Bulgaria Ski discussion board

The coach chugs up it's weary road
He always does what he is told
Around another winding turn
His engine coughs, his tyres burn
His lights ablaze so he can see
Every rock and bank, and stone and tree.
Pamporovo, his detination
Bringing folk from every nation
To ski and board up in the hills
With others who display their skills
He knows his job may be quite boring
As all the passengers are snoring
But still he climbs his rugged miles
The journey back's downhill he smiles
And when he feels he's almost through
Pamporovo town comes into view
He gasps a sigh, as he hears the rep
Say 'Pamporovo' and mind the step.
A moments break, somewhere to park
As all the people disembark
And then he turns and disappears
To sleep the night, and rest his gears.

PP