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05/03/2021
KStrobel
3 Reviews
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KStrobel
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The sound of the sea, olive groves and the Italian lady
Last year I travelled through Italy in October. Very important to me was a stop in one of my favorite towns: Lerici on the Ligurian coast. The small picturesque village turned my head in my teen years. Now, many years later, it was still at least as beautiful in its bay. Hundreds of fishing boats gently rocking back and forth. Towering above it all, the Castello, perched on top of the cliff. The town is built into the hillside, like so many in the region. If you leave the square directly at the harbour, you have to climb up narrow stairs and steep alleys. Colourfully painted houses, clotheslines stretched metres high. Bed sheets fluttering in the wind.
I was on the way up. A short time before it had rained, the air was steaming. I turned the corner, still on the climb, and.... there it was. A scent that made me forget the exertion for a moment. In my mind immediately the image of a not-so-young Italian woman, still wrapped in her towel after a bath, tearing open the window to let fresh air into the bathroom. I look around, searching for the window, which I assume is the source of the scent. But I can't find it.
The scent is now just a whiff. I keep walking, turning the next corner. There it is again! Stronger this time. Like the waves crashing against the wall down in the harbor, it comes at me, ebbs away, then breaks over me again. I look down the alley in front of me - and spot an Italian woman walking ahead of me at the end of the path. It must be her!
I'm dying to know what that scent is, so wonderfully classy and floral, and so wonderfully fitting for this little town. I catch up with her, speak to her in Italian. She looks a bit puzzled at first (I don't speak well), then she laughs and says she bought the perfume in a perfumery in the neighbouring town. I'm almost disappointed, assuming it's a product that might only be available there. The work of a small local perfumer. But then she says "Guerlain", "Champs-Élysées". And I know that's it. The perfume I've been looking for for so long. The perfect scent for me. That envelops me like a fluffy white towel after a long bath. That smells like Lerici, like lush flower bushes in alleys steaming with summer rain. The next day, in Florence, I find the scent again. I spray it on and let myself be enveloped in that flowery-sweet cloud.... Since then it has accompanied me - and the memory of Italy and this little town above the sea.
I was on the way up. A short time before it had rained, the air was steaming. I turned the corner, still on the climb, and.... there it was. A scent that made me forget the exertion for a moment. In my mind immediately the image of a not-so-young Italian woman, still wrapped in her towel after a bath, tearing open the window to let fresh air into the bathroom. I look around, searching for the window, which I assume is the source of the scent. But I can't find it.
The scent is now just a whiff. I keep walking, turning the next corner. There it is again! Stronger this time. Like the waves crashing against the wall down in the harbor, it comes at me, ebbs away, then breaks over me again. I look down the alley in front of me - and spot an Italian woman walking ahead of me at the end of the path. It must be her!
I'm dying to know what that scent is, so wonderfully classy and floral, and so wonderfully fitting for this little town. I catch up with her, speak to her in Italian. She looks a bit puzzled at first (I don't speak well), then she laughs and says she bought the perfume in a perfumery in the neighbouring town. I'm almost disappointed, assuming it's a product that might only be available there. The work of a small local perfumer. But then she says "Guerlain", "Champs-Élysées". And I know that's it. The perfume I've been looking for for so long. The perfect scent for me. That envelops me like a fluffy white towel after a long bath. That smells like Lerici, like lush flower bushes in alleys steaming with summer rain. The next day, in Florence, I find the scent again. I spray it on and let myself be enveloped in that flowery-sweet cloud.... Since then it has accompanied me - and the memory of Italy and this little town above the sea.
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