Monaco: choose between the rail or your shell

Delighted to be taking part in Monaco's Grand Parade, the Count of Moncet lets his medieval verses speak for him: “In Monaco, it's either rail or hull: put down your shield and drop your rapier.”

DJ Moncet is the modern echo of the Count of Moncet, but he still slips in a few verses in the old-school style of his predecessor. In Monaco, it's either the rail or the hull: only the elite have the right to sabre champagne: Senna, Schumacher, Clovis, or Charlemagne. Drop the shield, leave the sword behind, and turn right; Sainte-Dévote is already there, and that's where the race is won, my friend. Step on the gas, there's still one hill to climb. Yes, it's an uphill climb, but not a mountain; these proud curves can scare even the best drivers, and suddenly, the prologue unfolds before you.

All hands on deck: Sainte-Dévote is the decisive point for the twenty-two wolves. At Mirabeau, the secret lies in the turn. Last year, Nico crashed into Lewis, apologizing by saying, “Sorry, my F1 is skidding.” I believe in it too much, my friend, just as I believe in mirages. Under the Mirabeau Bridge, the Seine does not flow, and Lewis' hopes fly away, torn apart by the relentless Nico. The Portier lives up to its name, opening up the tunnel and the port for you. Push hard, step on the gas now or never, shift into eighth gear. The tunnel darkens the deepest thoughts—it's a diabolical lair where hidden fears resurface, frightening but admired by all. In Monaco, it's the rail or your hull. Only the best sabre champagne: Senna, Schumacher, Clovis, or Charlemagne. Drop the shield, leave the sword behind. At the pool, stay in your suit, unless your car floats, of course. If you mess up, don't get upset; if you crash, you'll end up swimming. The stands are filled with a determined crowd watching the knights glide past the pool, negotiate the delicate chicane, and speed through La Condamine. At La Rascasse, you have to graze the rails; the others are content to brush against them, but you, my brother, you caress them. Noghes Anto is not for beginners: one mistake and you'll make the headlines. The serious knight that the Grand Prix puts to the test must still – what arrogance! – conquer La Rascasse and finally avoid, at Anthony Noghes, being ridiculed by the treacherous track. Monaco, my brother, is the race of kings. Jim Clark or Hill, dedicated to Senna, Clooney, Brad Pitt, Albert on the balcony, Charlene Wittstock and even Charlize Theron – Monaco is part of the triple crown. The lands of Austrasia, Neustria and Burgundy reveal themselves alongside monotonous treasures – win in Monaco, reign in paradise!