There are certain things that are made to be done on a road trip. Like blasting out nostalgic playlists full of songs that you shamefully know every word to, windows down, volume up, sun out. Eating multiple sandwiches on a four hour journey and knowing which are the best service stations (Gloucester, in case you wanted to know…). Listening to podcast series in silence with friends as the minutes bleed into one another, white lines flashing past, only pausing between episodes to discuss the details. Gazing out at rolling countryside or the mighty mountains; peering over the steering wheel to catch your first glimpse of the sea, or simply easing into the monotony of the motorway.
Often it’s the destination that makes a road trip so fun, but we’d like to make a case for the journey itself. Where time becomes this floating, unstructured thing; where mealtimes don’t follow any rules; where phones are left well alone (especially when you’re the one who’s driving), and emails, texts, Instagram feeds and news headlines can be ignored, if only for an hour or two. Music sounds better on the road. Albums just make more sense. Food becomes a way of punctuating the time. Conversations are even more intense or even more silly.
Especially if you live in a city like London, where driving is a novelty and rarely done unless you’re being ferried from place to place, it can feel like such a relief to take control of the wheel. To go at your own pace. Slowing down or speeding up. Time to get back on the road again.
Often it’s the destination that makes a road trip so fun, but we’d like to make a case for the journey itself. Where time becomes this floating, unstructured thing; where mealtimes don’t follow any rules; where phones are left well alone (especially when you’re the one who’s driving), and emails, texts, Instagram feeds and news headlines can be ignored, if only for an hour or two. Music sounds better on the road. Albums just make more sense. Food becomes a way of punctuating the time. Conversations are even more intense or even more silly.
Especially if you live in a city like London, where driving is a novelty and rarely done unless you’re being ferried from place to place, it can feel like such a relief to take control of the wheel. To go at your own pace. Slowing down or speeding up. Time to get back on the road again.
