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A short description of Steve and Hamish’s trip to Monaco May 2006

Thursday 11th May 2006
A little bit of background: about two months ago Steve's company, Computacenter, recognised the work he puts in looking after his team of engineers, and the other project work he does, and his dedication, and at an awards ceremony in Birmingham he won the coveted Team Leader of the Year.

Which is why I have spent today packing bags and looking out passports, and why this evening we are at a hotel near Gatwick Airport, with three senior managers and sixteen other Computacenter employees and their partners, all winners in other categories, being wined and dined and put up for the night.

Friday 12th May 2006
An alarm call at 0340 hours was essential, but not particularly welcome. It was a slightly subdued group of travellers who gathered in reception, trouped quietly onto the bus, then queued at the airport to check bags in, and for security. We finally boarded the BA Boeing 737 for the journey to Nice; snoozing was the main feature of the flight.

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After a perfect touchdown at Nice Airport we were individually scrutinised by a severe French Immigration official before identifying our bags, which were to be transported directly to our Monaco hotel, while we were whisked through the airport by minibus to... the heliport!

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I don't think anyone in our group had ever flown in a helicopter before; certainly neither Steve nor I had. We waited at the edge of the airfield - near a French Armée de l'Air (French Air Force) helicopter base - until our Aerospatiale AS-350 Ecureuil chopper touched down and four of us boarded, engine still running and blades turning. We were the first of four or five flights. The pilot, a non-talkative type - sat in the front right seat, and one of our party sat next to him, while the other three of us sat behind. We all had great views out of the sides and front of the aircraft, as the ground crew slammed the doors shut and gave a thumbs-up to the pilot. The engine revs increased dramatically, the rotors flew around faster and faster, the helicopter vibrated, and then the pilot moved his joystick and we lifted off, hovering only a few feet from the ground as we spun around; then the front tilted down and we sped across the rough ground towards the sea. Before long we were climbing fantastically fast and heading over the blue Mediterranean.

He levelled off at about 300 feet, and we watched the French coast pass by to our left as we flew towards Monaco. We could see other helicopters in the air, over to our right, on their return trips. We briefly climbed to about 500 feet to get a wonderful view of the twin ports of the Principality before dropping down to the heliport right on the water's edge.

I had an enormous grin throughout the entire flight, which didn't let up for a long while afterwards while we swapped stories with the others as we boarded minibuses for a trip through the town and to the Castelroc restaurant high up near the Royal Palace.

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After what seemed like a very light lunch, but turned out to be just right for the activities to follow, and lots of chances to chat to the other members of the group and meet their partners, we received our instructions from the tour organisers for the afternoon's event: a kind of treasure hunt through Monte Carlo, designed to end about three hours later back at the hotel. There were vouchers for a museum visit in our comprehensive pack, along with bus tickets, two maps and a booklet of questions, things to identify and draw, and so on. Our group was eight, and we made what we thought was a reasonable fist of answering the questions. We trekked around, questioned shop owners and policemen, translated inscriptions, and visited the beautiful Cathedral, where Princess Grace, and Prince Rainier and his ancestors (the Grimaldis have ruled Monaco for around seven centuries) are buried. We also toured the Oceanographic Museum, where tanks of exotic fish, and skeletons of whales and so on, are displayed.

Actually, we saw and learned a lot more about Monaco this way than if we had simply been given completely free time to wander (into a bar no doubt!)

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Arriving back at the hotel at the time we did gave us ample opportunity to shower and change, and get a drink in the bar before our coach trip to what will be, in two weeks time, one of the most sought-after spots in the whole world: The Café Grand Prix, right in the middle of the hairpin bend on the most famous street race in the world, the Grand Prix de Monaco, which takes place here in a fortnight.

We were indeed privileged to have the place completely to ourselves, and two of the senior CC managers welcomed us and celebrated the achievements of the trip winners in style. The drink flowed freely, and continued to do so back at the hotel into the early hours.

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Our room on the fourth floor of the Columbus Hotel is very well appointed and stylish, reflecting really the whole ambience of the hotel. We have a private balcony which overlooks the quiet street, and a beautiful, tranquil garden - well, a small park I suppose. We have a view of the sea, and can even see helicopters taking off from and landing at the heliport where we arrived on Friday. The mountains rising behind seem to consist of an almost golden rock, covered here and there with dark green foliage.

Saturday 13th May 2006
I'm not sure what proportion of the previous night's drinkers made it to breakfast, but everyone was present and correct for the coach departure later. We left Monaco and climbed very high into the rocky French hills behind and above the Principality. We soon arrived at our destination, Peille, where the day's activities would start from: buggy driving!

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The buggies (les boogy as the French call them) are a kind of cross between a go-kart and a quad-bike. They consist of two seats side-by-side in a roll-cage, onto the back of which is connected another tubular steel rig containing a two-stroke engine, all supported by very springy suspension and four fat-tyred wheels. Two pedals provide brakes on the left and acceleration on the right, and a pretty stiff, simply-designed steering system completes the vehicle. There are rear-view mirrors too, and a reasonably useless (in that it is very insecure) luggage rack on the back.

We received a brief brief, and off we went in a great crocodile onto the local tarmaced lanes. Steve drove ours first until we stopped briefly on a slope at a bend in the road with amazing views back down towards the high-rise sprawl of Monte Carlo. The parking brakes, we discovered, were a bit useless, and there was a lot of tinkling of headlight glass as each buggy rolled into the one in front as foot brakes were released. After the break I took over driving, but there was a mad scramble to get the seat belts adjusted before we could set off and allow those behind us in the convoy to do so as well.

