Luv Letter to a Monégasque Indian Summer

Dear Monaco,

Two months already, how? They quite literally flew by! You’ve been nothing but sunny, warm, and cosy, so naturally, I had to write a Luv Letter to your Indian Summer.

The First Weeks of Indian Summer

During the first week of September, my parents helped me settle into my new apartment in Roquebrune. It’s such a lovely place, though it still had that “holiday rental” energy, meaning, of course, multiple Ikea trips were mandatory. (Nothing says “home” like cursing your way through an Ikea alley.)

We spent those first few days exploring Monaco and Menton, where I learned that Menton is absolutely obsessed with lemons. I’m talking lemon soap, lemon magnets, lemon earrings, if it stands still long enough, they’ll stick a lemon on it. Naturally, we brought some citrus treasures home to brighten up the apartment.

On the eve before my first day of school, and my parents’ last night in town, we went to the old village of Èze. I had dreamt of eating at La Chèvre d’Or, and it did not disappoint: the views were immaculate, the food divine. As we were walking through the gardens to the restaurant, we crossed paths with a couple, and I told my parents, “This place would be perfect for a proposal.” Five minutes later, the same couple got engaged right in front of us. Psychic powers confirmed. (I’ll be accepting bookings for future predictions shortly.)

The first day of school was hectic but exciting, I even met one of my now-closest friends. Life really knows how to throw the right people your way when you least expect it. Between settling into classes, furnishing the apartment, and trying to have a social life, those first few weeks were a whirlwind. Another Ikea run (yes, again) for a couch somehow fit into the Fiat, a miracle of modern engineering. All just in time to host my first guests: my friends from home.

A Tourist in My New Home

By the third weekend, my two best friends arrived, and it was super SUPER fun (emphasis deserved). I picked them up at the airport under a candy-pink sunset, the kind that makes you think the Côte d’Azur has its own personal filter. That night we caught up over drinks on my balcony, my new favourite tradition.

The next morning we grabbed the Fiat, roof off, and did a full Monaco tour. In my humble opinion, the best way to see it is to start at Casino Square, wander down toward Port Hercule and attempt to manifest a yacht lifestyle, then take the bus up to the Prince’s Palace for the best views and a proper wander through Monaco-Ville. I love that area; no cars, just pastel facades, and alleyways that look like they’ve been waiting for a painter.

We had lunch in Menton, paella and mussels big enough to feed a small army, and then climbed (and I mean climbed) up to the Basilique Saint-Michel. Compared to Monaco’s cathedral, which is beautiful but a little brooding, the basilica glowed in warm, golden light. It felt like a happy secret.

Back home, we decided to swim in the sea, my first dip since moving here. I did have the brilliant idea to make this a weekend ritual. Spoiler: it hasn’t happened once since. I’m terrible at habits but great at appreciating intentions.

That night we met my Uni friend for drinks at Trinity and Twiga. I still stand by the statement that clubbing in Monaco is mostly a “see and be seen” affair. People don’t dance, they pose. Still, it was fun to show my friends the Monte-Carlo nightlife (from a safe, semi-sober distance).

Sunday we went to Loulou, my new obsession, for lunch by the sea. No risotto that day, but everything else was divine. Afterward we just sat, talked, and soaked it all in; three friends, one salty breeze. That evening was low-key: Gilmore Girls and snacks. The next morning they flew home, and I went to class. That weekend made me appreciate my new home even more.

October Chaos (The Fun Kind)

Then came October, which could best be described as beautiful chaos. After a cosy weekend at home in the Netherlands, Monaco life turned up the volume. We had a student association party at Jimmy’z, where the drinks were so expensive that we ended up leaving sober. (Financial responsibility has never looked so glamorous.)

There were spontaneous dinners, a friend getting tackled by an overly affectionate dog, and a polo match where we met the most eccentric Russian man with a backstory straight out of a Netflix drama, the kind you absolutely can’t fact-check but will definitely retell forever.

I hiked along the coastal trail and discovered that every five minutes, the view somehow outdoes the last. And somewhere in between all the madness, I even went to the Philharmonic Orchestra, where I sat three rows in front of Prince Albert II; I could almost feel the power of his clap.

Through it all, I kept thinking: How is this my life? I’m so grateful to be here in the south of France, learning about the luxury industry, figuring out my next steps, and reminding myself to savour it all. I know this chapter won’t last forever, which only makes it feel more special.

Here’s to more crazy, funny, beautiful, and lovely moments in the months to come.

Spread the Luv,

Isabella