№ 02 - L'Air du Désert Marocain by Tauer Perfumes

Note: I wrote this over 2 years ago.

First of all, I was extremely curious about this fragrance, because of the hype that almost everyone feeds and especially because of the journey that this perfume supposedly provides: transporting us to the gates of the Sahara desert. This curiosity of mine came essentially from the fact that I have spent a large part of the last decade wandering alone, and sometimes getting lost .... literally, in the desert, mainly in Algeria but also in other North African countries. If it wasn't for this pandemic situation, I'd be there right now.

But I was also prepared to hate L'Air du Désert Marocain, because my sense of smell is equivalent to that of a newborn baby in terms of fragrances and I knew I would hardly be prepared for a more challenging, more mature and complex perfume.

So yesterday was LDDM day. After 4 days with rhinitis, around 6pm, with my nose already ready to work and the temperature in the street already a little lower, I decided to go out with my son for a walk in the woods behind my house, in short sleeves but dressed with Andy Tauer perfume on my arm.

I barely sent out the spray and an intense, bitter and slightly animallic smell invaded my nostrils. What a stench! It seemed as if they had dipped my arm in a milkshake of bitter green leaves mixed with cumin and added some hair from my dog.

But soon the smell changed and became much more pleasant and familiar. I tried to grasp the feeling of being hit in the face with some desert hail, but the dry, dusty environment that everyone talks about never triggered in my brain.

However, something was reminding me of Algeria but I didn't understand what. Until it clicked. LDDM smelled Chorba Zitoune to me.

It was then that I began to travel in my memory, returning to a Friday in September 2012. On that day, I had made a risky decision that came to start many of my adventures in Algeria. At that time, it was unthinkable for a foreigner to drive a car in the country. As tourism was completely closed in Algeria, the few foreigners who ventured there were for business meetings. The clients always put a car and driver at the visitor's disposal. In my case, it was the same. In 2011, tired of being driven from point A to point B, for hundreds/thousands of kilometres, without being able to make the detours and stops that I wanted, I decided to rent a car. I managed to get them to let me drive the car around the country, but at the first police barrage I came across, they always made me ride escorted by police mounted on motorbikes, who took turns from barrage to barrage, as if I were a head of state. And for a year, it was always like that. Until that famous Friday in September 2012. On that trip of mine to Algeria, I got an official letter from my best client - and one of my best friends in the country these days - asking to let me drive without a police escort. As this client of mine owns the second largest economic group in Algeria, the letter was respected by all the police officers checking me out. 

On Friday, a day of religious rest in Algeria, I hit the road from Biskra (known as the town at the gates of the desert) to the north. I took the recently inaugurated expressway but after several near misses, including one where a truck ran me off the road, I decided to take a short cut. It was a risky move on my part, for at that time no GPS system had the maps of Algeria, and I had to be guided by a paper map, already quite out-of-date. And so it was for a few hundred kilometres, practically without seeing anyone until I reached a small village. As it was already 2pm and I still hadn't had lunch, I decided to look for a restaurant. Restaurants in Algeria are usually a terrace with a guy with a grill and not much else. The only restaurant in the place was no different. I sat at a table in the middle of all those bearded men, fresh from their second prayer of the day (Dhur), who kept staring at me insistently. The waiter came over and asked me something in Arabic. At that point I knew little Arabic and tried French and English, but to no success. As I understood that he must be asking me what I wanted to eat, I simply pointed to the plate at the next table. The waiter then asked "Chorba Zitoune?" and I said yes. Then they brought me a very thick broth, but without meat, with carrots, lots of green olives (zitounes) and quite spicy. I really enjoyed the dish - I was also very hungry - as it was rich in flavours and not at all acidic due to the green olives.

L'Air du Désert Marocain reminds me of that dish. The vetiver is what probably reminds me of the green olives, the thick, spicy broth reminds me of spices and the carrots gave that sweet touch that this perfume has.

In short, the perfume did indeed take me on a journey. But contrary to what I expected, it didn't take me to the desert that I know so well, but to a plate of food that I've eaten several times since that day. It is a good memory, because it was on that Friday in September 2012 that I started to really get to know Algeria and its incredible landscapes, its countless ruins of the civilizations that passed through that region throughout the centuries and that I was lucky enough to be able to admire, almost always completely alone.

I didn't fall in love with the perfume, but I wasn't expecting that either. I'll give it a few more chances after smelling other niche perfumes and see if I like smelling chorba zitoune. Anyway, I think if I come to really like the perfume, it will be something I will use more at home so I can be smelling it on my skin throughout the day. I don't think it's a fragrance that appeals to many people outside this world of perfume lovers.
As for the performance, I was really surprised, because despite being an EDT, this morning I could still feel the perfume on my arm. And with the saltiness of my sweat, it even reminded me a bit of the desert already.

PS: Now, L'Air du Désert Marocain is one of my favourite perfumes.