Hi. I’m Mel Dark, copywriter, serial expat, eternal teenager, sea air breather, brie addict.
I grew up in London and moved to Toronto in my mid 20s following a love affair with a rock star. Eight years later I became Canadian and sang Oh Canada and waved the Maple Leaf flag like a maniac. However, Canada and I decided that it’d be better for our relationship if I saw other countries, just for a little while at least.
So I headed to Paris for a 3-month sabbatical, which somehow turned into 2 years because of all the steak-frites and terrine de everything and unshaven Frenchmen undressing me with their eyes. I lived in a chic Marais shoebox and wore black and sat on pretty steps smoking cigarettes. It was disgustingly romantic. But I realised there was something too picture postcard about Paris. And that old ruins really depress me. And that if I were to see one more tray of perfect, miniscule rainbow coloured macarons, I would have to hit someone very veryhard.
No, I needed sea air and sunshine and laid back people in Bermudas taking 3-hour lunch breaks. So I put on some factor 50 and headed down to Nice for the summer – and within one week it was clear that this was where I was meant to be. Now that I’ve tasted the sweet nectar of daily siestas and the sound of boats jingling in the breeze…. I ain’t turning back. Nuh-uh.
So here I am. And here you are. I don’t know which cheek to kiss you on first.