Where tourists seldom tread: how Preston and St Helens became the heart of Lancashire’s quiet revolution.

This final installment in a series celebrating Britain’s often-overlooked towns brings a deeply personal focus to two distinctive Lancashire locations: Preston and St Helens. Having dedicated much of my recent work, including a book, to exploring my native county, the fundamental question I’ve sought to answer is whether meaningful holidays can truly be found on one’s own doorstep. This quest echoes the philosophical musings of authors like Xavier de Maistre, who famously suggested a profound journey could unfold within the confines of a single room, and Julio Cortázar, who elevated a simple walk upstairs into an epic quest. Indeed, the rich tapestry of an entire county, with its layered history, evolving urban landscapes, and resilient communities, offers more than enough adventure to fill a lifetime.

My travels through these seldom-trod paths have revealed a striking paradox: alongside the visible signs of regeneration and ambitious redevelopment, there’s also an undeniable narrative of demolition and disappearance, a constant flux in the urban fabric. Preston, my nearest city, exemplifies this dynamic with its impressive £45 million leisure complex, a revitalized museum, and a brand-new bridge spanning the River Ribble, all part of a larger, ongoing masterplan. St Helens, my childhood town, though proudly rooted in historic Lancashire, now falls under Merseyside’s administration and is part of the Liverpool City Region, a geographical reclassification often met with local disdain. Currently, St Helens presents itself as a town very much "on the drawing board," its future being meticulously sketched out. Yet, in both cases, by looking beyond the superficial signs of wear and tear, one can discern the promising contours of significant, positive change.

Preston: A City Forging a New Identity

Initially, Preston’s sprawling, low-slung eastern fringes, characterized by Americanized retail parks, vast car lots, and arterial ring roads, presented a somewhat dispiriting vista, suggesting a landscape stripped bare. This initial impression of urban anonymity, however, swiftly dissolved beneath the awe-inspiring spire of St Walburge’s Church. Designed by Joseph Hansom – an architect celebrated for his innovative cab design, but whose ecclesiastical work like this Gothic Revival masterpiece is equally significant – St Walburge’s stands as the tallest parish church in the UK. Its needle-like spire, a testament to the enduring and historically strong Roman Catholic presence in "Priest’s Town," compels one to look upwards, a simple act that feels like a primal form of cognitive therapy, instilling a sense of hope and architectural wonder. Lancashire, particularly its western half, has long been a bastion of Catholicism, a legacy rooted in the recusant families who maintained their faith through centuries of persecution, and St Walburge’s remains a powerful symbol of this heritage.

My exploration deepened with the discovery of the Harris Museum and Art Gallery, a regional treasure that recently reopened in September after a transformative £19 million refurbishment. This significant investment, supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund, Arts Council England, and local council funding, has repositioned the Harris as a vibrant cultural hub. It now serves as a comprehensive refuge for art enthusiasts, history buffs, and anyone seeking respite from the weather, housing extensive collections of local history, textiles, fashion, ceramics, and a modern library. The museum’s most prized possession, the Cuerdale Hoard – the largest Viking silver hoard ever discovered in England, unearthed near the River Ribble – remains a point of contention. While some pieces are housed locally, a significant portion resides in national institutions like the British Museum and the Ashmolean. A return of the complete hoard to its place of discovery would undoubtedly amplify the Harris’s national standing and allow for a more holistic interpretation of this pivotal historical artifact within its original geographical context.

My tenure on jury service at the crown court provided an unexpected opportunity to truly embed myself in Preston’s urban landscape. Daily walks from the park-and-ride transformed into curated sightseeing tours, revealing layers of architectural and historical significance. Highlights included the imposing brutalist architecture of the Bus Station and Guild Hall, monuments to an ambitious but ultimately unrealized "new town" plan for Central Lancashire in the 1970s. The preservation and recent renovation of the bus station, a masterpiece of Ove Arup’s engineering, reflects a growing appreciation for brutalism’s unique aesthetic and its role in mid-20th-century urban design. The city also bears witness to darker historical moments, such as the monument commemorating the 1842 martyrs, textile workers tragically gunned down by infantry and police during the Chartist General Strike, a stark reminder of Lancashire’s pivotal role in the struggle for workers’ rights and democratic reform.

Preston’s rich architectural heritage extends to its Victorian market hall and the elegant Miller Arcade, still bustling commercial centers, and the serene Winckley Square, an immaculately preserved Georgian park surrounded by grand terraces, offering a glimpse into the city’s affluent past. The city’s religious diversity is evident in its array of historic churches, from the Anglican St Wilfrid’s and St John’s Minster to the striking Saint Alphonsa Syro-Malabar Cathedral, which serves a growing Syro-Malabar Catholic community, reflecting Preston’s evolving demographics.

