We Hit The Road
By Reuben Whitehouse
10 November 2007
We upped and left and hit the road; We sold our shit (and good) stuff for a lighter load
We camped with friends and went to devon; We camped with horses in New Forest; livestock heaven
We ate curry breakfast and legged it for the Ferry; We met a friendly bloke who had his very own Buddy
We sat up on deck and braced from the wind; We watched the happiest man we'd ever seen jump around and run about and sing
We looked back at England and the grey weather; We felt the free'est ever; I've never felt so clever
We were living in a mobile broom cupboard; We were eating cous cous, lentils and homous
We were loving life in the big French forests; We were drinking sweet Rum, to the Captain, in homage
We were surfing daily and nightly sometimes too; We were washing weekly (or maybe monthly if your name happens to be Boo)
We were getting used to life without fridge-cold beer; We were getting to know each other again like in previous years
We were stronger then than we'd ever been before; We were more content with less, than with more
We didn't know when the rain would stop; We didn't know the van wasn't sealed from big rain drops
We didn't care much though at times it was a chore; We didn't know that long rainy nights in a van, without Jack, would be such a bore
We didn't look back at any one time; We didn't know where we'd be a couple of months down the line
We didn't stop drinking rum at noon; We didn't (at times) stop drinking all afternoon
We didn't think about whether there was life on the moon; We didn't once, no not ever, honest, wish we had a big comfy bed in a hotel room
We didn't and wouldn't and don't still care for what; We didn't and don't miss ie. work, and the clock
We had ups and downs in our life on the road; We had sleepless nights kept up by beeping toads
We had more peace than we'd ever had at home; We had more time to think and drink, and measure how long our hair had grown
We had so much time to read and relax; We had so much time to watch rain drops on the windows; making tracks
We had simple food and more coffee then ever; We had hard-rockin' Elevenses of cigarettes and beer
We had no restrictions of where we could go; We had to consider our options though; the van was so slow
We had to making running vehicle repairs; We had to stop halfway up mountains like old people on stairs
We'll do it again; once we have enough to give up; once we have the money and another little yellow van
More Photo Essays
Party Portraits
By Tim Smith-Laing. 13 May 2008.
Portraits of my friends taken over various evenings with ultra fast film.
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