Room 101

George Orwell’s 1984 is one of the few novels I read at school that made me sit up and say “now that was a good read.”

I love the book – but one of the things I like best is the concept of Room 101, a room where people are subjected to their worst nightmares.

In the UK it has spawned a comedy panel show, also called Room 101, where celebrities try to convince the host (currently Frank Skinner) to dump the things they hate into the aforementioned room.

Being a grumpy old so and so I think it is time that I nominated things for Room 101; I just hope the room is big enough to accommodate everything I have planned for it.

In fact, such is the vast number of things I want to cast into an abyss that I have to do it in tiny chunks.

I will therefore pepper my normal inane posts with lists of things that simply must be locked away from humanity – for their own good.

Movie - Highlander 2 – The Quickening

I loved the film Highlander and that is the main reason why I want to hurl this garbage into Room 101. It is a sequel that makes no sense and is the worst film that Sean Connery has ever agreed to make. If you have seen and enjoyed Highlander, I implore you (for your own sanity) not to watch this film EVER! You will rant so much that you might just explode – I know I nearly did.

Celebrity – Piers Morgan

Why this man is a success is beyond me. He is one of the few humans alive who I actually want to torture – preferably by subjecting him to a day in his own company. I first noticed him when he was editor of a tabloid called the Daily Mirror – an odious profession if ever there was one – and now he presents a major show in the US. How? Why? He is an enigma; he is so loathsome yet so successful. How can that be? Into Room 101 you go.

Clothing – Baggy arsed jeans

Kids these days wear jeans that hang so low they may as well not bother. I was sitting down in a bar in Manchester and I turned around and my face was inches from a young git with baggy arsed jeans and “cool” designer underpants. I wanted to stand up and yell at the fool.

“PULL YOUR PHARKING JEANS UP! PEOPLE CAN SEE SKID MARKS IN YOUR UNDERPANTS!”

I couldn’t – but it would have scared him half to death.

Food – Rhubarb

I have posted about rhubarb before. It is the most repulsive foodstuff known to man. It tastes so bad that my stomach heaves when my brain tells me there is some in the vicinity. When rhubarb appeared on the school dinner menu as a child, I was forced to eat it – and I wanted to kill the teacher who tortured me in this way. I simply cannot begin to describe the taste – it is so awful. I hope that Piers Morgan is forced to eat it for ever in Room 101 – mind you, he’d probably like it.

Pop Music – Cliff Richard

The man who gave us “Mistletoe and Wine”, “Saviours Day”, “Wired For Sound” and, the crowning turd on the compost heap, “The Millennium Prayer”. I am ashamed to say that I actually saw the so called Peter Pan of pop live in a show called Time in the late 1980’s. I went to the West End of London and watched it, not knowing that Cliff Richard was in it – and I almost wept in shame. Worse – every year, there is a calendar showing pictures of Cliff topless – AT HIS AGE!!! Get in there and start singing to Piers Morgan – mind you, he’d probably like it.

TV – The X Factor

Every bloody year – EVERY BLOODY YEAR – I have to suffer this utter tripe that is overhyped, filled with cliché and hosted by idiots. Why is it popular? All that I see is a terrible karaoke show watched over by Louis Walsh, Simon Cowell and a couple of other equally talentless judges – and at the end of it, another talentless individual is crapped out and thrust upon the world with a “guaranteed Christmas Number One” only to sink back into obscurity a year or two later. Get rid of it immediately.

Animals – Wasps

Yet another creature I have ranted about. They serve no purpose whatsoever other than to sting human beings and make an absolute nuisance of themselves on a beautiful sunny summer day. They are horrible, vindictive creatures that turn human beings into jabbering wrecks.

