After a delightful couple of days in Paris, my other half and I took the Eurostar for the first time to London. It was crowded and chaotic crossing border control for both France and the UK at Gare du Nord, but we were free to go as soon as we got off the train at St Pancras International.

We walked along the river Thames and visited Tate Modern, then took the Tube westward to Regent’s Park. I didn’t have my hopes up too high for Queen Mary’s Rose Garden in the heat of July, and indeed many of the roses were past their prime, but some were still in good condition.

I enjoyed sniffing the various roses, from the velvety and deep to the youthful pink or tea-like. After a while, my nose started getting runny and I had bouts of sneezing—this happens every day during the spring but is unusual in the summer. I remembered that I’d had the same experience while visiting the International Rose Test Garden in August two years ago… was I allergic to my beloved roses, after all?! My other half assured me that it was probably one of any number of other plants also growing in the gardens…

The next day, we met up with my childhood friend who now lives in London, and took her and her other half to the Mad Hatters Afternoon Tea at the Sanderson Hotel. Luckily it was their first experience of it as well, and the quirkiness came from the setting and the food and drink elements themselves—the staff were very matter-of-fact and not at all theatrical. The teas, sandwiches, and desserts were all unlimited, which was a plus!

We hadn’t realized that the Pride Parade in London was that day, which soon became apparent with the crowds of people celebrating on the streets dressed accordingly, as well as smaller political protest events. I had mentioned wanting to buy some tea, so my friend led us through the throng to the massive TWG Tea flagship in Leicester Square. I’d seen TWG in other places before, but this was my first time exploring their teas. They have samples of many of them to smell (though not to taste), and the note combinations are often intriguing—my friend suggested that it was quite similar to perfumery! I ended up browsing through their catalog and asking for Rose Zephyr, a black tea with notes of rose and strawberry. They let me inhale directly from the large tin and I was immediately hooked by the heady aroma, rich and almost creamy. It is very pricey as far as tea goes, so I bought only a small amount to sip sparingly.

(Side note: I hadn’t succeeded in finding any food or drink containing tonka in Paris (not for lack of trying—I asked in an épicerie and a chocolate shop in my mediocre French!), so I was looking forward to the tonka bean hot chocolate that Whittard was offering. They offered a sample, and I could taste only almond at best; they also told me it was just flavoring, with no actual tonka in it. So I bought their English Rose tea instead, but am a little disappointed that it smells and tastes like bubblegum. Maybe it will grow on me.)

I took us to Brityard to see what new British brands were popping up there, and we took a much-needed break to sit down and have a coffee. The 4160 Tuesdays display that was on a full wall last year is now on a counter next to cakes and cookies, but the bestsellers discovery set is still available.

We then headed to Liberty, where we found that they were holding a special exhibition to celebrate their 150th anniversary.

By now, I don’t feel compelled to trawl through every perfumery section in every store, so I skipped it, but we came across these funky candles by Anya Hindmarch. The Ketchup candle smelled unmistakably of tomato leaf, although other notes include basil, fresh mint, fruity blackcurrant, and “a hint of” lime. The Kikkoman candle I couldn’t quite make out except for a much darker tone; notes include neroli, saffron, patchouli, amber, and vanilla. It doesn’t actually smell of soy sauce!

On our last full day in London, my other half and I went west to Hammersmith to visit the 4160 Tuesdays studio and hang out with perfumer Sarah McCartney and her husband Nick. We also met some of their team, who were working on a project. We got to smell the newer releases, including London Linden (I think I’m starting to recognize this happy floral note), No Mow May (complex like the wildflower ecosystem, with green, floral, hay notes cushioned by coumarinic and darker, earthy undertones), Figs in White Chocolate (green tea, fruity, and creamy—I quite like this one), Ginger Snap, and of course Vianne’s Confession, a collaboration with author Joanne Harris based on her novel Vianne, the prequel to Chocolat. This has a lot going on, with cocoa absolute immediately recognizable, and salty, woody, incense notes to accompany it. Notes include “unsweetened cacao, rose, geranium, tomato leaf, oakmoss, Clearwood, cypriol, smoky labdanum, attar mitti, and light and dark musks.”

Sarah had also made another perfume inspired by a scene in the novel, called A Banner Unfurls, which she hasn’t released so far but describes in this video (starting at about the 23:05 mark). It was love at first sniff for me, with notes of apricot, chocolate, flowers, cream, and some woods and incense in the background. As it isn’t for sale yet, Sarah generously gifted some to me along with my purchase of a small bottle of The Big Smoke. I hope she does release it, as it’s so good.

I was also cheeky enough to ask for a sample of Ginger Snap, because while to everyone else it smells just like a ginger snap, my nose fixated on a warm note that reminded me of skin on a hot and humid day in the sun, in the best way possible. So moreish, perhaps the magic of ginger when not in food. On the drydown, it smells more like the cookie.

The next day, before I left for the airport, I had the chance to stop in Selfridges. The perfume sales associates were surprisingly aggressive, with one for Burberry waving at me excitedly as if I were her best friend as I was coming down the escalator, and the Dior reps holding blotters in front of me as I walked past. At the second Dior counter, I remembered that I’d wanted to try Gris Dior, so I requested it. The sales associate launched into a well-rehearsed description of its unisex nature, chypre structure, and pleated silhouette… wait, what? I had never heard of this in perfume language before, and asked him what it meant, but didn’t get a clear answer. Upon further research, the Dior website states: “Gris Dior is a chypre-rosy silhouette pleated with contrasts. Unveiling citrus, rosy, violet and woody notes by turns, the trail of Gris Dior unfurls as an indissociable olfactory whole, much like its color namesake.” The chypre base includes oakmoss and patchouli, the latter of which I perceived most strongly. It’s certainly dry and sharp enough to conjure the crisp edges of pleated fabric, if that was the intent. I barely managed to get away from the counter, though, as the rep kept trying to stall me by showing me the beautiful packaging, size options… it makes one wonder about their training and incentives.

The leaving part is always hard, but it helps to think that I will be back, hopefully sooner rather than later!