You might think that the plumbing in Turkey is of the Third World but we have been pleasantly surprised at the cleanliness of the place. We could learn a few things from these people. Because we are travellers we have to be on the lookout for toilets. Public toilets invariably have a man or woman waiting for payment and I must say this works a treat. The place is always spotless, there is no vandalism and someone takes home some money at night.
An innovation we discovered early on was a small nozzle at the rear of the toilet. For some days this little protuberance the shape of a little boy’s willy, remained a little bit of a mystery until an extra tap beside the seat was discovered. Turn the tap on and a cool, sometimes cold stream of water shoots across the passage of time leaving the seated user with a somewhat refreshed feeling in the lower latitudes. However, this somewhat delightful innovation has its drawbacks.
We were in Antalya to celebrate Sharon’s birthday and had a couple of drinks when the call of nature came. As you would expect, I was not there, so what I relate now is not an eye witness account but permission has been granted for this messy tale to be told.
I am told that women on the road do not like to sit and contemplate. They don’t pull out a rolled up newspaper from the back pocket and attempt the final crossword space in public conveniences. I have heard their action above the seat described as, “hovering,” which brings to mind a craft that blows air downwards to manoeuvre above the surface. I say this because I am not there and being a man, can only imagination how it works for them.
As the story was told to me, the small tap was turned that allows water from the cherub’s willy to spurt forth to do its deed. Water pressure in some towns has been disappointing and showers sometimes come at a trickle but in other places a torrent rushes forth. I’m told that was one of those occasions. I wasn’t there, but I find it hard to get an image from my mind. A woman, hovering above the seat, a strong stream of cool water from a fully turned tap spurting from behind, through her legs to hit the opposite wall of the small room. The woman jumps in fright and in her panic steps through the torrent to reach the tap giving her legs a wash. In the meantime a flood of water flows under the door into the hallway threatening to run into the cafe. The woman unrolls paper and forms a scrunched up levee bank against the door crack while she attempts to mop the floor with what remains of the Sorbent.
This may not be the image in her mind, but it is one that will remain with me.
I have no photograph for this event.
This one is cute, so it will have to do.
Haha, you’d think after 60 years you two would be fully toilet trained. Sounds like you’ve been having fun with toilets on this trip!
That is so funny. Is this tale told to make you feel better about your toilet paper experience? You will need to keep a blog when you return home. Not that I want to know about yours and Sharon ‘s toilet habits, but it has been good reading.