Tooalyetee

Russian toilets are epitomised by a Belorussian friend’s statements ‘Toilets are just for getting what’s needed done as quickly as possible.’ I’d noticed the lack of luxury and architectural importance placed on toilets. This very friend, in a spacious flat with  plenty of extra unalloted space has a closet-like toilet, where there is barely space to fit in; windowless, jammed between the door and the coat rack. It shares its’ space with a cupboard of household miscellany. Clearly, the architect when designing the layout of the flat thought something along the lines of, ‘We’ll stuff the toilet out of the way by the door  in the minimum space possible and leave all the interesting space for other rooms‘. No big windows, no fluffy mats, no coquettish or trashy toilet paper holders.,no decorated tiles , no fresh air or light. A space dedicated to the over-and-done-with-ity. The English pink fluffy towel attitude goes more for the position of ’ its necessary so it may as well be made as pleasant and fluffy and disguised as possible.’

I realise some of this comes from the habitual separation of bathroom and toilet, a practical thing in these flats where there’s often a whole family or two. Wheareas in England toilet often shares  the more respectable bathroom space,

I walked into the grandeur of the Belorussian Opera - not as luxurious as some more important Opera houses, but still leaning towards a certain degree of magnificence - and was glamorously preparing to lament with the princes and princesses of a Tchaikovsky ballet when I discovered hole-in-floor-toilets. Reminiscent of roadway toilets in provincial France. There they were in the heart of ornamental civilisation and all these Opera-goers in their elegant tailor-cut dresses and smart suits go to the toilet in the same way as a Provincial French peasant or workman.

A similar shock was encountered on the Electrisichka St-Petersburg - Viborg, a two hour thirty minute journey. After my satisfactory experience of long distance trains, I was quite prepared for the journey, and I drank a teapot’s worth before getting on the train. ‘I brought a face mask with me., ‘ I imparted to my travelling companion. ‘Where will you wash it off?’. In the toilet basin , of course. ‘What toilet basin? ‘You must be joking. There’s no toilet on Electrishika.’ ‘No toilet at all?’ So I didn’t need the mint teabags I packed either. I asked the train official, just to double check and she laughed.

Now this is generalisation, and there are some interesting toilets with concessions to kitsch if not to light, air, space and windows. One toilet in a restaurant, off Nevskiy, has a  toilet with mirrors on every surface but the floor. The kind of toilet you should go to just to visit.