Sniff sniff... yeah I thought so.  

It's here.. The great smell of .. nicotine...

Other ex smokers have promised me that at some point I will hate the smell of nicotine, that the merest whiff of blue smoke will turn my stomach.

I am a long way from this promised state.

It's been nearly four months, and look I'm still not smoking, but I sure am sniffing. I am inhaling passively every chance I get.

The front of Haymarket station is surprisingly smoke free. Tesco's megastore out on the far edges of Cheesetown is much better. There seems to be a constant stream of traumatised shoppers, needing a calming cigarette whilst they check their receipts. Stopping off at the cashpoint down wind from the front door can be a heady experience.  But best of the lot is Morrisons at the Gyle. I don't know if there are more dedicated smokers there, but the front door heating seems to ensure that there is a constant stream of blue smoke through the slide doors and down the concourse.

But now, here inside Ikea, I'm getting great deep whiffs of continental tobacco, whiffs of, is it Gauloise? Djarum? Maybe Marlborough at the outside..

The source is obvious; it's that nice young  man. The one with the long dark hair, dark sun tan, and Spanish accent.  He's checking out wine glasses.  With his girlfriend.

I'm sidling closer to carry on inhaling.
He's moving off to look at storage jars.

I'm moving off after him.

I'm still inhaling,

Does he notice? Or has he come to expect that, since moving to Britain, random strangers will inhale deeply  behind his back?

How much longer is this phase going to last? And can I follow him all the way through kitchenware to curtains and soft furnishings....?