Timbuktu

Pre-2016 Timbuktu, I *love* you. I blind-bought a bottle in 2015 as a birthday gift to myself. It was an expensive gamble: at the time, I had tried several of L’Artisan’s more feminine perfumes. None of them had been quite right, but I was intrigued. There was something compelling about the way the house approached perfume, even if I hadn’t yet found a L’Artisan that worked for me. I knew I liked woods and orientals best, and despite the polarizing reviews, I paid $100 real American money dollars for a bottle of Timbuktu based on the testimony of anonymous people on the Internet. It was the most expensive perfume I’d ever bought. I didn’t love it at first. It was *weird*. Like nothing I’d ever sampled. There is something about the deep resiny base that is almost old-fashioned. Though I’d tried quite a few niche perfumes before Timbuktu, I hadn’t smelled anything quite so classic from a niche house. At first, I thought it smelled too mature, and too masculine, yet after a few wears, I could not keep myself away from it. I’ve had plenty of “signature scents” before, but pre-reformulation Timbuktu is *my* scent. This is not a perfume that I wear. This perfume *is* me. It suits me on girl days and boy days and all the days in-between. It suits me in spring, summer, fall, and winter--and smells different every season. In the spring I smell like a lioness in heat lazing on a warm rock in the savannah. In the summer, I am a priestess wandering through a mythical bazaar, reeking with incense and ancient ritual. In the fall, I smell like the smoke from fire that burns burns at night on a safari, musky with the scent of something savage lurking in dark. In the winter, Timbuktu is festive without smelling Christmas-y; it’s the smell of the incense the shepherds bring the boy king. The opening is a blast of peppercorn and resins and dry, yellow grass. It’s a little sharp, uncomfortable but not unpleasant. The best way I can describe the feeling is “dramatic tension”. It smells like opening the door to an ancient tomb. You know there is going to be something waiting in the dust and the dark, but you don’t know what. I can’t pick out the mango or the karo-karounde flowers... they don’t seem to come up on my skin. I’m not sure I would recognize karo-karounde (I don’t think I’ve smelled it elsewhere), but there really is nothing gourmand or floral about Timbuktu to my nose. The frankincense, myrrh, and papyrus smoke are the most prominent notes on my chemistry. For some reason, the peppercorns last a long time for me, 3 hours or so. I can smell the vetiver here, but it’s weird, nothing like the green or earthy-green scent I associate with vetiver. This smells like a field of vetiver that wasn’t harvested before the dry season came. It’s vetiver that has dried out in the desert sun and also the scent of the soil turning to dust beneath it. For a perfume with so many heavy notes, there is something effervescent in Timbuktu’s nature. That effervescence doesn’t “sparkle” like an aldehyde or “bubble” like champagne. Rather, it flickers like a mirage that never gets closer than the horizon or black wisps of incense smoke fading into an endless blue sky. This is the most powerful L’Artisan fragrance I’ve experienced. The pre-2016 version lasts 10 hours on my skin, though it does fade quite a bit. In hair and clothing, it will last days. Sillage is pretty big at first blast, but then the fragrance settles. It has about a radius of a couple of feet for the first 4 hours of so, then settles closer to the skin as it dries down. People will *notice* this, but not everyone will like it. Although I met my best perfume buddy when she complimented me on this. I immediately gave her a spritz on the condition that she let me smell her (it was much more ladylike on her skin!), and thus a friendship was born. She warned me that L’Artisan had changed packaging and reformulated, but her nose is much more refined than mine, so I didn’t worry too much about it at the time. Still, when my 2015 bottle began running low, I got a decant of the new bottle just to be safe. In one spray, my heart was broken--this was not Timbuktu. Post 2016-Timbuktu smells similar to the real thing, close enough that it gives me Pod Person syndrome: this calls itself Timbuktu, and it kind of resembles Timbuktu, but it doesn’t have the same walk or the same inflection in its voice. It’s an imposter. This Timbuktu is but a ghost of itself. It’s a skeleton wrapped in an ancient, tattered cloak, wandering the desert in search of its lost soul. L'Artisan Parfumeur, you murdered a masterpiece. I now know what it is like to lose a beloved fragrance to a bad reformulation: it's like mourning. I look at my bottle slowly getting lower and I know that there exists only a finite amount of the true Timbuktu left in the world. That makes this juice all the more precious, and I am putting off buying bike parts for six months to invest in a few bottles of the real thing, bottles that I will make last as long as I can. Even then, when it’s all gone and there is no more, Timbuktu will haunt my nostrils until the day I die. Damn, I am glad that I purchased a few L’Artisan scents before the mass reformulation. This reformulation is so bad that I’m not only in mourning for Timbuktu, but also for the L’Artisan fragrances I did not get to experience beforehand: Mechant Loup, Patchouli Patch, Dzing!, Dzongkha, etc. Part of me really wants to try the old formula of those too, but I'm afraid I'll get hooked on yet another dead fragrance and then have to write another 1000 word obituary for a *smell*....

