1936 On the Continent

third house at Monte Carlo is either an hotel or a boarding-house, so you only have to take a walk and drop in and have a look round. And you will discover that you can easily get full board for 25 to 30 francs a day.
    So do not tell me that you could not afford a trip to Monte Carlo. The cost of living proper, as you have seen, is not higher than in London, but rather the opposite. You are not obliged to haunt the fashionable bars and other amusement places. There is so much else to do. A stroll in the tiny medieval streets of Monaco, where the reigning prince lives and which you reach by the Avenue de Monte Carlo, is worth all the bars. The Prince’s Palace is a fine piece of work. So is the cathedral, with a magnificent chapel and crypt.
“Sights”
    There is also an art gallery, containing a very fine collection of works of the old schools as well as of the newer ones. But there is one thing you must not fail to see—the exotic gardens laid out on the rocks above the picturesque quarter of the Condamine. Its vegetation will simply make you gasp, and wonder whether you are still in Europe or have suddenly been transported by some magic force to another part of our good old world. There are plants you would never dream of, plants of the most fantastic shapes, with or without leaves, sometimes in the most grotesque animal shapes, and sometimes with the sweetest and loveliest of flowers.
    Or you can climb the streets above Monte Carlo—you always have to climb at Monte Carlo, or go downhill, as the town is built entirely on cliffs. You may curse it as a rather nasty job, but on the other hand you will be rewarded by the most perfect view over the Mediterranean wherever you go.
    I mentioned the bars and restaurants. Knickerbocker and May Fair are probably the smartest, and at their gala nights you will feel at home as completely as at the Grosvenor or the Dorchester in London.
The
night of the Monte Carlo season is of course the opening night of the International Sporting Club, which is next to the Hôtel deParis and which also has a casino, but this only open for members.
    The opening of this club is the beginning of the season, the first of the many glamorous events which are to follow each other for months without interruption and which have given Monte Carlo its reputation of the most fashionable resort on the Riviera. There is, of course, the battle of flowers—any decent town on the Côte d’Azur has a battle of flowers—the folk-lore festivals at Monaco, the classification tests of the Monte Carlo motor rally, the
concours d’élégance
, the grand prix of Monaco, sailing regattas and tennis tournaments, and the golf and bridge tournaments. These events go on till the end of June.
    But that does not mean that by July or August you will find Monte Carlo as empty as a desert. If you do not like the heat you should, of course, choose another place. But on the other hand it is never too hot, and you are always sure to get the breezes in from the sea. The bathing is lovely and the beach as fine as any. If you like a game of tennis you have the courts just behind the beach. The golf links are beautifully situated on the Mont-Agel.
    You might even prefer Monte Carlo in summer. Monte Carlo in summer, compared with Monte Carlo in winter, is like a natural flower compared with an artificial flower. You go to the gala nights because everyone does, but you could as well be at the Savoy in London or the Ritz in Paris as at the Sporting Club at Monte Carlo. But in summer when the pleasure-hunting crowds have left for Deauville or Biarritz you will more easily discover the natural charm of this small town, you will see its exquisite beauty, as it really is, its gorgeous environment, its very soul.
The Natives
    You may even discover the Monegasques. In winter the Monegasque is lost among the foreigners. The waiter at your hotel is either a Frenchman or an Italian, so is your hairdresser and the croupiers. You will never find a Monegasque at the casino—for the simple reason that he is not allowed to go there. This miniature state, which makes you think of a musical film of Maurice Chevalier, looks well after its subjects, and I suppose that they are onlytoo grateful. But in summer, when you have plenty of leisure, you will discover them in the small shops in the tiny streets, either at Monaco or at Monte Carlo, behind the Boulevard du Moulin, which is still stamped with the foreign influence. They will always have a