After spending many days in many different places and coming back with a mind full of images all jostling for space, who’d have thought that one of my most vivid memories would be that of … Toilets! Or washrooms. Or WCs. or lavatories. No matter how stunning the view, how magnificent the monument or how memorable the moment, I know that at some point, sooner or later (usually sooner), my eyes will start searching for this sign. And oh the relief when it’s spotted. Just knowing that it’s in the vicinity adds to my enjoyment of the place. Other people may go ‘Ooh’ and ‘Aaah’ over the scenery or gaze in rapture at paintings and sculptures, but I will be wondering if it’s too soon to ask The Question- ‘Is there a washroom?’ Or ‘Where’s the washroom?’ That is, if my progressive-lens corrected vision hasn’t searched it out earlier.
In the past few weeks I have seen the inside of numerous washrooms in places across different countries. I’ve seen them in airports, railway stations, hotels, restaurants, homes, malls, trains and planes; you name it, I’ve been in it. I’ve seen flushes that work with levers, push buttons, panels or sensors, washbasins with faucets that need to be turned or pressed or just to hold out the hands for the water to flow. At an airport, there were these taps that refused to work with any of the above. So all of us ladies were trying different ways- holding up the hands close to the tap, waving them up and down, tapping the tap, staring helplessly at the tap, until one wonder woman pressed on a discreet looking button next to the tap and lo! the water came forth.
I’ve marvelled at the copious amounts of toilet and tissue paper that gets used in these places. Rolls and rolls of them. And dispensers that spit out tissue paper in a variety of ways. Personally I prefer tissue paper to some of the hand-driers that I’ve seen: those with the slot-like opening through which you have to insert your hands for the hot air to dry them. I keep expecting my hands to get snapped off if I don’t pull them out in time.
Then there’s the size of the washrooms. Some are so large that a bath-tub would easily fit in, and others are so cramped that one wonders how tall or big-built people adjust themselves on the seat without bumping their knees against the wall in front. A very important factor is the latch. You may think it’s not a big deal, but believe me- it is! You don’t want to be inside one and find that no matter which way you turn the knob, or how many times, the door doesn’t open. (speaking from personal experience here)
Not all washrooms are free. That’s another important thing to keep in mind. Some have a barrier which opens up once the required amount of coins have been pushed into the slot. It’s the best way of using ones pennies. Other places have attendants who take your money and allow you to proceed, with a nod of the head. I remember this prim, elderly lady at a railway station who took all the coins and arranged them in neat little stacks of different denominations. She looked like she was quite enjoying herself too. But then in a job like that, one would have to be content with the smaller pleasures.
The most interesting toilet was the one we used in Montmartre, Paris. It could accommodate only one person at a time. The door you see is automatic and there are three buttons on the panel at the side. So, here’s the thing. The person inside has to press a button for the door to slide open. Once you step out, the door slides shut and a button (I forget which) lights up. This means that the toilet is getting cleaned. What wouldn’t I give to have a self-cleaning toilet in my house!!! Anyway, once the facilities are sanitised, the green (or is it blue?) button lights up. Which means that the next person can now enter. Oh, and on the other side of this remarkable toilet is a tap that provides drinking water. No comment.
I must confess however that the novelty of discovering and using all sorts of washrooms wears off after a while and one yearns for the comfortable familiarity of the non self-cleaning loo at home. I must also confess to the delight I felt when I landed at Delhi airport and saw the attachment which is now an indispensable part of most Indian toilets- the jet spray! That’s when I really felt ‘There’s NO PLACE like home!!’ Amen to that!
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