MACAU — As the ferry from Hong Kong pulled into the terminal slip, I peered through the rain-fogged windows at a huge, glowing red sign: "SANDS."

Farther along the waterfront, I could make out the looming hulk of a volcano — of the man-made variety, erupting daily on schedule.

In the taxi on the way to the hotel, I gawked at the towering skeletons of hotels and casinos that have turned Macau into a giant construction site. Not content with aspirations to be the Las Vegas of Asia, this Chinese territory — the only place in that huge country where casino gambling is legal — is betting that it can beat Vegas at its own game.

Last year, 100,000 Americans visited Macau, most of them taking side trips from Hong Kong. Macau is building luxury hotels with entertainment and world-class shopping in hopes of increasing those numbers. Macau may not be Vegas, but it does have history and a certain Chinese-Portuguese exotica.

I arrived in Macau three days after the September opening of the $1.2-billion Wynn Resort and Casino, the 22nd casino here. Stephen Wynn, chief executive and board chairman, was on hand for festivities that featured a shower of fireworks to the accompaniment of a Frank Sinatra recording of "Luck Be a Lady."

Wynn (Las Vegas-based Wynn Resorts) and longtime rival Sheldon Adelson (Las Vegas Sands Corp.) are at the fore of a casino-hotel boom here, although gambling — legal or illegal — has been going on for centuries in Macau, 40 miles from Hong Kong on the southeastern coast of China.

WHERE EAST, WEST MEET

Since 1999, when Macau was handed over to China after 442 years of Portuguese rule, it has been a special administrative region, existing much as Hong Kong does under a "one country, two systems" policy.

East and West meet in Macau, where Portuguese and Chinese are the official languages for the 500,000 residents. Neo-classic colonial Portuguese buildings with balustrades and shutters borrow their brilliant reds and yellows from Chinese temples. Blue and white street signs are in Portuguese and Chinese. Visitors will find Chinese noodle shops, Portuguese restaurants dishing up bread soup and places serving Macanese cuisine, which borrows from both, adding African and Indian influences.

Last year, the historic center of Macau was added to UNESCO's list of World Heritage sites. There are temples and churches; the most recognizable sight is the ruins of St. Paul's, sitting atop wide, grand steps. The church was built by the Jesuits in the 17th century but today is only a facade, having been largely destroyed by fire in 1835.

Macau's contrasts make it intriguing. About a dozen square miles, including Taipa and Coloane islands, it is a pastiche of Portuguese, Chinese and Macanese cultures. And, yes, Vegas-like lights and action.

Like many Westerners, I had an image of Macau — gleaned largely from old movies and such — as a crime-riddled den of iniquity. After four days here, I had quite a different image.

Macau billionaire entrepreneur Stanley Ho had a monopoly on casino licenses here until 2002, when the government, intent on boosting tourism, began offering concessions to outside investors. Two years later, the Sands Macau opened what it claims is the world's largest casino — 229,000 square feet on three levels, with 740 tables and 1,254 slot machines.

The Sands is not a hotel, but it does have 51 suites for high rollers. The casino is so successful that it paid for itself in its first year. Under construction is Sands' 39-story Venetian Macau, which, with 3,000 suites, will be the centerpiece of the glittery Cotai Strip development on reclaimed land that connects Taipa and Coloane. The Venetian will be an entertainment destination, with gondolas and sampans plying canals, a theater just for Cirque du Soleil and a huge shopping arcade, designed to help Macau shed its image as a day-trip destination.

Development of 197 acres on the Cotai Strip, projected for completion by 2009, will give Macau 20,000 additional hotel rooms. Many marquee names have signed on, including the Four Seasons, Hilton, Marriott, Sheraton, Fairmont, Shangri-La and Intercontinental. On mainland Macau, four hotels with casinos, including MGM Grand (opening next year) and Sofitel, are planned or under construction. And at Fisherman's Wharf, a 72-room Victorian-style boutique hotel called Rocks is to open next month.

