I have taken a dress and a pair of high heel shoes half way around the world. They've been to Chile, Argentina and South Africa. I've lugged the extra weight in limited space that could have been used for more practical things.
I had a plan.
I was going to meet my international man of mystery and was going to meet him in Monaco.
Monaco is as freshly scrubbed as Disney World but this place is amusement for the super rich.
We took the train from Nice which is also on the French Rivera. As nice as Nice is, it can't compare with the million dollar homes and boats. It can't compare with the Rolls Royces, Jaguars and Ferraris. I mean, who can afford this place?
For a laugh, we asked about housing. A one room condo can run one million dollars. My international man of mystery better have money.
To spend time in Monaco means sitting at a waterfront bistro and gawking. When you're over your case of lockjaw, climb the hill to the palace. There is the cathedral where Grace Kelly married her Prince and where she is now buried. Off to the right are the gardens overlooking the water.
As the sun set, my friends sipped Champagne and plotted our strategy. Time was running out. The men of Monaco have been a mystery more than mysterious. Where were they? Could he be at the casino?
The casino is James Bond sauve and cool beauty. Itīs understated and ornate all in the same breath.
As I walked in, it became obvious the super rich not only live in a different zip code they live in a different time zone. There were six people inside--five of them dealers. The one "paying customer" could have been from my midwestern hometown.
I played a hand of blackjack..didn't hold on 17 and lost 200 franc before you can say "man of mystery."
He was not to be in Monaco--maybe Morocco?
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