So, why am I here, exactly?
Well, it became my goal to visit more countries than I had birthdays, and I finally caught up in 2007. Ros, having done the arithmetic, worked out that, as my combined birthday and Christmas present, she could give me country number 50 - Monaco, the second smallest country in the world.
It is, undoubtedly, an unusual place. Covering less than a square mile (according to the guidebook), it is served by the five routes operated by the national bus company, covered by buildings seemingly stacked on top of each other, and is, of course, the unlikely venue for a Formula 1 Grand Prix.
I can now claim to have stood on the track at La Rascasse, driven through the Tunnel du Loews and climbed up towards Casino. Oh yes, in a public bus certainly, but I have done it. Given that I can't drive, it was certainly nice to leave the work to somebody else.
Monaco is an absurd country. Were it not for the entrepreneurial spirit of its Prince in the 19th century, it would be an irrelevancy, poor and purposeless. However, by becoming a place where the rich gather to flaunt their wealth at each other, it has found its niche. Every designer label worth having, yacht brokers, luxury car dealers (just how can one drive a Bentley in such narrow, twisting streets?) and, of course, the casinos.
I don't have any objection to wealth. Indeed, I quite fancy being rich myself some day, and if the opportunity arose, I wouldn't say no. However, Monaco is undoubtedly a prime example of how you can squander your good fortune. Ros and I are both of the view that, if we were wealthy enough to be able to afford to live in Monaco, we wouldn't. Even the tax breaks aren't sufficiently enticing to make up for the claustrophobic lifestyle, the intrusive policing, both uniformed and via CCTV, and the sheer expense.
I've enjoyed my daytrip to Monaco tremendously, but it won't make the list of countries I've been to and thought, "I could live here", because I couldn't.
No comments:
Post a Comment