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All the splendour of the spice-laden ships has been translated into Caravelle Épicée by Frapin, a fragrance intended for armchair pirates contemplating looting one of them and sailing off to the Seychelles to enjoy the fruits of this escapade. And behold, what do I see in my pocket telescope? Here is a band of them storming the agile vessel with their sabres in hand!
They're inhaling the spicy notes escaping the small hold, caraway and coriander with their cool piquancy, a counterpoint to the hotness and dryness of black pepper, a potent mix never ceding to sweetness. They're already intoxicated with the good-smelling treasure they captured. Maybe too intoxicated to get through the risky voyage to the islands. I can see it even from here. The captain lies in ambush, his particular type of pipe tobacco lingering on the vessel long after he hid. There's hope for the ship yet!
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