English fascination: Loos
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English fascination: Loos By Deborah Gale The longer I am in possession of what the Immigration Service refers to as “permission to remain”, I become more fascinated with the ordinary aspects of my new life. It regularly occurs to me that there is much more here than originally met my eye. Which brings me to an oft-overlooked feature of island architecture: the British bathroom. It matters not if we look at them in houses, flats, restaurants, pubs, or even motorway services for they never fail to surprise, amaze and occasionally astound. Part of this stems from that peculiarly English fascination with small places, small things and little hidey holes. Even the grandest of castles have turrets and a keep, the kitchens a scullery, the roots a cellar. The vast majority of things on this teensy little island are capaciously challenged. In fact, you should not be surprised to learn that the prototype for the first commercial airline restroom was inspired by architectural schematics used for renovating medieval pubs. This took place during the Victorian period when the introduction of running, albeit cold water, was underway. Prior to the discovery of these plans, it had never been believed possible to fit everything required into such a small place and still be able to shut the door. These spatial restrictions encouraged energy efficiency long before such economy was even a consideration. Therefore, the first thing you become aware of in a British bathroom is the temperature. Unless the “loo” under inspection is housed in a windowless location, the ambient temperature will be just above freezing. A haphazard array of pipes suggesting hot water could be near are usually in evidence but are always kept some distance from the vitreous china. This design never caught on in the U.S. after an American Standard legal team was presented with a hypothetical class action suit involving freezer burns. Moving on; IF there is a hot water tap, which is NOT a requirement, you should be on the look out for two possible signs, usually positioned above the sink or sinks, which will be smaller than salad bowls. First, there could be a warning to users that the hot water is very hot. You are advised to take this seriously, especially if the water will be coming out of a hot only tap. Mixer taps (complicated plumbing whereby the cold and hot water can be mixed together to prevent emergency room level scalding or instant numbing) are generally viewed as a luxury. Second, give the room a good once over to determine if there is a sign saying the water is potable or non-potable. Even in this land of chips, this has nothing to do with potatoes and instead refers to drinkability. All you need to remember is that non-potable will kill you. I was recently hosting a birthday party for thirty-five thirsty six year olds in a university sports facility where the public toilet had their non-potable sign proudly displayed. One of my more memorable bathroom visits was to some services on the M1. They were surprisingly modern, impeccably clean and the water was very hot. Most notably, there was a hygiene monitor with a sixty-minute clock that counted down backwards to signal when the next cleaning was timed to commence. We hung around to see what this was all about and got to see a swat team of professionals swoop in, cleanse and then head back to their coffee before it got cold. There was also a prominent happy face or a frown that we were offered to press on our way out. Apparently, this sends an instant message back to management of our demeanor after visiting their facilities. More intriguing were the wall-mounted dispensers with all the normal hygiene vending items including Condomi Virtual Skinware. Immediately to the right of this one was a Clear Blue Pregnancy test kit for £9.99. As a mother of five, this is what I call one stop shopping and that’s without even getting to see what was on offer in the men’s room. All in all very good news since motorway services are usually 24-7, except for that road side rest we also tried to visit before we noticed the sign which stated “NOT 24 HOURS”. These services were definitely closed but it sure made me wonder, “exactly how many hours are we talking about then?” Puzzling incidents continue on the island…. About the author: Deborah S. Gale is a Pennsylvania native, loving mother of five daughters. Married to a classically cynical, witty Brit with whom she enjoyed DINKY status briefly. She hasn’t held a full time bill paying or spa treatment-covering job since the children and spent most of the '90's as an expat. wife and mother in Paris and London. After 23 years of calling Silicon Valley home, she bid adieu to the South Bay in December 2000 when she made a permanent move back to the UK. She writes a regular column for the American in Britain magazine. © siliconmom
