Monaco-Ville

Monaco-Ville is the Rock: a limestone headland sixty metres above the sea where the Grimaldis have held their palace since 1297, and around it the old town of a country two square kilometres in size — pastel lanes, a Romanesque-revival cathedral where Grace Kelly lies among the princes, the Oceanographic Museum that Prince Albert I built and Cousteau ran hung on the cliff face, and the gardens of Saint-Martin along the edge. Below on one side lies Port Hercule and its yachts, where the Grand Prix takes its famous curve; across the port, Monte Carlo and the casino; on the other side, Fontvieille, a district built on the sea because there was no land left.

The traveller climbs the Rampe Major from the Condamine market at half past eleven to reach the palace square for the changing of the guard at five to twelve — a small, punctual and entirely serious ceremony with a band —; walks the lanes to the cathedral and the tomb; spends the afternoon in the Oceanographic Museum's aquariums and on its roof; sits in the Saint-Martin gardens over the sea; descends to the port to count the yachts and walk the curve; and crosses to Monte Carlo for a look at the casino's façade and, if dressed for it, its rooms — the whole country is walkable in a day, and its lifts and escalators are public.

The Guide's honesty: Monaco is very expensive and very small, and the Rock is the part of it that costs nothing to enjoy — the guard, the lanes, the gardens, the view —; the changing of the guard draws a crowd and the square is not large, so arrive by half past eleven; the museum is worth its ticket; the casino has a dress code and an entry fee and is a monument more than a pastime for most; the train from Nice takes twenty minutes and is the way to come; and the country's tidiness, wealth and police are all in plain sight and part of the portrait.