Scents and sensibilities remain low on subway priority list
The smell hits you even on the platform and draws your eye away from the railing, with four mops draped over it, that leads down the subway tunnel.
Go round the corner and through the open door: inside, the six bowls are blocked up with you know what.
'Who wants to linger in a place like this?,' said Liu Qiang, dipping his hands beneath the tap after relieving himself and hurrying out.
'They have done no renovations here since the station opened in 1969. No-one can be bothered. The smell is awful.' Welcome to Nanlishi Road subway station, 100 metres below the main east-west thoroughfare in western Beijing, which is still waiting for the coming of the 'toilet revolution'.
On the platform, lady staff in blue-green uniforms are swabbing the floor with large mops.
Other are selling books, magazines and newspapers from a large stall.