A Glorious French Manifestation of Intellect Combined with Stylishness

Well, strike us pink with a medium-sized bath towel if there isn't a lot of stuff happening! We thought things couldn't get any more exciting after Feisty French Friend sent us photos of her renovated bathroom, and Tudor Friend shared an article about what happens when you run out of toilet roll onboard a Virgin train - and then, whoosh! even more events occurred! Being protective of our readers' mental health, we won't overload you with everything all at once, but rest assured that there are lots of posts, full to the brim with rampant enthusiasm, vim, and brio, coming in the near future.

For now, let's quickly look at Feisty French Friend's renovated bathroom, before we get too distracted and/or our short-term memory deteriorates even further. France is in the news today, and we reckon French intellectualism could do with some solidarity.

We just learned a new French expression, and we're not afraid to use it:
Putain de bordel de merde, but that is a lovely toilet! Note the water-saving brilliance!
(See more examples of the indiscriminate use of French expressions here.)

We approve hugely of this shower, which has two shower heads! This arrangement gives one the option of using the stylish-but-impractical-for-people-wearing-glasses-or-not-wishing-their-hair-wet wall-mounted shower head, or the sane and normal attached-to-a-flexible-hose variety. (Get more ranting on this subject here.) 

We wonder if it takes a French person to renovate a bathroom into a glorious manifestation of intellect combined with stylishness? Perhaps we are confusing Feisty French Friend with her bathroom (for Feisty French Friend can, verily, be described as "a glorious manifestation of intellect combined with stylishness"), but this ability to achieve chicness fused with rampant intellectualism appears to us particularly French.

However, that's not to say that a similar design can't be achieved by other nations - does Feisty French Friend's bog remind us of something? Of course it does! It reminds us of a photo by Justin Townes Earle, that notorious American singer of songs, which we published back in the days before we ran out of songs we could denominate Toilet Songs, and write special posts about. This particular Toilet Song post was called Toilet Song - Harlem River Blues, and was pretty festive, as Toilet Song posts go. The toilet in the photo is, as you can see, remarkably similar to the French one above, with its practical yet beautiful tiles. However, its charm is perhaps best described as rugged, rather than intellectual.

That time when Justin Townes Earle posted a picture of a toilet on Twitter.

In other news, the inherent misogyny of toilet queues is finally being discussed in the international media (thanks, Tudor Friend!), and not merely in terms of examining the lunacy displayed at every level by those dirty old Victorians. We'd love to do a more in-depth analysis of this subject, which is both important and interesting, but we can't be arsed right now. Also, bad things tend to happen when our posts get too long.

Hastening towards the end of this blog post, therefore, we've got a festive video which we find corresponds well with reality, especially the bits about how beer is good and people are crazy (you know what we mean, you darling, fucked-up bitches).

Festive video - Billy Currington, People Are Crazy


Related Reading

A similar water-saving toilet from the Museum of Wine in Chinon, photographed by Quasi-Intellectual Friend: On the Nature of Academic Friendships
(This is rather a favourite post of ours, actually - it's the one in which we describe our friends as "fruitcakes". Because what's not to love about fruitcake!)

Another water-saving toilet, at the Arcola Theatre in London, kindly shared by Bogsley Hansson Friend: Let's Party Like It's World Toilet Day!

A gorgeous contribution from Feisty French Friend - an actual video! Of a toilet!
Musings on Labels. Oooh, Hang on, "Label" - That's a Whisky, Right?

That time when Australian Friend broke the toilet at Feisty French Friend's wedding:
Amie Australienne Va au Mariage, Casse Toilette (Australian Friend Goes to Wedding, Breaks Toilet)

More pictures from Feisty French Friend's wedding, and more misapplied French interjections: 

In Which We Indulge in Poetry and Out-of-Context French Expressions

In Which We Indulge in a Feminist Rant and, of Course, Incontinence

Having read yesterday's post on the mind-boggling incontinence of our acquaintance, you are naturally eager for more. Well, you're in luck, because we seem to spend all our time talking about urination these days! For instance, we had a conversation with Tudor Friend about whether shewees are feminist or not. Shewee claim that shewees are not "an act of feminism", but we would argue that they are! (We're not having a go at Shewee - we adore them! It's just that we personally view the shewee device as liberating in a way that we define as feminist!)

