Friday, 30 March 2012

TOILET RATING: THE WINDSOR HOTEL, MELBOURNE


Do I dare?

Do I dare rate a place so elegant as The Windsor Hotel, Spring Street, Melbourne?

Oh yes; I do.

This is by far the most elegantly beautiful toilet that my arse has ever had the privilege to grace.

I was so impressed, that I would have taken a photo of the cubicles for you if it wouldn’t have seen me physically removed from the premises.

It was beautiful.

Now, these are the toilets that are located just off the foyer of the grand hotel.  I was there for High Tea (inserts silver spoon in mouth), and had the need to use the facilities, as one does after drinking copious amounts of tea.

When you enter the ‘Powder Room’, you’re greeted by a room that is so elegant in its simplicity.  Soft lighting illuminates two gorgeous wing back chairs in beautiful, rich fabrics, with a small table and massive bouquet of flowers on one side of the room, with a massive mirror and marble vanity (with complementary tissues) on the other side.

When you pass through the Powder Room, you enter the cubicle/wash area of the facilities.  The cubicles themselves were constructed of solid timber doors and walls (not all the way to the floor or ceiling, mind you), and beautifully tiled floors. 

It was so elegant, that even the cubicle was furnished!  On the rear wall of the cubicle, above the toilet itself, was a lovely picture with an old-world lamp above it, casting a soft light over the artwork. 

And ladies; the crème de la crème: there was a small shelf on the side wall of the cubicle FOR YOUR HANDBAG.

No putting bags on the floor at The Windsor (not that this floor was even remotely close to dirty – I could have eaten off it), nor hanging them on the back of the door like commoners.  No; a small shelf for your handbag.

Room?  Oh yes.  There was so much room in this cubicle, that even with my fat posterior on the toilet seat, I still had about six inches between myself and the discreet sanitary napkin disposal bin!  So much room!!

AND: Four. Ply. Toilet. Paper.

Yes, you read correctly.  Four ply toilet paper, my friends.  Four ply.  I was in heaven.

At the wash basins (I’m at a loss to think of what I could call them that’s more elegant), were individual soap dispensers (not common units stuck on the wall that you have to pump 120 times to get anything out of, if you’re lucky), and a basket with rolled up face washers.  Omg.

AND; paper towels for drying your hands.  No electric dryers in this place, my friends.  Oh no.  Paper towels.

The only thing I can criticise, and that’s me being uber picky, is the stairs.  I had to walk down a flight of stairs to get to the toilets. 

The stairwell was wide, beautifully decorated and lit, with lovely carpet and shallow stairs, so it wasn’t such a trauma in heels.  There was a gorgeous mirror at the top of the stairs, so you could give yourself a last moment ‘once over’ before returning to the human race. 

However, the old, frail or disabled could not possibly handle the stairs, but one would assume that there would be facilities suitable for those not able to tackle them.

Did I mention the smell?  I don’t know what it was, but there was a lovely, gentle perfume in the air.  No horrendous public toilet smells that make you wonder what the fuck the person in the cubicle before you had eaten for lunch.

The whole facility was simple, practical and elegant; a dream toilet.

Not only did I not use hand sanitizer, but I specifically washed my hands just so I could use the soap dispenser, face washers and paper towels. 

I actually think I walked out of those toilets cleaner that I would have been after having a shower.  Seriously; just beautiful.

Out of a possible five flushes, The Windsor Hotel achieved an elegant five.

Peace out.

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