The sun never sets on a badass.

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Alright so the bloody Internet at the Mirabeau Apartments decided to pack up about and French efficiency dictates that it will take at least eight working hours to repair... which translates to about 3 days and counting. So, before I forget everything I decided to bite the bullet and head down here to Carrefour Cafe just down my street Rue Roux Alpheran. Very nice outdoor seating with one hour of free wifi as long as you buy something. So, a couple of glasses of local red wine down the hatch, here I am. So lets begin right where I left off - start of last weekend about to head to Nice and Monaco. So we had the choice of taking the bus or the train and I was really glad to have chosen the former. They both take just about the same time to get there, but the views of the Provences countryside and the coast on the way down were just amazing. The nearer we got to Nice, the coast became dominated by enormous, craggly white cliffsides with beautiful houses overlooking the crystalline Mediterranean. About 2 and a half hours later we were walking down the main streets of Nice (which is, by the way, much smaller than I expected!) hunting around for our hostel. As a side note, if ever in Nice and are on a budget, I highly recommend L Hotel Anteleres at 5 Rue Thiers. 21 euros a night for a 5 person room, 10 minute walk from the beach and right around the corner from Nices main shopping district. Its run by an extremely affable Algerian by the name of Mohammed, who liked to refer to himself as Mo le plus Beau (Mo the most handsome!). After settling in, we headed down the beach, which actually turned out to be not that enjoyable! Bloody weather went for a six and on top of that, its a rocky beach so there really was no possibility of just lying around, unless we wanted to have a nice smooth pebble lodged in our cracks. The night, however, proved far to be far more enjoyable, albeit a little expensive because of the outrageous beer prices (not less than 6 euros for a pint!!) We essentially went bar hopping and just met random people along the way - our entourage that night ranged anywhere from us 6 to 20 to just myself (when i got lost taking a piss in a side street!) Among them were two Brits who lead pretty enviable lives. Rich and Anthony, both former Londoners who moved to Monaco about 10 years ago and opened a scuba diving school. Not too shabby. I got along with Rich really well, maybe because he liked the fact that I really was the only one in our group who could actually speak French! Anthony on the other hand, irritated me a little because for some reason, he just wouldnt believe that I play cricket, probably because I was with a bunch of Americans. Kept bloody quizzing me on bowling deliveries, the Duckworth Lewis system (which the jackass claimed to know how it really worked) etc. Although more on the subject of meeting random people - it really is just part of the experience to meet someone for the first time, have an amazing time just drinking, talking etc and then at the end, you say your goodbyes and will probably never meet that person again once in your life. By some incredible tryst of paths, Ive met so many people here who I really got on with and probably would have been great friends with in another life. Its incredible the things that you tell perfect strangers, but would never dream of telling even your mother or best friend! When I think about it now, the goodbyes are a little sad but I guess thats just the downside to it. At least I leave a fuller, richer person for having exchanged a little portion of my soul for somebody elses, even if for just a few hours. But enough mushiness - to Monaco!! Bloody hell if there ever was a playground for the far too rich but not that famous, this is the place. The luxury, the lavishness, the opulence! - it all really did just put places like Dubai ( my hometown) look positively tawdry in comparison. With some skill, we managed to sneak onto a private beach that had its own little harbor. Possibly the most surreal moment of my life came when I swam over to a pontoon about 100 meters out and just sprawled out. It was then that I realized here I am, 20 years old, the cliched prime of my life (it really is) tanning on a 10 by 10 concrete oasis nestled in the middle of warm Mediterranean waters with the Monacan sun beating down relentlessly on me. I suppose now is an opportune time to thank my parents (who will read this Im sure) for having given me the opportunity to see and experience all that life has to offer. Love you both. Enough mushiness and on to the real fun part of the trip! So pretty much the entire trip, at least for Bentley and myself, was based around paying a pilgrimage like visit to the world famous Casino Monte Carlo. It was the first, and probably the last, time I will ever wear my suit while here in France but that was the least of what was required just so I could besmirch the plush interior with my plebeian feet. Of course, I also wore my sunglasses. At night. As David says: The sun never sets on a badass. There was also a 10 euro entry fee and a passport check but after that, I was granted access to the place where the real rich but not so famous come to extinguish the hole thats burning through their pockets. My game of choice is always blackjack and so I rolled up to the cheapest table I could find, which happened to have a minimum bet of 25 euros, and put down exactly that. Felt like a right idiot amidst the other bets well into the hundreds but what to do. To make a short story even shorter, Im dealt an 18 and somehow the dealer doesnt bust on 15 and instead nicely ends up with 20. God damn. Brian himself fared a little better and actually came up 25 euros up (after being 100 up and then losing it!). So with nothing but time to kill, we wandered around the place until we saw someone making his rounds about the 5 roulette tables in the main room. This guy was DEFINITELY a drug dealer or involved in some illegal activity. He never bet less than 2000 euros each time (which he pulled from a fat wad of 500 bills) and by the end, we calculated that he roughly lost about 30,000 in the space of half an hour. Absolutely shocking. The most I could muster was when we walked out eventually and found ourselves in the middle of a bunch of tourists all taking pictures of the custom luxury cars with RESERVED thank you very much parking spaces right on the steps of the Monte Carlo. Seeing as I looked the part, I thought that I would might as well, for their amusement at least, say in an extremely bored but loud voice Shouldnt have bet 10,000 on that last hand eh Brian! Ah, the little pleasures in life...

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