June

June 30

Mel and I went to get our hands read

With trepidation I listened to what the man said

I was expecting something a whole lot graver

He said I'm kind and always willing to do a favour

I'll have a few kids - the details were hazy

I'm missing my family - not farfetched or crazy

There were other things said but mystery is fun

On the way back we walked in the sun

June 29

Doing laundry in Peru is a hands-off affair

It's great because it is cheap but just be aware

Of how many clothes you are handing across

Socks can slip through the cracks like dental floss

And perhaps buy shirts that are three sizes too big

To allow for the hilariously inevitable shrinkage

Your laundry won't be on time, or within the right hour

As of course to the Peruvian, timeliness is dour

June 28

I find dogs with clothing a little bit silly

A little garment here and there when they are chilly

It only adds to their appearance as an accessory

I say ditch the garments, let them be free

Don't let them die, just don't put them in handbags

You might as well give them Luis Vuitton tags

Spread the word, make a hashtag that goes viral

Someone must end this dog-shaming spiral

June 27

Alice went back down the rabbit hole

Alice found events difficult to control

Ryan found that Alice spoke Spanish too fast

Ryan didn't understand it all, but chose not to broadcast

Mel was deeply engrossed in Alice's plight

Mel understood it all, she's a little bit more bright

Alice returned having saved the world

Ryan needed a recap of how the story unfurled

June 26

In perhaps the biggest update, I have a new favourite fruit

The flavour leaves me with very little to dispute

Granadilla is its name, now don't be swayed

By its embryonic interior, go forth unafraid

Rip open the skin, and devour the seeds

Let yourself be taken to wherever the journey leads

After you're done, savour that sweet aftertaste

Then for goodness sake make sure you dispose of your waste

June 25

The town was deserted, had there been an apocalypse?

We had taken a two hour bus ride, one of the more gruelling trips

We were here to see a spectacular sunrise the following day

Nothing moved, no dog or child so we searched for a place to stay

After a night in a hostel, we awoke at some silly hour

The driver took us up a windy road, the air was an icy shower

By six o'clock the sun finally poked its nose above the clouds

I'm told that during the festival this place attracts the crowds

June 24

I only knew Hugh for five days, at most

He was a man who's life was never far from the coast

There was an ocean to his nature, so genuine and full

His aura was immense, it had a tidal pull

So sharp was his wit that I was never quite prepared

For his off-the-cuff, straight-faced comments that he shared

I'm thankful to have spent a moment in a common tide

This life we know is such a brief and unexpected ride

June 23

One day I'd like to own a snooker table

I'll host a weekly tournament for anyone able

To hold their own on such vast quantity of wool

The music will be sultry and the room will be full

Of friends from home and new friends made

There'll be a pseudo referee who won't get paid

A little boy watching on, drinking in every play

Little do we know he'll be world champ one day 

June 22

Hidden away in a tent lost in time

Where there were games to play and trees to climb

I remember the leap, surely the branch was too far

The dew under the sleeping bag, oh look a shooting star!

The scorching skin as I hopped along the sand

The juiciness of a plum, the brush of a hand

The scents and sounds of a childhood in my head

Nothing compares to mum's homemade bread

June 21

On the way home from a drink and a dance

I got talking with a war veteran by chance

He had shifted to the tranquil life of taxi driving 

He was warm and loquacious, he talked about surviving

And showed me photos of him in his prime

Sometimes I forget the value of time

He drove off with a toot, more stories to tell

I gave him an extra sol and wished him well

June 20

The planetarium was a night not to be missed

As it happened, we went on the winter solstice

The combination of full moon and shortest day

Made for quite a spectacular Milky Way

By chance we were able to see Saturn and its rings

Which is apparently one of the rarest things

To be seen from Cusco, due to the altitude

I left with a new interest to be pursued

June 19

Slugging around, movies and bed

The Pisco Sours went to my head

A buffet of choices to sample on the telly

And cereal abound to the delight of my belly

By bed time my body was somewhat confused

As every muscle felt completely unused

Except for my eyes, I'm not fond of that feeling

I lay awake for a while staring up the ceiling

June 18

The restaurant tonight had a live salsa band

Their enthusiasm; as intoxicating as the Pisco Sour in hand

The old man on the bongos felt like an old friend

As he banged and he belted each tune to the end

The other percussionist made eyes at a table

The guitarist played as if in front of a record label

The bass player at the back merely shrugged and grooved

Their vibes were on point, and I approved

June 17

The lodge was deserted, as myself and the staff

Were huddled behind the kitchen, watching the first half

Of a big football match, fixated upon a small TV

Candles were lit, as the game was using all electricity

The TV was a recent purchase, they had all chipped in

None of them were all that concerned about who would win

I ducked away at half time to the strange sounds of the night

To a cold shower in the forest, lit only by candlelight

June 16

Six-a-side football on a dusty, odd-shaped pitch

We're in the heart of the Amazon, and I don't have the stitch

I'm zipping around like a cat on cocaine

Defenders dive at my ankles, sometimes in vain

They're crafty, these fellows, they don't mind a bent rule

Some of them prefer to stand, perhaps running is uncool

In my head I'm Messi but I'm not sure it shows

I look like I've just been swimming at the game's close

June 15

Ants march in a line with leaves on their back

Their journey is perilous with humans on the track

The giant ones stoically carry the leaf 

The smaller ones hitch a ride, seemingly causing more grief

But no, they're nibbling away to make the leaf smaller

Others march on ahead, they're the leaf installer

I wouldn't want to have some of these in my pants

These creatures are glorious, they are leaf cutter ants

June 14

We enter the Amazon on a zoomy wee boat

Two hours to camp, it's rather remote

Bananas, candles and mosquito nets

The animals find their voice as the sun sets

We head off on a night walk through the bush

The first in line gets a gentle push

A two-toed sloth climbs furiously slow

The spiders and snakes emerge from the shadow

June 13

Am I seeing this right? Beer pong with the parents

Dad's quite happy to focus on interference

It's the girls against the boys, mum's finding some form

Mel's draining everything, as is the norm

I'm desperately trying to salvage some pride

Dad couldn't hit a cup if it was two metres wide

The boys were shameful in a landslide defeat

With our heads bowed we went and took a seat

June 12

We visited Machu Picchu but the real fun began

As we were walking along the the train tracks (always a good plan)

We entered a tunnel, there was no way around

And of course halfway through we heard a rumbling sound

Through the darkness a light appeared, revealing our faces

A mixture of horror and disbelief as we searched for human-sized spaces

Like geckos we hugged the wall, trembling but steadfast 

Then a squeal of delight as the train hurtled past

June 11

The final day of our marvellous hike

We found a dog, who shall be named spike

Spike was thirsty, so we gave him a drink

Spike became more attached than you might think

Spike followed us the whole way down

Spike stopped suddenly at the edge of the town

Spike could go no further and so

Spike howled and whimpered as he watched us go