Cooler in the boot, the map of southern France on mum’s lap, dad in fierce concentration on the Périphérique and the kids in the back with a Rubik’s cube.
Air conditioning was still a rare luxury, but of course every car had a cassette player.
So the holiday began weeks in advance, compiling the mixtapes for the long drive: ‘Play’ and ‘Record’ in front of the radio, dubbing singles onto tape and working out which songs would fit together on one side.
The songs on those iconic mixtapes are etched into the memory of two generations: the parents who compiled them and the children who sat in the back seat listening along.
That is what ‘Het Cassettebandje’ is: a big wink at the romance of an overheated car, the long traffic jams, tea towels wedged in the windows as sun screens, counting number plates, and the music inseparably bound up with it.
