Narita Tobu Airport Hotel - (4am jet lag blogging)

As a child I was delighted by testing out toilets in public places. Actually, to be more accurate it was more of a harmless, but no less weird, obsession. Ever since I got the hang of toilet training I became fascinated with the sheer variety of bathroom set-ups around. Would there be posh soap/cheap soap/no soap (have yet to get over my disgust about that last one), would there be hand dryers/paper towels/fancy electronic drying systems that I'd invariably find myself acting like a crazy person in front of, throwing my hands about inside to keep it from switching itself off prematurely. Of course, in my earlier years there were less worldly distractions, I could slip off to the restaurant toilet four or five times an evening, basking in the solitary refuge of that single cubicle where your mind could (as mine did far too frequently) go 'off with the fairies' as my school Chemistry teacher used to say.

You can imagine my amazement then at first sight of an electronic Japanese toilet. I'll be honest, it was pretty overwhelming. I can't tell you if my first response to sitting down on a sanitized and heated toilet seat was sheer joy or disbelief. The thought of having to wee seems oddly irrelevant when there are so many buttons and flashy lights around you. This was no toilet! No! This was a mini rocket launcher ready to propel me into space, fighting unsanitary galactic warriors with a warm tush and a flushing soundtrack. I kid you not. There were buttons for everything imaginable, from producing a whooshing sound to preserve a lady's modesty (volume control of course) to bidet style spray functions for front and back (varying strength of spray to one's liking). That one was a bit of a shock. Not that I'm a stranger to the 'splash before you dash' technique; I have attempted using a Cambodian 'bum-gun' whilst staying in the arse end (pardon the pun) of nowhere two years ago. Not entirely bad, kind of like being sprayed with the garden hose when you were five, just as cold but ok once you get over the initial shock.

Anyway, when I finally disembarked from my Japanese rocket-launcher I met the bathroom attendant lady, sweetly pottering about, that same gloriously amiable ('just won the lotto jackpot') smile on her face that I've noticed on so many (particularly older) Japanese ladies since arriving yesterday. Washing my hands I started to feel most uncertain. Reading so much about the unusual customs here I found myself wondering…what was the etiquette? Should I bow and thank her for her services - "I feel warm both bottom and soul! Arigato Gozaimasu!" Was it the same etiquette as, say, leaving a great night at the theatre? - "Thoroughly entertaining! Bravo!!" I think she must have sensed my caution as she started busily chatting away to me in the sing-song Japanese which I'll hopefully pick up over the next couple of months. As I retreated towards the exit bowing awkwardly I just hoped she knew she'd made this scraggly travelling girl's day that bit toastier :)