Monaco: Stuck in the Country of Millionaires

We took a day trip to Monaco from Cannes because let’s be realistic — in your early twenties, there was absolutely no chance we were affording a night there.

The second we pulled in by train, we could not stop looking all around. Hills covered in beautiful skyscrapers stacked above the sea, yachts floating in water so blue, winding roads carved into cliffs, luxury cars passing like it was normal. It was mesmerizing. The whole country looked expensive from every angle.

And somehow, we walked basically the length of the entire country.

That’s the funny thing about Monaco — it has the reputation of this glamorous untouchable world, yet it’s small enough that you can wander through it on foot with out much thought.

I was personally fangirling because of the Monte Carlo. Seeing the locations that they filmed the movies at in person was heartwarming for my childhood. Selena Gomez fan for life. Somewhere between the grand hotels, elegant staircases, and polished streets, I was mentally replaying scenes. Walking in the same footsteps they did to film a childhood film I hold close to my heart.

We grabbed delicious tacos — because apparently even in the land of generational wealth far away from home, I still resorted back to Mexican food — and sat on the beach eating them while skyscrapers rose just feet behind us. That contrast was so wild to me: sand and sea in front of you, towering wealth directly behind you.

We walked parts of the famous Monaco Grand Prix race track, casually strolling roads where elite drivers fly around corners at terrifying speeds. Only in Monaco can an ordinary afternoon walk double as an iconic Formula 1 circuit.

Then we stepped inside casinos, where the air itself felt expensive. You could feel the pressure of money in the room — the kind of silent heaviness that comes from people losing or winning amounts you don’t even want to imagine. Even walking through felt like observing another species.

And then came the plot twist.

We got emails saying our train home was canceled.

Cue immediate panic.

Suddenly the glamour shifted into crisis mode. We started looking at each other like… wait. Are we about to be stranded in Monaco? In the country of millionaires? With nowhere to stay? With twenty-something budgets that were not built for emergency Monaco lodging?

The thought of trying to book a last-minute room there felt like financial warfare. Our credit cards were already tired just from existing nearby.

For a little while, it was real stress. We were trying to figure out alternate trains, routes back to France, where we would sleep, how this was happening, and why travel always seems to wait until the prettiest places to become chaotic.

Luckily, we figured it out and made it back before needing to sell an organ for hotel costs.

That was Monaco to me: stunning, surreal, glamorous, and just unstable enough to keep us humble. A beautiful country to visit.
A dangerous country to get stuck in.