So, you go in, and there’s a row of about 7 or 8 loos – 7 squats and 1 ‘Western style’ seated thing. And there’s no doors. Or anything really to demarcate each ‘cubicle’ other than a very small plastic ‘wall’ of about 30 cm in height. So basically you’re in a row of Chinese women merrily doing your business in communal joy. Or extreme British awkwardness, as the case may be. It’s like all my weird nightmares about toilets without doors or toilets with doors that don’t really cover anything come true. Clearly not a problem with the Beijingers, however, who spend hours crouched in there, reading magazines and nattering away to the next semi naked lady. Wowzers.

So, sorry I can’t display any photos here as a visual aid, but I’m sure that you understand that that would actually look like some kind of weird porn fetish thing and that’s not really what this blog is all about. Although RowsofChinesefrontbottoms.com could be an interesting niche by-line… I’ll shut up now and leave you with that beautiful thought….

Most Japanese toilets come replete with their own little Star Trek control panel, thus:

A bit of techno-loo-joy frenzied pressing of buttons revealed that you can heat the seat to various temperatures, wash your back or front bottom with a spray of water, dry aforementioned parts, freshen the air, or (my favourite) play a fake flushing sound to disguise the sound of your ‘toilet’. And adjust the volume. The amount of times I couldn’t work out how to just flush the blinking thing, however, was pretty outstanding.   

They have little signs to help stupid foreigners like me too:

I’m pleased at the amount of care and attention that the Japanese put into their toilets. These pics are taken from our (the cheapest) hostel in Tokyo, where the toilets were a veritable joy of lavatorial pampering, whereas the actual rooms were basically just boxes.

They even have special toilet shoes that you put on only for going into the toilet. Gotta love it.

I have no doubt that there are far more high-tech loos in Japan that I could have sniffed out – but they’d probably be in vastly expensive places, and frankly, we’re not posh enough.

Or maybe not. No-one wants to see pictures of fetid holes in the ground.

Although I did come across some interesting hybrids – the usual precarious squat plus a ‘Western style’ cistern and flushing system. Most unusual.

That’s all I have to say. Bye.

As some of you may know, myself and Mr H are going round the world as of 1st May this year. As well as clearly just being awesome, this will hopefully give me a bit of insight into Toilets Of The World.  I’m particularly looking forward to the Japan leg, as I believe they pay a great deal of attention to their lavatorial habits, which is most pleasing, if not a bit disconcerting. I’m actually secretly a bit scared of Japanese loos.

Anyway, this is just a bit of a heads-up, really, to say that, come May, Bog Blog will be going global! Woop.

Also, I was talking to some people the other day about the bog blogging process – the fact that it requires me sniffing around in various loos, taking photos etc, and sometimes the most entertaining part of b(l)ogging is actually the process itself rather than the result, so potentially I could include a bit more info about My Time in the Loo when I’m b(l)ogging. Not actually My Time on the Loo, obviously, but y’know, stuff like how I had to get the manager of establishment X to fish my phone out of the loo, how to explain to little old lady Y why I’m taking pictures of loos, the time when I had to have a fake phone conversation with no-one so as to cover up what I was actually doing.

Or maybe that’s all just a bit dull. Who knows – I’ll have a go and if it’s dull then just throw eggs at me or something.

I now feel a bit guilty that I haven’t included any pictures of toilets in this post. So here’s a picture of a graffiti board on the back of a loo door in The Goose in Kings Heath:

Bless. Part of me admires the fact that they’re trying to contain the scrawlings of mindless bilge into an allocated area. But this surely defeats the purpose of graffiti, does it not? Oh well, nice try, Goose. Let’s see if it works …

So, I have no idea where Lapworth actually is, in fact, or how I got there … However, once I had magically arrived at the rather marvellous Boot (don’t let the somewhat prosaic title deceive you) naturally I headed straight for the most important area. And found a cute, rustic little loo:

Space is not at a premium here, so everything is kind of mini. Here’s a mini door:

Awwww Anyway, on with the scoring:

Decor: 6/10

Now, I realise that that sounds a little bit mean, as I rather like these loos. But the fact is, I like them for their natural, mini, old-skool charm, rather than for any effort made by the owners of The Boot. I don’t believe that enough care or attention has been paid to the little girls’ room in this establishment, if I’m being honest. But then part of me rather likes the slightly worn, unpretentious, rustic feel of these loos. I guess it’s just in contrast to the rest of this place, which is beautiful. It feels like the loos are just an afterthought, like they’re just there so that people can, y’know, do their business in them. This makes me sad. They have put flowers in the window though, which is nice. And wooden floors are always pleasing.

