Monaco. The name reeks of old world glamour. Images of Princess Grace, Formula 1 racing, Casinos and sparking jewels twist through my mind like whispers of smoke. Monaco is a steaming pot of hedonistic pleasure with a vibe of ripe passion. I love this city, with its beautifully dressed people, fabulously expensive cars and glittery casinos. It’s winding streets, magnificent harbour and views of the Pink Palace. There is always something to do here. There is one place in Monaco that will forever hold a place in my heart and that’s Saint-Martin Gardens.
Late one afternoon I walked the streets to Saint-Martin Gardens. I had heard it offered spectacular views of Monaco at sunset. The garden is an organised tangle of secluded areas and open parkland. Locals picnicked with a ce la vie abandon that I appreciated. On this day, my mood was introspective. I was questioning my need for wanderlust and my place in life. I welcomed the chance to lose myself for a short time. Walking through the gardens along its many trails, I could hear the tribal beat of bongo drums. The sound echoed from tree to tree, a symphony of sound. It pulsed into my very being. I felt like I becoming one with nature. At that moment, I was the only woman in the world. The passion of the rhythm heating my blood. I was invincible in my desires. I was sexy, aware and alive!
This was a moment where I felt at one with my soul. At the time I was questioning myself and my desires and the universe gave me the answers through the magical beat of invisible bongo drums.
I was strong, I was a woman of this world and I could do anything! Never doubt. Just believe.