Melons.

Galia melons, the spanish strain have a certain smell at ripeness. Four weeks long we lived in Gibralter crossing the border to spain daily to visit a supermarket, it was cheaper and in the entrance had a mountain of Galia Melons that engulfed the shop with its ripe fragrance. This weekend on the fruit market they had these same melons, 4 for €2,50, so I bought eight and now my kitchen is filled with their fragrance, a lot of good memories right there. Including 'Wolfblas Ruby 71.

The border from Gibralter to Spain is the only border I have crossed where you must wait for the aeroplanes to land before crossing, much like a train crossing on the road. It was '93 just as Australians needed a visa to enter Spain and our friend did not have one, knowing the Spanish are notourious for their slowness we smuggled him accross the border instead of going through the proper channels.

Do you have any Smells of Memories?
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Parma violets remind me of my childhood

the smell of Drum tobacco reminds me of my granddad who passed away
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the smell of napalm reminds me of my days in nam

Far too many smells and memories. The smell of Charlie Sunshine reminds me of my mom when she was young. Smell of white musk reminds me of hotel sheets and sweet mornings, smell of shaworma and kebab reminds me of a war area I've never been into all missing being a song like Desert Rose. And there was once this Magnolia smell which reminded me of perfect lurve... Anyways this is too hard. Bygone.
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TCP reminds me of my childhood. Many a graze, when I was young

Sea salt. On the beach in tanzania aged about 4 climbing these huge salt hills - drying it out - and cutting my foot on the shards and boy did that hurt. Playing sliding down with my tanzanian cousin David same age as me, he died last summer of pneumonia.......i smelled the sea salt in my dreams a few nights ago and woke myself crying. Sea salt and rotting fish, hardly a nice smell but wonderful happy childhood memories, gone forever.

Walking into an antique shop will always remind me of my great grandfathers house, the smell of antique furniture and polished wood