Wyn Drabble: Motel's off-the-wall work of art

Wyn Drabble.

For me it's hit and miss with motels. I can either wallow in the luxury of a comfortable bed, a well-laid out interior and an inviting swimming pool, or I can, in the case of more "reasonably priced" accommodation, marvel at the inadequacies.

I'm not going to cover old ground here as I know I've done motel coffee to death. Suffice to say it was only a short walk to a cafe to save the situation.

My focus areas this time will be toilet rolls and artwork.

Yes, I have discussed motel toilet roll placement in the past but this was FAR worse so I am going to try describing it. Please adopt the appropriate sitting position and follow my instructions.

Now, relax your left arm and stretch it straight back behind you as far as you can manage. You might even need to bring it in a little to just behind your back. You'll need to rummage around as there is no way you will be able to see it.

Anyway, that's the general area where the toilet roll was located! It might as well have been in Peru.

Once you had grasped a portion and used it, you had to repeat the procedure, though I quickly learned to amass enough in one go to see me through, as it were. Going through the retrieval process more than twice could have led to serious back injury.

And so to the artwork. Here I use this phrase artwork in the same way as I might use hair stylist to describe Donald Trump's hairdresser.

My jaw dropped in disbelief when I saw it.

It was an original work in oil on canvas but it had no discernible merits at all. Unless it was hiding a nasty stain.

Let me try to describe this oeuvre using only words. It might have been about a metre wide and half that in height. In fact, I suppose you could say that having dimensions was its chief attribute.

The background was brown-wash with a few patches of blue. On top of that, there was no single focus, no dominant feature to attract attention. Instead it was randomly dotted with what I could only describe as poorly executed spoons or inactive spermatozoa. To the artist's credit, all faced the same way.

Placed haphazardly around them were rectangles from which extended what could have been wires but were probably just running paint.

If you have managed to picture this work in your mind, you will already be sharing my concern. It was quite simply the worst, most amateurish painting I have ever seen.

But wait, there's more! This was no mere static image.

Just as we were trying to ignore it by focusing on other activities, there was a softish crashing sound.

It had fallen from its two hooks, clearly revealing that its purpose was not to hide a nasty stain; the wall was clean apart from the two failed picture hooks.

So, what the work lacked in artistic technique or layout skills it made up for by providing drama.

The best response, we felt, was to leave it half-obscured and on its tastefully rakish angle behind the small dresser that separated the two beds.

When I had finished laughing I went into the bathroom and amassed a wodge of toilet paper which I left on the floor in front of the porcelain unmentionable for easy access later.

But then I discovered something quite remarkable. When viewed from a certain angle, the wodge of toilet paper had more artistic merit than the fallen painting. Perhaps the motelier would consider buying it to display in the lobby.