Remembering your travels through scent
“Smell is a potent wizard that transports us across thousands of miles and all the years we have lived. The odors of fruits waft me to my southern home, to my childhood frolics in the peach orchard. Other odors, instantaneous and fleeting, cause my heart to dilate joyously or contract with remembered grief. Even as I think of smells, my nose is full of scents that start awake sweet memories of summers gone and and ripening fields far away.”
-Hellen Keller
When I travel, I pack light and keep it simple. I always have a small bottle with me though, tucked safely in my pack, discreetly containing an olfactory punch that will later aid in returning my mind to a certain place and time. The tunnels of memory can be foggy; as we experience more, past experiences get buried beneath years of living. The most direct way I’ve found to bring these memories back to the surface is through scent.
I smell Jasmine and in my mind am instantly transported to Malaysia– walking the markets on sultry summer nights, eating fried noodles, drinking lime tea, making offerings at Hindu temples, exploring the jungles, pulling leeches off my feet and the rush of everything else I experienced there. The orange-sweet and soothing scent of bergamot takes me to Vancouver and the northwest United States where I would sip earl gray and people watch, my entire being buzzing with the unfamiliar sensation of reverse-culture shock. Refreshing and rejuvenating tea tree oil brings back memories of Korea. If I light a particular type of incense and close my eyes, I’m sitting half-lotus with my eyes slightly open, at a very special temple in the mountains in Korea. Lemongrass takes me to Thailand. Sage to Colorado. The fragrance and the place intertwine to form an impenetrable link of awareness in the mind.
I try and choose an oil that somehow relates (at least for me) to the place I’ll be. If it’s an already abundant scent for that place, all the better. And of course, nothing can compare to actually going back to the place and re-experiencing it in all it’s splendor. On a rainy, lonely afternoon though, it’s reassuring to open up a tiny bottle and instantly relive a small part my cherished past through the wonder of scent.
Go ahead. Smell yourself away.
August 15th, 2008 at 12:27 pm
Aly, I really enjoyed your post, and I’m delighted to make the acquaintance of another smell-oriented traveler.
I find that that the smell of different humidity levels transports me instantly to different places I’ve been: the morning damp after a hard night rain in the spring smells like my school in Normandy; the feeling of walking into a small bathroom right after someone has taken a shower feels like walking outside during the rainy season in Hiroshima; and a cool, clean, just-washed-down smell is the scent of walking out the doors of the Vancouver airport.
Certain topical medications are (inadvertantly!) redolent of specific times and places for me, too!
We’ve just been staying in the historic Publick House in Sturbridge, Massachusetts, founded in 1771, for a week of deliciously cool, rainy weather. The Inn has an incredible natural smell of wood smoke, damp wood, and rich, hearty food.
I am increasingly interested in the smell of travel. My husband and I are on an open-ended road-trip, and we’re doing our best to drive back roads and keep the windows or the sunroof of our Mini Cooper cracked, so we can save on gas and so we can see more than just the highways, but also partly so we can enjoy the smells of the places we visit, too.