The Russian Bogdan, was 32, grew up in Moscow but was educated in the USA. He lived in Notting Hill, which wasn't far from my new flat in South Kensington.
Physically and on picture, Bogdan seemed to be slim, with dark blond hair and greenish eyes. We chatted on Tinder for a few minutes, exchanged numbers and the next thing I knew we were organising a date in Kensington High Street.
When I arrived, Bogdan was already sat at our table near the window and he saw me coming. He seemed to recognise me straight away as he stood up and welcomed me with a warm hug. I felt like a little infant. He was so tall! I bet he was at least a foot taller than me.
So, meet Bogdan: 6'5, an only child, born and raised in Russia until he moved to the US to attend Harvard University where he was a superstar student. He was now working in finance in the city after working New York, and had bought a two-bedroom flat in Notting Hill where (I quote) was ready to have a family.
Date No.1
Bogdan impressed me, as he was so elegantly dressed. I think he was the most elegant man I had ever dated in London yet Russian: slim-fit wool trousers, a printed square silk scarf carefully wrapped around his neck, and a Burberry embroidered shirt. Very chic!
Our date was very formal and clinical. I really liked Bogdan's profile, but that was it. We had no chemistry; I wasn’t encapsulated by his handsomeness, but he had an A+ profile – an ideal husband for Camellia, but something was missing for me with this gentleman. Maybe a bit of warmth?
Dinner over, Bogdan and I decided to share a cab. We gave both addresses to the driver but suddenly Bogdan invited me to have a few additional drinks at his to try a variety of Russian vodkas.
I wasn't enthusiastic and politely declined the offer. Yet, Bogdan decided that I wouldn't choose that night, and asked the driver to head to his. After a three-minute verbal fight, the driver and Bogdan sort of convinced me.
A few moments later, I was at Bogdan's gigantic flat in Notting Hill. In the living room, he had a selection of spirits from Russia. A drink or two (?) later, we both broke loose. We were, now, kissing passionately and ended up in his bed having the most bestial sex I had ever had in my life. We were like two bonobos who hadn't fucked for a century. Around 6am, I woke up all panicked and mega-ashamed: my first one-night stand at 32-year-old! A weird feeling took over my body; I felt sick, dirty, and more importantly I wasn't proud.
I know, I was meant to have fun and experience new things. But this one nightstand, I felt like a chicken being ravenously eaten by a starving carnivore and binned like uneatable bones. It was not a bad feeling. I decided to leave silently. Outside his building, I hailed a cab and went back home.
Date No.2
I decided to ignore all of Bogdan's texts. I wondered why he was calling me? He already got what he wanted! Why was Bogdan persisting? Plus, I didn't recall the sex being particularly great, so I didn't want to reiterate the experience. But after a few weeks of persistence, I was intrigued to know more and I decided to see him again.
Bogdan knew how to organise a date. He booked a table at Vinoteca in Soho, which is wine bar & restaurant serving pan-European food. The décor is chic yet humble with a selection of amazing wine coming from all around the world. I was in heaven.
I arrived right on time and for some reason Bogdan looked very different, and I couldn't explain why. We awkwardly kissed on the cheeks; to be fair, I wasn't sure what to do, as we had done more than kissing last time we met.
Bogdan wondered openly, "What happened between us? Why did you disappear?"
Embarrassed, I wasn't sure what to say. But I decided to be frank; "I've never had a one-night stand in my life. I suppose I panicked and..."
"You made it a one-night stand, Valérie. I wanted to see you again and I still do. I really appreciated you, both physically and personally. I think you're a fantastic person and I believe we matched well." Bogdan interrupted.
I looked at him. Bogdan seemed honest and really hurt. He touched my feelings, and I realised he was right – I had transformed that night myself. Why not, make it something real I thought to myself.
But, my feelings changed when Bogdan stopped the waiter inappropriately with his right hand abruptly asking, "When are we going to get the wine list?"
After a few seconds, the waiter brought the list. "Not a moment too soon!" said Bogdan hastily.
After Bogdan and I had chosen our wine, I called the waiter back and ordered it, along with our food. I was still haunted by Chris’s King Fu moves and I wasn’t ready for the Russian sequel to that.
