Whether You Want It Or Not: Super Summer Extravaganza!

It has been decreed by Privy Counsel headquarters that you deserve (the choice is yours whether to view this as benevolence or hostility) a super summer extravaganza blog post, and thus, whether you want it or not, and whether getting one is even in your best interests, you are getting a super summer extravaganza blog post! 

We have a lot of photos of toilets to get through, so we'd better get started before the leaves fall from the trees and the bears (those mythical creatures who, according to a popular idiom, crap in the woods) go to hibernate, the lucky fuckers, while the rest of us have to continue getting the bus to work in darkness while trying not to freeze our toes or other extremities off, spend the day under fluorescent lights engaged in meetings with people who can't form coherent sentences, then go home in the dark only to find that the cheese has gone mouldy and women STILL don't count as humans.

Let us keep the darkness, metaphorical as well as literal, at bay, however, by focusing on metaphorical (and, in the case of the northern latitudes, unremittingly literal at this time of year, actually) sunlight: We have a special treat for you today! Regular readers will remember with fondness and admiration past posts by Intellectual Friend. Well, hold on to your hats and make sure your toilet roll is turned the right way around - here is a new contribution from that worthy intellectual! From Greenland, no less!

I thought I would show you this private toilet, which I saw (and wincingly made use of) in a forlorn settlement called Oqaatsut, latitude 69 N, population 40 not counting a couple hundred sleddogs.

It is I believe the cosiest loo I have encountered so far in such a context (the context being the lack of running water, no sewage system (the skybound pipe behind the seat merely serving as a mildly efficient vent and stench suppressor) and the undiggability of the frozen ground).

Black plastic bag in the toilet bowl/barrel.
Suspicious yellow-tinted meltwater in the washbasin.

Helpful inscription on the wall above, "Uunga errorit", which can be interpreted as meaning "Wash here" (an injunction which I did not feel inclined to obey, especially as I had my hand sanitizer to hand), where -it is the imperative 2nd pers. sing. ending.
There was no toilet paper; but if there had been any, I'd assume by analogy with other lavatories in the country that the roll would be lying on a mouldy windowsill or on the actual and clammy floor at the very foot of the toilet. Note however the ingeniously placed wooden soapholder (what passed for soap in there looked however very unattractive) and also the purple hook and festive handknitted towel.

I should add that I failed to obtain prior permission to take this sneaky photo, partly because our host, a venerable lady and oldest dweller in said settlement, could only speak Greenlandic (and some thick dialect of it at that), so that technically it might be a case of rape and abuse of one's privacy and private property, such as it is, although I'm no expert.

But the brave old lady had cooked us lunch, bless her, and she sat and watched us eat it with great interest. [Name omitted], the only fluent speaker of Greenlandic among us, mostly declined to engage in conversation with the host, leaving the hyggelig/lagom atmosphere to thicken up to its natural slightly awkward density.

It was a more or less planned stop we had on a little sailing trip which we took out of Ilulissat, a town to the north where we spent Easter. And here for the sake of variation are a few other pics from that Oqaatsut settlement and around: the [...] house of our host [omitted due to privacy concerns], a bleak view of the village, the worthy old vessel in which we were sailed thereto, and an icefell or two.

We've seen a lot of primitive toilets in our day (for instance, this one or why not ponder this one or indeed this one), and Intellectual Friend's bog description does not scare us; being situated, as it is, in a context of rugged wilderness and base survival. Continuing the theme of rugged wilderness, but in a location which offers no excuse not to offer hygiene and comfort, let's have a look at the toilets at Tugg, a hipster burger place in Lund, Sweden, where we went one sunny day with Australian Friend.

You'd think that Lund, this eminent university town, would produce nothing but civilised functionality, but you'd be wrong. Our main critique of Tugg has heretofore centred on the fact that whoever designed this eatery decided to put metal chairs on a cement floor. Why people choose to make the surroundings in which people are supposed to eat actively unpleasant and potentially damaging to one's hearing is beyond us. Then we went to check out the loos and are subsequently also wondering why anyone would choose to make a toilet unnecessarily difficult to use, due to an inexplicable urge to pander to the 19th-century farmyard aesthetic. Let's show you what we mean.

