A Roadtrip Playlist

I’ve returned from 3 weeks in Spain (I was working, so don’t think it was a holiday). It was an intense few weeks working on a food retreat with my friend Milli at her family ranch outside Málaga. I’ve spoken about this before, and you can read about it in my previous newsletter, Castanets and Catering.

I knew the days were going to be intense, and very rewarding, don’t get me wrong, so I’ve learned to book myself a few extra days afterwards to recuperate. Milli had the great idea of driving to Cádiz, about 3 hours away, for the night. Being my usual self, I just said, ‘yes please’, and that was pretty much the extent of my planning. Milli looked everything up. (And if you need foodie recommendations and city guides - the Cádiz one is coming, check out her wonderful Substack When in Rome. You seriously won’t regret it.)

I didn’t quite expect how beautiful the drive would be, through mountains and along the sea before arriving in Cádiz, a city that seems to have slightly paused in time. Beautiful squares, kind people and a seriously relaxing place to be.

On the way back, we’d planned to stop for lunch slightly off route, but when Milli checked how long it would take us to get back to Málaga, pick up the rest of my things and then get me to the airport, we quickly realised time wasn’t on our side. Lunch was abandoned and we turned around and drove.

I think there were some problems on the motorway, because our route suddenly took us onto one of those country roads with a single lane in each direction. Let’s just say that me worrying about missing my flight, combined with massive trucks coming towards us on a winding road, did not make for a particularly relaxing drive.

So I did the only thing I really know how to do in these situations and told Milli to find Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 2.

The 2nd movement came on. And I think it definitely did something.

Somewhere along the way I asked Milli what I should write about for this week’s newsletter. She said, ‘Why not make a roadtrip playlist?’

Which got me thinking: what actually makes good music for the road? It probably depends on where you are in the journey. Sometimes you want something bright to get you going, sometimes something that can happily sit in the background, and sometimes you need Rachmaninov to calm you down on a winding road with trucks coming towards you.

So rather than one particular mood, I’ve put together a playlist for different moments of a road trip: setting off, open roads, changing scenery, night driving and finally getting there. Eight pieces to keep you company along the way.

This feels like setting off. Mendelssohn wrote the symphony after travelling through Italy, and the opening has that unmistakable feeling of excitement and movement, as if you’ve finally left the city behind and the road has opened up in front of you. It’s bright, energetic and probably a little more enthusiastic than I usually am at the beginning of a long drive, but that’s exactly why I’d put it first. Most people need something to get you going.

Once you’re properly on the road, I want something that can just roll along with you. The 3rd movement of Dvořák’s 8th Symphony has this beautiful swaying quality, somewhere between a waltz and a song, and it never feels rushed. Dvořák filled this symphony with music inspired by the countryside around his summer home in Bohemia, and perhaps that’s why it feels so right when there’s actually something worth looking at through the window.

There comes a point on a drive when you need the landscape to get bigger, and Sibelius is very good at that. The final movement of his 5th Symphony starts with strings rushing underneath you before those enormous horn chords appear, apparently inspired by Sibelius seeing 16 swans flying overhead. It has movement, space and that wonderful sensation of suddenly seeing something magnificent in the distance. Ideally, this is the bit where the mountains appear.

Not every part of a road trip needs to feel cinematic. Sometimes you just want something cheerful playing while you talk, look out of the window or argue about where to stop for lunch. The opening movement of Schubert’s 5th is light, easy and wonderfully uncomplicated. It’s also written for a relatively small orchestra, without clarinets, trumpets or timpani, which gives the whole thing a particularly relaxed feeling. Good driving company rather than music demanding your full attention.

This one obviously stays because it started the whole thing. Sitting on that winding road outside Málaga, worrying about the time and watching enormous trucks come towards us, this was what I asked Milli to put on. The 2nd movement begins so quietly, with the piano slowly emerging from the orchestra, and somehow the whole thing seems to be sustained mid-air. It didn’t make the road any less winding or get me to the airport any faster, but for a few minutes it made everything feel considerably calmer.

This is for when it gets dark. Respighi is probably better known for enormous orchestral works like The Pines of Rome, but this little piano piece is almost the complete opposite. Quiet, spacious and slightly hypnotic, it feels made for that strange part of a long drive when you can no longer see much beyond the headlights and the occasional lights in the distance. Definitely one for an empty road.

At some point, you need waking up. Janáček’s Sinfonietta is famous for its huge brass writing, although the 2nd movement begins rather more mysteriously, with the music gradually gathering energy and colour. There’s something slightly unpredictable about it, which I like for a playlist like this. After all that beautiful, flowing music, suddenly you’re paying attention again. Perhaps save this one for the moment someone says, ‘How much longer have we got?’

And finally, something for approaching wherever you’re going. The slow movement of Grieg’s Piano Concerto begins with the orchestra alone before the piano enters so gently that it almost feels as though it has wandered into the music. It’s calm without being sleepy and beautiful without trying too hard to announce itself. I’d put this on for the last stretch, when you know you’re nearly there and can finally stop checking the arrival time every 3 minutes.

There’s no single soundtrack for a road trip, which is probably the point. The scenery changes, your mood changes, and sometimes the piece you need is the one you didn’t expect.

So, where are you driving to, and what would you put on?

Have a good Sunday! x