Many years ago and fresh out of university, I found myself in the Pompidou centre in Paris. I went primarily to laugh at the modern art, but instead had my first experience of future shock.

The centre's a mess. Its pipes are on the outside, making it architecturally weird, and presumably racking up the heating bills, but on the other hand allowing huge clean spaces full of pianos covered in grey felt and crushed saxaphones.

my main surprise, though, was washing my hands after going to the toilet.

This was the late eighties and I approached the sink expecting a knob to turn the tap on, only to find a bowl and a single spigot. There was no sign of a control anywhere.
I tried hitting the wall, in case it held a hidden button; then I tried pressing each of the floor tiles. Nothing.
A man appeared from a cubicle and did the same thing. After a moment, he began thumping the tap in the hope of getting a flow of water. Still nothing. Eventually, he gave up in disgust.
I carried on trying to work it out. I could see the tap functioned because the sink was wet, and I had a physics degree I still remembered. How hard could it be?
Ten minutes later I was still trying when another man arrived. Without a word, he placed his hands under the tap.
Activated by a single sensor, water poured out.