Here is the toilet. Note the bare walls (nothing wrong with bare walls as such), the minimalist loo (again, nothing wrong with this for now), the weird and flimsy curtain stopping people outside from being able to look in, and the toilet rolls which, albeit plentiful, have worryingly been put into a rustic wooden box. It's not necessarily unhygienic but it's not exactly indicative of cleanliness either.

There are no paper towels; instead, brown (why brown? Why? Does anybody actually like the colour brown?) cloth towels have been placed in another rustic wooden box, this time placed reassuringly high up on the wall.

There are two bins; one for the brown (whyyyy?) towels, another for other waste. This is all fine.

 Now it's starting to get scary. The cistern for the toilet is an old-timey one on the wall, with a metal wire that needs to be pulled for flushing. Burlington is a Swedish brand with a nice-looking website that offers no information whatsoever about why one should use this type of cistern, whether it's in any way water-saving, or whether it's considered disability-friendly.

 The tap offers so many different types of horror that the breadth and width of the sum total of the horror is hard for the human intellect to comprehend. It's situated over a cattle-trough-like sink (why, in God's name, do hipsters keep insisting on sinks that look like they might be full of cow drool and half-chewed clumps of grass?) and is literally composed of a water-valve lever handle. It is very much not disability friendly, or indeed friendly to anyone who didn't grow up on a farm in the 19th century and has strong, calloused hands the size of dustbin lids, being very hard to turn. Also, the pipe offers only cold water. Not sure how this conforms to health and safety regulations, if at all. Note the toilet roll placed by the sink, on a wooden surface that is extremely likely to absorb water and breed bacteria, helpfully supplied by the hands touching the toilet roll.

In the manner of people who insist on serving you coffee in a glass, as if they are so far above material things that burn injuries are inconsequential (mugs have handles for a reason?), the architect behind this horror ensemble says, "I DON'T CARE ABOUT WHETHER YOU CAN WASH YOUR HANDS YOU DIRTY PEASANT ALSO STOP STARING AT ME AND GO CLEAN OUT THE OUTDOOR PRIVY NO I DON'T CARE THAT YOU ARE DYING FROM CHOLERA YOU SCURVY MALINGERER".

The door has an old-timey handle and no coat-hook.

The water pipe has a pressure gauge. Personally, we'd have preferred a sane and hygienic tap.

We're grateful that we were in such charming company, or bad things might have happened to our mental state. Swiftly moving on before anyone develops tuberculosis or gangrene of the soul, let's contemplate these interesting pictures from New York, described in Shewee Fiend Friend's characteristically terse staccato style.

Ok I'm in a weird speakeasy

They only have whiskey

And all vegan food

The bathrooms

Are beautiful

But

No paper towel or soap

Not sure how they're supposed to do that without soap
Our waiter left the bathroom before me
Also

 

 I knocked the toilet paper over

Afterwards we went to burp Castle

There are paintings of drunk monks everywhere
The toilet was disappointing

The toilet per se may be disappointing, but we see much entertainment value in the graffiti, for instance the "PODCASTS???" scrawl (we don't see the point in them either - why listen to people breathing weirdly into a microphone when you can get the information much quicker by reading?). Also we enjoy, as ever, almost seeing people.

We asked whether Burp Castle was a typo, but learned that it wasn't:

Nope that's what it's called

It's a monastery esque place

You're not allowed to speak above a whisper

 We suggested that you then "can't get drunk as there would be a great risk of laughing raucously?", and the following pithy exchange took place:

Shewee Fiend Friend: I guess? Unless you are good at getting drunk quietly
Privy Counsel: You might as well just inject yourself with melatonin and go quietly to sleep

 Jonny has been no slouch this summer, sending us many excellent contributions with messages which, readers of this long and pontificating post will be delighted to know, are short to the point of abruptness.

