VE HANDOJO went astray in The Venetian Macao and quickly repented from the sins he hadn’t even committed.

The buzz of The Venetian Macao is like a typhoon over Asia, even so far as a guy who could never win on Black Jack like me is dragged over to visit this casino resort. It’s enormous. The size is double its own father, The Venetian in Las Vegas. Over 1.2 million square feet of Macao was dedicated to this replica of Venice.

The idea of bringing a slice of Europe to this island of less than 600,000 population should be justified by the mere fact that Macao itself is Eurasian – at least, that was my initial thought when I heard about the place. Macao was indeed the first European colony in Asia, and the proof can be found literally on the streets, where the names of which are always spelt in Portuguese, Chinese, and English. The Venetian is not the first replica in Macao, since the San Francisco-style Fisherman’s Wharf, and Rome’s Colosseum are already there.

I entertained myself with the idea of having a man-made, East-meets-West experience. Though having no intention of losing even the minimum bet of HK$ 250 (US$ 33) on any table, I packed my hard-earnt Ted Baker, Calvin Klein and Armani into my Longchamp suitcase. Nobody wants to be caught wearing bloody G.A.P. in a James Bond movie set.

My flight was no 007 at all. Viva Macau transported me directly to Macau International Airport at no less than 6.30 AM. The Venetian sent a new S-Class Merc as a pick-up, giving a nice and refreshing first impression. However, that only lasted for five minutes, as The Venetian is located just a stone’s throw away from the cute little airport.

The hotel receptionist did not want to receive my early check-in, but suggested to wait until 10 AM. My very positive-thinking mind took it as a sign that their whole 3,000 suites were occupied on that Wednesday morning. I took a breakfast then in Cafe Deco, as one of their first guests. At around 7.30 AM, I was seated nicely by a waiter who quickly disappeared. His next reappearance was with a bill for the breakfast buffet I had not had a chance to browse. My request to pay the bill later after I finished the breakfast was deemed unusual. The waiter refused to leave without the payment. I decided not to argue the point further and noted the situation as unusual.

My breakfast buffet (HK$ 184 / US$ 24) at Cafe Deco including dimsum without flavour, chicken congee without chicken, lukewarm scrambled egg (please keep in mind that the buffet had just started), and a gigantic replica of the eagle head from the Chrysler Building. I was not the smartest student at school, but I’m pretty sure that the Chrysler Building is from New York – another country, another continent from Venice.

At 9 AM, I was the first guest to do the check-in. Thirty minutes later, I finally got two plastic cards as my room keys. In much smaller hotels, I would be ushered to my room. The Venetian Macao was attentive enough in helping me to find my suite among their 3,000 suites separated in North and South areas. They wished me good morning, and handed me a hotel map.

My lavish suite was 650 square feet, with twin Queen-sized beds dressed as Marie Antoinette. The living room and working desk were in the sub-level. A facsimile / printer / copier was available as a compact office system. My iBook enjoyed complimentary high speed wireless internet connection. The bathroom was huge (130 square feet), with twin vanities, and a make-up desk … but no towels in sight.

I pressed the “Priority Service” button on the telephone set, then asked for towels because they are what men need to take a bath. It took the hospitality team fourty five minutes to bring just two bathing towels. I dared not ask for smaller ones. I was afraid they would arrive by the time I checked-out.

My complaint over this problem to Ms. Catherine, Public Relations Assistant Manager, was answered with how enormous the complex was. I remembered when I was studying as a third grade student, and the headmistress of my school asked why I came late to school so often. “Mom has five children, and I’m the youngest, so she had to drive my brothers and sisters to their schools first. Jakarta is a big city, you know.” I was directly sent to detention.

In many other bedrooms, size does matter, but The Venetian Macao is a different case, where satisfaction will never reach the peak. The testosterone-filled resort is lacking of personal touch, thus killing the romance of quality service.

The Venetian Macao was proud to build the faux canals, and paint the ceilings with Jesus, Mary and Joseph, and dedicate 548,000 square feet for “high rollers”. Dressing to the nines, I strolled the faux Venice, hoping to feel luxurious with international boutiques in Grand Canal Shoppes. The luxury reaches its peak in jeans and casual wear collections. Giordano is haute couture.

The gamblers, I suspected, would show what Vegas is all about. I strolled the tables one-by-one in my Ted Baker, hoping to hob nob with Cavalli, Ralph Laurent, or Valentino. I met a lot of t-shirts with striking colors, endorsing D&G or YSL in glittering, eye-blinding, shiny beads. There is only one thing worse than all these fake brands clashed to abuse the word “fashion”: the attitude of the wearers. My editor should pay me triple to describe what it was like.

Escaping The Venetian is another struggle as Macao is in short supply of taxis. The Venetian is located in Taipa Island, far from the popular tourism spot such as the Ruins of St. Paul, Senado Square, or The Old Town. The nightlife was non-existant at The Venetian, the escape for gamblers. In short, I was trapped at Fake Paradise for a night.

The Venetian Macao boasts a multi-purpose arena, sizing at no less than one million square feet, capable to seat 15,000 people. The floor of this venue is removable, of which the surface can be replaced with anything from wood to ice. Tennis legends Pete Sampras and Roger Federer recently had a showdown here. An impressive facility in terms of, again, size. But as an accommodation, let’s wait until The Cotai Strip – the connection between Coloane and Taipa islands – is filled with Four Seasons, Shangri-La, St. Regis, and many other better names in the world of hospitality.

The check-out lane was snaking for hundreds of meters on a Friday morning. I noticed a lot of stressed out faces when I joined the queue. I asked one of the British tourists whether he was gambling and lost. He replied, “I just slept here.”

The traumatic nights at The Venetian were completely my own mistake. I’m sure there are people that would love the style, but I shouldn’t have put a bet on a hotel with a casino culture. I should’ve been faithful to the religion of good hospitality, and stay away from a place where kitsch is intentionally elevated to a new level.

The Venetian Macao-Resort-Hotel
Estrada de Baia de N. Senhora da Esperanca,
s/n, The Cotai Strip, Taipa
Macao SAR, P.R. China
www.venetianmacao.com

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