“It costs 18 euros to enter and you will need a passport or valid verification document.”
“Ok thank you,” I replied, deciding even before the woman had finished her sentence that I would not be paying 18 euros to enter the Monte Carlo Casino.
Monaco is known for its luxury. Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Bentleys, and Rolls Royce cruise along the winding roads. People dress to the nines as if they are movie stars. Fancy restaurants and hotels line the streets.
But it’s weird being on the outside of this spectacle. I don’t have hundreds of euros to spend on a three-star Michelin dinner. I don’t have hundreds of euros to gamble at the casino. Hell, I’m not even willing to pay the 18 euros to get into the casino.
Unable to participate, I was left feeling like a spectator to a show everyone had put on for my entertainment. I wasn’t in the play, I was just watching it.
And I’m fine with that. I finished the last piece of crust from the 9 euro pizza that I bought for dinner and downed the last sip of my Coke Zero. Was I doing the Monaco experience wrong? Sure.
But who cares? I’m here.
What good is gambling at a casino, when I find myself just as content sitting on the balcony, watching the waves gently ripple in the sea?
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“It costs 18 euros to enter and you will need a passport or valid verification document.”
“Ok thank you,” I replied, deciding even before the woman had finished her sentence that I would not be paying 18 euros to enter the Monte Carlo Casino.
Monaco is known for its luxury. Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Bentleys, and Rolls Royce cruise along the winding roads. People dress to the nines as if they are movie stars. Fancy restaurants and hotels line the streets.
But it’s weird being on the outside of this spectacle. I don’t have hundreds of euros to spend on a three-star Michelin dinner. I don’t have hundreds of euros to gamble at the casino. Hell, I’m not even willing to pay the 18 euros to get into the casino.
Unable to participate, I was left feeling like a spectator to a show everyone had put on for my entertainment. I wasn’t in the play, I was just watching it.
And I’m fine with that. I finished the last piece of crust from the 9 euro pizza that I bought for dinner and downed the last sip of my Coke Zero. Was I doing the Monaco experience wrong? Sure.
But who cares? I’m here.
What good is gambling at a casino, when I find myself just as content sitting on the balcony, watching the waves gently ripple in the sea?
