Buoyed with the knowledge that our plan for today had thus far functioned like a well oiled house-brick, we touch down again back in Nice with youthful optimism.
Unable to find a bus that goes to Monaco we gleefully skip along the road hand-in-hand to the.............TRAIN STATION!
You and we were not disappointed by this folly.
We have already noticed that any form of dispensing machine in France is programmed with a perverse sense of humour; couple that with a ticket dispensing machine with no English translation available, and tension levels rise a notch or two. Oh and add to that the erratic choice as to what type of credit card is acceptable to said machine, and you have an experience burned into the memory banks forever.
Did we mention the gremlin who operates the 'departures board'? This troll like being, sends you to a platform then changes the departure point without notification resulting in us scurrying up and down stairs from platform to platform. One up to the machines playing pin-ball the humans.
You may have deduced from this erratic behaviour that we did indeed succeed in obtaining a ticket; entirely due to Denise's sleuthing and quick thinking.
7pm: Monaco here we come!
The share opulence of Monte Carlo, the magnificent yachts, spanking new european cars, some chauffeur driven, men immaculately dressed and women dripping with jewellery. We fitted in very well. At least I wore a skirt.
We strolled for a while, picked up a souvenir for Caesar (our kiwi mascot) and headed back for Nice before we escaped the notice of the Prince