Bogdan and I had a great evening, and I discovered his sense of humour and it was fun. When I questioned him about the predicament he had provoked with the waiter (I needed to be sure that he wasn’t a fighter), he simply replied that he disliked bad customer experiences, especially when accompanied by a beautiful lady like me, and Bogdan was just expressing his feelings towards it. We spoke about our past travel experiences and future plans, and one of them for me was a trip to Scotland the following weekend. Bogdan immediately proposed to join me, and I was very reluctant. Well, it was supposed to be one of my trips alone, but he insisted.
This was when it really hit me, I realised that I was scared to stay more than a few hours confined with a man in a hotel. I hadn't been on holiday with a man for two years.
And the idea was terrifying. What if I had nothing to say to Bogdan? More dreadful – I wouldn’t be able to smoke at all! I would be confined to a suite in Edinburgh and obliged to spend three full days with Bogdan. I told him that I'd think about it, but he was quick to ask, "Why?"
I blushed, "Well..."
I didn't have any valid reason. Well, okay, I did, but I didn't want to share it.
We finished our dinner; Bogdan insisted on paying the bill. I insisted on leaving a tip that Bogdan took back, "Are you kidding?"
“Come on, just for that little delay?”
“Not only that!”
“Please leave it for him," I begged. “It's my way to participate in this dinner.”
“You did! You smiled and made me laugh. You behaved like a perfect lady, and you are way too generous.”
He gave me the money back. We walked out, but I pretended to go to the lavatories and gave my tip directly to the waiter with an apologetic smile. Upon my return, Bogdan was talking to the manager and complaining about our waiter. I rushed Bogdan out and started talking about Edinburgh and him coming with me. That was such a good piece of news for him. He rushed to leave. We had a drink at Bob Bob Ricard just next door and we planned our trip together.
Well, Bob Bob Ricard was a way to Bogdan to introduce me to Russia. Shamelessly decadent, Bob Bob Ricard offers Russian food, cocktails, and drinks in a delightful art deco atmosphere. A pleasure for the eyes!
Back to my date, I recognised that for the first time since I had divorced, I was about to have a trip with another man and this time I wouldn’t be able to escape easily. I hoped God would help me to be a good girl!
Our trip - A series of dates
There we were – on the flight heading towards Edinburgh. We had met at Heathrow and eaten dinner at Gordon Ramsay's restaurant.
As we boarded our flight, Bogdan suddenly said loudly, "Thank God! I was happy to discover that you're not like those losers travelling in eco."
Embarrassed, I just replied, " Bogdan, I sometimes do. This is just a treat."
“I don't believe you; your little derrière is way too nice to have sat in economy.”
His remark made me smile but I just asked him to shut up as I wasn't the only one annoyed by the comment – all eyes were on us. It was disconcerting. I started to wonder if Bogdan was a social racist. Or just a bit of a snob? Now, I couldn't help but worry that I wouldn’t be able to bear three full days and three nights with him. I would learn it to my cost during the trip.
We arrived at Edinburgh Airport around 10pm that Thursday. We ordered a cab to the Missoni Hotel (now rebranded as the G&V Royal Mile Hotel) in the centre of the city. Edinburgh was beautiful, I couldn't wait to explore. It was June and the night was just warm enough – a nice heat accompanied by a gentle caressing breeze.
Edinburgh by night was romantically epic, with its walls protecting its inhabitants. I could tell straight away that the city had character; it was quaint with a mixture of carved stone and raw rock perched on top of old craggy rocks. I fell instantly in love with the light of the medieval maze of the Old Town.
Bogdan and I arrived at the hotel at 10:30pm. The location was fabulous – right in the middle of Edinburgh's historic centre, and everything seemed a short walk away.
We checked in, deposited our luggage in our fantastic room and decided to have a quick walk to the historic centre. Bogdan was so romantic and since he had been to the country before, he alimented our walk with a few historical facts.
Tired by our trip, we both had a shower and went straight to bed. Bogdan just kissed me tenderly good night and we slept holding each other.
Friday
I had a very nice sleep in Bogdan’s arms.
It lasted just ten minutes. I quickly felt uncomfortable strangled by his limbs. For the rest of the night I slept on the edge of the bed, as Bogdan was a natural human heater. He just made me sweat, and I never sweat!
