literally another aussie in london

smelling old friends

Recently my house has become the halfway house of Melbournians who want to move to London.

And for one of them I had to go and pick them up from Victoria station after their trip seemed to involve trains, buses, ferries, and everything else because of the ash cloud.

The first thing I noticed when meeting him was his odour.

He smelt like shit.

Lots of shit.

Fresh stinky shit.

But, as I had lived with this man in a small apartment with no air conditioning in Melbourne for about 2 years, it was a smell I knew well.

I could pick this man’s stinky odour out in a tip.  It was just that familiar to me.  So even if he turned up with his face covered in tattoos and a bald head, the smell would have been enough for me to be transported back.

It brought back old nights of pizza and whisky while staying up till well into the night to watch Boston Legal or Entourage.

It reminded me of shitty film shoots where we were so bored we would freak out the students by taking about digit ass play.

I couldn’t help but reminisce about the time I threw up naked on his bedroom door.  And he, like the perfect housemate, decided to not come out and see if I was ok knowing that he could see me naked covered in vomit and falling over on the bathroom floor.

That smell, as disgusting as it is, was our friendship, and one whiff is all it took and I was back there.

It should be mentioned that he doesn’t always smell bad, just after long trips or when he used to decide not to wash for days at a time in our flat.

June 11, 2010 Posted by Jrod | living in london | aussies in london, old smells | Leave a Comment