The Snail Trail

Travelling with my home on my back and in no hurry to get anywhere

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Solos Travellers of the West

Thank you Willie Wagtails
The Solos of the west
The travel’s been spectacular
Your friendship’s been the best

Some of you I’ve travelled with
Others met along the track
And although I’m heading east now
I know that I’ll be back.

From the Kimberleys to Lucky Bay
West Australia is so vast
And I’ve loved every bit of it
This trip won’t be my last.

The friends I’ve made along the way
Have added to my pleasure
And now I’m leaving WA
With memories I will treasure.

From the red sand of the Pilbara
To the white sands of Lucky Bay
I’ve shared these great experiences
With Willie Wagtails on the way.

So thank you for your friendship
And your great company
I’m reluctant to depart your shores
But the east coast beckons me.

And if you travel to ‘the dark side’
I know we’ll meet once more
And Solos hugs will welcome you
When you’re on Australia’s eastern shore.

Rosemary Robinson
January 2016

Big Merino Wagin WA

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We’ve Been Ragin’ in Wagin

Big Merino Wagin WA
This poem is a variation of the poem I wrote to promote our Solo Travellers Rally in Wagin this year. It was presented on the last night to close the rally and promote our next rally in Forbes, NSW in March 2016.


We’ve been ragin’ in Wagin
The Solos Rally in the west
Where Glenyce and her rally team
Have really done their best.

We’ve had the chance to learn some dancing
Or perhaps learned how to blog
Or you might have been quite happy
Walking Wagin with your dog

The morning teas have been superb,
Local ladies made the cakes,
And Glenyce and her rally team
Have coped with all the flakes!

I’m sure we’ve all enjoyed ourselves
There’s been lots to see and do
And we’ve caught up with our solo friends
Some known, and then some new.

Our journey to this rally
Has brought us from far and wide,
We’ve travelled here from everywhere
Across the countryside.

We arrived here to enjoy ourselves
And catch up with our friends
And the rally team made sure we could
So it’s sad when a rally ends.

Some of us are roving
Down to Albany for more,
And I’m looking forward to finding out
What the ‘grown ups’ have in store.

The next time when we all catch up
At Forbes, next March or so
A new rally team will have worked just as hard
To put on a fabulous show.

So write it in your calendar,
Enjoy your journey on the way,
Take good memories here from Wagin
Look out Forbes, we’re there to play!

Rosemary Robinson October 2015

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Happy Solo

I’m a Solo, solo traveller

A whole person by myself

Please don’t call me a single

Sounds like I’m left on the shelf. 

I’m not looking for a partner

Not many of us are

We’re happy to be by ourselves

As we wander wide and far. 

We’re independent travellers

We like our own company

We’re happy travelling solo

Around this wonderful country. 

And when we pull up for the night

And there’s couples everywhere

Please don’t treat us like lepers

Your happy hour we’d love to share. 

We’re no threat to your husband

Solo blokes don’t want your wife

We’re happy being Solos

And enjoy the Solo life. 

Cape Keraudren Western Australia

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The Frozen Mosquito

(This sounds like a cocktail, doesn’t it? But it really is about a mosquito!)

We were sitting around the campfire
Telling stories, as you do,
And Dave came up with a beauty
That I thought I’d share with you.

He’d got up bright and early
And opened his fridge door
When a mozzie flew out frantically
But wait – I’ll tell you more…

Dave wondered how he did survive
Locked up in his fridge
And this is what he told us
And he swore it’s ridgy didge.

That mozzie had a scarf on
Wrapped around his neck
And coat and hat and gloves and socks
So Dave thought, ‘What the heck?’

This little frozen mozzie
That survived a chilly night
Deserved a second chance at life
So he offered him ‘Fight, or flight?’

Well, the mozzie wasn’t stupid
So he flew towards the door
Dave stepped to swing it open
But wait – I’ll tell you more.

The clothes the mozzie had on
Were stopping him from flying
He needed to strip off his gear
So he could stop from dying.

As he flew off went his coat
And scarf and hat and socks
He stripped himself of all his clothes
(But he did leave on his jocks!)

Well, Dave was really quite impressed
With this clever little blighter
And he was glad he’d given a second chance
To such a well-known biter.

The mozzie flew towards the door
Dave opened it up wide
But when it reached the outside air
It hurried back inside.

Dave thought “He’s going to thank me!
It won’t cause me any harm”
As the little biting blighter
Landed on his arm.

But a mozzies primal instinct
Is to inflict a nasty bite
Dave said “Right, you’ve made your choice!
You’ve chosen fight, not flight!”

Dave whacked his arm, the mozzie flew
So Dave reached for the spray
“Come here you little bugger,
Come here and make my day.”

The mozzie dodged the poisonous cloud
But you could tell that he was sick
Dave thought that if he landed
He would hit him really quick.

The mozzie saw the open door
Freedom was oh so close
But Dave lifted up the spray again
And gave him a fatal dose.

