Monaco Grand Prix
Finally, I am here with a subject most awaited by our dear gentleman readers, and it also happens to be the meaning of our website’s existence! Monaco Grand Prix.
Is there a man not interested in Formula 1? There are probably some. For instance, the Turks are a nation slightly more into soccer. But Formula 1’s fans are real die-hard fans. For these guys, the Monaco Grand Prix is legendary. Last week, I was also there. Not because I’m a Formula 1 devotee of course. I was at Monaco as a chef to provide a 5-star catering service for the fans.
Let’s put matters of acing aside and let me tell you a little about the unknown side of Monaco Grand Prix. The side you don’t watch on TV.
First of all, the Grand Prix has 3 types of spectators.
One constitutes naturally of from the Formula 1 world. Not only the official Formula 1 figures and the prominent authorities of companies like Ferrari, but also company owners organizing other races and all access pass card holders belonging to the car racing world like investors previously racers.
Of course, as always I land upon on my feet with the luck of an Irish, and thanks to a friend belonging to the US Grand Prix, I kept swaying around like a queen with my all access pass hanging around my neck. Because for the whole 3 days in a car race with Monaco streets as the track – as the ones familiar to the concept know – they restrict pedestrian access virtually everywhere and you are subject to a strong hierarchy in which your status is designated by the type of your ticket. If you’re as lucky as I was, you would be able to see every color of the Grand Prix.
If we colloquially call the first category of spectators as the “racer-lot”, then the second category of spectators would totally be constituted from the “rich-lot”. Because this group is hardly interested in the race, but in VIP parties that begin at noon mainly, start getting crazy before sunset and continue until dawn.
Parties are mostly held in the marina and that’s also where I stay. There’s a reality that is called the Fairmont Hotel, which stands right in front of the famous sharp junction, therefore becoming an incontestable VIP location. The only way to have access to Nikki Beach on Fairmont’s roof is to be a hotel guest, in other words, spending tons of money for a dodgy hotel room.
Naturally, there’s the protocol; the party held in Prince Albert’s private yacht. I’d love to share with you the details of this special night where you have to pay an entrance fee despite having been already invited, and the revenues are donated to a foundation, but although the jail in Monaco is located in the most desirable place in Cote d’Azur and is a great jail with a sea view, my purpose in life is not to get arrested and rot in the jail in Monaco. That’s why I’m leaving the details to the attendees of the party.
The parties in Marina bars are open to everyone but the parties in mega-yachts like the ones we work in are definitely private! Celebrities, the essential presence of fabulous women with long legs and beautiful figures, and the crowd on the deck with their glasses of champagne… The night starting with classy cocktail appetizers accompanied with Dom Perignon ends towards morning in a haze of alcohol while munching mini hamburgers and food that we call heavy snack. And your chef, of course, is ready on foot to serve all of these all night long.
The third and last category is the tourists with their tickets around their neck. All types of tourists, Americans, Chinese or Indians hang around to see some racing, savor this crazy air or have a glimpse of the rich’s life.
The ‘coolest’ part is that whichever category you feel you belong to, the terrific sound of the race cars surround all of Monaco as soon as the race starts!
After the three-day madness, while everyone was leaving the smallest and richest country of the world with a “hangover” and the technical crew were dismantling tribunes spread all over the city like puzzle pieces, I left the port as your yacht chef and sailed to the Italian waters on a 55-meter superyacht.
The next port? Who knows…