Berlin | Venice: I am not making this up

We know these little horrors all too well, from sports events to any other mass gathering. Temporary “porta-potties” are absolutely great when you’re desperate and there is nothing else. That’s about the only great thing about them. Here large numbers of the typical “chemical toilets” are being unloaded a few steps beyond the finish line of the annual Venice Marathon. They are there for the obvious needs of thousands of runners just minutes after they arrive. And yet, there are none conveniently placed for the spectators. That seems wrong to me, now that I think about it.

But then again, useful as they are, it would deface the landscape to have them around all the time.

What if there were a public toilet permanently available? One that wasn’t a pungent plastic box? I wasn’t asking myself that question when I was crossing the canal in front of the Arsenal a few weeks ago, but then I saw this kiosk beside the Naval Museum. What ho, I thought. Do I see the letters WC?

I do indeed, and the red hints that it is being used. The experimental loo arrived on February 10, in the throes of Carnival, and installed most conveniently on the fondamenta along which many spectators heading to the show at the Arsenal were bound to be walking. That extra spritz or beer? Normally you would have had to plan ahead to deal with the result, because there are very few bars along the way (maybe you don’t know this yet, dear visitor, but you might soon). This seems very civilized. The kiosk will be here for two weeks, or till Feb. 24. Or perhaps Feb. 29. In any case, a very short time. Disclaimer: Hygien Venezia does not know me and I have no interest in being known by them. Just providing information here.

This is a simple tale composed of two parts. (A) What we need and (B) how hard it can be to obtain it because of (C) (my error, the tale has three parts) other people. To demonstrate I take the situation of the new experimental temporary chemical toilet (A) near the Arsenal and (C) the city of Venice, some city councillors of.

People need places to relieve themselves, we’ll start there. On the whole, visitors manage the situation by stopping at bars/cafe’s, buying something, and using the facilities. But sometimes bars/cafe’s are closed. Sometimes they are crowded. Sometimes the WC is mysteriously out of service. And sometimes the owners have to crack down on tourists who show up in groups of which one person buys a coffee and all the rest use the bathroom, as we call it in the US. Not made up. So one person is relieved, so to speak, and his or her nine friends have to start looking for a toilet somewhere else, or buy a coffee, which is clearly something they were hoping to avoid.

Impatient and drunk males at big gatherings at night have no problem at all: Find the nearest wall. Vertical structures exert an atavistic allure to men. Ladies, you’re on your own, as usual. But there are small side streets — I’m thinking of offshoots of Campo Santa Margherita — whose residents have been driven to install a gate to prevent revelers from using the street to resolve the situation.

Yes, this conveniently dark passageway was a public toilet, according to the public. Perfect, until the repulsed residents fought back with the gate.

At night these side streets seemed perfect for personal usage; I mean, nobody was using them to go anywhere. Except home, as it turned out. Dog poop is bad enough, but good grief, people. Note that there is a canal only a few steps farther along. Just, you know, saying.

Before there were gates there were these, possibly the first attempt at a public deterrent. A closer look at the lower area where the walls meet gives an idea of why this construction was installed. Useful, but only up to a point. My theory is that anyone who was sufficiently far gone wouldn’t mind (or notice) his shoes getting wet. There are many of these around (I don’t know who thought them up, or paid for them).

You might have thought that the little shrine (“capitello”) to Saint Anthony of Padua might have given the person in need the idea to find another corner. Evidently not.

But why are we talking about deterrents? Let’s get back to options for aiding those in need. There used to be plenty of *pissoirs* in Venice, or *vespasiani*, in Italian. The etymology of the name is simple: The Roman emperor Vespasian placed a tax on urine collection because the liquid’s ammonia was necessary for several activities, such as leather tanning. The Venetian vespasians were usually near an osteria, places where wine consumption carried consequences. This wall near the church of San Sebastiano bears its scars proudly.

Needs no explanation, it all seems pretty simple to me.

The vestigial water pipe. Typically the wall here was covered by a marble slab (more resistant than brick, by far) down which a stream of water constantly ran, and out the drain.

