My current holy grail perfume is Chergui, which I fell for immediately and irretrievably. I was anticipating that my reaction to Fumerie Turque would be similar, based on its notes and reviews. But my first try with Fumerie Turque was NOT a success, and I nearly scrubbed it. Its opening was very pungent, and I didn't get any of the honey and smoke I was promised. I tried again 5 days later and had a different experience. The pungence was gone, replaced by a slight sharpness, followed by swirling smoke, and, finally, honey. I waited 3 more days, tried it again, and, finally, I GOT what everyone has been raving about.
On me, the opening of Fumerie Turque remains piquant but in a subdued Lutensian fashion -- warmly spicy but not overly sweet at this point (unlike Chergui or Arabie). This is where I get the currants, the candied rose, and the patchouli. The smoke is lightly swirling around the spices at this point.
After about 30 minutes, the currants and candied rose retreat, and the patchouli and smoke intertwine and begin their dance, with the smoke clearly leading. It's a dry, controlled dance at this point, with just a hint of honey in the background. Then the jasmine briefly cuts in for the patchouli, before the smoke and honey begin a long, incredibly sexy tango. The heart of Fumerie Turque is even better than Chergui and, for me, that's saying something.
The end of Fumerie Turque is softer and more restrained than I would like (this is where Chergui wins out for me), but it's still very nice. I don't get the amber or leather than some other reviewers do, just really warm honey and vanilla.
Fumerie Turque stays close to the skin all the way through its development. I tested this in the heat of a Great Plains summer (read: hot, hot, hot, and HUMID), and the sweetness was not overbearing, but it stayed center stage longer than I suspect it will in cooler weather. This review is also based on Fumerie Turque dabbed rather than sprayed.