I don’t necessarily mean that in a bad way. There are so many smells in this city. Tropical florals, usually only encountered in my body wash. The familiar smell of exhaust of cars and buses, ingrained in my olfactory pathways from years of living in cities. New weird smells that I have yet to identify–some fruity, some fishy, some downright stinky (I’d be happy never again encountering whatever that one was, grocery store). But you know what smell I haven’t encountered? Eau du Metro. That pungent rotting piss smell that wafts over you when changing trains in the Paris metro. …You might want to take care of that, Paris.
UPDATE: So that smell I’d like to avoid forever is Durian. The so-called “king of fruit”. Well the king might want to change his socks, ’cause DAMN! When you walk into a grocery store, you naturally enter through the produce section. Which means you walk by, or rather, are assaulted by the pungent smell of
rotting fresh Durian. I sort of lose my appetite for shopping after that. Although it certainly curbs any junk-food cravings I might have had before walking into the store.