Genevieve Rudd, Pennant 1

Euroscope in Lowestoft

I’m drawn to the industrial seascape of Lowestoft that folds around the Euroscope, marking the concrete and rock sea defences as the most Easterly point of the UK. It’s easy to overlook this significant point, set within a backdrop of corrugated warehouses and office blocks; once dominated by oil & gas, it’s now a growing hub for renewables and home to the tallest wind turbine in Britain. Growing up along this stretch of coast a few miles away in Gorleston-on-sea, I remember the Great Yarmouth power station, which was then the tallest structure in Norfolk, demolished into a cloud of dust in 1997. Perhaps it’s the culture of coastal East Anglia, or maybe wider Britain, to be modest and humble about being the ‘most’ or biggest. Nevertheless, Lowestoft is evolving its connection with its geography, locally and internationally, in the sky and the sea.

The walkway at the Euroscope feels solid, practical and unfussy. It has a primary functional purpose, to protect the town from the encroaching sea, and secondary to that, offers bracing coastal walks. It took me two attempts to walk this length: in the first, I was lashed by an icy blast, whereas the second, just a week apart, was relatively mild and blue skied. The leisurely seaside welcoming happens further away from the Euroscope, with seasonal cafes, decorative street lamps and amusements. Although ‘energy’ is thematically strong in this location, the signs of living, rambling, sprawling life are limited. I discover Wilde Street, on an intersection away from the coast deeper into the industrial estate, which ironically is laid with a patch of artificial lawn. Wildlife has started to set in; tough plants weave their way through the plastic matting and, around me, I can see civic planting featuring occasionally amongst wire fence, marking one business from the next. A pool of water in a derelict patch of rubble is the perfect spot for flocks of coastal birdlife to bathe, peck and gather.

I feel curious about the future of this place – what industry of the future will it be home to? What will be our energy source in the year 2100? Will industry always be a ring-fenced zone on the peripheries of life, or will they splinter and integrate as they become more environmentally-accountable? In the future, I dream this space will more purposefully accommodate people and have the confidence to beam its message across the North Sea that it’s a place full of energy, on sustainable terms. I dream it will have moved beyond corrugated warehouses, concrete and synthetic-scapes, and it will hold up its people, wild habitats and sea as the sacred and protected.