Where tourists seldom tread: Preston and St Helens

This double act of “Lancashire” locations is my final celebration of Britain’s bypassed towns. My native county has dominated my life of late, and one key question asked in these columns has been: can you holiday right at home?

Indeed, the spirit of domestic exploration, often termed a "staycation," resonates deeply with the philosophical musings of authors like Xavier de Maistre, who famously argued for the profound journeys possible within the confines of a single room, and Julio Cortázar, who transformed a mundane walk upstairs into an epic quest. These literary precedents remind us that adventure isn’t solely found in distant lands, but often lies hidden in the familiar, waiting to be rediscovered. An entire county, particularly one as historically rich and geographically diverse as Lancashire, offers enough adventures to fill a lifetime, revealing layers of heritage and contemporary dynamism that often escape the gaze of mainstream tourism.

Touring seldom-trod places across Lancashire, I’ve witnessed a landscape in constant flux – a cycle of regeneration and redevelopment, demolition and disappearance. This transformation is palpable in two significant towns: Preston, my closest city, and St Helens, my childhood town. While St Helens proudly roots itself in historic Lancashire, it’s administratively part of Merseyside and now the Liverpool City Region, a classification that often stirs local debate. Both locations, though exhibiting the frayed fabric of post-industrial townscapes, are undergoing significant positive changes. Preston, for instance, boasts a new £45m leisure complex, a magnificently revamped museum, and a new bridge over the River Ribble, with more ambitious plans on the horizon. St Helens, though currently resembling a "drawing board" in its state of transition, is also charting a course towards a revitalised future.

Preston: A Northern Powerhouse Reawakening

My initial encounter with Preston’s low-slung eastern edges, dominated by "Americanised" retail parks and sprawling car parks, left me feeling rather deflated. These out-of-town developments, designed for convenience, often inadvertently strip character from city centres, creating a sense of generic urban sprawl. However, Preston, a city steeped in history and granted city status in 2002, soon began to reveal its hidden depths.

My perspective shifted dramatically the moment I stood beneath the extraordinary, almost otherworldly, "hypodermic spire" of St Walburge’s Church. At 309 feet (94 metres), it stands as the tallest parish church in the UK, a soaring testament to Victorian Gothic Revival architecture designed by Joseph Hansom, a man famed not just for ecclesiastical structures but also for inventing the iconic hansom cab. This architectural marvel, with its audacious height and intricate detailing, speaks volumes about the strong Roman Catholic presence in "Priest’s Town" throughout history. Gazing upwards at such an edifice isn’t merely observing architecture; it’s an act of primitive cognitive therapy, inspiring awe and a sense of hope that transcends the immediate urban environment.

Further enriching my journey was the majestic Harris Museum and Art Gallery, which reopened last September after an impressive £19m refurbishment. This neoclassical gem is more than just a museum; it’s a vibrant cultural nucleus, a multi-faceted refuge from rain or indeed, a heatwave. It masterfully combines art, local history, textiles, fashion, ceramics, and a public library under one magnificent roof, making it a regional treasure. A particularly poignant point of discussion for local historians and curators is the Cuerdale Hoard, the largest Viking hoard ever found in England, unearthed near the River Ribble in 1840. While a significant portion resides in the British Museum and Ashmolean, there’s a compelling argument for its full repatriation to the Harris, allowing Preston to tell the complete story of its Viking past and solidify its place as a custodian of national heritage.

During my time on jury service at the crown court, my daily walks from the park-and-ride transformed into impromptu sightseeing tours. The city’s architectural tapestry is remarkably diverse, showcasing its layered history. Highlights include the imposing brutalist Preston Bus Station and Guild Hall. Conceived in the 1960s as part of an unrealised "new town" vision for Central Lancashire, the bus station, designed by Ove Arup and Partners, is a controversial yet globally recognised example of brutalist architecture, now Grade II listed and lovingly restored. It stands as a bold, concrete statement to mid-20th-century urban ambition. Nearby, the monument to the 1842 martyrs serves as a stark reminder of the city’s role in the General Strike, where infantry and police tragically gunned down protesting workers – a crucial, if somber, chapter in British labour history.

