The only one in Europe where you need to keep pinching yourself in disbelief. The Principality is tiny. It would fit into New York’s Central Park with space left over. Monaco’s achievement has been to keep a fizz of glamour buzzing about the place. The setting helps, with mountains sharp behind and the Med out front.

Packed in are the famous, the fabulous, the financiers and the simply super-rich, all co-existing in a swirl of excess and security. In Monte-Carlo – one of the Principality’s five districts – bespoke-tailored gardens attended daily descend to a Casino square awash with Bentleys, ornate façades and officials in uniform keeping the high end life trouble-free.

Across the Port, where Monaco started, the palace lords it over a pristine medieval centre. History rings true but like everything else, highly-polished. The Grand Prix in May, Tennis Open in April, and rock concerts at the Monte Carlo Sporting Club all add to the glamour. 

Monaco is unique. It should be seen at least once, if only to escape reality.