As you arrive at Alicante, the smell of diesel and rubber trying to compete with a warm vegetation smell. Collecting your cases, the smell of the loos (not all entirely bad because the disinfectant blocks seem to mingle with the other ones) and the stink of onions from the Burger King outlet.
Driving past Elche, the window is well and truly up due to the overpowering diesel and oil smell from the trucks which, quite frankly, should have been retired some years ago. If these trucks need an ITV, someone knows the brother of the tester. (Stay with me folks, it gets better).
Come off and the AP7 and the smell changes. In the summer, a dry powdery smell mixed with the vegetation from the fields. In the spring, a lovely whiff of orange and lemon blossom mingled with an unidentifiable greenery type smell.
The increased smell of salt indicates you are approaching Torrevieja. The sight of the, sometimes pink, sometimes purple, sometimes brown, salt lakes confirm you are nearly there. Then the salt lake smell is overtaken by the briny smell of the sea. The ozone is quite overpowering but very nice. Heading up into the hills, the salty smell disappears and is overtaken by one of two things. Either the farmer is muck-spreading in the vicinity of Lomas de Golf or the cafe owners seriously need to check their plumbing.
Pulling up outside my flat, the new fish and chip shop next to the Chinese Buffet compete with their smells to pervade the atmosphere.
Time to take a quick ride into the country. Ah! Now the warm, dry air has a sweet mix from the olives, the pomegranates, the oranges, the lemons and so on. Definitely a different smell to any you will get in UK. Back to the flat, evening is drawing in. Is it me, or do all the bushes and plants give off their nicest fragrances as the sun goes down? The bougainvilleas, jasmine and especially the honeysuckle all combine to wipe out the chippy and chinky smells. Thanks to all my neighbours for keeping these plants so well tended.
Sitting on the balcony in the evening, move the red wine away and the flower smells are still there along with an almost tropical aroma from the palm trees. Of course, overriding all the smells comes the noise of the cicadas, the crickets and other assorted insects (fortunately, not the buzz of the mosquito or the dreaded no-see-ums as they don't seem to be a problem in my area).
The next day, time to visit the market. The herbs, the vegetables, the many and varied fruits (especially the dark grapes) compete with the Pollo Asado van. The glorious aromas coming from the man selling the cured hams and sausages next to the man selling the churros and sugared sweets. Down to the sea front, past the sweet smells from the bodegas selling their wine by the litre, to where the fresh fish cooking over the hot coals give way to the aroma of paella boiling in the pot. All mixed with the particular smells of the sea breezes zephyring (good word, that. Just made it up) through the tall palms along the promenade.
Ah, yes. Heady smells and aromas, some nice, some not so nice. But certainly different.