We acquired our first shewee after going for a stupidly long run with Quasi-Intellectual Friend, who is prone to beard growth and exaggerated athleticism. Having been annoyed by not being able to heed the call of nature with the same ease as Quasi-Intellectual Friend, we were very pleased with our plastic funnel. Quasi-Intellectual Friend, of course, mocked it, claiming to be happy with his "hewee". While we are not of the opinion that a woman must be "like a man" in order to achieve equality, we do nonetheless acknowledge that being female has certain physiological setbacks, and not being able to take a piss comfortably when in the outdoors is one of them. (Read Shewee Fiend Friend's account of reclaiming her womanhood and pissing all over the countryside here.)

Viewing the pictures of members of the Privy Counsel trying the public urinal in Hoxton square with their shewees, Tudor Friend remarked:

The latest Privy Counsel post is amazing! Wow, your friends have wet themselves a LOT!!! But I 100% agree that squatting is impossible, my knees and quads are not up to it, and even hovering is really, really not on. It's good to hear someone else agree! I always have people look at me like I'm a total pussy for not having perfected the out of door squat piss. So, have to ask... there's a picture of people using Shewees at a public urinal in London? Do they have anything comparative set up for the ladies to take a free wee? Those without Shewees, that is.

We replied that no, as far as we know there is no equivalent for ladies; presumably we are all supposed to be wearing crinolines. (Tudor Friend had mentioned earlier that "hoopskirts are like portable privacy-toilets... fond memories of roadside weeing in hoopskirts".) Tudor Friend retorted:

Crinolines *are* great for private-public pissing, but only if you're not wearing knickers. How can you not see [Shewee] as feminist? It's a WAY FOR WOMEN TO PEE OUTSIDE. It's giving women options, and freedom to camp!!!

We took this as licence to quote Caitlin Moran. We do love her so! Ladies and gentlemen, let's have some Caitlin Moran quotes! Caitlin says, on feminism:

We need to reclaim the word “feminism.” We need the word “feminism” back real bad. When statistics come in saying that only 29% of American women would describe themselves as feminist — and only 42% of British women — I used to think, “What do you think feminism IS, ladies? What part of ‘liberation for women’ is not for you? Is it freedom to vote? The right not to be owned by the man you marry? The campaign for equal pay? ‘Vogue’ by Madonna? Jeans? Did all that good shit GET ON YOUR NERVES? Or were you just DRUNK AT THE TIME OF THE SURVEY?”

We just fucking love this woman. Image from Tumblr.

God, that was great, wasn't it? Let's have some more CatMo:

These days, however, I am much calmer — since I realised that it’s technically impossible for a woman to argue against feminism. Without feminism, you wouldn’t be allowed to have a debate on women’s place in society. You’d be too busy giving birth on the kitchen floor – biting down on a wooden spoon, so as not to disturb the men’s card game – before going back to quick-liming the dunny. This is why those female columnists in the Daily Mail — giving daily wail against feminism — amuse me. They paid you £1,600 for that, dear, I think. And I bet it’s going in your bank account, and not your husband’s. The more women argue loudly, against feminism, the more they both prove it exists and that they enjoy its hard-won privileges.

Since we mentioned yesterday that some dude named David was once fined €30 for urinating in public, we can't argue that women are being fined for heeding the call of nature and men aren't. But men still have a free urinal in Hoxton square (and other places), while women are left with the choice of either holding it in or wearing giant hoop skirts. CatMo says:

You can tell whether some misogynistic societal pressure is being exerted on women by calmly enquiring, “And are the men doing this, as well?” If they aren’t, chances are you’re dealing with what we strident feminists refer to as “some total fucking bullshit”.

How lucky, then, that Danish designers have thought of an alternative! (If you're a regular reader you will know that we have designated Denmark "Everyone's favourite toilet country"! Basically everything we hear about this fantastic country reinforces our view!) Voilà: the female urinal!

We just adore Denmark! Image from Fastcodesign.

The Pollee female urinal from Peebetter comes in three models: Shy, Topless, and Naked (those bold Danes!). We still love our shewee and couldn't live without it, but wouldn't it be great if there were more urinals for women?

Apparently this is the "Naked" version. Image from Fastcodesign.

Having "delighted" (this being our term of choice for describing the act of lecturing our friends on stuff we like till we're blue in the face) Tudor Friend with Caitlin Moran quotes for quite some time, she said, "And I'm loving the Caitlin Moran quotes. I should look for her writing". To which we replied, wittily (our term of choice for describing our attempts at levity): "Yes! How to Be a Woman is rocket-up-the-arse illuminating!"


