Poetry...

Had an enjoyable evening with my old mate, Gordon, in a couple of York’s characterful local boozers: one just inside the city wall, the other just outside. It was open-mic night at the Golden Ball, and Gordon’s contribution to the live entertainment was in verse… including an ode to the clitoris (a body part too little celebrated in the poetic tradition). Returned to Otley last night, where I caught the last few songs played by a local duo in the Junction. I couldn’t believe just how much noise two guys could make (though there was some technological jiggery-pokery going on as well). The highlight was a blistering, wall-of-sound version of Leaving on a Jet Plane.

Licensed today: the main staircase at Cliffe Castle in Keighley...