Country No.32 - Monaco
Having been to Gibraltar, Liechtenstein and most recently the Vatican, it was only logical to check out – Monaco. Originally I was planning to bag the other famous microstate – Malta, but at the time of booking things looked a bit volatile with Libyan fighter jets defecting there and boatloads of people seeking refuge. The only thing people are seeking refuge from in Monaco is paying taxes.
A few people have been asking when I’m going to go to some “proper countries”, not these phonies who think that they are too special, rich or religious to be lumped in with everyone else. They have a point; all of the four principalities/microstates I have mentioned combined wouldn’t be as large as event the borough of London I live in. But I sort of like that. It seems wrong that Salt Lake City and New York City are part of the same country, that French-speaking Quebec is lumped in with Canada. I know it’s not good to be a militant separatist but I like how these quirky countries make it work.
For regular readers – I like how Liechtenstein have clearly read my blog and taken that thought to its logical conclusion – “Hey we’re all about filthy lucre dudes, so why don’t we go right on ahead and just RENT OUR WHOLE COUNTRY OUT”. I wonder what the deposit is like on that rental. And do you have to paint the place Magnolia and put some Vanish on the wine carpet stains before you leave?
So Monaco, second smallest country in the world after Vatican, with about 2km squared in land, costs a mere 1 euro to get to on the bus from Nice. That has to be the best euro you’ll ever spend - 45 mins of climbing and winding up the coast, past stunning Cap Ferrat, David Niven’s pink palace, and the place where the Stones recorded Exile on Maine St.
I was expecting to get gypped when we arrived but it seems these people have so much silly money they didn’t need ours. The sculpture garden was free, the famous Cathedral was free, the Palace was free – and in use. There was a conveniently located Carrefour where I bought some deck shoes for 5 Euros and the King’s Zoo was a mere 4 Euros each.
The Cathedral where Grace Kelly and Prince Rainier have simple headstones was stunning outside and sweetly utilitarian inside. The old town was charming, I had forgotten my printed number (DAMNIT) and didn’t want to go down the slippery slope of photoshopping it in, so we found a No.32 door and a charming cafe next door.
As we ate we could hear the excitable tones of a foreign sports commentator. At the time we assumed it was a tennis match playing in a bar, but we realised too late it was the Monte Carlo Rolex Open Masters . I think we may actually have been hearing the game itself, we tried to buy tickets for the next day but they had risen from 50 to 500 euros a day in the last week. I kicked myself for missing the chance to see Nadal’s guns in the flesh ;-)
All in all it’s a nice place but looks a bit timeshare-y, and you get the impression that most of the action takes place in the super-yachts rather than on land. Pottering round the Zoo we got a sense of how unnatural the place really is. Perched on successive levels up the side of the sheer cliff face, with stairs winding up to the castle, there was a creepy Michael Jacksonish feel to the place. The animals seemed over-socialised and greeted us too readily. A parrot practiced its English on us and the marmosets and Lemurs placidly let us stroke them through the bars.
The saddest was a lone Hippo who rose gloriously from the water, looked over at the Abramovich super-yachts and then flobbed himself back in the pool again. Like his royal owners you get the strong impression that after a short while, life here gets very very boring. Shame the Monaco citizens aren’t allowed to used their own casino…
