Grandpa was a stern man. Tall, strong, weather-beaten, dismissive and harsh in appearance. At least that's how he seemed when you didn't know him. To me, he was always open and warm-hearted as I sat on his lap and he told me stories, his face deeply furrowed like the waves on the sea. Huldufólk doesn't only exist on land, he said, there are also magical creatures in the sea, lost kingdoms and many a hidden secret. He told me many stories in his hut with the leaning trees in the garden and a view of the fjord and I knew that they were not just stories, they were true, they could really happen. And so he also told me the story of the fisherman who went out to sea and didn't come back, but became something else there, a creature of the sea.
And what can you become? I have always asked.
Anything you want, from the smallest crab to the biggest fish, Grandpa answered.
And what do you want to be?
I, said Grandpa, will become a big, gray whale.
Those were the happiest days of my life.
But as the days got shorter, Grandpa also got thinner, narrower, appeared smaller and smaller, imperceptibly at first, but at some point it was clear that something was wrong, even if none of the adults told me anything. Otherwise, everything was the same as always, the stories were told in a somewhat brittle voice at best, but the smoke from the coal stove was in the air, just like the damp earth and the dark green of the grasses. The smell of the sea was just a whiff here, like the distant cry of a seagull.
And when Grandpa said goodbye one day and went back to sea, I suspected that he wouldn't come back, that he would stay there. I held him tight, didn't want to let him go, cried, but you can't stop nature. And so Grandpa went to sea and never came back. The only thing that came back was a lifebuoy, which I found on the beach months later and which now, all these decades later, hangs above my fireplace. And when I look out to sea today and see a whale in the distance, I always wave back and think of Grandpa.
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Flotholt starts as an Icelandic forest, with gnarled, crooked conifers, but also a few fresh notes of citrus fruits, which are certainly not native here and therefore appear somewhat muted and restrained. There is also some smoke, but it is not very dense, more reminiscent of fog. The smoke is absolutely tarry, even though birch tar is not mentioned in the pyramid, and is initially dark. The whole thing is quite spicy (probably due to the seaweed) and there is also a slight salty note. In my opinion, this is not directly aquatic and is reminiscent of the good initial phase of Oud Minerale, but is much harsher. I would also say there is a portion of vetiver in here; the dark, spicy, slightly earthy variety.
The smoke quickly fades, but never disappears completely. This reduces the tension in the fragrance somewhat, but makes it more pleasant for me. Musk is also recognizable. It is warm, humanizing, like slightly sweaty skin (it is more pleasant than it sounds). Towards the base, everything becomes increasingly softer. There is still a hint of ambergris, but nothing much changes. Fischersund uses synthetic fragrances, sometimes very aggressively. However, this is not the case here; it is only towards the end (after 6-7 hours) that you suspect that the woods are not entirely natural. After 7-8 hours, the story comes to an end.
A successful fragrance that would probably be a little too strenuous for me to wear, although the brand has much more strenuous fragrances in its portfolio. Thanks to Gandix for the short trip to Iceland!
Air accord
Kelp
Salt
Citrus notes
Musk
Smoke
Ambergris
Leather
Cypress
