You can't really do road trips in the UK. Well, not as I imagine them to be possible in the USA. Even so, my letter P selection links in to the nearest I ever got to doing a regular road trip.
I used to live in Devon, my parents in Kent. Consequently I got to know the drive between the South-West of England and its South-Easternmost point pretty well. Sometimes I had my children with me so music to keep us entertained was important. I'm pleased to say that Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were a cross-generational favourite.
The route I took went past Stonehenge so Tom Petty often provided the accompaniment to a quick stop at the 'henge for a pee before heading on to the horrors of the M3 followed by that monument to traffic congestion, the M25. Somewhere in the preceding sentence there ought to be a joke about rock music and a load of old rocks, but I'm not sure I can be bothered. You have a go if you want to.
Here's the man himself, not looking like an ancient monument.
And here's Stonehenge. When I was a child we would stop there on our way to holidays in the South-West and I would clamber all over the stones. If you try that now, guards dressed as druids will appear and shoot you with Tazers.
Also-rans: Gene Pitney. I once went to a Gene Pitney concert, I think mainly because I was the only person who would take the review tickets. He struck me as being not very tall, but had a mighty voice. He reminded me of a person I used to know called Walter, who had mental health problems. This was not because, like Walter, Gene Pitney went around going "Hello, Curly" at people, but because they both had a slightly vulnerable look to them.