The buggy, I discovered, wanted to steer itself to the right all the time, and so keeping it straight was a challenge in itself, and left-hand turns required a real effort. But hanging back a little from the vehicle in front, then flooring the throttle into a right-hander could slide the back out in a most satisfying manner. Acceleration and top speed in the single gear available wasn't phenomenal, but sitting so close to the ground, effectively out in the open, with the engine right behind you, certainly gave a very real impression of speed and power. Especially when the tarmac ran out and we started to go off-road proper, onto loose stone tracks. Sheer drops on one side or the other, as we climbed the hillside on twisting tracks, certainly held the attention, but truly heightened the sense of danger.

This was brought home to us at the next stop, when news arrived that Andy and Kirsty had had a wheel come off their buggy, and had only just avoided going over the edge. Of course we all treated the incident light-heartedly, but in reality it had been quite frightening for the participants. That wasn't the last of the incidents...

We continued to climb for some considerable time, and it was on one of the faster, straighter, flatter sections when there was a juddering, the steering stopped... well... steering, and the front left wheel came off our buggy. Luckily we were able to pull over against the rocks on one side of the track, those following on behind us leaned on their horns and summoned the accompanying quad-bike-riding organisers, who directed the others past us, inspected the damage, and announced that we weren't going any further in that particular vehicle. So instead, Steve and I were offered rides on the backs of the quad-bikes. Although unexpected, we both thoroughly enjoyed the experience, and got to travel more kilometres because we were zipped backwards and forwards, up and down the line of surviving buggies. The obligatory wearing of ridiculous pink crash helmets didn't dampen our enthusiasm - perhaps riding around the mountains with a fit young Frenchman inches in front of me may have coloured my view!

The last incident of the excursion was a flat tyre, and the organisers fixed that fairly promptly. The return down the steep and slippy hill tracks was pretty hairy for most people, not least because we all knew wheels could come off! For Steve and me, on the backs of the quad-bikes, with the extra height giving us even better views over the edges of the precipices, the concerns were probably greater.

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Unfortunately all the incidents added together made us late for our lunch appointment at an auberge in the village of Sainte-Agnes so, after a succession of small courses, we were too late and too full to participate in the itinerised pétanque tournament. The coaches took us back to the hotel in Monaco where most people, exhausted by the fresh air and the adrenaline rushes of the day's adventures, flopped, until we met again for our trip to the dinner venue.

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At this point I want to talk a little about how this trip is organised. Three senior managers from Computacenter are hosting the weekend, but the complex timings and all the day-by-day, hour-by-hour planning is being done by two representatives from a company called Métier, who I can't praise highly enough for the ways in which they respond to every problem encountered and get it sorted, timetables re-arranged, everyone kept informed, all without fuss or drama. They are the ones who have made the whole trip work.

~ ~ ~

The group reassembled for a short coach ride from the Fontvieille district of Monaco, where our hotel is situated, to the central area of Monte Carlo. Our guide, as ever, was the lovely Nicole, who filled us in with some history, some geography, and a few stories about the areas we were passing through. Once we'd stopped we had a short walk - in the first rain we had encountered since arriving - to the world-famous Maxim's de Paris restaurant, which was ours for the evening. Imagine - Maxim's booked for a private party on a Saturday night!

The atmosphere was amazing, and the staff so attentive to our every need. A truly delicious meal ensued, the universally-acclaimed highlight of which was a cut of lamb so tender it fell apart if you so much as looked at it slightly harshly. As has been the case throughout, the drinks flowed in abundance, and a very convivial time was had by all. As a tribute to CC and the managers, a short speech was made in appreciation by one of our group. I had penned a few contributing words expressing my thoughts as a partner included in CC's generosity, but somehow they didn't find their way into the speech, which was disappointing.

Of the forty or so people at Maxim's, all but six went on to the Casino (with varying fortunes) and other bars. Steve and I were two of the six who returned straight to the Columbus, as we were so exhausted after the day's activities - plus my contact lenses were really beginning to cause me problems and I'd stupidly forgotten to bring my glasses with me. we drank a G&T in the hotel bar and retired for a well-earned, and luxuriously long, sleep in our extremely comfortable bed.

Sunday 14th May 2006
Our second breakfast in the Columbus was as good as yesterday's; this time though we were able to hear stories from the others about the previous night's adventures. Steve and I checked out and went on a souvenir hunt after breakfast, catching the changing of the guard at the Royal Palace, after which another coach took us away from Monaco for the last time on a climb back up the mountain roads and westwards along the coast, to the quaint medieval village of Eze.

We were split into teams and set off to taste various local delicacies - such as sugared rose petals and syrup of lavender - in a kind of treasure hunt around the village, ending at a high terrace overlooking the Mediterranean where we relaxed with Champagne, and took group photographs.

Back at the coach we said goodbye to Ian and Claire, a couple who had given up their honeymoon to come on the trip, and who had been told on Friday night that they were to stay an extra night in Monaco on their own, with all food and drink paid for of course, a helicopter back to the airport the next day, and an extra day off work.

A trip down to one of the three Corniches - roads running along the coast between the mountains on one side and the sea on the other - running between the Italian border and Nice, took us into Nice itself. We had a few minutes free time to do some final souvenir shopping, which we spent with Steve and Marina, with whom we've spent an enjoyable amount of time during the trip. A stroll along the elegant Promenade des Anglais gave us our only real up-close view of the sea since we skimmed over it in that helicopter, what seems like an age ago now.

The meal, at an Italian restaurant in a picturesque square - with bizarrely random bell chimes and equally unpredictable fountain - was a slightly frantic affair, as we were unaccountably late, and up against an immovable deadline, i.e. our flight out. I think the restaurant draughted in extra help, and the superb courses arrived in quick succession. We got away more or less on time, got to the airport, checked in, said goodbye to our French guides, and then discovered the flight was delayed half-an-hour. As they say around here: "C'est la vie!"