My early-morning flight to Nice is sponsored by Ralph and Rachelle Bernabei, who are mad enough to spend over a hundred dollars just so they can spend an extra couple of hours with me on the way to the airport. When we part tearfully in the terminal, I am crying not only because I will not see my parents again for several months, but also because I could have probably milked them for more free flights, if I had just had some foresight into how much they would miss me. ‘Oh well,’ I think, ‘there will be time to exploit my parents love for personal gain.We are young.’
I am exhausted from so few hours of sleep, and doze on the short plane ride. I am still so drowsy when I land that I board the free shuttle to a terminal farther away from my destination, then get off and start walking from there to the train station. This is my third time to France, and my second time in the last 24 hours. I am here for one reason and one reason only: to get to Monaco.
The billeteur is in a bad mood because the French lady in front of me keeps making her order wrong. How many kids does she have? How many adults? The man is pissed, for she knows not. The only reason I am here is because my credit card does not work on the machine, so a helpful man tells me I have to go inside. Little do I know, my card also does not work inside, and the ticket-seller absolutely loses his mind when I give him the cash, but argue that the ticket price is cheaper on the machine as I am under 26. “Go back to the machine then!” he yells in French. Secretly, I love it when angry, tired anarchists take positions of relative power in customer service roles. What can the people do, call the law? For all I know, he is the law. Hell, for all I know he is Emmanuel Macron, who I am sure I have seen photos of but have certainly forgot what he looks like. The ticket and change is thrown at me precisely ten seconds before my train leaves, and a symphony of groans plays me out and into a car of older female gamblers with "I'm feeling lucky" in their eyes. To Monaco, baby!
Victor Bernabei is just another millenial travel blogger. But here's the twist: He isn't a millenial! His goal is to see as many countries as he can, and spread the message that the world is not as scary as the news wants you to believe, and that there is beauty in all people, places and things.