Fragrance houses and their marketing teams are adept at conjuring perceptions of a scent by giving it a name with exotic associations. Places such as Zanzibar, Madagascar, Marrakesh, Cairo, and Babylon... all names that carry the promise of ancient mystery, excitement, and adventure. And so it is with Timbuktu. Like its namesake, Timbuktu is enigmatic; it takes time to fathom its mysteries. It invites continual return and exploration. On my first experiences of the fragrance, I found it hard to pin down and find words to describe it. Sometimes it is woody; sometimes it is fruity and juicy; sometimes it is dry and dusty; and sometimes it is smoky. Often it is a combination of two or more of these aspects at the same time. What I can say with confidence is that I've yet to smell another fragrance like it, so, for me, at least for now, it is unique. Cardamom and pepper spice notes are evident in the opening but are quickly pushed into the background by sour mango and papyrus, which, in combination, give the scent a fresh, clean, airy, and uplifting feel. There is also something in the composition that is akin to the smell of freshly laundered linen drying in the breeze on a hot summer's day. Added to this is an unknown aspect, which could be Karo Karoundé, but I cannot say with certainty, as I have no experience of the flower/shrub. I do, however, think that this is what I am sensing, as the scent develops a rich floral character. Within about 15 minutes, that floral note is competing with the mango and winning. Further into the drydown, although the mango remains to a lesser degree, it is the papyrus and, I imagine, the Karo Karoundé that come to the fore. Added to that, there is a slight smoky incense note lurking deep within the composition, which I feel gives it a dryness while adding to the subtle sweetness of the fragrance. What I haven't touched upon yet is what lies at the pounding heart of this scent... vetiver and, to a slightly lesser degree, patchouli. Both notes are evident throughout the evolution of Timbuktu. Timbuktu contains a lot of contradictions in how I experience it over the course of several hours. Its heart is unchanging from start to finish, making it highly linear, but each time I put my nose to it, I am drawn to focus on a slightly different aspect. On my skin, Timbuktu lasts six hours or more. Sillage is moderate to strong, in my experience. Tested: 1 ml decant Seasons / occasions: Spring, summer, and autumn. Not suitable for formal occasions, but works well for informal days out, adventures, and casual evening meals. Key thoughts: Contradictions that work... juicy but dry, sweet but sour, dusty but clean. Vetiver and patchouli controlling it all. A beautiful, interesting, and exotic fragrance. Overall rating: 9.5/10 Buy full bottle: Yes

