I was in Spain at an outdoor market and I had the trots.
The ONLY toilet consisted of a hole in the ground, 2 grab handles and a door which was hanging off its hinges.
I positioned myself over hole, gripped handles and let go, aaaaaahhhhh the relief 
Looked around for some toilet paper…egad! none.
However there was a waste bin in the corner full of newspaper, wet newspaper…I had no choice, there I was wiping my nethers on the soggy mess while clinging on to one grab handle…what a fucking fiasco. To cap it all, during this experience people were trying to get in the toilet and I’m screaming “NO” whilst trying to keep the door shut.
Anyways I did my best, still felt absolutely…erm…shitty so went back to hotel for proper wash and brush up. Next time we went to the market I made certain a couple of rolls of Andrex went along with us.
THAT WAS HORROR STORY ONE…now read on.
Again in Spain, Benidorm, and again I’ve got the trots but this time I’m on the beach with my son who was 11 at the time.
Nearest toilet is about 300 yards away across the beach and over the road, I never would have made it.
So I started to wade into the sea which in Benidorm means you have to wade out about 150 yards before the sea covers your waist. I made it and let go while splashing furiously to disguise any thingies.
Now then, I 'm wearing a pair of white shorts so I waved to my son to come towards me, he does and I stop him before he gets to close, I tell him what I’ve had to do and ask him if there is any residue on the back of my shorts, I turn round and he says “No dad, your fine”
Still feeling mucky I wade out, walk across the beach and down the road to the hotel for a shower.
Gets into hotel room,strips off and there is a bloody great skid mark on my shorts which all of Benidorm had seen.
“You little bugger” I say to sprog, “Hey dad you’d have done the same if it was me” he replied.
Touche.
That is all