Home again.
We arrived last night just a little ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, our bags did not. I always think of the problems that could ensue if our bags don't go where we go. This was our first time in all these years of travel to have our bags not come with us. We've had other problems like missed connections forcing an overnight stay, unexpectedly.
And one time, expired passports caused us to miss our scheduled flight. All was made whole when we got proper documentation and were allowed on the plane. That was in the days before such rigid passenger identity checks. We ran all over town getting documentation and still made it to our destination in the Carribean before nightfall.
But, we've never had to wait for our bags. Luckily, NJ was our final destination, as the airlines say. So, we wait here at home for our bags to be delivered. I always fear a problem whenever we have connecting flights. This time our luggage stayed an extra day in London.
Back home, back to being on familiar soil with a language that we understand. I think it is now that we truly feel retired. Before, we were always looking forward to some event. Now, we don't have our next vacation planned, yet. A week in Maine to move furniture out for the floors to be refinished. Then close up the house for the winter and come back to New Jersey.
We missed our grandchildren while we were away in Maine and France. Now we will be able to see them regularly again.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
In a Kingdom by the Sea
October 17, 2010, final day of vacation
If you are a keen follower of song lyrics, (granted, most people aren't, but I am) you'll see that often my titles make reference to lyrics of popular songs from what is called the American Song Book. This is the same. However, this one is a bit of an upgrade, because Monaco is really only a Principality.
On Sunday, we took a day trip by the 1 Euro bus to Monaco. The trip was less than an hour, all of which we spent standing because the bus was packed. The skies were a bit gray when we left, but we were, of course, hopeful that the day would clear up and we would have sun for our last day of fun. On Monday, we fly back to Newark.
Monaco is a tiny jewel-box of a principality. This one-city country is perched firmly on the rocks of the mountains that go directly into the sea with no break for a beach at all. The fall into the sea must be as sharp as the rise from it, because it is book-ended with marinas on both ends of the city.
Here is the western side:
This is no joke, the cliffs really do plunge right into the water. Since there is no beach area at all, there were many, many roof-top pools. For those people not lucky enough for a pool, there is this swim terrace that goes right to the water. Just imagine it in the summer, completely filled with sunbathers.
Of all of the marinas we saw on the French and Italian Rivieras, Monaco had the largest number of the largest of yachts. Here's a sample:
This yacht was the size of a small cruise ship.
We started our day there by going up to nearly the top to the palace. As palaces go, this wasn't particularly awe-inspiring. This is not Buckingham Palace, for sure. Apparently, Prince Albert II was not in residence on Sunday because his standard was not flying.
At 11:50 every day, there is a public-relations changing of the guard. This guard did not look as fancy as the English Beefeaters. They were dressed somewhat informally in white outfits, with red tee-shirts underneath. We noticed that they all had what seemed like a large number of medals. Since Monaco hasn't been engaged in warfare since they gave up most of their landholdings more than a century ago, we couldn't figure out exactly what the medals were. None the less, they looked nice. We were a little early, so we hung around the gift shop with other tourists until near the time, then got a prime spot for photos.
After the new set of guards took up their positions, the guards leaving duty marched down a short aisle in front of the palace, got into this van and unceremoniously drove off.
With the excitement of the guard changing over, all of us dispersed to other places. We walked down along some of the many public gardens that dot the "landscape". Every square inch of space in this country is used for something. If it is not paved with stones, it is used for gardens. The gardens, like almost everything else, cling to the side of the rock. Most of the gardens are small, tidy and quite nice. Unlike all of France, I did not notice one sign admonishing visitors to keep off the grass.
One garden led us directly to the huge ornate edifice built by Albert I a hundred years ago, or so, to house the Oceanographic Institute that he founded. Apparently from the political postcards we saw in Antibes, Prince Albert I squeezed his people for all that they had so that he could not only live lavishly, but also do "good works". One of his pet projects was the Oceanographic Institute. The building is really grand. So is the price of admission, so we contented ourselves with the gift shop and lots of photos of the ocean side of the building. It was quite spectacular.
From there we walked along the adjoining neighborhood and quickly came upon the Cathedral where Grace Kelly married Prince Charming and lived somewhat happily ever after until her fatal car crash off the side of one of those treacherous narrow ancient streets. She and Prince Ranier III are both buried there. The Cathedral is huge. It was constructed at the same time as the Monte Carlo casino -- obviously to honor both gods.
It was now early afternoon and we were getting hungry. Larry had found a place where he really wanted to eat. As is often the case, it was recommended in guidebooks. My opinion is that anyplace recommended in a guidebook should be avoided at any cost, but I'm usually overruled. It was an "American" style bar/cafe, meaning that they served hamburgers, fries, and Sunday brunch in addition to the usual French menu items. It had rather loud music and a race car theme, since is was just next door to the Moto Club of Monaco (for motorcycle fans) and around the corner from the Automobile Club of Monaco.
It was on the inside curve of the marina, so we walked along the breakwater to get there. We could hear engine noises, like someone was tuning up a car. The noise was incessant and was bouncing off of the mountains, making an echo. As we got nearer to the restaurant, we saw crews lined up with some type of engines that were on waist-high utility type carts. We had no immediate idea what they were. As we walked along, it became apparent that there was a race about to start along the marina for go-carts. We stopped for the first race of 12 laps and made our way towards the restaurant during the following race.
It was interesting to watch the race. The drivers were all teenagers, and were from all over Europe and America. Many, many thousands of dollars went into the equipment, trucks to transport them and race team. All of them seemed to have corporate sponsorship.
