It has been a long overnight flight from JFK (New York City) to Nice, France via Heathrow, as the sun starts pulsing high above me, I find myself the sleepless one who feels like she is in a time warp. I can take a taxi to the Hotel Columbus in Monaco where I am staying, a one Euro train, or should I go glam and fly in a chopper? Which of course is what I decide to do.

Stylin’ with my new green Swiss Army luggage, I chopper into the smallest country in the world next to Vatican City - Monaco. Only a 10-minute ride, as I head to PokerStars European Poker Tour for six days.

The view as we head over the Mediterranean, is simply astonishing - like no place I have ever seen in my life. White buildings - both mansions and apartment buildings, are ensconced into tall, steep cliffs, or a rocky promontory.

High above it all, I see in the distance the palace where she once lived, she being my idol, Grace Kelly. The hotel where I am staying overlooks her rose garden, which Prince Rainier devoted in her honor after her untimely death in 1982. Taking a Xanax, I am off for a much needed nap, my glass door on the fifth floor wide open as the smell of Princess Grace’s sweet and colorful roses lull me off into a deep sleep.

The next morning, after a wonderful European breakfast of yogurt, cereal, and cheese, my group, who all won their seats to the ladies tournament via satellites playing on PokerStars.net, head to Vanessa Rousso’s Big Slick Bootcamp at the uber-luxurious Monte Carlo Bay. I am a novice at poker. I am not kidding you. Read on!

I have only been playing since February on PokerStars.net, and I am used to the computer spewing out the big blinds and small blinds for me. I am sure I am the worst in the group of about ten, but I am, for some reason, confident I will make it to the final table. (Is the Xanax still kicking?)

And so the gorgeous blonde Rousso begins her invaluable lessons. We learn about tournaments being classified as long marathons, or short sprints. I learn we will be playing a marathon tomorrow at the ladies $1100 euro buy-in. Then again, if I only last a round or two, it will be a sprint. Vanessa tells us our strategy should change depending on payout structure: steep vs. flat; blind structure: steep, vs. flat; starting chip stack: deep vs. short; and the quality of players: good vs. bad. As she moves ahead and begins talking about M, a character I thought I understood in the James Bond movies, I am completely perplexed by what M means. This is like a trigonometry class; or, like being back in college redoing the economics class that I got a D – in!

Rousso starts telling us to size up our opponents and she asks me questions to get an example of what kind of player I am. She asks how I got to the tournament. “Did you buy in, or win a seat by satellite?” I simply respond, “It’s complicated.” She asks if I have ever won a tournament before. I say, “Yes.” She asks which one. I reply simply, “The World Series of Poker but it was before your time.” She laughs her ass off because I have interviewed her several times now and she knows my skill level.

We are eventually given a pop quiz to fill out. There are five questions including. “If there is 200 in the pot and you face a 500 bet holding an open-ended straight draw, do you likely have the pot odds to call?” I circle Yes after a round of eeenie, meenie, minie, mo…Buzzer – wrong. The last question is something I am convinced only our Treasury Secretary and Warren Buffet would comprehend. “It folds to you on button with 4d5d and a stack of 10,000 with blinds of 100/200/25Ante in level 4 of a marathon-style tournament. Small blind is a pro with short stack of 1100, big blind has 7000 and is loose. What do you do and WHY.” I reply, “Chopper the hell out of Monte Carlo very quickly.” I hand in my paper and sign it with my new name PokerStars pro, Katja Thater. Rousso laughs again. I have flunked every single question. I decide I will make it to the final table using my wit. It is obvious I am not a poker brain, nor will I be on team PokerStars anytime soon.

The following day, I enter the tournament at 2 p.m. getting to Le Sport arena where we will be playing two hours early. I would like to sit in my seat. “Um, that won’t be possible until about 15 minutes before the tournament begins,” says the registration rep. I look through Rousso’s bootcamp packet again and again. How to bet . . . what to bet. . . I am still fascinated with M, and I try and figure it out as I sit outside, sun burning in the Monte Carlo rays. Again, M is Bond.

Two o’clock can’t come fast enough. I take my white seat assignment paper and hand it over to the dealer. A Pokerstars pro from Argentina named Veronica Dabul sits to my right. A woman who speaks Spanish, or Russian or something sits to my left, next to Fatima Moreira de Melo, the gorgeous blond Olympic hockey star from Holland, and darn it, another PokerStars pro. Next to her is another PokerStars person, and then a French and an Italian pro. Quite simply, I’m in big doo!

The tournament begins, and a blond from Estonia and two French women at the far end of the table quickly amass large pots of chips. I am scared and fold on pocket queens. The big blind comes around to me, and I fold on it due to rotten cards. The dealer says with ‘tude, “Well, that is one way to fold!” I have taken Vanessa’s last minute advice, to only play with aces and like the next coming of the Virgin Mary Apparition, I begin to collect chips.

