Human memory is such a strange thing: details of the past, long discarded or buried in time, can suddenly resurface and come flooding back at the slightest cue.

Something truly wonderful happened last night. Something incredible, and so significant to me that it is almost beyond words. John and I were heading back to our hotel after quite a long, interesting day visiting museums and photography galleries. I was quite tired, and frankly looking forward to bed. We were almost there, when suddenly I heard a few notes of a song coming out of a bar we were passing. It was a song I hadn’t heard in years, but which I instantly recognised.

“You give me fever!”

When I visited Paris with Charlottte in 2008,  an occasion now so long ago that it now seems a distant memory, we ended each day by visiting bars. Charlie, of course, is a great musician and singer. One night we were listening to some live music and, towards the end of the evening, C got up and asked if she could sing a song. The lady doing the music said it was okay, so my friend got up and took to the stage.

What happened then was incredible. Charlie sprang into a rendition of Fever like no other, the bass notes on the backing track seemingly synchronising with my heart beat. Thus when I head those very notes coming from that bar last night, my memory shot instantly back to charlottte standing on that stage, microphone in hand. It was an awesome, eerie coincidence, but one I found striking. For a moment these two trips were united by a few notes.

You give me fever!