Nose: great old Meursault with a dollop of absinth. Honeysuckle, butter cream, beeswax, then various old apples and plums, an old rectory's orchard around the end of the month of august, vanilla, liquorice wood and fennel seeds, carrot tops, hay smoke, wood smoke, miso… As often when a whisky's this old, aromas tend to decompose into many tinier notes, some being almost inexpressible and yet there are there. What we sometimes call a 'fractal nose' (ouch).
Mouth: fractal indeed, but rather drier this time, with more oak than the colour had suggested. Quite some wood oils, thuja, eucalyptus, pine and fir, some tobacco, hints of turpentine-like notes, then last year's apples, walnuts… What's particularly funny here is that this baby tends to improve over, say fifteen minutes, becoming brighter and fruitier, while very old whiskies would rather tend to lose steam and become drying. You know, the 'black tea effect'. I'm glad I'll manage to keep it around the 90-mark in my book.
Finish: a little short, which is absolutely normal, but wonderfully herbal. Raisins marinated in herbal liqueur plus chicken soup. The aftertaste is particularly wonderful, with some lime popping out. It's always great when lemons, grapefruits and limes do that. There, one more point.
Comments: this old glory never stopped improving, gaining one point every three or four minutes. Respect.