The mozzie spiralled downward
And landed on the floor
Despite Dave’s good intentions
It never made it through the door.

The moral of this story is
If someone bends a rule
And you take advantage of them
You may end up the fool!

Rosemary Robinson

September 2015


Disturbing The Peace

There’s nothing like a quiet morning in camp. It’s peaceful, and the only sounds are the trickle of the stream and the sizzle of fresh-caught trout frying in bacon grease. Makes me hungry just thinking about it. Then, like the nasty soundtrack from a B-rated, chainsaw-murder movie, the awful growl of an engine breaks the silence. Somebody, somewhere in the campground, has decided to power up a 240-volt AC appliance and is using a generator to supply the electricity. Aaarrrgggh!                  -copied from Camping Life

Here’s my version of the above. I’ve called it

Disturbing the Peace

You pull in to a campsite
And the air is filled with peace
You can hear the different bird calls
And the whispering of the trees.

If it’s near the sea you hear the waves
Rolling on the shore
And you’re grateful for your lifestyle
– Until you hear the gennies ROAR!

Their deafening noise drown out the sound
That nature has provided
They start them up to watch TV
And leave a campsite quite divided.

Or they want to use their microwave
Or blow dry their tousled hair
Or brew their special coffee
Or turn on cooling air.

If you want all the comforts of your home
Perhaps that’s where you should be
And leave the sounds of the great outdoors
As nature intended them to be.

They ask you not to light a fire
(The smoke affects their breathing)
But roar their generators
From morning until evening.

The constant drone of gennies
Drowns out all other sound
In quiet and peaceful campgrounds
Gennies should be ‘out of bounds’!



The Parking Roundabout.

My favourite entertainment,
And I know it’s pretty cruel,
Is watching caravanners
Who never went to parking school

I’m sure that you’ve all seen them
As they try to find a place
To park their vans up for the night
In a designated space.

The woman jumps out of the car
To give her man direction,
With gentle movements of her hand
And a kindly voice inflection.

Oh no! He’s missed the concrete pad
He’ll have to have another go
“Don’t worry darl” she sweetly says –
And I sit back and watch the show!

He puts the car in forward gear
And pulls out of the campsite,
She waves her arms to guide him back
And calls out “Go left – now right,”

“Now straighten up and back you come,
Slow down, you’re nearly there.
Don’t pull the steering wheel so hard,
Leave room to put out a chair.”

“And what about the awning?
Have you left some room for that?”
She mutters “God, he’s hopeless!”
He curses “Silly old bat!”

So back into the car he gets
And pulls out once again.
She’s getting louder all the time
With the familiar refrain.

“Go left I said, will you watch my hands?
I’m giving you direction.”
And by this time she’s not as nice
And her voice has an angry inflection

Meanwhile I sit and quietly watch
As they play this silly game,
And she flaps her arms to guide him in
But he misses just the same.

At least five times he came and went
And still didn’t get it right
So they both hopped back into the car
To find another site.

Now I know it’s not just caravans
That don’t know how to park,
And for everyone it’s twice as bad
If they’re doing it in the dark.

When you can’t see hand directions
And you’re guided just by voice
What starts out so politely
Soon becomes an angry noise.

But best of all I like it
When park managers come past
And with one attempt they park the van –
Their guests can set up camp at last.

I’ve been entertained all afternoon
As I sit quietly in my chair
And while pretending to read a book
My eyes have been elsewhere.

I’ve been watching all the caravans
Moving in and out,
And I’ve been listening to raised voices
On the parking roundabout.

I’m very grateful that my campervan
Is about the same size as a car
And I can whizz into tight spaces
Whether on or off the tar.

All I have to worry about
Is whether I am level
Then my fridge will work and my sink will drain
And I can avoid that parking devil.

Rosemary Robinson July 2015


Ragin’ in Wagin

This poem was written to promote the CMCA Solos Rally in Wagin, Western Australia in October 2015 and was shared at our Penola Rally in South Australia in March 2015

We’ll be ragin’ in Wagin
The Solos Rally in the West
Where the wild flowers are spectacular
And the beaches are the best.
And whether you come over the top
Or across the Nullabor
You’ll find that Western Australia
Has amazing things in store.

From the pure white sandy beaches
That you’ll see at Cape Le Grande,
To the rugged cliffs of Kalbarri
And the red earth of the inland.
The National Parks provide great camps
And it’s not hard to find free sites,
Where fellow travellers meet for fun
To enjoy the starry nights.

The country towns are friendly
The station stays a must
But the wind blows strong on the west coast
And you’ll never get rid of red dust.
Yet the dust’s like a badge of honour,
It says you’ve travelled far,
And you’ve ventured on those long dirt roads
And not stuck to the tar.

So make the trip to Wagin
Enjoy your journey on the way
Gather lots of great experiences
And we’ll see you in WA!