Five aromas that awaken dormant memories

It's like when a scent arrives softly, in slow motion, and the next second a memory settles back into the present.

This happens because the olfactory bulb connects directly with the amygdala and hippocampus, without filters. In an instant, the scent rekindles a deep emotion, and the body responds accordingly. Studies show that the sense of smell triggers more vivid, emotional, and early childhood memories than other senses.

But emotion doesn't just revive the past; it also allows a new memory to be established. The amygdala acts as an emotional marker, labeling intense moments so the hippocampus can retain them more strongly. Neutral moments, on the other hand, fade easily.

Emotion is present at both ends of memory: it is the key that unlocks old memories and the ink with which we write new ones.

We remember what moves us, what helps us, what strengthens us. Everything else fades into obscurity.
The memory that enters through an emotion is imprinted on the soul.

Aromas have the gift of touching the invisible, without explanation or logic. They go straight to the heart.

During travel, some scents have the ability to awaken something dormant. Here I share five of them. Perhaps they've also been on your travels at some point.

1. The aroma of toasted sesame seeds in a Kyoto market
At Nishiki Market, the aroma of toasted sesame rose amidst the steam and the voices, and it stopped me in my tracks. It was like opening a box sealed years before. Suddenly, I was in my grandmother's kitchen. It wasn't nostalgia, it was presence.

2. The scent of lavender in Provence
The fields stretched out in waves of violet beside the ancient Sénanque Abbey in midsummer. But it was the warm scent of lavender that moved me. Inhaling it, I relived sunny afternoons spent reading cards in a low voice. And it's no coincidence: various studies confirm that lavender not only soothes but also improves memory and attention.

3. The scent of orange blossom on a Lisbon street
I was walking among ancient balconies and cobblestones when the air was filled with the intoxicating scent of orange blossoms. In that instant, a memory of my adolescence appeared: sunshine, a white dress, and a random square. Memory doesn't need exact coordinates. Just a scent.

4. The scent of incense in Istanbul
In a small spice shop, among jars of cardamom and turmeric, a wisp of incense floated in the air. Just inhaling that dense, enveloping aroma was enough to transport me back in time. As if the soul were remembering something the mind can't yet name.

5. The scent of old leather on a Scottish train
In that silent carriage, I closed my eyes and smelled the tanned leather. I returned to a story I'd read as a child: a train, a hat, mysterious landscapes. And I wasn't traveling alone; I was traveling with everything that made me dream.

+ The aroma of basil and olive oil in my grandmother's kitchen
There are aromas that don't belong to a geographical journey, but to an intimate one. The scent of fresh basil mixed with warm olive oil is a secret map. It takes me straight to my grandmother's kitchen, to the sound of the mortar, to the bread dipped in sauce. And even if it doesn't cross borders, that journey also transforms.

Perhaps we don't travel so much to discover new places, but rather to reconnect with what we already have inside.
Sometimes a simple scent is enough to open the door.
And in that moment, we are memory, emotion and presence.