Monday 30th Cannes, Nice
and Monaco
We were fed and aboard the tender
boat before 8am. We found ourselves with
the Hondurans and a handful of others. J noticed barges with firework launchers
in the bay offshore – seems to be a major firework season here. We landed at
Cannes and made straight for the station, passing through a local antique
market on the way. The Hondurans (Alex and Helen) turned up again and showed us
to the ticket office, where we paid 12 Euros each for a rail day pass. (Firework festival finished yesterday...damn)
The trains all seemed to be in
lateness as the French say. Eventually one came and we piled aboard a
graffiti’d carriage in which most of the reclining seats seemed to be broken.
It was about an hour to Nice, where we had expected to stay aboard and go
straight to Monaco, but the train terminated there and we had to wait for
another. This was only a 20 minute spin along the coast more or less at sea
level. We missed most of the excitement and glorious views from the Corniche
road above – getting occasional glimpses between the tunnels.
Eventually we disappeared
underground and finished up in a beautiful station complex buried under Monaco.
Everything was spotless and new looking. We headed down towards the beach and
emerged in the wonder of a millionaires’ playground. The collection of “yachts”
was incredible. Don’t ask how many metres they might have been – they were just
plain Huge.
Put it this way, they all had
garages built into their bums where they kept the jetskis and whatever other
stuff millionaires need. There were few with obvious signs of owners but most
of them were tended by staff and there were shoes left on the quay to protect
the precious decks. Hosing down the walls and windows was a very popular
pastime, as was polishing the gleaming chrome trim. They were nearly all
registered in Malta or the Bahamas or the Cayman Islands.
We made our way past hundreds of
such floating mansions and past a building site where they were excavating to
build something underneath the foundations of an existing building. Up a few
steps and we suddenly found ourselves on the road passing through underneath
the casino. And of course this isn’t just any road . . . its part of the track
for the Monaco Grand Prix.
We walked past the casino (yes it’s
the scene of the old song about The Man Who Broke the Bank At Monte Caarlo) and
found ourselves at The World’s Most Famous Hairpin, where the cars come
down and spin round a 3 leafed hairpin
before they roar away along the beach front straight.
The tunnel
Hairpin bend
Model of race car
Pole position on the road with the remains of the finish line just behind the gray car.
There was no time to linger because
we had to get right across Monte Carlo to the Palace where the changing of the
guard occurs at 11.55 each day. This took us along the other main straight of
the race track, including the starting grid. At the end they had a small go
kart track enclosed with a couple of carts and 2 youngsters were spinning
around there. We bumped into the Hondurans again – they had just come down the
steep hill in front of us and were heading off towards the racetrack.
It was a sweaty climb but we peaked
at 11.50 and waited at the back of the scrum of people waiting for the show to
start. Fairly interesting but not riveting.
A bunch of guys came out from the guardhouse, slapped rifles with
another bunch who marched across the square with a drum and trumpet, changed
places and they all vanished again.
We wandered around the old part of
town next to the palace, which was very picturesque in a Mykonos–without-the-white-and-blue
sort of way. We managed to get a fridge magnet at a good price and struck off
for the station.
Million dollar views
The remaining trains did not really
allow much time to get off in Nice and there was nothing in particular there
that we needed to do. And the French trains seemed to be perennially late so it
seemed to be better to get back to Cannes and explore there. The train runs
along the beachfront and we got to see the summer crowds enjoying a (somewhat
windswept) dip at Antibes and St Juan les Pins etc.
We couldn’t find an internet shop but
we found what looked like the centre where they hold the Film Festival. There
were hand and foot prints of some minor celebrities and we found a staircase
with a pretty tatty red carpet. Round the corner was another row of
mega-luxurious yachts.
Cannes beach
They all have a castle on the top of the hill
We made the ship in time for lunch
(until 4.30!) and caught and won the afternoon trivia with Hannah, the scatty
Yorkshire girl. We had the 10 seat table to ourselves and Una just kept
bringing food we hadn’t ordered. First the plate of nuts, cheese and fruit
(sorry Tom) then the entrée of seafood skewers, several ice creams and a cherry
slice. The food we actually ordered was very good too – prawns, lobster bisque,
fillet steak (yes they CAN do steak!) and chocolate soufflé. Now we need to
train him to fetch champagne. They had a piano/violin duet playing upstairs and
just for once no parades or singing waiters.
We peered out of our window to see
whether they actually had drinks at the captain’s reception. When we saw there
were trays of cocktails we shot down and scored a heap, then off to the show,
which featured a Rat Pack tribute trio. They were extremely good and now we are
trying to remember the name of the 4th one. Its so irritating not having access to the net
when you want it.
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