TRAVEL FOR TWO: A Place for Well-Heeled Mountain Goats

Richard Zubrinich's Travel Tales

Roger Zubrinich and Judy Peters like to travel. A lot. Prior to the pandemic, the couple would escape the Australian winter and head to Europe for the summer, traipsing through countries via a hire car.

With overseas travel now something of a dream, Roger has decided to revisit some of their destinations in writing. This week, Roger and Judy attempt to climb their way through Monaco.

Monaco? While in Nice how could we not check out James Bond’s stamping ground? We took a train and immediately after exiting the railway station at Monaco we managed to find the steps of the Ramp de la Major that took us up to the top of ‘The Rock’.

Monaco from the Rock
That’s the promontory that has perched on it the old town and the Prince’s Palace where the Grimaldis, who’ve ruled Monaco more or less from the late 13th century, park their bums. Street names in the Principality are a testament to their humility – Rue Grimaldi, Boulevard Albert 1st, Boulevard Rainier 3rd, Avenue Princess Grace – you get the picture. But for the street names we wouldn’t know they existed save for the not infrequent scandals over the centuries and in more modern times paparazzi pics as well.

The climb was steep, as they always are. Once again no lifts for us. From our 62-metre-high perch we had an excellent view over the La Condamine quarter and Port Hercules. We shared the viewing platform near the palace with fellow panorama psychotics who were busily taking photographs. The clicking of shutters sounded like an insect invasion.

It was easy to see why the city-state of Monaco, the second-smallest country in the world, is also one of the most densely populated. The area between the coast and the peaks in the hinterland is tightly packed with high-rise buildings. It’s rather like looking at Hong Kong from Victoria Peak, but on a smaller scale, and arguably less interesting.
We rapidly tired of looking at high-rises and although the marina and the view across the port with its congestion of luxury craft is engaging it wasn’t enough to keep us for very long. Besides, from that vantage point it’s not possible to feel omniscient and on top of the world, when all you’re surveying is a testament to the ghastly inequities of the free market and the ugliness of the way wealth is distributed on this planet.
We didn’t join the happy snappers for the changing of the guard at the 12th century palace – life’s too short for that sort of arcane nonsense – but we did walk through the narrow passages of the old town in the precinct of the palace and found it not an unpleasant way to pass the time. The walk on Avenue St Martin past St Nicholas Cathedral, St Martins Gardens and the Oceanographic Museum was equally pleasant.

After getting lost for a while we arrived where we’d intended, in the square in Place du Casino. The gardens in front of the casino, replete with palm trees, carefully cut grass and fountains, are emblematic of Monaco – meticulously manicured to sterility.

The contrived elegance of the casino building, and the Hotel de Paris next to it, intensified my sense of being an alien entity in a parallel world, which in many ways I was. The cars in front of the casino – big Mercs, a Roller and a couple of sports cars that cost more than the mortgage on my house – trumpeted the fact that this wasn’t a place for me. If I had a few thousand to spare I could have spent a night in a junior suite with a sea view in the Hotel de Paris, or for quite a few thousand more I could have disported myself for a night in its most important and financially crippling suite.
Monte Carlo Casino, Monaco
Monaco is a repository for anyone with loads of loot who doesn’t want to pay taxes. If you’re very skilled at enterprises that substantially improve the human condition, like belting a ball around a tennis court or a golf course, or if you can drive a car at great speed without killing yourself or others, this is the place for you. You can keep all your money without contributing some of it back to the country of your birth in the form of taxes to improve the welfare of the less fortunate. If you’re a corporate person with cash to keep, this is your stamping ground. You can buy an extra yacht with the taxes you don’t pay.
On the way back to the railway station to return to Nice, the only thing of interest that caught my eye was a person I assumed was an indigene, exercising naked on his balcony with his tackle bouncing around like an X-rated Muppet. We couldn’t be bothered walking elsewhere because Monaco is very steep and walking involved much effort for little return. Monaco is truly the place for well-heeled mountain goats.

Travel for Two is a guest series by Roger Zubrinich.
Keep an eye on the blog for future instalments.