I’ve typed this out before but I can’t find the full details.
I was on the way back from Strasbourg and got one of those “uh-oh!” stomach grumbles (I was just learning that I’m lactose intolerant around then. I had had a very large pizza for lunch). Proper “you need to find a toilet now, pal, because this is happening whether you like it or not.” stuff.
So I trot down to the public loos and am greeted with, firstly, an overwhelming stench of vomit, and, secondly, a drunk/smacked up/dunno guy passed out across the turnstiles. Carry on regardless, and three of the five cubicles are barred off by the cleaning staff. Go into one of the two open stalls, and there’s fresh blood around all of the walls from about waist height down. The state of the toilet itself defies description.
So it’s the second toilet, then. Time is not on my side at this point. The second cubicle had… less blood. But still blood, quite a lot of it, and fresh looking. The toilet bowl was caked in shit, but at least the water level was below the rim. That had to do.
This was in the middle of the day on a Monday, and with three cleaning staff already there.