in a few words: London, XXIII
Flushing a toilet in London is an art, everyone knows. The Brits use a handle shaped like a door handle. You need to apply a certain force at a certain speed to make it work, which makes sense until you realise that the force and speed combination varies from one handle to the next.
Anywhere else I've been in the world, a couple of toilet flushing buttons would prevail. Not in London. When you first come across a continental toilet button you feel blessed. The next times become as problematic as the local handle, as London chooses to surprise you with a wide variety.
There are several types of buttons: those you press, those you find on the wall and press, those you find on the wall and wave at (no kidding!), those you never find because they've been replaced by sensors telling when you stand up—who seats on public toilets anymore?!—and those you nearly miss because they're at floor level, and pedals.
To understand the tip of the iceberg when it comes about importance of toilets, especially public ones, here are a few stories. Within five minutes, the escalator to the Liverpool Street Station in London, which sports cool flower bouquets, experienced three marvelous encounters:
Anywhere else I've been in the world, a couple of toilet flushing buttons would prevail. Not in London. When you first come across a continental toilet button you feel blessed. The next times become as problematic as the local handle, as London chooses to surprise you with a wide variety.
There are several types of buttons: those you press, those you find on the wall and press, those you find on the wall and wave at (no kidding!), those you never find because they've been replaced by sensors telling when you stand up—who seats on public toilets anymore?!—and those you nearly miss because they're at floor level, and pedals.
To understand the tip of the iceberg when it comes about importance of toilets, especially public ones, here are a few stories. Within five minutes, the escalator to the Liverpool Street Station in London, which sports cool flower bouquets, experienced three marvelous encounters:
- A flushed (!) woman walking around in trousers and only a top (at ten centigrades) shifts from one foot to the other until a man meets her, affectionately offering a small wallet full of coins. She breaks into a large smile, takes a 20p coin and runs down the stairs with glee.
- A refreshed woman in her fifties climbs the stairs and pauses in her brown and orange suit. Soon after, a man of the same age greets her, carrying a suitcase and flowers. As she receives the flowers, he seems to put an arm around her shoulder, affectionately, yet the arm keeps descending and the man, just as affectionately, grabs her arse.
- A man with hands full of Tesco carrier bags nearly runs into the station to meet a happy young lady waiting by the stairs. She's so grateful to have made it to the toilet in due time that she hugs him. Affectionately.
Labels: lovely uk
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