The rain in Spain has hit us again
It flows like a river into the blocked drains
Up on puddled paths, down misty mountain
Umbrellas like paper, like a broken fountain
Follow a mad hiker
A bedraggled biker
Where tourists are caught
By the promise of sport
Where the only culture
Is a wheeling vulture
A bleeding nose
No nails on big toes
There's always one
Who stilll thinks hiking's fun
Just follow the guide
To a hot drink inside.
I found a table where we three can sit
A free museum, and a free toilet
The best holiday, it seems to me
Is cold coffee, hor tea and good company.
-ends-
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