What Goes Around...

          Spike Milligan once mimed a sketch in which, standing straight with his arms at his side, he rotated on the spot while chewing. When he stopped, he said, “Post Office Tower Restaurant,” and this is what sprang to mind when I heard that London’s landmark telecoms tower is being sold to an American hotel chain.

          This reminiscence turned out to be the first link in another kind of chain, that of nostalgic memories. The sixties washed over me and, before long, I was asking Alexa to play Catch the Wind, by Donovan. It was a big hit in 1965, the year the PO Tower was declared functioning by the Prime Minister, Harold Wilson, though I didn’t consciously connect the two at the time. It was to be another six years before I came into the actual presence of the Tower. And though I never went inside, I became familiar with it because I lived and worked in its shadow for a few years – which explains my subconscious refusal to accept the subsequent change of name to the BT Tower. On reflection, however, its original name was patently ridiculous: all the other post offices in the country were housed in conventional buildings that were open for business to the public. This one charged an admission fee, didn’t sell stamps and had a revolving restaurant at the top that was accessible to only the well-off. The reason I didn’t question the name at the time, was that I had been brought up in the era of the General Post Office, an official body that controlled all forms of communication and was a direct descendant of the original Royal Mail – so called because it was answerable to the monarchy for the purposes of surveillance and censorship. The Tower, therefore, symbolised established authority and its continuance into the future, as embodied in its modernist architecture.

          However, when the delivery of post and the provision of telecoms became separate enterprises, adjustments were made to both business models, the disposal of redundant buildings being the most visible. The microwave dishes for which the Tower was built were discarded long ago, but this building is much more than a left-over mast and deserves a better fate than demolition. The same can be said of thousands of similarly empty buildings all over the country, one such being the Palace Theatre, a half mile from where I live. This seriously ornate entertainment facility was built around 1898, in the heyday of variety shows but, like so many of its kind, it has outlived its commercial viability. Even its last incarnation as a nightclub came to an end and it now stands waiting for either salvation or oblivion. In the absence of a viable plan of my own, I wait in hope that someone with deep pockets will come to the rescue. My preferred saviour would be the Wetherspoons pub chain, not simply because it would bring cheap beer and warm interiors to a local population that has had more than its fair share of hard times, but also because it has a commendable record of rescuing and restoring so many other historic buildings in towns and cities nationwide.

          Meanwhile, back in the capital, where buildings of any description have more commercial value, competition is fierce for the acquisition and re-purposing of obsolete property. For example, the old War Office in Whitehall has recently become The OWO, home to Raffles, London. The name chosen raises the question of whether the new owners of the Tower will similarly honour the history of the building by incorporating it into the branding of their new hotel. Might they, for instance, call it the GPO Pillar? If I were to be consulted (which is unlikely), my suggestion would be The Spike, with Milligan’s Revolving Restaurant, its crowning glory.