It’s strange how certain facts (like the names of my students) can prove ever elusive, while snippets of a song in a far off land can linger for years.

And, thanks to the virtues of technology, are now traceable, playable and enjoyable once more.

The first time I heard ‘Quand Tu Danses’ by Jean-Jacques Goldman was in 1997; my parents and I were vacationing in the Dordogne in a hamlet that consisted of a cluster of bullet-riddled houses, a home-bakery and some very large spiders.

There was no street lighting, television or radio, but there was a sizeable population of cockerals and chickens.

Mercifully, we had a car and during a particularly vitriolic downpour this song came on.

The melody has stuck with me and I am surprised that after thirteen years the song sounds as fresh as though it was released last week.

I suppose that is the beauty of good song-writing.

It is recommended that this song be accompanied by drumming rain on the window, a cosy blanket, frothy hot chocolate and minimal (candle, if it is knocking about) light of an evening.