Doggerel Dave

On Tour.

Arrived at Durham, a nice little town        

Famed for a cathedral of world renown. 

I stayed at a pub attractive enough   

Pleasant, olde worlde, certainly not rough.    

 

But however, contrary to their boast   

They catered for drinkers and weren’t a host   

To weary travelers such as myself -     

Sightseeing tourists but without much wealth.   

 

A room at the top of long winding stairs   

Had no opening window to take the airs    

And lumpy bed and a broken shower:-    

A change was made after some (ah) bother.  

 

Bed was better though the toilet was slow  

Tricky to flush with intermittent flow.   

The wardrobe comprised two hooks on the wall, 

An  entire room furnished just like the hall.    

 

Not even a chest of drawers provided;    

This left me well and truly dumfounded.     

While downstairs was charming, almost antique, 

Upstairs became a nightmare, so to speak.  

 

My window’s view was a cobbled rear yard  

It’s charming character could please a bard:   

(However I own that bard isn’t me;                  

A sensitive soul would certainly flee).    

 

There in the corner stood a stone privy   

Ancient, very small, covered in ivy         

And leaning against a mossy stone wall,   

Used by staff and customers one and all. 

 

British closing ain’t wot it used to be,   

Landlords discretion now seems fairly free:    

Regular closing hours gone by the board,  

“Last Orders” is a cry now rarely heard.       

                                                                   

So business lasting through the wee small hours 

Denied me sleep’s restorative powers.                           

Sounds reached upstairs without interruption; 

Passing hours signaled no reduction.

 

Drinking beer, the client’s main interest,   

Increases the body’s need  to divest          

Surplus ale from a bladder distended.    

And so any hopes of peace were ended.  

 

The pub’s steel back door lead to the gents, 

When used without care the noise was intense, 

Its source a self closing powerful spring     

And bell providing a discordant ding.    

 

The toilet door was also a shocker,    

No way a swinger more of a rocker;      

It’s hinges shot, the creak and rasp not good,   

No carpenter called to service the wood.   

 

Then sometimes when someone went to the loo 

I heard only one door rather than two;   

This was distressing as where was that rasp?

All tension left sleep right out of my grasp.   

 

The state of that dunny would stir some dread: 

Perhaps some patrons used the wall instead?

A theory confirmed around six o’clock  

When I experienced a further shock….   

 

As after half an hour of fitful doze     

Up came the howl of a high pressure hose 

Blasting the air with a terrible roar.  

Then dawn broke and they could inflict no more…

                                                                              

Well I endured this for my three night stay,     

Newcastle came next – I was on my way.  

The peace and quiet of a big city-                  

Sounds ironical but have some pity, 

For by comparison it really was luxurious paradise….