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Tag: Toilet

Hover Hole and The Hoop of Hope

Foreign Bathroom Series, Chapter 6

Travel Journal, 71

 

As always in this series, names of those involved have been removed or redacted to protect the (possibly) innocent and (definitely) embarrassed. 

 

Deep in the Peruvian Jungle, our medical mission team set out on a river boat destined for several small villages. Our task for the week required us to travel a great distance into the jungle. The first day alone we spent over 10 hours in an 80 foot-long, flat-back river canoe with a huge engine. We saw a few settlements along the way. And, needless to say, we didn’t have a chance to stop at a luxurious rest area, complete with running water and cold Pepsi machines. No, in fact, we stopped only once or twice during that 10-hour trip.

But alas, mankind must eat.

Mankind must drink.

And what goes in must come out.

The two boat stops granted relief for any…er…major business. But what about the rest of the time?

For the lads, a curious leaning and balancing act off the back of the boat does the trick. And it comes so naturally. Boys will be boys, right?

But what about the lady folk?

I give you: The Hoop of Hope.

One luxurious item brought aboard was a camping/chemical toilet. The tiny box completes the bathroom objective easily. Though the real trick is not the toilet. It’s privacy. One genius mind concocted the idea to hang a shower curtain around a hula hoop. And, since the female of the species tends to go to the restroom in herds, the three-foot diameter hoop can be upheld by lady friends and used one at a time.

The Hoop of Hope.

When the boat arrived at the various locals on our mission, The Hoop of Hope was no longer required. Each settlement has a bathroom. Although, I use that term in its loosest form.

Not too far from huts and hammocks sits a tiny shack. It appears to be hastily assembled with ill-fitting boards and a partial Brazil Nut bag for a “door.” Enter and look down.

May I introduce to you: The Hover Hole—the one foreign bathroom experience that always gives newcomers a challenge.

The name gives away its purpose. When first venturing out into hover hole territory, one must consider tactics and strategy. Two boards line a hole in the ground. Stand on these when using the Hover Hole. Balance is key. Touching the ground for stability is fraught with consequences.  Bring your own toilet paper, but take care not to set it down anywhere (for the same reason you don’t want to touch the ground). Accidents can and will happen, though. One of the kids traveling with us lost his sandal down a hover hole. But don’t worry, somebody retrieved it for him. Not long after (perhaps not long enough?), I saw him wearing it.

It may be a new experience, but I assure you, many parts of the world utilize this form of toiletry. And when pressed, mankind can adapt to most forms of bathroom use.

Though the one form that was entirely new to me was the sparkling brilliance of the well-crafted Hoop of Hope. May is give hopeful relief to boat travelers for years to come.

anthony forrest

Check out the other chapters to this fun series:

Part 1: Bidet

Part 2: The Lav

Part 3: Floor Towel

Part 4: 20p Toilet

Part 5: Dutch Hostel

 

Travel Journal, 31

Foreign Bathroom Series

Chapter Four, The 20p Toilet

Ah, London. How we adore you.

Traveling to the UK is something that I’ve wanted to do for some time. With an easily walkable city, eclectic food scene, and free museums, London has something for everybody.

But the one major problem is the public restroom. It doesn’t exist. And if you find a restroom, you’ll probably have to pay to use it. After trudging around London for hours on end with no restroom is sight, we finally found a map of the city. On that map was a little dot marking the presence of a restroom in St James Park, across from Buckingham Palace (a big shout out to Her Majesty for putting the only public toilet in London in the middle of a 57-acre park). My wife and I nearly ran through the sunny park, over wooden bridge covered streams to get to the tiny brick building. Upon arrival, we parted ways to our respective sides only to discover that the machine guarding the door required 20 pence for entry (and consequent relief).

We began shoving unknown sterling coins into the machine to no avail. Dancing and shuffling, I looked down—wrong coin. The restroom attendant (yes, it had a restroom attendant) glared at us and begrudgingly helped us find the correct change. But honestly, I probably would have crammed a 50-pound note into the machine just to find a little solace for my stressed urinary system.

Though the future EU membership of the UK is uncertain. One thing remains concretely sure, toilet trials continue across the Channel.

Few things about Europe frustrate me. Let’s be honest, they simply have travel figured out. Public transportation is a breeze. You can get anywhere on the train, and cheaply. I can land in Amsterdam and be in another country within the hour. It helps that each country is smaller. But there is so much infrastructure and money available for public transportation that getting around is simply easy. Money is also pretty simple. Every country (almost) uses the Euro. No exchanges to worry about! And with the European Union, most countries do not require a border security or passport control stop. Open borders make country to country travel realistic, cheap, and accessible. So many positive reasons to visit Europe come to my mind.

But what about that darn potty?

In nearly the same scenario we searched and searched for a restroom in Paris. This time, we lucked out. There, on the Parisian sidewalk, stood a sort of pod. Now, I would call it a public restroom, but it was more akin to an enormous egg, or an oval dumpster, or maybe an escape pod from a spaceship. We stood at the door and tried to read the French instructions. We pressed the button and the door slid open like a time machine from the future. I entered. The floor was soaked. After my business had been accomplished, I departed the escape pod. The door quietly closed before my wife could enter. I blue light flashed and the words Le Lessive appeared. It was a self-cleaning toilet pod from the future.

As much as I love Europe and the UK, American public restroom availability is a luxury without which I don’t want to live!

anthony forrest

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