‘Everyone is rich, nobody cares': My weekend with Monaco's jet set
There is Monaco, and then there is Monaco.
Many of us have visited the former, sitting at wrought-iron tables on café terraces, strolling along the promenade, visiting the parts of the magnificent palace which are open to the public.
But while we are visiting the MAMAC museum and taking photos on Casino Square, a wholly separate Monaco is going on behind closed doors – on private rooftops, on balconies carefully shrouded from prying eyes by delicately manicured foliage, in clubs identifiable only by discreet plaques, and tucked away in the deepest recesses of Monte Carlo's hotels and casinos.
It is a world in which most of us are unlikely ever to find ourselves. Yes, it is a club into which you can buy (or marry) your way, as many have. But money will only take you so far: its eccentric upper reaches are reserved for a select few – a pack with if not necessarily blue, then at least purple, blood. And like the Four Hundred of erstwhile New York, this club is, for the most part, a closed shop.
On previous visits to Monaco, I had once or twice glimpsed this veiled world: the neatly preserved, white-haired women in tasteful tailored garb, watching haughtily from the top deck of the yacht club; aristocratically jawed gentlemen and shipping magnates smoking cigars on the balcony at the very back of the Casino de Monte Carlo.
I was fascinated by it, longing for a closer look – and reasoned there could be few better opportunities than during the Monaco Grand Prix, 'the jewel in Formula 1's crown' and – alongside the likes of the Yacht Show, the Tennis Masters and the lavish Bal de la Rose – a stalwart of the Principality's glittering social season. If I was going to experience Monaco's essence at its most distilled – to rub shoulders with incognito minor royals and 12th generation patricians – this was surely the place to do it.
My temporary access to this exclusive, elusive world came courtesy of British firm Go Privilege, one of a new and unusual breed of high-end concierge outfits which specialise in the sort of VIP gatherings I was keen to observe. They set me up with two of their Monaco packages – Friday aboard a trackside yacht (£1,000), and Sunday watching the Grand Prix itself from the terrace of Hotel Metropole's Yoshi, Monte Carlo's only Michelin-star Japanese restaurant (£3,495). It all felt too easy, as though someone had given me the secret password for some hidden back door.
I packed every outfit I owned that could be reasonably passed off as quiet luxury, and arrived in Monte Carlo as the F1 practice sessions were kicking off. I was immediately whisked to my first Go Privilege engagement: a swish all-day party aboard 37-metre superyacht Sea Bluez, moored feet from the track in Port Hercule, one of a neat row of similarly lavish tri-deck crafts.
A top-end tender zipped us across the port to its bow, weaving between other floating megaliths – on the right, Bernard Arnault's Symphony, with its helipad; on the left, Sir Philip Green's huge, sinuous Lionheart. Behind them, Monte Carlo's bizarrely beautiful patchwork of Belle Époque piles and incongruous high rises climbed towards the steep foothills of Mont Agel, its twisting streets and alleys crammed with people.
On board the yacht, champagne flowed, and glamorous people in dark glasses and delicately branded sportswear drifted between the aft deck and a table in the salon laid with chichi snacks. In the lulls between races, some retired to the sundeck, applying a sunscreen which doesn't officially exist yet from glass vials which waited on each table, as a DJ played waves of gently pulsing ambient mood music.
A woman in a candy-striped Gucci shirt hinted that there was at least one young aristocrat aboard the yacht moored beside us (a young Habsburg enjoying the fruits of their dynasty, perhaps?), and on the other side, two impeccably dressed men – one holding a tiny dog, the other wearing an Hermes cravat – watched inscrutably from a dining table on their promenade deck as Charles Leclerc's Ferrari buzzed by, 10 feet away.
Opposite, in the tiered plastic chairs of the viewing terraces, gently perspiring in racing caps and Brioni polos, sat the sort of spectators for whom a €2,000 day's ticket – almost twice the cost of my place on the yacht – had been an inconsequential expense. In any other context, they'd have been the VIPs – but here, they were the poor relation; literally on the wrong side of the track. It was aboard the yachts around us that the magnates and countesses lurked, nonchalantly sipping champagne against a backdrop of gleaming white boats and dark shimmering water.
'Important people have always come to Monte Carlo,' a distinguished elderly Frenchman told me, when we got chatting near the ceviche platter. 'For some it's about being seen, but for the really important ones, it's about not being seen. Here, everyone is rich – nobody cares. If you walk down the street, nobody bothers you.'