Books – The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy

When I was a young man at school, I was introduced to English Literature – and was forced to read this novel – and then write at least two essays about it. I hated it – and it got me into trouble several times. Our homework was to read three chapters and then discuss them in class and I simply could not bring myself to do so – it was so tedious. Invariably I was caught out when after two seconds it was clear that I hadn’t read any of it and had to spend yet another detention reading the bloody thing. I wanted to read Jules Verne, H.G.Wells and George Orwell – but no – I had to read this tripe – and then write utterly pointless essays about it. It almost killed my love of books and that is a crime I simply cannot forgive – so it has to go into Room 101 where Piers Morgan should be forced to read it over and over again. Mind you, he’d probably like it.

Politicians – Boris Johnson

I am tempted to put ALL politicians into Room 101 but instead I will pick on just one; the Mayor of London – Boris Johnson. This man is a bumbling oaf and it amazes me that he can get dressed in the morning, let alone run the capital of England. He struggles to speak because he constantly has his foot in his mouth and has the ability to embarrass himself because of his appearance and his irritating voice. I used to think he was just a joke and now he is the mayor, who knows where he can go? There are even fools who want him to be our Prime Minister. He must go into Room 101 where he and Piers can spend eternity pissing each other off. Mind you, they probably like each other.

China – Chinese Toilets

Regular readers will know that I love China but despise Chinese toilets. Many people think it is better to squat rather than sit but to be honest, that is a recipe for disaster, particularly in public Chinese toilets. I have almost thrown up several times when approaching them, particularly the worst kind – a public toilet on a building site. Thankfully I have stayed in hotels that have pristine, shining western style toilets – and I figure that if I put Chinese toilets into Room 101 then the Chinese will invest in proper loos that don’t make me throw up my breakfast. And of course the added bonus of Chinese toilets being in Room 101 would be that Piers Morgan would have to use them. Mind you, he would probably enjoy that.

And furthermore, Piers Morgan would probably enjoy living in Room 101.

What would you put in Room 101, dear reader?

Fear (Part Five) - Chinese Toilets

Warning:

This post, as the title suggests, talks about toilets - but not just any toilets.

It talks about Chinese toilets, arguably the worst toilets in the world.

If you are in any way squeamish, it might be better to give this one a miss.

For the rest of you brave souls …

I was worried about one thing and one thing alone when I returned to China this year; yes – the prospect of having to use Chinese toilets.

You may feel that this was an overreaction but I can promise you it wasn’t.

I am used to pristine wonderful loos. I have encountered many disgusting toilets, particularly public ones, in Britain, America, Australia, Europe, Canada, South Africa and similar places but most have been usable. It’s all relative, you see.

Sadly, in China, toilets are quite simply awful. I am really sorry and ashamed to admit that the one thing that struck fear into the very core of my soul was the prospect of eating something that wanted to churn my guts, causing a major intestinal problem and forcing me to use a Chinese toilet that belonged in the seventh level of Hell.

Here are the toilets I encountered on my recent trip to Kunming in descending order of horror.

The Hotel Toilet

I stayed in a 5 star hotel on the outskirts of Kunming. It was a wonderful place with a palatial lobby, perfect food, and a room that was massive and magnificent. On that first jet-lagged day, I walked into the room and goggled at the splendour of the king-sized bed and the pristine décor.

What was my first thought? It was:

“What is the loo like?”

Thankfully the toilet was pure and unsullied. I sat on the throne and looked out over the Kunming skyline from my perch. It was only later, when I used it for the first time that I realised with the aid of strategically placed mirrors, I could actually see how unattractively podgy I was. I was fascinated by the image of myself sitting there and a little disappointed. I apologise for the picture this creates in your mind, dear reader.

Suffice it to say, I was delighted with this toilet and pledged to use it every day – as long as my body clock could handle the time difference caused by jet lag.

The Office Toilet

My main place of work was on a building site, which I shall describe later. Thankfully, on two occasions I was fortunate to work in an office in Kunming.

“Where is the toilet?” I asked a colleague.

The closest toilet was a few seconds from our office. The sun shone through the window of that toilet for the best part of the day, heating it up and breathing new life into the odours that called the place home.