When I first applied this EdT to my skin I thought to myself that I was smelling a very pleasant modernized version of classic woody incense colognes. As time goes on, I'm finding it to be so much more than that. Part of the classic cologne impression came from the fact that after the first many minutes it seemed to fade very quickly, as if it was meant - like a classic cologne - to be sprayed in massive amounts as a freshen-up before bolting out the door for the day, quick to fade long before the midday. Second possibility was that I was anosmic to the accords themselves, which I was dearly hoping not to be the case. Where I ended up proving both of these impressions wrong was as I began moving around out of the car and my body temperature went up. This perfume needs heat and air. What happened next was stunning: the perfume took on a life of its own and began growing before my nose. I did another spray on clean skin a while after the initial sprays and did indeed conclude that the perfume fades almost to nothingness for a while, but then it blooms and blooms. The opening notes of green mango, pepper, and cardamom are backed by a silky-smooth incense accord that, as I said, gives it a reminiscent feeling of the classic cologne varietal. It dries down to almost nothing within an hour, at which points it starts releasing large wisps of silky myrrh, smooth and fresh vetiver, patchouli that smells of sweet topsoil, slightly vanillic and slightly sweet benzoin. I've used the word sweet twice in my description of this perfume, and I'm not happy about it. It's sweet but somehow not. Far from being sugary or syrupy, Timbuktu actually comes across as quite dry but the richness imparts a sweetness that is probably better described as a freshness. The resins of the incenses are fresh and sticky, not synthetic and sugar-added for effect; the vetiver is smooth and juicy fresh, not fetid or its natural sugars fermented; the spicy patchouli has not been dried out and concentrated into a spicy sweet earth bomb, but smells as if you stuck a shovel into the ground after a beautiful rain shower and turned up a deep layer. Timbuktu is supposed to represent Bertrand Duchaufour's travels to the ancient city where he witnessed the equally old African ritual of Wusulan, a practice by the women of Mali to create a perfume from the natural materials around them to help them seduce a man into courtship. Just like seduction and love are complex and multifaceted dances, Timbuktu reveals itself to be just as complex and multifaceted with each passing moment - and as equally mystical and compelling. Just when you think you've figured it out, it changes on you and lets another wisp of some warming, exotic, and seductive note into the air. This is a truly beautiful perfume.

I have been more than a couple of times in different regions of Africa - actually I was born in Africa. The entire continent is a journey of hot colors and warm scents. A perfumer must be really sure about his work when such a powerful name like Timbuktu is used. One cannot avoid to recall sand coloured buildings and palaces, colorful fruits, a goat here and there, smiling people, some imposed vivid green, and the omnipresent desert wind scent. Timbuktu - the fragrance - pierces your nostrils with an opening first moment of strong spices together with a tropical sweet fruit aroma. It's a hot perfume from the start. Later, spices become even enhanced with an exquisite peppery floral touch, along with the lingering scent of frankincense. As time passes you feel a second strong moment of resins along with the incense seasoned by a fainting sweet vanilla and an "African" dry, woody and smoky green. This balsamic green endures all through the drydown. The perfume is good enough for 6 to 7 hours of longevity depending on the formulation. Sillage is somewhat discrete but you will get your money's worth with a couple more sprays for a four~five feet scent radius with an hour and a half of projection. It's hot, it's green, it's dry, it's smoky, it's balsamic, it's woody. It's Central Africa, or even North Bolivia. I am testing the white label flask pictured here in Parfumo. How does Timbuktu faces my ratings? __________________________________________________________ Scent Opening: 8,5 (fantastic) Scent Drydown: 9.5 (close to perfection) Longevity: 7.0 (less than 7 hours in my skin) Sillage: 7.0 (4~5 feet sillage with 1.5 hours projection) Uniqueness: 9.5 (quite unique, evoquing some high standard vetiver fragrances, but different) Wearability: 9.0 (It's an all weather scent although a bit less appropriated in very cold days or nights) Versatility: 9.5 (all occasions except in the gym) Compliments: 7.0 (more a self pleaser than an attention grabber) Quality: 9.0 (above average quality ingredients) Presentation: 7.5 (€45,00 - 50 ml EDT) __________________________________________________________ Overall rating: 8,32/10.0 between 7 and 8 =above average; between 8 and 9 = recommended; bigger than 9 = don't miss it; Opinion: One of the best exquisite scents and I like it very much. A vetiver gem. Recommended? Yes, but only if you like the scent of strong woody & smoky vetiver. Blind buy worthy? No! Do try it before you buy it. Music: "Survival" by OSIBISA

