Alexandra Palace

Feel the slope under your feet. Wherever you have walked up from, the ground has been rising steadily, and now the wind finds you. It moves across the open grass and carries the faint sound of traffic from far below. Turn around, and London spreads out in a long grey-blue band. Towers, cranes and church spires sit in a soft haze. Behind you stands a long building of pale brick and tall arched windows. This is Alexandra Palace.

Londoners rarely call it by its full name. To most people it is simply Ally Pally. The nickname is affectionate, a little cheeky, and very North London. The palace sits on a hill in the borough of Haringey, and it was built with a clear idea in mind. It was meant to be a People's Palace, a place where ordinary Londoners could come for music, exhibitions and fresh air. That idea still shapes the place today.

The palace takes its name from Princess Alexandra of Denmark. She married the Prince of Wales, who later became King Edward the Seventh. In the Victorian era, naming a grand public building after a popular royal was a smart way to win attention. The building was also a response to a rival. South London had the Crystal Palace, a huge glass hall on its own hill. North London wanted an answer of its own, and this hilltop was the chosen site.

Now comes the first surprise. The palace opened in 1873, and only about two weeks later it burned down. A fire spread through the building and destroyed much of it. Many of the exhibits inside were lost as well. Imagine the scene — a brand-new palace, built for the public, gone almost before people had learned the way up the hill. It was a dramatic start for a building meant to bring joy.

The builders did not give up. A new palace rose on the same site and opened in 1875. It was larger than the first, with a vast central space called the Great Hall. Victorian visitors came for concerts, shows and displays of all kinds. The surrounding park gave them space to walk, picnic and look out over a city that was growing fast. For many families, a day here was a rare escape from crowded streets.

Inside the Great Hall stands a great pipe organ built by the Victorian organ builder Henry Willis. In its time it was one of the most admired organs in the country. It has suffered damage and long periods of silence over the years. Restoration work has brought much of its voice back. If you visit during an event in the hall, look up at the rows of pipes. They rise like a wall of metal at one end of the space.

The palace also has a darker chapter. During the First World War, the building served first as a shelter for Belgian refugees. Later it became an internment camp for civilians of German and Austrian origin living in Britain. Thousands of men were held here, far from their families. It is a quiet part of the story, and many visitors never hear it. The same halls that hosted concerts once held people who had no choice about being here.

Now look towards the eastern end of the building. You will see a tall metal mast rising above the roofline. This is the second surprise, and it is a big one. In 1936, the BBC began broadcasting a regular public high-definition television service from this building. It is widely described as the first service of its kind in the world. The pictures were watched by only a small number of people with early sets, but a new era had begun.

The BBC studios here worked with two competing systems at first. Engineers tested them side by side before one was chosen. The service paused during the Second World War, and then returned after it. For years, this hilltop was the heart of British television. The mast still stands as a reminder. Today, people around the world watch screens every day, and part of that story started in these rooms above North London.

Fire returned in 1980. A second blaze destroyed a large part of the palace, including much of the Great Hall. Once again, the building had to be rebuilt. It reopened later in the decade, with new spaces for exhibitions, concerts and events. Some areas stayed empty and damaged for many years afterwards. More recent restoration has brought back parts that had been closed for a long time, including the old Victorian theatre in the east wing.

That theatre is worth a moment of attention. For decades it sat closed, its plaster flaking and its stage dark. Rather than polish everything until it looked new, the restoration kept much of the worn, weathered character. The walls still show their age. Standing inside during a show feels like being in a room that has survived, rather than one that has been replaced. It is a careful choice, and it honours the building's long and difficult life.

Today the palace is busy with a mix of uses. There is an ice rink, a large events hall, and rooms for concerts and festivals. Sports fans know it as the home of major darts and snooker tournaments, when the halls fill with noise and colour. Outside, the park offers a boating lake, wide lawns and plenty of benches. The estate is held in trust for the public. In a sense, the original People's Palace idea has lasted.

Before you leave, walk to the terrace and take one more look at the view. Notice how the city seems quiet from up here, even though millions of people are moving through it. Look back at the pale brick, the tall windows, and that thin mast against the sky. This building has burned twice, been rebuilt twice, and helped invent television. As you walk down the hill, the wind will fade, and London will close in around you again.