Preston’s Victorian commercial prowess is evident in its grand market hall, court building, and the elegant Miller Arcade. These structures, with their ornate facades and bustling interiors, speak to a prosperous era. Winckley Square offers a serene counterpoint, with its beautifully preserved Georgian terraces surrounding a tranquil park, once the exclusive residential enclave of Preston’s industrial elite. The city’s religious diversity is also on display, from the Anglican St Wilfrid’s and St John’s Minster to the striking Saint Alphonsa Syro-Malabar Cathedral, reflecting Preston’s rich multicultural fabric.

As a city, Preston has long been a place of power and influence, serving as a pivotal starting point, both geographically and chronologically, for the cotton-town trail through East Lancashire. It was here, in 1732, that Richard Arkwright, the "father of the factory system" and co-creator of the water-powered spinning frame, was born. His innovations irrevocably altered global industry and society. The magnificent chimney of Centenary Mill, built for the empire-spanning textile firm Horrockses, Crewdson & Co, once stood as "mammon’s shameless challenge to the churches," a proud declaration of industrial might. Today, an annexe off its yard houses a magical emporium of antiques, salvaged from mouldering mansions, offering a tangible link to the past.

Industry, in its many forms, also fostered other Prestonian innovations. The temperance movement, spearheaded by Joseph Livesey, a local clothier’s son from Walton-le-Dale, emerged as a direct reaction to the social ills and "immorality" prevalent in burgeoning industrial towns. Furthermore, the city played a foundational role in professional football. Preston North End was a founder member of the English Football League, and their home, Deepdale, on the same site since 1875, is one of England’s oldest grounds. The pioneering spirit extended to women’s football with the legendary Dick, Kerr Ladies, founded in 1917, one of the world’s first women’s teams, whose story of triumph and subsequent suppression is only now receiving its deserved recognition.

While respecting the temperance movement’s historical significance, I confess a fondness for the Black Horse, arguably Preston’s most beautiful old pub. Its etched windows, snug-like seating, gorgeous tiling, and rare ceramic bar offer a delightful step back in time. This traditional charm is now complemented by a burgeoning modern culinary scene, with cool Korean dishes at Kimji, authentic Spanish tapas at Pintxos, and sophisticated modern British cuisine at Aven, reflecting a vibrant and diverse city palate.

Since the county reorganisation of 1974, Preston has gradually grown into a de facto "capital" of Lancashire, and it’s increasingly living up to that billing. A curious anecdote, perhaps whispered by an old pigeon outside the Harris, suggests that "Manchesterism" – the idea of local authorities exerting control and investing in their place – is actually misnamed. The core principles, it’s argued, originated in Preston, leading to a significant rise in local living standards, as acknowledged even by figures like Manchester’s former mayor, Andy Burnham. This "Preston Model" of community wealth building and local investment holds the potential to redefine local governance across Britain and beyond, demonstrating the enduring power of grassroots innovation.

Things to see and do in Preston: Walk or cycle the 21-mile Guild Wheel, explore the historic Tram Bridge, visit the serene Preston England Temple of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, discover the intriguing Devil’s House on St Wilfrid Street, and experience the charm of the Ribble Steam Railway and Museum.

St Helens: Forging a New Identity from Industrial Roots

My connection to St Helens runs deep; I was born nearby, yet it was only recently that I stepped inside St Helens Minster. Until May of this year, it was merely the parish church, but its elevation to Minster status reflects its vital role as the mother church of the entire community, a testament to its growing civic importance.

The town’s origins are humble, tracing back to four ancient rural manors – Windle, Parr, Sutton, Eccleston – clustered around a chapel of ease, offering respite to medieval wayfarers. These old names still resonate through charming villages like Clinkham Wood, Thatto Heath, and Nutgrove, reminding us that St Helens was once a landscape of fields before it became a crucible of shops, pits, and glassworks. Now, it is transforming again, seeking a new identity beyond its industrial past.

Two significant developments highlight this ongoing metamorphosis. One, seemingly small on a map but mighty in its symbolism, is the painstaking conservation work at No 7 Cannington Shaw Bottle Shop. Built in 1886, this was once part of a complex of nine such "shops" or factories, forming the largest glass bottle production site in the world. This lovely 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 gobs to inflate, shape, and mould into bottles – a vibrant, fiery spectacle of human ingenuity.

