TRAVEL STORIES · ADVENTURES & MISADVENTURES
A Backpacker Rendezvous in Monte Carlo
I always say you can smell the money in Monaco. Finding two young backpackers negotiating their way through it was considerably more interesting than watching the people who had plenty.
One loved the place. One loathed it. Neither, as it turned out, was quite the person I first imagined.
By Rob Wheatley – Program Director & traveler
Originally published 13 May 2017
A backpacker rendezvous in Monte Carlo began with a divided verdict on the place and a shared lunch. Jen loved the glamour; Ian resented it. Over an unexpected afternoon of fish, photographs and yacht-deck beers, I discovered how much a first impression can leave out—and why the people often outlast the scenery.
From the archives: this is a recollection of that encounter, rather than a current Monaco budget guide.
Two opinions, ten seconds
“I love Monte Carlo!”
“I hate Monte Carlo.”
Ten seconds into meeting Jen and Ian, I had established that they shared a backpacking itinerary, but apparently not a destination.
“You hate Monte Carlo?” I asked Ian as he reached for his camera bag.
“Yeah. F****g loathe it! Rich assholes with nothing better to do than drive around the block in their Lambos and Ferraris. Bunch of posers.”
“It’s beautiful!” Jen interjected. “Don’t mind him. He couldn’t find a Starbucks this morning.”
She gave me a wink, doing her best to take the corners off his remark. “I love it! Stylish, famous and very… Grace… uh…”
“Grace Kelly,” I prompted.
“Yeah. She was so beautiful.”
Jen saw glamour. Ian saw people making rather too much noise about their bank balances. I was beginning to suspect that lunch would be more interesting than the cars.
Pizza, photography and a suspicious burger
We met at a pizzeria called Le Bambi, near the harbour. It was about the cheapest place I could find, which in Monaco is a relative achievement.
Both were in their mid-twenties. Jen, from California, was all brunette curls, curiosity and mischievous laughter. Ian was tall and thin, with glasses, unruly ginger hair and an AC/DC T-shirt. He appeared to be studying the world while Jen was busy introducing herself to it.
Their cameras told much the same story.
Ian took photographs seriously: light, shade, composition, shutter speed. A quick selfie seemed unlikely to survive his artistic approval process. Jen, meanwhile, had an iPhone and no such reservations. Within five minutes I was her Facebook friend and part of a group photograph, with Ian’s face drifting disinterestedly towards the edge.
I had ordered a burger in an Italian pizzeria. This was my first questionable decision of the day.
It arrived without the fries I had ordered, under a sesame-seed bun, with cheese of a colour that did little to inspire confidence. Just as I was considering my options, Jen asked if she could try it.
“OK,” I said. My generosity was helped considerably by the prospect of having an official taster.
She approved. I followed. To my surprise, it was good.
They offered me some pizza in return. I declined; watching Jen search her purse for enough euros had already suggested that their lunch budget did not need my assistance.
Planning beyond this visit? Then use my Monaco travel guide to choose your next stops and build a journey that fits your time.
The casino, the credit card and Casandra
The missing Starbucks was only part of Ian’s grievance. They had also been turned away from the casino. Their jeans-and-T-shirts approach had not got them through the door that day, and he had wanted to see inside.
“The entrance fee would have blown your budget anyway,” I offered.
Ian cracked a knowing smile. Progress.
Once we started talking about travelling cheaply, he became more animated. He took pride in making their money last. Jen seemed rather more tempted by the Gucci bags and the prospect of driving a Ferrari around Monte Carlo.
I thought her father should be pleased she was travelling with someone who watched the budget.
There was, however, a small administrative complication.
As far as her parents knew, Ian was her girlfriend Casandra.
They had met the actual Ian and had not been enthusiastic. When he stepped outside to set up a photograph, Jen filled me in. It is amazing what people will tell you if you simply listen and nod.
After four weeks travelling from Amsterdam through France, the couple had agreed to cancel their planned German leg and go their separate ways.
The journey had clarified something neither could quite ignore. They could share a pizza, but they no longer wanted the same future.
Travel has a habit of bringing these things into focus. There is only so much room in an itinerary for pretending.
Fish in motion, then a yacht
We ended up spending much of the day together. I knew Monaco reasonably well, so I showed them around. The views and people-watching gave us plenty to enjoy without joining the spending competition.
I also suggested the Oceanographic Museum. From outside, its grand building looked to me more like somewhere to admire art than somewhere to look at fish.
Ian pointed out that fish in motion were art.
Fair enough.
I bought the admission tickets as a treat. He was keen, Jen was excited, and watching their enthusiasm made it worthwhile. The aquarium’s colour and movement had given our photographer rather more to work with than another passing Ferrari.
Later that afternoon, a South African friend called. He was a marine captain working on a corporate yacht for a Dubai company, and he had arrived in port earlier than expected.
We had planned to meet the following day. Instead, I suggested bringing my new companions down for a visit.
So our budget-conscious lunch led, rather unexpectedly, to a look around a yacht, followed by snacks and a few beers on the aft deck.
Jen was impressed. Ian was less demonstrative.
My friend explained the work behind the polished surroundings: maintenance, a small crew, and waiting for instructions about the next trip. The owners used the vessel infrequently, but keeping it ready was a job in itself.
Even Monaco’s glamour requires someone to turn up for work.
Illustrative image from the original article; not identified as the yacht we visited.
The photograph that changed my mind
As the afternoon went on, I began to see what my first impression had missed.
Jen kept including Ian in the conversation. He, in turn, looked out for her. Their romance might have been ending, but there was still friendship and care between them.
I had initially noticed his cynicism and her sparkle, then rather lazily decided I understood the arrangement. I didn’t.
Looking through the photographs he showed me helped. They were thoughtful, beautifully composed images. Behind the distracted manner was someone paying close attention.
Then I saw a black-and-white photograph of Jen looking through a hostel window.
There was wonder in her expression, with a faint melancholy. Yet what struck me most was the tenderness of the person taking the picture.
I cannot tell you exactly how a photograph conveys that. This one did.
I wished her parents could have seen the way he looked after her. They might have revised their opinion.
I had certainly revised mine.
What I brought away from Monte Carlo
By the time I first wrote this story in 2017, Ian was in London and had met an Irish girl. Jen was back in California, thinking about China as her next adventure.
They had continued in different directions, just as they had planned.
What stayed with me was that photograph. Also the reminder that the person who seems difficult over lunch may have rather more to him than you have bothered to notice.
I went to Monte Carlo knowing what it looked like. Jen and Ian gave me something else to see.
The cars, the casino and the yachts made a splendid backdrop. But the encounter was what made the day worth writing about.
Leave a little room in your travels for a conversation that goes nowhere you expected. Mine began with two opposing opinions and a burger I was reluctant to eat.
I’m glad I stayed for lunch.
Keep wandering
For more reflections on what travel gives us, read Why Do We Travel? For a different way to notice the people and places around you, try Mindful Travel.
Planning your own visit? Use Monaco’s official tourism website and the Oceanographic Museum’s official website for current visitor information.
Who surprised you along the way?
Have you ever met someone on your travels who completely overturned your first impression? I’d love to hear where you met—and what changed your mind. Share your story in the comments below.
One Response
Great story-telling. I have been backpack traveling since 2010 and I haven’t bought a single souvenir, only photos! A camera is a must have for me 🙂