I have been to different parts of Africa more than a couple of times - in fact, I was born in Africa. From Ceuta to the Cape, the whole continent is a journey of colours and warm smells. A perfumer has to be really sure of his or her skills when a name as powerful as Timbuktu is used in a perfume. One can't help but remember sand-coloured palaces, tow houses painted in various shades, a myriad of colourful fruits, a goat here... another one there, people almost always smiling and walking with a dancing rhythm, the many shades of green from the pale, yellowish dry green till the dense, dark ever-wet dark green. And to more than half of its population, Africa taught them to recognize the dry desert wind smell. Timbuktu - the fragrance - pierces our nostrils with an opening filled up with warm spices and carrying a twist of sweet tropical fruit. It is a scorching perfume right from the start. Later on, the spices intensify with an exquisite herbaceous and well-spiced floral touch, along with persistent incense and amber. As time goes by, one feels a second wave of resins and incense now tempered by sweet but faint vanilla, and a dry, woody, smoky green "African" vetiver. This balsamic green lingers throughout the dry down. The perfume holds up to 6 or 7 hours of longevity depending on the formulation. Sillage is somewhat discrete but you will get your money's worth with a couple more sprays for a four/five feet scent radius with an hour and a half of projection. It's hot, it's green, it's dry, it's smoky, it's balsamic, it's woody, it's vetiver. It's Central Africa but could also be North Bolivia or Chile In my opinion: One of the best exquisite scents I own. I do like it very much. It's a vetiver piece of fine art. Recommended? Yes, but only if you like the scent of strong woody & smoky vetiver. Is blind buy worthy? No! Do try it before you buy it. Music: "Survival" by OSIBISA

Yeah, it is really a masterpiece. And you know that when you smell something different that fits you well and gives you different facets during the lifetime, plus makes you feel better and complete. This is a incense scent with a green vetiver base and supported by fruity and slightly spicy elements. Sometimes I get berries, sometimes I get mango. I'm their website, they list red berries as a note but on Parfumo/Fragrantica they list Mango. I guess the mango association comes to a comparison of another scent that, to me, has a similar vibe and some similar notes. Un jardin sur le Nil by Hermès. They both have vetiver, fruity elements (mango) and incense. The difference is that the Hermès is more green and watery and a bit more citrusy. This, in contrary, is a bit more resinous and airy. I love both but i find this one a more grown up version of the Hermès. To me, it's a great summer / mild weather scent. It's refreshing due to the fruity facet and has character with vetiver and incense notes. I always prefer to wear vetiver scents during spring and summer time. They just work. And this one is no exception. Doesn't evolve much since the fresh fruity vibe starts to dry down a bit. But the sillage is superb. Incense is a very relaxing note. And this combination of fruits, resins (i detect a bit of myrrh), green vetiver and incense is perfect. Duchaufour is a master of incense scents and is capable of create this weird but great combo of fruits and resins (see Jubilation XXV). I just can't get enough of it. I can't see any imperfections on this one. The performance is good, spillage is perfect, smell it's outstanding and the price is decent for what you get. Overall, a must have fragrance, a classic and a perfect scent. 5/5

This one rules! I wore it a few days in a row to get a feel for how it performed at work, out to dinner, and on a light hike over the weekend. Very cool, bright and wet but not salty at all. Got lots of lightly floral fruity notes (i for sure get the mango skin) with a middle layers of spicy, papery wood, not really a heavy base of anything much at all. Maybe a little myrhh and a slightly musky patchouli, but the incense quality isn’t too burnt or treacly for me and the base sits very close to the skin. Was pretty stable/linear in its performance, except when I was hiking and my body temp was rising I got lots more spice notes, ginger, cardamom and cinnamon most prominently. Every so often I would get a bloom of the patchouli but it never lingered too long or projected out too far. Was very very pleasant and invigorating for a brisk fall walk. Pretty unisex tho maybe slightly masculine - mostly just in the ways it has a sort of chilly aftershave quality. I think anyone could wear this and there is def enough floral in here to read as femme in the presence of basically any other floral scented bath/body/beauty product. Maybe in the heat some of the deeper notes might be more prominent. Definitely try before you buy - but I think this one is largely pleasant and easy to like. I found the longevity to be good, alright projection for a few hours, then a close wear for the remainder of the day. Could smell it on my skin after 8 hours. This is generally exactly what I want for a perfume - tho it may be an underperformer for those who like a cloud. This brand is a tad expensive, but I just got 50ml for a pretty good price and v stoked about putting into the daily wearer rotation.