Related Reading

A post about our new year's party, incorporating shewees and stories of mindboggling incontinence:
Shewees Are a Girl's Best Friend!

Our very first account of shewees: 
Far from the Madding Crowd: A Walkers' Dilemma
Shewee Fiend Friend's legendary shewee review: 
SISTERS STANDING UP FOR THEMSELVES
Our post about CatMo in Denmark, everyone's favourite toilet country: 
Caitlin Moran: Our Favourite Non-Toilet-Related Person!
Our post about CatMo in a bathroom:
Joy in the Morning, Afternoon, and Well into the Night: Caitlin Moran in a Bathroom
More info on crinolines and public urination:
The Historic Toilet Tour of York

The Spirit of Christmas: Mixer Tap, Urinals, Relief

What? Christmas? When? How? Gaaah!
Once again, we find ourselves unprepared for the onslaught of seasonal festivity, due to our rather too vigorous academic pursuits. Luckily, our friends are on the ball - not only have we got some unbelievably thrilling pictures from Intellectual Friend, Danish Friend, and Danish Friend's Danish Dad to delight and amuse you with this holiday season, we have also got a spectacularly festive series of joyous Yuletide toilet photography from German Friend! Our esteemed Teutonic friend writes:

Hello there and ahoi,
Here is a little treat for Christmas, straight from that London. Mixer tap, urinals, relief, and... to while away the time during that epic pee, pictures of semi-nude belles of a an era gone by... *sigh*What more could a man wish for? Seriously! What? More?
Take care, god jul, and always have a spare urinal cake handy. You never know!

One is rather inclined to be feeling single, seeing double, again.

A bit rude, what?

Well goodness, that's a lot of nudity all in one toilet.

This is when it gets really exciting! L'Occitane soap and a mixer tap!

WOOF!

That was highly enjoyable! We feel spiritually invigorated, and ready to face another week of uninhibited festive drinking Christmas! Let's have an exuberant video to continue the celebrational mood!

Woof!

Festive video: Elvis Presley, If I Can Dream

Related Reading

Feeling Single, Seeing Double: Sct. Clemens Brewery, Aarhus

Dirty Toilets and Dirtier Minds -  A Nautical Theme

Advent Adventures: A Revolutionary New Look at the Best Toilet in England

A Christmas Story: Egils Saga

So Much Fabulousness We Hardly Know Where to Begin

Tally-ho! Life is pretty fabulous at Privy Counsel HQ right now, so we're making the most of it while it lasts. One of many fabulous things that have happened is that Shewee have generously sent us a selection of shewees to make our New Year's party extra festive!  We anticipate this being a legendary occasion, considering it's going to involve Australian Friend, Shewee Fiend Friend, a fuckload of drink and a BARRAGE OF SHEWEES! There will obviously be a blog post recording the results, once the hangover clears. (So most likely the second week in March or thereabouts.)

New Year's is still some way away, though, and there is plenty of work to be done before then, so let us get back to business and, for instance, do a Privy Counsel Book Club post! It's been a long time, but a dear friend of ours recommended a fabulous book called The Crimson Petal and the White! As a consequence, we have some Doulton-related joy to share with you! Enjoy this fabulous description of a Victorian toilet:

The employees' latrine has a much more modern and streamlined appearance, in Sophie's and Sugar's eyes, than the rest of the soapworks. A row of identical white glazed stoneware pedestals, each attached to a brilliant metal cistern bracketed under the ceiling, exhibit themselves like a phalanx of futuristic mechanisms, all proudly engraved with the name of their maker. The seats are a rich brown, glossy with lacquer, brand new it seems; but then, according to the address inscribed on all the cisterns, the Doulton factory is only a few hundred yards down the road. 

(Faber, Michel. The Crimson Petal and the White. Edinburgh: Canon Books, 2002, p. 781.)

You will, obviously, be elated to learn that, following on last week's retro Twyfords nostalgia, we have some amazing pictures of some damn well fabulous Doulton porcelain! Yes, yes, we understand your impatience - let's get on with it!

This spectacular bathroom, dear readers,
can be found at Kronovall Castle,
which we have mentioned once or twice before.

Grand, eh? Handy with a chair, too.
 One can invite a friend to entertain one while one is in the bath.

Woof! Bog-standard, but still. Woof!

This is where it gets exciting:
IT'S A DOULTON SINK!!
Ain't it a beauty!

