What’s Better Than 1 Queenie?
What’s Better Than 1 Queenie?

What’s Better Than 1 Queenie?

We woke to the sound of a Peacock hooting & motorbikes starting,
After packing up the tent we had some breakfast before departing,
Back on the road onwards south from Midelt we rode,
After getting fuel Kelly complained about her heavy load,
Police checkpoints every few miles but they always wave us past,
Although a friend of ours was stopped by them for driving too fast,
Forward we continue over mountain passes & in valleys we ride,
With barren lands on the left but beautiful oasis on the otherside,
Stopped at a cafe but we didn’t need any food,
Not one but two Queenie’s parked so three now viewed,
Photos taken we continued past palms & friendly locals,
Before finally deciding to make camp thirty miles from our focal,
I’d heard of Berber hospitality but never experienced first hand,
Oh my the food was plentiful, people so friendly & backdrop of sand,
A beautiful black dog of Iberian descent lived on site,
So friendly & well trained, then as night drew in the stars began to delight,
Unfortunately the pleasure of the evening was cut short in its prime,
The toilet screamed my name but thankfully I made it in time,
Today being Friday couscous was abundant on the plate,
Twice I’ve had issues & both after this, each time leaving me in a state,
Maybe I’m intolerant, maybe it’s something different,
Maybe I’ll find out next week but for now it’s coming immanant.

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