More than almost any other perfume I can think of, this one smells different every single time I put it on. There are some consistent components—a dry, papery wood note and an earthy swampy vetiver—but other than that, it's a constantly-shifting kaleidoscope. Sometimes astringent, peppery, almost sneeze-inducing; sometimes warm, gooey, resinous; sometimes floral, fruity, and lush. There's a signature Duchafour note of burning incense that comes in and out. It often smells buttoned-down and formal (the dry woody aspect), but also has a mysterious and playful quality (like a cat, playing and peeking out from around a corner) that defies this formality. I bought a full bottle of it, not because it was love at first sniff, but because I burned through most of a 10 ml decant (from a bottle purchased in 2013/2014—gold cap, light) in just one week trying to get a handle on it. I needed to be able to spray without abandon. This is one that makes people cry and scream about reformulation, but I really don't see their point. I've smelled the old gold-cap version and the new black-cap version and they are recognisably the same accord. I think possibly the mango note becomes funkier and more concentrated in older bottles, which may make some newer bottles smell more transparent and smoky-woody by comparison? Either way, do NOT listen the reformulation pessimists, I have a brand-new bottle of this (purchased directly from LAP in November 2022) and it smells fantastic. If you want to try it, get a BIG decant (5+ ml) with a sprayer, because you'll go through it and because you need to test it five or six times before it's clear what's going on.

A near-perfect fragrance, in my opinion, but only in warmer weather. In hot and humid weather it really shines, and seems to soak in the heat and moisture like a sponge. In cooler weather it loses its luster and smells like sugared peanuts. I have this same problem with vetiver in general. A sweet, spicy and smoky vetiver, basically, which transports to somewhere exotic. I suppose I can understand when people say it's feminine, because it doesn't have the typical man smell in it. I think of it as unisex, leaning masculine, due to the vetiver. One major problem is that this fragrance has been largely destroyed by reformulation. I highly recommend avoiding the newer, green bottle of this, and see if you can find the older clear glass bottle. There really is a significant difference, and I don't say that lightly. It was so much of a difference that I immediately bought two backup bottles of the old formula, the first time I'd ever felt inclined to buy a backup. The new formula seems watered-down, and lacks the smoky bite of the old one, which is what makes it special. Since I discovered this in recent years, it has become my most-used fragrance in the warmer months. It is very easy to wear, and smells very different from standard fare. The performance is just right, not too loud, not too soft, and manages to stick around most of a day with a few sprays. Very high recommendation.

Fantastic opening. On my skin, it starts with a smoky (incense) vetiver, accompanied by an atypical green note (papyrus I guess, maybe also the karo-karounde, but honestly I don't know what it smells by itself). I also can spot a hint a funky sweetness (sour mango and red pepper I guess, nearly animalistic) in the background, but it disappears quickly. After a little less than an hour the drydown develop the same vetiver note (slightly toned-down compared to the opening) and brilliantly enhanced by supporting notes (patchouli and benzoin I guess) without being individually identifiable. An ode to vetiver. Unfortunately, the beginning of the drydown also marks the transition to skin scent (with some occasional whiffs coming out from under the shirt), and like many other L'Artisan fragrances, performance could have been better. That said, since I wear mostly vetiver-centered fragrances during the day (thus at the office), low projection is a strength for me in this case: I can overspray in order to smell it well for myself without offending others around haha! (And anyways, the current price range for L'Artisan frags at online discounters is very reasonable for a niche house, so I will forgive!). Unisex, traditionally leaning towards masculine because of vetiver, but who cares? I can easily see an artistic-minded woman wearing this one. Highly recommended! 25+, Spring/Fall days

This was a blind buy for me after serendipitously stumbling across a vintage bottle. I had no idea what to expect, and I deliberately avoided reading anything about it before it arrived. My first spray left me a bit underwhelmed. Once the brief, fruity top notes evaporated off my skin, the whole thing seemed to vanish. I didn’t think any more of it, and it wasn’t until about an hour later when I started catching these soft wafts of soapy, woody notes. From there it just kept developing, opening up more and more as time went on, getting drier, woodier, and earthier as I moved around. Incense can go in a lot of directions, but here it’s cold and softly smoky, without any oily or resinous heaviness. The fruity opening is long gone by this point, and what lingers for hours is this classy, refined, very clean vetiver that sits close to the skin but occasionally pushes out little bursts as it goes through its stages. I really like this perfume, and I’m genuinely glad I stumbled across it. Would I pay the ridiculous prices I sometimes see it listed for? No. But as a collector of beautiful things, this is something I’m very happy to have in my collection, and I can definitely see myself reaching for it on days when I want to feel elegant and sophisticated without drawing too much attention.

[Note: The following is a review of the older, gold-capped bottle. As I understand it, but couldn’t personally say, the scent was reformulated (for the worse) when Puig bought the house and cheapened the packaging to those plastic-capped, black-and-grey bottles they currently use.] Timbuktu opens with this dried, almost leathery mango note—fruity but not juicy—wrapped in black pepper and dust. Then things get weird (in a good way). There’s smoke, but not churchy incense. Think travel-worn fabric, sun-scorched spice markets, and the faint memory of flowers that might’ve once been alive in your suitcase. It’s complex, but never dense. Some folks call it a chypre, others call it a vetiver incense scent. To me, it’s more like a prototype. You can smell the blueprint that later fragrances—especially stuff from Hermès—would refine and prettify. (There’s a reason why Bertrand Duchaufour and Jean-Claude Elléna are both credited with pioneering this style.) But Timbuktu keeps the grit. It’s less polished, more poetic. The drydown leans masculine in that airy woods-vetiver-patchouli kind of way, but I wouldn’t gatekeep this one. It’s too clever to be boxed in by gender. It’s restrained where it could’ve been loud, and that makes it all the more addictive.

Pink pepper incense myrrh vetiver cypriol Timbuktu is an almost absurdly over-intellectualised fragrance. I remember reading a blog post by Bois de Jasmin, painting a rather colourful image of cognac and champagne, so I remember receiving the sample years ago and being very perplexed. What I experienced was a austere vortex of resins and woods. What do I genuinely experience with Timbuktu? Upon application, pink pepper, some shimmer from unlisted citrus raw materials and almost immediately clean yet sharp vetiver, ”stretched out“ and sprinkled with peppery and spicy almost clove-like nuances. Soon after, myrrh and cypriol, Dechafeur‘s signature emerges, warm embers. A subtle, warm abstract sweetness breathes life into an otherwise surprisingly cool and radiant wood pyre. In its last breathe I sense musk and benzoin leaving a final trail on my skin. One of the most striking compositions out there, flawlessly assembled. What more is there to say, other than that there are at least 3 Timbuktu like fragrances that stand there own for different reasons: Paestum Rose, Jubilation XXV, CdG Kyoto

I've loved this for years. I got a decant of this around 2011 and used up the whole thing, despite having a boyfriend at the time who only liked amber and vanilla notes on me. I'm a woman, but I've never especially liked gourmands or florals. I finally bought a full 100ml bottle of it in 2017, the gold cap with blue wave label, and I don't think I paid more than $70 for it. The prices for that bottle now are eye popping. To me, the mango note in this isn't obvious. The first time I smelled this, I thought it smelled like one of the incense vendors at a Renaissance Faire and it was an instant love. It's mostly incense, vetiver and some light white floral notes on me, but it's not heavy at all. It's airy, dry, woody and a perfect fit for the dry summer climate I live in. It makes me think of wind, a white linen dress and a view of desert that goes on for miles. I would call this unisex, not masculine. It will last about 8-10 hours on my skin, and a full 24 hours on my clothes. I'm usually an undersprayer, and even still, my husband can smell it from 5-6ft away from me.

