There is nothing cold about this scent. It’s a warm touch on the shoulder, as you are entangled in green vines of black licorice. The spices and gentle sweetness will warm your surroundings. The is climate change for your skin.
Those moments when scent lingers longer than expected. Warmth and bright new mornings collide when passersby glance, noting something different in the air. Eyes close as they take in dark-roasted coffee, vanilla and amber. Their usual route is abandoned; it’s you they follow.
It’s the smell of a walk through Old Havana in the evening, from the Hotel Sevilla to the Caseon del Tango for a dance lesson with Ketty and Felix. Wafts of coffee and tobacco, sweet, sugary desserts cooked with baskets of oranges and mangoes. The scent of peaches beginning to turn overripe, and citrus peel going squishy in the gutter. From a dark doorway a handsome man in white whispers, “Do you want a Cuban boyfriend?” and I speed up a little, squeaking “No! Thankyou very much for asking all the same!” And then the old Cubanos at the tango club greet us with smiles, songs, rum and kisses.