The first condition of understanding a foreign country is to smell it. ~ Rudyard Kipling
Scent slings me to foreign shores …
Roasted chestnuts in Paris.
Festive oliebollen in Holland.
Pungent eucalypts of Australia.
Bitter coffee black as death, pistachio baklava, honey-glazed fingers that swiftly find my mouth, and Bosphorus spray on Galata bridge.