The story
Look up. No, higher than that. Towering over the narrow, bohemian streets of Fitzrovia is a structure that looks like it was plucked straight from a 1960s science fiction novel.
You are standing in the shadow of the BT Tower on Cleveland Street, a glistening needle of glass and steel that, for decades, was London’s most conspicuous secret. When it was completed in 1964 and officially opened by Prime Minister Harold Wilson a year later, it was the tallest building in the United Kingdom, standing at 189 meters. It was designed to carry microwave radio signals over the London skyline, acting as the nerve center for the nation’s telecommunications during the height of the Cold War.
But here is the strange part: for nearly thirty years, this massive skyscraper technically did not exist. Because of its vital role in national security, the tower was designated an official secret under the Official Secrets Act. If you had picked up an Ordnance Survey map in the 1970s or 80s, you would have seen the streets of Fitzrovia clearly marked, but the spot where this giant stands would have been a blank space or a mundane-looking courtyard.
It was a 600-foot-tall ghost. It wasn’t until 1993 that Member of Parliament Kate Hoey used parliamentary privilege to reveal its "secret" location, joking that it was a bit hard to miss. As you walk along Cleveland Street, notice the circular, narrow profile.
In its heyday, this was the height of London glamour. The top of the tower featured a world-famous rotating restaurant called "Top of the Tower." It took about 23 minutes to make a full revolution, offering diners a panoramic view of the capital while they ate.
However, that glamour was shattered in 1971 when a bomb exploded in the men's toilets on the 33rd floor. While the "Angry Brigade" was suspected, the mystery of who planted the device was never fully solved. Following the blast, the public was largely barred from the upper floors for security reasons.
Today, the microwave drums that once defined its silhouette have been removed, replaced by high-capacity fiber optics that don't require line-of-sight. The tower is moving into a new chapter, recently sold to be converted into a luxury hotel. But as you look at its iconic shape against the London sky, remember that for a generation of Londoners, this was the building that everyone could see, but no one was allowed to talk about.
It remains a monument to an era of high-tech optimism and deep-seated paranoia, anchored right here in the heart of Fitzrovia.