Macau and the best shrimp bisque in the world

(Note: The shrimp bisque part was edited by Angel, she gets 3/4 credit for it.)

Macau, Special Administrative Region of China. A small Las Vegas, where gaming represents 50% of the region's GDP.

Tourist low season and good travel agency deals let us stay at the Grand Lisboa hotel for one night. It's one of the newest and certainly one of the craziest buildings around the place.

I'm not sure if it can compete with those of Dubai, but the hotel's foyer was still luxurious.

The view was great. I wish the windows had been a bit cleaner, and that it had been not as cloudy, but you can't have everything.

*Taken from the Internet*

We didn't feel like going out for dinner. Instead, we ordered room service. Luckily for us, the prices were more or less the same as in restaurants. We called front desk to place our order and half an hour later, the waiter brought us a "Macanese" stew, some dumplings and a shrimp bisque.

Or perhaps I should say, THE shrimp bisque.

God, what a bisque. Served steaming hot inside a crusty roll of bread, it was a sensory explosion that almost made us cry. Angel was the first to try it. She dipped her spoon in, took a sip, closed her eyes... and just sat there. Unspeaking, unmoving. I never asked what magical places she visited while riding out that wave of pleasure, but when she finally opened her eyes, she looked at me and - in a dead serious tone - ordered, "Try it."

Now, in my short years of life, I have tasted dozens of shrimp bisques. I have sampled both flavoursome and tasteless ones; I have tried them hot as well as cold; I have done so in both dry and humid weather; I have seen varieties with shrimps and without shrimps, with vegetables and without vegetables, with accompaniments and alone. But as my lips closed and the elixir-like liquid started its ritual parade over my tongue, the world fell silent. Everything faded away.

Gradually, in the darkness, I heard a murmur coming from afar, gaining ground and getting closer and closer with ever-increasing speed. A troop of shrimps - tens of millions of them - surrounded me, lifting me from the table and hurling me across the seven seas: the flavourful stillness of the Mediterranean, the lively fauna of the Red Sea, the exotic waters of Africa and India, the spectacular coral reefs of the Persian Gulf and the wild, stormy temper of the Sea of China. I felt each of those countless shrimps smiling at me, singing and dancing, as they guided me back to where I was seated, right next to Angel in a hotel room in Macau.

Did I mention the hotel was magnificent? It had several sculptures in jade, wood, ceramic and stone, out of which two caught my attention. I'm not sure whether it was alabaster or some sort of clay; there was a protective glass between me and the oeuvre, but the level of detail was ridiculous. The whole thing must have had one per one and a half metres in total, and it was all finely carved with detailed elements of the Chinese culture.

And this other one left me breathless too. A wooden log a couple metres long, with carved images of the famous Chinese literature classic "Journey to the West".

Apparently the piece of wood had pretty much all the characters of the story. Maybe next time I go I'll be able to tell who is who.

I wonder if the artist did this during his free time. I don't even want to imagine the amount of hours this must have taken. Or the price paid for it.

The lobby of the hotel.

Macau used to be a Portuguese colony, but I didn't get to hear anybody speaking Portuguese. Maybe next time.

Cheung Chau

Cheung Chau, or 'Long Island' (iced tea, hee). A small strip of land 40 minutes away from Hong Kong by ferry boat. Around 23,000 inhabitants dwell within the 2.45 square kilometres the island has to offer, living of fishing and tourism.

Before starting our hike, we stopped to play for a while with a typical Chinese product: latex bubbles (or some other weird chemical substance). At some point in my childhood I'd had it in my hands, but it had been 15 years since the last time.

Not sure how long we were at it. Both the islanders and tourists gave us curious stares whenever they walked passed.

The cool thing about these bubbles is that they don't disappear once they burst. They just lose air, the same way a balloon does when you pierce it.

I like to think these chickens were hanging in the back yard of a restaurant, waiting to be served. It would be a bit disturbing to think they were purely ornamental.

We rented a tricicle and biked around the island. We secured it to a pole and started walking uphill until we got to a lookout spot. You could even make out Hong Kong island in the horizon.

Whereas it was the middle of winter, twenty-five degrees Celcius and ninety-five percent of humidity made quite a hot experience out of this hike. I don't even want to imagine how it must be to go there in summer.

Small boat playing pirate. :P

This is pretty much the reason I'll go back to Cheung Chau. Not sure I'll be able to find the right words to describe how good these clams were, but I was close to depressed when they ran out. Come back, oh joyful flavour!

Manthis shrimps being... all manthis-y.

We got to the island around noon and stayed until five. It was a short trip, but a complete success. For what I saw, the pier in Hong Kong island is full of ferry boats going to a bunch full of little islands for very low prices. I'll see if I can visit them all at some point.

Trip to The Peak

Victoria Peak is the highest point in Hong Kong island. With its more than 500 metres, it provides with spectacular day and night vistas of the whole city. At least that's what tourist guides say.

For better or worse, we went on a foggy day. The city below us became nothing but a fairy tale among so many clouds, so we had to settle for wonderful views of the buildings around us instead. Temperature was on our side though; a pleasant 16 degrees Celcius.

We decided to go for a walk. Angel used to stroll along these streets some years ago, so she was the appointed guide. As (almost) always, my duties were those of photographer and sherpa (a somewhat more dignifying of a title than the one of 'cargo mule').

The Peak can be reached by car as well as by foot; the trail we walked lead all the way downtown. Since we wanted to have dinner at The Peak, we didn't go too far. We took photos more than anything else.

After taking a few myself, Angel took hold of the camera. Dim lights and circulating mist provided with lots of nice photo opportunities. We got to try my new low-light lens with great results.

Angel was fascinated with this new toy. Both the camera and the lens were only a few weeks old. Unfortunately for her, they were too heavy and she had to let go after a while of taking photos.

Advertisement for Valentine's Day.

Once we got back, we headed to the restaurant: Pearl on The Peak. The situation went more or less like this:

Waitress: Good evening, may I help you?

Angel: A table for two, please.

W: Certainly. Under who's name is the reservation?

A: Reservation? Oh, we don't have one.

W: I'm very sorry, we cannot get you a table if you don't have a reservation.

B: Don't worry, we'll take care of things.

(A and B leave the place. B calls from his mobile and makes a reservation. Half an hour later A and B are already sitting down in The Pearl, having their order taken.)

Itadakimasu! After two awesome-flavoured lobster and mushroom bisques, the mains arrived. A lobster linguini that was beautifully presented (and the pasta was excellent)...

... and a mouthgasmic mushroom and truffles risotto. "That's what risotto's supposed to taste like", Angel exclaimed, half startled. The dish was so good it was almost poetic.

There were also candles. But we weren't that hungry.

A bit tired after the filling intensity of the mains, we debated over whether we should have dessert or not. The promises of a fire display while the dessert was being made in front of us convinced us to order the crêpes Suzette. Good call, Angel. The costumers of the table next to us were mesmerised by the show. It helped the fact that they were quite drunk.

Once we were done feasting on our divine French fountain of happyness, we went back home and prepared for the trip next day: Cheung Chau island.

Beat that, mescaline.

My electric boiler is awesomely psychodelic. When you turn it on, the light goes red. Drinking tea at night is lots of fun.

Scheming

Whew! Long time since the last entry. In between, my dear friend Angel came to Hong Kong, took me to lots of places, made me eat (awesomely) good food, and returned to Australia. I do have a truckload of photos to upload and anecdotes to tell, but I realised that I don't want this blog to be enslaved to the other (the one in Spanish). So I've decided to make parallel entries occasionally, but most of the time write different stuff on each one. Yay for autonomous governance!