Lawrence Ho, son of Stanley, is an investor in the Cotai Strip's City of Dreams, a multi-hotel-gambling-entertainment complex that will feature an underwater casino.

LAS VEGAS MEETS ASIA

Meanwhile, older hotels with their smoke-filled casinos are being refurbished to meet the competition and retain their Chinese clientele. Just across the street from Ho's garish 1970s Lisboa is construction of his Grand Lisboa, a 44-story, lotus leaf-shaped tower.

There are 12,000 hotel rooms in Macau; projections are for a total of 54,000 in a decade. With $5.3 billion last year in gambling revenues, Macau is poised to overtake Las Vegas, which in 2005 had total revenues, including from off-Strip sites, of $7.6 billion. In Macau, 95 percent of the casino action is at the tables, while in Nevada it's slots — 67 percent statewide, 52.2 percent on the Las Vegas Strip. Asians, who are serious gamblers, made up 97 percent of the area's 18 million visitors last year — more than half of them from the mainland — but Macau is intent on diversifying its visitor base.

A portent of the new Macau is the Wynn Macau, undeniably glamorous and elegant, in a Las Vegas-meets-Asia way. The lobby overlooks the gardens and pool. The shopping arcade is a who's who of fashion: Prada, Dior, Bulgari, Fendi, Chanel, Armani, Piaget, Tiffany, Rolex, Louis Vuitton.

A tranquil spa upstairs offers an extensive treatment menu, including Thai massage and a caviar facial. There are four "serious" restaurants: Chinese, Japanese, Italian and the eclectic, 24-hour Cafe Esplanada. Then there's Tryst, a disco that's open most days until 7 a.m.

At that hour, I was more likely to be sleeping on my pillow-top mattress in my palatial room, which I had booked on the Internet for $205. It was done in shades of copper and gold, with flat-screen TVs in the bedroom and the bathroom.

Wynn Macau's elegant, 100,000-square-foot casino, tucked discreetly in the back of the 24-story hotel, was packed opening week. I tried my hand at one of the 380 slot machines, which have symbols such as dragons, but never quite got the hang of it. I inserted a $100 Hong Kong bill (about $13) and up popped a staggering array of game choices, none of which I understood. So I just kept pushing buttons until my money was gone.

Farther into the depths of the red-carpeted casino, I came upon the Food Fair, where hungry gamblers can graze around the clock at Supreme Kitchen (Canton style), Flower Trump (Shanghai style), Yummy Asia (Southeast Asian) or Starbucks (bagels and such). Also within the casino is Red 8 Noodles & Congee, quick Chinese, open 24 hours.

There is as yet no showroom at Wynn Macau. (A wing under construction will have a theater, another casino and two restaurants.) But there's a good show each evening when a camera-toting crowd gathers out front to watch the dancing musical fountain, a fantasy of water and lights with balls of fire spilling into a man-made lake. I took in this spectacle one evening before checking out the row of pawnshops across the road, within walking distance of Wynn and other casinos.

JOGGING BACKWARD

On my first day in Macau, I got acquainted with my guide, Joao Sales of the government tourist office over the Sunday lunch buffet at the Military Club. It's a delightful 19th-century building in the city center, where Portuguese officers once dined. The meal was Portuguese, with lots of sausage and pork; diners included Portuguese families. (Although Portuguese make up only 3 percent of Macau's population, which is 95 percent Chinese, their influence is strong.)

To walk off the calories, we headed for Camoes Garden, named for Portuguese poet Lu’s de Camoes. I was puzzled to see older women jogging backward. A local custom, I learned, supposedly easier on the joints. The park was also once a popular place for men to gather with their caged birds, but since the bird flu scare many have freed their pets.

With Sales, a Macau native who enjoys showing off some of his home's more traditional charms, I walked among the crumbling markers at the Old Protestant Cemetery, burial place of Robert Morrison, an Englishman who was the first Protestant missionary in China and did the first English-to-Chinese translation of the Bible.

