Returning to the Banana-Hoovers. Traveling, Logistics, and Nightmares of Things Forgotten

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Luckily, elephants are vegetarians. One of the Park residents, Pom, giving an ele a treat.

Luckily, elephants are vegetarians. One of the Park residents, Pom, giving an ele a treat.

My partner and I are off to North Thailand in three weeks to work with elephants. Specifically the ones at Elephant Nature Park, Chiang Mai, North Thailand. Large, grey proboscis-laden pachyderms banana-hoovers abound there, as well as many rescued dogs, cats, buffalo, cows, chickens and assorted other beasties. They’ve had 2 baby elephants since I was there last year – Navann and Dok Mai. Will I be able to resist hanging around them like a tween at a Bieber concert? Probably not. Will I be able to stop myself from trying to sneak one home in my luggage? Well, that would be a yes, because we only have a 30kg luggage allowance, and I’m pretty sure even a baby banana-hoover weights more than 30kg. Will I be able to avoid snakes, spiders and leech attacks? That remains to be seen. Last time I was in Thailand, it wasn’t out in the jungle I came close to having a snake-related cardiac arrest, it was in a town where I was innocently waiting to cross the road and one fell out of the power lines beside me! Very funny God! Read that story here. Read about the Giant Killer-Leech Attack here.

And so, the preparation begins: Continue reading →

Lizard Queen of Navarac – (Contains Lizards).

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Tiny house living has its idiosyncracys. Such as being stuck inside a small space during very bad weather. A couple of winters back I had the dubious pleasure of experiencing this while it rained for two weeks solid. After several days I got to wondering if I should tie 44 gallon drums around the outside of my wee home, while nursing visions of it lifting from the ground and gently drifting out to sea.

A bottle of wine or two combined with over a week of solitude, and three nights later, I had written a poem/saga encompassing the visions that flashed through my head. It contains lizards because I’m great fan of them and somehow a collection of lizards ornaments and doodads has grown around me over the years. Funny what happens in a 17ft-long tiny house when the rain and the wine do flow…

Never had the lizards seen a sighting like the Lizard Queen, leading from the towbar thus...

Never had the lizards seen a sighting like the Lizard Queen, leading from the towbar thus…

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The Otis Files. Otis, I Notice 6

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Sometimes when she’s washing she’ll leave her wee tongue peeping out of her mouth, which really looks dumb!

Sometimes when she’s washing she’ll leave her wee tongue peeping out of her mouth, which really looks dumb!

Otis, I notice

Likes to be clean

But you’ll never see her

In a washing machine

She uses her tongue

To comb out her fur

It’s got brushy bits on

For getting out burrs

Sometimes when she’s washing

She’ll leave her wee tongue

Peeping out of her mouth

Which really looks dumb! Continue reading →

Dedicated to Thai Roosters

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One morning in Bangkok, we were up quite early thanks to the enthusiasm of at least seven roosters on the other side of the Wat wall. I discovered that I had written a poem about them in my sleep. It goes like this:

Oh cockerels, how keen are thee
To outcrow those who whisper not
Methinks the contest prize should be
A hatchet sharp and boiling pot.

I don’t do mornings…

The Gentle Way of Phart

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Before I came to India
I took the Phart for granted
Then a case of Dehli Belly
Made my view of Pharting slanted

So now I Phart most carefully
With delicate control
(To Phart with gay abandon
Means to first find toilet bowl)

Now, if I see a meditator
Seemingly in trance
I wonder to myself
If he is merely trying to Phart

I vow that I will never take
My flatulence for granted
‘Cos now I know, in India,
A Phart is carefully planted

It takes a honed technique
True, ’tis a fine and noble art
So now I am a Master
Of the Gentle Way of Phart

And when I’m gone from India,
Back home in my country
How well I will appreciate
My Pharts can now fly free.

Ode to Indian Railways

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I thought I was intrepid
Flying ‘cross the world
Till I met with Indian trains
That thrashed my bod and bashed my brains
And rendered me to curled, pathetic
Urchin-like remains

Ne’er again will I set forth
“Intrepid be my name”
I’ll worry ’bout which platform
And how to step ’round rat swarms
And when to wake
And how to make out
Hindi station names

I was the proud adventurer
(a conqueror of travel all)
But then I had to learn to squat
With pants half mast
Whilst being rocked
Above a stainless steel hole
Smeared with (stuff I won’t say here)
Then try to wash my derriere
Long live the porcelein bowl

I’m now a humbled westerner
Who cringes at the blasting horn
And knows now why it sounds forlorn
(Tis sympathy the train does give
For those about to newly live
Intrepid journeys on the lines)
God help them, they’re about to find out…
Dude! Don’t board that bluddy train –
When you arrive, you’ll be insane!