Soon, it is obvious, I only play when I have Aces, although I continue to bundle with posting my blinds, which dear darling Fatima now does for me as my devoted butler. I fold again on a big blind, but Fatima makes me pull my cards back, and I do so in the nick of time. There is not an Ace in my hand, but I am the big blind. As Fatima says, “You played a suited 4 5 and made a straight on an Ace, 6, 7, 8, x board. Your opponent (the woman to my immediate left) was all in with two pair, A8. Both of you showed your cards and you said, staring at the board: "Did I win?" - which you obviously did, kicking your opponent out of the tournament. If you were a guy, and your opponent as well, you guys would've gotten into a fight!”

The woman cannot believe her eyes. She picks up her brown leather pocketbook and just stands at the table staring at me in disillusionment for a good 15 minutes. I am that much richer for my hand!

About three hours in, we are nearing a dinner break when the Estonia woman says to me, “Are you a ringer? You pretend to not know what you are doing, but I do not know about you. I think you are trying to fool us all.”

Wow I’ll say! Plus, I’m still in!

Vanessa Rousso has clearly told me time and time again that is important to eat very healthy during a tournament, because she once had this big Indian dinner and busted not long after at a tournament in which she was playing due to all of the bread she consumed. She says do not eat carbs, and don’t drink alcohol. But I’m hungry and I am not in the mood for fruit and a carrot stick. Instead of crudite, I opt for a delicious pea and artichoke risotto and a Heineken for my dinner. I am full by the end, and rub my tummy with a smile.

I return to the ladies tournament, and soon my posting my blinds partner, Fatima has busted. Who will post for me now, I wonder. A French pro is out too, as is another PokerStars player. But by ten p.m. my chips are low, and I stupidly go all in with an A-5 – a red one and a black one, who knows what suit? I am the 39^th player to leave in a group of 68. I have not made the final table, and I am pissed. I was suppose to share my winnings with a friend. Now what am I suppose to say?

I grab a glass of red Bordeaux and wander over to Fatima and I inquire about my playing style. She’s blunt. “How Bad Was I?” I ask now resting on a red beanie bag in the players lounge, sipping my wine. “It was quite obvious that you were very unsure about everything, betting, putting out your big blind, folding,” she says oh so matter-of-factly. “You even folded your hand when you were the Big blind and people hadn't raised the blinds! But, even though you were quite bad, it was a pleasure playing with you,” she says kindly. I ask her for some advice. “Play a lot of hands! Get comfortable with your decisions by thinking of a plan instead of just doing whatever comes to mind.” And then I inquire, “Do you think I should quit my day job?” Fatima laughs, “If your day job is poker, yes.”

Interestingly, three women who weren’t pros made it to the final table from the table where I played. Thrown to the sharks? I’ll say. It was back to PokerStars.net for me, and my play money chips.

The next day, I head to Grace Kelly’s house. I had always thought it was pink but it is in fact a pale orange and knock dead gorgeous. Prince Albert now lives there. I take a tour of the palace and pretend I am Princess Grace hosting a cocktail party in one of the more beautiful blue shaded rooms. I snap photos, but then soon see a sign that says ABSOLUTELY NO PHOTOS TO BE TAKEN. I have illegally bootlegged from Princess Grace’s memory. Sorry, Grace Kelly, but a gal has to publish such things!

After leaving her footsteps behind, I buy a cool red and white Monaco jacket with the words Grand Prix written on the back. The grand prix will be held on the Saturday and Sunday, my last days in Monaco. But first there’s the PokerStar's wrap party and EPT Awards at the Karement club on 10 Avenue Princesse Grace I Monaco. We are served champagne as we enter, and feast on hor d’ouevres, such as guacamole with shrimp, vegetable rolls, and pasta! Where is Vanessa Rousso when a gal needs to be on a diet?

Eventually all of the pros come in like, Daniel Negreanu, Vicky Coren, Vanessa Rousso and Chad Brown, and the real Katja Thater. These are all faces I’m just beginning to know because I only started covering poker in January at the Pokerstars Carribean Adventure at the Atlantis. But my what an experience it has been. Through PokerStars I have now been to Bermuda, the Venetian in Vegas, and now the most beautiful place on earth, Monaco where I even soaked my toes in the cold blue Riviera. Poker, at least to follow as a journalist, is now in my blood. To play, I’d say you might just lose your bet on me!

Sue Carswell is a reporter/researcher for "Vanity Fair."   She is the author of "Paying For Glory," and "Faded Pictures From My Backyard." Carswell is a former senior producer at "Good Morning America," former executive and senior editor at Random House Inc. and Simon & Schuster.  She was a contributing launch editor for "O, The Oprah Magazine."  She is a contributor for Wowowow.com.  She lives in Manhattan where she is also a ghostwriter and speechwriter.

Photos courtesy of Sue Carswell.