A year of writing ends in the Indian desert
A cold beer in hand and sweat on the shirt
Smiles plastered across our victorious faces
Reminiscing on the spills and the wildest places
Our passports arrive to wild celebrations
Time to enjoy the good Indian vibrations
The Rickshaw Run - very much done and dusted
Our majestic vehicle looking comically rusted
We left our passports at the last hotel
Turning back turned out to be a hard sell
Onwards we stumbled towards the finish line
Three siblings hell-bent on finishing the storyline
At a stop in Jodhpur we were chased by an old bearded man
Who whacked our dear Rickshaw with a stick in his hand
We snuck away in a hurry, honking through the crowd
Team 'Look Mum No Passports' alive and proud
Monkeys dancing on the road
The car ahead laughed and slowed
A fatal error - the dancing stopped
The leader signalled and on they hopped
Monkeys dancing on a car
We pointed and laughed from afar
The leader caught my eye and flexed
Muscles bulging, we were next
To celebrate surviving
So much Indian driving
We went suit shopping
With our eyes popping
Swanky sauve silky suits
Pants that gently hug the glutes
To top it off, a chai while we wait
Dapper boys without a date
90's dance music pulses through the gym floor
Each beat is met with a spandex roar
Tight tank tops and bulging veins
The cross-cultural concept of getting gains
Late bloomers tense their life's work
While some gym bunny in the corner goes berserk
The fans offer respite from the Indian heat
Newcomers flex their arsenal, eager to compete
The day we almost lost a Rickshaw to a truck
Was the day our convoy nearly ran out of luck
The trouble began at a congested intersection
A truck slowed to a halt right in our direction
The rickshaw in front swerved around the back
But clipped it, and was carried like a backpack
The truck felt the extra weight and slammed on the brakes
The rickshaw collapsed but thankfully everyone was safe
Hot chai
Roadside
Cold hands
Big plans
Morning
Yawning
Slight grin
Begin
And now a moment to reflect on a year
Of stories - many that I wrote about here
And so many more that challenged and inspired
Narratives that urged me on when I grew tired
These endless roads give me time to look back
From leaving New Zealand with my trusty backpack
To marvellous adventures and a few learning curves
Just a wandering kiwi and a funny world he observes
We enforce daily challenges to keep us sane
The smog does funny things to the brain
The challenges get weirder by the day
Blurring the lines of work and play
Marcus has to wear his clothes back to front
Dan is sent on a goat selfie hunt
I'm given a watermelon that I have to hold
Driving, showering, in bed when it's cold
This sprawling, heaving marathon
Through it all, Dave rolls on
Over mountains, dodging cows
Passing temples with swirling vows
Smog and dust and monkeys patrolling
Through it all, Dave keeps rolling
The next bend brings little fear
This marvellous machine will get us there
We dig our heels deep into the sand
Back to heavy breathing in this breathless land
After a late start we slip back on the road
All our dear belongings hazardously stowed
The rickshaws cut a lazy path through man and dust
We pull in rather early, as was previously discussed
Map slammed on the table we point and laugh (and cry)
Only another 2000km, all the more time for chai!
Goa baby! We roll in to dropped jaws
Ukuleles belting out of beaten up Rickshaws
There's no time to gloat, we're straight into the surf
It might well be the last day on this Earth
Fully clothed, Barney slow walks into the sea
We all buy flashing bow ties to begin the festivity
I'm light on the details following but one thing's very clear
In India there is no easing out of first gear
A day of dodging and dogged concentration
Endless hand sanitizer and rehydration
Dave purrs along with remarkable ease
The engine splutters with a hint of a wheeze
The streets are chaos and it's getting dark
Along the road the dogs begin to bark
It's dusty and noisy and we need to sleep
Terrifying horns herd us like sheep
Costumes and sound and chequered flags
Flimsy vehicles seemingly made of rags
Grown adults squealing like kids with candy
Grab the toolkit - that might come in handy
The group disperses, oh shit, where to go?
Let's follow those guys, they might know
They didn't know, but despite going askew
We had unwittingly formed the 'got soup' crew
Screams, a thud - someone's landed on me
Marcus. That's Marcus - I scramble out of the debris
The rickshaw's on its side and there's glass on the road
Ashley's out too, she's gone into full medic mode
Indians arrive from all sides, I'm Ok, I'm OK!
Am I OK? Shaking, I do a quick survey
Tears and laughter and anger and relief
My time, our time, could have been much more brief
A New Year's party that will go down in folklore
To help us forget about what was in store
A boat then a drum then a cultural soiree
Of weapons and fire and an eyebrow display
Fellow drivers dressed as babies or dinosaurs
A snake made an appearance, a momentary pause
The dance floor heaving with fleeting hope
Blissfully ignoring our adventure's scope
He sat there, resplendent in canopy green
Rickshaws circled us but they went by unseen
A walk then a hop then a triumphant run
We greeted our dear rickshaw like a newborn son
Dave, we would call him - reliable Dave
Dave knows how to have fun and how to behave
We looked at each other, a mischievous grin
Time to spruce Dave up and take him for a spin
Four dishes, each spicier than the last
Prepared before us in a cooking class
'Masala' simply means a mixture of spices
If you're heading to India my advice is -
Ready your senses for the inevitable onslaught
The tastes fight for attention like some internal sport
At the end of our dishes we marveled at the skill
Bellies on fire, but this was no fire drill
We laid out Ashley's team items on the floor
She couldn't have possibly fit any more
16 boxes of tissues I tell you
For any issues regarding the loo
They weren't small boxes, they were packed to the brim
16 boxes! We needed to trim
Our little vehicle would be bearing the load
Wobbling and bouncing its way down the road
The three siblings all in one place!
Each loopier than a shoelace
All tied together by a rash decision
To traverse India - without fatal collision
Our faces showed courage, our stomachs a mess
What lay ahead was anyone's guess
It began in the South in a place called Kochi
A crash of colour and sound, and the air was smokey