Floral and fruity. Tel Aviv is Mediterranean warmth and gusto, neatly bottled. In this coastal city, sun bounces off water and into white-yellow streams of bright color. Clementine and bergamot illustrate this brilliance, while blackcurrant bud etches out the shadows of citric sunlight. Citric, solar energy makes gold jewelry shimmer on tanned skin: there is a lingering sense of 1970s glamour here. In Tel Aviv life is sexy, a party…all within the bubble. It’s walking along the beach, naked skin, feeling relaxed, languorous. Jasmine sambac belies the nude sensualism of this place: Commoran ylang ylang and freesia quicken our pulse while rose grounds us, in the ever shifting sands of Tel Aviv. Just as we’re getting comfortable on the beach, the ground shifts beneath us–into the big city, with noise, people, a pulsing intensity near madness. Stopping at the juice stall on Dizengoff for some sweet relief before tunnelling headfirst into the Bauhaus: heat, sweat (liatrix and musk make a potent combination), cigarette smoke (searing sandalwood burns surprisingly clean), and flowers (sparkling, sweet benzoin) on the balconies overhead combine into the bewitching urbane organism that is this city. In In Tel Aviv, life’s a beach, on the shore or the pavement.