I have only recently joined here, I don't really have a clue about perfume yet, and I'm just starting to experiment and gain an overview. Since I am enthusiastic about cocktails, rum, and good cigars on one hand, and I have also been to Cuba and greatly appreciate this country, Czech & Speake - Cuba was very early on my testing list. Based on the previous comments here and after my first test spray, I wouldn't have thought that this would be the fragrance I would write my first comment about. But since "Cuba" has divided me just as much as it seems to have divided my predecessors, and since I should actually know what I'm talking about regarding the included themes, I'll give it a try!
First of all: If you're planning to go to Cuba and are now deterred from vacation because of the scent: You can fly there without worry! ;)
During my first test on paper strips, I was shocked, initially turned away in disgust, and had a moment of difficulty getting the "scent" out of my nose.
A few days later - ensuring that I wouldn't have to see anyone that day and with the goal of sitting on the balcony anyway - I dared to spray the scent on my arm. At the same time, I also moistened another test strip.
"Cuba" starts on paper as well as on skin very aggressively and practically jumps at you.
Rum? Yes, bright, alcoholic, young rum - not soft, long-aged, or even sweet rum, as you often find here.
Mint? Yes, but sharp mint, like you find far too often in supermarkets and also in cocktails of average bars in Germany - not as soft, round, and full as "real" Mentha Nemorosa, which is what belongs in a well-made mojito.
Lime? Yes, unfortunately also as much as you find in mojitos in Europe.
Tobacco? Although I know tobacco in all its ripeness stages, from the field to the finished cigar, I also rather agreed with the impression of "fecal note."
So much for the beginning of "Cuba."
At this point, a brief interjection: Mojitos in Central Europe are often far too sugary and lime-heavy and hardly differ from Caipirinhas. All the mojitos I drank in Cuba - and there were quite a few - were significantly more rum- and mint-heavy with a much fresher and lighter taste. This makes them a bit more alcoholic. However, this is well compensated by the much rounder and more intense mint, which is not as sour as the only subtly added lime juice.
But: In none of the other fragrances I have tested so far do I find the difference between the lingering aggressiveness on paper and the development on my skin greater.
On paper, "Cuba" remains almost as it started - the scent naturally loses intensity but remains uneven and, for my perception, unbearable. Does Cuba smell like this? Fortunately not! But on the skin, at least on mine, there is a clear development:
The fecal note at the beginning - I consciously stick to this description from my predecessors - becomes significantly more pleasant and eventually disappears. In the meantime, I feel reminded of tobacco that has not yet finished fermenting. It smells like a drying shed that has just recently been stocked with freshly harvested tobacco. There, you also have a distinct ammonia note as a parallel to a wastewater treatment plant, yet you can already tell that it is tobacco. This was the case with "Cuba" on my skin after maybe 30 minutes. By this time, the scent is still far from the smell of a finished, aged, unlit cigar, which is usually perceived as pleasant even by non-smokers. This note undergoes further development, and only after a good hour did I also have the association with pleasantly soft, but strongly dark-smelling, finished cigar tobacco.
The rum quickly takes a back seat, as does the lime with its citrus notes, and the mint gradually becomes rounder and softer, milder, as it should be. However, all of this remains present, so the scent does not become truly dark and heavy but stays on the fresh, summery side. Together with the tobacco, it creates a truly extraordinary, exciting combination!
Conclusion: Does Cuba smell like this? No! Although... yes, a little bit. After a good hour on the skin, I no longer say "thank goodness," but my opinion about the scent has changed, compared to the beginning of the scent, just as the scent on my skin has changed. "Cuba" skillfully picks up numerous themes that are omnipresent in Cuba, which you can clearly recognize and perhaps even come to love after some time on the skin.
By the way: The notes "old-timer exhaust," "rice with beans," "sea," and the wonderful landscape of Cuba are left out by Czech & Speake. ;) I also couldn't find any sweat in the scent.
Now that I have enjoyed the approximately eight-hour longevity of the scent twice, I want more of this stuff than just the small sample. You just have to get through the first good half hour. Eleven hours on a plane to Cuba take longer, and the seat neighbors might smell worse. And I'm throwing the paper away. "Cuba" belongs on the skin. In summer.