We strolled the antiques streets at the foot of Monte Fort, where open-front shops sell the real goods, plus cheap knockoffs and souvenirs.

Antique Chinese furniture is considered a good buy here. The Chinese want to furnish their homes European-style, said Anita Lauder, who sells traditional provincial furniture from her shop, Asian Artefacts in Coloane, and they "think no one wants this old rubbish."

History and kitsch co-exist in Macau. Fisherman's Wharf, a new themed tourist attraction that didn't yet seem to be attracting many tourists, has that fake volcano, Vulcania, as well as a 2,000-seat replica of a Roman amphitheater, a soon-to-open Babylon-themed casino and the kiddie-oriented Aladdin's Fort, guarded by a pair of giant asps.

Kitsch reaches new heights at downtown's Grand Emperor Hotel, where Jackie Chan has a piece of the action. Two "Buckingham Palace" guards, with red jackets and bearskin hats, stand at attention at the door.

Macau is marred by ugly high-rise apartment buildings, many for low-income residents. But behind them are intriguing narrow, crowded streets with overhanging balconies.

One morning, as a typhoon was sweeping in from the Philippines, Sales and I joined early shoppers who had come to the Red Market to buy the best giant mussels, eels and other live delicacies. In a food stall adjacent to the 1930s red brick building, a roast pig, stuffed and festively wrapped in pink paper, awaited pickup for a special feast.

I enjoyed strolling the cobblestone pedestrian streets around pretty Senado Square with its pastel buildings and 17th-century St. Dominic's Church. I watched the faithful lighting incense sticks at the 16th-century A-Ma Temple (Macau residents are primarily Buddhist) and walked the streets of old Taipa.

TOURIST CHALLENGE

I lingered at the wonderful Museum of Macau, which opened in 1998 on the foundations of 17th-century Monte Fort. Exhibits, including re-creations of old Chinese shops and facades of houses in different styles, depict Eastern and Western cultures over the centuries.

I was transfixed by a film of a cricket fight. Who knew that champion crickets had training diets (rice and fish) and were buried in tiny caskets? Once, thousands of dollars were waged on cricket fights, but today they are illegal.

Truth to tell, Macau used to be a bit of a backwater. Locals had to travel to Hong Kong just to go to McDonald's. Now, the Golden Arches are so familiar here that when Sai Van, a cable-stayed bridge to Taipa, opened in 2004 with M-shaped towers (as in Macau), it was dubbed the McDonald's bridge.

Now, Macau is basking in its prosperity. Young people, once eager to leave, are taking well-paying casino jobs.

One concern is where to recruit the help needed for all the new hotels and casinos. There are restrictions on immigrant labor from the mainland.

Mainland China, with its 1.3 billion people, its prosperity and its penchant for gambling, is just steps from Macau. Each day, gamblers, shoppers and workers stream across from Zhuhai, and people cross to the mainland from Macau for less expensive shopping. (U.S. citizens need a visa.) Visitors arriving in Macau find a fleet of private buses to take them to the casinos.

Macau was spared the devastation of World War II, when it was a neutral haven for refugees. Since the 1950s, when numerous old buildings were bulldozed to erect housing, it has enacted laws to save much of its architectural heritage.

Not everyone is thrilled to see Macau fashioning itself into Las Vegas East. Over coffee in his Coloane bakery, local luminary Andrew Stow — a British transplant known hereabouts as Lord Stow and famous for his Portuguese egg tarts — called it overkill.

"Yes, it may create jobs for the young, but many gamble away their pay," he said.

Regarding the transformation of little Macau as it gears up to host 30 million tourists five years from now: "It's challenging," said Macau native Cecilia Tse Heng Sai, head of promotion and marketing for the Macau Government Tourist Office. "We must be careful not to destroy the harmonious, peaceful environment we have."