The conversation for this one went as follows:

Privy Counsellor: So many things going on. Care to make any comment?

Jonny: Not at this time.

Privy Counsellor: You have the right to remain silent.

According to the diploma this urinal is located at the Flying Duck in Ilkley, and has been twinned with another toilet somewhere.

Continuing the Ilkley theme, Jonny writes:

Nice toilets

Someone wee'd on the seat which is infuriating

But nice nonetheless

Hamiltons Cafe just out of Ilkley

This reminds us of that time when Shewee Fiend Friend's flatmate "created small pools".

This sink, thankfully, does not resemble a cattle-trough, though the taps are that worrying breed of subjunctive mixer taps.

Semi-Intellectual Friend has also been in touch, offering this commentary on our ongoing Jonny Babe Parade:

Johnny looks shit hot. Shit hotter every time I see him on there in fact. I reckon he's one of those Paul Rudd types that just grows increasingly into their own good looks.

Yes, we naturally asked Semi-Intellectual Friend's permission to share these words, and got the following response:

If you ever want to share my compliments about Jonny on the blog (or any mutual friend (that I've just not met yet)), totally go for it. He's got Hollywood magnetism and the world needs to know about it.

 
Finally, in a triumph of 19th-century farmyard romanticism, we offer this picture of Jonny, dressed as a cowboy, in front of a sink shaped like a cattle-trough.

WE HAVE ONLY ONE THING TO SAY AND THAT IS "GIDDY-UP!!!"

For today's Festive Video, let's have something that evokes the midnight sun and the hope of good plumbing, as well as offering a mild dose of 19th-century barnyard aestheticism (hopefully a mild dose may ensure a vaccinating effect, like cowpox).

Festive Video: Maxida Märak and Downhill Bluegrass Band, Nikesunnas Jojk

Related Reading

All posts featuring Intellectual Friend

On toilet roll orientation: Rocking, Rolling, Ranting 

A medieval lavvy seat: The City Museum in Winchester: Circling the Drain

Yet another medieval lavvy seat, the finding of which was reported in the Guardian, the link to which article was probably sent to us by Shewee Fiend Friend:
Helle's toilet: 12th-century three-person loo seat goes on display

All posts featuring sinks that look like cattle-troughs

All posts featuring Australian Friend

All posts featuring Sheewee Fiend Friend

All posts featuring Almost Seeing People

All posts featuring Jonny

On the difficulty, for some people, to aim: (Don't) Aim for the Stars 

A post in which we hold forth on the topic of subjunctive mixer taps: The Hirschsprung Museum, or, Revising the Status of Denmark, or, Feverish Paranoia

All posts featuring Semi-Intellectual Friend

Let's Party Like It's World Toilet Day!

We think you should spend today in a haze of riotous champagne consumption. Why do we think you should spend today in a haze of riotous champagne consumption? Why, because it is World Toilet Day, of course!

Only two things in life are certain: death and taxes. When/if something pleasant does occur, therefore, one should seize the opportunity to celebrate! With, if at all possible, reckless abandon!

One thing that cheered us up recently was encountering a small boy who proclaimed his favourite colours to be pink and purple, and spent an inordinate amount of time making not only a mud pie, but a mud pear torte, and a darling mud vegetable soup with a blue plastic-cap garnish. This progressive small boy did all this while remaining totally un-harassed and un-bullied. Cred to his parents! Cred to his school! This brief, but by no means unimportant, encounter filled our heart with joy, and caused us to exclaim, jubilantly: "Take that, patriarchy! UP. YOUR. ASS."

The world is irrevocably fucked up in all manner of ways, but some things are becoming less fucked up, as illustrated by the parable about the small boy above. Another thing that is slowly improving is humanity's attitude to water and plumbing. More and more people are thinking about sanitation and water preservation. For instance, Feisty French Friend has promised us pictures of her soon-to-be-renovated bathrooms, which are going to incorporate water-saving sinks, and Bogsley Hansson Friend reports that the Arcola Theatre in London already has them!

