Blimey, that takes me back. Right, you're asking about getting the damp out of the loo, aren't you? Properly sizing and placing that whirring little box in the ceiling… it’s one of those things you don't think about until you're staring at a patch of black mould in the corner, thinking, "Well, that's a bit grim."
I remember my first flat in Hackney, must've been… 2015? Lovely place, high ceilings, gorgeous cornices. But the bathroom? No window, and the previous owner had slapped in one of those feeble, whisper-quiet fans you could barely hear. Thought it was a win at first—so discreet! Fast forward three months, and the wallpaper near the shower was starting to peel at the seams. The air always felt thick, like a warm towel hanging around your shoulders even hours after a bath. That's when I learned the hard way: a quiet fan is often a useless fan.
So, sizing. It’s not about guesswork, really. You need to think about the room's volume—how much air is in there—and how quickly you want to swap it out. They measure these things in CFM, cubic feet per minute. For a basic loo, a rough rule of thumb is at least 1 CFM per square foot of floor space. But that's just the start! If you've got a proper power shower that turns the room into a steam room (like my mate Dave's in Bristol—you can't see the mirror for ten minutes after he's done), you need to account for that. Add 50 CFM for each shower head, seriously. And if you've got a jetted tub? Oh, that's a whole other story. My aunt in Cheltenham had one, and the ceiling above it went a funny speckled colour within a year because the fan was just… dainty. Completely overwhelmed.
Now, where to put the thing. This is where most DIYers go wrong, bless 'em. You can't just stick it right above the shower and call it a day. The steam rises, sure, but then it hits the ceiling and spreads out like a mushroom cloud. If the extractor point is directly in the shower stream, it'll suck up the wettest air, but miss all the moisture condensing on the colder walls and the mirror across the room. The trick is to position it between the shower and the door, or near the bath, but away from the immediate steam plume. You want it to catch the humid air as it travels. And for heaven's sake, make sure it vents to the outside, not just into your attic! I've seen that too many times. All you're doing is moving your damp problem from the bathroom to the rafters, and then you get rotten timbers and a nasty surprise during the next survey.
Oh, and here's a nugget you won't find in every manual: the fan's grille. Those plastic slats? They get grim. A film of dust and soap scum builds up and chokes the airflow without you even noticing. I make a point of giving mine a proper wipe-down every time I clean the bathroom—takes two seconds, but it keeps it breathing right.
At the end of the day, it’s about matching the tool to the job. Don't buy a decorative, silent model if your bathroom is a humid box. Get one that sounds like it means business. That low hum while you're brushing your teeth? That's the sound of a dry, healthy room. Trust me, your future self—the one not scraping mould off silicone sealant—will thank you for it.
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