The second race was called due to complications from rain when there was a multi-kart pile up. I was glad to see that they stopped the race instead of allowing it to go on and certainly have injuries.
Lunch was a bit delayed by the race. For one thing, we had to walk along the entire length of the marina and back just to get to it. The restaurant happened to be at about the halfway mark of the racetrack. It was now 4:00.
By the time we finished lunch and walked back to the bus stop, the rain had just about stopped and our trip back to Nice (also standing) was punctuated with bursts of sun now and then streaming across the Mediterranean as it began to lower towards the horizon.
If you are a keen follower of song lyrics, (granted, most people aren't, but I am) you'll see that often my titles make reference to lyrics of popular songs from what is called the American Song Book. This is the same. However, this one is a bit of an upgrade, because Monaco is really only a Principality.
On Sunday, we took a day trip by the 1 Euro bus to Monaco. The trip was less than an hour, all of which we spent standing because the bus was packed. The skies were a bit gray when we left, but we were, of course, hopeful that the day would clear up and we would have sun for our last day of fun. On Monday, we fly back to Newark.
Monaco is a tiny jewel-box of a principality. This one-city country is perched firmly on the rocks of the mountains that go directly into the sea with no break for a beach at all. The fall into the sea must be as sharp as the rise from it, because it is book-ended with marinas on both ends of the city.
Here is the western side:
This is no joke, the cliffs really do plunge right into the water. Since there is no beach area at all, there were many, many roof-top pools. For those people not lucky enough for a pool, there is this swim terrace that goes right to the water. Just imagine it in the summer, completely filled with sunbathers.
This yacht was the size of a small cruise ship.
We started our day there by going up to nearly the top to the palace. As palaces go, this wasn't particularly awe-inspiring. This is not Buckingham Palace, for sure. Apparently, Prince Albert II was not in residence on Sunday because his standard was not flying.
At 11:50 every day, there is a public-relations changing of the guard. This guard did not look as fancy as the English Beefeaters. They were dressed somewhat informally in white outfits, with red tee-shirts underneath. We noticed that they all had what seemed like a large number of medals. Since Monaco hasn't been engaged in warfare since they gave up most of their landholdings more than a century ago, we couldn't figure out exactly what the medals were. None the less, they looked nice. We were a little early, so we hung around the gift shop with other tourists until near the time, then got a prime spot for photos.
After the new set of guards took up their positions, the guards leaving duty marched down a short aisle in front of the palace, got into this van and unceremoniously drove off.
With the excitement of the guard changing over, all of us dispersed to other places. We walked down along some of the many public gardens that dot the "landscape". Every square inch of space in this country is used for something. If it is not paved with stones, it is used for gardens. The gardens, like almost everything else, cling to the side of the rock. Most of the gardens are small, tidy and quite nice. Unlike all of France, I did not notice one sign admonishing visitors to keep off the grass.
One garden led us directly to the huge ornate edifice built by Albert I a hundred years ago, or so, to house the Oceanographic Institute that he founded. Apparently from the political postcards we saw in Antibes, Prince Albert I squeezed his people for all that they had so that he could not only live lavishly, but also do "good works". One of his pet projects was the Oceanographic Institute. The building is really grand. So is the price of admission, so we contented ourselves with the gift shop and lots of photos of the ocean side of the building. It was quite spectacular.
From there we walked along the adjoining neighborhood and quickly came upon the Cathedral where Grace Kelly married Prince Charming and lived somewhat happily ever after until her fatal car crash off the side of one of those treacherous narrow ancient streets. She and Prince Ranier III are both buried there. The Cathedral is huge. It was constructed at the same time as the Monte Carlo casino -- obviously to honor both gods.
It was now early afternoon and we were getting hungry. Larry had found a place where he really wanted to eat. As is often the case, it was recommended in guidebooks. My opinion is that anyplace recommended in a guidebook should be avoided at any cost, but I'm usually overruled. It was an "American" style bar/cafe, meaning that they served hamburgers, fries, and Sunday brunch in addition to the usual French menu items. It had rather loud music and a race car theme, since is was just next door to the Moto Club of Monaco (for motorcycle fans) and around the corner from the Automobile Club of Monaco.
It was on the inside curve of the marina, so we walked along the breakwater to get there. We could hear engine noises, like someone was tuning up a car. The noise was incessant and was bouncing off of the mountains, making an echo. As we got nearer to the restaurant, we saw crews lined up with some type of engines that were on waist-high utility type carts. We had no immediate idea what they were. As we walked along, it became apparent that there was a race about to start along the marina for go-carts. We stopped for the first race of 12 laps and made our way towards the restaurant during the following race.
It was interesting to watch the race. The drivers were all teenagers, and were from all over Europe and America. Many, many thousands of dollars went into the equipment, trucks to transport them and race team. All of them seemed to have corporate sponsorship.
The second race was called due to complications from rain when there was a multi-kart pile up. I was glad to see that they stopped the race instead of allowing it to go on and certainly have injuries.
Lunch was a bit delayed by the race. For one thing, we had to walk along the entire length of the marina and back just to get to it. The restaurant happened to be at about the halfway mark of the racetrack. It was now 4:00.
By the time we finished lunch and walked back to the bus stop, the rain had just about stopped and our trip back to Nice (also standing) was punctuated with bursts of sun now and then streaming across the Mediterranean as it began to lower towards the horizon.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)