The road clings to the side of the hill, winding through the regular and spectacular undulations of the rugged Mediterranean coastline, our vehicle motoring through tunnels, emerging to sweeping views that stretch all the way to the sea. Somewhere, we crossed an invisible line—there must have been a sign alongside the street, but I didn’t see it. But soon, my guide is reeling off a list of celebrities, gesturing to this house and that one—nothing really visible, as the road passes to the rear of the sprawling homes facing the ocean—belonging to Bono, Elton John, Lewis Hamilton, and Beyoncé.
But my entrance to this glamorous principality, one of the wealthiest places on earth, is rather less salubrious. As the bus parked in a garage drilled deep into the territory’s imposing, namesake rock, I parted ways with my tour group, and set off in search of one of the city’s most famous buildings. Walking along the roadside, I found no available taxis, so instead, I opted for the city bus, hopping on near the harbor, and settling into a seat near the back. James Bond would never even consider such a move, but I’ve never been accused of being very suave. We lumbered up the hill, and moments later, I was at the door, ready for inspection at Monte Carlo’s casino.
The current head of state, Prince Albert II, is a descendant of Francesco Grimaldi, who led the group that seized the Castle of Monaco on Jan. 8, 1297. Rather than employing overwhelming force or embarking upon a lengthy military siege, Grimaldi—a Genoese known as “il Malizia,” or “the malicious”—played a rather clever trick. Aided by his cousin, Rainier I, who would become Monaco’s first sovereign, they all dressed as Franciscan friars.
Perhaps the most famous incident in the small country’s history was, of course, a tragic one. In 1956, Grace Kelly, one of Hollywood’s most renowned actresses, married Monaco’s Prince Rainier III. Retiring from acting at the age of 26, she became Princess Grace, giving birth to Caroline, Stephanie, and Albert—the current head of state. Her life, busy with royal duties as well as extensive work with charities and arts organizations, was cut short in 1982 when her car plunged down a mountainside. Daughter Stephanie was in the car with her—she survived.
As you might expect, everything here is very clean and rather well-organized—even the buses are scheduled to the minute, and arrive on time. Port Hercules is packed with super-yachts, the harbor taking the name from the Greek demigod who, according to legend, built the road that passed through here, from Spain to Italy. Looking out the window of the bus, I was a little disappointed that I didn’t spot Bono walking his dog, or Beyoncé sipping kombucha at a sidewalk café.
I disembarked near the top of the hill. Opened in 1865, the Grimaldis built the Casino de Monte-Carlo and the next-door Hôtel de Paris Monte-Carlo because they needed the money, having recently lost tax revenue from two nearby towns.
Since then, Monte Carlo has become synonymous with glamour—crews filmed two Bond films here (“GoldenEye” and “Never Say Never Again”), as well as a number of other productions (including “Ocean’s Twelve”).
You need to follow a strict set of protocols to even enter the casino. A great fan of rumpled cargo shorts and flip-flops, on this day I wore long khakis, nice shoes, and a collared shirt—determined to follow the dress code. You must also present your passport (residents of Monaco aren’t permitted entrance) and pay exactly 17 euros just to get through the door.
