Taking the Bus to Monaco…
I stood on the high-rise exterior deck of a rented apartment and looked out onto the Mediterranean Sea where a yacht was lazily sitting before the dawn sun. I then looked down at the city below and realized; 'My God, I am in Monaco'. Not bad for someone going on six months of being unemployed...
Technically I wasn't IN Monaco, I was in Beausoleil, the French city that overlooks Monaco. I wasn't going to split hairs. As far as I am concerned, if you can step outside of your Airbnb and five minutes later be in the Casino Monte Carlo, you are staying in Monaco.
Our 'ménage a trois of travelers' (Doina, Svetlana, and I) came in late the night before from Sanremo across the border in Italy. We had a hilarious moment when Doina had to climb up the side of the apartment complex (she is very short) to retrieve the key fob for the parking garage. It's always an adventure with us.
We only stayed that night as we drove on to Nice the next day. Our plan was to come back to Monaco from Nice on the intercity bus. It made sense to Doina, our navigator.
In Nice, Doina gave me a concerned look when, after stating that we would be taking a bus from Nice to Monaco, I asked "Is there First-Class seating available?".
It will shock none of you to learn that I have no idea how to ride a bus. In America, where I live, the bus is only used by drug dealers, drug users, amateur criminals, and other villains. Doina explained to me that on the French Riviera the bus service is a different experience.
The day had not started well. My two companions and I had a massive row at breakfast (my fault entirely), and I think due to jet-lag I was completely non-functional. On the bus ride I refused to look out the window at the stunning vistas of the Cote d'Azure. I was in a sorry state.
Turned out, Doina was correct about the bus! For one, it was perfectly clean and very well maintained. Also, the people using the bus weren't vagrants. We sat by a French family who, based on their watches and jewelry, were VERY well off indeed. It's amazing to me after so many years in America to see real humans using public transport.
Sensing I was not my usual rambunctious self, Svetlana suggested we get an espresso as soon as we arrived in Monaco. I kid you not, the moment that sweet nectar of the gods hit my lips I was a changed man! No longer tired and miserable, I was now extremely energetic and excited to be in Monaco. The 'ménage a trois of travelers' was healed.
Our plan was to hike to the Prince's Palace up on the hill overlooking the city. Fueled with espresso and a chocolate chip cookie from a café, I ran up that bloody mountain! What we found up there was quite surprising...
Instead of the glitz and glamour of yachts and Gucci shops, you are treated to cathedrals, museums, and narrow winding European streets. The Palace and surrounding area was a completely different vibe. I thought it was all brilliant.
In the beautiful 'Cathedrale de Monaco' is the tombs for the Royal Family of Monaco. I found it quite bizarre once I realized that most of the tombs in the cathedral only had a birth date on them...the Royal hasn't bloody died yet!!! I'm not sure how I would feel knowing that from the day I was born there was, literally, a tombstone with my name on it.
After debating the frivolities of life and death, we all decided it was time for a spot of lunch. We managed to get the last table available at "U' Cavagnetu" (which means 'Picnic Basket' in the Monegasque language). Down a tight alley, just a short walk from the Prince's Palace, the restaurant has been around since 1967 and serves a delicious menu of Monegasque cuisine.
We ordered a bottle of wine and, instead of going into the back, the waitress picked the very bottle we ordered off the rack next to our table. It's funny how charming little incidences like that can stick with you. For my meal I had the 'Tartare de Boeuf' and we finished with the 'Creme Brulee'.
The day was winding down and it was time to return to our hotel in Nice. Unlike in the morning, I was excited to ride the bus as I knew I wouldn't be accosted by junkies and heroin peddlers. I was also excited to see the beautiful views of the Cote d'Azure I had missed before because I was being a miserable wanker. Unfortunately, I didn't get to see anything because the bus was now on the other side of the road. Oh well, sometimes you really do pay for your poor behaviour...
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