Flushed With Frustration
Day 3 of our Adelaide trip, with temperatures climbing with big steps each day max-ing today at 39C, the hottest November day here for 5 years. I got a chill blast from the car air conditioner as I leaned forward to see the magical number in the dashboard display.
As we cruised the coasal strip like lost souls, and walked the beautiful waterfront areas of Glenelg and Brighton, I noticed a set of three toilets on the side of the path near a cafe. These toilets were like none I had seen before - all stainless steel and lights and pushbuttons and instructions in Braille. Mrs Mail said it looks like you will have to pay. I said that was un-Australian and ventured forth to explore this contraption from Dr Who.
After much pressing of things that looked like door opening controls, and noting the sign on the wall that advised that loitering was being monitored, Mrs Mail pointed out that my audience at the cafe was becoming amused, so I did what every other tax payer would do - gave up and walked off, deciding that it was too early in the day for drinking alchohol or going to the toilet.
Some time later at a more distant beach park, the landscape was devoid of audience and the personal challenge gene was strong, so I decided to attempt another invasion of the technology.
I eventually found the secret button which, in hindsight wasn''t so secret, just a wood and trees problem, when there are so many lights, knobs and words (in Braille).
The electric door opened and I entered the stainless steel walled technical marvel, as the door closed behind me and a recorded voice welcomed me instructing me how the facilities worked and advising me I had a maximum of 10 minutes to conclude my business, then the calming music started. I read more instructions while doing the service call, noting that flushing was automatic, paper was dispelled electrically and then using the large basin cavity in the wall which dispensed from it's ceiling soap, water or hot air as it detected your hands beneath the cavity ceiling sections, thus not requiring any touch at all.
By now the mysterious recorded voice had replaced the music and thanked me for my visit, issung instructions on how to escape.
I did have to touch the button which automatically unlocked and opened the door as the loo flushed itself behind me. All for free and without an audience.
I told Mrs Mail - You should try that. I wonder what it would cost to install one at home.
Flushed With Frustration
Day 3 of our Adelaide trip, with temperatures climbing with big steps each day max-ing today at 39C, the hottest November day here for 5 years. I got a chill blast from the car air conditioner as I leaned forward to see the magical number in the dashboard display.
As we cruised the coasal strip like lost souls, and walked the beautiful waterfront areas of Glenelg and Brighton, I noticed a set of three toilets on the side of the path near a cafe. These toilets were like none I had seen before - all stainless steel and lights and pushbuttons and instructions in Braille. Mrs Mail said it looks like you will have to pay. I said that was un-Australian and ventured forth to explore this contraption from Dr Who.
After much pressing of things that looked like door opening controls, and noting the sign on the wall that advised that loitering was being monitored, Mrs Mail pointed out that my audience at the cafe was becoming amused, so I did what every other tax payer would do - gave up and walked off, deciding that it was too early in the day for drinking alchohol or going to the toilet.
Some time later at a more distant beach park, the landscape was devoid of audience and the personal challenge gene was strong, so I decided to attempt another invasion of the technology.
I eventually found the secret button which, in hindsight wasn''t so secret, just a wood and trees problem, when there are so many lights, knobs and words (in Braille).
The electric door opened and I entered the stainless steel walled technical marvel, as the door closed behind me and a recorded voice welcomed me instructing me how the facilities worked and advising me I had a maximum of 10 minutes to conclude my business, then the calming music started. I read more instructions while doing the service call, noting that flushing was automatic, paper was dispelled electrically and then using the large basin cavity in the wall which dispensed from it's ceiling soap, water or hot air as it detected your hands beneath the cavity ceiling sections, thus not requiring any touch at all.
By now the mysterious recorded voice had replaced the music and thanked me for my visit, issung instructions on how to escape.
I did have to touch the button which automatically unlocked and opened the door as the loo flushed itself behind me. All for free and without an audience.
I told Mrs Mail - You should try that. I wonder what it would cost to install one at home.