Menton and Monaco

Today is Jeûne Genevois, a Genevan holiday thanks to which I have received a long weekend at work. To make good use of it, I decided to meet up with Johnny in Nice and spend four days along the French coast. Had I known how hot it would be, perhaps I would have put off this adventure for a later month, but there is little I can do about it now besides sweating, hydrating, and complaining. I arrived on the evening of the sixth, having left my suit and dress shoes in the office and having changed into more leisurely apparel for the flight. Together with Johnny, we made our way to our accommodation, which was some twenty minutes from the airport. Much of the surrounding area is connected by a single trainline, which makes transportation very convenient.

On our first day, we ate a leisurely breakfast of fresh bread, cheese, and pastries, before heading to the train station and buying tickets for Menton. I did not know it at the time, but jostling against a crowd of seniors (since queueing does not seem to be what people do in these parts) and struggling against a stubbornly idiotic ticket machine were the easy part. The difficult part was finding our platform after having rushed through the turnstiles and not finding any display boards. Fortunately, I have enough French at my fingertips to be able to ask for advice.

Menton was a pleasant town with lovely pastel-coloured buildings and evidently lived-in streets. Even on a Thursday morning, the beaches were full of people, who had already started to flee from the mounting heat by taking refuge in the sea. We walked through the city to one of these beaches, taking in the views of Menton from the east before climbing up to the Basilica of Saint Michael Archangel and returning to the train station.

Our second destination and the main item on the agenda for the day was Monaco. When I told my French friends that I was planning to visit, they expressed disparaging surprise. Monaco is an ugly town, they said, which is quite a feat in a place as nice as the French Riviera. I cannot say my experience confirmed these prejudices, but I did get the impression that while money is in good supply there, taste is not. Building an opera to be part of a casino, for example, is criminal enough, but using the classical venue to perform The Phantom of the Opera just adds insult to injury. This is not to mention the fact that when viewed from the sea, the Monte Carlo is partly obscured by a massive ugly marquee.

Atrocities like this abounded. The city was plastered with giant posters of Rainier III to commemorate what would have been his 100^th birthday, but his giant face against a red and white colour scheme made it seem as though he were a 20^th century dictator trying to build a cult of personality. Speaking of the princely family, I was disappointed to see that the area in front of their palace serves as a glorified parking lot for a bunch of old cars. While I have no doubt these are expensive, and probably pretty in the eyes of collectors, it seems a bit obnoxious for a prince to make such a public display of his own wealth.

Somewhere between Casino Monte Carlo and the Palace, I saw enough fancy cars and well-dressed people that I resolved not to give this country a single cent of my money. This resolution lasted until we returned to the train station and realised that we would, unfortunately, have to buy train tickets to Nice. Our itinerary took us through a sizeable part of Monaco: starting at the train station in the northwest, we walked to the Casino Monte Carlo in the west, and then circumambulated the main harbour to the country’s south.

We felt somewhat tired and hungry when we returned to Nice. After eating a quick lunch, all we did was visit the Orthodox Cathedral of Saint Nicholas and go home. Speaking of which, the number of Russian-speakers I have heard around here is mindboggling, and I am not sure to what I should attribute it: either they are dual-EU (or Monaco) citizens avoiding sanctions or they are Eastern Ukraine’s refugee elite. In the evening, we only re-emerged for a moment to acquire a pizza and crawl back into our den.