The year is 1135 BC. A group of brave men, led by King Odysseus, set out on their journey home after a fierce battle for Troy. War drawn. The worst seemed to be overcome, but dangers lay before them that no one could have foreseen.
Well well. My journey has not been 3000 years and nobody will write a book about it. Anyway. As in Homer's epic, I was to be sent on a journey. A journey that would take many years, seemed endless and entailed numerous imponderables.
My journey was in search of the ultimate aquatic. Not so easy when you consider how comprehensively this topic can be interpreted. I limit myself here largely to rough, salty sea scents and ignore classic summer scents.
With many fragrances of this category, which I was able to test, a question arose again and again.
"I wonder if these scents are wearable." I say, why not?
"Yeah, brackish water smells interesting, but as perfume?" Sure!
As long as I feel secure and perfume makes me reminisce - a smile elicits from me and with every sprayer this youngster flames up enthusiasm, as if Christmas morning was coming and the presents are about.
But this should not turn out to be the only adversity of my adventure.
I also met sirens.
In the form of perfumery saleswomen, who whispered all kinds of beguiling things into my ear. And for a short time they managed to cloud my senses.
With Seathalasso, for example. But then I succeeded in freeing myself from the claws of the beast and, stumbling out of the Douglas store, regaining my senses. Algae yes, but too synthetic, too citric, more like an industrial port. I'd rather go to sea. Anchor lifting was also my motto at Toni Gard's Seaside. Sure, it was fresh and summery, but wouldn't do justice to my demands. And a bride in every port? No way.
Continuing the trip a green coast lay before me. Green Irish Tweed. Ingenious companion for autumn, but it doesn't remind me of beach. I guess at some point he'll come into my own collection, too. There was land, but the wrong port. So get back in the boat and get out of Ireland.
I wanted to set the sails and what was missing? The wind! Even Acqua di Portofinos Sail can't change that much. Something one-dimensional and somehow the air was out.
I rowed off and had covered a few miles on the high seas. Land wasn't in sight. I was fishing. Finally there was fish between my gills again, I was emaciated, exhausted, almost starved to death. What species was on the menu? Sel Marin. Delicious, but not quite fresh, the fish.
Despite the refreshment in between I lost my balance at times and fell off the boat. When I lifted myself over the railing again, a smell rose to my nose, I smelled like Santa Eulalias Marinis.
Shelter island Wilde bestie, quickly pulls the teeth
Log entry day 452. I was stranded again, my God. Why me? Well. Land, after all. How the hell did I end up in the Caribbean, anyway? Virgin Island Water. Brilliant. Nevertheless I repair my boat with wood from the coconut palm and throw myself into the current again. I wasn't home, after all.
The principle of chance throws me directly into the arms of Medusa. Medusa has many faces and yet I avoided eye contact. Never look her in the eye, you petrify. A face of Medusa is Silver Mountain Water. If one does not remain vigilant, one loses oneself somewhere in the boredom between heart and base. I almost looked, but then I closed the sack. Not interested.
Then there's Poseidon. Poseidon just doesn't want to disappear into the depths of the sea. No, Poseidon is omnipresent. With Poseidon everyone has to compete and Poseidon becomes a constant companion. He always takes you back to the sea, even if you want to stay dry.
His pseudonym? Acqua di Sale.
Aprospos dry. My mind was set on shore leave again. Recharge your batteries. Stock up on supplies. And that's when I found her. An island I didn't want to get off. Nymph Island. They wanted to keep me there. They bezirsten me. The smells so beguiling. Paradise has a name - Ichnusa.
But I left. Decided against this place. Maybe someday I'll come back, if the budget allows it.
In the meantime, I could no longer count the days at sea. I think I got seasick. I must have seen 3,000 sunrises but I never saw homeland. The morning dawned, a new day dawned and reckoning with another disappointment. Am I dreaming?
*Salina by Laboratorio Olfattivo
Euphoria! Relief! I see land! I call land ho! Nobody hears, I don't care. This is home! I was home.
The heart note is reminiscent of Acqua di Sale. You remember? In contrast to the latter, Salina develops and ventures in coastal areas. The prelude citric and somewhat biting, in between short wood. Then the pure sea water waves high and the vanilla pulsates softly in the base. A closer look almost makes you smell like sunscreen at the sea. The shelf life is worse than with PR's salt water and the silage also flies away more quickly, but the scent is more balanced, due to the variety far less penetrating, even more surprising, holiday-ripe. Kind of absurd. Almost like package tourism in St. Tropez. Expensive doesn't always seem better.
In principle, all the fragrances I've mentioned here have done a very good job on the subject, but so far everyone has lacked magic. The magic of the beach. To me, Salina is. Everything I've ever looked for.
And yet, the next adventure calls again.
- During the Odyssey I also passed places that remained abruptly unexplored terrain. Montales Sandflowers is as much a part of this as Louanges Profanes No. 19. Well, these are scents for another story. - No end in sight
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