I’ll be honest with you: our bathtub sat empty for almost four years. The previous owners left a gorgeous freestanding tub, and for a while I kept it because it felt wrong to remove something so “luxurious.” Meanwhile I showered every single morning in a cramped 80-centimeter cubicle tucked in the corner. One winter, after slipping on the bathmat climbing out of the tub-with-shower-attachment setup for the hundredth time, I snapped. We tore the tub out, tiled the whole 2-by-3-meter space wall to wall, and I have not missed that tub for a single day. My mornings are calmer, my bathroom finally works, and the whole thing cost less than I expected. Here are the ten ideas I’d actually recommend to anyone going shower-only — the ones that made a real difference in my flat, and the mistakes I’d rather you skip.
1. Walk-In Glass Showers
When I first told my husband I wanted a walk-in glass shower, he asked where the door was. That’s the whole point — there isn’t one. You just step in. We went with a single fixed frameless panel, 90 centimeters wide, from a local Munich glass fitter, and it set us back about 420 euros installed. Worth every cent. The bathroom instantly looked twice as big because there was no longer a frame cutting the room in half. One thing I got wrong the first time: I skipped the second glass side and angled the showerhead so the spray bounces off the wall. Cold lesson learned — water travels further than you think, and our bathmat became a permanent sponge. We added a small side panel later and the puddle problem vanished. If your shower sits on an exterior wall, frameless glass also keeps the light from the window moving through the room, which matters a lot in a north-facing flat like mine. Clean the glass with a cheap squeegee after every shower and skip the pricey “hydrophobic coatings” — mine peeled within a year, and the squeegee does a better job anyway.
2. Rainfall Showers with Dual Heads
A rainfall head is the closest thing to showering under a waterfall that plumbing allows, and I’m saying that as someone who was perfectly fine with a basic hand shower for a decade. We mounted a 30-centimeter ceiling head directly overhead and kept a handheld on a slider bar on the side wall — the combination is the important part, not the size of the rain head. I rinse long hair with the handheld, then stand under the rain head for the actual relaxing part. About the water pressure: our Altbau has decent pressure, but if yours is weak, a giant rain head just drizzles. Ask your plumber to measure the flow rate before you order anything bigger than 25 centimeters. One genuinely practical detail I love: with two heads we never fight over temperature anymore, since I take mine slightly warmer than my husband. The diverter valve we installed runs both heads at once, and honestly we rarely do — but having the choice costs almost nothing extra at installation time and feels luxurious every time you use it.
3. Open Concept Showers (Wet Rooms)
This was the scariest decision we made — no tray, no threshold, just the bathroom floor sloping gently to a linear drain. I spent a full week convinced we’d flood the flat. Two years in, the only water outside the shower zone was the time I left the handheld sprayer dangling toward the door while my back was turned. Rookie mistake, not a design flaw. The secret is the slope: ours drops about 2 centimeters over the shower’s 1.4 meters, tiled with small-format porcelain so the tiler could follow the gradient without ugly cuts. Large tiles refuse to bend around slopes — that’s why small ones matter here. A wet room also solved a problem I hadn’t anticipated: cleaning. There’s no grout ring around a shower tray, no silicone edge collecting mildew. I squeegee the floor toward the drain in about forty seconds after showering. Our tile setter charged roughly 60 euros per square meter for the extra waterproofing membrane under everything, which felt like a lot until I realized it’s what stands between us and a very angry downstairs neighbor.
4. Shower with Skylight or Natural Light
Our shower sits under the roof window and I still can’t get over the difference it makes. Showering in actual daylight — rain drumming on the skylight in October, pale sun in February — changed the whole mood of the bathroom more than any tile ever could. Practical notes though: we installed a frosted skylight, not clear, because the neighbors’ bedroom window faces ours and I value my privacy. Condensation was a real concern, so we put the vent right above the shower instead of the standard spot by the door. The installer told me a roof skylight runs 800 to 1,200 euros with labor in Munich, which is why I’d honestly suggest starting with a brighter strategy if that’s too steep — a larger bathroom window, lighter tiles, or even a sun-tunnel. But if you’re renovating anyway and the roof is accessible, do it. The one maintenance quirk: clean the skylight glass twice a year, because mineral spots show up fast when the sun hits them at eye level every morning. My husband thought it was overkill until the first morning he showered under actual falling snow visible through the glass. He doesn’t call it overkill anymore.
5. Luxury Tile & Accent Walls
Here’s what my tiler told me on day one, and I repeat it to everyone: spend your tile budget on ONE wall and keep the rest simple. We did that — the shower back wall is a deep green zellige, hand-cut with all those imperfect edges, and the other three walls are plain warm-white 30-by-60 porcelain that cost about 25 euros per square meter. The green wall looks like a boutique hotel; the rest of the bathroom cost less than my washing machine. If you’re doing an accent wall yourself, measure twice: zellige tiles vary slightly in thickness, so the wall needs an extra-flat base coat or the edges cast little shadows — beautiful, but only if intentional. I also learned to order 15 percent more than the calculator says, not the standard 10, because hand-cut tiles crack more and you want matching dye lots. We ran out 40 centimeters short on the top row and the replacement batch was a slightly different green. It’s above eye level so I can live with it, but every time I look up I see it. One accent wall, done properly, beats expensive tile everywhere.
