When I Got Back Home From Italy, I Kissed My Toilet Bowl

For two glorious weeks in June, 2009, my brand new husband & I took off for a romantic, fun filled adventure in Italy. It was a delayed honeymoon of sorts, and we had the time of our lives.

There was only one fly in the ointment.

For such a civilized country as Italy, the toilet situation is just as UNcivilized. We take our toilet bowls for granted here. They're clean, they're white, they flush, they have water in them, toilet paper nearby, and doors to close for privacy. The bathroom here in the U.S. is a retreat...a place to go  and sit back, relax & have a moment of peace & quiet.

In Italy, toilets are a horse of another color. While we did have a tiny water closet *WC* on our tour bus, it was for emergency use only. Our tour guide Liz gave us the run down on finding usable toilets in every city & town we visited. We are women...we need toilets....we line up like good little soldiers & do a little dance while we wait our turn to use the blessed WC.

Every single bathroom in every single hotel in Italy has a bidet. The room may be 5 square feet in total but a bidet IS squeezed into the tiny space no matter WHAT. The hotels provide little in the way of luxuries in the bathroom.....one roll of toilet paper, no tissues....maybe a tiny bottle of shampoo & a sliver of soap. But they DO provide shoe sponges. Out of all the toiletry items we COULD use, a shoe sponge isn't one of them. What on earth would I need a shoe sponge FOR? Cleaning my sandals? Shining up my sneakers? Folks, on several occasions, I thought about using that shoe sponge for toilet paper, let me tell you. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

In San Gimignano, dear Liz led me to a latrine. A hole in the floor that you squat over while praying feverishly not to wet the clothing lying down around your ankles. I told Liz I didn't have to go THAT badly....I'd wait for a more civilized toilet.  I'd have used the WC on the bus if I knew my other choice was to be a latrine. Sigh.

We'd stop frequently at gas stations to get coffee & to use the toilets. Most of them don't have toilet seats. Liz told us it was the Italian LAW. Imagine having a law about toilet seats?? If we were lucky enough to find toilet paper, it was a small piece & to be used sparingly yet lovingly. A piece of paper to truly appreciate. Many times I swiped the tiny napkin they gave me with my cappucinno & furrowed it away in my purse for later use.

I ran into a toilet bowl with a seat one day....it was on a spring action thingy & automatically popped up. I was thrilled. I carefully put the seat down & it shot back up violently.  4 or 5 times this happened but I valiantly kept at it...I HAD to make this work. I finally sat my butt down on the toilet seat & I felt a huge sense of accomplishment: I DID it! Next thing I knew, the toilet sprayed water all over my butt!  Who knew I’d be getting a shower along with a tinkle?

When the seat went down, the water automatically started spraying! How gross is THAT? Naturally, there was no toilet paper to mop my butt off with. I slunk out of that stall feeling small & ashamed....the toilet won, I was defeated.

Tourists are able to use the toilets in coffee shops if they make a purchase. Sitting in an outdoor cafe in Florence sipping my espresso, I decided to make use of the WC before taking off. Get while the getting is good. The waitress led me to the back of the shop. She opened a TRAP DOOR in the FLOOR. I started to sweat. Before me lied the steepest, darkest stone staircase I'd ever seen. She motioned me to go down. Gulp. What? Go down into the bowels of the cellar to do my business? Yessiree. I groped my way down to a dank, nasty, red-hot cellar filled with boxes. A tiny door read WC & I knew I'd found my way. But, where was the light? I took out my trusty Bic lighter & waved it around. I started laughing......I'd have to pee by the light of my Bic! And figure out how to do my business one-handed at the same time!  I was frazzled by the time I clawed my way back to Chuck who was calmly people-watching at the table outside. I told him he HAD to go use the WC.....JUST DO IT! I snickered as I watched him enter the shop. He came back awhile later....with a wet stain on his pants! He didn't have a lighter & had to pee in the dark! Ah....I never knew smoking cigarettes could be a GOOD thing after all.

The flushing mechanisms vary widely in Italy as well. Most of them are on a wall panel & just require pushing a button. Others have knobs that you either push or pull. After pulling a few knobs clear OFF the wall, I realized those were the ones that required pushing. One night we had a 9 course dinner in a parking lot outside of a run-down restaurant. They couldn't accommodate 39 people inside so they set up tables on the gravel in the parking lot. Fortunately, the food was unbelievably delicious so the view, or lack of view, wasn't a big deal. We were able to go inside to use the WCs though, fortunately. I found a large stall with a door, I was very excited indeed. I'd be able to do my business in privacy & luxury...yayyyyyyyy!!! When I was ready to flush, I didn't see a way to do it. All I saw was a huge steel lever on the wall. What to do what to do? I gingerly cranked the lever & it came crashing down to the floor with a huge CLANG. That brought the Italian speaking waiter rushing over to my inner sanctuary asking if I was ok. I hung my head in shame as I exited the stall. Why oh why do the Italians make it so darn hard to take a pee I wonder?

We had many more WC experiences in Italy & they were all different...all challenging....all crazy. As a group, we were laughing like hyenas one night as we discussed how we planned to kiss our toilet bowls when got back home.

When I walked through my front door & saw my powder room, I was thrilled & ready to get on my knees & kiss the porcelain. Right then, the doorbell rang & my next door neighbor informed  me that our sewers were sinking. The builder had screwed up the installation of the sewer lines & they needed to be repaired to the tune of $5,000.00 to $15,000.00 depending on the severity of the damage. The porcelain kissing would have to be delayed while I pursued class action suits, lawyers, sewer companies & all the joy that's likely to be involved in this little adventure. 

I can’t seem to escape the Toilet Bowl issues in this country or outside of this country.

Sigh.

Coming home to reality bites.