And then it was Sunday – race day – and I was meandering down the stately sunlit driveway of the Hotel Metropole, where a handful of cars had been given special permission to park. Some were merely expensive – but many others were custom made (the entirely baby pink Lamborghini Urus, for example), or officially non-existent (a brand shared by some of the cars on the track, for instance, but which is not currently known to produce SUVs).
All was calm and quiet, a world away from the maelstrom of surging bodies and hi-viz attired marshalls penned in by narrow streets and metal barriers. Inside Yoshi, the hotel's Japanese restaurant, another clutch of effortlessly glamorous people milled around, picking at finger food (nigiri, takoyaki, lobster rolls, choux buns), still sipping champagne, and intermittently strolling out onto the terrace.
I followed them, tottering up to the thick baroque balustrade. This, I'd been told, was one of Monaco's finest Grand Prix vantage points – but nothing could have prepared me for the reality of it. Barely five metres below was the track, stretching all the way to Casino Square corner on my right, and down into Mirabeau Haute, one of the circuit's most technically challenging bends (evidenced by its escape lane), to my left. As I gawped, the drivers' parade appeared on the crest of the hill; an open float carrying F1's golden boys, almost close enough to shake our hands.
While we waited for the main event, I chatted to evenly tanned people – including a woman in white linen whose cheekbones could only have been the result of carefully considered breeding – who introduced themselves with enigmatic ambiguity: 'I'm an entrepreneur'. 'I have a little business'.
I had expected there to be a great rush back to the balustrade when the Grand Prix itself began, but when the low-slung cars started to roar by – the smell of burnt rubber wafting up with every pass – I was surprised to note little change in tempo. People ambled out, watched a few laps, pointed to the car of Verstappen or Norris, then returned to the lacquered tables inside, which were now being laid with dessert.
'Don't you want to see?' I asked a stately 60-something gent – with slicked-back hair and an expression that suggested inherent satisfaction – as he disinterestedly sipped a tot of scotch.
'They go round; someone wins, someone loses. I've seen it before,' he replied, shrugging. 'Everyone here has seen it before.' He smiled and raised his glass. 'And now, so have you.'
I replayed his words in my mind later that night – as I ordered a sad sandwich at a countertop bar in Nice Airport and waited in vain for someone to top up my glass of warm wine. And it dawned on me: earlier that day, I had been the one on a private balcony, carefully shrouded from prying eyes by delicately manicured foliage. I had not just managed a closer look at the world of Monaco's elite – I had, briefly, been living in it.
It turns out that, if you know the password, getting through the hidden back door is the easy bit. The hard part – I realised, as a stale baguette arrived in front of me – is leaving it.
Gemma Knight-Gilani was a guest of Go Privilege, whose Monaco Grand Prix 2026 packages start at £895 per person per day (Yoshi terrace at Hotel Metropole) and £1,000 per person per day (superyacht viewing), including all food, drinks and VIP passes.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
North Wales Live
16 minutes ago
- North Wales Live
Turkey travel warning issued as Foreign Office updates advice - What you need to know
The Foreign, Commonwealth, and Development Office (FCDO) has recently updated its travel advice for Turkey, a popular Mediterranean destination for UK holidaymakers that welcomed over four million Brits in 2024. The FCDO, which provides essential information to British tourists, has issued an alert for those planning to visit Turkey. The update, made on Friday, June 20, states: "If you are a British national wanting to cross the land border from Iran into Turkey, you will need to request facilitation from the British Embassy in Ankara by contacting the FCDO before travelling to the border, indicating whether you are contacting from Iran or from the UK on behalf of a relative. "You will need to provide personal details (name, date of birth, details of travel document used to enter Turkey). This is required by the Turkish authorities. "The usual entry requirements will apply, including that British nationals can enter without a visa for up to 90 days in any 180-day period. If you intend to leave Iran overland, you do so at your own risk. "In Iran, holding a British passport or having perceived connections to the UK can be reason enough for the Iranian authorities to detain you", reports the Express. It comes as a result of the ongoing conflict between Iran and Israel, with Iran issuing a warning to the UK, France and the US if the countries get involved. The US has now attacked nuclear sites in Iran. The Foreign Office also advises against all travel to some parts of Turkey. It states that Brits should not travel within 10km of the border with Syria "due to fighting and an heightened risk of terrorism". It added: "In Hakkari province [south east Turkey], you must get permission from the local Governor's Office to visit areas near the border with Iraq and Iran. If visiting with a travel agent or tour group, confirm with them whether you need an individual permit. Keep up to date with local media and follow the advice of the local authorities." Mount Ararat, which is a special military zone in Agri Province, requires permission from the Dogubayazit Government office and a fee being paid. Brits travelling with a travel agent or tour group are urged to confirm with them whether an individual permit is required. It is vital that "extra care" is taken if travelling to the area, as well as remaining updated by the local media and following the advice from local authorities.
