Boldly Go Solo

The very essential traveler's guide to bathrooms

Today's post is brought to you by "The Bathroom Diaries." This is one down-to-earth Web site on the essentials of waste, and the receptacles that receive it. Fun, funny and highly useful if you're the type that plans in advance. And you really, really want a clean and comfortable place to go.

Its contributors have scoured the globe to report back on the toilet scene around the world. They give Golden Plunger awards to the world's best bathroom. And offer "true tales of tawdry toilets." Really, this site is a gas.

If toilet talk is not your thing, the time to stop reading is now!

A personal admission: I can get obsessed with toilets/bathrooms. Also known as the loo, the can, the head, the latrine, the throne, the privy, the W.C., the powder room the lavatory (deep breath here - unless you're actually in or on one), the washroom, the chamber pot, the john, the bathroom, the restroom, the lavatory, the commode. Chime in if you've got other faves.

When in Thailand, I was faced with the prospect of the squat toilet. (Upon which "downhill skiers have the clear advantage," according to the site.)

The Thai toilets were mostly clean and worked quite well. But via a bowl and a tank of water on the side that you used to "flush" with. Scoop, pour, scoop, pour, scoop, pour. Voila! Flushed.

But then there was the issue of the foot rests. The porcelain square on the ground usually had a place marked for your feet. What was not marked was which direction you were supposed to stand. I mean, squat.

Take a photo of an information board and you have an instant carry along map and brochure

Smapping. That's what Mike Sowden calls it when you become your own cartographer/photographer:

"Smapping is the process of taking a digital photograph of a map that you won’t have access to later, except if you take a snap of it."

This is brilliant. I've done something similar by snapping signs and information boards when I didn't want to copy down a lot of facts. Just photo it, and it's yours for posterity. It's like having a researcher/assistant on board taking notes.

But I didn't really think about it for local maps. That is, to have one on your camera, instantly.

Using a photo of a map in real time may not be as nice as having an actual map of a place. But if you don't have one, I could see where a photo could come in very handy. As Sowden points out, it may seem small, but you can zoom in for details.

I like taking photos of local historical or informational signs because they're often more detailed than explanations in guidebooks. Or contain facts that you might not see anywhere else.

Another reason I snap is to place the scenery that I'm photographing once I get home. Sometimes, the places all begin to merge in my mind days or weeks later. If I take photos of signs as I enter or leave a place, I will know where my photos are from. 

Photos: Ellen Perlman

1- Valley of the Kings, Egypt

2- Manapouri, New Zealand

3- Skylab sign in Houston Space Center Museum

Learning about Irish history after a trip to Northern Ireland

I just put the movie "Bloody Sunday" on my Netflix list. (Clearly, this is not going to be your typical St. Patrick's Day green-beer travel story.)

The movie is a docu-drama about a massacre of unarmed civilian demonstrators in the Catholic Bogside district of Derry, Northern Ireland, in 1972. And, according to the review, "the event has been blamed for turning peaceful dissent into two decades of civil war, and inspiring thousands of young men to join the IRA."
 
After reading recently about the movie--and this is where the travel part comes in--I realized I don't know as much about this event as I'd like. Because I visited Northern Ireland in 2007, including Derry, I now find myself wanting to become more educated about how some of the worst strife started. Even more than a year later.

This is what travel does. It opens your eyes to things you might not have paid close attention to before.

The same thing happened during my college days. After spending my junior year in England, and traveling around Europe between terms, I became enamored of Italian art. When I returned my senior year, I took an entire year of art survey courses, excited to learn more about what I'd seen abroad.

Often I was able to envision where that art was made, or is now hung, in European museums. And that made those courses three-dimensional and pulled me in more than they might have otherwise.

Some people have always loved reading about history and culture. I guess I'm one of those people who needs to "touch." Once I visit a country, I'm forever interested in learning more about it. From the news. From books. From movies.

When I watch Bloody Sunday," not only will I be interested in the story but I will also keep my eyes peeled for places I might have been in Derry/Londonderry (what you call it depends on your political perspective.)

That added depth of experience about history and the world is what keeps me traveling. Whether someone's willing to join me on any given trip, or not.

Oh, and um, happy St. Patty's Day.

Photos: Ellen Perlman.
The walled city of Derry

Irish jokes, accents, food, songs and solo travel

"My father was a big whiskey drinker. He said that when he died, he wanted to be cremated. It took them three days to put the fire out."  Joke, courtesy of Hugh, my bus driver during a tour of Northern Ireland.

When someone ran out in front of our moving bus to cross a Belfast street, he said, "I guess that fella's tired of living."

I craved a seat next to Hugh on that trip. He was alternatively funny and hugely informative. The major problem was understanding what he was actually saying. His Irish English was so strong, we sometimes had to get him to spell things so we'd know what he was saying.

See that tar? That what? That tar. What's a tar? Not tar, tar. Spell it. T-O-W-E-R. Oohhh. Tower!!

I wouldn't have experienced Hugh without signing up for a group trip and going on my own. If I'd traveled through Northern Ireland with friends, I would have heard a lot of American conversation, including my own. Who needs to travel for that?

Snag a snug and down some Irish whiskey

Ever sit in a "snug?" In the Crown Bar, a former gin joint also known as the Crown Liquor Saloon, the snugs are private, carved wood booths. Wait staff can pass drinks over the top of the cubicle-like snugs, or open the door and hand them in.

The Crown Bar is in the heart of Belfast. But isn't Belfast dangerous, you ask? Not any more so than other urban area.

Peace broke out in Northern Ireland, as of the signing in the 90's of an agreement between the Catholics and the Protestants. "The Troubles" are no more, although you can see much of the history of them via huge murals on walls and houses around the city. And people still hold grudges and have prejudices, like human beings everywhere.   

But tourism is coming back. The Crown Bar, near the Grand Opera House, was hopping on the Saturday night I wandered in. What a fine, historic interior. Etched and painted glass. Brocade walls. Red granite topped bar. And a lively crowd, packed in all possible spaces.

I was in Northern Ireland with a tour group but I had time to wander off on my own each day. Including after dinner, which is when I explored the Crown.

Another afternoon in Belfast I found "Joy's Entry" and several other narrow, maze-like pedestrian passages between buildings. You enter these walks and find "secret" pubs and restaurants like McCrackens or O'Neill's.

A sign on a brick wall near one of the entries says they are "the close-knit passageways where Belfast was born and bred." I can imagine a great movie scene where people being chased slip into one of these entries and lose the car that was after them. 

I also took a "black taxi tour" and learned a lot about the history of The Troubles. My guide, Ken Harper, explained the symbolism on some of the murals. For instance, an "H" is for H block in a Northern Irish prison where Bobby Sands, an Irish Republican prisoner went on a hunger strike and died.