A hunt is on for Ireland's top toilet. A contest for the worst might be more popular, says Frank McNally
The organisers of a search to find Ireland's best public toilet admit that their competition is a leap of faith. The number of functioning public toilets left in the State appears to be a mystery, even to the Department of the Environment, which refers queries on the subject to the individual local authorities. But the experience of Dublin is not encouraging.
The city once had a public convenience in every major suburb, many of them dating from Victorian and Edwardian times. That was before drug-taking, vandalism, and a range of physical activities for which the facilities were not originally intended saw them all closed over the past 15 years. Apart from parks - not the Council's responsibility - the city is now served by a grand total of two toilets; both of them APCs (automatic public conveniences) provided and maintained by the French company JC Decaux.
More and more town councils are closing their old toilets. Decaux though currently operates 62 APCs in the Republic, with anti-loitering features including automatic door-opening after 20 minutes. The toilets are self-cleaning and - especially in the case of the latest model, the "Universal Superloo" - designed as street furniture rather than things to be hidden away. Councils are happy to pay leases of up to €26,000 per annum, but even this French solution to an Irish problem has its limits.
Two of the earlier models on Dublin's Burgh Quay were quickly closed, and now stand as unplanned monuments to the city's social problems.
Of the toilets that remain open, a competition to find the worst might attract more entries; if only because the worst toilets - like the one in the film Trainspotting - leave a deeper impression on the memory.
Yet the Pharmacia Corporation is hoping that sufficient numbers of people have had sufficiently pleasant experiences to nominate "Ireland's Top Toilet". And together with the Association of Municipal Authorities, it promises €2,000, glory and a plaque to the best entry submitted by the closing date of September 16th.
Ireland's experience with public conveniences dates from the 1880s, when concerns about "street fouling" in Dublin reached a height. City Council debating records from 1881 note that the use of the words "urinal" and "latrine" was quickly replaced by the more polite - and, crucially, French - "Chalets de Nécessité". And while never a legal obligation, provision of such chalets was to become a necessity for any self-respecting town during the 20th century.
As with the advance, however, Ireland's latter-day retreat from bricks-and-mortar toilet provision is mirroring that of our former colonial masters. Britain celebrated the 150th anniversary of its first public convenience recently with a model dressed as Britannia spending a giant penny at the site in London's Fleet Street. The event was necessarily symbolic, in every sense, because the toilet is no longer in use. Once one of the glories of the empire, the British public convenience is fast disappearing, with almost half of them closed in the last decade, as local authorities cut costs and cash in on their prime-location property values.
Britain has had a "Loo of the Year" awards scheme since 1987, run by the British Toilet Association (there really is one). But the incentive has not arrested the decline. The BTA's director laments that Britain is "becoming a third-world country in toileting", and that as a consequence, street urination has reached "medieval proportions". One victim of the latter trend is the National Gallery on London's Trafalgar Square, where erosion of the walls by uric acid - the locality is a gathering point for drinkers awaiting night buses - is now worrying the authorities.
"Wet spots", is the term given to such areas by Westminster Council, which is following the Dutch lead by installing telescopic urinals - invisible by day, but rising out of the footpath on weekend nights. Despite having its own damp spots to deal with, Dublin Corporation has no such plans yet.
In stark contrast with Ireland and Britain, Asia is currently undergoing something of a public toilet revolution. The World Toilet Organisation (there really is one), which is based in Singapore and hosts global summits on the issue, is heavily dominated by Asian countries. Korea, Japan, Hong Kong and Malaysia are among the most enthusiastic members.
The city of Suwon, where Ireland played Spain in the World Cup, now promotes itself as having the "world's most beautiful public toilets". Local preoccupation with the issue is said to date from 1996 when, as Korea prepared to co-host the 2002 tournament, the mayor was embarrassed by the state of his public conveniences. Six years and much investment later, Suwon now offers tours of its toilets, which as well as serving their primary function are described as "spaces for culture and music" and have different themes, such as "the harmonious joining of nature and mankind".
The Top Toilets competition is unlikely to inspire such enthusiasm here. But Pharmacia says its primary aim is to raise consciousness about bladder control problems, which the company believes are far more common than admitted, and which make the location of the nearest public toilet a very important issue to those affected. For such people, the company adds, clean and accessible public toilets are "a vital part of daily life".
A British researcher into the decline of the public convenience, Dr Clara Greed, goes further, claiming access to a public toilet is a "fundamental human right". She also argues that the closure of toilets discriminates, particularly against women, who are traditionally under-provided for in the first place.
Someone who might have agreed with her was the writer Flann O'Brien. In The Hard Life, his character Mr Collopy mounts a fierce campaign to force the Corporation into providing women with public conveniences, disguised as trams. Less satirically, James Joyce also did his bit to break down the taboos surrounding bodily functions. The plaques that litter Dublin's pavements with quotations from Ulysses include one outside a toilet near Trinity College, where he notes approvingly the location of a statue to Thomas Moore, composer of The Meeting of the Waters.
The quip falls a bit flat now that the associated public convenience is closed. But the organisers of the Top Toilets competition are anxious to show that, in more senses than one, the issue is no longer a joke.
For more information about the competition, contact Jane O'Dwyer at 01-6789333 or jane.o'dwyer@edelman.com