Daily Mail
28 minutes ago
- Daily Mail
Beyonce smokes a cigarette onstage during final stadium concert in Paris
Beyonce surprised her fans when she started smoking a cigarette during her Cowboy Carter concert tour stop in Paris, France over the weekend. On Sunday, the superstar pulled out a cigarette mid-performance and started pretending to puff on the prop during her show. As seen in fan-taken footage at previous shows, she would take 'smoking hot' literally and go onstage to theatrically light a piano on fire. The Texas Hold 'Em hitmaker performed the final one out of three shows in Paris and even brought out her husband Jay-Z for a surprise performance. For the first time in seven years, the rapper joined her onstage to close out the show for a surprise Crazy In Love duet. The singer-songwriter made her concert in the City of Lights a family affair as she also performed with her eldest daughter Blue Ivy like she had done for her preceding shows. Beyonce's mom Tina Knowles was also reportedly in attendance alongside eight-year-old daughter Rumi Carter but her twin brother Sir Carter did not make an appearance. With a stadium full of her cheering fans, Beyonce took to the stage in a glamorous outfit with a fur vest with an incredibly long train trailing behind her as she strutted around onstage. She wore a sparkly, silver bustier paired with high-waisted, cheeky microshorts and over-the-knee cowboy boots. The final Cowboy Carter concert in Paris comes shortly after it was revealed that Beyonce and Jay-Z's eldest child Blue Ivy is interested in releasing songs of her own. An insider told the Daily Mail this week that the teenager is saddling up to follow in her parents' shoes and 'is considering starting her own career in music.' The source continued, 'Some of Beyoncé's favorite writers are quietly penning demos for her in anticipation of a solo album.' With no shortage of industry bigwigs to lean on, the youngster has reportedly sought help from her famous aunt Solange Knowles and already has tracks lined up from The-Dream, should she want them. The American songwriter and producer has long worked with Beyoncé, co-writing songs including Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It) and Break My Soul from her Grammy-winning Renaissance album. With a stadium full of her cheering fans, Beyonce took to the stage in a glamorous outfit with a fur vest with an incredibly long train trailing behind her as she strutted around onstage The final Cowboy Carter concert in Paris comes shortly after it was revealed that Beyonce and Jay-Z's eldest child Blue Ivy is interested in releasing songs of her own. An insider told the Daily Mail this week that the teenager is saddling up to follow in her parents' shoes and 'is considering starting her own career in music'; pictured December 2024 in Hollywood He also worked with Jay-Z on his 2013 track No Church in the Wild. 'Blue is also writing material with help from Solange,' our source continued. 'The-Dream has been spearheading it, and he has two or three records for her,' the insider continued. 'They know the fans want to hear a Blue record.' They added: 'She is only allowed to listen to age-appropriate songs from artists and has been listening to Infinity Song, Michelle Williams' Heart 2 Yours record and Goapele.' Blue Ivy's foray into solo stardom won't be her first shot at singing. The young teen, whose fan base is known as the Ivy League, had credits to her name long before reaching double digits in age. Dubbed 'the most famous baby in the world' by TIME, just ten days after her birth in January 2012 her coos and cries featured on her dad's track Glory. The following year she landed a credit on her mom's single Blue from her self-titled album.
