Monte Carlo, Monaco

I was speaking of our cruise along the Amalfi coast on Seabourn. Seabourn is more a yacht than a cruise ship. It carries no more than 210 passengers and half as many crew members. Getting to the ship is a general nuisance because of security regulations at the airports. I suppose getting anywhere one is vacationing is a general pain in the butt. But we arrived at Nice, were driven to Monte Carlo, and arrived at the ship early.

It was too early to board so they had a little blue and white tent outside with Swedish meatballs and hor’dourves. They also handed us an envelop with two complimentary lunch tickets for an outdoor restaurant along the waterfront and since it was within walking distance, we decided to give it a try. Suffice it to say the food was excellent and the menu even better, although we were limited in our choices. Getting ahead of myself again.

What was remarkable was that before lunch we strolled into the lower end of town (everything is uphill so you don’t walk a lot) window shopping in the various kinds of stores which ranged from furriers to souvenir shops. What beat all in this town of the rich and lavish is that toward the end of the strip, they had a supermarket (yes, in Monte Carlo) and it was the best damn stocked market I have ever seen.

They had everything from wines to cosmetics to baskets, vegetables, I mean, row after row of goods, priced at supermarket prices (well, almost since everything was in Euros). I could not believe I found some sophisticated medications for my teeth which are like the stars in that they come out at night. They also come out during the day which is why I needed the adhesive if I wanted to eat that complimentary lunch.

We approached the register, me with a pocket full of Euros, and the girl rang up the sale and said something in French which I didn’t understand. Virginia was trying to communicate with her high school French and doing a passable job when I just took out a handful of money. The girl shook her head “No.” Now, “no” is an international word that can be used in any nation in the world. So I took out more money and laid it on the counter.

She wrote down the amount on a piece of paper (but would not write her phone number) and I paid the correct amount feeling very French indeed. Voila! The people behind us all clapped and cheered with affable smiles on their faces. No, they were not impatient and they didn’t seem angry because we had taken so long. In fact, they all seemed rather amused.

I looked for a telephone booth so I could change like Superman used to do, only to discover that there are no old telephone booths even in Monte Carlo. The next best thing was an indoor ATM machine. And, of course, who should come in while I was applying the adhesive to my teeth and trying to be very secretive about it but a local gendarme. He needed to use the ATM machine.

I backed off into a corner. Virginia shielded me from sight. The gendarme looked at me. I raised my eyes to God. He raised his eyes to my project and smiled, turned and used the machine while I completed the necessary work that would permit me to have lunch. They seem to have a laissez faire attitude in Monte Carlo as long as you do not violate the law. But there are plenty of police within the province and they mean to keep things clean and peaceful.

We dined at the outdoor café, managing between French, Italian, Spanish and English to make ourselves understood. When that didn’t work, we used sign language which just about everybody understands. Two other couples from Seaborn joined us toward the end of our meal, one a bearded British gentleman who could have been a sea faring captain by the look of him, but who was really at employee at Cambridge university in England. We saw him several times on the ship but merely nodded a greeting and went on.

I do not wish to disparage any nation of people when I say this because it is merely an observation, but the Europeans are more staid and conservative than Americans. They do not greet you openly or make friends immediately, at least, not most of them. Those that speak only a foreign language tend to stick to their own. Example.

I saw a young blond woman with an older man. She looked very familiar. In fact, I thought I had seen her on television somewhere and so I walked over and asked if she had been on a prior cruise or did she do a television show. All this was innocent enough since her husband was sitting right beside her. She managed to indicate that she did not speak English and pointed to her husband. I explained what I was asking and he merely smiled and shook his head. Although I saw them several times thereafter they never showed a single bit of grace. I often got the impression the woman avoided my gaze so she wouldn’t have to smile.

Even when we turned out to be the only three people in the dining room while a twelve- foot wave storm was raging outside, did they ever show a glimmer of friendliness. But the upshot was that when we had an outdoor banquet with all the trimmings, I heard them both speaking English to another couple. I found this particularly true of the Dutch, Swedish, and Danish. They tended to be clannish and not at all outgoing. The Brits, on the other hand, got along with everyone. I also found the German people to be extremely cordial and friendly very polite and not the least bit discourteous. And a lovely French woman asked me to dance the line dance, but I declined because of back problems.

More about the trip in our next blog.

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