Saturday, August 25, 2007

Manky Monaco

Krusty must have been really happy when I left for Monaco to write a story for the next issue of the magazine; I had become so tense and nasty that his lip was all swollen from him biting it to stop himself from being horrible back. I was quite proud of myself though, going to Moncao for three days to write an article like a real professional... Until I realised that I had forgotten to bring any change of underwear for the trip. Of all the things to forget...

But my current knickers were enough for the first day, anyway. I got a helicopter from Nice to Monaco for the first time in my life and it would have been amazing had a old rich man not dragged me out of the front seat saying 'my knee is finished, I have to sit in the front, finished I tell you.' I still have a bruise on my arm. And he talked to the pilot all the way through the flight and touched all the buttons on the dashboard. Rude.

Monaco was quite beautiful seen from the sky, like a doll's town bitten into the rock. But on the ground, it's a real ghetto. I don't know what convinces people to live here...apart from the whole tax haven thing, obviously. It's a dump.

Not only that, but I can't believe how difficult it is to find knickers in the town where Dior/Chanel/YSL are king. I had to buy one for £30, and that was on sale at 75% off!

Like every self-respecting ghetto, there are rebels sitting onthe walls doing nothing. But instead of trainers and beer cans, the guys are in tuxedos drinking champagne out of the bottle. The ones going to the casino wear their croc shoes with no socks and white, red or even pink trousers under a white satin shirt open on a hairy chest and long, grey, greasy hair to impress the tall models on high, high heels...You can't buy class, apparently.

I myself was dressed very normally, with an Australian photographer in an Australian uniform (shorts and flip flops) and a tall, thin German with eyebrows that looked like a circumflex accent. We stood out a little from the groomed sugar daddys in their Ferraris and the policemen in their designer eyewear...but only a little: there are also a lot of very badly dressed tourists in Monaco.

Unfortunately we didn't really see any celebrities, even though Geroge Clooney, Tom Cruise, Katie Holmes and P Diddy were supposed to be there. But hey, we didn't need them to realise how much moeny was floating around. In fact the only celebrity we saw was Princess Stephanie, and she looked refreshingly normal after three days of holiday wannabes.

Here's the rest in photos, but one thing is for sure, I'll be happy never to set foot in Monaco again, even if I become super rich. There are much better places in the world to spend your money.

Thursday, August 2, 2007

Here we go again...

After a bit of a lull in activities, including one very nice, very relaxing long weekend in the Ile de Re, things are taking off again and I don't have a second to myself.

No sooner had I said, 'hmmm, I haven't got enough to do at the moment' and signed up for a painting course, than I am being sent last minute to Monte Carlo to write my second long feature for Toyota, lots of people are having parties, I am working on a great project for a fashion mag that I am really excited about, and Krusty and I are going for another long weekend to Berlin.
Then, before I know it I'll be in Shanghai with my brother.
What a life!

But then it occurs to me, if it was Krusty coming back and telling me 'by the way, tomorrow I'll be working late to finish the content proposal, Wednesday I'll be at my painting course and I'm going to Monte Carlo for three days, I would be fuuuuuuming.

Maybe I'll try to be indulgent when he gets a job and starts jetting around the world.

Or maybe not...