MrHonest

There's just no way around it. Every time I smell this, that characteristic Fahrenheit violet leaf hits me squarely in the face. Only, it isn't exactly Fahrenheit..but more like Grey Quartz from Pascal Morabito - fresher, brighter and more synthetic. There are no clear citruses in the opening, but the nondescript greenness is unmistakable. Right from the rip, it's simultaneously lively and watery, yet soothingly comforting. The liquid colour is literally a perfect fit.

But within minutes of the opening, the masterful mishmash of cooling lavender and coumarin-y vetiver that comprise the mid and base surround the violet leaf like a hug from two considerate neighbours. The extra bulk is rather remarkably blended for the budget that Maurice was probably given. Ironically, despite what seems like a bright and more youthful opening, it approaches generic dad-scent territory QUICK. One YouTube legend even described it as the scent of a new pair of sneakers and I totally get what he was getting it. To me, the fragrance itself lies somewhere between a father's day celebration and a trip to the local mall with your teenage stepdaughter to buy overpriced clothing.

But despite its clear synthetic qualities, the sillage off of my skin is actually quite nice! It's like Fahrenheit made for the Gen-Y man who always wanted to become his dad. At times, there are even floral accords from Nautica's Voyage that peek through as a reminder that it's supposed to be some kind of hybrid aquatic. Which...it sorta is. At least, on paper.

On my skin, the aquatic facets are a little more muted, allowing the quasi-spicy vetiver to come through. But like I mentioned, the overall effect in the sillage is unusually pleasant and very modern. It doesn't smell cheap, but it doesn't exactly smell like a Dior if you get my drift. More like an affordable daily aftershave that you apply in the morning before sending your kids off to school in the spring. Or a travel-sized version of the same, that you take on vacation to a hotel destination in the Bahamas...where that Gen-Y dude wearing Fahrenheit gives sailing a try on that boat from the Nautica Voyage commercials...only to slip and fall in the ocean because he's never been sailing before. In fact, it might as well be the scent of a stiff, hotel lobby couch that smells of the well-groomed, middle-aged husband that was just sitting on it....before greeting you awkwardly with a blank smile waiting in line at the breakfast buffet. Yeah, THAT guy.

Which brings me to the massively heavy metal cap that slingshots were just MADE for. PdM eat your heart out. It literally weighs the same as the rest of the ribbed-for-your-pleasure bottle and liquid inside. And so hungry that it ripped off the atomizer collar the first time I pulled it off. Hello crimp! But honestly, who cares. It's a budget fragrance, let's be real.

So is it worth the fifteen bucks I paid? Heck yeah. It's essentially the youngster's version of Fahrenheit that he couldn't stomach because it smelled too ancient. Wonderfully modernized for a generation that used to love frequenting the mall scene but now buys everything online because they're scared of people. It's the virtual teacher-parent conference, the new sneakers and public pool made of violet leaves all in one. And yet, I don't mind in the slightest. Cause it reminds me of Fahrenheit. And my dad. And for me, sometimes that's enough. Overpriced cap off to you Mr. Roucel. You did juuuust fine.

My first bottle from Nicolai and an exceptional take on a popular genre.

CSI opens up with a wonderfully grainy, slightly earthy-chocolatey coffee and tonka. Not exactly sure where that chocolate is coming from (perhaps the patchouli) but it's surprisingly prominent and immediately brings to mind a dark, yet sumptuous evening of intelligent conversation and partially roasted insights. The coffee is a tad smoky-ashy, but not exactly loud, nor particularly photorealistic and is quickly joined by a warm cardamom and clove. At the same time, a marginally medicinal but quasi-syrupy sweetness also begins to bloom spreading its fingers into the chocolate and spices. And that's only the first 10 minutes! Quite a bit to unpack. But even in that time, it's clear that the materials here are quality - a significant step above mainstream designer perfumery and on par with many of Patricia's other creations.

Within about 20 minutes, that tantilizing sweetness spreads out like a thin and addictive veil over the entire fragrance, chiefly showcasing the raspberry ketones and a beautifully blended sweet plum accord (even more so than Vasnier's Plum Japonais for Tom Ford). Strangely enough, that plum seems to play a mischievious game of hide and seek for a good 2-3 hours on skin, before eventually settling down into the base. It's actually one of the few notes that sticks around, perhaps even becoming more prominent as the fragrance evolves.

