Preston Bus Station: Concrete Icon, Saved and Reimagined
Well, here’s a thing, I’ve actually got out and visited some Brutalist architecture for the first time in a few years. Just like buses, I visited 2 in one day.
I was recently invited to do a talk on Fine Art Photography which I called “Putting Lipstick on a Pig” for Hawick Camera Club, It featured plenty of Brutalist buildings, along with a fair number of modernist buildings as well. This has really enthused me to get back out and crack on with this project.
I had visited my brother in Leeds to see the always excellent Stiff Little Fingers, ably supported by The Meffs who I have been following for a few years and were excellent. On my drive back to Scotland I decided to travel up the M6 and stop off at the Preston Bus Station. I had no idea this included a reasonably priced car park immediately on top of it, so, if you are thinking of visiting there’s a very convenient car park for your use!
Anyhow, enough of my blather, here’s what I found.
Few buildings divide opinion quite like Preston Bus Station. Looming over the city in sweeping bands of ribbed concrete, it stands as one of the most powerful examples of post-war Brutalism in Britain—at once monumental, functional, and unapologetically bold.
Completed in 1969, the station was designed by architects Keith Ingham and Charles Wilson of Building Design Partnership, with engineering by Ove Arup & Partners. At the time, it was among the largest bus stations in Europe, capable of handling up to 80 buses alongside a vast multi-storey car park. Its defining feature—the long, curved façade of precast concrete fins—was both a practical solution and a sculptural gesture, giving the building its distinctive rhythm and visual weight.
But like many Brutalist structures, its fortunes declined. By the early 2000s, the building had become worn and unfashionable, and plans were put forward to demolish it as part of a wider redevelopment scheme. What followed was a passionate and highly public campaign to save it. Architects, historians, and locals rallied in its defence, arguing for its cultural and architectural significance. Their efforts paid off in 2013 when the station was granted Grade II listed status—effectively rescuing it from destruction.
The subsequent renovation, completed in 2018, is now widely regarded as a model of sensitive architectural restoration. Rather than erasing its past, the refurbishment embraced the original design while updating it for modern use. Concrete surfaces were repaired, lighting dramatically improved, and the internal layout reworked to create a brighter, safer, and more legible space. Bus stands were reduced and reorganised, while new public areas and connections to the surrounding city were introduced.
Today, Preston Bus Station has been transformed from a threatened relic into a celebrated landmark. Its revival has earned multiple architectural awards and renewed appreciation, not just as a transport hub but as a significant piece of Britain’s modern heritage.
Love it or loathe it, the building endures—proof that even the most uncompromising architecture can find a second life when preservation meets vision.
It was nice to have a look round the inside of the Bus Station which, despite it being a dreary and cold Friday lunchtime, was quite busy.
Downstairs you have the usual timetables, waiting rooms, toilets and bits and pieces to while away the time.
Whilst upstairs there is the car park. I parked up on a basically empty 5th floor and had a wander around. I got my favourite shot of the day in the stairwell. I love a bit of abstract photography.
This yellow Porsche helped give some colour to a rather bleak day. This was on the (bizarrely full) top floor)
The 5th floor of the car park…pretty much empty of cars…with the exception of my own which is behind me here.
