Nice. Day 4.

Well, it isn't actually Nice. It's Monte Carlo. This image may not mean a lot to non-followers of Formula 1 Grand Prix motor racing, but it means the world to me. Those are my very own feet, standing on the hallowed ground of the starting line for the Monaco Grand Prix! -- and I really think the occasion deserves a few more exclamation marks ... ! ! ! ! !

You can see how wet my shoes are. Perhaps the weather could have been worse, but not by much. It rained all the time I was in Monte Carlo, but still I walked the entire race circuit, in reverse, through the famous tunnel, stopping for refreshment in the very posh Fairmont hotel right beside the crazy hairpin bend, around Casino corner, and back to the harbour and the swimming pool. Watching the race will be so much more interesting now that I'm familiar with where it all happens. I've always suspected that racing around the streets of Monte Carlo was a scary thing to do, but now I know for definite that a mad person designed the circuit. Another thing which doesn't come across on television is the fact that there's such a lot of changes of level involved.

It was a shame that the weather was so bad, but I'm delighted that I took the trip (only twenty minutes on the train), and I got there by 9.00 am and plenty of time to soak up the GP atmosphere without rush, make my way up to the Prince's Palace, and grab a bite to eat in the old town before heading back to Nice to pick up my bags from the hotel and get the bus to the airport. I was home in Dublin at 9.00 pm.