Tuesday, November 27, 2018

And Vango was his name.....


When it arrived, we spread it out
Upon the lounge room floor
A Vango Mirage 300+
From an Aussie online store

We weighed up all the benefits
Of several potential homes
In the end we settled on
This semi-geodesic dome

We needed something big enough
For us and all our gear
Seduced by it’s roomy vestibule
With length and height to spare

Coloured green for camouflage
With day-glo orange ropes
To prevent us tripping in the dark
Like a pair of drunken dopes

It sheltered us in Portugal
England, France and Spain
Through heat and wind and thunderstorms
And rains upon the plain

It didn’t see a lot of grass
Just rock hard ground or sand
But it was always there for us
This was not a one night stand

Most people know of Van Gogh
He of the starry, starry night
But our canvas is the work of art
(Polyester actually, ‘cause it’s light)

So for once our tent comes home with us
To leave it here would be a shame
It’s tough and strong and done the job
And Vango is it’s name

That’s Vango…….V-A-N-G-O,

Vango






2 comments:

  1. I’ve read some odd odes in my time,
    But yours could be the oddest,
    The tent looks like any old tent to me,
    As a home it’s what agents call modest.

    I guess you have to sleep in it
    To appreciate its features,
    Keeping you snug and sheltered
    From nocturnal foreign creatures.

    Your brilliant blog has been a joy,
    My “must read” every day,
    I was sorry when it ended,
    And now’s the time to say

    Thank you, Pete and Julia,
    For your international guide,
    Here’s to more stirring adventures,
    With Vango along for the ride!
    xxxx

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    Replies
    1. Hahaha, absolutely classic! Great poem Anne and obviously the writing genes come from my side of the family - Pete does alright because I mentor him (or torment him, one of the two....)
      It was an absolute pleasure to write this blog and have our friends and family along for the ride.

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