(who hates foreign travel and thinks Epcot a reasonable substitute.)
I want to take a rickshaw run in a central Asian Stan.
Let’s eat nomadic take-out, fried in a wok-like pan:
manti and lepyoska, relaxing in a yurt,
I’ll wear a silk kimono. You’ll wear a yak fur shirt.
Let’s bask along a white sand beach in Old Town Zanzibar,
I’ll pick up pearl pink seashells, strum tunes on my guitar.
Sea breezes whet your appetite. The island smells like cloves.
We’ll tour the ancient Arab fort. We’ll kiss in secret coves.
Or, if you want an idle cruise along the river Nile,
you’ll photograph each pyramid and lounging crocodile.
We’ll catch a camel taxi to a Cairo marketplace –
barter for a woven rug or cotton pillowcase.
Let’s visit Machu Picchu and tour the Incan sites
with a side trip to the Gocta Falls, Niagara-like delights.
Let’s climb the stairs at the Angkor Wat and then the Taj Mahal.
I want to see it all with you, I want to see it all.
I know you like familiar, what’s alien is stress,
but understand that “Jungle Cruise” was just fictitious mess.
I promise you that you won’t miss the “magic” lands of Disney.
Let’s see the world on its home turf as it is meant to be.
