It's where the road ends. First you pass the tranquil promenade, wave at the tennis club. You go and you go and you pump your legs until you think they are going to fall off of your body. It's a trek back in real estate time...first come the HEINOUS villas that sell for HEINOUS prices, their only nod to architecture a half-assed mansard roof. Then things get a little more blockish, although with plenty of sculptural garnishes— a nod to times when techniques weren't as sophisticated as tastes. And then you are back about a 100 years, country homes that used to actually be in the country. Then you hit the security checkpoint, and you're finished. (Hint, look to your left).