My five best and five worst dates from around the globe by Bambi Smyth

8 October 2015

My friends thought I was mad heading off on a three month adventure to find true love, but I'm the optimistic type, and was sure I'd find myself an exotic Mr. Right lurking behind a citron presse in Paris, or a camel in Oman.

Bambi Smyth

75 dates later, across 22 countries, I'd certainly found myself some exotic men, but sadly Mr. Right was not amongst them. Indeed, I'd managed to find a whole bunch of Mr. Wrongs, Mr. Weirds, and Mr. Downright Rudes.

In Brazil, after I'd paid the hefty restaurant bill for us both, Paulo reached across the table and took even more money out of my purse to leave a bigger tip. Then tried to get me into bed.
In Hungary, Andras, who was kindly cooking me a meal in his apartment, mentioned that if he had another career, he "would quite like to be a serial killer", because he "liked chopping, and was very neat".
In England, Ben (a hedge fund manager), implied that I was stupid no less than 35 times over the course of the dinner, and that the idea for the book I was writing, 'Men on the Menu', "was puerile".
In Monaco, a very smooth guy who bought me a drink at Café de Paris turned out to be a gigolo, and then tricked me into buying him dinner in the most expensive restaurant on the planet.
In the UAE, Nassar, in traditional Arab attire, spent the evening telling me about his six current girlfriends, (his very own little harem…), and how much he enjoyed "sexually experimenting" with them. Nice.

But - all was not lost! If you kiss enough frogs, you'll eventually find your Prince Charming.

Quite literally. In Naples, I ate pizza with Pasquale - a real-life prince - who really was charming, as well as refined, amusing, elegant, and owned a rather nice little castello in the foothills of Naples, replete with peacocks.
In Germany, the very handsome and rather naughty Jens (twenty years my junior) made me remember how much fun it was to be young.
In France, the ever-so-sophisticated and attentive Olivier demonstrated why Paris deserves its title of World's Most Romantic City. Ooh la la!
In Russia, the delightful Artashes (who part owned one of the biggest banks in Eastern Europe), made me feel like I was in a James Bond film, what with his limo-driving chauffeur, bullet-proof windows, two mobile phones for 'privacy', and constant watching of the door in the restaurant, as if he expected masked men to burst in and assassinate him. (Which, thankfully, they didn't.)
But the very best date by far, and who would have been Mr. Right if he hadn't been married, (sob), was Stefano in Italy. If I had to describe his personality as a food or drink, (which I did with all the men I dated), would be a doppio espresso coffee. And why? Because he was hot, rich, intense, refined, full of flavour, and gave me heart palpitations!