Bogsley Hansson Friend writes:

The bog at the Arcola Theatre in London. Going to see The Rivals there in a bit. Had a nice DIY feel to it. And impressive curved combo bog / sink unit. Alas did not try it out in all its glory. Although have to have incredibly long arms to reach the bog roll. Or stand up. [Editor's note: You're not supposed to be standing up. You're supposed to be embracing riotous champagne-induced leglessness.]

Sturdy toilet roll holders also bring joy to our heart!

Woof! A water-saving sink! The water you wash your hands with is used to flush the toilet.

We just adore ventilation pipes, too.
This one is accompanied, Bogsley Hansson Friend insists, by mood lighting.
Let the dancing commence!

More than one person warmed our heart by sending us this link to a thought-provoking BBC article about toilets around the world. Billions of people don't have access to things that many of us take for granted - clean drinking water and somewhere safe to go to the toilet. Lack of sanitation holds economic development back, and causes untold suffering due to preventable, unnecessary diseases. However, lots of organisations are committed to improving sanitation around the world, for instance Oxfam, the Gates Foundation, Water Aid, and ToiletTwinning.
We think that's worth celebrating!

Let's have a riotously festive video! Yeahh!!

Festive video - Emmylou Harris, Two More Bottles of Wine

Related Reading
All previous Word Toilet Day posts:
World Toilet Day 2013 - Hurrah for Toilets, Even Crap Ones!
Why Today Is a Toiletally Important Day
World Toilet Day 2011 - Taking Our Baths and Our Women
It Finally Happened - World Toilet Day

A related story, incorporating the above-mentioned Feisty French Friend (who, by the way, is prone to literally forcing champagne down her friends' throats):
A Morally Improving Story for World Toilet Day

Another water-saving toilet at the Museum of Wine in Chinon, sent to us by Quasi-Intellectual Friend:
On the Nature of Academic Friendships

In other news:
CHRISTMAS IS COMING
Have you considered turning your back on mindless consumerism and instead benefiting mankind by spending a penny on Oxfam Unwrapped, WaterAid, or ToiletTwinning? Or why not donate to Amnesty International, or your local women's shelter?

The Royal Toilet at Kronborg: "A Foul and Pestilent Congregation of Vapours."

Bunden i vejret eller resten i håret!*
We spent an utterly, utterly festive day in Denmark recently! We simply couldn't imagine a better-spent day; we devoted literally the whole day to photographing Danish toilets, checking out syphilis exhibits in museums, and drinking beer!
Actually, we've got UNBELIEVABLE amounts of photos of Danish toilets, so many that we literally don't know where to begin. But we reckon it's always safest, when one is dealing with people prone to OCD, to arrange things either alphabetically or chronologically.

Vil du tale lidt langsommere?**
Since the Danish language is fucked up beyond repair, however, we won't be able to do an alphabetical account of the toilets, and have therefore decided to start with the oldest toilets, at Kronborg Castle.

Hvor er toilettet?***
Turns out that Kronborg, which observant readers will recognise from Hamlet, is full to the brim of Danish toilets!

Mit luftpudefartøj er fyldt med ål!****

A throne fit for the King of Denmark!

For now, it's got a bucket in it (in case adventurous tourists take historical re-enactment a bit too literally?)...

...but back in the day, a clever construction ensured that the contents of the toilet ended
up in a brick cellar. We presume that "cellar emptier" (that is, gong scourer) was not an attractive career prospect
for the up-and-coming young castle employee.

A close-up of the brick cellar.

The charming view from the window!

There was also ventilation, thanks to this attractive hole in the ceiling! Hot damn!!

Here's a very festive painting from inside the museum!
We have no idea what's going on, but there's naked people, a lion, and a ship with Danish flags!

The cannons are pointing towards Sweden - traditionally, the great enemy.
Dannebrogen helpfully fell from the sky, in order to guide and protect the Danes, in Estonia in 1219.

Danes are prone to getting philosophical, especially after a couple of rounds of snaps.

