Monaco madness

MotorSports/Justin Hynes: Monday morning. Nice airport

MotorSports/Justin Hynes: Monday morning. Nice airport. Boarding pass (economy) in one hand, fourth cigarette of day in the other, both hands shaking, eyes like cherries in a bowl of milk. No sleep, no money and the first faint stirring of a minor heart attack brewing, that or indigestion from the past five nights of three hours sleep and credit card busting hedonism. Welcome to Monaco.

Or rather, farewell Monaco and praise the lord another annual visit is done. But countless years of early summer jaunts to the world's most glamorous race have at least resulted in one useful attribute: a knowledge of how to survive the principality's demands and depredations. Here's our tips for those brave souls who will venture forth next year:

1 On arrival in Nice, avoid taxis. At check-in turn left and head straight to the heliport. The helicopter ride to the little tax haven is not much more than the €80 taxi ride to Monaco and will get you in shape for the weekend to come. You'll feel rich and therefore will think nothing of paying fortunes for the lousy beer you're soon to drink.

2 On arrival in Monaco, head straight for the paddock. Once here begin practising your look of studied nonchalance and complete ignorance of the existence of any of the plebs on the other side of the four metre high chainlink fence that surrounds the holy of holies. Remember, you're not a rubber-necking fan - this is your birthright, you belong.

READ MORE

3 Dress code. Ayrton Senna baseball hats, Jordan team gear, national flags, baggy shorts exposing snow white shins and voluminous driver t-shirts are not the thing, darling. Team gear is for mortals. Paddock habitués wouldn't be seen dead in any of it. Instead opt for distressed denim, a crumpled dress shirt and the ubiquitous Oakley sunglasses, which never leave your face, even if it's raining and it's midnight. Ladies, the same rules apply. Current paddock fashion is 1970s rock-chic style.

4 If you have a car, make sure it's red and has a prancing horse on the front. Do not drive anything costing less than a hundred grand anywhere near Rascasse especially after dark. It's an unwritten law in Monaco that the local (rather heavy-handed) police here have carte blanche to impound and burn Mondeos caught within the two-miles of the Rascasse Bar on race weekend. There's even talk of a similar ban on Porsche 911s, so low rent have they become in Monaco.

If you do have a Ferrari 360/355/356/575 or Lamborghini Murcielago or a Bentley Arnage or anything remotely similar, make sure you are in possession of the optional extra of a 1970s rock-chic blonde so tall she has her own cloud cover.

In fact, if you are thinking of bringing a car to Monaco - don't. Traffic moves at a snail's pace and having a car in Monaco is about as much use as owning a lawnmower in Venice.

5 Drinking. Tip Top, the legendary haunt of 1960s and 1970s drivers is now so naff that only fans gather there. F1 folk drink at Stars and Bars and Rascasse (but only on Thursday). On Friday, they're swanning about on yachts, hanging out at nearby châteaux and generally being stars. If you decide to venture to Stars and Bars or Rascasse, be prepared to set fire to our credit card. With plastic cups of beer at €10 each and a round of three vodkas weighing in at a hefty €45, a weekend here can quickly cause the repossession of your house and the forfeiture of your first-born child.

If you really want to eyeball F1 folk in action, two places have become F1 star-spotting fests. Jimmyz nightclub is in pole position, where the great and the good assemble on Sunday night to let their hair down.

However, with drinks at €75 each and a bottle of vodka clocking in at around €600 it's really only for the extremely wealthy or, yes, those 1970s rock-chics. The new kid on the block is Amber Room. Run by Sonya Irvine, sister of ex-F1 racer Eddie, it was last weekend's must see venue.

6 Eating. Try to avoid it. First because you want to maintain that oh-so-studied look of wasted elegance and secondly because it can be prohibitively expensive if you choose the wrong place.

Anywhere in the flash hotels such as the Grand or the Hôtel de Paris is out. A table for four at Alain Ducasse's Louis XV at the Hôtel de Paris, can run to about €1,500. Back street pizzerias are best although the only F1 people you'll see are drunk journalists insulting each other and gossiping about non-existent affairs with motor-home girls.

7 Watching the race. If you can afford it, one of the best places to watch is the Café de Paris, where you can get a table, a buffet, a view and comfort for about €200. It's civilised and fun. If you're on a serious budget Rocher is cool. The perch on the side of the cliff above the harbour is precarious but the atmosphere is great and the view spectacular, though not of the racing cars which look like Dinkies. The best though is to become an F1 journalist. The view is great, your ticket is guaranteed and the drinks are free. The only downside is the people you have to work with. Drunk and vaguely violent most of the time.

8 Yachts. These are for rich people. You won't get on them. You can stand at the quay and rubber-neck (the people on board like that because it makes them feel even richer), but do not try to get aboard. You will probably be thrown in the brig and have awful things done to you by the crew. In fact, it's all a big fib. The monster yachts have been rented by the team's major sponsors to entertain other sponsors and more drunk journalists and you would not want to know anybody on board. Best avoided.

9 Girls. Again best avoided unless you're in possession of several Swiss bank accounts (that actually contain money), a Ferrari, a yacht, a ski chalet, some diamonds and a spare platinum card for her. Monaco GP girls are grown in capsules somewhere and are specifically designed to appeal to the filthy rich and F1 drivers. Tall, pneumatic, painfully thin and always, always blonde. They are genetically awkward as basketball players but with a keener eye for the big score. They will not talk to you, so don't bother.

However, if you do possess the attributes mentioned above, then you may be in for an interesting weekend. And don't worry if you're over 50, four feet tall, bald and with the personality of a slug, that never seems to matter.

Finally, just as we recommend arriving by helicopter, may we suggest you leave the Principality by bus to gently re-aclimatise yourself to the outside world.