No matter what sort of RV you travel in, everyone who aspires to be completely self-contained must, at some point, engage in the ritual of the toilet dump.

In Australia, the most popular waste storage system for motorhomes and campervans are small removable box cassettes that can be removed for emptying via an access door on the outside of the vehicle. They generally will last two people a few days of regular usage (although results will vary depending on variables such as alcohol intake and curry consumption) before they require emptying.

Once emptied, a small amount of water is added and then a pellet containing an enzyme that breaks down all the solids ( including the toilet paper) as well as adding a slightly more socially acceptable colouring and aroma.

The result is a sort of browny-blue or browny-green lumpy broth that smells of violets or perhaps lavendar, with a faint under-tone of something decidedly nasty.

Luckily the whole system is pretty easy to use. Almost foolproof.

Many of these toilet cassettes have wheels and an extendable handle a so they can be easily transported to the nearest dump station once removed.

All holiday parks have at least one dump station. They usually have a distinct blue lid that lifts to reveal a wide, funnelled drain. All designed by quantum physicists to supposedly minimise aesthetic distress and backsplash.
Next to the dump point is a water hose for washing the whole thing clean after the dump has been executed.

There seem to be several different approaches to this activity. Some handle it as a tense, secretive, covert operation, best performed at dusk…whilst others strut their cassetes behind them like shopping trollies, sloshing and ratteling up and down the park pavements. These folk aproach excrement removal routines with relaxed communal nonchelance.

After 35 years as a nurse, I find the idea of wheeling 3 days worth of our combined fecal & urinary expenditure pulled behind me over uneven, bumpy terrain, fraught with danger.

So. Even though it tends to get a little heavy on longer walks to the dump station, you will find me carrying the whole box and dice held out in front of me. With due respect.
Much the same way I would carry one of the thousands of brimming bedpans that I have transported from bed to sluice over the duration of my career.
You see, transporting large containers of piss and poo with an almost gyroscopic levelling precision and the quiet, nothing-to-see-here stealth of a ninja comes almost second nature to me.