A Walk-By Wreathing in Monaco-Ville

There was a big holiday surprise for Auntie when she opened her front door on Tuesday morning.  

It was not dog poo on the side walk in front of the house.  No, that was Thursday's little surprise - today it was a pretty Christmas wreath hanging from our front door!  

I called Uncle Jim downstairs so he could have a look and together we stood around and scratched our heads wondering who'd put it there.  We found one big clue.  Nestled in amongst the little pine cones, ribbons and nuts was a card with a cheery, "Bone Feste" which is Monegasque for Happy Holidays.  Hmm.. This narrowed down the list of "wreathers" somewhat.

Prime suspects on our mystery wreathers list were Celine, who is always doing nice things for us, and our Monegasque neighbours across the street. But following some intense questioning and verifying their whereabouts on Monday night, a big light bulb went on above Uncle Jim's head.  Or maybe it was some Christmas lights. Uncle Jim remembered reading about the Christmas wreaths in our Neighbourhood Association's newsletter.  Gosh, I really should start reading those! 

As it turns out, the holiday wreath hangers were volunteers from our Neighbourhood Association or l'Association du Quartier le Rocher. Those in the know call it A.Q.L.R. for short. 

You may think that everyone living in Monaco is riding around in a fancy sports car, walking coiffed poodles with their hands and necks laden with expensive baubles, but up here on Le Rocher or "The Rock" as Monaco-Ville is known to the locals, we lead a surprisingly modest lifestyle compared to those in other parts of the Principality.  You may have noticed, dear readers, that Auntie is no glamour-puss so Monaco-Ville suits me just fine!

Everyone on Avenue Emile de Loth got one

Allow me to share a few excepts from our A.Q.L.R. newsletter and you'll see what I mean:

The Archbishop got one

"Xavier & Jacky (from the Post Office) ask that whomever sent a package to Mr. & Mrs Faustini would kindly present themselves at the post office as the sender's name is not specified and the package has been returned as undeliverable."  Dear me!

And a regular feature on page 2... "The chronicles of the 'Quat’ pattes du Rocher,'  or Four Paws on the Rock."  Here is the little dog Jade (photo of little Jade smiling) who says, "I adore my life with the Pestoni family."  Hmm.  This makes Auntie wonder if it was Jade who left the little poo present near her front door on Thursday.

There are also recipes submitted by readers, photos of bags of trash mysteriously abandoned here and there, and scooters breaking the rules by parking where they shouldn't.  Just the very sort of down to earth activities playing out in neighbourhoods all over the world.  But I digress.  Back to our wreaths... 

The next day, Auntie took an early morning walk around the neighbourhood and sure enough, wreaths were hung everywhere.  

According to the newsletter, volunteers created 230 wreaths and they found many of the components in Monaco-Ville. The gardeners who tend the lovely Jardin Saint-Martin gathered the pine cones and the acorns were collected from the main road leading up to the Rock.  After the wreaths were assembled, Father DiLeo blessed them all before they were hung.  Now that's a community effort! 

The volunteers who hung them must have had a tall ladder or a co-operative monkey helping them.  Some were up really high.

No wreath for the Palace

The Palace workroom got one

After roaming around the side streets, curiosity struck and I wondered if they had hung a wreath on the Palace door.  After all, the Prince and Princess live in the neighbourhood too.

Auntie smiled at all the guards and walked confidently up to big front doors of the Palace, camera in hand, looking like a tourist.  I got as close as I could without arousing suspicion and then...  Oh no!  There was no wreath!

Maybe the Prince forgot to pay his annual Community Association dues.

 

Everyone on rue Basse got one

The Canadian Consulate got one

Even the nuns got one

The Border Marked by Song

Meet Carlo

Did you know that the border between North and South Korea is the most heavily guarded border in the world?  Instead of a smiling faces, sniffer dogs and polite guards asking to see your passport, you're more likely to be shot at by a soldier, blown up by a landmine, or cut to shreds by miles and miles of coiled razor wire.  I imagine there's no souvenir shop either.

Well, here in the sunny south of France, it's not like that at all, thank goodness!  Thousands of people pass back and forth from France into Monaco everyday, to and fro, tra-la-la, completely unfettered, sometimes with no better reason than to get a better deal on a bag of oranges.

There are no big flashing signs, no guards, no checkpoints, nor any of the obvious things that would tell you that you were crossing from one country to another.  But guess what? Auntie is in the know and she will reveal to you the secrets behind the Monaco-France border.  So grab your camera, strap on your fanny pack and let's go!

Carlo's handwritten sheet music

Here's your first clue:  listen for the music...

Carlo's pretty accordion

The sweet sound of Carlo playing his accordion is the first thing you'll notice when you near the border.  Carlo is a bit of a fixture there these days and this morning he was squeezing out a new song, "Mickey's Warning" that he'd painstakingly copied by hand from a friend's songbook.  Funny that it was in English...

Carlo explained the facts of life for a border musician to Auntie while I tossed centimes into his open accordion case in time to his music.

"The most important thing," Carlo explained, "is to set up my stool and music stand on this side of the street."  As he said this he stopped playing and swept his arm out in front of him and pointed left and right.  "The other side of the street is in Monaco and it's strictement interdite to play music over there and the police would chase me away."

Such a pity!  We could use a little cheery music over here in Monaco.

Over here is Monaco, over there is France

Carlo sets up his one man band on the French side of the little street that divides the Principality of Monaco to the south and Beausoleil in France to the north. Strangely, each side of the street has a different name!  The Monaco side is called Boulevard de France and the French side in Beausoleil is called Boulevard du Général Leclerc.  I imagine it's a bit confusing for tourists and the UPS guy.

The magazine shop on the Monaco side has a much better selection of post cards

Both the French and Monaco sides of the street are dotted with shoe shops, a butcher, magazine shops, and a pharmacy.  Personally, Auntie prefers the magazine shop on the Monaco side because they always have cat scratch lottery tickets and a much better selection of postcards.

Not only does each side of the street have a different name, if you look down at your feet,  you'd notice that the sidewalks are different too.

Smiling faces to walk on in France

The French side is paved with smiling sunny faces and the Monaco side is paved with red brick.  From what Auntie has seen over the years, dogs favour the French side of the street when it comes to leaving poo behind.  Maybe they're inspired by the smiling faces.

Boring but clean red bricks on the Monaco side

The last thing you should know about is the secret smudge.

It's difficult to see because the street is always so full of cars but down the middle of the street is the secret border smudge. This smudge is the definitive dividing line between Monaco and France.  

"Smudge" marks the spot

Well, there you have it.  Now you know all the secret ways to tell if you are in Monaco or France.

Of course if you become lost, you can always call Auntie or listen for Carlo.

Remember to look both ways and bon voyage!