Beware the Porta Potties of France

JUNE 11, 2009 10:14AM
Beware the Porta Potties of France

Everyone dreams of visiting the elegant castles of the Loire Valley in central France.

That was also our dream when my husband and I took a fast train from Gare Montparnasse in Paris to the city of Angers, which sits at the center of the Loire's famous chateau country.

As soon as we arrived in Angers that morning in July, we rented a car and drove it off the lot. I was behind the wheel since I speak French and can follow the signs better than my husband.

This also spared David the pain of being told where to go every three minutes for the next six hours.

Five blocks after leaving the rental agency, and as we were toodling through the quaint streets of downtown Angers, I started to notice the smell of croque-monsieurs, the grilled ham and cheese sandwich sold in just about every cafe and bar across the country.

That familiar and mouth-watering aroma -- ah, is that emmental or gruyere? -- followed us from street to street, everywhere we went, even when we left the area where cafes and bars were numerous.

And then later when there was no cafe or bar to be seen for miles.

And that is when we noticed smoke seeping out from beneath the hood of our car. And we realized that we had better pull over and get ourselves a vehicle that didn't smell like someone was grilling ham and cheese sandwiches on its engine block.

We found a pay phone in front of the crowded Chateau d'Angers -- at 2, promenade du Bout du Monde (or End of the World) -- and called for a replacement. The attendant promised to attend to us shortly.

And that's when I felt the urge to find a restroom.

We asked at the castle but were informed I'd have to pay the eight euro entry fee to use one.

And that is when we noticed what looked like a landing pod from an alien spaceship sitting on the sidewalk just yards from our disabled car.

Normally, I would avoid outdoor privies like the plague they imply, but this one had a shiny, curved door and looked like it had never been used.

And the entry fee was but a single euro.

I dropped the coin into a slot on its gleaming flank and the door slowly whirred open. I entered and the door just as slowly whirred shut behind me.

I sat down on its ultra-clean plastic-covered seat.

And that's when I noticed that the door had not closed properly. Through a tiny sliver, I could see light and people -- tourists, really -- milling about outside. Hordes of them.

What if one was looking in?

I pushed a button in the hope that it would close that gap.

And that's when the door suddenly whirred wide open. Very wide open.

\"Oh, my God!\" I shrieked.

A bunch of those tourists glanced over and their mouths fell open. Kids pointed and laughed.

\"Are you okay?\" my husband shouted, running up to the metal box.

\"I'm okay! I'm okay!\" I shouted back, jabbing the button to close the door, watching with relief as it finally whirred shut again.

And that's when I saw a sign warning that the Porta Potty completely sprayed down its shiny interior after each use.

Did the alien space pod think I had already left? Was it about to shower me with Monsieur Clean?

I rushed to finish up and escape, but when no toxic fluids splashed down on my head, I thought hard about launching that pod into outer space.

Or staying in it for the rest of the day.

Or at least until those tourists got back into their stupid bus and drove away.

Beware Les Portes Pots of France.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Note: Porta Potty photos actually taken in Cannes, in the south of France, and borrowed from the good folks at travelizmo.com.

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france, loire valley, porta potties
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Ha, we had our own experience with one of these in Paris.

I paid my euro and stepped in to use the facility, while my husband waited outside for me. There was another woman waiting for me to finish. When I was done, I stepped out and saw my husband taking pictures of something. I walked away from le potty, and knelt down to tie my shoe. When my husband looked over, he didn't see me, but saw the other woman pressing the button on the outside of the thing. He thought I was still inside, and that I was being doused! He tried to tell the woman to stop, but she there was a definite language barrier. I went over to him and tapped him on the shoulder, and after many smiles and hand gestures, I think we convinced the other lady that we were not crazy, but you never know.

Anyway, they are quite convenient if you really have to go.

Jeanette D.
JUNE 11, 2009 10:28 AM
You don't have to go to Europe, we have them here too, fewer and far between. Have not heard of any Porta Potty cleansing deaths as yet...Just keep a spotter with you and be ware the economy effect. It may coast 50 cents to get in and 3 dollars to get out. Bring exact change...
'

Phaedo
JUNE 11, 2009 10:58 AM
Too funny, Jeanette and Phaedo. Thanks for your comments!

RCHaynes
JUNE 11, 2009 11:04 AM
Ah, tourists. They ruin everything!

AtHomePilgrim
JUNE 11, 2009 02:57 PM
Fun to read!

Naqib's Daughter
JUNE 12, 2009 03:46 PM
That's why it's always better to just find a tree/bush and unzip or hike up and pee. Going number 2 is a different story. Also, had that porta potty been made in the USA, you would not have had the door problem, the unit would have properly functioned.

See: http://open.salon.com/blog/rchaynes/2009/06/11/beware_the_porta_potties_of_france

Hahaha! I remember those. We have them also in England and Germany. One time in downtown Hounslow in London I was sitting in one, when all of a sudden an electronic sounding voice said my time was up and was about to open. I almost got an attack, got decent and ejected the door open. There were stood fellow students laughing their heads off.

when I was in France - the toilets were a tiled hole in the floor - looked like a posh pitch n putt golf course

In Holland (Amsterdam) the toilets were huge earthenware things and really finely decorated - it was like using grannies best china as a toilet - i almost felt guilty using it

Anyway - wherever you are in the world - everyone understands this...

dont eat yellow snow