Day 53 (Sunday)

Managed another lovely lie in but did feel a little bit guilty about wasting a morning, ah well, c’est la vie.

We caught the train to Monaco and were astounded by the size of the station and even more shocked that there were no exit signs in either French or English so we stupidly followed the crowd and went up in a lift and found ourselves about 100m above the platforms. We knew we had to go down to sea level so we just crossed the road and headed towards the sea. It seemed to take forever and when we found ourselves in an underground tunnel for cars, we assumed we’d gone wrong somewhere but we soon found the old town. Our first stop was to walk up to the Royal Palace which involved a rather steep hike and it was very hot but we are both getting a bit fitter so it wasn’t too painful. When I lived in Villefranche before I used to go to Monaco to people watch and there were all sorts of rules about how to behave in this place. For example you are not allowed to wear swimwear in town (I quite agree.) Men are not allowed to be bare chested (I quite agree.) If you weren’t well dressed you could be refused admittance (going a bit far there.) I had an Irish biker friend and he had long hair and wore jeans, cut-offs and leathers and he tried to get into Monaco many times and was never admitted. I was chuffed to see that some of these rules still apply when we saw this sign at the foot of the hill.

 The palace square is as pretty as I remembered

 

This white tower looks brand new – I wonder if it’s an add-on. We were also lucky enough to see the changing of the guards, which isn’t as elaborate as London’s but nice and traditional nevertheless.

At first glance I thought these piles of balls were boules but they are in fact cannon balls.

We had a nice walk around the old town and were pleasantly surprised that the prices weren’t too silly up here so we stopped and shared a chicken escalope Panini and a pint each which came to €18 – we suddenly realised that we have begun to accept that it’s bloody expensive here when we thought that €18 was acceptable for one sandwich and

two beers, which at today’s exchange rate is £16.12p!

We even went inside a church for a few quiet moments and to cool down a little bit.

The old town        

But despite all the money and glamour the shopping is pretty tacky.

The views from the top are pretty spectacular and we spotted the building that is home to the most expensive apartment in the world – the one I talked about earlier with the outside waterslide and here it is, the blue building, you can just see the slide at the top on the right, I think that would be quite hair raising.

The views towards the sea are stunning.

 

But looking inland there’s a really ugly bit, which reminds me a bit of the flavellas in Brazil.

This one apartment in particular was very impressive due to the size of the terrace.

We walked back down the hill and past the lido on some of the route of the Grand Prix. When I worked on a yacht called ‘Harlequin Boy’, which was owned by a right East End geezer named Gerald, who’d made all his money from ‘shovelling shit into an ‘ole!’ (landfills) his words not mine, we anchored in the bay of Monaco for the Grand Prix and the noise was just awful. The male crew loved it but as soon as our duties were done, my fellow stupidess Kim and myself used to hide in our cabins with pillows over our heads. Because we were in the middle of the bay you could hear everything and it was hateful. At this time if you caught a train from anywhere and got off at Monaco station during the Grand Prix you had to pay the equivalent of £15 just to leave the station and stand on the street. I have no idea if they still do this today.   

As we were approaching the famous Hotel de Paris and the casino I remembered the spot where I’d stood aged 17 promising myself that I would live here one day, and here I am. Near this spot is a lovely little church, which is seriously dwarfed by all the high-rise buildings.  

I expect Monaco used to be as quaint and beautiful as Villefranche but as it stands now it doesn’t appeal to me at all and it never has. It’s great to visit for a few hours from time to time but I would hate to live there. I’d be happy to work there as it’s a tax-free haven but that’s about it.

As we approached the casino square all the posh shops started appearing, Chanel, Luis Vuitton, Cartier – they are all there. Even the back of the Hotel de Paris is impressive.

The cheapest room in this hotel starts at £765 per night and the car parking area looks like a car showroom in Mayfair.

 

I found this on a website

The Hôtel de Paris Monte-Carlo sits in the heart of Monaco, with the best position on the F1 Grand Prix racetrack and a roster of such famous past guests as Cary Grant, Michael Jackson and Nelson Mandela. Prince Rainier and Princess Grace of Monaco celebrated their twentieth wedding anniversary in its private wine cellar, one of the largest and oldest in the world.

 The last time we were in Monaco was in December 2006 with my mother and some Kiwi friends and we sat in a café in the Place du Casino and had one drink and just people watched for an hour or so. Years ago I saw Blake Carrington from the American soap ‘Dynasty’ and he looked so plastic and orange and this was before orange was in fashion! He had twin plastic looking blonde women with him, one on each arm. Back to today we took a seat after having our bags searched and picked up the menu; there were no seats in the shade and it was sweltering. A pint of lager was €16. We were quite tempted to have one because we were thirsty but this price could not be justified; we can justify these kind of prices in Eze because of the spectacular view but here we were just looking at some pretty buildings, some outrageously expensive cars and some very rich pricks so we decided not to bother and left.

We headed back towards the station and when we found it we realised that on arrival if we hadn’t behaved like sheep and followed the crowd the exit from the platform is on the same level as the town and we could have saved an awful lot of time and effort – ah well – we’d know next time. We bought a couple of cans of Peroni for €6, which is still expensive considering how small they were, but they felt cheap at the time and drank them on the train back to Villefranche. It only takes about 15 minutes to get home and when we got there we went for a swim (nager) and it was wonderful but the beach was packed and there were far too many people, especially kids. This beach has never been big enough and it’s always been busy but since they’ve privatised a large part of it it’s become quite unpleasant. So from now on it’s la Darse beach at the weekend and the sandy beach near the station during the week.

On the way home I spotted this sign outside a café and loved it – Huw said that the owner was giving me some very funny looks when I took this photo.