We thought we might get up early and go to Monaco for breakfast. Its just a short bus ride 40 minute away to how the rich and famous look around the bay. However we didn’t even get to the bus stop, when we thought we just might have breakfast at the markets before we catch the bus, which turns out good, and bad.
Easily distracted we come across a band and dancers and start to follow them so we can watch but find La Socca first so ditch the band. La Socca is a traditional kind of snack food made with chickpea flour, olive oil, salt and water. Now we’ve found it we should really stop and try it. A plate full costs just 3 euro. Everything in the cabinet looks great and it’s now almost lunchtime so we’d probably eat anything! I chose a piece of pie that has mushrooms and spinach and la Socca, Gilbert chooses deep fried sardines and deep fried crab things. Hmmm should have known that would happen.
Turns out La Socca tastes pretty much as you would expect it to taste, kind’ve like cardboard…and all that deep fried is not such a good breakfast combo. Im proud and embarrassed to say we left a good deal behind. I’m really needing my coffee now so we head off to find one when we come across the bus stop, so decide to have coffee in Monaco.
Lots of people are wanting to get to Monaco today. We had thought it was Friday so it was a bit of a shock to find it was Saturday and that explained the extra people around. We manage to get a seat but most of the bus is standing. Across the aisle from us is two young people. Snuggled and smooching, when an older lady squeezes through the crowded bus and stops when she gets to where we are and is saying something. I thought she might’ve been asking to pass so she could get off at the next stop but she is telling the young man she needs his seat. He doesn’t look happy but she’s pretty much demanding it. After she is seated she keeps saying Merci beaucoup and pointing to her leg which she is nursing. I hear him say ‘Je comprende’. “I understand”, so she must’ve been telling him why she needed the seat. She is slightly slumped and gets out a hanky and is mopping her brow and sighing and generally looking a bit unwell. In the aisle is a group of six girls standing and I can hear they are Brits. One of the girls is watching her and I’m hoping they are nurses in case the old girl has a turn of some sort. The boy is now leaning over to confer with girlfriend from time to time and the older lady is sitting with her eyes closed for most of the time.
Suddenly the boy and girl decide to get off and I can’t believe my eyes. As soon as they have gone she puts her bag up on the seat beside her, rummages around and gets out her cell phone and has a big chat to someone happily laughing while she takes out dip and crackers and other snack food and begins a feast. Another call and she’s got what I thought was her good leg swinging comfortably over what I thought was her bad leg which is tapping in time to the music. Gilbert and I are deciding which stop to get off at and she stops for a minute, leans over to me and asks in French where do we want to go. I say Monaco town central. Après. After. She tells me with a big grin. All her old and yellow teeth beaming at me. I laugh and thank her. What a crack up I tell Gilbert who missed it all. “Au Revoir” she calls as we leave and waves as if we are buddies!
Monaco is packed to the gunnels. We have chosen not only a weekend, but the weekend of the ‘Monaco Yacht Show’. There’s music and marqués and security, “I’m sorry you can’t go in there Madam” damn! We watch for a while with our iced coffees on the sidewalk and I say to Gilbert. “Well what if we did have a little yacht and we parked it up and now we can’t get to it. That can’t be right. There’s gotta be a way in”, and so there is….
We eavesdrop on conversations as we pass, well those we can understand of course as there’s a number of languages going on…
“so why spend seven million on a yacht like that when you can get almost the same for two million….mmmmm”
“You go on down babe and we’ll meet back here in a couple of hours….”
“…and I was driving, see, and I says to him…”
“Daddy would have loved it!”
Now we’re past the rif raf who are choosing what colours to have their outdoor furniture we head on down to the marina and the super yachts we saw in Cavtat are a quarter of the size of some of these babies. I had to laugh at Gilbert, at one time as he was walking along with his mouth open and, so were many other tourists. It’s so outt’ve this world.
Lots of newer buildings in Monaco in the background. Lots of tall slim and beautiful Ken and Barbies wandering around. Most wearing the ID neck thing that gets them to the caviar and champagne. It’s another world indeed. “Come on, I say to Gilbert. Let’s head to the beach”.
So we wander around a bit more before we figure where to catch the return bus. We meet an older couple whom we offer a space to sit while waiting. From UK but she was born in France, so speaks fluently tho she’s lived in UK forty years now and said she doesn’t really feel French anymore. They are holidaying here two weeks, but they are finding the pace a bit fast. We manage to get a seat together on the bus and she chats about teaching and how glad she was to retire. How hard it got in the last years and how they holiday two weeks every year somewhere 2-3 hours away from UK. That’s such a long flight she tells me. I smile and tell her the first leg of 13 odd hours from NZ nearly killed me but the second of 9 odd was OK. She’s horrified.
We bid them safe travels and leave the bus halfway home to stop and swim and this beach is better as the pebbles are small and so much easier to walk on. We swim and sunbathe and doze in the sun until after six.
These two little cuties have never met before. The little girl just came right up and sat down and watched the boy for a bit and then just started to talk. Preschool French. Pretty cute watching and listening. We walk up a cliff face then to get back on the return bus route. Not funny! And we are now supposed to find Ma Nolan’s Irish Bar to have drinks and watch a hurling game with Joan and Ger. We’ve left it too late. We have no idea where this blimmin bar is and we walk for ages looking for it. By the time we do find it, the place is packed and there’s a queue to get in. We can see the big screen and the games over so I’ll have to email and let them know we did come. We just couldn’t get in. So it’s off to find something for dinner. Hmmmm
Somehow I can’t bring myself to go up the alley and check out Dehli Behli. Something in the name that’s not so attractive somehow. Sorry guys it’s probably not the right marketing strategy!