Women’s, C+ grade
Appearance: These loos are in the most picturesque spot imaginable. They’re in the middle of Cromwell’s historic quarter, right beside a lake. The surrounds really got my hopes up for some classy rich-tourist toilets. Alas, it was not to be. Inside was like a school camp toilet from 1983. But do look at this view.
Smell: With such noble ventilation, what smell?
Paper: Industrial bog roll.
Flush: Fine, you just don’t want to touch anything, or sit on that seat.
Washing: This is where it really gets interesting. Think that’s normal pink ooze in that soap dispenser? I’m not so sure. It smelled so delightful, I can only assume their soap stockist was the nearby purveyors of luxury smellies, the Tent House, and it was a cheap trick designed to entice you their way. It almost worked.
Best: The best-smelling soap I’ve smelled in a low grade public loo.
Worst: The hand dryer didn’t work, and this place was actually verging on creepy – would you want to walk through this creaky, darkened door?