The first morning of the cruise had us wake up on the docks of Monte Carlo. No big surprise, as we went to sleep there. But we were not among the bold who went into the city at Midnight to check out the casino.
That's Monte Carlo. To be honest, you'd think all those jillionaires could find somewhere nicer to live. I suppose they're there for tax purposes and to be away from the rest of us, but it sort of looks like a mini-Hong Kong, which is a mini-NYC. As our new friend from Belgium said, not one square meter has not been built upon. We've been to or near other jillionaire playgrounds, but Monte Carlo I understand the least.
Our ride. It's obligatory to not take pictures as you walk away. I hope to get a pic of it with a standard size cruise ship near it, so that you can see it's really just a big yacht.
Some Medieval looking buildings up on the hill.
In Monte Carlo, they refer to this as a street. We have the same in the USA, but you don't have to be rich the step on our bricks.
I found this odd. Pictures of the Crown Prince are around, even in this gelato shop. The only other time I saw this was in Zimbabwe, where the pics were of Robert Mugabe; an evil, disgusting dictator who robs his country and starves his people. Does Prince Albert really want to use the same playbook as Mugabe?
Hey, the Prince Albert pic was in a gelato shop. You think I walked in to take a picture of Al?
An annoying trait Californians have is that they look at beaches around the world and think, "Man, that beach stinks." Sorry. Who wants to lay on rocks?
The Palace Museum. We didn't go in. We also didn't go to the casino. Yes, that's a little like going to Paris and skipping the Eiffel Tower, but we learned that they charge you 10e to walk in and look around, and if you want to go into the better parts once you are inside, to see the real gambling, well, those areas are by invitation only. What do you know? An invitation is 10e. If it can bought, it's not an invitation, it's an admission. Stay classy, Monte Carlo.
Sacs pour la merde de chien. This was the only sign of real sophistication I found in Monte Carlo. Free dog poop bags. Free? Mon dieu, socialism.
To our surprise, we were invited to the Captain's table. It was nice. I didn't take a picture. I should have. Barbie sat next to the Cap'n. Merde! (Not sure why this pic chose to upload crooked. It's right side up on the iPhone and computer. I hope you don't hurt yourself trying to read it.)
On the top level in the back, this is where you'll find me reading while others get massages and pedicures.
Expect many pictures of where my feet have been. They are for my upcoming coffee table book, "Where My Feet Have Been."
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