The first – and last – time I tried this, it was a complete disaster. It was one of those flashes of inspiration (like using wire wool to clean the bugs welded to the windscreen) that seemed like a good idea at the time, but ended in failure.
First, you've got to wedge yourself into the shower cubicle (where you'll find that you can't bend over 90 degrees to do the low bits. Next, if you've got a dodgy shower, like we used to have, you'll be dodging the constant drip, drip threat of imminent electrocution from above. By far the most difficult aspect is the control of the machine itself. You fire it up and it whirs away smoothly at about a million rpm and all seems well. As soon as the tip of the drill touches the grout it jumps and thrashes away like a bucking broncho while you struggle to deploy the "off" switch. When the dust settles, you'll see that you've carved a zig zag pattern on the tiles all the way down. Not to be defeated, most blokes will then have another go, and another, just to prove to the observing wife that it CAN be done and it WAS a good idea. Before you know where you are, you have to stop due to inhalation of so much particulate grout that your lungs are clogged, the adjoining rooms look like a winter snowscape and the tiled area is totally ruined.
I'll spare you the details, but as a direct result of a "fifteen minute re-grout" one bank holiday Monday about 10 years ago, I had to then retile the en-suite room, replace the ensuite floor (floor boards, not joists as well, thankfully) and repaint the ceiling of the hallway below. An industrial vax managed to salvage the carpets and Mrs T didn't speak to me for a week.
Don't go there.
