I can’t remember the last time a song so vividly transported me to a landscape. It’s hot place, a dry heat that evaporates the moisture from your eyes. The sun is bright – the kind of bright that takes the certainty out of all but the boldest colours. There’s dust, bare earth, very little grows. Walking on, past weird cacti and over a ridge, I find caravans, proper caravans, wagons drawn by horses, parked around a circle of tents. The sun starts to set, candles are lit, and people move about. A light breeze carries a rich smell of cooking, and then this song. I walk towards the sound.