It's crass to mention the plumbing in someone else's country, but since we're all friends around this table and we know that on one side of the pond there's castle envy while on the other they have washing machines that take five days to wash one pair of smalls...so it's all good. This is just the way things are.
Thus, a short history of western plumbing, take two (the first was lost to web mail comma unknown error).
Rome, quite late...cue the Goths..."Oi, Goths, you're on."
Goth One: "Crikey, they've got en suite."
(Translation, for those of you from Carthage or somewhere still smoldering, "The bastards have got a toilet and a shower within walking distance of the bed."
Years pass, by the thousand (those of you in America, imagine the length of a football field and multiply by a hundred, and add some. You'll have the concept.) En suite somehow got lost. Cue the Lost Generation. "Oi, Lost Generation, you're on."
Chum of Hemingway, "The toilets also rise."
With World Wars on their hands, but wanting to seem hospitable, Europeans are naturally very sympathetic to these complaints and make every effort to accommodate the needs of their visitors, but, well...[insert Gallic shrug here].
Come the New Millenium the word goes out, in German, "Immediately mann muss somezink about ze plumbink south of zum latitudes do."
Cue the anonymous daring Dutch or possibly Danish designer.
A.D or D. designer, "What if we made the shower impossibly small? How cool would that be?"
Cue the cheerful Cockney, "Depends on weavver you wonna knock the knob wiv your elbow, dunnit?"
After the International Union of Men Whose Trousers Don't Cover the Crack (IMWTDCC) was assuaged with promises of extra time in Las Vegas and Cabo, nothing stood in the way and so, Operation Renew En Suite was completed.