My father was a perfumer too, and I vividly remember one time, when he was about 80, walking him back to his garden at 1am. We both stopped in our tracks. There was this incredible scent of tuberose coming from the town, and jasmine from somewhere up high. The meeting of the two was like a fully formed perfume. He said he’d been experiencing that for 65 years, but every time it felt like a miracle.

— Read more in Perfumer Jacques Cavallier Belletrud’s guide to Grasse at Financial Times.