The food and travel writer on tunes that help her recall Bangladesh boat trips and vodou-rock nights in Haiti
In 2013 I travelled overland from London to Tbilisi, Georgia, by train with my husband. Or at least we attempted to. There were rail replacement buses galore, but I have happy memories of Munich beer gardens and hanging out on the perfect-for-people-watching terrace of the Hotel Moskva in Belgrade, and, most of all, of finally getting to Tbilisi. We rented a room in a sprawling house run by Manana, an elderly, gregarious and generous Georgian who would ring the old rotary telephone in our bedroom and bellow, “Sturgeon shashlik, 10 minutes!” This polyphonic song, typical of the Georgian tradition, suggests long road trips through the Caucasus, even if we never did get to Guria in the end.