I don’t believe I’m actually missing Bee Gees songs.
This weird fixation must have started at 4pm after lunch with miles to go last Monday at a fuel stop on an autoroute between Bayonne and Toulouse.
Our driver Ron appeared drained from lack of sleep, dehydration, one-too-many lame jokes and story reruns. The French radio was not receiving well and the CD I bought from a busker was more for sleeping than keeping awake behind the wheel.
Somehow Ron found an old Bee Gees – Their Greatest Hits tucked away and forgotten until this desperate moment. Before we knew it, we’re all singing with the brothers, reminiscing our youth, talking about old music hang-outs, revealing little secrets and the miles flew by effortlessly.
Bee Gees was with us for the rest of the journey till we reached the Eurotunnel crossing. That’s three days almost 6 hours per day, over and over again. It’s pretty insane. They grow on you. Like my travelling companions.
Its probably true that you’ll know a person better on a 17-day trip than a neighbour who lives next door for the past 17 years. It’s the quality of time spent with each other that bonds people rather than physical closeness.