After yesterday's post, you probably knew this was coming! Yes, this is the interior of the Victorian-era West End Lane Public Conveniences -- specifically, the men's room. I walked over there after work and found it open and accessible.
The historical listing mentions the red-and-black tile floor, as well as...
...the ornate ventilation grills...
...and the interior arched doorways. There also appears to be some kind of skylight, but it's been painted or covered over.
There's a bank of four or five full-length urinals which aren't in great shape. They were, however, made by...
...which seems pretty swanky.
There are three toilet cubicles with complete walls and green wooden doors, like three closets side by side. (Which I suppose is where the term "water closet" comes from.) Only one of them was open, and the toilet didn't look like an original fixture (although I am hardly an expert) so I'll spare you a photograph. Aren't you lucky?
Here's the women's room entrance, with its equally ornate metal railings.
So yes, here I am, touring Victorian restrooms so you don't have to. Never say I don't go to great lengths to provide a fascinating blog post!
Incidentally, some of you commented yesterday about my use of the term "restroom." I must admit, if I opt for a euphemistic phrase for a place to relieve oneself, that's the word I go for. Maybe it's an American thing. I realize there's no resting involved, although as Ellen pointed out, some facilities (particularly fancy women's rooms) do have adjacent lounges with a couch or other furniture.
I also use the term "bathroom," although I suppose that's more accurate when it's also a room for bathing. Like some British people I casually say "loo," which I think is a great word. There's also "toilet," but to me a toilet is more the fixture itself than the room in which it resides. And there's always the very European "water closet" or "WC" (which I invariably pronounce "vay say," in the French style, a lasting after-effect of my time in Morocco). So much terminology!