FOLLOW THE SCENT

Waft out of the master cabin, kaftan and all, a trail of rich amber and vanilla following you to the sun deck. MFK’s addictive golden elixir is as indulgent as the ten-course dinner you put on your preference sheet.

Show off? Moi? Being the life and soul is just part of your personality. You breeze through brunch the next day with little more than a splash of refreshing neroli and orange blossom, and shine brighter than the sun.

Vacations are basically your vocation. If you’re not checking in, you’re checking out where’s next. But orange blossom and cardamom in the air always bring you back to Madrid.

After the fifteenth person stops you in the street, being asked what perfume you’re wearing starts to get tiring, you know? You list the spicy pink pepper, the bergamot and the patchouli. “Yes,” you say, “the perfect mix of earthy and musky, exactly.”