Public loos are one of life’s joys – Porthcawl’s anti-sex toilets are ruining the fun for everyone
I’m sure Porthcawl could spend its money elsewhere, maybe on something that didn’t deter rough sleepers?
One of the weirdly depressing stories in a week stuffed with weirdly depressing stories was the plans for “anti-sex loos“ (that would also deter rough sleeping) in the Welsh seaside town of Porthcawl.
According to the original BBC story, £170,000 was to be spent installing a public convenience, which, thanks to “weight” and “violent movement” sensors would trigger an alarm, water jets and automatic door-opening should any untoward shenanigans be suspected. It sounded like a recipe for clumsy fat man humiliation to me. What about those who have to go into cubicles two at a time in order to help those less able to help themselves? It’s very Big Brother.
Thankfully, the council saw sense after the backlash, later saying the planning application was “submitted in error”. Anyway, I’m sure Porthcawl could spend its money elsewhere, maybe on something that didn’t deter rough sleepers thanks to its state of the art alarm, lighting and heating cut-off features? Perhaps they could simply splash out some really nice friendly loos that got regularly cleaned and sported a bunch of fresh flowers on the windowsill?
Toilets have always been important, especially to women. Ever since school they have been a place to flock en mass and discuss urgent issues such as periods and love bites. They are confessionals with extra plumbing, a sanctuary in which to hide now and again when you need to cry in private.
Years ago when I did the Edinburgh festival and would occasionally (often) get overwhelmed, there were some loos at The Pleasance theatre which no-one else seemed to know about and I would sneak in there to howl away my neurosis. A good lavatory with a sturdy lockable door and plenty of loo paper for mopping up tears is a thing of joy.
I also remember being a drama student in Manchester and frequenting nightclubs where I’d spend just as much time in the toilets swigging from a contraband bottle of vodka as I did on the dance floor. After all, nightclub loos are where all the real action is. This is where true friendships are tested as lipsticks and mascaras are shared, tampons “lent” and “hair holding back duty” supplied while puking takes place.
I love a good loo. Once on a trip to Miami I spent a glorious morning cruising down the fabulous Art Deco strip nipping into all the fancy hotels and checking out their facilities. You can tell a great deal about a place by its conveniences. Personally, I like to check out the loos before I order food anywhere, because if a restaurant can’t keep their public lavs clean then what kind of state is the kitchen going to be in?
Thanks to the world of Instagram some loos up and down the country have become destinations in themselves. I like the egg-shaped shiny-white futuristic pods at Sketch in the West End, which turn a call of nature into just that, as some of the pods tweet bird song for the duration of your visit. Mind you, others are wired up to play what sounds like a massive bullfrog croaking, which doesn’t half take you by surprise as you sit down.
If you fancy something a bit more retro and chintzy the ladies’ powder room at the notorious nightclub Annabel’s is a haven of floral wallpaper, pink units and gold swan tap fittings – it even has little velvet covered stools on which to sit and gossip about your playboy boyfriend and the length of his yacht.
Meanwhile up in Hull, Victoria Pier’s Grade II-listed Edwardian public toilet has made it to number 483 in Lonely Planets top 500 things to do in the UK, and why not? A quick Google of the country’s most exciting bathrooms will give you a guide to loos with stunning views including Frank’s Café in Peckham, which, situated on the tenth floor of an ex-multi story car park, offers a view of South London to rival anything you might see on the London Eye. Obviously, for those with more cash to burn, then the loo view from the Shard is pretty impressive too.
Since toilet charges at all major Network Rail train stations were scrapped in April (whoop), if I am going to spend a penny these days I’m going to do it in style and visit Blenheim palace where an 18-carat gold lavatory has been installed for visitors on a pre-booked strict three minute time limit! How they intend to implement this time limit I’m not sure, but I can’t imagine Blenheim Palace water jetting visitors who outstay their welcome.
The fully plumbed in art work is by the Italian conceptual artist Maurizio Cattelan and comes over a hundred years after Duchamp’s infamous Fountain urinal, a replica of which can be viewed at Tate Modern, whose own loos can get a little scruffy at times.
So whilst I shan’t be tempted down to Porthcawl for their futuristic unfriendly new loos, the idea of settling my ample cheeks on a solid gold khazi does appeal. But, if I’m paying top dollar, then that loo roll had better be pure cashmere.
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