What happens in Macau stays in Macau

Why does it seem like every time someone throws a big outdoor event in the summer here that’s there’s a typhoon or black rain? Case in point- last weekend, the Hed Kandi pool party in Macau was blasted out by a typhoon 8.

All week long, the weather was forecast to be hot and sunny. It was hazy but dry for the earlier part of the day. The ferry ride over was fine and we started getting happy on beers. When we got there, the pool party had just kicked off. There were people in the pool floating in big inflatable Havaiana sandals and the cabanas were stocked with champagne, belvedere and wine. I never knew there were so many muscle heads in Hong Kong. It almost seemed like all the guys had gone to the gym and pumped up their muscles beforehand.

Then about an hour into it, the weather turned. People were just arriving and the rain began to beat down heavily. The wind started knocking everything over and the palm trees were thrashing around like a metalhead playing air-guitar. Everyone ran for cover under the cabanas and finally, when the weather worsened, they closed the pool and people were made to disperse. Luckily, some people had some foresight and rented rooms in the hotel. The back-up plan was that the party would take place in the ballroom but not until 8. So basically there were a few hours to kill between being rained out at the pool and the night party.

If you haven’t been to the Venetian, what you probably don’t know is the place is massive. It’s a behemoth, gargantuan sprawling complex that has a North and South wing. In addition, things are not well marked and in order to get from point A to point B one must navigate through a maze of hallways and lifts.

Luckily I was with some friends that had a room and I went into that one. I could tell you what went on in there, but I’m going to have to kill you. What happens in Macau, stays in Macau. Let’s just say it was the typical kind of Vegas antics. However, no one ever suggested going to gamble and to be honest, we were having such a laugh that no one was interested in hitting the tables anyway. We kept calling people in different rooms to tell them to come over but people kept getting lost. ‘Are you in the North or South wing?’ The smses would say. I’d reply room 101-835-Floor 56- Left Side, South Wing, Pluto. No, Uranus. Seriously, you needed a GPS in there.

Anyway…. We were pretty buzzed by the time we walked into the ballroom at 830. There were makeshift cabanas flanking the walls and there were stages where people could get up and dance. The DJ booth was at the front and we just started dancing as soon as we entered. Unfortunately something about the ballroom made it feel like the high school prom. I peaked rather early and I feared I would be stuck at the prom all night- so I took the last ferry out with some girlfriends.

Even the ferry ride over was a ‘meet-market’ but I guess that’s what people do when they are drunk. They try to pull- even on the last minute. The ferry docked at 12am and we were starving after only having eaten a late breakfast. There was no choice but to cab it over to Tsui Wah and brave the rain in our flip flops and party frocks. The barbeque pork soup with the thin noodles (Char Siu Mien) and crispy butter bread with condensed milk was just what the doctor ordered! I could have had that as a last meal before the electric chair and died a happy woman (at least at that point it seemed that good). It was a perfect end to a very soggy evening.
 

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