I’ve just read in Le Figaro that a lady from Antibes won over four and a half million euros on a slot-machine in the casino La Sieste at Antibes yesterday afternoon. Apparently there is a system now linking the slot machines of various casinos in the same group and this is not the first multi-million euro jackpot. I presume it didn’t cascade all over the lady’s feet.
I’ve never been into that casino. In fact the only time we have ventured into such a place was at San Remo. We wanted to see the James Bond type glamour. The only part of the casino open at that time was the slot-machine room, a dark, dingy, stuffy place, decorated in shades of brown. Husband got out his camera to record the total lack of glamour and immediately a couple of heavies appeared and requested that he desist. They then escorted us off the premises. The children think it highly amusing that Mum and Dad got thrown out of a casino, as if we were about to break the bank or something. I found out later that there was an underworld dispute over control of various casinos along the Italian Riviera, so perhaps we were thought to be spies for the opposition.
Perhaps next time we’re in Monaco I’ll fight my way through the Ferraris and Lamborghinis in Casino Square to see if the atmosphere in that casino is any pleasanter.
Boadicea's Chariot 
Hello Sheona, aka, 007.
Do you not think that maybe it wasn’t the camera that made Blofeld’s thugs jumpy? Did they, perhaps, hear your accent? (smiley things disabled at the moment so written smiley thing instead)
I can relate to that Sheona.
I (almost) got thrown out of the Darwin Casino because I was (many years ago) wearing a designer T-shirt which did not have sleeves. I pointed out that Boadicea’s dress covered very much less of her upper region that my T-shirt, but to no avail.
But just as the heavies were closing in, an old, leather skinned cockie at the bar said, in a voice that could have launched the Titanic, “Leave the Pommie tourist alone, his Shelia looks all right.” I was allowed to stay. 😉
I’ve only ever visited casinos in the US, and despite the fact that some of the punters obviously had more money than sense, I thought they were rather sleazy sort of places, and not in the least glamorous! Something to do wth the “Mob” connection?
They also have a rather irritating habit of declaring any of the machines that start paying out as “faulty”.
Two heavies came rushing up to the one that I was using and disconnected it, but I did win about $300.
Perhaps you’re right, TR, though I’m not sure Italian heavies would have recognised a Scottish accent. Now if I had grabbed one by the lapels and uttered the immortal words “See you, Jimmie …”?
Yes, Araminta, sleazy is the right word I think. Next time I must contact Sean Connery to see if we can arrange to visit together.
That is pretty hilarious, being unceremoniously ejected out of a high class gambling den…what disgracefully appalling behaviour you exhibited to deserve it 😉
Well, it was a bit low-key disgraceful really, bleuebelle. We should have been drinking champagne and dancing on tables I feel. But the casino still allows me to use the rather swish Ladies Room if I need it when we’re in the area.
That must have hurt!
I am guessing that the banning of cameras had something to do with protecting the privacy of the punters.
I had an uncle, a ‘Scotchman’ (he was a fan of Johnson,despite his Celtic ancestry), who used to be a big shot in the City. We were discussing the sleazy side of Soho as it was in the 70s. He bemoaned the fact that despite his tremendous curiosity, he had never ventured inside any of the multitude of sex shops that littered the area and so had no idea what sort of things were sold and what services were on offer. He could not even be seen reading the personal ads in Private Eye. Imagine, he said, if a photographer were to snap him entering or leaving such a place. Any amount of explanation that his interest was purely academic would have been pointless.
You may be right, Sipu.
Completely painless, Sipu. At that time the description was completely accurate. It was during my very first visit downunder.
Ah, that would explain the lack of sartorial elegance. A sleeveless T-shirt – whatever next?