Monte Carlo, Monaco

The sovereign Principality of Monaco lies in the hills above the Mediterranean Sea smack dab in the middle of the French Riviera. Home of the Grand Prix, Princess Grace and the legend of James Bond’s Casino Royale this tiny piece of real estate can boast the priciest in the world. In order to enter the Monte Carlo Casino you pay a cover charge and if you wish to gamble in the evening a tux or evening gown is required. In fact all the large casinos maintain dress codes. Monaco is also the most densely populated country in the world touting 42,000 per sq mile. The entire Principality is only half the size of New York City’s Central Park.
We tender in this port and the walk from the tender dock out of the marina is long and filled with yachts of all shapes, sizes, colors, origination points and price ranges. All of them expensive. Here owners have their yachts lifted from the water on a regular basis for cleaning or moving. But then if you can afford to moor here a small matter of having your boat moved is a mere pittance.
We finally get past the Monte Carlo Yacht Club and try our hand at finding our way around. It doesn’t take us long to discover we are in the shopping part of town with names like Hermes’, Prada, Ferragamo, and others, vying for our attention. I am looking for a 'treasure' not a scarf that will cost me a full year of my poor little pension. Sooo… always the mindful wife who saves my wonderful husband oodles and gobs of money I duck down a couple of little side streets and find a wonderful boutique featuring all manner of home décor. In fact so much of it, I have to keep repeating my look round, as I see different treasures with each new sweep. Bonjour!!! This is my kind of store!! It follows one of my mottos - “More is always a good thing and the more there is the better time you have finding a treasure”. It doesn’t take long to find what will make very nice mementos. The proprietress is very French “tres chic” with obviously dyed Strawberry Shortcake red hair, and tiny hot purple framed designer half glasses perched on the tip of her nose allowing her to read price tags and still converse with her clientele over the top. She switches from French to English with utmost ease. I am sure this is a courtesy since I am her only non French speaking customer. She gift wraps each of my purchases with flair, in happy red paper and a wisp of white ribbon with a bon vivant little sticker advertising the name and address of the shop. Now, won’t I feel “tres chic” when the recipients of these little treasures see Monte Carlo, Monaco on the tag?
Time to head back since this is a very short port day.  Adieu, Monaco.