6. Built-In Benches & Niches
The bench was my husband’s idea and I rolled my eyes at it. Now I sit on it every single morning while the water warms up, and I shave my legs sitting down like a civilized person. Ours is a floating corner bench, 40 by 40 centimeters, tiled to match the wall — built during the renovation, not bolted on after. If you’re building one, the height matters more than you’d think: around 45 centimeters works for sitting and shaving; taller ones make your feet dangle. The niche gets equal billing though. We carved two niches into the stud wall between the shower and the bedroom — one at my shoulder height, one at his — each about 30 centimeters wide, tiled with the green accent tile from the feature wall. No more bottles wobbling on the floor. A word of warning from my plumber: plan niches before the waterproofing goes in, not after, because cutting them later means redoing the membrane and nobody wants to pay for that twice. We did, and we paid for it. Once.
7. Steam Showers for Spa Luxury
I will be completely upfront: I thought steam showers were a gimmick for hotels until my friend Sarah installed one in her Neubau flat. Then I sat in her steam shower for twenty minutes on a February evening and immediately wanted one. We didn’t retrofit ours — the budget wasn’t there — but I researched it properly enough to tell you exactly what it takes. You need a fully enclosed shower (a steam canopy or glass door to the ceiling), a steam generator installed nearby (under the vanity works), a sloped ceiling or a dome so condensation doesn’t drip on your head, and proper ventilation so you don’t steam the entire flat. The generator alone runs roughly 1,000 to 2,500 euros plus installation. Health-wise, the steam is genuinely wonderful for stuffy winter noses and tired muscles after a long run. But — and this matters in older buildings — every seal has to be perfect, because steam finds leaks that water never would. Sarah’s only regret is not sizing the generator up; an undersized one takes ages to get going and defeats the whole point.
8. Industrial-Style Showers
This one isn’t my bathroom — ours is warm neutrals and green tile — but I helped my brother do his in a former factory loft in Sendling, so I know it from the trenches. The look is black-framed glass, exposed pipe fittings, dark grout against white subway tiles, and a concrete-look porcelain floor. The trick to making it feel designed instead of unfinished is restraint: pick two industrial elements, not five. We did the black-framed partition and matte black fixtures, then warmed it up with a teak bench and a plain cotton curtain for the lower half of the window. Without the wood it would have felt like showering in a factory canteen. Black grout looks fantastic but shows soap scum more honestly than any other color, so my brother squeegees the walls every other shower — two minutes, not a big deal, but worth knowing. The black-framed partition cost him noticeably less than frameless glass, which surprised us both. If you love the look and rent, swap the fixtures to matte black yourself — a set of decent taps costs around 150 euros and you take it with you when you leave.
9. Curbless Walk-In Showers
Mine is technically a wet room, but my mother-in-law’s shower is truly curbless — same level as the bathroom floor, a hairline linear drain you barely notice — and at 74 she says it’s the best thing about her bathroom. That’s the part nobody talks about in design magazines: curbless is future-proofing. No step to trip over, wheelchair-friendly if you ever need it, and honestly just elegant. The installation is fiddly though. The subfloor in her flat had to be lowered by about 5 centimeters to fit the sloped tray, and on a concrete slab floor that means either raising the whole bathroom or getting creative. Her contractor raised the bathroom floor by 4 centimeters and hid the transition at the doorway with a neat brass strip. If you’re building from scratch or renovating a timber-floor bathroom like ours was, it’s straightforward. If you’re retrofitting on slab with low ceilings, get a contractor quote before falling in love with the idea. Also: curbless needs the drain to be long enough — her 70-centimeter linear drain handles both showerheads running at once without pooling, which a small point drain couldn’t.
10. Mood Lighting & Smart Showers
I drew the line at a shower I have to talk to — saying “start shower” to a speaker while half asleep feels like a dystopia to me. But lighting? Lighting I will defend to the end. We put a dimmable recessed light directly over the shower on its own switch, and a cheap waterproof LED strip (about 25 euros from the hardware store) tucked behind a little aluminum channel under the bench. Mornings it’s bright and cool; evenings I turn the main light off and it’s just the warm glow under the bench while the water runs. It cost almost nothing and it makes an ordinary Tuesday shower feel intentional. What I deliberately skipped: the digital temperature display (ours is a thermostatic mixer, you set it once and it stays), the color-changing chromotherapy (pretty in brochures, forgotten in a week), and the Bluetooth speaker (my phone in a dry corner plays the same podcast for free). My honest advice is to wire one extra switch and one spare outlet near the vanity during any renovation. You’ll use the light daily; the smart gadgets mostly end up as buttons nobody presses after month two.
Conclusion
Four years ago I defended our bathtub like it was a family member, and now I’d pick the shower-only bathroom over it every time. Pick one or two of these ideas that fit your budget and your actual mornings — not your dream mornings — and build around them. My bathroom isn’t big and it isn’t fancy; it just works for the people who live in it, which is more than I ever said about the tub I was keeping for show. I’d rather hear about yours: tell me you’re ditching the tub too.