I love boats. Completely love them. I dream of being a yachtie
and working on boats. Just wait-my time will come for that job. Anyway when I
heard from an Aussie in Rome say that the Monaco yacht show was going down next
weekend, I had to be there.
On Saturday I woke up completely flustered after a busy
night out, but knowing I needed to get to that boat show. So I dressed up in my
fancy clothes, attempted to rid myself of the sweat and beer smell of the club,
and scrub residual makeup off my face. I walked(crawled.. limped?) to the train
stop, and jumped on a bus to Monaco (bonus: it’s on a 1.50 euros and the view
is incredible!). It was a short and sweet ride, except for the painful amount
of growing nausea. That passed eventually.
As we
turned the last corner into Monaco I let out a gasp. Literally couldn’t breath.
Have you seen these kinds of boats? The people next to me gave me some intensely
harsh stares, but I was there. I was looking at the boats of the rich and famous.
I was in HEAVen. SO many yatchies so many big big boats. Woahh.
I started by walking around
the outside of the show. I dressed up for the day, and beside the slight
remnants of the last night I had just had, I thought I looked pretty damn good
and fancy, by god. But then I realized I was walking around with some of quite
possibly the richest, and classiest, people in the world, and I felt like I
walked out of a walmart aid for bad hair and bargain dress-up clothes (Fyi my
clothes were NOT cheap). Jesus christ I couldn’t compete…. but at least I was
there. My hopes of having someone meet me and invite me into the show were
drained. So I vowed to watch from afar and pretend I was enjoying the life of
the rich and famous….
But my day
in Monaco did not just consist of stalking the life I want to lead, it also
involved actually seeing Monaco. Or doing the best I could. I walked up to monte carlo and looked around.
Seeing that many nice (NICE) cars in one place was sure a slap in the face. As
if just having to be seen looking like the zombie I did wasn’t enough. Jeessh.
Monaco is not a self-confidence booster…
I also
walked the other way and climbed the stairs to the castle and old town. Again
my outfit failed on me. Here I am dressed up in what I thought was a “fancy”
and slightly tight pink skirt and I find myself trying to climb up about 200
stairs. Most definitely not a winning combination. I just couldn’t catch a
break. But I finally made it to the top to watch the most comical marching of
the guards. I think he does the 5 steps ball-change back step turn routine just
for us idiot tourists. But hey whatever floats your boat Monaco.
I took a
quick walk through the old town and randomly ended up at the choloaterie de
Monaco- what do you know? (Lies I completely
looked up and mapped where it was before leaving and took a picture of that map…
priorities) After eyeing, and probably man-handling more than necessary quite a
few chocolates, I picked out something to try. EH, not so good. I ate it on the
way out and the chocolate was just decent quality, too sweet and do debt to the
flavor.
After the
chocolate rush I realized I hasn’t eaten since breakfast (apple) so I was
hungry. I pulled out my handy dandy can of tuna. You know you’ve sunk low as a
frugal traveler when you are not only eating tuna from a can but you are doing
it with your fingers, in public, in Monaco. gotta do whatcha gotta do. Don’t
stare at me old german tourists. Let me lick my fingers in peace over here.
Unless you’re willing to buy me lunch…
After
completely proving myself unworthy of Monaco class with my eating habits, I headed
back down to the boats to try my shot at that again and I found the crew lounge. That sounded like a magical
land of fun. Freaking out I decided to hang out outside and see if I met
anyone. I tried to look sweet and passed around some smiles for about 15
minutes. But the slightly dirty American girl who probably still had tuna smell
on here did not attract many cute yachtie boys. I wonder why…
 |
| be my friend im so attractive |
After my
boat show rejection part 50 I decided to walk on. I seriously think the boating
industry was created so that they could make us idiots who can’t afford boats
look utterly useless compared to their classy and joyous lifestyle.
At this
point I remembered that one of my favorite chocolatiers in the world had a shop in Monaco and I had the address. NEW
mission. I opened my map and found the street then took off. Hazah Back to
monte carlo. I can do that. I have only walked for about 5 freaking hours today. Please let me continue.
I found the street but didn’t know exactly
where the shop would be. Let the hunt commence. I scoured the shops around me
as I walked. Where was PIERRE MARCOLINI. I walked for about 15 minutes one
direction down the street and hadn’t seen. That’s when panic started to set in.
This was my chance to redeem my day. Come on man get at me chocolate shop. I
turned around and was actually starting to
shake from fear of missing my chocolate shop. Where is it where is it
where is it. I was about the give up. Here’s
27 but where is 26- that’s the end of the block. How can the block end and
there be no chocolate here. And then a bus moved and across the street
there it was.
I
carelessly flung myself out into traffic in my haste to get.to.the.shop.now! Please avoid the insane American girl, cars.
And this is the part where my day is redeemed. Now just so you know. This is a
FANCY chocolate shop. I mean swanky. Like the Monaco yacht show of chocolate
shops Beautiful men in white gloves serving out chocolate for you. Of COURSE I’m
up for that any and every day of my life. Yes yes please. I talked to the guy
there- IN FRENCH- for about 20 minutes about chocolate and we discussed
everything. After dropping more money on gourmet chocolate than I’ve dropped on
food in the last 3 weeks combined, I said goodbye and headed out for more
adventures. Well if by more adventures I mean walking past the yacht show
again, ogling at the rich and famous, walking smack into a really hot british
yachtie (too busy looking at boats) and then finally getting on the bus back to
nice looking someone worse for the wear than I did stepped off the bus hung
over at 9am with unbrushed hair and mascara under my eyes (how is that even
possible?). I don’t think Monaco is
eager to have me back.
Well…. My
day. Success? I have clearly proven that I am rich, classy and essentially
amazing. Someone hire me to work on his or her multi-million dollar boat…please?
(ill bring the chocolate)
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