Macao, China -

ecurely harnessed and staring 233 metres down from the Macau Tower, one thing becomes obvious. Macau's landscape isn't just changing; it's growing. Land reclamation projects have almost doubled the territory, from 14 to 27 square kilometres, in just over 20 years.

With that thought logged, I pick my way along the 1.4 metre-wide platform of AJ Hackett's Skywalk X which circles the Tower rim, making mental notes about the terrain below. With each observation, I gulp deeply in the hope of getting safely down to write it up.

My concerns were unfounded. The Skywalk X, though clearly unsuitable for vertigo sufferers, is very safe. A 20-month old toddler and an 87-year old lady braved it before me, and a South African skater holds a daily rollerblading show around the circular rim.

Macau Tower is a soaring modern landmark dominating a reclaimed promontory of land overlooking the Pearl River Delta. Its glass-floor viewing platform offers an unrivalled perspective of the physical weaving together of Macau city, a peninsula of the Chinese mainland, and the islands of Coloane and Taipa.

As feats of engineering go, this one is pretty impressive. Two undulating, dragon-shaped bridges stretch out across the harbour from Macau city (a third is being finished in time for next year's fifth anniversary of the handover from Portugal to China) and the man-made causeway of Cotai melds the two islands. This is the new map of Macau. And it's evolving fast.

Long viewed as the sleepy-by-day, gambler-by-night cousin of nearby Hong Kong – 60 kilometres or a one-hour ferry ride away – Macau is emerging as a tourism, rather than day-excursion, destination in its own right. As part of the plan, it has cleaned up its casinos, and built some shiny new ones for good measure, renovated and revamped its Portuguese colonial architecture and added some striking new attractions.

The ambition isn't yet sated. In 2005, Macau will host the East Asian Games, and several modern new stadiums are taking shape. Fisherman's Wharf, a colossal new entertainment complex bringing shopping malls, casinos, hotels, theme parks, a marina and a man-made mini volcano, is also due to open early next year. Construction is also underway for three new mega-casinos. To the uninitiated, it appears Macau is intent on turning itself into the Las Vegas of the East.

Actually it is, but that's only part of the grand plan.

Ever since the government removed local tycoon Stanley Ho's 40-year monopoly of the gambling trade and opened it up to competition, Macau has been preparing for a wholesale revamp, both of its skyline and profile. Gone is that tired Macau cliche as a place to enjoy a wine-soaked lunch, a quick stroll through the old town and a long snooze before an evening punt on the baccarat tables.

That's not to say that spicy Macanese cuisine and affordable Portuguese wine do not make one of the most perfect lunch combos known to man. They do. There's just a whole lot more to see and do here than eat, drink and dream of winning big.

One of Macau's staple tourism sights is the neon-lit, bird cage-shaped Lisboa Hotel. For decades, it stood as Macau's premier, but dated, gambling venue. Then, in May this year, Las Vegas gaming operator, Sands, opened a seven-floor, state-of-the-art gamblers' paradise. The opening night made global headlines for the unexpected volume of pumped-up punters pushing and jostling to join the party. The atrium gaming hall, which is larger than two football pitches, has been packed ever since.

Sands' slate grey, office-block exterior is a world away from the crumbling largesse of the Lisboa. Unlike the old casinos, which whispered encouraging words of vice to approaching customers, Sands stands enigmatic and aloof. Yet, even as a non-gambler, I was itching to go within and see what was going on.

Once inside, it is clear that rigorous security, professional staff and impeccable cleanliness have upped the stakes for Macau's gambling trade. And more multi-million dollar casino investments are on the table. One of Nevada's glitziest lights, the Venetian, opens in 2006 along with new casinos operated by other big-name Las Vegas players. Clearly, Macau needs all the extra space it has salvaged from the sea.

Such salvage represents a new era of influence by the sea over Macau's destiny – which even bestowed its name. Legend decrees that female deity, A-Ma, was delivered to the peninsula by seafarers who took pity on her poverty-stricken appearance. A-Ma Gao (place of A-Ma) later became Macau.

Fishermen from Fujian Province were the first settlers before the Portuguese showed up in the early 16th century looking for a trading post to handle their colonial shipments of foodstuffs from Africa, Asia and South America. The Roman Catholic church subsequently shipped in missionaries who built the churches and fortresses that gave the city its European appearance that endures today.

Strolling the sloping cobbled streets of downtown Macau – far from the madding casinos and causeways – it's easy to envisage yourself pottering around the seafaring cities of Oporto or Lisbon. Several of the mustard yellow and brown Portuguese town houses have been converted from private dwellings to government buildings to facilitate easier preservation and street signs are inked onto white tiled azulejos – though the Portuguese and Cantonese translations are often entirely unrelated. Elegant mansions sit behind leafy, walled gardens, their privacy enhanced by heavy wooden shutters across the windows. Balconied town houses, similar to those found in the port cities of Portugal and Brazil, flank the narrow streets. Even the currency in your pocket, the pataca, is a closer relative of the escudo than the yuan.

Yet there are several reminders that, though the architecture is southern European, the rhythm of life is distinctly Cantonese. Most cafes serve noodles rather than bacalhao and the labrynthine markets of tea sellers, dried fish stalls and firecracker vendors are clearly more Canton than Coimbra. Though its Portuguese name, Rua da Felicidade, translates easily into English, Happiness Street is distinctly Chinese in design, and is the place where sailors traditionally sought evening entertainment.

The jewel of Macau's downtown crown is Senate Square, a gloriously photogenic juxtaposition of well-restored, pastel-shaded Portuguese civic buildings, and the obligatory church. A short walk away is the ruined facade of St Paul's church. Built in 1602, it was once said to be the finest church east of Rome but was destroyed by fire in 1835. UNESCO is currently considering its application, along with 11 nearby historic buildings, for World Heritage Status.

The same fire also destroyed the adjacent Jesuit College built into Monte Fort. The fort's foundations now house the absorbing Museum of Macau, whose exhibits and clear descriptions tell the tale of how European and Chinese religions, pastimes, cultures and industries have coexisted in Macau since the 16th century.

Having begun on a high, I also ended on one; staring over the rooftops to mainland China from the Guia lighthouse. The oldest on the Chinese coast, it is still functional and is also used to hang the ominous black plastic symbols that warn Macau's population of an impending typhoon.

The winds of change are certainly sweeping through Macau, though whether they are destructive or complementary is still to be determined. Modernity and history remain, for the most part, on pretty neighbourly terms.