Inner conflict, vol. 2
Point: I will not miss, not even a little bit, the toilets in restaurants in the UK. In the winter they are not heated, and you risk freezing your butt to the toilet. They are often up stairs or in far off areas of the building, and it can be a major effort to hike to the loo. I once went to a little french place with my friends Susan and Patricia that required you go up stairs, down a hallway, across a catwalk and then up a few more steps to get to the ladies. And while the trek certainly works off calories, woe be to anyone who drinks a bit to much wine and needs to take a wee. Especially if they've worn taller shoes than usual.
Counterpoint: I love gastropubs. They're often in picturesque settings and they have delightfully varied menus and often have nibbles and bits that can make for a perfect convivial evening of grazing and sipping wine and talking smart. They serve you reasonable servings of food (not gargantuan ones that could feed a family of four) and the food is delicious. There is a comfortable ease to gastropubs that you don't find as easily in the US.
Counterpoint: I love gastropubs. They're often in picturesque settings and they have delightfully varied menus and often have nibbles and bits that can make for a perfect convivial evening of grazing and sipping wine and talking smart. They serve you reasonable servings of food (not gargantuan ones that could feed a family of four) and the food is delicious. There is a comfortable ease to gastropubs that you don't find as easily in the US.
Comments
So off I went to shoehorn myself into the tiniest possible space. Where I started to giggle some more. I'm not an especially large human, certainly not by Continental standards, so what's with the tiny WC?
Oh, it's a closet. I get it. Snork snork snork.
That's really funny. And a very good point. You know it's not a good sign when the door to the toilet opens out.