Planes, Trains, and Toilet Woes

In bathrooms feeling like a fool
July 6, 2007
Mainz, Germany
About 30 km from Frankfurt

Salutations!!!

Last full day of my European tour with Daddy and more importantly Daddy’s credit card (I’m just kidding Dad I promise, but I am Momma’s Daughter :) ). Tomorrow when I have time to spend in the airport I’ll write the Prague update and finish the Munich entry. It will also include our adventures upon a Czech overnight sleeper train back into Germany, which consists of adventures starring young Czech passport control officers in the middle of the night with me dressed in pajamas and first class treatment thanks to the local hookup made by Jitka, a Dell employee.

Tomorrow, 07-07-07 is a big day for me. While I’ve always wanted to go to Europe, I’ve been longing for England for what seems like my entire life. No exaggeration is necessary when I say that I’ve been reading English novels since middle school, had tea time since elementary school, been fascinated with English history for years, and have watched British Comedies on Saturday night PBS even before I could understand most of the humor. That being said, tomorrow is THE day. I’ve been brought to tears with excitement twice (which those of you who know me know that is hard to do) and have been so pumped all night that I’ve been playing Elton John in the hotel room. There is an Imogen Heap song “Can’t take it In” from the Chronicles of Narnia that befits my mood right now. Yes Mom, we own it.


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So, for all you Blog Light readers out there, this is for you since the last entry was so dense. I will attempt to enlighten all of you to the reasons why Elaine has looked like a moron throughout most of Europe.

1) I look European enough that I get people coming up to me talking in random languages. This wouldn’t be so bad except I tended to not notice and accidentally completely ignore them since after awhile I tune out Czech and German background noise. This happens on a regular basis. How do I handle this? Act deaf and walk away. Not really, but you get the picture.
2) I didn’t want to get pick-pocketed in Prague, so I took my small backpack that I’ve been wearing and flipped it around to the front of me (so wearing it backwards.) This just makes me look like I’m practicing being pregnant or something and just generally a freak American tourist with no friends. Also, when I would get cold, I wrapped my arms in the space between me and the backpack to be like a muff, which I’m sure just didn’t help this situation. At least I wasn’t wearing “wild and crazy guy” Czech pants.
3) Toilets and bathroom visits in general.

Number three needs a bit of elaboration and a few visuals. I would bet money that at least once everyday I will spend at least three times as longer than needed in a public bathroom trying to figure out how to work something. It could be anything. The lock on the stall door, the facet, the paper towel machine, the soap dispenser, toilet paper, and most commonly how to flush the toilet. This has been a plaguing problem throughout the entirety of my trip.

It was very obvious in Austria the inherent differences in toilets from the beginning. First of all, the toilet bowl itself is a shallow dish and when you flush the water flows over this into the pipe which is only at the very front of the toilet. Very little water in the bowl to start with. Most Austrian toilets are like this, including the one at our apartment as seen here. Also note example one on flush types, it is a panel you push on the top. Additionally, this push panel comes in a variety of different sizes and positions on the top. It could be as small as an inch wide in the back to half the tower.

In addition to this, there are toilets that you pull down on the upper water closet cord (picture Victorian toilets) or have a choice between big flush and small flush (doesn’t ever work) on the wall which is just two big buttons, sometimes it is tiny button on the tower of the bowl or on the wall. Also, doors to stalls in old buildings sometimes don’t shut right/lock right since the floor is uneven, which once resulted in an improperly locked door at the Volksoper and someone walking in on me. I pulled a Marilyn Monroe in my dress. The language barrier on that was rather amusing. I thought I had seen it all and recovered from the learning curve.

Turns out the rest of Europe shares in the toilet woes. In Hungary I spent 5 frustrating minutes in the bathroom trying to push what looked like a button on the top of the toilet. Turns out, you pulled up on this button like the mechanism on a talking doll.
I’ve been on countless train toilets, which are like airplane toilets on crack. I’ve had some bad experiences on, or rather off, these. I didn’t understand that you have to spin this little black wheel thing to shave off soap bits for a few weeks and once I flushed and water came dripping out of the ceiling on me [older train.] But Daddy promised it was clean water so I wouldn’t freak out. Also, sometimes to get water you have to pump it with a pedal.

In Bratislava I burned my hand in the sink because the hot/cold water was backwards to normal American standards and not marked.

I reached a peak frustration in Slovenia at the castle. Here is the picture and the game. How do you think you flush this toilet?

Normally, it would be the silver panel in the middle of the wall. Nope. See the black rubber half ball in the corner? You step on that to flush.

There are two types of flushing mechanisms in the US. Public toilets and private toilets. Take some notes Europe.

To add to this, there is our weird bathroom in Munich with the giant window and a bathroom in Prague where you have a clear view of the urinal through the shared trough sink if you bend an inch over and look in the space. No, I was not being a perv, but rather was startled when I heard male voices right in front of me.

Much love from a toilet bowl called continental Europe,
Elaine