I woke up to the sound of Bogdan’s alarm. I could have slept more. We had breakfast together and I learned so much more about Bogdan. First, he was a cinephile; he absolutely adored movies of all genres, including foreign, avant-garde, and traditional movies – he had seen them all.
Well, that is what he said. Bogdan spoke eight different languages, which impressed me, including French.
That morning, I also realised that Bogdan liked the sound of his own voice. He didn’t stop talking about himself. He bragged about his life, with his posh Russian attitude. He’d done this, done that, and when I was trying to share an experience of mine, he quickly ruined the memory of it by always trying to surpass my share. If I had won a million pounds on the lottery, he would have won ten million; if I had been a senator, he would have been a president; if I had bought a flat, he would have purchased a building. He always found a way to downgrade my experiences, in one way or another, no matter how amazing they had been. I wondered how I was going to survive the weekend.
By the end of the breakfast, Bogdan asked the waitress if she could order a cab for the Royal Yacht Britannia. She had the misfortune to reply that it wasn't her job, but that of the concierge. Bogdan yelled at her, "Are you fucking kidding me? I am paying a fortune to be at this hotel, and you're unable to pass a message to your concierge? I have to go myself?”
I was trying to calm him down, “Please, it’s embarrassing!”
"Sorry sir, I…"
“You what? Don't you know the definition of a five-star hotel? Don’t you know how to use a telephone? Are you too lazy?”
The waitress blushed and apologised a billion times. I did too, feeling for her. We disappeared a few minutes later in a cab taking us to the Royal Yacht Britannia.
In the cab I asked Bogdan why he felt the need to act like that. He barely replied and was almost proud of himself and the predicament he caused for that poor employee. I clearly stated to him that if he wanted to act like that, it shouldn't be when he was with me. He hadn't needed to shout at her in front of everyone. It was uncomfortable and unnecessary. Bogdan annoyingly laughed out loud for minutes, showing all his teeth to me. For the first (or maybe the second) time, I really wanted to slap my date in the face. I felt like I was dating evil. God, I just wanted to have a nice time with a nice date!
The visit to the Royal Yacht Britannia was a most enjoyable and pleasant one – the main reason being, we both enjoyed the complimentary audio guide. So, I didn’t need to hear Bogdan’s bullshit. We spent our morning there and had a quick lunch at Bistro Provence, a charming French restaurant with a warm, relaxed, and friendly atmosphere. Thank God, the service was up to Bogdan’s standard.
We ordered a cab to go back into town and visited the Royal Botanic Garden and Edinburgh Castle. We had a quick walk around the Scottish National Portrait Gallery and finished the day with the Scotch Whisky Experience. Oh, my! I don't drink whisky, but at this stage, I needed it. I'd been quiet all day, and that afternoon Bogdan had been wearing his Guide hat. He couldn’t stop speaking and commenting. He knew everything! I don’t know how I managed not to kill him. At the National Portrait Gallery, I politely asked him if I could enjoy some paintings in silence. The longest silence lasted five-and-a-half seconds. And his attitude towards the employees was disgusting; he asked a poor girl to clean the coffee off his £500 shoes that she had had the misfortune to drop on them.
I was surprised to find that Bogdan was very silent when drunk! I had a soundless dinner at the Mussel and Steak Bar. Well, I had a long monologue about the things I had enjoyed that day, and the whisky I had bought for my dad. Bogdan was attuned with an incomprehensible stare and smiled all through our dinner.
As if we hadn’t drunk enough, we decided to end the night at the Liquid Room, where we enjoyed a few more drinks and a lively concert in a buoyant crowd. I danced and chatted with a few girls and we went quietly back to our hotel.
Bogdan was drunk and feeling very sexual. I was drunk and very horny. We had sex like animals. I pushed him on the bed and I took the lead, kissing him all over. I unbuttoned his shirt, removed his trousers, and stripped in front of him.
Seconds later, we were sexing, and that’s what we did for the rest of the night. It was bad. I slept unsatisfied under Bogdan’s loud snores.
Saturday
I was completely spaced out and let Bogdan have breakfast alone. I didn't want to wake up and had a dreadful hangover. I had a quick phone conversation with my sisters and had to tell them that Bogdan was only alive because I was claustrophobic and couldn't live in prison. And the only thing I could think of was my return to London. Bogdan interrupted my discussion and I gave him the fakest smile I had ever given in my life. I had to hang up on my conference call.