Granted city status in 2002, Preston has historically been a nexus of power and influence. It marks the geographical and chronological starting point of the cotton-town trail across East Lancashire. Richard Arkwright, often credited as the "father of the factory system" and co-inventor of the water-powered spinning frame, was born here in 1732, laying the groundwork for the Industrial Revolution. The colossal Centenary Mill, built for the global textile giant Horrockses, Crewdson & Co, with its magnificent chimney, stood as a defiant symbol of industrial might, rivaling the churches for dominance on the skyline. Today, an annex off its yard offers a magical emporium of antiques, fixtures, and fittings, a tangible link to the wealth and craftsmanship of a bygone era.

Preston’s industrial origins also fostered a unique social and sporting landscape. The temperance and teetotalism movements, notably spearheaded by Joseph Livesey from nearby Walton-le-Dale, a clothier’s son, emerged as a moral counterpoint to the perceived "immorality" and social ills of rapidly industrializing towns. This drive for social reform had a profound impact on public health and community organization. Simultaneously, the burgeoning working class demanded leisure, leading to the rise of professional sports. Preston North End, a founding member of the English Football League, played its first game at Deepdale, one of England’s oldest football grounds, in 1875. Furthermore, Preston was home to the pioneering Dick, Kerr Ladies, one of the earliest and most successful women’s football teams, founded in 1917, whose extraordinary history was unjustly suppressed for decades by the FA’s ban on women’s football.

While the temperance movement left its mark, Preston also cherishes its traditional public houses. The Black Horse, with its exquisite etched windows, cozy snug-like seating, stunning tiling, and a rare ceramic bar, stands as Preston’s most beautiful old pub, a testament to Victorian craftsmanship. Complementing these historic establishments, Preston’s culinary scene is flourishing with new, diverse venues like Kimji, offering cool Korean cuisine, Pintxos, serving authentic Spanish dishes, and Aven, celebrating modern British fare, signaling a vibrant, contemporary urban culture.

The 1974 local government overhaul, though controversial in its redrawing of county lines, inadvertently positioned Preston as a future "capital" of sorts within the truncated Lancashire. Today, it is increasingly living up to this billing. A local legend, perhaps whispered by an old pigeon outside the Harris Museum, suggests that "Manchesterism" – the influential concept of local authorities taking control and investing strategically in their areas – is actually a misnomer. The true genesis of this idea, it is argued, lies in Preston. The "Preston Model" of Community Wealth Building, which emphasizes local procurement, supports worker cooperatives, and advocates for public ownership of assets, has demonstrably led to living standards rising significantly faster than the UK average. This innovative approach, which empowers local communities and circulates wealth within the local economy, has garnered national attention, with figures like Greater Manchester’s former mayor Andy Burnham publicly acknowledging its profound influence. "Prestonism," therefore, may indeed be poised to change Britain and even the world, once again.

Things to see and do in Preston: Embark on the 21-mile Guild Wheel, a circular route ideal for walking or cycling; visit the historic Tram Bridge; explore the unique architecture of the Preston England Temple (LDS); discover the local legend of the Devil’s House on St Wilfrid Street; and journey into industrial heritage at the Ribble Steam Railway and Museum.

St Helens: Reimagining a Town of Glass and Grit

For me, St Helens carries the weight of childhood memories, yet until recently, I had never stepped inside St Helens Minster, despite being born nearby. In my defense, it was only in May of this year that the parish church was elevated to Minster status, reflecting its expanded role as the "mother-church" and spiritual heart of the entire community. The town itself began here, with four ancient rural manors—Windle, Parr, Sutton, and Eccleston—clustered around a humble chapel of ease, offering solace to weary travelers. These old names still resonate in the charming, if sometimes gritty, villages they encompass: Clinkham Wood, Thatto Heath, Nutgrove. Once fertile fields, St Helens transformed into a powerhouse of shops, coal pits, and glassworks, a crucible of industrial might. Now, it is undergoing another profound metamorphosis.

