16/07/2025
“Hakuna Matata, Foxes and Falls: Our Tanzanian Tale”
We flew off to Tanzania, spirits so high,
Chasing adventure beneath African sky.
First stop: Materuni, a waterfall dream,
But the path was a slip-slide, a mud-splattered meme.
We hiked and we tumbled, our dignity gone,
Landing on arses from dusk until dawn.
Fair play to Seamus—no rest for his soul—
He climbed with one arm and still reached the goal.
Our shoes were disasters, each one caked in grime,
So off to the car wash—we passed beer time.
Kilimanjaro beers in hand, no shame,
Who needs a pub when a hose does the same?
Then up Kilimanjaro, just part of the way,
With songs and wild stories to brighten the day.
Poor Amy, still marching, no sole on her shoe—
She hiked like a hero, as legends all do.
On safari we went, with cameras at the ready,
Lions and zebras and giraffes slow and steady.
But traffic? Oh yes, we got stuck for an age—
The peace torch came through like a star on a stage.
So we danced in the jam, full of laughter and glee,
Though one jeep lost brakes (a minor glitch, see?).
Another blew tyres, yet we stayed full of cheer,
While Gearóid got scammed for 10,000 by the tree!
“If you want to catch a fox, you gotta butter your fingers,”
That odd little phrase with us still lingers.
On the plane to Zanzibar, calm as a cloud—
Except for Dearbhla, who just laughed too loud.
Zanzibar nights? They were wild and divine,
We danced through the darkness with rum and good wine.
Though one hungover morning, not quite so nice—
Sophie met cinnamon... twice.
We toured through the spices in sun and in pain,
While Calvin stayed chill through the chaos and rain.
“African time,” he would smile and decree,
“Pole pole, hakuna matata, you see?”
Emily stirred up her witchy delight,
Making brews in a pot every magical night.
While Niamh had us guessing, and playing new games,
No two nights alike, never two days the same.
But best of all, through the sun and the strife,
We laughed and we joked and we loved every life.
No moaning, just joy, and stories to tell—
A gang full of legends who handled it well.
So here’s to the mud, and the foxes, and cheer,
To every spilled secret and Kilimanjaro beer.
