Grahamstown is full of architectural treasures from the 19th and early 20th centuries and a fair number have been turned into places to stay. One such building was an old Catholic school, erected by the priests themselves in the early days. A somewhat over ambitious local lawyer bought up the property after the school closed down and was determined to create 5 star hotel accommodation in the premises. The alterations which were to bring the building up to hotel standards were still under way when we were allowed to make use of the completed section. The finishes and fittings were of good quality and my room at least, was enormous.
The room was plushly carpeted and had under-carpet heating and the large bed was fitted with electric blankets and was supremely comfortable. I wandered into the bathroom and discovered a substantial bathtub as well as a shower. Just the twin “toilet bowls” had me nonplussed. Closer inspection revealed one to be a bidet, an item of sanitary ware I had not struck in any hotel before. My natural curiosity aroused, I had to find out how it worked so I turned on one of the taps.
WELL! I didn’t expect the powerful jet of water which suddenly erupted from the bowl and made for the ceiling, an old fashioned 20 feet or more up. It turned there and spread itself out in order to rain down on me, no joke in the freezing Grahamstown winter. I turned the tap off very speedily and wiped up the water all over the bathroom floor. Eyeing this strange device suspiciously, I sat wondering how one might use it. It had two taps which implied hot and cold water, so how did one regulate the temperature, given that one would be sitting with one’s back to the taps. As I had just ascertained, just turning on a tap with no-one in the saddle so to speak, resulted in a wet bathroom. Turning on both taps while off throne could end up with a mid-winter, bathroom monsoon. Sitting there fiddling with taps behind one’s back could result in one’s tenderest regions alternately being scalded and frozen, before really settling down to a bearable temperature. A slightly less than sanitary back passage and whatnot would seem to me to be greatly preferable to a clean but blistered one.
Then I wondered if maybe one sat down back to front as it were but I realized while it had the advantage of giving one access to the hot and cold taps for better temperature regulation, it would also result in the aimed for area not receiving any cleansing benefit, while water shooting up one’s front end would be futile, not to mention messy. An unexpected stream of hot/cold water up one’s nostrils from down below would probably annoy most people.
I gave up trying to figure this thing out and resolved to leave its operation strictly to the female of the species. Of course the flippin’ French invented it. People who design and build such eccentric cars and eat frogs’ legs and snails simply can’t be trusted to come up with sensible sanitaryware can they? No doubt they’ve sold millions to the cleanliness gurus, the Japanese who will by now have electronic, automatic and luxury versions which would even bring a smile to your maiden Aunt Winnie.
I think the fellow doing up that old building seriously over capitalized it and went bankrupt, which is a great pity as it had great ambience and charm. I reckon he could have left out the bidets though.
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