But, honestly, I didn’t really expect all the other little differences between bathrooms. My previous trips out of Australia, prior to moving to Europe, had only been to Asia. Obviously you’d expect some differences there (e.g. squat toilets flushed by buckets of water, plumbing that can’t handle toilet paper, that sort of thing). But moving to Germany, I was qute naïve. I packed my Little Squirt, a device used for washing the soiling off nappies and directly into the toilet bowl. The Little Squirt hooked up to the toilet pipes in Australia and was one of the best purchases a cloth-nappy using household could make.
I did have some idea that the Little Squirt might not be compatible with the German toilet. However, I was unprepared for the fact that German toilets had no external pipes at all. The back of the toilet fitted directly into the wall.
My German bathroom - note the way the toilet pipes, cistern etc are all concealed behind tiles
I was unprepared for other German toilet issues, too, such as the matter of the Shelf Toilet (also known among my friends as the toilet bowl with Obervation Deck). Truly frightening, these toilets catch your bowel motions and hold them up on a shelf, out of the water, in order that they may boldly present themselves for your inspection before you flush. Nobody can help looking at the shelf's offerings, even if they don’t want to see. (An informal survey of fellow foreigners in Germany revealed that we all had the same horrifying problem of involuntary but compulsive stool inspection when faced with these abominable toilets.)
An Observation Deck Toilet (or ODT) may be useful if you live in a region (or an era) where you need to check fastidiously for worms. It may also be useful if you’ve been landed with medical orders to ensure that your stools are strictly 3 or 4 on the Bristol Stool Scale. But, honestly, I had one eye on that chart myself for months after childbirth, and I managed fine without an Observation Deck.
My hatred of the ODT was so great that, had my German flat been fitted with one, I probably wouldn’t have rented the place. It was bad enough using an ODT at a friend’s place, or in a shopping centre or café, without having to put up with one at home. Even when no bowel movement was involved, a trip to an ODT was always a revolting experience. If I needed to be put off my own bodily functions (and I didn’t, as I already found them disgusting enough, thank you), an ODT would have done it straight away.
And so, it was with great pleasure that I left German toilets behind and headed for the UK.
- Normal bowl shape: check.
- Free to use in public: check (no more worries about running out of small change to take my little girl on her third trip to the loo).
- Children’s toilets, wheelchair & pram accessible toilets and nappy-change facilities, all easily located in public: check.
The UK is a great place to be out and about, in terms of toilet availability (unlike Germany, where few parents venture out with nappy bags, possibly because there are so few baby-change facilities available that expeditions are mostly kept short and timed to occur between changes and feeds). In the UK, toilets are easily found, accessible, and in my experience, generally kept in good order. I don't need to leave the house with a mental Toilet Plan. I just go out, safe in the knowledge that there will be toilets. No need to panic.
My one, unexpected gripe is that my friendly local toilets all seem to flush with levers, rather than with buttons. And so, my little girl, who used to be so proud of going to the toilet, and wiping and flushing all by herself, can no longer flush every time. She tries hard, practising many times a day, but she’s frustrated that, just like when she was younger, she needs an adult with her for every trip to the loo.
Lever flushes, however, are a small price to pay. As far as I’m concerned, a British toilet is a good toilet.
A humble example of a standard British toilet - note the pipes, flush and normal toilet bowl
I just picked up a book "Xenophobe's guide to the Germans" for Iva. They also mention the shelf toilet... Whatever.
ReplyDeleteWhat I want to know - how can you fix a broken toilet if the plumbing is all hidden in the wall?
The tiles around my German toilet look like they'd been removed and replaced, possibly more than once. So, I guess if you need to fix the toilet, you have to break into the wall. Doesn't seem like the most convenient arrangement to me.
ReplyDeleteAs for the shelf toilet, I hadn't even THOUGHT of the "sitzpinkel" issue until I read men's complaints about shelf toilets. Stuff like that is useful to know, so that you can avoid making a foreigner's faux pas, whether or not you're a xenophobe! :)