That meant that on Thursday we had to train it along the coast into Monaco. This trip was right along the Mediterranean, past beautiful beaches and along cliff tops. The train was an odd combination of tourists donning sandals and cameras and business men wearing suits and too much aftershave (the first indication that Monaco is a country with money). We in fact witnessed 2 groups of English business men who were seated in the same booth (in first class of course, not like us plebs), introduce themselves, casually discuss what they do, exchange stories about traveling overseas, agree to meet up for drinks and swap business cards. Any chance to network I guess.
Our first experience of Monaco was the underground train station, located along the northern border. It resembles more of a fancy airport (the second indication that Monaco is a rich man's paradise) and after several travelators we emerged into the Mediterranean sun on the coast... on the other side of the country. At 2 km squared and a population density of 15,000 people per km squared, Monaco is the second smallest country in the world after the Vatican.
After heading onto the street and looking around we quickly realised why there were no places to stay nearby- built on the side of steep mountain, Monaco is almost vertical, with each street parallel to the coast much than the next. The best way to get from one street to the next in particularly steep places is using their public transport system - 7 internal lifts that scale the mountain in various places. There's nothing peculiar about them - you simply walk into a building, get into a normal lift, pick the street you want and vwa la!
The Monaco Yacht Show was on while we were there meaning the marina was full of expensive, HUGE yachts and the restaurants full of swanky people in suits who reeked of money (the third indication. I should probably stop counting - you get the idea).
After lunch and a spot of wandering the streets and lift hopping, we made our way to Monaco's most well know building - the Monte Carlo Casino. Set on a cliff over looking the water at the end of Princess Grace Avenue, it is quite an impressive building. Just like in James Bond, to enter the private gambling rooms you must be wearing a suit and a suit is compulsory for all patrons after 8pm. Matt and I have never been into a casino so we paid our €10 entry fee each. Unfortunately we had forgotten to suit up that day so were restricted to the 2 public rooms. These in themselves were spectacular with high painted ceilings, wood paneled walls, ornate chandeliers and everything decorated with gold, although they were much smaller than expected. The first room contained the gaming tables with all the dealers wearing suits and bow ties. We stood around behind the players with the crowds watching games of black jack and roulette where brave men (yes, they were all men) squandered their money as the minimum bet for each round is €25. No such thing as a €5 chip here. The games move so fast it is almost impossible to follow. At the blackjack table the dealer would quickly go around saying the number each hand was worth but would say it in French for those who spoke French and in English for the foreigners. Sometimes he had 5 people with alternating languages and never faulted. By the time he was finished I was still adding up the first hand to see what it was worth.
Keen to have a go ourselves we moved into the second room which is full of pokies. This was more our style and would require no interaction, knowledge of the game or people watching over our shoulder. We played blackjack, betting €5 (the minimum as you can't insert coins) and not surprisingly lost it all. We played a different game second and, after inserting €5, won €20 so decided to call it quits. All in all we only lost €10. €20 for entry, €10 for playing and a €20 win. Not too bad I suppose.
We caught the train back out of Monaco and decided to stop off at Nice for a look around. It was nice. We caught the tram down the main street (we know how Matt loves his trams) and hopped off at the beach. We spent our winnings on cocktails at a bar right on the sand. And by sand I actually mean pebbles. There was no sand in sight and we watched swimmers, wearing sandals, hobble across the pebbles and into the cool turquoise water and sun bathers attempt to look comfortable as they lay painfully on their towels. Those more sophisticated beach goers had paid €14 to have a sun bed, umbrella and service from the bar. The beach nearly had more boobies than the Moulin Rouge with young and oldies alike bearing all to get some sun.
The next day, after having had enough of the coast, we headed towards the French Alps, via Italy of course. This was one of our most amazing drives yet. The roads plough through the mountains and for over 60kms it was continuously a bridge over a valley and then a tunnel through a mountain, over and over again. We never drove on normal ground. After a few hours in Italy we made it back to the Italy/French border and drove through the 11km tunnel under Mont Blanc. The day cost us €90 in tolls but after witnessing the engineering and effort involved, we happily paid.
We settled down for the night in Chamonix, home of the first winter Olympics, with a view of snow capped mountains from our windows.
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