If Heels Could Talk: The Potential Sugar Daddy

It was a whirlwind solo birthday weekend trip to Nice and Monaco in September 2017. I picked Nice because it was close, I scored a good deal on an Easy Jet flight, the weather was supposed to be great, plus I’d never been to the south of France but I’d heard great things.

Out of curiosity, I hopped on the twenty-minute train ride from Nice to spend an afternoon visiting Monaco. Yes, the country known to be the playground for the rich and famous. Per usual, I got lost on my walk from the train station to the yacht harbor (Hercules Port). I knew I’d found my way when I saw yachts and super yachts bobbing in the water along the port. Each yacht cleaned/shined to perfection, gleaming under the sun.  For a bit of context, docking at this port can cost $4,000 per night during high season.

Each yacht nicer than the last, and each name more ‘bougie’ no one needed to tell me that Monaco was on some other ish! With names like Natali Monaco, Moneikos, Robusto, Bravelove One, another one sounded like something similar to Air Force One (that was my fave!).

Meeting ‘Potential Sugar Daddy’

I walk past one yacht in particular and the owner waves me, and then beckons me onboard. He’s older (I’d guess late 50s or early 60s), skin so tan its obvious he’s spent the entire summer on the boat living his best life as we say these days.  He’s casually dressed in linen trousers and a button down shirt with the top two buttons open exposing his tan chest (and yes a bit of chest hair). I can tell he’s European but from where exactly? Your guess is as good as mine.

For a split second, I consider his offer. I mean it wouldn’t hurt to take a look at the inside of the yacht and I was curious as to what I’d find out about the owner. At the same time, I considered the possibility that I’d get on board, he’d tell his men to set sail. My ‘barely-swimming’ ass would be ‘kidnapped’ on an involuntary cruise along the French Riviera.

So, instead of turning right and walking on to the boat, I stopped, smiled, waved back. I let my sandaled feet lead my body clad in a colorful sleeveless top and distressed jeans, on the walk as planned. No detours onto shiny yachts!

Shooting my shot

I walk all the way to the end of the pier and turn around to walk back… because why not take in the views one more time and take a few pictures this time?  As a solo traveler, I keep an eye for a potential victim, aka photographer, but everyone seems to either in hurry, or absorbed in whatever they’re doing.

I end up near ‘sugar daddy’s yacht and he walks off the boat to talk to me this time. We chat for a few minutes and I find out he’s Italian. He’s incredibly generous with compliments and once again he invites me onboard and I politely decline. Before he leaves, I shoot my shot: Will you please take a picture for me? ‘It would be my pleasure, beautiful,’ he says’ and I hand him my phone!

Sugar daddy went to TOWN so, thank you Sugar daddy for getting this solo traveller a story to tell, and a souvenir from Monaco to go along with it.

I’m not in the market for a sugar daddy, but I’m always ready for adventures and memorable interactions. Do you think he was just being nice or do you think he had ulterior motives? Would you have gone on the yacht? Were you looking for a different end to the story?

I’d love to hear your thoughts. PS. This post started as a guide on how to spend a weekend in Nice and Monaco but here we are. I’ll share my Nice and Monaco tips in a separate post next week since I’ve written it.

Catch up on the series

PPS. “If heels could talk, Stories from the Road’ is a series where I share stories my shoes would tell from my travels. I share a story every other month. I’ve shared about leaving a friend at an airport, traveling to Bolivia without a visa, and meeting hostage negotiators.I’ve written about making a rookie mistake, and seeing the northern lights, and paying $400 for an Apple.

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Till Next Week,

Ms. Heels