I had a quick shower and we left the hotel very silently. I just hoped that Bogdan hadn't heard anything. But I was quickly reassured when Bogdan resumed his role of guide, commenting on the Palace of Holyrood House, the Holyrood Abbey and the Scottish Parliament. That day, I confronted him a couple of times on his dates and inconsistency. I realised that some of the details he pretended to know, were just bluff and smoke! I though it would calm him down. But, then I was having a Bogdan competition for the Best Cultivated Individual Award of the year. We were both fighting our turf, which ended up with us having really hot, violent and merciless debates.
The only highlight of the day was, when Bogdan and I decided to treat ourselves and dress up for the Angels of Bagpipes restaurant on the Royal Mile.
The Angels of Bagpipes will forever stay one of my favourite restaurants in the United Kingdom. It was delicious; the staff was fantastic and the food an absolute delight. Bogdan lost his tongue again and I was euphoric with that, as it also meant that I won a few debates. One of them included him being persuaded that Paul Boulangerie was founded by a Russian man. Bogdan googled the info, and he had to swallow his pride when he discovered that I was again right! Well, some people's egos are bigger than others.
When we left the restaurant, to go to the Shanghai Club to dance before our last day in town, Bogdan stopped at a table and spoke to a woman sitting with her husband. “Madam, excuse my frankness but your fake Gucci is an eyesore for this kind of restaurant. You…”
I wasn’t sure I had heard it right, but I just ran out of the restaurant. I didn’t want to be associated with him anymore. I hailed a cab and I heard him in the background, "Aren't you waiting for me?" I didn't reply.
When I arrived at the Shanghai Club, I decided to ignore Bogdan completely.
Big mistake!
Two men came over to me when I was on the dancefloor and Bogdan came straight after them, which started a fight. The security came right after all of them and kicked them out. The friends of the two men involved came after me, “Why didn’t you mention your fucking boyfriend? You bitch! ” I couldn’t bear it anymore. I ran out of the club. Outside, Bogdan was mega angry, and we started to have an argument in front of the bewildered queue. I caught a cab; Bogdan followed me. The atmosphere was glacial; we didn’t exchange any words.
At the hotel, I stopped at the reception, which Bogdan didn’t seem to question and walked to the lifts. I asked if they had another room available, but unfortunately, they were fully booked. I swallowed my anger and joined Bogdan in the room.
As soon as I had stepped in, Bogdan jumped on me, and we had this violent, outrageous, make-up sex. Still, it was bad. We both slept, and upon my awakening, his penis was still in me. It seemed like the more sex I had with him, the more I loved and missed my dildo.
Sunday
I couldn’t wait to get back to London and regretted picking a late afternoon flight. We spent the day in the Old Town visiting The Real Mary King's Close and the St. Giles Cathedral. We joined the Edinburgh Underground Ghost Tour and went shopping. When Bogdan tried to act like the guide this time. I flipped out and couldn't help but say, "Could you, just for once, shut up! Please, shut up!"
And because Bogdan was still going on and on," Shut the fuck up! S. H. U. T. space U. P!” I yelled. “Is it my accent that you can’t understand? Quiet! Please! I don’t give a fuck about your bullshit! You arrogant, smug, numbsk…”
Bogdan didn’t open his mouth again that day, but to say a glacial goodbye at Heathrow airport.
Bogdan was my last Tinder date. I deleted the app as soon as I arrived home.
A few months later
While I was queuing at Heathrow to get my cab back home, I stumbled across Bogdan. I had been on a party weekend in Miami with the Ladies and instantly regretted not booking myself a taxi straight from of my flight. He was just behind me with a beautiful and charming lady. I quickly turned away. I had a quick second glance to be sure it was him. The lady he was with was all freshened up, as if she had had a spa on her flight. I, admittedly, looked horrible, as I hadn't slept for three nights. I quickly put my sunglasses on, despite the rainy, windy and horrible London weather. I knew that the only place you could wear sunglasses on a rainy day was Knightsbridge, but this was a beauty and ego emergency. Yes! I felt like she was a Prada bag and I was a plastic one. I quickly got my cab and never saw him again. After that day, I always made sure I was all put together when coming off of any flight before seeing the daylight. Next!