gloucesterstinks

You are standing on Gloucester quay. The year is 1850.
Breathe in. What hits you?
Black tar and hemp rope, the working smell of vessels from every ocean. Corn from Ireland. Grain dust hanging in the air like gold. Timber from the Baltic. Pine resin and fresh sawdust. Choking coal smoke from the steam engines.
And underneath it all, the Severn. Salt. Mud. The working river.
You are not standing in a local city. You are standing in a global city. It always has been. It always will be.
Every cargo is a story of where it came from: who grew it, cut it, loaded it, and what they were paid.
We deodorised it. And with it, we erased the people who made it work.
This is why the G is a clef, because this city has a song, made of rope and tar. That was the sound and smell of Gloucester working.
I used AI to make this picture (I'm not an artist!). But it can't give you the smell. Your phone has no nose. To know Gloucester, you have to be in Gloucester.
Gloucester Stinks is about the smells that built this city, and the people behind them. Next year the Docks turn 200.
What does Gloucester smell like to you?