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Issue # 275 December 24, 2024, Trip to Monaco, Christmas Eve Day
Journal, December 24, 2024, Trip to Monaco, Christmas Eve Day.
We are in Nice, France, at an Airbnb that Orion booked. Page has been pretty sick with a bad cold that seems to have resurfaced yesterday. She had a cold in Boulder before we left, and she appeared to be getting better, but perhaps with the travel stress of being jet-lagged, her virus has reinvigorated itself.
Orion also said he was getting sick. Phoenix was coughing a lot, too, seemingly struggling to shake off the cold that he got as the school year ended. I seem to be the only one not fighting this particular virus.
At any rate, it's 1030 a.m. on Christmas morning, and Paige and Phoenix are still sleeping. Orion's taking a shower. I think our Christmas present this year is to simply be here, for we didn't bring any presents. The act of traveling is our present to each other.
It's also possible that we are driving Orion a little crazy already, but that is to be expected, I guess.
So here is my recounting of Christmas Eve day, the 24th. We made a visit to Monaco, an idea of Orion's. It took less than half an hour from the train station.
Orion had been to Monaco before, on a trip with fellow students, so he knew what to expect. It's one of the most outwardly wealthy places on the planet. The conspicuous consumption is visible in the highly ornate architecture, the clothes people wear, and the expensive cars everywhere!
Surface perfection and outward experience, bathed in the soft Mediterranean light, seemed to sum up the general vibe.
This being the day before Christmas, the holiday decorations were extensive. In front of the Monte Carlo Casino, in the Place du Casino, stood huge transparent bubbles with dioramas inside, such as Santa in his workshop, elves making presents, and other snow scenes fundamentally at odds with the Mediterranean warmth.
A brass band wandered about, playing Christmas music. It certainly felt Christmasy! We walked into the casino to get a glimpse of the opulence, where a massive Christmas tree stood under stained glass skylights. We could see gambling machines in an inner room, but we weren't allowed in, since we had no intentions of gambling.
Outside, I noticed serious-looking men in pristine, expensive cars parked in front of the casino’s main entrance. There was nary a scratch, or even a few particles of dust, upon the gleaming metallic surfaces. The women who were there were dressed in finery; their faces were made up to perfection in a way that matched the cars, and they clutched little vinyl handbags and wore outrageous fur jackets (one in pink), posing for pictures.
In short, the display of conspicuous consumption was in itself a show for this family from Boulder. I should note that we spent a good chunk of cash to get to Europe, which in some ways was also a gamble - to travel - and to be adventurous. So here we were, alongside uber-wealthy people who also had made it their Christmas-eve day plan to come down to the casino.
All of this took place in the warm light of the Mediterranean. The low angle of the sun at this time of the year bathed the opulence in a glorious, calm light. We walked from the casino down a sloping boulevard to the waterfront where expensive yachts were docked, waiting for their secretive owners to return from the casino (or so I imagined).
The Christmas market that Orion wanted to show us stretched along the waterfront. We noticed markers showing that this particular bend in the road was part of Monaco’s Grand Prix racecourse, and came across a reminder of Monaco’s car-racing past, immortalized in a sculpture of a man with a car, a Mercedes-Benz W196, raced by Juan Manuel Fangio. (The sculpture was made by Joaquim Ros i Sabaté in 1996 and installed a commemorated in 2003 by Prince Albert II).
We climbed up a path (the Av. de la Quarantine) that faced Port Hercule, the bay of Monaco, leading to the Fisherman’s Garden, a sculpture garden full of beautiful flowers that were in bloom. This pathway, nestled on the cliffside above the ocean, led to the famous aquarium, The Musée Océanographique de Monaco, which we also visited. This museum defines another aspect of this small country, that of ocean exploration (because Monaco is, indeed, its own small country, with tax laws that benefit the wealthy).
The Oceanographic Museum is an institution, started by Prince Albert I of Monaco, and is directed by his great grandson, Albert II, who continues the legacy. We spent quite a bit of time here, enjoying the many tanks full of exotic fish, species of which I had never seen before. The kid's interest in the diversity on display was a change from the days of old when when they didn't have as much capacity to sit with exhibits, when we used to visit the Monterey Aquarium on trips to California.
At some point, we all got hungry and decided to go up to the terrace on the top of the building to eat our sandwiches, made earlier in the morning. The vistas from this location were fantastic, with the wide, calm, blue Mediterranean on one side; the hilly enclave of Monaco on the other, limestone rock crags jutting out of high ridges, enclosing this tiny capital.
This also proved to be a good moment to call Mom, and wish her a happy Christmas Eve. We had adequate internet connectivity so we made it a Face Time call. She could see us all in the Mediterranean light, and I could tell it made her happy. It was good to see how well she's doing with her new hearing aids.