Times
an hour ago
- Times
How Monte Carlo became cool again
My life was ruined on a Monaco pier. It was there, while dozing on a banana yellow sunbed as superyachts bobbed in the waters, sports cars grumbled down the mountain behind me and lithe French girls in Lanvin bathing suits leapt into the Mediterranean, that I realised my standards of wellbeing had been irreparably raised. I might never be this happy again. It was my first time in the principality, and I was there to check out a new collaboration between the Monte Carlo Beach Hotel and the French designer Simon Porte Jacquemus. The designer has taken over the hotel's pier for summer 2025, helping create a beach club complete with branded chairs and umbrellas and towels — all in the Jacquemus black and yellow colour palette. The brand has also opened two pop-up boutiques at the hotel: one for clothing and another for accessories, including its popular bucket hats (£220). (Its viral, and comically large, raffia sunhat is not longer for sale but is also on display.) The beach club is part of a larger movement afoot in Monte Carlo. While I was there I learnt that the city is going through something of a rebrand. The smart, young crowd who haunt the coves and clubs of the Mediterranean had, apparently, written off Monte Carlo as a party town, choosing instead to take their helicopters across to St Tropez when they wanted to look for good time. Something had to be done, and so hospitality group Société des Bains de Mer, which owns the Monte Carlo Beach Hotel (as well as a host of other hotels in the country), the city's main casino, and 27 restaurants with a collective seven Michelin stars from chefs including Alain Ducasse, Marcel Ravin and Cedric Grolet — began to think about how to appeal to a younger traveller. The trick was pulling this off while maintaining the belle époque glamour and idiosyncratic charm that the city is famous for. • Read more luxury reviews, advice and insights from our experts Monaco is the second smallest independent state in the world. In 1856 Prince Charles III of Monaco granted the Société des Bains de Mer permission to build a casino in Monte Carlo in the hope of attracting wealthy clientele. The ploy worked and the place became a popular destination for everyone from Monet to Mick Jagger. The first Monaco Grand Prix took place in Monte Carlo in 1929, revving up the glitz and, before long, the place became a synonym for decadent luxury, which was further amplified when the actress Grace Kelly joined the royal family. The lustre of the country was burnished by its multiple appearances on screen, including in To Catch a Thief, Bonjour Tristesse and many a Bond film. In the Eighties the glamour took a turn for the brash, as was appropriate for the decade, with tanned royals like Princess Stéphanie, glistening with diamonds and hair gel, lording it about the place. In the Nineties the skies still thrummed with choppers and the sea was frothy with superyachts, but the empty skyscrapers and dwindling club scene meant revellers ventured elsewhere. Which is where Jacquemus, a 36-year-old designer and Côte d'Azur native with over six million followers on Instagram, came in. It turns out that when a social media savvy 16-year-old fashion brand makes an alliance with a 95-year-old hotel with an extensive history, nothing but good can come. What makes this collaboration so fabulous is that in a world where aesthetics have become increasingly uniform, the beach club seems to be eager to bring modern style to the resort while maintaining its unique personality. There you will find good-looking young couples taking photos on the yellow and black striped loungers and older women for whom the tan never went out of style wandering into the sea, perfect in their bikinis and diamonds. The beach club is open to hotel guests and visitors alike, who can feast on everything from club sandwiches and Caesar salad, to watermelon presented on a large bowl of ice, alongside cocktails and fresh juices. Thanks to its positioning at the end of the beach, it feels secluded. There is every form of water sport on offer, and at the end of the long pier there is a netted swimming area to keep you safe from jellyfish. It's a multigenerational beach, but this adds a nice ambience. There's no music blasting, just the faint sounds of children daring each other to dive into the water and suave young Italian businessmen closing deals on their phones. Away from the Beach Club, the hotel, which is part of the Relais & Châteaux group, has plush rooms featuring balconies with perfect view of both the sea and the glittering homes dotted along the hillside. By the pool, which has been recently reimagined by the interior designer Dorothée Delaye, there are chic sunbeds covered in soothing green tones with matching green umbrellas and cabanas. They're positioned by the hotel's two original diving boards — one at a reasonable three metres, the other (now closed to the public) at a staggering five metres. Everywhere we went in Monte Carlo, from the hotel to the two Michelin-starred Blue Bay, we were met with impeccable service, kindness and attention to detail in a way that felt authentic — even when they were complimenting my very broken French. By 3.30 in the afternoon on the Saturday, once everyone had finished their expertly fried courgette flowers and freshly caught Sam Remo prawns, the hotel's restaurant Maona, which is now home to a collaboration with the Mykonos restaurant Sea Satin, was confronting the party problem head on. The DJ had begun laying down dancing tracks, the ouzo was flowing and the restaurant's crisp white napkins were being waved in the air. Somehow, this didn't stop calm at the beach, or interrupt the families playing at the pool. Everyone seemed to have everything they needed. Rather than trying to adapt to the trend for quiet luxury, the beach club has decided to embrace Monte Carlo's maximalism. They're not trying too hard to be cool, which means of course that they are. While other European hotspots like Mykonos and Ibiza will also see Jacquemus pop-ups this summer, I'd suggest stopping by the outpost in Monte Carlo instead. Where else can you find yourself squeezed in a lift with women toting Balenciaga city bags discussing boarding school, a pair of drunk Italians teens in designer track pants, and a priest in white robes wearing circular tortoiseshell Persol glasses? When it comes to glamour, it's really always best to leave it to the experts. The Jacquemus x Monte-Carlo Beach Club is open until October 7. One sunbed costs €30.