But here is where the fragrance takes a sudden and really cool turn. At about the 30-40 minute mark, in comes the ambrocenide (which Patricia admits to using), and combines with the ketones and plum to give the fruit this fermenting quality that brings to mind a partially aged fruit wine, virtually stealing the show and shoving all thought of dusty spices aside. It's like going over to a close friend's home with promises of coffee and chocolate, only to have the evening quickly cascade into tales of misplaced trust and shallow romance over a pot of chilled and boozy kompot. Good times!

For reference, ambrocenide is the same material Mathilde Laurent used in Cartier's Pasha de Cartier parfum to give the vintage spices a serious boost in sweet and boozy performance, to the joy of some and the bane of others. Luckily, Patricia uses it with far more care in this one, blending it almost seamlessly with the fruits and tonka, bringing balance to the force. But if you sniff up close, the spices are still there - especially the cinnamon, which is the last spice standing after a solid hour of wonderfully entertaining transitions. Ultimately, the finish gives me vibes of something dark-boozy-fruity from Parfums de Marly, Tom Ford or perhaps even the sweet cloves in Ropion's Costume National Homme. The coffee? Gone within the first hour and a half. The longevity? About average for this style of scent. Ditto with the sillage. And that's considering the superb pressurized atomizer that sprays out a very generous amount of juice.

What can I say? I'm a big fan of the scent. What starts off as a warm, spicy and chocolately coffee, transitions into a syrupy fruity sweetness, quickly fermenting into a clovey wine and ending as a perfect balance between dark plum, ambrocenide and tonka sweetness. Very much in line with the popular sweet fragrances of today, but infinitely more unique and interesting imo. Nothing in my collection smells like this, although I will concede that it may have to do with the higher quality of the materials. No doubt that many would consider it masculine-leaning because of the spices, but I still think it's perfectly unisex because of that awesome sweet boozy turn in the mid.

As for the bottle design, beautiful - the shape, the feel, the weight, everything. The logo is embossed and I love the added touch of the faux wax stamp. The cap is heavy metal, elegantly etched on the top and sides and the atomizer is amazing. The only constructive feedback I have is the seam that runs along the entire side of the glass. Eeep. I never have the same confidence in the long-term integrity of seamed glass bottles. But I'll get over it I'm sure. The fragrance is worth it.

Overall, I think Caravanserail Intense is a brilliant addition to the collection. It straddles the line of mass and niche appeal perfectly without becoming too much of anything, yet keeping the wearer guessing with its subtle twists and turns. Unfortunately, if you're looking for an out-and-out coffee fragrance like John Pegg's Follow (Kerosene), Cresp's Awake (Akro) and Coffee Addict from Theodoros Kalotinis - my personal favourites - this one might be somewhat of a surprise. Coffee really isn't the main player here. Nor is the Intense moniker necessary since it's anything but a screamer. Instead, what it does scream is quality and a testament to Patricia's skill. I can see it being an excellent introduction to the brand for those just getting into niche and artisan perfumery.

I'll admit, this one took me a while to understand. The opening is rather brash with a sandpaper-y textured kick of spices, incense, labdanum and a floral that I'm not really familiar with. Never smelled a pot marigold note or linden blossom for that matter, so I can't comment whether those are the main perpetrators, but it's a resinous-floral incense at its core. Luckily, the spices don't quite reach the level of Amouage's Interlude Man - then again, neither does the labdanum. In fact, the fragrance that immediately came to mind the first time I got a whiff was Serge Lutens' Ambre Sultan. Not that they smell the same, but the way the sweetness is blended with the incense gave me a bit of that vibe.

As the fragrance opens up in the mid, the spices become warmer and more diffuse, letting the florals shine and spreading out the base. The main accords remain the same, but are significantly less piercing and more enjoyable. And THIS is where I really began to dig the fragrance. Quasi-churchy incense burns quietly in the background as the more leathery and animalic facets of the labdanum creep in from the depths. The smoke is just a whisper in the sillage but gives the composition a very dry, ashy, desert air feel - beautifully balanced with the sweetness and absolutely unisex.

At the hour mark everything is singing in perfect harmony, and the labdanum that was once dominated by the incense now really opens up and reveals an intriguing skin-like facet - an animalic touch that's often used in popular leather accords. Here, it's closer to something like the leather in Korloff's Pour Homme from 2019 - more dust than hyde. But make no mistake, the churchy incense is still there resting on that floral, now smoothed out on a bed of sweetness and subtle leather. At times it gives me vibes of a temple ceremony, at others the warm embrace of a spice market businessman or the tempting caress of an Egyptian seductress.

