The fanciest toilet I ever found was in Hiroshima, Japan: a sit-down with 2 arm-rests full of controls. It was Japanese to me, but I pushed the buttons anyway and found I could warm the seat, deodorize the area, start a fountain similar to a bidet, blow dry air and play music. A faucet over the tank seemed awkward to me, so I used the regular sink instead.
No, my hosts never knew I was taking pictures of their bathroom.
Some toilets, especially those equipped with a bidet, come with a remote control.
(Courtesy of Gizmodo)
I found this Japanese squat toilet in a Tokyo hotel.
It played music automatically while I used it, and then as I stood up, it flushed.
It was a swanky hotel so I was surprised- I had always associated squat toilets with poverty.
This is the squat toilet in my Nevsehir, Turkey apartment. As described in The Word Not Spoken the toilets in an apartment building are attached to the same drain pipe. There is no need for a flush. The smells coming out of the small cement room are noted by Leigh more than once.
The toilet paper on a nail was my Cdn. touch, but the pitcher was there for family and friends who filled it with water and washed instead of wiped.
The simplest rest stop I found was near Alleppey, Kerala (India) on a backwater boat journey. When our boat stopped for a small thali on a banana leaf for lunch, I was directed to a nearby bamboo screen in answer to “Toilet please?”.
I walked down the beach and looked behind the bamboo screen but saw nothing there. I returned to the outdoor table where my banana leaf waited and asked again.
The tiny waiter pointed impatiently. “There!”
“I don’t think so,” I murmured to a travel companion. “There’s nothing behind it.”
“That’s it!” The more experienced traveller insisted. “Go in the sand and cover it up.”
So I did. I imagined they moved the screen periodically.
The place was quite desolate and I was alone there, so I chose an out of the way spot in Mother Nature rather than step into that concrete-boxed cesspool.
I first ran into floors used as toilets in a train station in Northwest India. The women’s bathroom was 3 stalls without doors. By habit, I chose to face forward when I squatted on the clean tiled floor that sloped toward a trough that ran in front of all 3 stalls. To my absolute dismay, a women with a broom rushed in to clean it as I was leaving. No matter how enormous, the tip I gave her couldn’t erase the shame I felt.
Still, as that train carried me to Jaipur, I saw men and women from nearby slums squatting on tracks parallel to mine, using the area as a long latrine. I turned my head to give them privacy.
I had to replace an old water-guzzling toilet recently. I chose a middle-of-the-line model that economizes water ($225). I am grateful when I flush it – always – but I wish it used river water instead of treated water…you know, when so few of us in the world have access to clean water and sanitation.