I arrived at Place du Casino before eight in the morning, when the fountains were still running and nobody was there yet except a man in overalls washing down the pavement. The casino stood exactly as I expected it to look and somehow still managed to surprise me — that pale green copper dome, the ornate towers, the profusion of urns and garlands carved into the facade with an excess that only the late nineteenth century thought was appropriate. Charles Garnier designed this place the same decade he finished the Paris Opéra, and it shows. The building is not trying to be tasteful. Taste is beside the point. It is trying to make your jaw drop, and it does.
The gaming rooms themselves open in the afternoon, and non-gamblers can pay an entrance fee to wander the public areas. I did this on a rainy October afternoon with almost nowhere else to go, and I was glad of it. The Salle Europe, the oldest room, has a ceiling painted with cigar-smoking women who gaze down at the roulette tables with expressions that suggest they have seen everything and found it mildly amusing. The private salons beyond are done in a shade of green velvet that says: we are not joking about any of this. Standing there watching a man in a good suit lose what was almost certainly a month of my income on a single hand of baccarat, I felt something I can only describe as anthropological wonder. Monaco distills something about European wealth that is too diffuse everywhere else to see clearly. Here, in this room, it is concentrated into its purest form.
The square outside does its own theater, at no cost. I spent an hour at the Café de Paris terrace one evening — a coffee, which cost me what a bottle of wine costs me in Mexico, but I paid it without resentment because the entertainment was worth it. Ferraris and Lamborghinis circled the plaza at about twelve kilometers an hour, which is the speed at which they are most visible and most audible. A man got out of a Rolls-Royce wearing linen trousers and no socks and a woman in a red dress photograph him doing it. Three backpackers with beer cans sat on the casino steps and watched the whole spectacle with the same rapt attention I was giving it. Monaco is many things but it is never not interesting to look at.
When to go: Early morning and late evening at Place du Casino are quieter and more photogenic than any other time — the crowds thin and the light turns the building gold. October and November bring rain but also a near-empty casino square, which has its own charm. Avoid May during Grand Prix week unless you enjoy crowds of the dedicated and the exceedingly loud.