Two major developments are shaping this future. One, though appearing small on a map, carries immense symbolic weight: the ongoing conservation of No 7 Cannington Shaw Bottle Shop. Built in 1886, this was once part of a complex of nine such "bottle shops" – essentially factories – that together formed the largest glass bottle production site in the world. This stunning redbrick circular building, with its distinctive conical roof, is the sole survivor, nestled incongruously beside a large Tesco and the Saints’ flashy rugby league arena. Here, tons of molten glass were once heated, and skilled glassblowers expertly scooped up glowing gobs to inflate, shape, and mold into countless bottles. After serving as an air raid shelter and storage depot, the site was abandoned and narrowly escaped demolition by a fortunate twist of fate. John Tabern, director of the project and an ex-glassman, articulates the passion behind the restoration: "As an ex-glassman, it’s extremely important to me. I’m proud of St Helens and want people to know its story. But we must monetise it with gigs and markets and all those things." Indeed, on the first Saturday of every month, No 7 Cannington Shaw now buzzes with artisan craft markets, a bar, and food stalls, breathing new life into a vital piece of industrial heritage.

The second, more expansive, transformation is unfolding across a large area east and south of the town hall. Following what has been described as "blitz-level demolition" in previous decades, a comprehensive masterplan is bringing forth a new bus station, modern homes, offices, a hotel, green spaces, piazzas, and "revitalized retail spaces." While the town has a history of tearing down the old, there is a renewed focus on preserving and adaptively reusing its architectural gems. The magnificent Gamble Building, a fine example of Victorian redbrick architecture, is being reimagined to house a smart new library, a vibrant youth space, and modern offices. The Town Hall itself stands as a testament to civic pride. Another iconic structure, the Beecham’s Building, erected in 1887 at considerable expense, is crowned by a coquettish clock tower. Its founder, Thomas Beecham, an entrepreneurial spirit who began by selling laxatives to the people of Wigan, found St Helens to be the perfect crucible for his business to flourish. The sleek, modern St Helens College, facing this historic HQ, exemplifies a successful marriage of old and new architecture.

St Helens also boasts significant modernist architectural contributions. Reflection Court, the former Pilkington’s headquarters on Canal Street, features a streamlined brick façade strongly influenced by the Dutch modernist Willem Marinus Dudok. Further out, at Alexandra Park, the former Pilkington’s complex was designed by the celebrated modernist architects Jane Drew and Maxwell Fry, who collaborated with giants like Walter Gropius and Le Corbusier. These significant structures are now, fittingly, being earmarked for apartment conversions, a common and effective strategy for repurposing large industrial and corporate sites in post-industrial towns.

My departure from St Helens always includes a stop at The Book Stop, a community bookstore where I proudly hold "shares" and recently gave a talk on my Lancashire book. Without any prompting from me, the manager titled the event "Don’t Call Us Merseyside," a sentiment that resonates deeply with many locals who equally reject the newer "Liverpool City Region" designation. This speaks volumes about the enduring and fiercely proud Lancashire identity within St Helens. As I leave, I pass St Mary’s Lowe House Catholic Church, a structure I remember as immense and ominous from childhood. While the renowned architectural historian Nikolaus Pevsner wasn’t its greatest admirer, I find its competing Byzantine dome and Gothic tower fascinating, as if the architect grappled with different visions. Its black brickwork, a patina of two centuries of factory fumes, tells a poignant story of the town’s industrial past. I pass the Turks Head pub, routinely lauded by CAMRA for its traditional charm and excellent ales, and the site of FC St Helens, where the rugby league team played in the 1880s, tracing the roots of the town’s sporting passion.

My final stop is always St Helens Cemetery and Crematorium, a place I have visited far too often in recent decades. Just as the town was built on industrial furnaces, this modern furnace continues its somber work. Beyond the neat rows of contemporary gravestones, a heart-shaped path from above leads to St Helens’ most ancient structure: Windleshaw Chantry, dating from 1415, when this was open countryside. Beneath it lies a large tomb, its flat tablet inscribed with abbreviated words that, when fully spelled out, read: "Here lie the remains of Jean Baptiste François Graux de la Bruyere – He was the first Who brought to Perfection A Work of very considerable Magnitude And Importance To the Commercial Interest of the British Nation." This immigrant from Picardy, who died in 1787 at the age of 48, is widely believed to be the visionary who perfected glass-making in St Helens, a pivotal contribution that laid the foundation for its industrial boom. I am certain he would be immensely pleased to see the town finally celebrating his profound legacy, a testament to the enduring spirit of innovation and community that defines St Helens.

Things to see and do in St Helens: Explore the interactive exhibits at the World of Glass; support local literature at The Book Stop; delve into local transport history at the North West Museum of Road Transport; visit the striking Dream sculpture, a symbol of regeneration on a former colliery site; and enjoy authentic local flavors at Café Laziz.