Cleanliness: 7/10

Nothing particularly dirty about them, but then the slightly worn look always makes things a bit less spotless looking…

Ambience: 9/10

What it lacks in any kind of interior design it makes up for in atmosphere – it’s cute, it’s cosy, it’s got that great, slightly-tatty-but-with-bags-of-character thang going on. And there are lots of mini doors, which don’t seem to have any particular function other than just being a bit … mini. Here’s another one:

Doesn’t open, not really sure what the point of it is, but who cares?

Lighting: 7/10

Kind of hard to say as I was here during the day, so there was mostly natural light – which is always nice. If not a bit hard to rate .. (“Well done, the sun. 10 out of 10 today for errr bringing light to the earth..”)

Stay & Play: 8/10

2 points knocked off simply for lack of space. Otherwise it would be an awesome place to hang out – warm, cosy, friendly-looking and lots of weird mini doors to explore.

Recommendations:

Easy: just needs a bit more TLC. There is a certain charm about slightly old, battered things that I love  - as Mr H will tell you. (I’m not insinuating that he is either of those things, incidentally…) But I feel that there is a fine line between ‘slightly worn, rustic charm’ and ‘we just don’t really give a s***’  which I am afreared the The Boot’s proprietors are teetering on the brink of. Look after your loos, people. Look after your loos, and they will look after you. (What?! I don’t know what I’m talking about any more…)

Admittedly, that is not memory – it is taking pictures with my phone. Hey ho. I generally like most things about Penny Blacks – and the loos are no exception. I like the sleek understated grey tiles on the floor, I like the lighting, I like the cool black and grey partnering with the wood. The only problem is that there isn’t an awful lot to write home about. As far as the toilets go, that’s not a bad thing – it means that there’s very little wrong with them and they’re just pretty classy. For this blog though … we like our loos with quirks.

Decor: 7/10
Slick and warm at the same time – sometimes an elusive marriage. Cool grey tiles and warm structured wood as mentioned earlier, plus there’s something pleasing about this gleaming white trio of sinks:

Like a shining, spotlit, honeycomb trinity of hand-washing glory. (What?! Even I don’t know …) For some reason I expect them to break into a rendition of ‘Three Little Maids From School’… But they don’t. Most upsetting. Singing sinks, now that’s an idea…
There are points lost from a slight lack of imagination, however. They are sleek, but there’s been no special care put into them. Meh.

Cleanliness: 8/10
Even if they weren’t, the shiny lighting is such that we wouldn’t even know … Clever gits.

Ambience: 7/10
Warm and shiny. Not hugely amazing, but certainly pleasant.  Maybe this is as good as it gets… I’m not entirely sure what kind of atmosphere I’m looking for in ..err.. a loo …

Lighting: 8/10
Good. Actually good. Lots of nice warm lighting to make everything look shiny and clean. Including you – albeit the reflective glory from the joyous sink triptych. 2 points lost because, as much as I appreciate them, really it would be better if people’s faces in the mirror were as well lit, if not better, than the sinks.

Stay & Play: 8/10
Y’know, I think this is one of the best so far. You can’t tell from the photos, but I seem to remember that there was enough space for a comfortable natter. Sleek decor is great and not too off-putting in terms of any important conversations you many need to concentrate on. There’s also the fact that the lighting makes everything look a bit shiny and glamorous, so hey, maybe if we hang around for a bit then we’ll feel like that too.. As I mentioned earlier, could do with a few more careful, welcoming features though.

Recommendations:
Just be a bit more playful. A bit more like the loos are important to you. Or to your customers. Or to me … Or maybe no-one else actually cares and  I’m just some freak weirdo that likes hanging around in toilets ….  And takes pictures … And gives them marks out of 10 … Heelp ….

In particular:

And:

Of course the French have an unparalleled sense of style. I’m so glad this has made it’s way to the toilets. Les fleurs. Les beaux miroirs et le chic symétriques coulent. L’écriture ‘toilettes femmes’. Le snooker table  and le foosball?:

A little random perhaps, but still, a nice thought. Just plain going to the loo is clearly a bit ennuyeux. Let’s chuck in a game of babyfoot while we’re there …

Decor: 8/10
C’est chic, non? I like the sort of non-door with it’s blue writing. (The actual loo had a proper door, obviously. Otherwise that would be like weird recurring dreams I had when I was a child when I needed the loo but could only find loos a) without doors b) with see-through doors c) with doors that only covered your ankles… Welcome to my subconscious… ) I love the flowers. I love the neat symmetrical sinks. OK, so they’re not the Ritz of the toilet world but they score big bonus points for the fact that they obviously have more effort put into them than the entire rest of the bar. This fact makes me feel all warm  and smiley inside.

Cleanliness: 9/10
Pretty darn clean. Think not of French campsite loos. This is a different breed of loo.

Ambience: 7/10
Pretty good. The French invented the word, non? L’ambience is kind of helped and simultaneously not helped by the fact that people are playing snooker 2 cm away from your naked bottom. Fun and games.

