Worst Places To Wake Up In Durham
THE ONE brings you the worst places to wake up in Durham
With the kingdoms of dirt you might find yourself peeling your face from in Castle Leazes or Bodington, what better place to wake up hungover than in the picturesque city of Durham, right? Well, according to these stories apparently not.
One Cuth’s second year, upon regaining consciousness in the early hours of the morning, removed himself from the thighs of his comatose conquest and realised the quaddie’s much-vaunted capacity to induce astonishing amnesia. This caused him to panic amongst such unfamiliar surroundings. Indeed, he was so startled that he immediately made for the door – trousers still round ankles – and begun his audacious escape. This proved more difficult than he first thought; every sign was in Japanese and the communal areas of the building were clearly occupied by far-eastern students.
Now convinced a standard night that begun in Cuth’s bar had ended up in the Orient, he began sprinting through corridors, desperately attempting to escape or – at the very least – be reassured that the formidable power of vodka, orange and cranberry juice hadn’t transported him across the globe. Needless to say a combination of alcohol poisoning and Vietnam-style flashbacks to his grotesque sexual misdemeanours prompted an overwhelming urge to vomit that only served to hinder a swift getaway. After a solid 10 minutes of rampaging through this bewildering place, he finally discovered an exit. Half expecting to see the bustling streets of Tokyo, he had in fact been trapped in Teikyo Univeristy’s campus on the outskirts of Durham.
One Hild Beder, having braved the reality of Loveshack Saturday in the hope of improving town-gown relations, retired unsuccessfully to Pizza King. Here his night took a turn for the Casanova. A certain young ‘lady’ took a shining to the slick second year. Waking up the next morning in Sacriston, five miles from Durham, in the full knowledge that therapy may be needed to erase the horror of the previous night’s copulation was bad enough. Having to leave out of a window so that his conquest’s young daughter, chaperoned by her grandmother, wouldn’t see the man who had so recently been defiling her mother was worse still. Realising you’d left breakfast (last night’s left over donner and chips) was the bottom of the barrel.
One student – who claimed to be a 4th year from John Snow – maintained that he had woken up one fine winter’s morning on the deck of the Prince Bishop. No further details were given and, sadly, this tale cannot be verified; but I think we can all appreciate such a bold effort to break out of Stockton.
Other unpleasant episodes include
– Waking up on Castle Roof
– Passing out on the toilet of your college parent's house
– Waking up with arms wrapped around a tree outside Hild Bede
– Finding yourself in bushes in Grey when you go to Hatfield
– Coming round in the Loveshack loos after the premises had been locked up
– Staggering out of the phone booth on Palace Green
– Waking up on the hill. Anywhere.