What If the Tower Came Back?

Rory Wilmer
Jul 11, 2025
2 min read

OK. Let’s just say it out loud: Rebuild the pier. Rebuild the tower.

Two no-brainers. Two bold strokes. Two impossible ideas—until they’re not. Of course, the usual choir will chime in:

"Too expensive."

"Too complicated."

"Too late."

And sure—there are always reasons not to do something. But none of that stops me imagining what could be. Because that’s what this place does to you. It gets under your skin, kicks up the silt in your head, and whispers: Why not?

Look Again

I’ve been staring at this old photo from Perch Rock. The one with the original New Brighton Tower, rising out of the sand like a dream in scaffolding. Victorian families on the beach. The tide out. The sky big.

Now look again. We’ve reimagined it—two sketches, one photoreal, one architectural. Not a copy. Not nostalgia. Something new built on the old. A modern tower, civic at its base, soaring at the top. A signal to the river. A statement to the world.

From sand to sky, past to future—what once stood tall could rise again. Not a replica, but a revival. A statement. A signal. A place where stories begin.

This isn’t just about buildings. It’s about reconnecting the town to its main artery of experience: the Mersey. It’s about giving people a reason to walk, to look up, to belong. It’s about imagination having the courage to show up in concrete, steel, and glass.

What Towers Mean

Towers are never just towers. They’re declarations. They say: We’re here. We matter. We’re building something bigger than ourselves.

The original tower told a story of ambition—of New Brighton trying to out-Blackpool Blackpool. It didn’t last, but its spirit still hangs in the sea air. A new tower wouldn’t be about one-upmanship. It’d be about identity. It’d say:

We’re the town that rebuilt what others forgot. We turned “you can’t” into “we did.” We stood up and looked out again.

I’m No Architect

It starts with a line. A shape. A feeling. Reimagine the tower not as a monument to the past, but as a platform for the future—civic, cultural, and full of life.

I’m no architect. No engineer. No cost consultant. But I do have a mind. And I can use it to speak, to sketch, to imagine.

What if we gave New Brighton a centrepiece again?

Not a retail park, not a car park—A civic place. A creative place. A shared place.

A Pier for the Next Century – Not a relic, but a reimagining. This vision reaches forward with clean lines and curved ambition, honouring the spirit of Victorian promenades without being trapped by them. A place to walk, to gather, to look out—and to begin again.

Something that lifts the eye and the spirit.

The Impossible Is Just the Start