Monte Carlo on a Day Trip

For me, Monte Carlo was the night long before it was a daytime trip. In my twenties I'd come down from Milan almost every weekend, and on Friday and Saturday nights, with Claudio, the only question was whether to go for Nice or the Principality. When Monte Carlo won, the stops were almost always the same. The Karement, inside the Grimaldi Forum, with its terrace sheer above the sea: it was our favourite, and I'm sorry to say it has since closed. I could tell dozens of stories from in there — one night, for instance, we found ourselves standing next to Bono of U2. Then La Rascasse, a restaurant by day that turns into a disco-pub by night, sitting right inside the final corner of the Formula 1 circuit, the one that bears its name. And to top it off, when we wanted to push the boat out, the legendary Jimmy'z, the celebrities' club where you might find yourself dancing a couple of steps from actors, Formula 1 and MotoGP riders, footballers. I'll tell you just this: if you knew how to move, those nights cost less than you'd think.

Monte Carlo is a little over an hour from our place, and that's one of those details that makes my guests' heads spin: you wake up in Oneglia, have coffee and focaccia for breakfast, and by mid-morning you're in another country, among the yachts and the palaces of the Casino. I've been there dozens of times since I was a kid, and I'll tell you straight away what I think: it's a trip worth doing at least once, but with the right mindset. Because Monte Carlo is gorgeous and off-putting at the same time, and that contrast is exactly where its real appeal lies, in my opinion.

Port Hercule with its moored yachts and, in the background, the Rocher with Monaco-Ville

Let's start with the practical part, which is the most important. The most sensible way to get there is the train. From Imperia you take the regional train toward Ventimiglia, change there, and from Ventimiglia you board the French train direct to Monaco-Monte-Carlo: from Ventimiglia it's a little over half an hour, and tickets start at a few euros. All in, with the connection, count on about an hour and a half door to door. Watch the timetable, though: from Imperia the useful trains are just a handful a day, and the last one back leaves Monaco around nine in the evening, so check your return carefully before you set off, especially on Sundays. Monaco's station is carved into the mountain, a sort of underground cathedral, and from there escalators and lifts put you straight into town.

By car, I'll be honest: forget it, more or less. Monaco is a funnel, the roads climb and drop and the traffic is what it is. Parking costs: on the street about two and a half euros an hour with a two-hour maximum, in the underground garages the first hour is usually free and then almost three euros an hour. If you really must come by car, the smart move is the park-and-ride Parking des Salines, where a day runs around eleven euros and includes bus access. But honestly, by day the train spares you every worry. There's one exception, and it's the evening: the useful trains stop early, so if you go up to Monte Carlo for a night out the car becomes almost unavoidable. In that case head straight for one of the big underground car parks — there's a roomy one at the Grimaldi Forum — leave the car below ground and get around on foot, since the Principality is small anyway.

Once you arrive, the view everyone wants is Place du Casino. It's the square of the Monte-Carlo Casino, the one you've seen in a thousand films: the nineteenth-century facade by Charles Garnier, the same man behind the Paris Opera, the Hôtel de Paris alongside, the Café de Paris in front, and parked in the middle cars worth more than a house. You sit on the steps and watch the people. You can go inside the Casino, and here are two things to know. In the morning, until a quarter past noon, you visit it like a museum, with an audio guide, for around twenty euros. From early afternoon the actual gaming rooms open, and then the rules change: a serious dress code, no shorts, no trainers, no ripped jeans, and in the evening, in certain private rooms, jacket and tie are required for men. Above all, you need a real document on you, passport or ID card: a photo on your phone won't cut it. You're not obliged to gamble a single euro: the point is to look at the rooms, the stucco, the chandeliers.

The nineteenth-century facade of the Monte-Carlo Casino on Place du Casino, designed by Charles Garnier

On the opposite side of the city is the part I like most, the real, old Monaco: the Rocher, the spur of rock where Monaco-Ville sits. You climb up on foot or by lift, and suddenly the glitter vanishes and you find yourself in a medieval village, narrow lanes, pastel houses, no cars. Up there is the Grimaldi Palace, the prince's residence, and every day at five to twelve, on the dot, there's the changing of the guard in the square: the prince's Carabinieri, in white uniform in summer, perform their few-minute ritual. It's free, it's short, and children love it. If you've got the kids with you, get there a bit early for the front row, because the square fills up.

The Grimaldi Palace, the prince's residence, with the guard at the entrance on the square in Monaco-Ville

And here, in front of the Palace, I'm always reminded of a day trip years ago. Mino and Stefania had come to visit us from Puglia, on their honeymoon, and with my mother we'd brought them up to Monte Carlo. What a laugh: Mino, planted in front of the prince's palace, pretended to take offence because — he said — they'd come all that way "to his house" and he didn't even show up to welcome them, how rude. A proper Puglia joke, from the kind of people who, if you turn up at their door, open it, sit you at the table and never let you leave. The prince, by comparison, cuts a poor figure.

Also on the Rocher, perched over the sea, is the Oceanographic Museum. This one I really recommend, it's the thing most worth it if you have children, but it's remarkable for adults too: Prince Albert I founded it over a century ago, a great building over the water with tanks, sharks, a lagoon where you touch the rays. Admission for an adult is around twenty-two euros, less for kids, and to do it properly count on a couple of hours. One warning that applies to everything: on Grand Prix weekend the museum is closed, and half of Monaco is locked down.

And here I come to the Formula 1 chapter, the most classic trap. The Monaco Grand Prix is magnificent if you go for it on purpose, but for anyone who just wants to stroll around it's to be avoided. Historically it was at the end of May; for 2026 they've moved it to the first weekend of June, the 5th to the 7th. On those days, and already on the ones before for the build-up, the city is a construction site of grandstands and barriers, prices shoot up, the trains are packed and half of Monte Carlo is sealed off. If you want a quiet day trip, check the calendar and avoid those dates.

And while we're on sport, two things you shouldn't miss if it's your thing — and free, on top of that. First: the Grimaldi Forum, on the seafront, is the hall where for years they held the UEFA cup draws and the unveilings of the Formula 1 cars — if you follow football or motorsport, you'll recognise a few names there. Second, a stone's throw away, the Champions Promenade: a seaside walk at the Terrasses du Soleil behind the Casino, with the casts of the feet of more than a hundred and twenty of the greatest footballers ever — Maradona, Pelé, Cristiano Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Ibrahimović, and — for us Juventus fans — our own champions, from Del Piero to Zidane to Nedved. It's football's Walk of Fame, the players honoured by Monaco's Golden Foot, and you can walk it freely. For anyone travelling with a small (or grown-up) supporter, it's a stop worth its weight in gold and it costs nothing.

A word about your wallet, from an honest host. Monte Carlo is expensive, no doubt about it, but here's something few people reckon with: you can do everything here without spending a fortune, you just have to be careful. The finest things — the view of the Casino, the Rocher, the changing of the guard, the Champions Promenade — are free; it's when you sit down that the sting begins. A coffee in the square costs as much as a lunch in Oneglia, a sandwich becomes a small investment. The smart move is to bring something from home, or go up to Monaco-Ville where the lanes hide more reasonable places to eat. Recently, after six years of work, they've also reopened the Jardin Exotique, the cactus garden clinging to the rock with a view over the whole principality: if you have time left, it's a fine way to finish, away from the crowds. Then you get back on the train and in an hour you're home again, on the harbour of Oneglia, where for five euros you sit down and enjoy a drink looking out at the sea. That's part of the beauty of staying here too: you go and look at the luxury for a day, and then you come back to where life is actually lived.