MONTE CARLO

 

Monte Carlo

When you walk into the Casino at Monte Carlo, there is a golden statue to rub for good luck. There is also a swollen table minimum to walk beyond that luxury lobby point and that's why only the rich people are allowed to pass through.

“Proper attire” is required. Read: Americans better brush up on becoming dress. No, you can't wear shorts. Or flip-flops, sports shoes, logo T-shirts, and for goodness sake, leave the ballcap for the ballpark. It's not only Americans who can't dress nicely anymore, but they are the ones most discussed with disgust.

Citizens of Monaco are banned from the casino. They are banned from gambling due to moral reasons. The Princely family did not want Monegasque citizens to gamble away their money and since Monaco is an independent state, gambling laws do not have to conform to those in France.

Outside the casino, conspicuously parked, are the most expensive and gorgeous cars in the world. Cars you've never seen or heard of, cars you've dreamed of, cars you wouldn't believe exist. Exquisite examples of the coolest cars. Vintage and brand new lined in a row along the front curb. A race car from the Grand Prix always takes a spot. You're bound to hear that car roar around the sharp corner coming from behind the right side of the Casino as it ascends the hilltop where the casino is perched. Even a Rolls Royce would have a challenge to be parked out front in that row of about a dozen stunner cars. It would have to be a very special Rolls. Can you imagine a Rolls Royce as mediocre? Occasionally, a celebrity gets to park an ordinary car among the extraordinary, since the presence of fame outflanks every vehicle.

Fancy outfitted valets take all the other cars and park them out of sight or underground so the famous or fabulous out front can be seen after being heard. It's a spectacle. Just sitting on a bench in the center park square and watching the flow from the casino is a worthwhile show. And it's free.

Not much is free in Monte Carlo. The atmosphere all around the small country is crisp and expensive. Smells like money. Fancy everything. The smallest details in public spaces are spruced up in refined ways to be better, more comfortable, surprising, and luxurious. The wrought iron curly-cues on benches, the fancy chandelier streetlights, the expensive art and architecture, statues worthy of museums, and gardens so lush and lushly scented that they take your breath away. It's magical, Monte Carlo. The Principality is literally breathtaking everywhere you look, beyond exquisite approaching the harbor from the Mediterranean, but outside of the Palace and surrounding area, which overlooks the famed Jacque Cousteau observatory, it's the Casino that holds the mystique of opulence. It's the Casino that hoovers in the world's riches and supports the small country. There are no property, personal, or income taxes in Monaco.

I know about that advancing roar from a race car, because I came to the Casino in a race car one day. Lucky to be the guest of someone with money to burn, we were directed to wait while they moved a “lesser” car away and we parked third from the left out front. My mouth dropped open at the sight of Casino Square. It did look just like in the movies, but the elegance and colors and crowds of people pop more vividly in person, in a way that titillated all my senses to tilt off meter. I sat still and looked in awe while my host stepped out to throngs of admirers and a bunch formed to take pictures. Fame is funny. People want to be near it, as if by association, it makes them more noteworthy. I'd been working with a film crew, casting, we'd just finished a scene at the Monaco Grand Prix, and one of the starring actors “borrowed” this car and borrowed me, and here we were one afternoon to make a splash. The Casino counted on his cash.

I stepped out to walk out of frame from the camera hounds and after a few minutes, we finally broke free and went inside. Proof of identity is required to check citizenship and there is an entry fee, which was waved for us. The fawning stops inside the Casino, since there are many rich and famous people, mostly sequestered in private rooms or games, but still, there's a difference between public and private and the surroundings demand privacy, like most casinos. After that, it's just an ordinary, albeit opulent Casino, brilliantly hued, laden with gold, everywhere. Gold walls, gold statues, gold accents, gold, gold, gold. A treasure chest of possibility. It's quiet compared to most casinos. It's not loaded with noisy slot machines. Slots aren't for high rollers. This is Baccarat and Blackjack. This is James Bond style betting. Roulette, Poker, private games, secrets. This is “shaken, not stirred” gambling, millions of Euros moving around every minute of every day. This is Big Money.

I don't know anything about Baccarat, so I watched and learned. My escort knew what he was doing. He won. I won at Roulette, but not much, and decided to keep the chip as souvenir rather than cash it in. Clever that they emboss “Monte Carlo” on chips that are more like coins. Craps was exciting and fast, expensive and elegant. Everyone around the table, dressed to the nines. I dared one field bet and then won bigger on a hard 8 bet, but mostly watched the fast action and badinage between the more astute gamblers. I recognized two celebrities who were the most fun at the table, regaling all the others with their stories and jokes. Our table had the noise, the buzz, the loud laughter that bubbles and warms inside big wins.

I watched a famous singer across the floor win a big hand at Black Jack and she sang a tune out loud right there and to glorious applause from the floor when she finished. Then she stood up and took a big bow with a flair that only the famous and fabulous get away with. More applause and laughter echoed through the celebrated gaming house. Moments like that broke up the din of spins and clanging chips and secret hand movement signals across tables. Monte Carlo Casino, a distinctly different gaming house, a den of affluent pleasure and bonhomie.

There is a Buzz in there. A bombinating vacuum. The sights and sounds of wealth vibrate differently. It's perceptible. It may be the world's premier casino. Although there's bigger, I don't think there's prettier. Macau, San Juan, Las Vegas, even Oklahoma have bigger and opulent gaming places, but Monte Carlo comes with fantasy and history, legend and aura.

After a couple hours, we left to walk around, get a bite to eat and mill through the throngs of tourists from all over the world. We were stopped a lot. People wanted pictures and there were stares, pointing fingers, and not so hushed whispers wherever we went. My friend is quite used to this, but it's a spectacle that felt foreign to me. He would laugh and after a nice nod or two to unafraid fans, would whisk me away by the arm onward to the next place. At one point, we ducked into a darkened gambling place that serves as a spot for regular people to place bets. It looked more like a video arcade from the 1980s, but there was real gambling plus cooled air and a pause for privacy while we played around for fifteen minutes. I played Roulette and won. It felt like luck.

The hotel across the square is equally luxurious, also world famous. The food and service, impeccable and unequaled. We stopped in for an indulgent late lunch. Very French, always with astonishing extras, little touches of elegant. The shops nearby are world class. We window shopped around the sumptuous stores, then at Graff's jewelers on the corner, the world's most renowned jeweler, then went inside because I had to try on a significant natural yellow diamond and see it up close. Short the 3.7 million Euros to purchase it, I settled for a fancy ice cream cone from next door, with sprinkles. That cone cost $17. It is Monte Carlo, after all.

Just Another Lori Story