We went back into the exhibits, exploring an outside area with turtles swimming around in tanks, high above the sea cliffs. Right at this moment, Phoenix got a notification from our bank that someone had been trying to use his credit card, which we dealt with later in our apartment. I guess it makes sense, to be in one of the wealthiest places on the planet, and to get a notification from a bank!
We spent some time in exhibits in the upper floors that detailed some of the early sea explorations that were the genesis of the Monaco oceanographic experiment, starting with Albert I.
By this time, Page was feeling rotten. The resurgence of her cold had now taken full effect, and I could see what an effort it was for her to simply maintain. We headed back to Monaco's Christmas market, in full swing in the port area below us, and had our usual debate about how to deal with dinner: should we get groceries now or later? We were aware that stores might be closed Christmas Eve, but with nothing nearby, decided on later, which proved to be a problem.
We ended up eating street food for dinner; Orion bought a raclette sandwich from a vendor I bought a chicken sandwich nearby, and we ate under a heated pavilion - everyone except Phoenix - who claimed he was too full from lunch.
We took the train back, but detoured past a miniature church hidden underneath an overpass. The place was crowded, and people were obviously celebrating Christmas mass, jostling for space at the entrance. I would say that it was notable how much bigger and more opulent the casino was than this diminutive little chapel, which appeared, almost as an afterthought, squeezed between buildings at the bottom of a ravine.
Once we made it back to Nice, we immediately made a bee-line for a grocery store, but indeed the stores were already closing, shutting down early for Christmas Eve. At this point, we knew we would be hard pressed to buy groceries for Christmas morning breakfast! Orion diverted us to another store, only to find it closed. We walked back to our lodging in the remaining dark, chilly, and quiet streets of Nice, accepting that the meager amount of food we had bought the day before would be our sustenance Christmas morning.
Not so quick! Once back in the apartment, Orion looked on an app he has been using called ‘Too Good to Go’, which finds food from stores that have reached their expiration date. He found a store that was open only four tenths of a mile away, so he immediately left again to get what he could. He came back about an hour later, laden with 2 bags of food: eggs, bread, pasta, oatmeal, cheese, deli meat, orange juice, and so on. Perfect! He was like an 18-year old Santa Claus, bringing back bags of food. Phoenix immediately dug into the chicken nuggets.
We woke up on Christmas morning, we had plenty of eggs and toast!
Journal, December 24, 2024, Trip to Monaco, Christmas Eve Day.
We are in Nice, France, at an Airbnb that Orion booked. Page has been pretty sick with a bad cold that seems to have resurfaced yesterday. She had a cold in Boulder before we left, and she appeared to be getting better, but perhaps with the travel stress of being jet-lagged, her virus has reinvigorated itself.
Orion also said he was getting sick. Phoenix was coughing a lot, too, seemingly struggling to shake off the cold that he got as the school year ended. I seem to be the only one not fighting this particular virus.
At any rate, it's 1030 a.m. on Christmas morning, and Paige and Phoenix are still sleeping. Orion's taking a shower. I think our Christmas present this year is to simply be here, for we didn't bring any presents. The act of traveling is our present to each other.
It's also possible that we are driving Orion a little crazy already, but that is to be expected, I guess.
So here is my recounting of Christmas Eve day, the 24th. We made a visit to Monaco, an idea of Orion's. It took less than half an hour from the train station.
Orion had been to Monaco before, on a trip with fellow students, so he knew what to expect. It's one of the most outwardly wealthy places on the planet. The conspicuous consumption is visible in the highly ornate architecture, the clothes people wear, and the expensive cars everywhere!
Surface perfection and outward experience, bathed in the soft Mediterranean light, seemed to sum up the general vibe.
This being the day before Christmas, the holiday decorations were extensive. In front of the Monte Carlo Casino, in the Place du Casino, stood huge transparent bubbles with dioramas inside, such as Santa in his workshop, elves making presents, and other snow scenes fundamentally at odds with the Mediterranean warmth.
A brass band wandered about, playing Christmas music. It certainly felt Christmasy! We walked into the casino to get a glimpse of the opulence, where a massive Christmas tree stood under stained glass skylights. We could see gambling machines in an inner room, but we weren't allowed in, since we had no intentions of gambling.
Outside, I noticed serious-looking men in pristine, expensive cars parked in front of the casino’s main entrance. There was nary a scratch, or even a few particles of dust, upon the gleaming metallic surfaces. The women who were there were dressed in finery; their faces were made up to perfection in a way that matched the cars, and they clutched little vinyl handbags and wore outrageous fur jackets (one in pink), posing for pictures.
