on the way
on the way
Seeing as it’s 2023, it’s probably really uncool and culturally incorrect to admit this but I love my car.
This time last year, when I was stuck at home recovering and watching reruns of my favourite rom-coms, it was when Peter Kavinsky picks Lara Jean Covey up in his Jeep for their date, and there’s an aerial shot of them driving down one of the many overlapping highways that is so quintessentially American that I sat up and said, “that’s it, I want to start driving again”. I signed up for driving school that week.
For most young adults, getting your driver’s license is a rite of passage, a first taste of adulthood. For me, it was a little trickier - the year I turned 18 I was already living away from home, and the city I was living in had an extensive and incredibly clean public transport system. There was no need for a car. Also, a car is something you get when you plan to settle down somewhere. When I’m in the car with my dad, he knows exactly what lane he needs to be in at any given time, which blind corners to watch out for, when to slow down to avoid slamming into a build-up of traffic during rush hour, and which roads have particularly nasty potholes. He knows the roads of Kuala Lumpur like the back of his hand; this city is his forever home. I was envious of this. I had never lived anywhere long enough to be able to trace the outline of a place with the kind of confidence and certainty that my dad possessed.
I was not alone in this. The friends I made in high school were from all over the world. Most of us continued to move cities, countries and continents after we left Singapore. The idea of needing a car was foreign to us, why invest a huge chunk of our savings into something guaranteed to depreciate over time, to become the owner of something that we’d never be able to take with us on our travels? A lot of my friends still don’t drive. Such is the life of someone who is transient. We have become experts in being able to up and go at a moment’s notice. This often means avoiding the things that may weigh us down. So no, I wasn’t really excited to get my driver’s license, and it became this daunting task I was forced to complete before heading off to college. I eventually got my Malaysian license somewhat illegally (you can ask me more about that privately), but a near-accident put me off driving for the next 10 years.
When I moved to Munich, it seemed like just another pit-stop in my life. We got by for the first three years without a car - the city is well connected and with protestors gluing themselves to roads more often than not, it is definitely more convenient to get from one place to another using the U or the S. But then came the pandemic, and suddenly we found ourselves isolated, isolating from others. I spent a lot of time hiding inside playing Animal Crossing, only venturing outdoors for exercise. For the next two years, I learned to keep people at an arm’s length, feeling anxious every time I had to board the U with the unlucky others who didn’t have the option to work from home. It was during this time that I began to appreciate how close Munich is to the mountains that surround it. On a clear day, the peaks lie visible behind the city outline, a majestic reminder of an escape just beyond the horizon should you ever find yourself jaded by urban culture.
The city slowly began to suffocate me, and I longed to get lost in the forest or up high in the mountains, to be away from talk about incidence rates and quarantine measures. While most COVID restrictions have slowly and quietly faded into oblivion, I still dread being in close proximity to strangers. Philip and I also found ourselves craving time away in places unfrequented by masses of people, to challenge ourselves physically with the promise of grand vistas as the reward for our hard work. I suppose that this is what ultimately convinced us to get our very first car.
When I think about why it is I love driving, it’s the freedom that comes with it. The car is this magical entity that has allowed us to escape to the outdoors whenever we want. It has given us a way to discover the world again, all while remaining safe within the sanctuary of our four doors. At least once a month, when we’re yearning for crisp, fresh Alpine air and a new view, we’ll wake up early on a Saturday morning, pack our favourite hiking snacks into our backpacks and drive down to one of the various Bayerische Hausberge that we’ve picked out from our guidebook, spending the day on the trail. Since getting our car, we’ve explored the mountains and the lakes, we’ve travelled to Austria and Italy, we’ve visited friends for weddings and weekends together. We’ve navigated snowy terrain, driven in rainstorms and caught the most vibrant sunsets.
And while I love all the places that our car has transported us to, I also love this feeling of being on the way. I can spend hours behind the wheel listening to my favourite songs. It’s made a 600 kilometre, 6 hour journey feel like 6 minutes. I don’t even mind when I get stuck in rush hour on my daily commute.
