I have done some odd things in the service of this blog. But having been a newspaperman for many years, I'm over embarrassment. I'm all about getting the story.
Still I felt more than a little creepy getting the art for this post. I also worried that there was more than a slight chance of arrest, or at least interrogation by law enforcement. Here I was, after all, at about 6 a.m. on a Saturday morning taking pictures of a public toilet.
In my experience public toilets - especially over the weekends - are the purview of the drug addled, the desperate, or those seeking illicit or fleeting company. They're called bogs in Glasgow for a reason. And here was I, in shorts and what my children call my wollen mugger's hat - I was going for a run - loitering outside the public facilities with a camera in hand.
That's not a good look, right?
But the point of my interest was that this toilet was exactly the opposite of my past experiences. The public toilets, as I have already written, are quite remarkable in this country, which is why I have, er, remarked on them.
Once inside I pressed the lock button. A voice spoke to me, informing me very politely that I had 10 minutes. I half expected him - he sounded like a DJ on a Midwestern Country Music radio station - to ask me to "take a seat."
Then music began. Not country. Not rock and roll. But a soothing Jazz number. There I was, in a sheltered, nice-smelling little chamber with my own private entertainment playing over the speakers. It was rather nice. It could, in fact, cause people - people, not me - to linger. I had no idea what sort of alarm bells or other unpleasantness would occur should I outstay my 10-minute welcome. A parking ticket? An illegal dumping citation?
I left, but happy. It really is the small things in life that make everything else a little easier to bear. Little touches of civilization are pleasing.
That feeling has past now, and I accept that anyone who wishes to call me bizarre after reading this is free to do so. I just felt you should know - again - that New Zealand has bloody fine public toilets. And it is, after all, just about the story.