This Side of the Pond

When you think of Britain, the image that likely pops into your head includes our iconic red telephone boxes. Bright, cheerful and emblazoned with a golden crown, in 2015 these iconic kiosks were voted the greatest British design of all time. Astonishingly, that means they are more beloved than the double decker bus, Doc Marten boots and even our own national flag.

Phone booths may have gone the way of the dinosaur in these times of a communication device tucked into every purse and pocket, but you’ll still find them dotting the landscape across my nation. But these days, you’re as likely to find a museum or a library inside as you are an actual telephone.

The first of the red phone boxes was introduced about a century ago, and since then they’ve become one of the enduring symbols of Britishness. Even today, there are 10,000 of the things left in the UK alone (of which about 7000 still actually work), and you’ll also find them across the mainland and as far afield as Malta, Gibraltar and even Bermuda.

There’s even a few in the U.S., such as the one outside the embassy in Washington, D.C. and a few on the University of Oklahoma campus and in various towns across several states. But nobody needs them to make a phone call any more, so their future is looking bleak.

Not to worry – my people are nothing if not innovative. We’ve come up with a way to repurpose our phone booths and ensure they remain part of their communities for the foreseeable future.

Since 2008, British Telecom has been selling off its redundant phone boxes for just £1 through its Adopt a Kiosk scheme. For just a dollar fifty, you can do as you please with your little red box.

So far, 6600 phone boxes have found a loving home and BT announced this week that 4000 more are being made available. And if you’re wondering why anyone would bother, let me reassure you that they’ve already been put to some imaginative uses.

For example, in Cheltenham, ten phone booths have been placed side by side next to the Wilson Art Gallery and Museum. Nine are used as single-occupancy art galleries, such as one that went along with an exhibition in the main museum last year called The Order of Things. The first exhibition was called “300 Years a Spa” and each booth featured a well-known historical figure from the city’s past.

The Community Heartbeat Trust has meanwhile taken ownership of about 800 of the old boxes and installed defibrillators in them to make life-saving equipment more accessible in case of emergency. “Kiosks are historically at the center of the community, and thus great locations,” said Martin Fagan of the charity in a statement it’s difficult to argue with.

A little town in Scotland is meanwhile hoping to snag the world record for the smallest pub with its adopted phone booth. Fittingly titled “The Wee Pub,” it’s three feet wide and contains a tiny table and shelf and enough room for two or three people (depending on relative rate of skinniness) to stand inside.

It seems the idea is to attract tourists, which is probably for the best. I can’t imagine the locals thinking of it as a roaring good time at the weekend, although they might be tempted to give it a go for the sake of the free gin.

The owner claims he’s also used it to host the world’s smallest music concert, in which three musicians from a band called Jimmy’s Balloon clambered inside and played a song. No word on how much of the gin was left when they made their way back out.

At the other end of the nation, in Devon, you’ll find the world’s smallest night club. It contains its own music system, glitter ball and lighting and plays appropriate music including “Telephone Line” by Electric Light Orchestra and “Hanging on the Telephone” by Blondie.

You can pay £1 to listen to a tune and the proceeds go to a local charity. The phone box stole the world record from Club 28, also in the UK, which could hold a maximum of seven people. The new record holder can fit two people at a push, but not if you’re a particularly lively dancer.

In East Yorkshire, you’ll find a red phone box with a bicycle repair stop inside, featuring everything from a tire pump to replacement bicycle parts. What makes this idea even more sensible is that the town is along the route for The Way of the Roses, a national long-distance cycling challenge stretching for 170 miles.

Some have been used as informational kiosks, notice boards or history lessons about the local area, while one in East Lothian has been repurposed as a floral planter. A fair few of the old boxes have been turned into mini libraries or book exchanges, some of them for adults and others for littler readers.

Not all of the libraries have been a roaring success. For instance, in the county next door to my home, someone thought it would be funny to leave erotic novels on the shelves.

Authorities primly described the “racy romances” as “salacious” and insisted this was not a laughing matter. The chairman of the parish council made the ominous statement to the BBC that, “They know who it is in the village and they aren’t very well thought of.”

I’ll admit that some of these options are more whimsical than others, but just think of the possibilities. Technology is not a sentimental beast, so it warms my cockles to know the familiar crimson sight won’t be disappearing any time soon. I’m certain I’d be an excellent adoptive parent to a phone booth; now I just need to find a way to slip one into my hand luggage.