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KIRKY

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I didn't even know that there were public toilets in Britain any more (I presume that that is what you are talking about?) Haven't they all been vandalised or closed down as an economy measure?

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I didn't even know that there were public toilets in Britain any more (I presume that that is what you are talking about?) Haven't they all been vandalised or closed down as an economy measure?

Sorry for not making myself clearer. I was thinking more of restaurants and pubs.

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I'll let you off this time, but don't let it happen again!

I rarely find any problem with restaurant, etc toilets.

The older cafes can have ancient standards, but the average pub toilet in Britain hasn't been renovated since Thomas Crapper was a small lad.

usually the problem for the British is that they don't have the same hangups (they have plenty, but different) - unisex toilets, for example.

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I've never had to give a pin number in an ordinary transaction. I have had trouble using a debit card to withdraw money in Belgium a couple of times. The machine has failed to recognise my Visa-endorsed card and pin.

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I rarely find any problem with ... toilets.

You're not female... (are you?)

Unisex is not a problem (seen it all etc).

But holes in the floor... (Gwyn shudders delicately, blushing) :o

Never!! (Aghast.)

Gwyn

PS Alsace is Civilised in a woman sort of way.

PPS. On my third trip to Germany I found out that H on the door does not = Hers. :o

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During the Soviet era, and admittedly the worse for drink, I walked way into a women's room just off Red Square- made me a bit nervous, but escaped.

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French automated petrol pumps don't accept British cards.

Especially on Sundays when you're lost, tired and hungry with a nagging wife and two wailing kids and no petrol and eighty five miles to your hotel.

Not that it's happened to me.......

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But holes in the floor... (Gwyn shudders delicately, blushing) :o

Whilst in Dubai last year I had a mooch around the dock area which is absolutely stuffed with all manner of boats that trade in the Arabian Gulf area. They don't look the sturdiest of constructions but what got my attention more than anything was that they all had barrels stuck to the side of the boat and open to the sea. This particular type of "head" obviously has not undergone a design change in some time. Holes in the floor suddenly seemed like luxury.

Andy

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admittedly the worse for drink, I walked way into a women's room just off Red Square

By mistake? Yeah right.....lurker :ph34r::lol:

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French automated petrol pumps don't accept British cards.

That happened to me in Rouen and another town with US card and I really felt retarded, it worked inside so I had no clue it was not my fault. How come it works inside?

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Holes in the floor suddenly seemed like luxury.

Andy

Took you back to your days as an aspiring hillbilly in Eastern Kentucky huh? :lol: There are a few privies right over the creek but the real problem is lots of straight pipes from the house to the creek.

You know there are squatters in some new facilities in France like supermarkets, just different idea of sanitation but I had rather use a privy, aint afreard a fallin backards! :ph34r:

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admittedly the worse for drink, I walked way into a women's room just off Red Square

By mistake? Yeah right.....lurker

Moi? A prevert? Well define prevert! :ph34r:

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French automated petrol pumps don't accept British cards.

Not that it's happened to me.......

Similarly, I’ve never had the experience of being treated to a decent feed halfway across France then watching your partner rummaging though a year’s worth of credit card slips and dead moths in his wallet before realising that his credit card is still in the petrol station at the exit from Eurotunnel cos you have to hand it in to the cashier before putting fuel in your tank if you’re using it before six in the morning because you realised that you’ve only got a teaspoonful of expensive over-taxed UK fuel left to get you to a French petrol station which will in all probability be closed and the automated pumps will probably swallow your card if they don’t decline it...

Gwyn

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Gwyn, let me introduce you to the comma (,).

It provides a natural pause, in a sentence, for the reader to breathe. Otherwise you'll find that the readerhasjustspentthelsttwominutesreadingandgoingblueintheface.

You're normally so eloquent!

But you're right. And I'll bet you didn't enjoy the food.

Graeme

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I think Gwyn flow of consciousness approach to her posting was a deliberate artistic device to communicate the panic and trauma of the event ! I used to do the "vapour in the tank" channel crossing when I last had a diesel car due to the vast price differential between UK and France. This sometimes caused a problem when the anticipated immediate fuel stop was shut.

