Looking at the blog this morning and seeing the different types of
toilets reminded of my trip to Europe last year. I was warned from a lot of people about the WC situation in Europe and had a bit of an idea of what to expect but never crossed my mind that I would have a problem.
In the more modern establishments the are modern facilities , some with toilette seats, some without. As we travelled around, we found that the older places , looked like our old out-house at my Grand-Fathers cottage at Lake Memphremagog except that the hole was in the floor with no seat. Just 2 stirups , one on each side for your feet. Very uncomfortable for ladies, but not bad for men in the standing position.
I didn't need to go #2 in one of those places until we were on our way home and visited Paris for a few days before our flight back to Montreal. On the second night of our stay in the Latin Quarter of Paris we were out to dinner at a nice quiet place and I had been on and off beer and wine all day.
Along with food that we were not used to. My stomach started to grumble just after we sat down. I ordered wine as usual in Europe and told my lady that I was off to the WC. It was 3 floors down in the basement, dimly lit and as my luck would have it I had to contend with the hole in the floor. Cyramic tile in the whole WC, a chain to flush, a cleaning brush and toilette paper was all that was in sight. So down come the drawers bend over and aim. As I heaved , so did the gas.
When I got back to the table some 20 minutes later my wife asked what took me so long , and smiled. I explained to her that as the drawers came down and the gas blew , I did as close a rendition as I could to painting a Picasso on the wall. Luckily it was cyramic tile everywhere. So I picked up the brush and flushed. Got new water every time and continued this way until my Picasso was nowhere to be found.