* "Bottoms up or the rest in your hair" - only used with friends when very drunk.

** "Could you please speak slower?"

*** "Where's the toilet?"

**** "My hovercraft is full of eels."

Related Reading

Christian IV's toilet at Rosenborg Castle: Blogging Something Rotten

Even more royal Danish bogs: Waltzing around Amalienborg

Another 17th-century toilet: We Receive a Postcard

More castles: Christinehof - A Woman's Er, Bog Is Her, Er, Castle?

Henry VIII favoured brick toilets. Read about one of them in the Historic Toilet Tour of York

More historical toilets: Historical Toilets, Baths and Kitchens - a Useful and Humbling Lesson
More musings on the Danish language: Tømmermænd at Café Jorden, or, Sleepless in Aarhus, or, Fear and Loathing in Jutland

Czech Mate (Yeah, Yeah, We Know, Sorry)

A friend of ours, who's a) Czech, and b) plumbing-aware, sent us these gorgeous photos from his new flat. Which is located, would you believe it, in Leeds! (The city of Leeds seems to have become rather notorious recently - see our last post on the last Great British bachelor.) Our first reaction when we saw the pictures, and we're genuinely not shitting you here, was "ZOMG, is that a genuine functioning ventilation unit???" And it was! (If you're like us and functioning ventilation units make you all weak in the knees, check out what Mr Smith is packing!) Czech Mate also says, "On the left, behind the door, is a loo with a tank built in to the wall and another massive mirror, so you can see yourself an infinite number of times if you're at the right angle". We're actually glad that we haven't seen this toilet in the flesh, as we're not at all convinced that we'd be able to contain our excitement.

Woof! We can't see the tap, but considering
the one in the bath is a mixer one, we're assuming
the one in the sink is, too.

One can indeed, if one is so inclined, see oneself an infinite number of times!
One can still not, however, see the tap in the sink.
A fact which makes one quite disappointed, to be honest.
Unless of course it's one of those vile non-mixer taps.
In which case one is immensely relieved.

We have been specially instructed to point out the bathroom scales, which recline elegantly on a kind of pedestal. Czech mate says, "You've got to have style, and how a man takes care of his scales is important, of course". We couldn't agree more.

Related Reading
Mr Smith's Plumbing - An Action-Packed Story
Turns Out Mr and Mrs Smith Have Lovely Bathrooms
Rejoice, for We Bring You Another Celebrity Crapper
Jonny and a Public Toilet - A Treat for Single Ladies
A Lovely Cavalcade of Photos
A Note on Desperate Measures

On the Tiles

As our favourite linguist likes to say, "One mustn't be too hard on oneself". The pressure has been high at Privy Counsel HQ of late; we have been rushing not just hither, but also thither, in addition to numerous other directions. In a fit of escapism, we went in search of the subjunctive, in the sense "another possible world (of desires, dreams, etc.), as in main clause optatives and in counterfactual conditionals". In other words, we went out on the tiles! So vigorously did we carouse on the tiles, in fact, that at the end of the night there were no tiles left. The evidence is visible below.

Whoever decimated these tiles did a thorough job.

That's some hardcore ventilation, yo!
We can only assume that this apparatus was installed
to get rid of the alcoholic fumes.

This sturdy pipe is the only thing still standing.

A scene of carnage: a wild animal and what appears to be a dead rat.

We had a very enjoyable time on the tiles, dancing the night away and generally carousing and also, to a certain extent, cavorting. As the proprietor of this now tile-less toilet is prone to political spasms, we thought we might also present to our readers a bathroom-related political rant (because after all life is often a serious business, tile-decimating rioting notwithstanding):

Festive video - Not the Nine o'Clock News, Conservative Party Politics

Thought-provoking, wasn't it? This level of lunacy is, in our opinion, not surprising in a country where people deliberately, wantonly, install separated taps.

The tiles - get on them!!
Image from deliciousdance.