Above all, the fragrance speaks of setting suns on a hallowed planet clothed in sand and spices. Cool air descends at dusk as leathery creatures that lay burrowed underground during the day make their way to the surface to explore and feed. All the while, the doors close on ancient buildings that house a haughty nobility, shielding them from a natural world they'll never know or understand. Except perhaps....for one.....

Overall, it's a lovely fragrance, despite not being a particularly complex one, and easily my favourite of the three. If you can get used to that punchy opening and whatever that floral is, the scent is actually rather linear, opening up in stages and getting sweeter with time. Although incense is not officially listed above, to me, it's the dominant note along with the labdanum and both are blended exceptionally well in the mid. A solid like from me and recommended for anyone looking for a simpler take on an Amouage-esque styled scent without going full-on beastmode. Think sunset on Arrakis minus the sandworms and still-suitable for daily wear. Not a bad pun! ;)

Ok, wow, a lovely fizzy yuzu at the top blended wonderfully with lemongrass on a bed of eeeeeasy white florals. Leaning on the soapy side in the mid, but nothing deep, rich or indolic about the scent. This could EASILY have been a fragrance in the J-Scent range as it shares that effortless non-descript floral yuzu vibe that runs through so many of their releases, minus the fruity peach. The airy and relaxing quality just puts me in the mood of resting on firmly padded white cushions in a Japanese hotel lobby, enjoying the lingering aroma of clean linen with an afterscent of pithy yuzu.

I'll admit that the flowers are more prominent on paper, with a clear transition from the opening to the mid. On my skin however, the transition is far more blurred with elemi taking the yuzu further into the drydown giving the illusion of an enduring citrus. But it's a floral nonetheless, no if's or and's about it. And a bit on the simply side if I'm honest, especially after the first 45 minutes. But it's very pleasant, perhaps even boring by modern designer standards and completely unisex since the florals don't really shout. And after they begin to fizzle out at around the 2 hour mark, a generic 90s slightly piney DHM base emerges.

Of the two that I've tested so far, I personally prefer Fete d'Ambre due to its darker woody character; but whereas that one is a dry and overtly spicy woody-amber-vetiver, this is a straight up light, soapy floral with a lovely citrus top. The two couldn't be more different from each other. If you consider vetivers to lean masculine, you'd probably find this one markedly easier to wear - completely inoffensive with hints of soap and fresh laundry. Unfortunately, I won't be running out to get a bottle. Like I said, J-Scent has quite a few that riff on this DNA with similar-to-better performance. Plus the base is a little 2-dimensional for my tastes. Generic perhaps? Overall, besides that lovely opening, a pleasant enough but rather mediocre scent.

This is a really cool fragrance. Incredibly woody and well blended, it has some unique facets that I don't smell very often, yet the entire composition seems absolutely familiar.

The opening is beautifully boozy bringing to mind a realistic glass of oak-matured whiskey, on a bed of what is quite obviously the same astringent vetiver used in Bentley's Wild Vetiver, JV's Artisan Pure and even Encre Noire a l'Extreme. Over time, the vetiver only becomes more prominent and confirms what the colour of the bottle would suggest - that this is predominantly a vetiver fragrance.

Within a couple of minutes, that booziness almost completely disappears and is replaced by the exact same maple accord that Epinette used in my beloved Citron d'Erable from Atelier Cologne. The overtly woody mix of the two - maple and vetiver - gives me this musty green and almost earthy feel like sinking down into a soft recliner made of old brown sod. The amber is also quite obviously a woody amber molecule too, adding to that slightly pungent side of the underlying vetiver.

But the crazy thing is that, as the piney woody amber gives sparkle to the edges of the maple in the mid, it pops up once in a while for a peek giving the sillage a whisper of deep maple syrup. I love that. Unfortunately, if there's peach, it's only a supporting note because nothing in this fragrance is outright fruity. A bit of general warm musty spiciness bulks out the cedar, but it's also not very obvious on skin. On paper, the clove and coffee pop much more.

Overall though, this is clearly a woody amber-vetiver fragrance given character by maple and warm spices. If you enjoy the other perfumes mentioned above, chances are that you'll enjoy this one - or at the very least parts of it. Personally, I find the opening and mid a welcome change from the usual cacophony of citrus, but the base is really nothing new. A decent fragrance for someone who loves the outdoors or relaxing after a long hike in the woods. But if you're looking for something less woody, more floral, soily and natural, look to Vetu de Vert from Motif Olfactif. Same genre, more complex. Personally, I think I like both equally. Not a bad scent!