The Most 'Far Out' Toilet Award

This award has been inspired by the numerous extra-ordinary toilet experiences I have had the privilege of encountering over the last 4 months. Prior to backpacking around the world, I would never have considered that such a topic would be worthy of a blog post. Alas, my ignorant Western toilet experiences where I'd commonly spend a lot longer than necessary on the loo with my latest copy of Better Homes & Gardens or some fashion magazine propped on my lap did not prepare me well for what lay ahead.

I am now a changed woman. The new (and sometimes quite horrid) toilet experiences which I have survived to tell tales about have taught me to treat the toilet simply as a functional tool and no longer as a place of comfort or a 'break' from concentrated work.

So without further ado, the award nominees are:

5. In 5th place - Precariously balancing on 2 wooden planks above a drop/pit toilet only 2 metres deep below me out on the Mongolian steppe whilst a swarm of flies attacked my then tender butt (wild horse riding has now changed the condition of my butt too).

4. In 4th place - Sporadically going and then changing my mind and then going again and then changing my mind again ... at a pit toilet stop during a bus journey in Mongolia because 4 toilets were alligned but with only 1 metre high partitions, allowing the 2 men on either side of me to easily peer into my portion of the toilet. Needless to say, it wasn't a very comfortable experience.

3. In 3rd place - Dry retching and feverishly sweating at the stench of a reeking drop toilet whilst constipated and trying to go myself at a particular homestay in Tajikistan.

2. And the runner up is - Sweating it out nervously to do a 'No. 2' as quickly as possible out in the Mongolian desert whilst a baby calf fixatedly peered in on me through the planks of the wooden drop toilet hut.

1. And the winner is - The pathway in the little Tajik village of Langar where I could not even find a drop toilet so I had to just do it on the pathway and then wipe myself with a branch and two leaves with two little Tajik girls narrowly missing the spectacle! It happened to also be 'that time of the month' so it was particularly messy and this experience was particularly scarring in all its vulnerability.