Arrived in Palma, feeling no calmer.

Travel trauma, the reps a charmer.

Stressed head, I should be dead.

Take off, was tough.

Rough flight, held on tight.

Did I mention, sat next to an engine.

Heavy landing, much more demanding.

The transfer bus, too much fuss.

Standing only, balancing poorly.

Documents then, show them again.

Belts starts moving, everyone moves in.

Reaching out, there’s no doubt.

Mines black, pick it up, put it back

Round again, all the same.

“That’s ours there”, a point and a stare.

Angry men, charge in again.

Smiling wives, calming types.

You said Gate B? I said Gate 3

Where’s the bus? pull and rush.

Grey haired driver, stronger than wire.

Puts bigger cases into smaller spaces.

Climb the stairs, ignoring the stares.

Hand luggage squeezes, coughs and sneezes

Twist the spout,warm air comes out.

Radio Spain, guitars and pain.

Transfers and stops, last of the drops.

Orange sunrise, sticky tired eyes.

High numbered doors, last of the floors

If you want, the restaurant.

El desayuno, ha terminado

No No No, No No No.