This is the little street leading to Lino’s family home (visible at the far end). The curve accommodated a *vespasiano* that was concealed by a slim wall open at both ends, hence no door, hence always available. Nobody thought anything of walking past its perfume a thousand times a day. Most osterias didn’t have their own toilets, so the public went in public. Unhappily for Lino’s oldest brother, his apartment was just above an osteria that did have a primitive toilet. Great for the customers, not great for the brother. He and his wife got used to it? Only up to a point. They kept the overlooking window closed. Especially in summer.

A small street flanking the Lutheran church at the Campo Santi Apostoli. On the wall supporting the abandoned mattress there are signs of the vespasiano that was. Lino remembers it, so we’re not talking about ancient history.

Maybe when you get bored with looking at palaces you could start looking for the remnants of these once-useful things. I mean the vespasiano, not the mattress. By the way, if people were cool with pissoirs all over town, what’s so bad about kiosks?

I’m referring to kiosks that look like the one by Hygien Venezia down by the Arsenal. You notice it has been designed to be accessible to people in wheelchairs. (There’s also a ramp at the door.) Electricity is supplied by a battery maintained by solar panels.

But the choice is not kiosks or nothing. There are permanent public loos in Venice. But there aren’t very many, their hours vary WIDELY — 8:00 AM to 8:30 PM is rational, so is 9:00 AM to 9:00 PM, but 11:00 AM to 4:30 PM or 10 AM – 7:30 PM is not. And they aren’t always open. The WC by the Piazza San Marco is scheduled to open at 9:30 AM, and when I passed by at a very reasonable 10:45 AM it was shut up tight. These hours undoubtedly reflect the convenience of the staff, and not the public. Or whether the Comune has paid the water bill?

In an attractive gesture of collaboration, the city has an app to guide you to the nearest public toilet. Perhaps it will be open, perhaps not, but at least you can say you found it.

A map of the not exactly numerous public toilets. I count ten here — none on the Giudecca, for unknown reasons, but the one at the cemetery is helpful. The ones strewn about the Maritime Zone are for the non-existent cruise passengers, so ignore them. But again — pardon my diatribe — there is no reason to publish such a cheerful and encouraging map if the public can’t be sure the loo will be open when it’s needed. The other day a friend of mine was in severe need on Sant’ Elena and both of the only two bars were closed. The doors of the so-cheerfully indicated city toilet were locked. This is not a happy memory. But as I say, it does look nice on the map.

The public WC at the foot of the Accademia Bridge. This is what a self-respecting public toilet should look like. Its most impressive feature? It’s open.

They’re doing work these days, heavy work with tools. I just hope you weren’t counting on using this facility. Zwingle’s Fifth Law: Do not count on things.

A curious sub-class of public toilets are Those That Were (and I don’t mean vespasiani). This building on the northwest corner of Campo San Polo was a public loo until some not-distant time in the past. Lino remembers it well, and it had the advantage of being in an extremely busy point of the city. So it could have been highly useful. But as you see, the need for the sketchy Euronet cash machines was greater. Sorry, I shouldn’t say “sketchy.” But I can say this: Independent cash providers such as Travelex, Euronet, Moneybox, Your Cash, Cardpoint, and Cashzone have high fees, higher than a bank ATM. Example: 15 euros on a 200-euro withdrawal. There are probably ten times more Euronet ATM’s than public toilets in Venice now. Priorities!

Back to the toilets. Once you know what this place used to be, you can easily make it out. Those high windows somehow give it away.

I decided to experiment and went looking for one of the city’s toilets last Saturday afternoon around 5:00 PM. I was near the Arsenal, and wondered where the large sign indicating a nearby loo might lead me. I didn’t need it, and what a good thing that turned out to be.

This very narrow and slightly ominous street is marked as the route to salvation. The Calle del Cagnoleto is right by the area on the Riva degli Schiavoni where the day-tripping tourist launches load and unload their passengers, so it would seem to be an ideal place for a rest stop, as we say in the US.

Yes, that happy arrow up there points toward relief. Take heart and forge ahead!

The street passes in front of the green doors (I was walking from right to left). You are looking for what transit engineers call “confirming signs.” But instead of repeating the sign you are familiar with, there is only a rectangle of stone saying “Alle Docce” (you frantically check for translation and find “To the showers.” Showers? Who wants showers?). There used to be an arrow, but any help that might have provided is long gone.

A few more steps onward and there is a small sign that gives you hope.

And the street opens up and you discover you have reached the “Comune di Venezia Docce Pubbliche.” City of Venice Public Showers. We’re looking for WC and we get docce (DAW-cheh).

