Gambling on China
The Sands Macau, with its sweeping 88-foot atrium and walls of glass allowing a generous flood of natural light, should be an attractive alternative. Yet it's only an appetizer, not a true Vegas resort. Its 51 suites, each between 1,000 and 8,000 square feet and overlooking the South China Sea, are primarily for high rollers. Weidner says the aim is to create a gambling space with a sample of the Las Vegas pizazz the Chinese admire from countless Hollywood films.
There are uniquely Asian touches. Slot players win if they line up lucky eights, not sevens, as per local superstitions. Instead of craps or poker tables, which hold little appeal here, baccarat dominates, and a smattering of pai-gow and roulette-style games fill out the room. The tea terrace is as important here as any bar, and the tea master can dispense traditional medicinal herbs. Plus, everything from the position of the long building with a facade of gold reflective glass and black granite to the look of the 65-foot, 6,000-bulb chandelier in the main foyer was vetted by a feng shui master, Weidner says.
But if the Vegas Strip, itself a mishmash of homages to other cities, is about to be transplanted to the Far East, what becomes of the original Sin City? Will all those Asian "whales," or high rollers, still swim the Pacific and beach themselves in the desert? Falcone and other industry watchers note that the expansion of gambling across the United States has merely minted new recruits hoping one day to make the pilgrimage to the neon mecca. That's exactly what Zhu Feng hopes. "My aim," he says as he slides a handful of Hong Kong dollars into a Casino Lisboa slot machine, "is to win enough money to go see Las Vegas." The real one, that is.
advertisement
