Me? The faux Duke of Rutland? With a Rolls-Royce? In Monte Carlo? Asking rhetorical questions? With MY reputation? Well, yes. Don’t ask me how, or why, but as I sat drinking G&Ts at someone else’s expense wondering quite how I’d gotten away with it, again, I took stock of the others around me.

First, directly outside the Casino, a grey Wraith with Monaco plates. This car is always here, unlocked, and like all Rolls-Royces it hides it’s size with graceful lines. Look at how the C pillar flows to the boot. Residents of Monaco are forbidden from entering the casinos (something to do with the complex tax avoidance laws) so who owns it? Apologies for the red Fiat, just in shot.

 


 
On the corner, parked only slightly illegally (although no-one dares to ticket it), is this blue and silver Wraith. I suspect there’s a hint of humour in that private plate, issued in Moscow. It is the details that make a Rolls Royce special. For example; See how the logos are always upright on the hubs. Anyway – Where is the driver? Inside, gambling with Gazproms profits, probably.

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Almost opposite is this black Ghost. A UK plated car, not on the insurance database, with a gold plated spirit of ecstasy on display. It is often here. A behemoth on British roads yet next to an overlooked Panamera here the Ghost looks rather modest. Chinese people have their picture taken with it. Curtains twitch. Relax, they’re tourists, not from HMRC.
 
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As night falls and my glass matches my bank balance – empty – I spot the old money on my way out. There’s a Silver Spirit, parked near the fountain, Monaco plates and slightly sun-faded paint. And in the carpark, bagged up under a monikered cover, a Silver Shadow. White wall tyres. Those yellow lamps that Continentals use. A yachting club emblem. I’ll bet there’s no faux in this owner’s title.
 

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