Lighting: 8/10
Watch and learn, British toilets, watch and learn. You see how the lights are strategically placed next to the mirrors at approximately head height. This helps. A little cold though – particularly with the white walls.

Stay and Play: 9/10
There’s a flipping snooker table AND a table football table, people.

Reccomendations:
The actual loo cubicles could do with a bit more interest. White walls, white loos, beige tiles – just a bit dull. The area around the loos is great though. Could do with a little more ooh la la perhaps? C’est le France, n’est pas? How about a few frills, a few swirls, a few can can dancers, free champagne, I dunno…

In my defense, this is a karaoke bar. And even the most die-hard bog blogger knows that if she hangs around in the toilet too long then ‘Without You’ or ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’ or something equally spectacular and cheesy is going to come on and someone else might take the mike.  Nooooooooo!

Anyway, whilst all my karaoke dreams are being shattered, I shall attempt some kind of review:

Decor: 7/10
Shiny shiny. And lots of blue. Ummmm and that’s about it really. The lilac transparent sinks are a nice touch – except that there’s nothing very exciting under a sink to look at. Apart from a load of pipes. There are black tiles, which always makes me happy. But the loos themselves remind me a bit of school loos. And probably look like them once the night is over …

Cleanliness: 8/10
I seem to remember this being pretty clean. Surprising, considering how messy it got outside the toilets. In a different kind of way.

Ambience: 6/10
S’OK. I think I expected more? But then no-one is in Pad Thai to hang out in the loos, let’s face it.

Lighting: 4/10
Not great. A bit white. Oh, apart from round the mirror – y’know, where you want it to be fairly bright. And there, it’s kind of grey. Makes things look shiny though.

Stay and Play: 6/10
There’s definitely worse places for a girly chit chat/ analysing your last performance on the mike/ deciding what to sing next. It’s pretty small though so you may struggle.

Reccomendations:
Pipe the music through from the karaoke booths. A ha hah h aaaaaaaaanooooooo don’t do  that. Erm … Maybe a lit less school toilets-y? Maybe it needs a bit more plushness or warmth? They seem quite bare, somehow and a bit clinical. But still kind of shiny and with a bit of colour. That’s good.

Yes, folks: ‘lava-pods’. Not ‘lavatories’ – no no. For they are wee white pods. Pop-em-in-yer-pocket  tiny weeny loos. Oh, they’re also in a tiny corridor, hence struggling to get a decent picture with everything in – although the above is pretty much true to scale. Anyhoo, once I’ve finished coo-ing at their bright white mini-ness, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty:

Decor:  6/10

OK, might sound a bit harsh – but it’s like this: too much bright white in loos makes everything look terrible. Including the person in there.  Also, although I enjoyed its space-age, pod-like, mini-me (not that I actually AM a toilet, but you get my drift) appeal I was a bit disappointed with the lack of imagination. They could have at least tried to reference some of the aspects of Fazeley’s gorgeous atrium. A little stained glass on the mirror, mayhap? A mini little plant, non? Rien, mes amis, rien… Remember, the bigger the expectations, the harder they fall. Don’t give me an entrance like that, Fazeley, and then boring white loos. 

That said, there are certain funky design features in miniature. Regard:

Mini-sink! Replete with funky geometric tap. I’d love to have seen the interior designers going into the bathroom suppliers: “Yes, I’d like about 4 of the smallest sinks in the universe please … Yes, I want to be able to wash one finger at a time… Or my hamster may wish to bathe therein…”

Cleanliness: 8/10

I seem to remember this being pretty clean. That said, the slightest smudge would take over the entire cubicle, so just as well, really ..

Ambience:   5/10

Hmmm .. So, once you’ve got over the cool, white, space-agey minimalism you do realise that you are actually in a small white pod. There’s only so much ambience that that can provide …

Lighting:  3/10

Listen, people. I’ve had to chastise you before about this. Bright white lights do not a happy lighting fit-up make. And unless you actually like looking undead, they do not a happy toilet visitor make either.

Stay & Play:  4/10

Ha ha haaaaaaaaa yeah – good luck! I think I just about managed to get all of one leg comfortably in without breakage – of myself or fixtures and fittings. Noooo chance of any girly chats in these lava-pods. Unless you know morse code and can tap out messages from adjacent pods.

Recommendations:

OK, so, clearly most of the creativity and interior vision has gone into the atrium at Fazeley. This makes me sad For the most important rooms are, of course, the water closets. Perhaps extending some of the artistry and joy into the loos would be nice; a bit of colour here, a dash of foliage there? Mini versions of stuff in the atrium would be awesome. And you know it. Even mini elephants splashing gaily in the sinks – what the heck. Make the most of the cute dinkyness by adding a bit more artistry and you’re there, Fazeley. You’ve arrived.