It was the strangest experience inside the Grand Lisboa on Saturday afternoon, when we went for lunch. For a second we thought someone in Beijing had reimposed visa restrictions, as there were hardly any punters on the casino’s main floor. But then we realized that it was the day after the end of the official Golden Week – even though, yes, it was a weekend. That’s simply how it works in China: the tap switches on, and it switches off, according to public holidays.

According to official statistics, mainlanders accounted for 480,000 of the 680,000 visitors who came in over October 1-7, a rise of 13% over the same period last year. But the biggest percentage jump was among Hongkongers, who were up 22% at 140,000. That has more to do with deflated numbers from last year, when the Golden Week did not begin on a weekend, than it does a boom in the city’s propensity to gamble, but it was surprisingly strong nevertheless.

We weren’t too concerned with the Hongkongers’ numbers, in any case, because we knew there was more than enough ferry service capacity to handle them. Our bigger concern, we must say, was that the Gongbei immigration checkpoint was bursting at the seams. On the first three days of the holidays, there were 1.8 million movements through there, including locals and Macau citizens resident or working in Zhuhai. The facility is built to handle only 300,000 visitors a day, and it showed when we paid a visit: long lines running back for more than 200 meters outside the immigration hall on the Zhuhai side. Given that arrivals from the mainland average around 800,000 A MONTH outside of Golden Week, readers can imagine for themselves what the place looked like trying to squeeze nearly 500,000 through in one week.

Now, we understand that mainland Chinese, except those from Shanghai, are born patient. They have lived all their lives with long queues, and do not expect much from officialdom when it comes to convenience and service. But every Golden Week it gets worse for them to squeeze through Gongbei, and we have to wonder at what point it simply becomes not worth the hassle of standing in line for nearly two hours to get in, when nearly half of all day-trippers say they have less than five hours to spare for their journey in Macau.

The Lotus Bridge connecting Hengqin to Cotai, meanwhile, looks like it was designed for use by a select group of VIPs only, judging by how little traffic it gets. And the river-barge crossing at Wanzai appears to be for dedicated Ponte 16 customers alone.

The reason for this bottleneck at Gongbei is not difficult to find. It is the terminus for every bus bringing passengers from Macau’s hinterland of Guangdong. Passengers get out underground and walk up two flights of crappy escalators, push past the throngs of DVD and Gucci touts inside the rabbit-warren shopping center, and line up in the plaza outside.

One might suppose the easiest way to fix this would be to get the bus companies to sell journeys that terminate at the Hengqin side of the Lotus Bridge, so that passengers can more easily access the property that three-quarters of them are going to visit at some stage on their trip anyway: the Venetian. Ah, so simple, and yet impossible to do, we understand. Too many vested interests in those bus companies. Too many vested interests in that underground mall, not to mention the duty-free shops inside the border zone at Gongbei. So the only solution, it seems, is to keep expanding Gongbei. At least until Hengqin itself has its own vested interests who need traffic once the resorts and hotels and convention centers and malls have been built out.

In the meantime, smart visitors will look for an easier way in at peak periods. But we wouldn’t be surprised if Golden Week visitor numbers disappoint this time next year. Stay tuned.

Used with permission and copyright to IntelMacau