In the 10 years since the Portuguese colony of Macau reverted to Chinese rule, this sleepy outpost in the shadow of Hong Kong has been transformed. While cementing its footing as the “Asian Las Vegas,” Macau has also expanded its horizons far beyond the realm of flashy casinos, becoming the region’s chief draw for those seeking both recreation and a connection with China’s past. It was Macau that served as the West’s first trading colony with Cathay.

Macau’s recent transformation into more than a Monte Carlo of the East struck me full force the moment I arrived via a 45-minute hydrofoil ride from Hong Kong International Airport (HKG). I hadn’t been on these densely populated shores in a quarter of a century, and in my absence the shoreline itself had moved. A broad swath of land, known as the Nape, has been reclaimed from the sea near the ferry docks, and upon this new Atlantis there has rapidly sprouted a dazzling host of fresh attractions, including an entertainment strip dubbed Fisherman’s Wharf, with replicas ranging from the Roman Colosseum to Bourbon Street, and a regularly erupting faux volcano to boot.

Back in the slower-paced, pre-Chinese changeover days, Macau had been a warren of twisting lanes punctuated by a handful of aging fan-tan palaces and gambling ships at anchor. Visitors frequented sleazy casinos and paid homage at colonial monuments. Since the 16th century, Macau had served as the gateway to China for the earliest bands of Western merchants, missionaries and armadas; but up until a few years ago it has managed to retain only a few tattered touches of its Portuguese past. Now the reclamation of the past is keeping pace with a less picturesque wave of commercial redevelopment.

My base was the Mandarin Oriental’s elegant Grand Lapa Resort, a major downtown Macau hotel without a casino. Located just a few blocks from the ferry terminal and Fisherman’s Wharf, it was ideally situated for my exploration of Macau’s outdoor adventures and colonial treasures. Not only is the Grand Lapa a relaxing retreat in the maelstrom of newly installed gambling halls; it offers an unfettered view of Macau’s major sports attraction, the Formula 3 Grand Prix, which roars through the city streets every November.

Three bridges now connect the downtown peninsula of Macau proper to its two southern islands, Taipa and Coloane — until recently Macau’s poor country cousins but now its princes of outdoor adventure. Taipa and Coloane have been forcibly linked by yet another massive reclamation project known as Cotai — Macau’s most ambitious attempt yet to gild its gambling coffers — but hopping a free shuttle on the downtown peninsula, I quickly bypassed Cotai’s measureless casinos. Coloane Island is the very opposite of Cotai — spacious and mountainous. The Westin Resort on Coloane, a world unto itself, provides access to a championship golf course, where I enjoyed a leisurely seaside round, far removed from the baccarat and blackjack tables. Come the afternoon, I rambled along a nearby hiking trail overlooking the black sand beaches of the South China Sea. And that evening I was delighted to discover that my favorite out-of-the-way restaurant, the fabled Fernando’s, had fared well, too. I immersed myself in a full dinner at this red brick institution on Hac Sa Beach, where acres of fresh clams and crabs are perfectly complemented by Portuguese wines.

Western-style recreation now permeates a surprising portion of Macau, even in certain downtown locations. The next morning when I ascended the new Macau Tower, one of the world’s tallest buildings, I came upon a platform for bungee jumpers at the 764-foot level certified by Guinness as the “world’s highest commercial decelerator descent.” Having skirted the casinos, I decided not to push my luck by jumping from a skyscraper. Instead, I struck out on foot along the Avenida de Almeida Ribeiro, an enchanting banyan-shaded boulevard, bound for the Inner Harbour and the heart of old Macau. Some 25 historic monuments have been preserved here on a UNESCO World Heritage site that was established in 2004, and these legacies of the former Portuguese colony are shining as never before. Topping my must-see list were the East India Company Cemetery (where many a foreign trader and scalawag ended up); a section of the original city walls dating from 1569; and a host of churches, temples, pastel-tinted Neo-classical buildings and shop houses located off of Senate Square (Largo do Senado), where the Portuguese set up shop nearly four centuries ago.

Macau’s architectural treasures are all within an easy stroll of Senate Square, unless one makes a detour through the pinched and disorderly alleyways that still remain. In the past I escaped from this colorful maze effortlessly, although once, when showing newcomers around, I did end up stranded within the labyrinth. Now I kept myself on course by asking locals to point the way to São Paulo — the ruins of St. Paul’s Church, old Macau’s centerpiece.

All that stands of this singular monument to Christianity in the East is a massive engraved stone façade, a formidable 17th-century “sermon in stone;” but on the far side of St. Paul’s façade is one of my favorite treasure troves in all of China, the Museum of Sacred Art, and St. Paul’s open crypts, laden with paintings, grave markers and icons of early Catholic martyrs. Macau has endeavored to preserve St. Paul and a score of other rare landmarks. The remains of the West’s first prolonged settlement in the East shine as never before.

From the ruins of St. Paul’s I ascended an open-air escalator to Mount Fortress (Fortaleza do Monte), a stronghold built by 17th-century Jesuit missionaries to fend off pirates. Today it is successfully fending off fresh legions of roulette tycoons, and it affords a view as fine as that from the modern Macau Tower. Inside the fort, I toured the museum, an enthralling encapsulation of Macanese history. When the sun finally set on my wanderings, I retired to the terrace restaurant in the Pousada de São Tiago boutique hotel, which is happily situated within the ancient ramparts. I felt the strong pull of the past the longer I lingered in the heart of the first Western settlement in the Far East. Although the table talk turned to a proposed ocean bridge that could put Macau within all-too-easy driving distance of Hong Kong, it was clear that this tiny city-state is on a steady course to shelter its inner city monuments and outdoor spaces from the boom that is elsewhere paving over the original splendors of the Far East.