Tired clumps of humanity at J’burg marking the commencement of the CRUISE, Anticipation growing despite a long night and too much booze.
Arrival in Harare to a greedy customs crew,
But Edson’s there to meet us and we’re off to pastures new.
A trip to Trojan/Freda and a visit to the DYKE,
While others stripped a Kombie and did other things they like.
Nightclubs in Harare, a very special band,
Then we’re off on our safari to cruise Zimbabwe land.
A mzungu at the Hartly leaves us feeling very’ sour,
But we soon forget the feeling as we near the drinking hour.
We head for the Zambezi, the lifeblood of the land,
We see THE DAM, Kariba, and our accommodation’s grand.
Embarkation on the ferry provides some very tricky deals,
But gravity from Edson, some deflation, and we’ve just preserved our wheels.
A lazy day, five hundred, that is playing cards not beers,
A balmy night, the sounds of Africa are magic to our ears.
We see the coal at Wankie, proceeded by some braais,
Then head to Main Camp, Wankie, where Dingo stirs the guys.
They’re into whitewater rafting, the rapids are so fast,
That Pasi embraces the Zambezi as it goes rushing past. The game are disappointing although elephants abound, The scenes of desolation show how many are around. We’re off to Bulawayo, for the highlight of the tour, The Silver Fox experience, where Pasi is to score.
The details are confusing, but speculation’s life,
That heroic deeds at midnight may give Pasi future strife.
We see Matopos Mountains, visit Cecil’s mon-o-lith,
And experience orgasmic layering of a pulsating bath-o-lith.
We leave for Hotel Nilton to climb the cuisine hump,
But find the nightclub opposite has snaffled all the rump.
The Belingwe unconformity holds the whole group in its thrall, But of komati- and stromato-lite, Edson shows us bugger all. So, it’s onwards ever onwards, some lion we hope to spy, But we settle for two rhino, one of which decides to lie.
We stay at the Flamboyant, the dinner’s really great,
We rise at five to see the dawn but are stymied by a gate.
The Great Zimbabwe awaits us, its simple beauty is a draw, With its majesty and mystery, we’re really left in awe.
The Great Debate then follows, hypotheses and prose,
Dingo Phil is really into it, with snuff stuffed up his nose.
Some witch doctoring and palm reading stir up a plivileged few,
Then it’s back into our kombies and off to pastures new.
We head on down to Renco, the pulse is racing now,
To see the gold in granulites and explain the why and how.
Our visit is like magic, we solve it in our stride,
The Key Centre is triumphant as we educate our guide.
Another deposit in its box, we leave, SOME OF US SLOW, And head for the magic of the great greasy green Limpopo.
River Ranch is like paradise, the bar is open too,
As we end another great great day and a velY happy crew.
Tom has lectured lengthily on diamonds and their source,
Then’ it’s off to see the open pit and the kimberlite’s mighty force. Security is incredible, but the diamond room’s a thrill,
No-one dares to take a photo, not even Phantom Phil.
Edson’s disappointed, he isn’t in the search,
To “shake-down” female bodies as part of his research. Then the long drive to Harare, planned by Vincent Ban, Back to Cresta Oasis where we consummate our plan.
While DIG works on as usual, the markets others shop, Our fond farewells to Edson, then on our plane we pop.
We survive a bumpy take off and soon in J’burg land, To be met by Chaffer’s brother, who takes us all in hand.
No restful ride to Milpark, no chance our cards to play,
As we’re introduced to J ‘burg, it’s geology all the way.
A pleasant night in Randburg, then it’s off to Premier Mine,
The kimberlite pipe’s fantastic, the underground trip sublime. We’re off to see the Bushveld, we’re really on our way, But first at Ghetlane Lodge we cruise the night away. The UG2, Merensky, we’re really flying high, Hypotheses are presented, the limit is the sky.
A balmy night at Ghetlane, then out to Dwars in awe,
To wonder at the chromite seams that “extend” for metres or more.
Tony’s mag. suss. readings show that fluids flowed through there, And leave current models in tatters, much to Grant Cawthom’s despair.
A lazy hour at Pilgrims, then to Crystal Springs we head,
A bouma night and spotting game and then we’re off to bed. The escarpment view then beckons, and for animals we pay, But they all turn into concrete, and the trees get in the way. The next stop is at Nelspruit where a granite stop is made, It’s bloody hot and humid and no-one makes the grade.
A balmy night at Barberton sees us drink far too much beer, And the next day out at Fairview a number feel quite queer.
Like battered little vegemites, we climb back on the bus,
To travel to Johannesburg and a night that’s now for us.
Leipoldts is a marvel where game and fish abound,
And the Boshendal Blanc-de-Blanc more than goes around.
A night of presentations where compliments are rife,
Tony is a stirrer, Phil is a cruiser, and Pasi’s still in strife.
The final day’s highlighted as the depths of Wits we plumb, And negotiate the passageways without falling on our bum. We reach the plane exhausted and off to Perth we fly,
Our memories are stiffing and there’s an odd tear in an eye.
We’ve left old DIG behind us, we’ve worked him to the bone, But his heartfelt thanks go with us, he no longer feels alone.
We all have vivid memories of aspects of the tour,
It’s only whet our appetite for more and more and MORE.