I was making my sandwiches last night before I went to bed. I elected to make traditional ham sandwiches consisting of bread, margarine and ham. Nothing special there. But as soon as I opened the ham it brought back a flood of memories from perhaps 10 years ago and it made me smile. Allow me to explain…

I lived with my parents back then and we used to have a black and white cat that we – for reasons I can no longer recall – called Rimmer. Anyway, he was a pretty cool cat. In fact he came to us as a stray, choosing us instead of the other way around. He just appeared in our garden one night and did so for the following couple of nights before venturing inside our house. On the first night that he did come in he plonked himself on my lap and promptly fell asleep. He woke up soon after and, being a bit confused, hissed at me and ran outside probably expecting us to shout at him. But we didn’t and he soon became a much-loved member of our family. Anyway, he had a lovely temperament and was pretty smart for a cat. We used to give him pieces of ham as a treat and when I opened the packet last night I was transported back in time. Rimmer was brushing himself against my leg, I was about to tear the ham into small pieces and feed them to the beast. I could almost feel his whiskers touching my fingers as I fed him.

The memory is entirely personal to me and, although I’ve explained it to you, I could never put across how it actually feels. And that’s the cool thing about smell-induced memories. If I sat down and just tried to remember feeding Rimmer I’d just get pictures. But the smell triggers deeper memories so that I get feelings, sights and sounds that make it seem almost real. I’ve mentioned before that music can trigger memories but it doesn’t have anything like the power of smell.

You may think it’s a bit pathetic and sentimental (and if so, you’re probably right – especially you R) but I still have a jumper I stole from my girlfriend of about 10 years ago sitting on the top shelf of my wardrobe. It’s a bit torn and well-worn (as it was the day I ‘borrowed’ it) but, amazingly, it still retains the same smell it did all those years ago. I never washed it (come on, I never wear it), but if I smell it now it takes me back to being a teenager again and to a different place and a different me. I’m not trying to live in the past, but it’s fun to dip in and out of it from time to time. I also have one of my mother’s jumpers that I’ll never wash and that provides me with some comfort.

I find that smell-induced memories tend to evoke positive memories and they make me smile, which is why I hold on to things like jumpers. Although sound-induced ones often have the opposite effect. Maybe it’s because of my fondness for depressing music that reminds me of depressing things…

I’ll end by mentioning one of my favourite smell-induced memories. I’ll paint the picture that triggers it. It’s a sunny day, the ground is hot and if you were to walk barefoot you’d be hopping around as the pavement is boiling. Clouds appear overhead and it starts to rain. As the rain hits the hot pavement there is a particular smell of, eh, wet pavement. But when it hits my nostrils I am taken back to a summer’s day when I was about 6 or 7. My brother and I are playing in our garden and it’s a red-hot August afternoon. My father has set up a paddling pool on the lawn and we are jumping in and out of it, pretending we’re swimming in the sea. We’re playing on the patio when it starts to rain and we go back into the pool to stay out of it (kids aren’t too smart you see). It’s only a small shower and the sun keeps shining. As I look up I see a rainbow overhead. And it’s beautiful. And I’m smiling. As I am whenever it rains on a hot day and I’m outside.