Posh soap. It smelled delicious!

The pièce de résistance:
HAVE YOU EVER SEEN SUCH A FABULOUS BATH?

Does one get all teary-eyed from contemplating such beauty? One does.

We simply can't recommend Kronovall enough - go forth and drink their wine and enjoy their sumptuous bathroom!

Related Reading
More Doulton fabulousness: A Toilet Mystery
A lovely old-fashioned toilet: Right Up Our Alley
More Victorian toilets: The Mysterious Forbidden Lavatories of Manchester
More retro porcelain beauty: Porcelain Porn and Historical Plumbing - We've Found a Soul-Mate
More Kronovall fabulousness: Kronovall - More Castle Shenanigans
For an example of Shewee Fiend Friend's fabulous antics: SISTERS STANDING UP FOR THEMSELVES
More Victorians

We Get on Our Soap Box and Rant for a Bit about Colonialism

We've been even more historically minded than usual recently, and have, in fact, had many clever and original thoughts on everything from the Berlin Conference to rubber ducks. However, we won't bother you with them; we've got much more intriguing material! What do colonisation, palm oil plantations and the drive to "civilise" the world's heathen savages have in common? Why, soap of course!
Stubbing our toes on some interesting vintage soap advertising, we thought we'd do a feature on this, for your edification and delight.

Rudyard Kipling published his poem The White Man's Burden in 1899.
It proved surprisingly useful for soap merchants, who used it
to imply that soap spreads civilisation. "Civilisation", in colonial-speak,
usually meant "sit tight while we take all your resources
and suck your country dry."
Image from wwnorton.

Caption says:
Pears' soap in the Soudan
Even if our invasion of the Soudan has done nothing else
it has at any rate left the Arab something to puzzle his fuzzy head over,
for the legend "Pears' soap is the best' inscribed in huge white
characters on the rock which marks the farthest point of our advance
towards Berber, will tax all the wits of the Dervishes of the desert
to translate." - Phil Robinson, war correspondent (in the Soudan)
of the Daily Telegraph in London, 1884.
Harrrumpf. Cucumber sandwich, anyone?
Image from ucsd.edu.

Caption says:
The birth of civilisation - a message from the sea.
"Consumption of soap is the measure of wealth, civilisation,
wealth, and purity of the people." - Liebig
Read Justus von Liebig's Familiar Letters on Chemistry here.
Interestingly, as well as having views on the civilising effects of soap,
von Liebig is also credited with being the father
of the fertiliser industry, meaning he paved the way
for unprecedented agricultural productivity and
a previously unimaginable increase in the human population.
Read more about it in this interesting book by Robert B. Marks.
Image from Ebay.

Caption says:
"I have found Pears' soap matchless for the hands and complexion."
Luckily, if you're thinkin' about my baby, it don't matter if you're black or white.
Image from kaufmann.

Soap ads verily took some very strange turns. This one is from 1899
and features a déshabillé witch on a broom, writing the name "Pears" in the sky.
We assume sales skyrocketed after this went public.
Image from sexywitch.wordpress.com.

An Australian man insists that Last Xmas I used Pears' soap.
Is this an early instance of choreplay?
Image from Museum Victoria.

Because hygiene and homoeroticism go so well together.
Not least of the pleasures of the game is the bath that follows it.
Hygeia lustily agrees!
Image from kaufmann.

Last but not least: Is your life plagued by drudgery?
Fear not - help is at hand!
(Just bloody well make sure you have a mixer tap, like this lucky woman.)
Image from vintageadbrowser.com.

Phew. That was quite a heavy post! Let's finish with an invigorating song!

Read more on the Victorian/Edwardian-era obsession with cleanliness in two of our favourite books, The Victorian House by Judith Flanders (read more about it here), and Chasing Dirt: The American Pursuit of Cleanliness, by Suellen Hoy.

Related Reading
Book Club: Cocoa and Corsets
Toilet Song: Soda Soap
Not Nearly Enough Monkey Business
The Privy Counsel Book Club: At Home
Victorian Servants Have Taken Over the Book Club

A Draining Kind of Day

We don't know what kind of day you're having, but we're having one of those grey, muddy ones. To help alleviate the more alarming symptoms of depression, we're enjoying this picture of a Victorian drain today. As mentioned in a previous post, it was unearthed during the archaeological excavations in Hungate, York.
 The area was once a Victorian slum, and one can quite happily imagine the stench. One is grateful for modern plumbing.

