Last days of the lidos

Before the gym, there was the lido or the outdoor swimming bath. In its heyday, men wore knee-length bathing togs and demonstrated the plucky British spirit of voluntarily walking into near-freezing water. It was a place to get fit and, in good weather, to flirt and sunbathe.

Most lidos were built in the 1930s, at a time when most of the working population began to enjoy reduced hours and paid holidays. Public health was also an issue: contemporary medical theories extolled the benefits of sunlight and open-air pursuits.

Now, however, vistas for the British lido aren't so sunny. Dwindling funds and the ease of jetting off to warmer beaches abroad has meant the plug has been pulled on most of the UK's most famous lidos. Many have been demolished while the remaining few struggle to stay afloat.

The speed of their loss is alarming: in 1991, there were 120 lidos in the UK; today, there are fewer than 50. Of London's remaining 12, Tooting Bec is the largest. Unveiled in 1906, it was declared by Wandsworth mayor Alexander Glegg to be 'one of the finest of the kind in the whole of London' and 'a means of affording pleasure, stimulating health and warding off disease.'

But there were soon complaints about filthy bathers and rats in the changing rooms of the communal bath-house. It wasn't until women were admitted in the 1930s that hygiene improved and pumps were introduced to clean the water. Today, the lido is a functioning pool and leisure centre.

Traditionally, lidos are unheated. Simon Murie, of the South London Swimming Club which runs Tooting Bec Lido in the winter months, has known regulars who, on freezing mornings after early circuit training, crack the ice and dive in. 'Older people say it perks them up for the day and keeps them young,' he says. 'There's definitely a hard-core group of people who would say that heating a pool is the worst thing to happen'.

For others, the temperature remains a challenge. Without heat, most people are prepared to dip in only when it's warm, leaving lido profits at the mercy of erratic British weather.

Local councils are usually responsible for maintaining the pools when they aren't in use and problems arise when those councils lose interest.

In 2001, journalist Julie Burchill accused Hove and Brighton of 'lidocide' and of being 'particularly bent on abolishing any rogue patch of water whatsoever.'

The council replied it had just spent £300,000 restoring Saltdean Lido. But the exchange made it clear that, where those 'patches of water' exist, passions can run high. The romance of lidos has never entirely disappeared.

Desperate to survive their change in fortune, many lido groups are devising inventive ways to head off closure.

Brockwell Lido, otherwise known as 'Brixton's Beach', enjoyed brief sponsorship by Evian, sporting a logo the length of the pool. Now it offers itself for candlelight swimming, weddings and film shoots. Tooting Bec has already been featured in the Brad Pitt/Guy Ritchie flick, Snatch.

Another option is to get lidos listed for historic interest. Many lidos, such as Brockwell, are soaring examples of Art Deco design, although diving boards and other features have been removed because they don't conform with today's health and safety standards.

Resilient local pressure groups appear keen to keep up the pressure. The outdoor pool shows no sign of sinking without a struggle.

Meanwhile, there are plans for a floating lido on the Thames. 'Indoor swimming pools are like Big Macs. Wherever you go, the water temperature and experience are the same,' Murie says. 'Lidos, on the other hand, can vary in temperature with the seasons, from 29ºC in the summer to 3ºC in the winter, which makes swimming more of an adventure.' Cold-water enthusiasts and sunbathers, take heart.

The London Pool Campaign is fighting to keep the capital's pools open, including lidos. Visit www.londonpoolscampaign.com