Monako

On the 20 hour passage to Monaco we never lose sight of land. Corsica is out to port for most of the day and when darkness falls Italy’s twinkling lights keep us company. As dawn breaks we see France and raise the French courtesy flag. It is quickly dropped again when we learn that it is discourteous to fly the French flag when entering the sovereign state of Monaco. My phone beeps with a welcome message and a new roaming tariff, a reminder that Monaco is not in the E.U. We take for granted how seamlessly we can move between countries and it comes as a bit of a surprise when we encounter some red tape on our arrival.
We are about to tie up at the reception berth when the marina manager checks for our reservation. No reservation means no docking and he refuses to take a line from us. In fairness he is very nice about it and he starts to make a few phone calls while we hover just off the berth. Since our decision to travel to Monaco was last minute we didn’t fill out the online reservation forms. We discover these are meant to be submitted for approval by to the port authorities 48 hours before entering Monaco. The manager comes back to us to say that we can tie up but that we must go to the port police office right away. There is no time for our usual night passage recovery routine (sleep) so with a quick splash of water to the face and a change of clothes we walk across town with our bag of documents and present ourselves for inspection.
We pass muster and are now free to enjoy Monaco which turns out to be practically perfect in every way.
It is so pleasant that it is feels surreal. There are esculators at the foot of every hill, pristine public toilets everywhere and koi and turtles in the ponds of the public parks. There are no beggars, street hawkers or pickpockets and every building looks freshly painted. There are work crews out repairing and replacing things and a jetski that goes around picking up litter from the water. And everyone is so friendly, it feels like ‘The Truman Show’.
A Monacan lady in the park puts chat on us and tells us how she loves living here. She explains how safe it is and that locals are well looked after. They have access to great facilities and schools and are provided with accommodation so they don’t have to compete with foreigners for the multi-million euro apartments we have seen advertised in the estate agent windows. It is a wonderful place to live, she says but there are more rules than most countries. We get the feeling that if you left a plant on your balcony die, the authorities would be around soon enough.
Later Colm and I meet another resident who is in the middle of rescuing a little turtle from the road. As we walk along the road together I struggle through a long conversation in French only to discover she is an ex-pat from England .
The final friendly Monacan we meet helps us catch the bus to Monte Carlo casino. We meet her again on the night bus home when we are loaded down with our winnings from roulette. She sits next to me and tells me her life story, including how the man sitting there had once found her missing dog. I feel like I’m on the last bus home from Cork. Czytaj więcej