The soundtrack of a traveller

Whilst I like music I am by no means a fanatic. I don’t particularly keep up to date with new trends or have any idea when new releases are coming out. The range of music I listen to isn’t especially broad and I will often listen to the same song repeatedly once I find one I really enjoy - often to the annoyance of the people around me.

I particularly dislike being asked what type of music I listen to - unfortunately given that this is one of the first questions many people ask when getting to know someone - as, quite simply, I don’t really know. I could say I enjoy most genres to different extents whilst there are a handful that I don’t/can’t appreciate; there is no real passion there for me as many people have.

Rather, for me, the songs that resonate most powerfully with me have little to do with the genre, beat or lyrics. What matters is the memories I associate those songs with, be they happy or sad. For example, I will always have a particular affinity to Queen having grown up listening to them with my late dad; whenever I hear a song by them it brings fond memories back to me.

This power of recollection and association that music has has become increasingly apparent to me as I spend more time on the road - and when looking back at my experiences over the past couple of years. Music is not something one can avoid - not that I would ever want to - and as such a constantly evolving soundtrack to my travels is created.

This past summer was dominated by music. After hearing songs such as Maneskin’s Beggin or Jerusalema by Master KG multiple times a day for nearly two months it would be fair to say it is nice to not have to hear them repeatedly. Yet, at the same time, when I do hear those songs it brings back all the positive memories and emotions of an incredible time spent at English Cool Camp in Romania. It is also nice to imagine that the 2,000+ kids we worked with this summer experience the same positive recollections.

An important part of these camps - that also occur occasionally on the road in general - are the campfires. Often the symbolic end of each camp they are emotional moments as the happiness of celebrating a fantastic week is juxtaposed with the sadness of saying goodbye. At times there is that one person with a guitar and a group forms around the campfire. Some cynics find it cliche or cheesy, but those moments as everyone gathers and sings emotional songs can be very powerful - particularly for the kids.

Away from these more choreographed experiences of music are the moments in which I have unexpectedly stumbled into. A perfect example of this is one that I have written about elsewhere in more depth on this website. When walking through Ghent I stumbled across a jam session between a large group of music students from the city; I stayed and watched for hours as they took turns taking the lead on the piano or using their guitars with everyone singing along and creating the most convivial of atmospheres. Ghent is one of my favourite cities and I have no doubt that this memory contributes considerably to that.

Elsewhere, in Bulgaria, the hostel in Varna in which I found myself was one which celebrated music. In ‘normal times’ they would invite musicians to stay for free in exchange for playing gigs and they bragged about having over 1,000 different acts stay, all of which were pictured on the walls. Unfortunately it was not ‘normal times’ during my stay there, as COVID still dominated life and there were very few travellers. Instead the hostel was mainly occupied by Bulgarians who were either on holiday or those on who had fallen on hard times.

Nevertheless the owner's passion for music still thrived and, with no live music in his own venue, he invited his guests to join him in attending a local gig with his friends. With few details, myself and Mary who I was travelling with, decided to give it a go and it was certainly a unique experience.

To get to the stage on which the band was performing we had to walk through an indoor skate park which was being used by many, barely-padded young children. Just through the door, in the adjoining room, a heavy metal gig was deafening the audience, some of whom were indeed the parents of the skating children. Often some children would roller skate through the bouncing crowd, barely avoiding collisions with headbanging metal-heads and aggressive mosh-pits. At one point one mother grabbed her son as he skated past and threw him above her head and he went on to crowdsurf over the small crowd. It may not be my scene but it was undoubtedly a unique and memorable night out and I have no regrets in going.

A far less extreme musical memory came in Budapest in which myself and my girlfriend were staying in the very nice Island Hostel on Margaret Island. Having done little research before heading to the Hungarian capital we were unaware of many of the attractions, including the musical fountains located a mere hundred metres or so from our accommodation. It was only when returning back from a day-out that we walked past the fountains in full flow and were blown-away by the performance. The choreography and the lighting made for such a beautiful display that we returned more than once in the following days and now recommend it to anyone who wants to visit Budapest.

Whether consciously or not music is a huge feature of mine - and I suspect most people's - travel experiences. They bring that extra touch to the moment itself and provide that trigger that allows you to remember the moment in the future. As I travel further afield and leave Europe it will be interesting to see if and how the music changes and I will be sure to update this post when I find out.

Posted: 10/10/2021
Written by: Tom Taylor (@tomtayloor)