Don't get me wrong, I don't really have a problem with train travelling. There is only one aspect of it which I cannot tolerate: the toilet facilities. Facilities may be taking it a bit far. For those of you who have never set foot in a train toilet, allow me to enlighten you.
Wherever you are sitting on the train, you can absolutely guarantee that the toilets will be at the opposite end of the train. This forces you to consider whether you are really desperate to use the facilities. Once you have examined the state of your desperation and decided to brave the facilities, you then have to make the terrifying journey down the train. This will invariably result in you being thrown from side to side until your internal organs feel as though they are embroiled in a deathly game of ping-pong and you are feeling as though you have had one too many glasses of vino. This is not the worst of it.
When you eventually navigate your way to the facilities, you have to get into the cubicle. This may sound simple. It is not. The buttons on the doors are designed to fool you in such a way that you are never entirely sure whether or not you have managed to lock the toilet door. Thus, your trip to the facilities becomes a kind of adventure game in which you never quite know whether you will be finished before a desperate stranger opens the door on you. Equally, you never quite know whether you will be opening the door on an embarrassed stranger when you attempt to enter the facilities.
If you manage to get into the toilet you are faced with a less than desirable situation. The smell is inevitably unpleasant. There is almost always paper all over the floor, and there is always (without exception) unidentifiable liquid on the floor. I don't need to elaborate here, do I? It is literally a minefield.
You then have to negotiate sitting down in the facilities whilst the train is in motion. You are specifically forbidden from peeing (or worse) whilst you are parked in a station. This is for one reason and one reason alone: the person who invented train facilities has an evil sense of humour. Sitting down on a toilet on a moving train surrounded by unimaginables is (or should be) an art form. You should get a certificate if you can aim in these circumstances (clearly, most people cannot judging from the state of the floors).
You could be forgiven for thinking that this is the end of the trauma. You would be wrong. You have to negotiate flushing and washing. This is not pretty. The water splashes everywhere. The soap is questionable. The paper towels have inevitably always run out. All the while, you are acutely aware that you are standing in someone else's mess.
If you've managed to make it this far, all you have left is the ping-pong walk back to your seat. If you can find your seat again, that is.
If you manage to get into the toilet you are faced with a less than desirable situation. The smell is inevitably unpleasant. There is almost always paper all over the floor, and there is always (without exception) unidentifiable liquid on the floor. I don't need to elaborate here, do I? It is literally a minefield.
You then have to negotiate sitting down in the facilities whilst the train is in motion. You are specifically forbidden from peeing (or worse) whilst you are parked in a station. This is for one reason and one reason alone: the person who invented train facilities has an evil sense of humour. Sitting down on a toilet on a moving train surrounded by unimaginables is (or should be) an art form. You should get a certificate if you can aim in these circumstances (clearly, most people cannot judging from the state of the floors).
You could be forgiven for thinking that this is the end of the trauma. You would be wrong. You have to negotiate flushing and washing. This is not pretty. The water splashes everywhere. The soap is questionable. The paper towels have inevitably always run out. All the while, you are acutely aware that you are standing in someone else's mess.
If you've managed to make it this far, all you have left is the ping-pong walk back to your seat. If you can find your seat again, that is.
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