Our favourite Victorian drain, in Hungate

Related reading:
Plumbing, Blessed Plumbing
The Historic Toilet Tour of York

The Mysterious Forbidden Lavatories of Manchester

Normally we at the Privy Counsel are extremely law-abiding, and would never encourage crime of any kind. However, a friend took an illegal (well, perhaps not strictly illegal. "Forbidden" might be a better, and indeed more exciting, word) picture of the toilets at the John Rylands Library in Manchester. Apparently, for whatever reason, one is not allowed to photograph these bogs. Which is crazy, because they're genuine Victorian toilets! Full of craziness! Our friend (who shall remain anonymous for security reasons) said:

"I also sat on a truly Victorian toilet in the John Rylands Library; OMG, not much has changed in the World of British Lavatories since then. Picture taking was forbidden (as these were WORKING toilets) but I managed a sneaky one."
Anonymous friend also hints that, "YOU KNOW WHAT?! They have a massive display on toilets, taps, and sewers in the Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester. I wanted to get you a postcard, but we almost got locked into this part of the museum as they were closing and kind of forgot about us. But it was all very interesting."

Ta-daa: An exclusive peek at the Forbidden Lavatories at the John Rylands library!
They look well equipped when it comes to coat-hooks, anyway...

Dear readers, go forth into Manchester, with our blessing, and explore the toilets!

Jane Eyre - Plunging into Passion

After a horrid childhood spent being cold and miserable and eating boiled vegetables,
Jane Eyre comes to Thornfield Hall to be governess to Mr Rochester's ward.
The plumbing is so-so but the views are magnificent.

Jane and Rochester fancy each other right from the start but spend a lot of time being starched and Victorian.
One night, however, Jane suggestively saves Rochester's life when his bed mysteriously catches fire.
The flames of passion are hot, hot, hot, as are the bed curtains. Jane's dress is wet, wet, wet.

Finally, during a climactic thunderstorm, Rochester gets round to proposing to his chaste and timid governess.
Their love blooms like a wild, exotic flower on the bleak Yorkshire moors.

Unfortunately, it turns out that Rochester is already married, having locked up his mad wife in the attic.
Jane figures this augurs badly for her chances of marital happiness, and runs away.

She nearly starves to death, but is taken in by an aspiring missionary by the name of St John Rivers.
St John asks Jane to marry him and go to India to convert heathens by the dozen.

Jane agrees, and her Hindi studies are progressing nicely when she is interrupted
by Mr Rochester callling her in a dream. "Jane!" he calls.

Jane reckons she doesn't want to be a missionary any more. She finds Mr Rochester, who is disfigured and blind. His voice, however - that deep, vibrating timbre - is unchanged. He says his wife is dead. Jane finally becomes Mrs Rochester, and like any god-fearing Victorian couple Jane and Rochester have several children.

Related Reading
Privy Counsel Pin-Up: Ablutions with Toby
Pride and Prejudice and Plumbing

Victorian Servants Have Taken over the Book Club

Victorian servants - a jolly lot!
(Image from Caro Interiors)

We have been reading At Home (Doubleday, London 2010), by Bill Bryson, some more. (Read our previous blog post here.) The question of the relationship between indoor plumbing and the Victorian servant rears its ugly head again, and we feel compelled to quote some more Bill Bryson at you, for your edification and amusement.

  Before the advent of indoor plumbing, water had to be carried to each bedroom and then taken away again once used. As a rule each active bedroom had to be visited and refreshed five times between breakfast and bedtime. And each visit required a complicated array of receptables and cloths so that, for instance, fresh water didn't ever come up in the same receptable that waste water went down in. [...] If a guest or family member wished for a bath the workload rose dramatically. A gallon of water weighs eight pounds and a typical bath held 45 gallons, all of which had to be heated in the kitchen and brought up in special cans - and there might be two dozen or more baths to fill of an evening. (p. 98)

  This business of carrying water and waste up and down the stairs could, apparently, cause embarrassment. Until those enterprising Victorians thought to build separate staircases for servants! Bill Bryson quotes Mark Girouard telling us that,
 
 The gentry walking up the stairs no longer met their last night's faeces coming down them. (p.105)

  Aren't you glad you live in a house with plumbing, however British, eccentric and decaying?

A cheerful lady using a chamber pot.
(Image from Summertime 75.)

