We arrived
at Zeebrugge
then drove to
our first
base camp
at Bruges
only to find
our tents
were not there
so we slept
in a caravan
over night
in cramped conditions.
In the morning
I was up first
so walked
to the nearest shop
and bought a small loaf.
I nibbled it
on the way back.
I was the first one in
the cafe
had a coffee
and croissants.
The girl Dalya came in
and sat at my table
she had ordered
the same.
She complained
about the caravan
and overcrowding.
I listened
as she moaned
and lit her a cigarette.
We sat talking
and smoking
until the other members
of our group came in
each one was moaning
to our guide
and driver.
He explained
about the reason
said we'd get
a discount from
our overall charges.
Then our tents arrived
we loaded them up
on top our mini bus
and set off
through Belgium.
I sat next to Dalya
and the Aussie guy
who said little
but gave her
the smile and the eye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem