Japanese Hotel Room

The over enjoyment I guess is part due to never having stayed in a hotel room by myself, but I've spent a throughly pleasurable hour or so getting up. The walking around in the nude being a definite highlight, quickly enhanced by the discovery of the Japanese dressing gown. Using this light cotton robe without the fastening band is an unexplainable treat, Its like being nude but this light cotton kind of flayals about you creating wee mini drafts, and when you need the coverage–for example, to rest this book on my lap as I write–you can just pull it across. If I was to go insane for a short while this would be the ideal dress code to wander the main train station in while hurling obscenities at commuters.

I boiled my jug–a single serve stainless steel jug that sits on its own wee custom made Sony element, all so dinky and Japanese–and prepared my green tea, which, incidentally, is on its 4th refill and still giving me satisfaction. I think the green tea is also a major contributing factor in the enjoyment of this robe. I've even taken to wearing the we slippers, although only coming to about midway along the sole of my foot, throughly a necessary part of the entire equation.

So eventually the moment I'd been waiting for, I'd been eagerly awaiting that ominous feeling that directs you toward the toilet. I'd even refrained from giving the toilet a full inspection on arrival so as not to detract from this moment. I had noticed on first entering the room that it was one of the famous Japanese toilets and I'd not yet had the pleasure of defecating one. So It was finally time. I had butterflies as I swung the bathroom door open to reveal technology at its mightiest. On initial sighting it looks more like a time travel machine than a toilet, I'm sure that with the addition of a flux capacitor you could find yourself relieving your bowels at the Enchantment Under the Sea prom. So I grabbed a Japanese junk-mail magazine, flicked my robe up and eased myself down onto the perfectly heated seat, ideally set to exact body temperature. An indulgence worth checking into a Japanese hotel for on its own.

After my business it was time to detach the remote from the wall... yes indeed, a remote for the toilet. My adventure was just beginning. There were 5 or 6 buttons and various power levels available in a combination of Japanese Kanji, strange English and brilliant pictograms. Including a distinct set of bum cheeks aligned over a fountain. A favourite button was the deodorant, for those particularly nasty ones. Also a mock flush for the ultimate in discretion during those noisy post-bean moments. After pressing a few buttons, changing a few levels and illuminating various lights I found myself still where I started, still without sanitation and still in 2007. It wasn't until I noticed the secondary control panel located on the on the back side of the bowl–next to the hand brake. I pressed a few of these buttons, which were purely in Japanese–admitably slightly nervous about the outcome. (thoughts going through my mind of mechanical hands appearing for wiping and even some bum cheek massaging, a concerning thought as I've some very important instrumentation of my own down there that I'd hate to have at the mercy of haywire electronic hands) These buttons, however, set the toilet into life and gave power to my remote. Two different jet options were available offering different angles on the task. There was also the option of 5 different power levels–3 being the best, 5 verging on violation. It was amazing to note their accuracy, both jets hit the spot with military precision. I've no doubt that the seat must have weighed me when I first sat down, calculated my body mass index, derived my particular physique and subsequently the exact point of intersection for maximised sanitation. A phenomenon to behold!

This precision did get me wondering though. I began to contemplate the manufacture of these machines, moreover the research team. Not a job that would particularly interest me, although the challenge would have been fun. Maybe they used mirrors on sticks like giant dentist tools to determine the ideal trajectory? Maybe glass bowls? I'll leave it up to your imagination.

But with all the fun and games my green tea was empty and all buttons exhausted of their entertainment value. So it was up to flick my wee element on and see what else my hotel room had to offer.