I used the toilet (having drunk too much coffee) and the smell was almost a physical entity, waiting to slap me around the head as I entered the loo. The technique that worked for me was to take a deep breath, run in, do the business as quickly as possible and then run out again.

Local Chinese office workers must have thought I was a total goon.

In terms of cleanliness, the toilet was of course a squatter, thankfully with traps for privacy, and a flush that worked but couldn’t remove the smell. The stench was terrible and, as the day wore on and the sun beat down, the odour monster drifted out into the corridor and into our office. We had to shut the door to keep it out.

There was no toilet paper.

Bar Toilet

I visited a couple of bars in Kunming and each had a toilet; just one toilet to share between all the clientele, both male and female. In one such toilet was a picture of Mr T pointing at me while I was doing the business and saying:

“NO POOP FOOL!”

In another bar, there was a similar warning:

“PLEASE – NO POO!! Public bathroom is across street. If you shit, other people must clean it up because the pipes are too small to pass shit.”

People had added their thoughts at the end of the sign:

“Bad diarrhoea is possibly OK”

“Don’t you mean shit diarrhoea?”

“Is there such a thing as good diarrhoea?”

The toilet was, of course a squatter and once more there was no toilet paper.

Building Site Toilet Two

We worked on a building site – a very muddy, filthy and dangerous building site. As you can imagine, the toilets were pretty grim and very temporary.

Thankfully, the constructors had installed running water, urinals and private traps with flushes. The traps were full of mud and filth and were, in the Chinese tradition, squatters. The smell was almost overpowering, but if you were quick enough, you could escape unscathed.

When I first saw the toilet facilities that were on offer, realising that would spend most of my day at the building site, I began to realise that sooner or later I might have to bite the bullet and use the squatters.

I won’t go into the thoughts that went through my mind but I spent hours concocting a plan for their use. I won’t share these with you, dear reader, because I have had to share them with myself – and they are not pleasant. Sometimes I hate my imagination.

And, of course, there was no toilet paper.

Building Site Toilet One

On our first day at the building site, I asked about the facilities. We were lead to the workers village, a hastily built area where makeshift accommodation had been quickly constructed to house the many Chinese workers and their families. The conditions were filthy; while the men worked, theirs wives and children spent their time in small houses, not much bigger than garden sheds. Facilities such as toilets were laid on for them and we were told that we would have to use these too.

“Where are they?” I asked.

My nose told me exactly where they were.

Several yards away was a building and I looked upon it with absolute dread.

As we approached I found myself being beaten up by the invisible monster that was providing the increasingly vile stench. The monster was rampant and I shrank in its presence.

Somebody pointed to a door.

I had to see what I was letting myself in for.

I walked towards it and, probably being braver than I have ever been, I walked into Hell on Earth.

The toilet was thankfully quite dark and dingy; nevertheless the lack of light couldn’t hide what I saw.

There were five “stalls” separated by walls that were around three feet high. Underneath the walls was a thin gutter to catch human by-products. There was absolutely no toilet paper and even less privacy. I almost wretched before I realised something was horribly wrong.

Squatting there as bold as brass was a Chinese worker having a crap in full view of me. He was in no way ashamed and stared at me as if I were an alien.

I had to escape and did so as if I had the hounds of Hell chasing me to bite my arse.

“What’s it like?” asked a work colleague.

“Put it this way,” I replied. “I hope you are not shy.”

I spent that first night beating myself up, formulating a plan to avoid having a crap in full view of anybody who was there to watch.

Thankfully, we discovered “Building Site Toilet Two” (described above) the next day – it wasn’t perfect but compared to this festering cesspit, it was like the Ritz.

Thankfully, I managed to use the hotel toilet each time and completely avoid any squatters whatsoever.

Sadly, I am going back to Kunming in January or February next year and I fear that my record may not remain intact.

Another work colleague suggested that perhaps when I revisit Kunming, I could avoid using squatters by strategic use of Immodium and laxatives. This was the same person who also suggested that I:

“Keep a stiff upper lip and think of England!”

Do people even say that any more?

I don’t think so!