Awash with indulgence

There are few delights so complete as the bathtub. Few pleasures to rival its exquisite slowness, its delicious idleness. But it appears that bathing is in decline. A decade ago, the average adult took nine baths a month. This has, according to the latest reports, now dwindled to a mere five. Eleven per cent of families have got rid of their bath.

Shower vs bath

The enemy, of course, is the shower. The shower is more environment-friendly — a five-minute shower can use a third of the water needed for a bath. (It is worth pointing out that a power shower can use more water than a bath in five minutes.)

But the rise of the shower has been relentless, a sort of upright army marching across the land, while the poor old bathtub has lain trembling in its wake. In 1970, a mere 5 per cent of homes had a shower today it is 80 per cent. Of course, the shower is a wonderful invention, a reinvigorating, life-affirming, brain-pummelling experience. But it is no bath.

The world's earliest-known bathtub was painted terracotta and dates back to 1700BC. It was found in the queen's apartments at the palace of Knossos in Crete and I think this perhaps helps to define the allure of the bath: Bathing is a queenly pursuit.

A remedy in a dip

And while the shower is vital, direct and pleasingly brisk, there is something ceremonial about bathing, something about it that seems to marry us with the human race. For many of us today, taking a bath retains something of a sense of ritual.

It is a remedy to all the bombardments of the modern world. It is one of the few times we get to be alone with our minds. A bath has stillness, softness, suppleness and I believe it brings these qualities to one's thoughts.

After all, Archimedes never exclaimed Eureka in the shower, now, did he?