By: Blonde Two
Well Blondees and Blondettes, the Two Blondes have survived another Ten Tors weekend. We sent eighteen fine youngsters out and counted them back in, a few sad faces, most really happy. I will tell you more about it tomorrow (to be honest, you will probably be bored of Ten Tors by the time I have come back down to earth).
You might have noticed by now that I talk a fair amount about the trials and tribulations of going to the loo up on Dartmoor. Living at Ten Tors Base Camp for a couple of days brings a whole new lavatorial challenge – the Portaloo.
The Portaloo is a necessary contraption but takes a bit of getting used to. Don’t even consider entering one if you are claustrophobic – once the door is shut, you have to sit down because your face is nearly touching the door. I had one panicky moment this year when the digger that had been parked outside started up and I sat there imagining that it was about to lift my cubicle with me in it – in my head, I was going to imerge with my trousers down covered in blue liquid.
Little Miss Blonde One was with us this weekend, it was nice to be “Three Blondes” for a change. She is a lot like Blonde One and they clearly share a sense of good fortune as yesterday morning, she came back to the tent very excited because she had just found a newly cleaned Portaloo. You can appreciate from this comment that a clean Portaloo is a very rare creature. At best there is usually no loo roll, lots of soap and no water – at worst, well it would be beyond my sensibilities to describe that but you can imagine!
As for most tricky life experiences that we face, the Two Blondes have “a system” for managing these rather dodgy contraptions:
1. Get up before everyone else – the man (obviously a man) who makes decisions on how many Portaloos are needed per muddy field has obviously forgotten that we girls all like to go at the same time.
2. Chat to people in the queue – this helps you to forget the horrid experience that you are about to have. Conversations can be started with the sentence “There is nothing that I like better than a blue smelly loo at 4.30 on a Saturday morning.”
3. Never, ever, ever leave the tent without a handful of loo roll in your pocket. You never know when or where the next loo stop will be but you can be almost sure that there won’t be any toilet paper when you get there. This phenomena could well be the result of “tissue hoarding” but do it anyway!
4. Look at people’s faces as they come out of the Portaloos. This will tell you which ones to avoid for yourself. If someone is clutching their tummy and grimacing, stay well clear – small space, big smell – need I say more?
5. Check out which ones are wobbly – on a windy day, there is nothing more disconcerting than being rocked around mid flow. We saw some that had blown over in Thursday’s terrible wind conditions – can you imagine the horror!
6. Watch out for the cleaning truck and learn the cleaning times. if you are alert and lucky enough, might the pleasure of a clean, paper full, water supplied Portaloo like Little Miss Blonde One did.
I hope you never have to rely on Portaloos – a bush on Dartmoor is a far preferable experience. But if you do, keep smiling, at least you know that no-one can see you.
Having shared Portaloos with 7 adults and around 60 Bronzes a few weeks back (@cookieplymouth was there!) I spent some time analysing the info on the inside wall. One loo lasts 7 people a working week – assume 5 days. So assume 7×5=35 No.2s. We were all on site about 15 hours, so I thought two loos was the right ratio…it wasn’t too bad! But we did all take our own loo roll – phew!
I would have insisted on separate adults and kids ones – or maybe boys and girls. We have a unisex loo at work and it is just very odd.
God you’re hysterical!!! The images in my head!!!!
I have a bit of a wierd public toilet thing – often gag walking into them even if they are clean and fresh smelling. Portaloos are the epitomy of public loos and I avoid them like the plague – had a particularly unpleasant experience with one in a layby on the way to London – I walked in and wlkaed straight back out and vomited in the bush!! Peeing in the bush was far preferable!!!
That was me commenting! Think I should stay anonymous really!!! A bucket, bin liner, cat litter and lid works well in our van – no number 2’s though thank you!!!
It fair makes your nether-regions shudder!
I prefer my nice little van with my own nice little Portapotti – even if I do have to put curtains round it first and perform bent double!
Suggestion. Erect an elsan tent in one corner of your marquee. Tell everyone else it is a broom cupboard (boggart’s punishment cell, dog kennel, emergency canoe store [vertical of course] or whatever!)
We have just a bucket, cat litter and lid in our van for when there are no desirable toilets about!!! A lesson learnt travelling through France last year!
Cat litter! That is very funny. We had a bucket with a lid when the kids were little that I did use a couple of times.
A trick I picked up on a campervan forum!!!! Put cat litter in a bag in the bucket, then it absorbs the pee, smells ok and can be tied up and chucked in a bin!! Saves it sloshing about and the inevitable spillage!!!
the best thing I found this year, is we had to camp in the jubilee field, and they were always fully stocked with loo roll, and clean 🙂