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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A true account of our honeymoon on bicycles.

Submitted: January 23, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 23, 2012





"A cycling honeymoon we'll have,"

Said Brian to his bride,

"We'll go to France and from St Malo

To the Med we'll ride.


"From there we'll head towards the Alps

And climb a col or two,

The Col du Galibier's really high,

But you'll manage it, won't you?


"And after that we'll cross the border

Into Switzerland.

By that time I should think that we

Will really be quite tanned.


"We have to cross the Jura mountains

Going back to France,

Then we'll taste the wines of Burgundy, 

Given half the chance.


"The journey from there and up to Caen

Should be an easy trip

As long as we arrive in time

To catch the afternoon ship."

(This should be 'ferry' but it didn't rhyme!)


So off they set along the route,

Each carrying full loads.

Wild flowers were a lovely sight

Along the country roads.


Acres and acres of sweetcorn

Were growing as they passed by,

And fields of yellow sunflowers

Silhouetted against the sky.


The sun began to get hotter,

Sweat oozed from every pore,

Never had they cycled in 

Such heat as this before.


Then presently came a thunderstorm,

The thunder crashed and roared,

The couple huddled in their tent

While the rain outside just poured.


So humid was the weather then

That though it was so wet,

It was like a furnace in the tent 

And both were soaked in sweat!


But soon the storm passed over,

The sun dried all the rain,

And after packing all their gear

They pedalled off again.


With the landscape changing daily

From forests to hills and streams,

They marvelled at picturesque villages

Seen normally only in dreams.


Then came their day of elation

As the Med came into view.

Each dipped a foot into the waves

After first removing a shoe!


Then Provence beckoned the cyclists,

So onwards to Aix they went

Where they spent the night in a hostel, 

So no need to pitch the tent.


The intrepid pair headed northwards again,

The Alps were their next distant goal,

To climb the hills along snaking passes

They struggled, body and soul.


The Col du Galibier loomed ahead,

Just like on the Tour de France,

As they finally reached the top of the col

Pat almost began to dance.


A night of real luxury followed this feat

In a hotel of comfort and style,

"This is what honeymoons should be like,"

Thought Pat feelingly - with a smile.


But this sort of luxury couldn't last

And the next day they cycled along,

Heading t'wards Chamonix nestling below

The snow-covered peak of Mont Blanc.


They decided to stay there the next day

And go up in the télépherique,

As they reached the Aiguilles du Midi

The views there were 'magnifique'.


They stood in the sun at twelve thousand feet,

Glistening snow everywhere,

They peeped down at Chamonix far below

And breathed in the clean, fresh air.


Soon it was time to move on again,

The Swiss border came into sight.

They found the Youth Hostel in Montreux

Where they were to spend the night.


The stay in Switzerland all too short, 

Over the border they went

Into France again, and the Jura,

One couple, two bikes and a tent.


And now they approached the vineyards

Of Beaune and the regions around,

But this was their longest day cycling

As a campsite couldn't be found.


So onwards the plucky pair cycled,

Arriving at last at a site,

It was already dark when they got there,

The first time they'd made camp at night.


They headed towards the beautiful Loire,

For beautiful châteaux renowned,

Near Sully-sur-Loire they camped for the night

Though the site lay on stony ground.


Continuing northwards with fields of corn

In vast open fields on each side,

They knew they were soon to leave beautiful France

As they neared the end of their ride.


After almost seventeen hundred miles

They reached their journey's end,

The honeymoon trip was a great success,

A journey to recommend.


So if you're tempted to do the same,

Remember the nights we spent

In close proximity, side by side

In a tiny little two-man tent!



© Copyright 2020 Arty Pat. All rights reserved.

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