In short, the display of conspicuous consumption was in itself a show for this family from Boulder. I should note that we spent a good chunk of cash to get to Europe, which in some ways was also a gamble - to travel - and to be adventurous. So here we were, alongside uber-wealthy people who also had made it their Christmas-eve day plan to come down to the casino.
All of this took place in the warm light of the Mediterranean. The low angle of the sun at this time of the year bathed the opulence in a glorious, calm light. We walked from the casino down a sloping boulevard to the waterfront where expensive yachts were docked, waiting for their secretive owners to return from the casino (or so I imagined).
The Christmas market that Orion wanted to show us stretched along the waterfront. We noticed markers showing that this particular bend in the road was part of Monaco’s Grand Prix racecourse, and came across a reminder of Monaco’s car-racing past, immortalized in a sculpture of a man with a car, a Mercedes-Benz W196, raced by Juan Manuel Fangio. (The sculpture was made by Joaquim Ros i Sabaté in 1996 and installed a commemorated in 2003 by Prince Albert II).
We climbed up a path (the Av. de la Quarantine) that faced Port Hercule, the bay of Monaco, leading to the Fisherman’s Garden, a sculpture garden full of beautiful flowers that were in bloom. This pathway, nestled on the cliffside above the ocean, led to the famous aquarium, The Musée Océanographique de Monaco, which we also visited. This museum defines another aspect of this small country, that of ocean exploration (because Monaco is, indeed, its own small country, with tax laws that benefit the wealthy).
The Oceanographic Museum is an institution, started by Prince Albert I of Monaco, and is directed by his great grandson, Albert II, who continues the legacy. We spent quite a bit of time here, enjoying the many tanks full of exotic fish, species of which I had never seen before. The kid's interest in the diversity on display was a change from the days of old when when they didn't have as much capacity to sit with exhibits, when we used to visit the Monterey Aquarium on trips to California.
At some point, we all got hungry and decided to go up to the terrace on the top of the building to eat our sandwiches, made earlier in the morning. The vistas from this location were fantastic, with the wide, calm, blue Mediterranean on one side; the hilly enclave of Monaco on the other, limestone rock crags jutting out of high ridges, enclosing this tiny capital.
This also proved to be a good moment to call Mom, and wish her a happy Christmas Eve. We had adequate internet connectivity so we made it a Face Time call. She could see us all in the Mediterranean light, and I could tell it made her happy. It was good to see how well she's doing with her new hearing aids.
We went back into the exhibits, exploring an outside area with turtles swimming around in tanks, high above the sea cliffs. Right at this moment, Phoenix got a notification from our bank that someone had been trying to use his credit card, which we dealt with later in our apartment. I guess it makes sense, to be in one of the wealthiest places on the planet, and to get a notification from a bank!
We spent some time in exhibits in the upper floors that detailed some of the early sea explorations that were the genesis of the Monaco oceanographic experiment, starting with Albert I.
By this time, Page was feeling rotten. The resurgence of her cold had now taken full effect, and I could see what an effort it was for her to simply maintain. We headed back to Monaco's Christmas market, in full swing in the port area below us, and had our usual debate about how to deal with dinner: should we get groceries now or later? We were aware that stores might be closed Christmas Eve, but with nothing nearby, decided on later, which proved to be a problem.
We ended up eating street food for dinner; Orion bought a raclette sandwich from a vendor I bought a chicken sandwich nearby, and we ate under a heated pavilion - everyone except Phoenix - who claimed he was too full from lunch.
We took the train back, but detoured past a miniature church hidden underneath an overpass. The place was crowded, and people were obviously celebrating Christmas mass, jostling for space at the entrance. I would say that it was notable how much bigger and more opulent the casino was than this diminutive little chapel, which appeared, almost as an afterthought, squeezed between buildings at the bottom of a ravine.
Once we made it back to Nice, we immediately made a bee-line for a grocery store, but indeed the stores were already closing, shutting down early for Christmas Eve. At this point, we knew we would be hard pressed to buy groceries for Christmas morning breakfast! Orion diverted us to another store, only to find it closed. We walked back to our lodging in the remaining dark, chilly, and quiet streets of Nice, accepting that the meager amount of food we had bought the day before would be our sustenance Christmas morning.
Not so quick! Once back in the apartment, Orion looked on an app he has been using called ‘Too Good to Go’, which finds food from stores that have reached their expiration date. He found a store that was open only four tenths of a mile away, so he immediately left again to get what he could. He came back about an hour later, laden with 2 bags of food: eggs, bread, pasta, oatmeal, cheese, deli meat, orange juice, and so on. Perfect! He was like an 18-year old Santa Claus, bringing back bags of food. Phoenix immediately dug into the chicken nuggets.
We woke up on Christmas morning, we had plenty of eggs and toast!
solo/group kukai
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen