TRAVEL THERE: LOST IN MONTE CARLO
Everything went great with our spontaneous visit to Monte Carlo, until our tender hit the dock. To my right, I could see a stairwell leading into the city. Only, with bad knees, neither Jim nor Melanie wanted to take that route and my friend Deb hates stairs with a passion. They’d heard there was an elevator/escalator somewhere and we were on a mission to find it.
The Escalator Fiasco
I have to tell you we spent the better part of an hour looking for that escalator. I could just feel Bill’s anxiety level rising and the higher his went, the higher mine crawled up the scale. To boot, I felt like I was wearing my pajamas out in public, which is not good for my psyche. It’s true I’m vain, but in this case, it had more to do with indoor clothes on an outdoor adventure.
If it had just been Bill and I in Monte Carlo, we would have either gone on to Guest Relations or I would have convinced him to go to the room and get my travel guide or maybe both. I would have changed into clothes that made me feel a whole lot better about walking around the glamorous city. There would have been no friends to jump on the elevator with, but I would have also put on a little lipstick and mascara, gotten a handbag with some id and a credit card. With the basics in hand, I would have felt a whole lot better about venturing ashore in a foreign country. We also might have made it to our photo studio appointment, which would have made me feel a lot less guilty – or at least cancelled it.
As it was, we were trotting around following a bunch of people who obviously didn’t know where they were going and it made both Bill and I fairly insane. We wandered around some buildings in the port for awhile and then headed in the opposite direction of the town, as you can see in the picture above.
At one point, Bill stopped and tried to address the situation with me. He pointed at our friends going away from Monte Carlo, he pointed to the ship and he pointed to the city. He reminded me we’d paid a whole lot of money for the afternoon shore excursion and he didn’t want to miss it.
I may not have responded to him in the most appropriate manner possible. I’d sized up the situation and even though it looked as if we were headed away from the city, I felt pretty sure once we crossed the bridge, we’d be going up and would back track to where we needed to be. While my response probably could have been better, I was frustrated myself. I couldn’t fix his anxiety and I knew that was the main problem. I couldn’t fix mine either, and that was another problem.
We carried on, but we were on thin ice as we passed this nice pebbly beach. Neither one of us was perfectly happy with the situation, though our reasons for it were probably totally different. Try as we might, we were unable to fix ourselves and make the best of it. We were just not in synch and having an audience didn’t make it any easier to fix things.
We continued our tour of Monte Carlo with our friends and I will tell you more about that in next week’s post, but I’m done talking about the dissonance. Next week, as you read about us going through the motions of touring the city, just remember, we could barely talk to each other. It wasn’t as much fun as it should have been. It got better, as it always does, but for a while it was distinctly uncomfortable.