Going off on a massive tangent but my birth town was renouned for having a strange and unique smell due to the linoleum works which was the main employer, back in the day. Smell originated from the linseed oil that was processed into lino which became the floor covering of choice to the victorians etc.
Even became a poem! Dunno if you angles can translate but its certainly weel kent up here in the local venacular. Enjoy....
The Boy in the Train
Whit wey does the engine say Toot-toot?
Is it feart to gang in the tunnel?
Whit wey is the furnace no pit oot
When the rain gangs doon the funnel?
What'll I hae formy tea the nicht?
A herrin', or maybe a haddie?
Has Granma gotten electric licht?
Is the next stop Kirkcaddy?
There's a hoodie-craw on yon turnip raw!
An's sean-gulls - sax or seeven.
I'll no fa' oot o' the windae, Maw
It's sneckit, as sure as I'm leevin'
We're in the tunnel! We're a' in the dark!
But dinna be frichtit, Daddy,
We'll sune be coming to Beveridge Park,
And the next stop's Kirkcaddy!
Is yon the mune I see in the sky?
It's awfu' wee and' curly
See! There's a coo and a cauf ootbye,
An a lassie pu'in' a hurly!
He's chackit the tickets and gien them back,
Sae gie me my ain yin, Daddy.
Lift doon the bag frae the luggage rack,
For the next stop's Kircaddy!
There's a gey wheen boats at the harmour mou',
And eh! dae ye see the cruisers?
The cinnamon drop I was sooin' the noo
Has tummelt an' stuck tae ma troosers.
Ill sune be ringin' ma Gran'ma's bell
She'll cry, "Come ben, my laddie."
For I ken mysel' by the queer-like smell
That the next stop's Kircaddy!
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Topic: Strange smell (Read 3787 times)