Despite being Welsh, I was not blessed with a particularly good singing voice. And yet I love to sing. When I was little, I really wanted a guitar, but I never had one. I have a recollection of my father telling me that you have to be able to sing to have a guitar. That anecdote might be a false memory, and if so – sorry Dad!
I sing along to anything: 80s pop music; hymn; songs from Ed (Stewpot) Stewart’s family favourites on a Saturday morning (‘Puff the Magic Dragon’ anyone?). And of course, I love to sing in the car.
On Monday last week, Richard and I went to visit the troglodyte village of La Madeleine. The rock formations and natural shelter were first used by man since pre-historic times, and then built further into the rock in medieval times to form the troglodyte village it is today. For €7.90 per person, it is a fascinating insight into our history in Europe. And you can download a website to your phone, which gives you a detailed (and occasionally slightly flowery) audio-description of each of the points of interest. I was a bit distracted as the commentator had a slight accent from the Rhondda, but never mind.
The forecast for Monday afternoon, as we headed home, was thundery showers, but it was nice enough to start with. Slowly, the sky clouded over, and eventually we put the Audi roof up, just missing the first spatters by seconds.
As we got to the town of Perigueux, Richard asked me if I’d like some music on in the car, and I readily agreed. He asked me what I’d like, and I replied one of the soundtracks from Killing Eve, which always has a really good mix of music types and is a break from his recent ska anthems (yawn).
Instead, he picked a playlist that we’d put together when we went sailing in Poros in Greece in 2018. The holiday was to celebrate our silver wedding anniversary. Mum had recently died, and we knew dad didn’t have very long, so I had stipulated that all of the songs should be cheerful and upbeat, which they were.
The first track (on shuffle) was Donna Summer’s ‘I Feel Love’, but it went on for a while, as it was the 12” disco version. Eventually, R flipped to the next track, saying he’d had enough of it, and the next track was Mama Mia by Abba. In revenge for cutting off Donna Summer, I sang along to the Abba track. Very, very loudly! And then to every track after that. The list includes: ‘Echo Beach’; ‘Summer in the City’; ‘Walking on Sunshine’; ‘Fantastic Day’, and many more.
If you know your 80s pop music (my mother once said she wished I could learn my Latin verbs like I knew sing lyrics), you’ll recognise that a constant theme in these songs is doing stuff in the great summer weather.
By this time, we’ve passed through Perigueux and the rain is hammering down. Visibility is low, except when we have the odd flash of lightening. Even the German windscreen wipers are struggling to keep up. So, the songs seem rather out of place, but I keep singing to take my mind off the rain. Although I did stop long enough to ask R to drive with both hands on the wheel.
[Ed, in wet weather, in aquaplaning conditions, the last thing you want is a tight grip on the wheel. You need to be able to feel what’s going on between the tyres and the road surface. so you can react more appropriately. I went on a high-speed advanced driving course in my MGF years ago. There was torrential rain, and the instructor insisted that I try to steer around corners at about 70mph, with only the finger of one hand on the wheel...]
Visibility is now practically non-existent as ‘Here Comes the Sun’ is sung by Steve Harley, but we can’t see it anywhere. We both join in with ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’, especially the whistling part. Twice the rain eases a little and we say we’re coming out of it, and twice it decides it hasn’t, so “ha ha ha”. Eventually, the rain eases, the visibility improves, and we can finally manage to break the 30 kmh barrier.
As we drive from Riberac, back to Aubeterre, that old classic ‘Lazy Sunny Afternoons’ by the Kinks’ Ray Davies comes on. I start singing, and then burst out laughing. The lyrics of one verse are reproduced here for your amusement. And the moral of the story is; ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’. And thank you to the Kinks for making me count my blessings.
…Help me, help me, help me sail away
Well give me two good reasons why I oughta stay
Cause I love to live so pleasantly
Live this life of luxury
Lazin’ on a sunny afternoon.