When you have nothing good to say...

...play music instead.  

If you've never heard of Pat Kane of Hue and Cry, look him up.   This performance gives me goosebumps.

Scents for winter in Syria

Being somewhat off the tourist path, the flight schedule between Pakistan and Syria is less than kind to one's equilibrium.  After a last day in Islamabad filled with visiting and goodbyes, I checked in at 1:30am for a 4:00am departure.  Islamabad airport, with its chaos and tattered seats, hadn't changed a bit.  I think the same waiter offer me tea, and wore the same look of resignation when I turned him down (I would have accepted, but for the unspeakable toilets).

A flight filled with cranky babies, then a 6-hour layover.  Why o why aren't transit areas built to aid the exhausted traveller?  Please, designers, we all need lounges and quiet rooms, not just the wealthy.  Abu Dhabi Airport was crowded; its hard surfaces raised the hubbub to Bedlam levels; and its electric green / blue honeycomb colour scheme fizzed the brain like a slug in salt.  I tried vainly to distract myself at the Duty Free, before curling up on a bench beneath a fearsome a/c unit.

Back in Damascus, all was eerily calm.  Terrible events just a few days before Christmas had blighted the holiday season.  New Year's Eve came and went in quiet watchfulness.  

Now that the holidays are over, the atmosphere is undeniably heavy.  Everyone is on edge, listening for shouts, shots, trouble.   Today I'd planned to go downtown, but just after midday, BOOM.  A frenzy of messaging to make sure friends are ok, then a re-working of the day's plans.  The power and water are on, so I have made soup, put on some music, and opened a Monica Ali novel.   

Well.  It's nice to be back in my own apartment, even if it's a little chilly.  A good opportunity to wrap up in a big aran sweater fortified with Egoiste.  Which brings me to my current crop of favourite winter perfumes:

Chanel Egoiste

Egoiste has nothing to do with its name, thank goodness.  It's cozy and cuddly, and I wear it more than any other Chanel.  When I long for the feeling of sun streaming through snowy woods into a wood-pannelled room - i.e., when I'm homesick - I wear Egoiste, and the scent of dry, warm, and somehow plummy rosewood cheers me up.    

Amouage Dia
Dia is like donning a crisp silk blouse: you stand a little straighter, and find yourself walking with a certain purpose and grace.   It is perfect to wear to work when you need an extra boost.  When I heard that Dia was Jean Claude Ellena's contribution to Amouage, I wondered if he might be returning to the old VCA First days, but no: Dia is a bright, elegant gesture.

Amouage Epic
The winter diva!  Epic is what one should wear while astride a camel, descending into a great valley, then galloping across the flat valley floor, spraying sand behind a billowing cloak.  Dry, resinously spicy and majestic, Epic is the scent of overland adventure.  I imagine Prince Faisal smelling of oud, but Lawrence would have trailed a sillage of Epic...at least, David Lean's Cinemascope version of him would have.  It's gorgeous and slightly bombastic, and I shall wear it when I finally get that elusive exit permit, and see Wadi Rum for myself.

Wadi Rum, Jordan.  Photo from nationalgeographic.com.