The smell of a seabird cliff is pungent. At first it seems revolting, but after some time, perched on the edge of a cliff, one begins to acclimate. It smells a little bit sweet, and a little bit salty. It’s hard to describe. The closest thing I can compare it to is a bat cave I visited in Indonesia, although that’s also a difficult smell to conjure purely by imagination. It smells a bit old, like layers of peat that have been piling up for years. But the thing about the smell