This is one of my favorite fragrances ever. I used to go to a lot of Renaissance faires, and the first time I smelled this, it smelled like walking by one of the incense carts at a faire. It was love at first sniff. I don't get much in the way of mango from this and wouldn't have been able to identify it as that until I read the notes. The pepper isn't extremely noticeable to me either. However, the floral, spice and fruit notes combine with the others beautifully to make this much more than a one-dimensional incense fragrance. It evokes a romanticized image of dry, dusty caravans, tents and incense. I have one of the earlier reformulations, the 100ml with the blue wave label that I scored for around $65 several years ago. I wear this often, but especially like it for summer days. I'm a woman and find it very unisex and easy to wear. I don't want my perfumes to walk into a room before I do, so I don't mind that it doesn't project loudly. I get some pretty decent hours of wear on my skin, and it will stay in my clothes for days. I hope this never gets discontinued!

Timbuktu is my new obsession, l'Artisan Parfumeur at their peak creativity. So there certainly is a link between TImbuktu und Dzogkha, this dry rooty parchment like vetiver, but where Dzogkha veers into an obscure earthy tea cold incense combo, Timbuktu features a robust myrrh note, resinous slightly sweet. I believe nargamotha forms some of the smoky earthy grittiness in the background together with the vetiver and I certainly detect the spicy cardamom and sweet amber undertones. What I also get but is not listed is an intense peppery note, possibly elemi adding a certain edge to it. Overall, similar to Dzognkha I find it quite odd, its an earthy mystical composition, sitting right on the line between spicy earthy aromatic and dry woody amber. It dries down more woody earthy and patchouli heavy on my skin than ambery, the sweetness being minimal compared to the other facets. Overall it is a stellar woody resinous vetiver fragrance, definitely worth sampling. Not the easiest scent to wear, but the performance is great on me.

If you have ever been in one of those etno shops, where they sell incense sticks, wood jewelry, harem pants and other stuff... the smell that hits your nose when you enter them...that is exactly this fragrance. But it has more... there is something fresh about it. It's not just a mix of smells, this is actually very complex. Even though i said it reminded me of etno shops, i wouldn't imagine this on some alternative person. No harem pants, no bare feet, no dreadlocks, no colorful scarves... This would be a sophisticated woman/man with a unique sense of style. I would wear this with a long black tight dress, african-styled golden jewelry, drastic makeup and high heeles on a special ocassion. What is really intersting about this perfume is that you can wear it in any weather... cold brings out the warm notes and hot the fresh ones. I still don't know if i like it, but a can't live without it anymore. 9/10

Evergreen/incense/mango goodness. It is much more than the above though. I wrote that just to give a short impression of how it smells to me. The mango-sweetened incense comes out strong on first application, but after about 2-3 hours the incense mellows, and there is an interesting sweet resiny smell with some vetiver. That smell stays around for another 3 hours. I'll have to compare this with Jardin sur le Nil to see how the papyrus and mango notes they have in common compare to each other. I think this fragrance will be loved by fragrance lovers as it is a quality fragrance and is different than others. But I don't think newbs will appreciate it. It's just different enough for the masses to get nervous...which is a shame because it is one of the best scents available. Try before you buy...a decant or sample should be enough. Just stay with it for more than 10 minutes. You'll be rewarded.

It's not a scent that pleases most people. It smells exotic, can't determine the location, all I know is that the story must not have happened in Europe. Timbuktu is roughly a combination of vetiver and dry wood, hard and dark. Papyrus here is tactile. I haven't actually touched it, but I imagine Papyrus is prone to yellowing and fragmentation and drying. It was previously used to draw some ancient Egyptian secretarial document. The scene is a barren kingdom, undergoing ancient rituals, communicating with the gods with smoke and praying for something. Timbuktu is intense, with distinct peppers and incense. I can smell mangoes, which are very sour, turquoise fruit. It feels primitive and masculinity. Since Timbuktu, I have been interested in Duchaufour and his perfume.

This just went into my Full Bottle Worthy list and unseated Polo Black as my main Mango Frag. Unique, quirky yet classy, somewhat formal spicy Mango-Vetiver. Love, love, love how weird this concoction is! Didn't really know what to make of it off the spray... its not your typical "love with at first smell" frag. Its more like a friend you didn't know you were in love with until you realize you actually want to spend all your time with her. She's not the prettiest, nor the sexiest, but she's on your mind all the time and you remember every little thing she says. I was sniffing my wrists all day without really knowing why... until I knew. Lasted all day too. Its 8 hours and counting and its still there as a slightly fading aura.