

Gateway drug: Cama shower toilet
One of my dreams has come true. I finally have a shower toilet. As someone who rents, this is something I’ve not been allowed before. The Cama from Geberit is a shower toilet you install yourself, which has its pitfalls. But I still want more
I’ve always wondered why you don’t get shower toilets in every home as standard. My parents put it down to the fact shower toilets are something for rich people. That was obviously an excuse. Even my parents’ wealthiest friends who had flats in Engadine, Spain and Florida didn’t have a shower toilet. My parents simply didn’t want a jet of water for cleaning their behind. It was just a white lie to stop me whining. The only time I’d come across a shower toilet at the time was when I’d seen the guest toilet of a friend whose dad was a plumber. You used your elbow to activate the anal shower. And two large buttons on the cistern set the thing into action. I felt so clean afterwards.

Now the Geberit company has made it possible for that little guy (me) to have my own shower toilet. It’s called Cama and is an extra cistern for my behind, which sits next to the throne. The device is connected to electricity and to a shower unit via a hose. The shower unit is only glued on to the ceramic bowl. This leaves the rental toilet undamaged and keeps the rental company happy because the upgrade you’ve made isn’t permanent.

Small tank and only with remote control or mobile phone
What’s cumbersome is that the water comes from a three-litre tank. If it’s empty, you can remove it and refill it. Thus making «do your business without any toilet roll» a thing of the past. If the tank is empty and my behind dirty, I can still fill it while sitting because I can reach my sink from the loo. After installing, there’s nothing between you and the shower experience.
Or at least, that’s what I thought. I look for a button on my rectal cistern. You can either operate Cama via a wireless remote control or an app. So if I ever need to start the shower toilet from my living room, Geberit has the solution at the ready. But if I don’t have the remote control or my mobile there, nothing works. It’s no longer «do your business without any toilet roll» but «do your business, forget your mobile and lose the remote». A button would be preferable.
Water bum
Though it sounds high tech, the remote control is actually simple. There are three buttons: «water spray», «plus» and «minus» to determine the strength of the jet. The app can also be used to set the temperature. This is why the Cama is called an entry-level model. Travelling to Japan, the undisputed Mecca of the shower toilet, has shown me that professional devices have features such as «oscillation», «hair drying» and «anal location». Meanwhile, Cama is the puristic gateway drug to the shower toilet game. I never want to do without a shower toilet again. I just wish I had a built-in model, as I’m that impressed with the device.

Cama cleans really well. The jet reaches the right spot, is strong enough and can be adjusted to your preferred temperature via the app. A wash cycle (editor’s note: I chose this phrase deliberately here) takes 30 seconds, but can also be interrupted by pressing the button again. There’s not much else to say about how it works.
What’s annoying is that I have to refill the water all the time. Cama uses seven decilitres of water for just one press of the button. That’s the equivalent of spraying a bottle of wine onto your behind. More specifically, you get this maths equation: once you’ve been for a number two four times, the tank is at zero. Cleaning the toilet is also annoying. You can remove the shower section that’s attached with adhesive strips but these stop being sticky and working after a while. That’s why you need to replace the strips every few months.
Verdict: do Cama
I’ll say it again: Cama is the gateway drug for shower toilets. It does exactly what it’s supposed to. The water tank and unsightly installation render it cumbersome and make me wish I had a more permanent solution. But that’s practically impossible in my rental flat, as I’d have to cough up for the installation and potentially also the dismantling myself. You know what they say. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
When I flew the family nest over 15 years ago, I suddenly had to cook for myself. But it wasn’t long until this necessity became a virtue. Today, rattling those pots and pans is a fundamental part of my life. I’m a true foodie and devour everything from junk food to star-awarded cuisine. Literally. I eat way too fast.