Let us imagine that at this point I am now beginning to feel that this experience is less a trial run and more of a real run. Now what?

The Public Showers also include, as one has been supposing, public toilets. The green arrow on the front door, on the left, has pointed toward the right, so the entrance is one of those two doors. But I’ll never know, because as you see, the place was closed up tighter than a can of tuna. Five o’clock on Saturday afternoon. It’s the end of the road, and your choice now, as there are no bars in sight, is to turn around and hope to find a Plan B before crisis strikes, or figure out how to use the canal a few steps away. As to the showers, they are maintained by the Diocese of Venice to accommodate anyone who is without that option, either temporarily or permanently, and clean clothes are also available. This is praiseworthy and I have nothing but respect for this service. But about the WC……

But you can leave with the knowledge that, according to this very edifying sign, the areas that you cannot use at your moment of off-schedule need are paragons of ecologically sound cleanliness. I notice that hours are not even scribbled on a Post-It note. You know, it’s easy to inveigh against tourists, but I would recommend that one remember that tourists are also people. And this little five-minute exploration has not only disappointed and discouraged me but also seems ever so slightly insulting. “Fine, we’ll let you use our toilets, but only when it suits us.” Solution? There ought to be many, but the simplest would be the mere addition of the opening hours to the sign at the entrance to the street — the sign that lured me hopefully onward. That way, at least nobody with an important problem will waste precious time heading toward locked doors. I suggest this minimum concession if you’re not going to keep the facility open while the sun is still shining and there are plenty of tourists still around.

So to review: The options for needy travelers are: Resort to one of the numberless bars/cafes, when available either geographically or according to time of day; or public toilet, when available either geographically or according to time of day. Or wall. Or canal.

Let’s return to the kiosk. The Comune opened the public-toilet project for bids in 2019, with a budget of 5 million euros, and only one company submitted a proposal. Hygien Venezia was prepared to proceed, then the pandemic intervened. So now, three years later, the company has finally installed its creation for a two-week trial. Then all the reports and analyses and opinions and pros and cons will be thrown into a box and shaken (I’m making that up), and some decision will be made on installing the 20 more that the company is ready to place strategically around town.

Don’t assume that decision will inevitably be in the positive. This being Venice, some people have complained. From shops and hotels and other enterprises, some people have objected. The Nuova Venezia only referred to the protesters as “the categories.” What category? The Worshipful Company of Environmental Cleaners? (It exists, but not in Italy.)

Whatever the “categories” might be, eight city councilors have spoken up, expressing a desire to inquire of the mayor “on the basis of what information is it considered that Venice possessed the characteristics to manage the cleaning (removal of waste) of 28 chemical toilets.” It occurs to me that Hygien Venezia probably has foreseen the problem and the solution, and described the plan on the bid itself. I’ll bet that they will be able to provide answers as needed, without bothering the mayor.

Perhaps the NIMBY (Not In My Back Yard) phenomenon has arrived in Venice. There may well be those who do not wish to see one of these kiosks near their homes or places of business. I will grant you that the general lack of space here means that there is a risk that a new structure, however modest, could make the immediate area even more crowded. However, there are also campos and fondamentas that can boast of space. But let’s not quibble. Essentially, there seems to be an innate propensity to assume something new won’t work rather than consider ways in which in might perhaps be configured to work.

There is bound to be space for one of these kiosks at Campo Santa Margherita without jostling anybody too far to the side.

I’m going to ask the people who live here how they’d feel about having the kiosk in the campo.

In my view, this is another of the many situations in which Venice’s perplexity as to how to manage the city comes to the fore. Lots of real cities have public toilets in the streets. Paris comes to mind, obviously — if there’s a city with bars/cafe’s at every turn, that would be Paris, and yet there are 420 cubicles on the streets of the City of Light, used 3 million times a year. I grant that Parisian streets tend to be more spacious than your average calle. But the port of Piraeus has concise public toilets, as do Madrid, and Oslo, and Berlin, and so on. Or at the very least, reorganize the public toilets in Venice with rational hours and doors that can be opened.

“The categories” want tourists, and then people grumble at how demanding those tourists can be. It seems to me that Venice might occasionally consider dismounting from its high horse on certain issues. Give the horse a rest.

natural functions