Friday comes but once a week, early from work we quietly sneak.
Heading north with boat in tow, off to Kariba we now go.
Past the maize and grass knee high, not a cloud up in the sky.
Over hills with mining signs, we see the sights whilst the sun still shines.
Tobacco lands tall and green, now there is a change in scene.
Dusk comes all too soon, everything changes in the light of the moon.
Car lights cutting through the night, the road ahead our way to light.
Makuti town now far behind, into the valley we start to wind.
Swinging left swinging right, elephant droppings a common sight.
Startled buck into the bush do spring, we hear the Christmas beatles sing.
Kariba town is just ahead, soon we will stop and make our bed.
Even though it's late at night, we will be up at first light.
Launch the boat with eager hands, soon we are far from the land.
The petrified forest we do reach, sprays of rods out the boat do breach.
Tiger fish give a hell of a fight, we stay and catch into the night.
In the early hour to the land we creep, build a fire and get some sleep.
Up again at the crack of dawn, feeling as fresh as the day that's born.
Water sport with tube and skies, till we are tired on bended knees.
Now it's back to Kariba town, some glowing red some more brown.
Pack up now to homeward go, this trip back much more slow.
It's Sunday night and all are weak, as we travel back none will speak.
All thinking of the weekend had, the end of which is rather sad.
The weeks ahead will come and go, time going all too slow.
Till again the chance does come, for a water weekend in the sun.
Written by Pete Barlow 20/12/2000
Email : Pete Barlow