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Graeme's response made me smile.

And Ian, yes you were right, it was.

Gwyn :)

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You get used to them in time. At least that is what my wife says!

Holes in the floor are disappearing at about the same rate as ancient toilets are disappearing from pubs in England.

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ancient toilets are disappearing from pubs in England.

Gone are the times when going to the bog at the pub used to be akin to taking part in the Krypton Factor assault course, across the unlit car park into an equally unlit urinal area. The smell....well, i'll leave that to the imagination. Getting there and back intact, whilst under the influence, certainly sorted the men from the boys. Oh happy days :D

Andy

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French automated petrol pumps don't accept British cards.

I can total sympathise with you on this one.

A few years ago, myself, hubby and a friend of his took the bikes down to my parents house in The Vendee region in France.

Had a terrific 2 weeks in the sunshine, riding around, taking in the sites.

To get home meant a night ride across France, up to Cherbourg.

No problemo! Lots of garages open 24 hrs, we'll stop at Rennes for fuel for the final stretch to Cherbourg.

Got to Rennes, lots of signs of petrol stations to come ... but NO petrol stations open .... NIGHTMARE!!!

So we rode on as far as we could and got to Avaranche at 5.30am and could go no further.

Pulled into a supermarket garage to be met with a hand written sign telling us English cards don't work in french 24/24 gas pumps.

I was inconsolable!

Anyway, I noticed that there were people milling around, waiting to go into work at the supermarket. So I sprinted over and in my finest franglaise asked if anyone spoke english and if anyone could help us to get fuel for the 2 motorbikes.

The first guy I asked said something rude and dismissed me, but a lady came up to me and said that she spoke a little English and what was it we needed. So I explained to her that we had to get to Cherbourg before 6.30 or we'd miss our boat and that we had run out of fuel, had LOADS of cash but no French bank cards.

Bless her, she said that she didn't carry her card but she'd ask inside for me if anyone else had theirs.

5 mins later she appears and yells for us to stay put, got in her car and hurtled off. Another 5 mins elapsed and she returned, bank card in hand and let us fill the bikes up.

I was soooo happy I hugged her and gave her all the cash we had. I think she must have made about £25 out of us but we were so grateful!

We made it to Cherbourg by the skin of our teeth!

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certainly sorted the men from the boys.

Maybe; but did it sort the ladies from the gents..?

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There you are, you see. There are civilised natives in these foreign parts.

Some of us get along with them very well indeed. Of course, we have to bring presents of beads and shiny glass occasionally (you know the glass as a wine glass). The glass is, preferably, filled with a lovely liquid.

I'm glad someone could help you. British cards without a PIN are a pain. Nothing you can do about it until the British banks and credit card companies get their act together (why don't they?).

I find that in most places someone will try to help if they can (not just France).

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You get used to them in time. 

No you don't.

Nor have I any intention of trying. I have viewed one once, somewhere (not France). It was an open sewer.

The alternative is the disabled ones, which are usually civilised and you don't feel that you need a shower after visiting them.

Gwyn, Domestos Goddess

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Fleur, what a fantastic story!

I do love a happy ending...

Gwyn :)

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During the Soviet era, and admittedly the worse for drink, I walked way into a women's room just off Red Square- made me a bit nervous, but escaped.

I had a similar experience the first time I visited Greece, although I was sober. Confronted by two unintelligible signs it was a matter of eany, meany, miny, mo....and I got it wrong!

As for British loos, the prize must go to a transport cafe near Cannock called the Hollies. Used to stop there regularly because the food was wholesome, but fresh. The menu had "cod (fish) and chips" on it in case you were in any doubt as to what cod was. The loos were a different matter - you had to negotiate axle deep mud ground up by HGVs, and grope your way into a concrete urinal from which the light bulbs had been pinched. I came armed with a torch one night.......and wished I hadn't....haven't eaten there since....

Tim

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and grope your way into a concrete urinal from which the light bulbs had been pinched. I came armed with a torch one night.......and wished I hadn't....haven't eaten there since....

Tim

......that's precisely why there were no light bulbs, Tim!

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