1. The smell of new paper in the Puffin paperbacks I was given for Christmas. I think I read every Puffin printed.
2. The smell of pine needles on a hundred-degree day. We had fahrenheit when I was a kid.
3. The smell of the rubber tyres on toy tin cars on Christmas morning.
4. The smell of sunburn cream rubbed on my sister's red shoulder.
5. The smell of cigarette butts in the sand at the beach. (Dad's, not mine. And no, I don't know if he subsequently 'disposed of them thoughtfully'.)
6. The smell of rain, before it arrived.
7. The smell inside my grandfather's new two-tone Vanguard Spacemaster, complete with clear plastic-covered red leatherette seats with cream piping. It took us on Sunday picnics to Gisborne.