PetrolBlog and the problem of embarrassing odours

Here at PBHQ, we often talk about the essence of PetrolBlog. We all seem to have a unique ability to judge a car on its PetrolBlogyness, without being able to define what being PetrolBloggy is really all about. We just seem to know. As drinkers of Croft Original sherry will no doubt testify, one instinctively knows when something is right.



You could say that PetrolBlog has a certain whiff about it.

Which brings us neatly on to the subject of smells. In our world, these smells tend to be of the less pleasant variety. That is unless you include the unique and wonderful aroma created by starting a pre-turn-of-the-millennium petrol-engined car that's been sat idle in the garage for a few weeks.

Few things on earth are more delightful. Disclaimer: PetrolBlog accepts no responsibility for any deaths or injuries caused as a result of indulging in the fine pastime of standing behind a 1989 Citroën AX GT with a fully open choke.

No, aside from this rare pleasure, our smells tend to be a little more suspect. Driving about - any oily, rubbery or burning smells are greeted with immediate panic, a glance in the rear-view mirror in search of smoke, a straining of the neck to peer over the bonnet and the thought of a mammoth repair bill.

Normally the fears subside when you realise the smells are coming from a motorway maintenance vehicle/factory/K-reg Ford Orion (delete as applicable), but that's not before a few years have been removed from your life expectancy, something already diminished by your love of standing in a garage behind an '80s motor running on full choke.

Not for us, that unique smell of a new car. For owners of such exotics, unpleasant aromas are merely things that affect other people. Simply close the air vents, whack the air conditioning on to full and protect yourself from the horrors of the outside world.

At worst, a new car owner only has to put up with the lingering smell of the hideous aftershave worn by Steve, the annoyingly persistent salesman.

There is, however, one smell that can't be ignored. And there's no polite way of putting this - it's the smell of poo. You'll get to know where the sewage works are on your daily commute and, of course, you'll know when to ensure the windows are shut and the air vents are securely closed.

But there are times - usually when traveling in a group - when you'll sense that the smell is emanating from something - or rather someone - on the inside of the car. And this creates a problem.

Say there are three other people in the car with you. Unless these people have had their noses surgically removed, they will have picked up on this smell, too. And - like yourself - they'll be wondering which one of the other three travellers was responsible for the hideous gas circulating throughout the cabin.

So what do you do? Naturally it wasn't you and you really, really don't want people to think it was. But by mentioning the smell, are you merely drawing attention to it and - more importantly - yourself? Your mind spirals back to your schooldays when the 'whoever smelt it, dealt it' rhyme ruled the roost. So you keep quiet and hope someone else speaks up instead.

But no - your mind is then tangled by the alternative rhyme of 'whoever spoke last, set off the blast'. So you start to sweat.

Do you open the window to let the smell escape? No, because this is a no-win solution, too. Your sudden need for fresh air could merely be seen as an admission of guilt. Alternatively, it could suggest that you have smelt the repugnant whiff, therefore embarrassing one of your fellow travellers.

A stalemate develops, with some of the car's occupants choosing to discreetly cover their nose, with others turning to the sanctuary of their smartphone, hoping a quick game of Angry Birds will make the smell go away. We've all been there and - as far as PetrolBlog is concerned - there is no solution to this everyday scenario.

Febreze isn't the answer - that merely masks an already nasty smell with something just as unpleasant.

So, dear PetrolBlog reader, what's the best way to deal with this embarrassing problem? Answers on a postcard to the usual address.

In the meantime, we're off to stand at the back of the garage...

Orion image © Ford.