Traveling from London, to Amsterdam, Edinburgh, and now Monte Carlo is like going from Mars to Neptune and then onto Uranus and finally Venus. Each locale is a completely separate world with little comparison other than an ancient history spanning from Roman times to Medieval and now into the current world of political and financial turmoil. That is where the similarities stop and start; otherwise, each place has such a distinctive character you’d never mistake one for the other!
What I find most interesting is that in every other place I’ve been I feel like I blend in to some extent (though of course once someone starts talking to me it is clear I am as American as apple pie and Tiger Woods—he has been in every newspaper all over Europe), but I definitely do not belong in Monte Carlo. Money—and I mean serious money—spills over from every nook and cranny. It practically rolls in on the Mediterranean waves like a tsunami! This is tax haven heaven for the world as Monaco has no income tax or capital gains tax. That’s enticing enough to make me think ‘Paula’s Choice Monaco’ has a nice ring to it!
Money not only talks here, it walks all over the place and does so in 5-inch tall Manolo Blahniks and Jimmy Choos. All of the clothes you see on runways or in Vogue adorn these size 0, modelesque young women on the arms of incredibly wealthy men, or fathers, or, well, who knows what the relationship is. Long-legged, perfect women, in unbelievable outfits along with $20,000 Valentino handbags is a site to behold. I’m not sure whether I feel jealous or relieved; the clothes certainly weren’t made for me and the shoes would kill me as soon as I stood up! I’m not sure, but I suspect this kind of lifestyle comes with a price that involves some sort of soul-demeaning competition that can be easily toppled. For most of the women, all of this ostentatious display is almost certainly dependent on the good will of men, and we know how reliable that is!
Back in my own idyllic state, Harsha and I are in a lovely room at the Fairmont overlooking the sea (actually it’s right on the Mediterranean, with towering, rocky cliffs framing the background). Monaco is a teeny country with no borders but you absolutely know when you are here. The town is centered on the famed Le Casino which is simply magnificent: like a gaudy Versailles with a stuffy crowd. It wasn’t the swank experience I was hoping for and no one looked like Sean Connery or Cary Grant. I felt far more comfortable coming back to my hotel that has a small Vegas-style casino to gamble there. I understand a Vegas crowd, they laugh and the dealers are charming and helpful (I still lose money but at least I’m having a good time during the experience). In contrast, Le Casino seems designed to take your money and run, minus the fun in between.
Of course, we do venture outside our hotel. In fact, the ancient villages we traveled to were wonderful. Eze and St. Paul de Vence were striking examples of walled citadels built on precipices with 360-degree views of the surrounding hillside painted with adobe homes, Italian cedars, and pine trees. St. Paul de Vence was especially amazing as it is an art community that I could have spent all day wandering the spiraling stone-clad streets looking at the blown glass, oil paintings, and history poring from the steep alleyways.
For the most part, we have been relaxing. Late mornings, leisurely breakfasts overlooking the changing mood of the weather, reading the newspapers, and having long talks. Surprisingly, there is a cosmetic dermatology conference in town that I decided to attend. It was a great experience. How unexpected, and it dovetailed perfectly with my BlogTalk Radio show for this week (yes, even on vacation I am still keeping you “Beautifully Informed”).
Harsha and I are going to the tennis open here in Monaco on Saturday. The names of the players are the who’s who of the tennis world and Harsha can’t wait. He loves tennis and he has taught me to appreciate the game.
For now, that’s about it. I’m off to see what the Europeans know about anti-aging (I suspect not much; these are deeply sun-damaged faces akin to the Miami crowd). There are over 100 cosmetic companies with booths at this event, none that I have ever heard of before. Being a cosmetic cop has no end in sight but at least my downtime is filled with memorable moment after memorable moment. Viva Monaco!
