If you’ve never been to Monaco, it’s very easy to picture it. Think Comino. Comino is, give or take, three square kilometres. Monaco is even smaller, stretching two square kilometres, on one side touching the French border and the other, the blue Mediterranean sea. Only three people live on Comino, whereas in the tinier area of Monaco there are 40,000 people, living, literally, on top of each other in luxury, cold, showroom-like flats built instead of demolished heritage buildings.
You’d think, urgh! Who on earth wants to live there? Bzzz. Wrong answer. Many people do, especially if they’re millionaires. To be more precise, 12,000 out of those 40,000 are actually millionaires. It’s the world’s biggest concentration of rich people, so if you have ‘meet a millionaire’ on your bucket list, that’s where you have to head.
Why do the affluent like this wonky piece of land so much? Is it because they like bumping into each other and flaunting their riches? Well, yes, but also because if they live there, ta-da… then they don’t have to pay income tax.
You see, Monaco, despite being microscopic, is a sovereign State. It has its own stamps, its own language (Monegasque) and its own Prince who rules as he pleases. And they have a lot of money to do so.
How come, we ask? How come our own Comino can only sustain a piggies’ farm and in smaller Monaco it rains money?
The answer is: gambling. Sometime in the early 19th century, a Monegasque was moping about saying “I’m bored”. As a child he could not even ask his parents “Are we there yet?” on car trips, because he got in the car from the driver’s side and then just hopped to the passenger side and got out to the destination. “Ufff, there’s nothing to do here, Prince, can you open a casino for us?”
By 1869, the Monte Carlo casino was raking in such an unbelievable amount of money that the principality could afford to end tax collection from its citizens. “Luuckyy!” went all the rich people of Europe. “We don’t want no income tax! Hey! Monaco, let us live there too!”
There is also another thing which boosts their economy – and that’s tourism generated by the sun, sea and Grand Prix. In May, all the streets of this miniature State become the circuit motor race for Formula One’s Monaco Grand Prix, the most prestigious car race in the world.
It’s very normal at this point to be totally bewildered. We’re talking about a piece of land the size of a peanut – how on earth do they fit in a race track? Reader, they build it, a 3.3km track, narrow and tight, from scratch every year. The circuit zigzags around all the streets of Monaco and racers drive 78 laps to cover 260 kilometres.
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Formula One champion Nelson Piquet described it as “like trying to cycle round your living room”, but because its tight corners are so demanding “a win here was worth two anywhere else”.
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It takes six weeks to build the track, and for the week of the Grand Prix no one can drive their private car – because all streets are part of the track. You cannot even have a meeting anywhere unless you’re in a soundproof bunker where the din of the racing cars is only moderately muffled.
Everyone can buy tickets for a seat on the stands to watch the Grand Prix. But there are other ways you can watch it: from the boat of your rich friend, or from the balcony of the apartment of your rich friend. Or else you cough up some nice dosh and book a five-star hotel so you a get the bird’s-eye view of the race while sipping Martini, stirred not shaken.
One such place is the Fairmont Hotel where its suites, starting at €1,550 per person per night, have a private balcony; a luncheon with champagne and fine wines; plus a concierge service for dinner and nightclub arrangements; and dedicated hospitality services, whatever those may be. Or there is the even more royal Hotel de Paris (you must look it up), which overlooks the track in Casino square, where prices for an, erm, basic suite with a view start at a whopping €2,300 per night off season.
I’m describing all this but I’ve never been; Google is my friend. But wait a minute, I know someone who can tell us first hand about it. Our very own Economy Minister Chris Cardona went on a solo official business trip to Monaco in 2015. He was there, purely coincidentally of course, from Friday, May 22 to Monday, May 25 – the exact same days of the Grand Prix that year.
Minister Cardona won’t reveal what his “work-related travel” was about, but wasn’t he just unlucky? I mean, there he was, all alone, in a suit, drinking bottled water, while everyone around him was boozing and sloshed. He was there trying to talk about the economy of Malta and Joseph Muscat, over the din of cars zooming past, and all he was getting back was “Mercedes!” and “Ferrari!”. “Muscat? You mean Hamilton?” How very frustrating it must have been.
And yet, such was Cardona’s determination to plug Malta that he persevered for four whole days – stuck in his hotel, because if he got out he would have been run over by a racing car. The temptation to peek out of the hotel balcony must have been great, but no, he was steadfast in his values: “I am here on official business. I will stay inside reading The Axe and the Throne.”
We are most grateful to him, for making such good use of the money we paid for this four-day trip of his, out of our income tax, all of €11,000.
Thank you Minister.
krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @krischetcuti