Dianne called Monaco and Monte Carlo "a gas." Well said. When we were in Monaco, Dianne, I remember sitting at the very best table at an outdoor cafe right next to the yacht harbor. Mike and I looked at the prices on the menu, had minor, simultaneous myocardial infarctions, recovered, then announced that everyone in the family would get one half of a "croque monsieur." The waiter was not amused when our family of four ordered two cheese sandwiches and nothing else. I even asked for "eau robinet," tap water, which came to the table in an old Cinzano bottle. We are not the chicest folk on a good day, and these dining faux pas made the waiter want to pitch us into the Med, but I called up the most perfect colloquial French I'd ever uttered, fired off some obsequious compliments about the service and surroundings and turned the waiter to putty. He left us alone.

We ate our cheese rations slowly, because the spectacle in the yacht harbor was mindblowing. Prince Rainer's royal yacht, the size of a small cruise ship, bobbed at anchor, and we watched a helicopter land on its top-deck helipad. Then, all kinds of hubbub ensued as a colossal craft made its way into the harbor's stone entrance. "Les royaux!" people whispered. This yacht was bigger than the Grimaldi family ship, and I imagined there might be some yacht-envy going on from the castle atop the hill overlooking Monte Carlo and the harbor.

An elegant man in a flowing white caftan and Arab headdress, obviously the yacht owner, came out and stood at the stern while the ship's captain turned the boat completely around and steered it into the second most prestigious berth just inside the righthand wall of the entrance. (Prince Rainer's dinghy commanded the lefthand wall.)

A beautiful dark-haired woman and several girls, all dressed in flowing robes of turquoise and cream came and stood next to the regal man. We never learned exactly which country this man was the leader of, but people in the crowd indicated he was from the Middle East. Had I been up on my flag identification skills, I would have been able to tell whether we were looking at a king, prince or sultan of Saudi Arabia, Oman, Dubai.

It was heady, one of those travel vignettes that stays with you forever. We were sharing two cheese sandwiches because we couldn't afford anything else, and we ate them while watching the magnificently ostentatious arrival of one of the world's richest families. Truly a gas!

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A reminder that I'll continue to donate book proceeds to UNICEF tsunami relief until the end of May, when this forum ends. My publisher, www.booklocker.com/books/1451.html , offers the book in both paperback or as an inexpensive e-book that you can download to your computer. Or, order from online booksellers like www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/1591134536/ . For signed copy info, visit www.LoriHein.com .