Childhood Memories

Have just woken up on a bright Sunday morning, sun streaming through the windows and a breakfast of kippers with bread and butter. Transported straight back to my childhood, Arbroath Smokies at my Granny’s on a Sunday morning. Delicious.

So what makes that time travel thing happen for you?

I believe smell is the closest sense connected to memory. A certain smell of rotting rubbish transports me straigt back to Baghdad markets, and that was 1988!
I grew up in a restaurant, so there were so many smells, none are particularly prominent. I used to help Dad in his Darkroom, so maybe the chemicals would do it, but not smelt them in ages.

It’s smells isn’t it? For me it’s Prestwich on a Saturday morning, when the trains still let off steam.

The smell of petrol. My Dad worked for BP and whenever I go to fill up I can see my Dad coming in from work.
Oh and the smell of cut grass in the sunshine - the smell of never-ending summers.