Related Reading
The Privy Counsel Book Club: At Home
Lucy Worsley and Jane Austen: Historical Toilet Etiquette

The Historic Toilet Tour of York

You will find this hard to believe, but the mindboggling fact is that our readership figures go down when we post rants about mixer taps. It's true! To boost our flagging readership, therefore, we thought we'd give you a metaphorical vitamin injection, in the form of a revitalizing history lesson.

We went on a Historic Toilet Tour of York, arranged by a charming and extremely knowledgeable guide from York Walk.  This tour starts with Roman toilets, guides you through Anglo-Saxon and Viking cesspits, continues to medieval garderobes and drains, and finishes up with Victorian toilets (or the lack of them). Most informative and enjoyable - we can't recommend this tour warmly enough!

Here's a picture our guide showed us of a typical Roman latrine, the setup of which we have mentioned before. This cosy arrangement incorporates communal benches with holes atop a drain, flushed by water, often waste water from a bath. Sponges on sticks, soaked in vinegar, were used as hygienic toilet paper (though perhaps uncomfortable if one suffered from piles).

Veni, vidi, cacavi

Being fond of great literature we would like, at this point, to quote some Latin verse.

According to Wikipedia, Catullus 23 contains the lines:

Culus tibi purior salillo est, nec toto decies cacas in anno.

("Your arse is purer than the salt-cellar; you probably only take a dump ten times a year.")

Can't say fairer than that, can you?

York's multangular tower, the base of which is Roman

Next, we were briefly guided through York's Anglo-Saxon and Viking toilet remains. The less said about those the better.

Stones, pottery shards and scallops like these have been found in medieval latrines,
indicating their use as "bottom scrapers"

 At Kings Manor, we had the fascinating fact pointed out to us that this tiny window used to be the outflow of a garderobe, which Henry VIII was too fat to get into! Moreover, we were delighted to be informed that when this solid monarch visited York, he was constipated for two weeks.

Kings Manor garderobe

Henry VIII's excrement never hallowed this wall; he was too fat to get into the bog

At Barley Hall, we stopped to note that at medieval banquets, it was perfectly acceptable to do one's business in a pisspot during dinner.

During the Middle Ages, it was fairly common to stipulate the building of a public privy in your will. Thus, people could sit, shit and pray for your immortal soul. With the Reformation, however, this laudable practice was flushed away, and it wasn't till the 19th century that public lavatories started becoming common again - for men, that is. The assumption was that respectable women didn't roam the streets anyway, and so had no need for public toilets. Also, fashions dictating large skirts may have made it possible for women to do their business without anybody noticing.
However, in 1896 the first public toilet for women was built in York - in Silver Street, where public toilets were reintroduced recently (it costs 40 p to spend a penny). However, this location was not unproblematic - right opposite was a lavatory for men, and there were complaints from the ladies concerning lewd and unsuitable comments from the gentlemen, whose minds were apparently inflamed by the thought of the ladies going to the toilet.

Silver Street, site of inflamed passions

In the Richard III Museum in Monk Bar you can view this garderobe.

This toilet is no longer in use, however inviting it may look

On the outside, you can even see the outside run-off "drain"! (Usually the "product" from medieval garderobes was allowed to accumulate until there was a pile worth carting away.)

Another garderobe remains incorporated into the city wall.

A toilet in the city wall can provide useful ammunition in case of an attack

Cliffords Tower, likewise, had a garderobe

Towards the end of the tour, we went to the archaeological dig at Hungate to peep through the fence at what is being unearthed - Victorian drains! Hungate was a slum in the 19th century, and so there is probably all kinds of crap to be dug up here.

Archaeologists and Victorian plumbing

Hungate: a Victorian sewage pipe

You know you want it: a close-up of the Victorian sewage pipe

Last, but not least, let us tell you about the Lloyd's bank coprolite. This was a 23 cm long Viking turd found in 1972 on the site of Lloyds bank.

Many people had their view of bankers confirmed

That, dear readers, concludes our coprophilic tour of York. However, if you find your appetite irreversibly whetted, we recommend this highly informative book:

We got our copy from the York Walk tour guide.
E-mail info@yorkwalk.co.uk if you feel you can't live another day without one.

Related Reading
Let's Get Medieval: King's Manor Toilet
Revisiting Academia: King's Manor, Main Toilets
The Roman Bath Museum - Crap on a Stick
Nunc Est Lavandum - Bath-Time
Jorvik: In Rude Health
World Toilet Day 2011: Taking Our Baths and Our Women
Saturday on Silver Street