Related Reading
Academic Excesses
Snýrt, Snýrt: Landnámssýningin
What Goes Around Comes Around
We Receive a Postcard
Blogging Something Rotten
Mr Smith wielding a meat cleaver, in a manner not unlike that of the Conservative Party: Delirium Tremens - We Indulge in paranoid Halloween Horror

Worcester Cathedral: Revisiting Sacred Ground

Alert readers will remember us mentioning the toilet-twinned toilet of Worcester Cathedral on a previous occasion. Well, count yourselves lucky - Tudor Friend has delivered on the promise to contribute more pictures! Tudor Friend says:

As promised, here is the Cathedral bog in all of its glory!

Getting to them is very strange, because you step out of the obviously very medieval cathedral into a hallway that the 1990s threw up - it actually feels sort of like you're going down the hall to a spa, all frosted glass and wood panelling, and it's a bit hard to figure out when you're actually going to find the ladies' (or gents'). (Not that I'm entirely complaining about leaving the middle ages - their toilets are one thing to which even my reenacting-loving soul does not aspire. On which note - god, I really need to give up on the parentheticals - I also have to send you photos/info from Beaumaris Castle, which is basically a castle entirely made up of toilets.)

The bathroom itself is pretty normal. Absolutely nothing fancy... the most memorable thing is that, in addition to a skylight there are vertical transom windows that were cracked open, I'm sure for ventilation, the problem being that this spring is bloody cold and the bathroom, usually the one surely warm place in a cathedral, was draughty and cold. At least they have a nice Dyson airblade hand-drier (I do like those things!), so one does not immediately fetch up with chilblains (at least not on one's hands... no air driers for one's bum...).

Whoosh, this looks perfectly respectable! We love the hygienically covered bog-roll holder,
although the disability-hostile and non-water-saving flush handle
sends shivers down our spine.

The worst kind of heresy: A spanking new bathroom with non-integrated taps!
Hygeia sinks to the ground, wringing her hands and weeping openly.
(Get sane and balanced information on the importance of mixer taps
for maintaining hand hygiene here, here and/or here.)

As we believe we have mentioned more than once, we give thanks every day for not having to encounter medieval plumbing! We thank Tudor Friend for this entertaining and informative peek at the Worcester Cathedral toilets, which are so laudably linked to Hygeia-approved sanitation projects via Toilet Twinning, and look forward to future contributions!

Related Reading
Handwashing Extravaganza
Everything you Always Wanted to Know about Toilet-Roll Holders (But Were Afraid to Ask)
A Semi-Intellectual Treat
Toilet-Twinning - Worcester Cathedral
Medieval Plumbing

Let's Talk about Graffiti

 We had the great pleasure of getting distressingly silly with a friend after having too much beer way too early in the day some time ago. The venue of our beer consumption and distressing silliness was Café Ariman, a stalwart hangout for students and other assorted rabble. Despite our inebriated state, we couldn't help but notice the graffiti on the door which, in a miraculous way, didn't overspill onto the walls. We decided this was in keeping with Swedish tradition. Let there by all means be graffiti - hey, it's both cool and decorative - but let it in no way overspill onto the walls, dear Lord no, that would look very untidy.

We regret that technical difficulties have once again created sideways pictures. If it helps, look at them while lying on the floor.

Sink with mixer tap and, as far as we can remember (i.e. we can't),
perfectly agreeable soap

Apparently graffiti on the hand-drier is ok.

Nothing objectionable here.

We believe this is the ceiling.
Note the laudable ventilation unit, cleverly disguised as a smiley with sunglasses.

Well, this was very inspiring. Let's have some more toilet graffiti, shall we?

The woes of trying a new form of expression. Image from Toiletscribble.

We couldn't agree more. Image from trombonegothgirl.

Thought-provoking. What do you think?
Leave a comment or email us if this inspires any kind of reflection.
Image from 3.bp.blogspot.

Café Ariman
Kungsgatan 2
223 50 Lund
Sweden
http://www.ariman.se/

Related Reading
Toilet-Door Art
The Intellectual Streak Continues, or, Leeds University Library Bogs, or, Yorkshire Graffitti