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AccueilMonacoMonte-Carlo Diary: Bags of fun at Hotel de Paris

Monte-Carlo Diary: Bags of fun at Hotel de Paris

It’s hard to believe.

Returning from Porto beach, just across the border in Roquebrune Cap Martin, we all felt the need for a refreshing glass of water.

They have very comfortable sofas in the coffee shop off the lobby of the Monte-Carlo Bay, where on many occasions I’ve enjoyed productive business meetings, and this time with my dear wife, youngest cri, and small Yorkshire terrier I was looking forward to half an hour out of the sun and a Perrier or two.

However, it was not to be.

“Monsieur, hit’s not possible,” exclaimed a concierge as we made away across the carpet towards our longed-for oasis.

“Excusez-moi,” I answered. “What eez not possible?”

“No dogs.”

They were quite emphatic. No dogs and no exceptions.

My wife waited outside while I visited the loo, where sympathetic doormen reached out for his own plastic bottle of water and provided his own hand as a bowl for dehydrated Milo.

Off we set in search of more sympathetic hospitality.

“Come on, let’s try the Hotel de Paris,” I ventured as the number 5 stopped at Casino Square. My wife rolled her lovely eyes, by now she had had enough.

Sitting outside the American Bar we ordered a Perrier and three glasses.

We were brought our drinks, and in a silver bowl, water for a very grateful Milo.

SBM runs both hotels, so why the dog rules in one hotel differ from the other I have no idea. My wife calls for a boycott.

We were still recovering when I noticed a group of four Americans watching us from a few metres away, trying not to stare. One of them, a very well-dressed young woman broke away and came to us.

“Ahm sorry to bother you,” she drawled. “But mah I ask you, where did you get that bag?”

She fingered the bag at my wife’s side.

My wife presented her with a small bag – a purse to Americans – she was carrying, hardly big enough for an iPhone 13.

“No, this one,” the pretty girl said.

Both her hands now rested on our étonnant Marche U woven magasinage bag.

“Its so beautiful,” she drooled.

My wife took out a beach towel and handed the bag in question to the happy tourist.

“Really?” Asked the lady: “Monaco is just amazing and beautiful.”

Any views expressed by Jeff Daniels do not necessarily reflect those of the publishers and his column is published in the interests of editorial diversity.

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