Torino, Northern Italy, April 2012. A city of just over 2 million inhabitants, and home to beautiful architecture, refined cuisine, and the infamous 'Shroud of Turin'.
To me, as a ten year old bookworm, newly engrossed in the exciting Adventures of Tintin, this was the ideal place to dress up in the attire of a young reporter, and to start dreaming. Inspired by Hergé's bande dessinées and the grungy charm of northern Italy after a week of exploring with my family, it was around this time I decided I wanted to write. I wanted to find stuff out and share it. I started to tell stories of the places I went, armed with fresh curiosity, in the footsteps of my favourite ginger-quiff-sporting Belgian journalist.
Almost ten years on, I may have swapped the trench coat and cap for harem pants and a mullet, and whilst I haven't yet uncovered some global syndicate or Italian mafia worthy of Hergé's brushstroke, I am still inspired to observe and absorb, scribble and scrawl what I see. I hope to carry on doing this for a long time.
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