A Rare Double-Door K6
The standard red K6 telephone kiosk is one of Britain's most recognizable pieces of street design.
The K6 was designed by architect Sir Giles Gilbert Scott in 1935 for the General Post Office to commemorate the Silver Jubilee of King George V.
Historic England describes it as a milestone of twentieth-century industrial design.
Scott was one of Britain's major architects, associated with works including Liverpool's Anglican Cathedral and Battersea Power Station.
His K6 design developed ideas from his earlier K2 telephone kiosk but made the structure more compact and economical to manufacture.
Tens of thousands were eventually produced.
With their red cast-iron bodies, glazed panels, curved roofs and familiar TELEPHONE signs, K6 kiosks became part of the visual identity of Britain.
The kiosk Arnold travelled to see, however, had an extraordinary local modification.
It had two doors.
The Twentieth Century Society describes this variation as the “Hebridean Storm Door” version of the K6.
The reason for the modification was practical rather than decorative.
The Outer Hebrides are exposed to extremely strong winds. A large conventional single kiosk door could become difficult or potentially dangerous in such conditions.
According to the Society, the special double-door model was fabricated by the Saracen Foundry in Glasgow. The smaller doors were more manageable in powerful winds.
Only two examples of this unusual form are known by the organization to survive in their original locations, at Crulivig and Eneclate on Lewis.
The Einacleit example was even more unusual because its telephone line was still connected.
The BBC described it as being believed to be the last remaining connected double-door telephone kiosk in the UK.
For someone interested in preserving public telephony, Arnold could hardly have chosen a more appropriate destination.
Arriving to Find the Doors Painted Shut
After travelling such an enormous distance, Arnold encountered an unexpected problem.
The kiosk had recently been repainted.
Unfortunately, according to the BBC report, the paint had effectively sealed the doors shut.
There was also a sign indicating “emergency calls only.”
Arnold had travelled hundreds of miles with approximately £36 in 20p and 50p coins, specifically to use that telephone.
Eventually, the problem was overcome.
Then the calls began.
One after another, Arnold fed coins into the telephone and dialled.
The 52 calls were not merely quick attempts to manipulate a counter.
He spoke to 52 different people.
Some of the people he contacted had supported the project. Some even called the telephone box back, turning the exercise into actual conversations rather than a sequence of momentary connections.
Arnold told the BBC that some conversations lasted longer than others.
Completing the entire series took just under two hours.
Outside, conditions were appropriately Hebridean.
The weather was miserable, with strong wind and rain.
Inside an unusual red kiosk designed generations earlier to survive precisely that kind of environment, a man from Cornwall continued inserting coins and making calls.
By the end, he had reached 52.
The Calls Cost About £36 — The Journey Was the Expensive Part
There is something wonderfully disproportionate about the numbers involved.
Arnold's telephone calls required only about £36 in coins.
To make them, he travelled approximately 1,700 miles.
If efficiency had been the only consideration, the project would make very little sense.
But that was partly the point.
The enormous journey transformed an obscure telecommunications regulation into a story people could understand.
“52 calls in 12 months” sounds like a technical criterion buried in regulatory policy.
A man travelling from Cornwall to a windswept Scottish island and standing inside a rare red telephone box until he has personally made all 52 calls is something people remember.