A loo with a view: The world's most scenic lavatories

The legacy of the lavatory is riddled with aliases and euphemisms. Our medieval forefathers answered their calls of nature from the necessarium, while their Tudor offspring favoured the privy. My grandmother displayed symptoms of a compulsive shopper with the consistent urge to "spend a penny". And quite why my GCSE English teacher felt the need to "powder her nose" during a passage from The Mayor of Casterbridge had me in a constant state of perplexity. Clearly, for a long time, a trip to the water closet was something to be endured and glossed over, and never to be reported; and the taboo of the loo endures.

Yet, before the invention of the flush toilet, which could have been any time between the 13th and the 18th century – depending on whose history you believe – disposing of human waste was a daily struggle. A crucial factor in the prevention of spreading diseases, and thus a basic requirement for the advancement of high-density communities, the modern loo has become a ubiquitous presence in developed society, and as a consequence, it is widely ignored. Its service, furthermore, has been vetoed from civilised conversation.

Perhaps as a result, the WC is rarely an awe-inspiring space. The most one can expect, by my own experience, is a lively debate on the back of the cubicle door, or perhaps an Italian language course being played out over the sound system (in two separate venues I've experienced this – am I alone?). And in such cases one might be awe-inspired for all the wrong reasons: trite debate on the possibility of love and fidelity, accompanied by an over-bearing "Ti (le) posso presentare la mia segretaria" ("May I introduce my secretary?") is reason enough to stay at the table, hold one's knees together and hope for the best until safely at home. And yet, according to the World Toilet Organisation (an organisation that seeks to improve sanitary conditions worldwide), the average person will spend an almost unbelievable three years of their life in the John; quite a long time to be staring at an information board or a blank door.

So it was with this in mind that Luke Barclay, author of Loo With a View, set off on a two-year global mission: to find bathrooms, dunnies, restrooms and outhouses of distinction to write home about. And not just toilets distinguished by innovative designs or a flash flush, what Barclay sought was a loo that offered more than just a facility, he wanted breathtaking atmosphere, a space in which to contemplate the world. On his journey, the intrepid Brit found 40 latrines that met his criteria: in the rice plantations in Bali, just off Interstate 15 in Las Vegas, and slap bang in the middle of a mini desert near Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia, to name but a few. "Considering the amount of loitering I have done in toilets with a camera," says Barclay, "it is a miracle that I am not in prison." But if he were incarcerated for crimes against human discretion or decency (or whatever the exact charge might be), it would seem he'd have company in the clink. Barclay's introduction explains that he is not alone in his appreciation of the finer lavs in life. A number of other bog spotters exist, and together they form "a small but enthusiastic global community – undivided by class, race or religion – united by a love of loos that have views".

'Loo with a View' (£7.99) by Luke Barclay is published by Virgin Books