“With the freedom of the road comes a freedom of choice and the joy of hitting play on your favorite song. Just as taste and smell can evoke certain memories, the soundtrack of driving around with friends points to a specific time and feeling.”
The music that you listen to while in the car certainly has a way of binding itself to the memories you make of the places you visit. Below are some songs of significance that come to mind when I think about moments I’ve had while in the car on the way somewhere:
Video Killed the Radio Star - The Buggles
I’m a kid sitting in my dad’s old school Beetle in bright yellow. We’re probably on the way to see my grandparents. At one point, I am big enough to sit at the front with him. This car doesn’t have air conditioning, only these windows that lock with a metal latch, where you push on the glass to tilt them inwards. Often the constant breeze would lull me to sleep. When I first heard this song, I was terrified. I didn’t understand why Video was so violent, why had he killed Radio Star? And why was this such a catchy and joyful song?
Your Love (The Outfield Cover) - Bon Iver
It’s sometime between 2011 and 2012. Badminton training is over and I’m in the car of someone I used to know, with a boy I used to love. He connects his phone to the AUX cable of the car, and we’re driving to Holland Village. The only recording of this Bon Iver cover is a crackly upload on someone’s Soundcloud. It’s been over 10 years, and this song still isn’t on Spotify, so when I want to listen to it, I go back to that very same Soundcloud profile from all those years ago.
Younger - Kygo and Seinabo Sey
I’ve just gotten my Malaysian license, but I don’t like driving when the majority of the city is awake. I’m driving around in a basic Myvi with only a CD player for an entertainment system. I’ve burnt a CD specifically for the car and this is the first song on there. This song reminds me of all the late nights I’ve had after playing Catan, when I would drop Natrah and Julie off at home since we all lived in the same neighbourhood. I’ve never been good in rush hour traffic, but driving down the big 4-way intersection by KLCC as it nears midnight is dazzling. As someone who was born and raised in the city, I have found so much to love amidst the grime and the concrete. I love the glow of the skyscrapers towering high above me, shrouded by rainforest-esque foliage. On these late nights, the streets are mostly empty but the city lights glitter and illuminate the puddles left by heavy thunderstorms.
American Teen - Khalid
We’re in California and even though it’s October, we’ve managed to escape the autumn chill back in Europe. I’m wearing a mini skirt and Birkenstocks, I’m mildly jetlagged, and Aditya and Sadie are showing us around Venice Beach. Then we’re driving up the Pacific Coast Highway and watching the sun kiss the ocean, as mammoth waves crash all along the sides of rugged cliffs. Philip and I spent a lot of time in the car this trip, enjoying the views all along Big Sur, driving inland to Yosemite National Park, where we chased sunset and sunrise and were humbled by the vast landscapes surrounding us. This song will forever symbolise our first big American road trip together. I listen to this song at least once when I’m behind the wheel back in Germany, and though it doesn’t hit quite the same, there’s always a moment where I’m transported back to California, where the sun constantly seems to shine.
Silk Chiffon - Muna and Phoebe Bridgers
I’m riding pillion on Shaun’s motorbike in Mallorca. He says that the ride will be about 45 minutes, and shows me how to connect my phone to the speakers in my helmet, so that I can listen to my music as we blast down the highway on his Moto Guzzi towards a secluded Cala. My hair is blowing back and forth dramatically, the sun is so hot but I can’t feel it because the wind that I’m catching on the back of Shaun’s bike cools my skin down instantly. He ends up taking us the scenic way, expertly navigating the bike up steep, windy roads, pointing out hidden outlooks and slowing down considerately so that I can take it all in.
As I finish writing this, I’m on a flight home from Dublin. I haven’t seen Philip all week; I flew off before he came home from his week away in Frankfurt. We have a dinner date planned, and I’ll be picking him up from the Biergarten where he’s currently spending the afternoon with some friends. I’m already looking forward to those twenty minutes we’ll have, just the both of us in the car catching up, as we drive through the city to the restaurant. Maybe five years from now, the song that’s playing on that drive will take me back to that particular journey. I can’t wait to see where our car will take us next.