After serving as an air raid shelter and storage depot, the site was abandoned and narrowly escaped demolition by sheer serendipity. Today, it hosts artisan craft markets on the first Saturday of every month, complete with a bar and food stalls. John Tabern, the project director and an ex-glassman, eloquently states its importance: "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." This pragmatic approach ensures its survival and reimagines its purpose as a community hub, celebrating its industrial legacy while embracing contemporary culture.

The second major undertaking, larger in scale if less immediately evocative, involves a comprehensive regeneration of a vast area east and south of the town hall. Following what some might describe as "blitz-level demolition" in previous decades, this ambitious project envisions a new bus station, modern homes, offices, a hotel, revitalised green spaces, piazzas, and contemporary retail units. It’s a bold attempt to weave a new urban fabric into a town that has often suffered from piecemeal development.

Amidst this transformation, St Helens retains impressive examples of Victorian architecture. The Gamble Building, a robust redbrick structure, is earmarked to house a smart new library, youth space, and offices, demonstrating how heritage can be repurposed for modern needs. The Town Hall stands as another solid example of Victorian civic pride. The iconic Beecham’s Building, constructed in 1887 at considerable expense, is topped by a coquettish clock tower. Its founder, Thomas Beecham, began his empire selling laxatives to the people of Wigan; St Helens, a crucible of industry, provided the perfect environment for his business to flourish. The juxtaposition of this historic HQ with the smart, modern St Helens College opposite creates a dynamic dialogue between past and present.

St Helens also boasts significant modernist architectural heritage. Reflection Court, the former Pilkington’s headquarters on Canal Street, features a streamlined brick facade clearly influenced by the Dutch modernist master Willem Marinus Dudok. Even more remarkable is the former Pilkington’s complex at Alexandra Park on the edge of town, designed by the pioneering modernist architects Jane Drew and Maxwell Fry, renowned for their collaborations with giants like Walter Gropius and Le Corbusier. These buildings, often overlooked, represent a crucial chapter in 20th-century architecture, with many now earmarked for apartment conversions, ensuring their continued utility.

My departure from St Helens always includes a visit to The Book Stop, a cherished community bookstore where I hold "shares" and recently gave a talk on my Lancashire book. Without any prompting, the manager aptly titled it: "Don’t Call Us Merseyside." This sentiment, along with the equal unpopularity of the newer "Liverpool City Region" designation, powerfully underscores the strong, fiercely independent local identity that persists in St Helens, a pride rooted deeply in its Lancashire heritage.

I pass St Mary’s Lowe House Catholic Church, a structure I remember as huge and ominous from childhood. Architectural historian Nikolaus Pevsner wasn’t overly keen on it, but I find its architectural eclecticism captivating, with a Byzantine dome competing for attention with a Gothic tower, as if the architect couldn’t quite decide. The brickwork, blackened by two centuries of factory fumes, tells its own industrial story. Further on, I pass the Turks Head pub, routinely lauded by CAMRA for its traditional excellence, and the grounds of FC St Helens, a testament to the town’s enduring passion for rugby league, a sport deeply woven into its social fabric since the 1880s.

Finally, I arrive at St Helens Cemetery and Crematorium, a place I’ve visited too often in recent decades. It’s a poignant reminder that while the town’s industrial furnaces have largely cooled, this one remains busy. Beyond the neat ranks of modern gravestones, I follow a path that, from above, forms a heart shape, leading to the wooded corner where St Helens’ most ancient structure stands: Windleshaw Chantry. Dating from 1415, it pre-dates the industrial boom, a silent witness to a time when this was open countryside. Beneath it lies a large tomb, bearing an abbreviated inscription that, when spelled out, reads: "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 48, is widely believed to be the visionary who introduced advanced glass-making techniques to St Helens, laying the foundation for its global dominance. I am certain he would be pleased that, after centuries, the town is at last actively celebrating his profound and lasting legacy.

Things to see and do in St Helens: Immerse yourself in glass history at the World of Glass, support local literature at The Book Stop, explore transport history at the North West Museum of Road Transport, marvel at the iconic Dream sculpture, and savour authentic flavours at Café Laziz.