The Portuguese gave the place some amazing buildings when they ruled and controlled, in fact Macau was the first European Settlement in the Far East. The Portuguese beat the Dutch and the British by a hairs breadth with their establishment of this well positioned and soon to be rich trading post. Hong Kong, Singapore and .Malacca followed many years later as the British, Dutch and other nations established a presence in Far East Asia but at the beginning Macau ruled the roost. The Dutch tried many times to get hold of the Islands as did the Spanish and the British once or twice. A prize jewel had Macau become and Portugal managed to retain control throughout, only really giving it up in 1999 when they handed it back to mainland China.

China now rules Macau under what has become known as a SAR. This stands for a Special Administration Region and basically comes under the Mainland Chinese Policy of "one rule, two systems". A status-quo in which Macau governs itself for the most part, and it makes and lives under its own laws, but it belongs to China however it is run or seen to be run.

Today it is a little paradise steeped in history and culture. Large imposing, century old structures now vie for space amongst the tattered remnants of shoddily built 20 century brick houses and classily built modern glass offices that reach to the sky. Massive and squat stone offices of a colonial era sit regally and steadfastly among haphazard and leaning towers of steel girders: gray stone snubs orange brick and the slate roofs still keep out the water were the tin cladding has long since failed.

New roads lead around the coast in smooth patterns, over long and impressive bridges they flow before swooping gracefully in arcs around flashing advertisements and over reclaimed land that oozes intent. Newly built high speed, two-lane, motorways pass futuristic glass structures and cloud hitting spirals, they zoom over decorated spanned bridges that are a feat to modern engineering, they whiz past glittering hotels that invite money to be spent and all before lowering themselves in stature to greet and pass over to times gone by.

Working inwards and upwards modern tarmac meets old cobbles as the flat ground turns into the steep climb. Little lanes hobble through culture that crowds-in upon itself. Houses of times past squash and bulge against each other and hang precariously over paths that defy the eyes to follow. Hanging baskets swing delicately from balconies that threaten to pull down the houses that they belong to, whilst open windows give glimpses to the crowded life beyond.

The modern steels and glass facades of hotels and office blocks, the colonial stone museums and Portuguese Officialdom of yesteryear that grace the flatlands around the coast are left behind when walking inland. The hilly centers of the Islands house the main population: looking at houses from many years ago the place strikes chords of a fishing village in Portugal when looking one way and China Town the next. These small houses built along old cobbled streets crowd in upon each other and bring life and activity all around.