The bathroom ‘grease trap’.
I’ve only lived in two places in Copenhagen and both have had unusual drainage systems in the bathroom.
The first flat had a bath with a shower over it. I love baths and coming from Melbourne, which was in drought when I left, baths were a luxury and it was a hassle knowing you had to bucket the water outside into the garden if you did have one.
Moving into a flat with a bath was, at first, heaven.
I quickly did a huge wash of clothes, drew a bath and luxuriated with a book as soon as I moved in. The joy soon turned to dismay and disgust half an hour later when I realised I’d failed to notice the washing machine outlet drained straight into the bath where I lay.
In this flat, the washing machine, via a rather unusual piping system, drains into the shower recess but I can cope with dirty washing water flooding my feet on the off chance I misjudge the cycle.
What I did find hard to cope with today was the drain from the shower and basin gurgling up and flooding the bathroom floor as I stood shaving at the basin.
As anyone who knows me will attest, I am no handyman. I groaned and stood looking at the drain for a while, realising I would have to do something. You can’t live without a bathroom.
I dressed and grabbed a screwdriver and prised the floor drain open to be greeted by the most disgusting mess I’ve seen for a long time. This small square pit was literally full of – I don’t know how long’s – worth of gunk. We’ve not even been here two months, so it can’t have been ours.
I grabbed a bucket and latex glove and started scooping it out. It stank like nothing on Earth and I dry-reached several times but finally, mission accomplished and it was unblocked.
I feel, understandably, very proud of my accomplishment.
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