Nissaba – Les Alpes – Root Beer From A Great Height

Australians aren’t known for their winter sports prowess. But sometimes you get lucky! One of the most startling moments in Olympic history occurred at the 2002 Salt Lake City Games. If you haven’t seen the 1000m short track speed skating final featuring Australia’s Steven Bradbury, it’s worth watching on YouTube. His improbable exploits have become legendary and even gave rise to the phrase “doing a Bradbury” to describe an unexpected success. I’m sure there will be plenty more talking points coming out of Italy over the next couple of weeks as the Milano Cortina games get underway.

Where am I going with this? I’m veering off-piste for a perfume blog. Well, with those Winter Olympics beginning in Milan this week, it felt like an opportune moment to discuss Les Alpes from Swiss House, Nissaba. Unlike Bradbury, Nissaba burst out of the blocks. Last year, I highlighted the brand as one to watch in my Best Perfumes Of 2025. I nominated their lavender/hyssop creation, Provence, as my favourite from the house. After a month with Les Alpes, I still hold that opinion, but only just.

In recent years, several perfumed interpretations of the Alps have emerged, and I’ve generally enjoyed them. Among these, Andy Tauer’s L’Air Des Alpes Suisses is perhaps the most famous. It was only a matter of time before Nissaba took a stab at a perfume dedicated to the well-known mountain range. This write-up serves as a makeup post, as I need to give the brand and perfumer, Fabrice Pellegrin, their due. The original decant I used to base my appraisal of Les Alpes may have been mislabeled. In my post from last year, I described it as a metallic vetiver. Something felt off (let’s consider it a false start), so I ordered another decant. The new sample I have aligns much more closely with the listed notes and the brand’s marketing. Most importantly, it smells better, too.  

Fabrice Pellegrin follows a familiar frosted blueprint in the initial stages of Les Alpes. Pine and juniper team up to induce the feeling of stinging, bracing mountain air on skin, in a similar manner to the above-mentioned Tauer and the Imaginary Authors’ Language of Glaciers. The balsamic bite of pine combines with the energetic zing of juniper to mimic a mountain climb. Les Alpes reminds me more of Fou de Absinthe from L’Artisan Parfumeur, though. Like Fou de Absinthe, Les Alpes incorporates qualities reminiscent of shaving foam, along with a unique, drinkable aspect that I will elaborate on below, while still preserving the essence of the great outdoors.

The most intriguing aspect of Les Alpes is the presence of fennel. I’ve encountered this note in other scents before, most recently in Cédrat Céruse from L’Artisan Parfumeur, but in Les Alpes it plays a slightly different role. After the initial sharpness of the opening, Les Alpes takes on a strong anise-like quality. Les Alpes feels darker and deeper than the L’Artisan. I imagine root beer with its spicy, creamy, vanilla, and earthy froth. Maybe our intrepid climber is celebrating their alpine ascent with a well-deserved refreshment?

At its core, Les Alpes has a classic masculine character. There’s the tobacco-like impact of hay and coumarin, tethered to the shave cream nostalgia of classic barbershop scents. Lavender isn’t mentioned in the note pyramid, and I can’t see it listed as an ingredient, so I’m not sure it can be classified as a fougère. That would be like a cheeseburger without the cheese. However, it does include geranium, along with thyme and rosemary, which link it to the barbershop brigade. 

Despite some references to the past, Les Alpes doesn’t feel outdated or obsolete. I’ve seen it compared to Brut, but I must admit I didn’t make that connection. Perhaps its anisic qualities might lead some to draw those parallels. Certainly, if you enjoy classic masculine fragrances, you will appreciate Les Alpes. Its root beer aspect sets it slightly apart from other aromatic fragrances I’ve encountered. I can imagine it on a suave James Bond-like character, kicking back in his chalet in St Moritz. Alternatively, it could suit an Australian perfume blogger as he unwinds in his air-conditioned living room while watching the luge and bobsled from the other side of the world.

I’m glad I followed my instincts and purchased another decant. Les Alpes might have left it a little late to make my best-of list from last year, but it’s shot to the summit, joining Provence as one of my favourites from the house. There’s nothing flashy about any of the Nissaba scents; however, they’re all well-crafted. Some of them, including Les Alpes, are a slow burn. But sometimes, slow and steady wins the race—just ask Steven Bradbury.

Have you tried Les Alpes or anything from Nissaba? Will you watch the Winter Olympics?

Note: Bottle image of Les Alpes courtesy of Nissaba. All the other photos are my own.