We continued on to Monaco and the Casino Monte-Carlo. Who’d have imagined? All of us commented on the richness so thick you could cut it with a knife, that you could smell the money in the air. Subtlety and understatement are not included in the vocabulary of this pinpoint country. Monaco is a place of overstated extravagance.
Monaco is the cluster of high-rises tucked into the rounded bay in the distance.
This is the marker stone as we entered into the principality of Monaco.
This small, independent principality is formed of a half-moon bit of the southeastern shore of France, not far from the border into Italy. There are two grand marinas hosting yachts beyond belief. Hotels circle the casino; their other homes are all the great cities of the world. The Grand Prix route is painted with the racer’s checkboard. All the finest shops for jewels and clothing have a presence in Monte-Carlo.
Monaco (and the district of Monte-Carlo) are Disneyland-style, exaggerated caricatures of way-over-the-top excess. For me, I can only imagine going there to drop my jaw, marvel at the ornamentation and know that I’ve seen it. I can’t imagine making it a serious destination, because it’s so far outside of my reach, my comprehension or even my desire.
The front entrance of the Hotel De Paris, across the drive from the Casino Monte-Carlo.
The seaside face of the Hotel De Paris.
Grand city names round the arc of the Hotel De Paris.
Even the newer construction reflects the style and extravagance of the old.
Checkerboard patterning on the Grand Prix raceway route.
The Principality of Monaco.
“Yes, we’d like to order some bread for the restaurant tonight.” “OK. No problem. We’ll bring it by and leave it outside by the door.” “Great. Thanks.” (Would this ever be allowed in the U.S.?)
I’d heard of the Hermitage for years. Here it is.
Even the signage has the same lux feel.
We got around to the other side of the bend in the bay just after sunset.