The small town of Elphinstone was formerly known as Sawpit Gully, but was renamed after The Honourable Mountstuart Elphinstone, son of Lord Elphinstone and Governor of Bombay. The family of Lord Sawpit protested, but what can you do? All things must pass.
So it was with Pizza Hut, which hoodwinked a generation of Australians (your correspondent included) inside its doors for birthday parties and eating contests, until the nation realised that if it was going to sit around and eat crap, it wasn’t getting off the bloody couch to do so. Luckily a few of its now-shuttered restaurants were able to be saved and repurposed, as depicted here.
All that was left to do was sprinkle about some spiders in various nooks and crannies, and toot toot, instant public toilet.
Since its installation, the dunny has proven to be so popular amongst the community that the local land management association now posts regular trip reports there. Binoculars out!
There’s even powered campsites right out front should you wish to set up for a few days and admire the dunny’s simple majesty. And why not? Up the road is the Elphinstone Hotel which has been going in some form or another since the 1860s—we look forward to the day it gives the public toilet a big boost in business by putting on an authentic 19th century Bombay curry, in honour of the town’s eponymous nobleman.
Made an unscheduled stop here on the way home from Auntie Marge’s funeral due to a dodgy chicken vol-au-vent. Big mistake. Poor lighting meant I didn’t see the semi dried seat gravy before it was too late. Spent 10 minutes fighting the half ply, one sheet per pull dispenser only to end up using my socks to finish the job. Went to leave but the lock was busted and kept turning. Inward opener so I was stuffed. Fortunately Mrs BK came looking and rang the shire for help. It was after hours so they sent the fire brigade under the guise of a “rescue” job. Cheeky buggers declared it a Hazmat job and put me through the decontamination shower! Give this one a miss. 1/10.
Mate. One-sheet-per-pull is an Affront to God. What the purpose of such an undignified restriction is, I have no idea. Nobody in their right mind would steal half-ply for personal use. It exists purely to degrade, much like my ‘to do’ post-it note which has featured ‘reply to blog comments’ up the top for the past month.