The Trabant in Snowy Prague

In Prague’s old heart, where history breathes,
Through snowy streets, my Trabant weaves.
A relic of the past, in shades of grey,
A journey unfolds on this winter’s day.

Beneath the spires, where echoes linger,
My Trabant hums, a nostalgic singer.
Through winding lanes, where tales are told,
A canvas of white, the city unfolds.

In whispers of snowflakes, secrets untold,
Prague’s mystique in each story, it holds.
Trabant’s engine purrs, a rhythmic rhyme,
As cobblestone streets freeze in wintertime.

Past ancient bridges, by the Vltava’s flow,
My Trabant glides, a ballet in the snow.
Casting memories on each frosty pane,
In Prague’s embrace, a timeless refrain.

Through castle shadows and narrow lanes,
My Trabant journeys, where history remains.
In a snow-kissed waltz, with the city in view,
A poetic ode to Prague, my journey anew.

The Mole and the Trabant

In the heart of Czechia, where snowflakes dance,
A mole embarked on a journey, a trance.
Behind the wheel of a Trabant, so small,
Through winter’s embrace, it bravely crawled.

In tunnels of white, the countryside unfolds,
A mole in a Trabant, courageous and bold.
Fields of frost, a pristine delight,
As the little car cruises through the night.

Snowflakes whisper secrets in the cold air,
The Trabant and mole, an inseparable pair.
Through hills and valleys, a magical ride,
In the Czech countryside, with snow as their guide.

Headlights cutting through the wintry veil,
A mole at the wheel, leaving a snowy trail.
Furry chauffeur in a world so divine,
Driving the Trabant, a masterpiece design.

Through the Czech winter, a whimsical chase,
The mole and Trabant, a picturesque embrace.
In the snow-kissed landscape, a tale to be told,
Of a mole’s adventure, in a Trabant, so bold.

On the Bus

Another day, another journey.

In a world of wheels that spin afar,
Through landscapes vast, like a shining star,
An adventure awaits, a journey to keep,
On Flixbus I embark, a ticket so cheap.

With passport in hand, I cross the border’s gate,
Leaving behind the lovely Czech state,
To Poland I journey, a land little known,
On this international bus, I am not alone.

The engine purrs, as we glide through the miles,
A tapestry of scenes, nature’s delightful smiles,
Mountains and meadows, rivers that flow,
Outside my window, a captivating show.

The bus hums along, with a rhythm serene,
While I sit back and relax, in a tranquil dream,
With WiFi on board, I’m connected, it’s true,
Sharing my travels, with loved ones anew.

New friends I may meet, from lands far away,
Sharing stories and laughter, along the way,
As the sun sets on this cross-country ride,
Memories of international bus travel abide.

So, here I am, on this Flixbus grand,
Exploring new horizons, hand in hand,
International bus travel, a joy untold,
Unveiling the world, as my story unfolds.

Beer, Bratties and Bread = Belly!

The threat is real! The problem is, how can you resist?!

In lands of beauty and hearty cheer,
I set my sights on Poland, so dear.
But alas, my indulgence took its toll,
For beer and bread burdened my belly’s role.

Oh, Poland, land of pierogi and stout,
I reveled in feasts, without a doubt.
Yet with each gulp and bite I consumed,
My waistline expanded, my vigor entombed.

Germany, a land of rich cuisine,
Sausages and pretzels, a tempting scene.
But as I roamed through cities vast,
My bloated belly slowed me down at last.

Czechia’s beer, renowned and revered,
Quenched my thirst, but left me smeared.
For as I wandered through lovely old streets,
My heavy gut reminded me of my feats.

So heed this caution, fellow wanderers brave,
Though temptation beckons, be wise and save.
Moderation is key, a lesson well-learned,
For excess indulgence leaves your belly churned.

A Riverside Stroll

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