
Blackpool Tower to be taken over by council's in-house tourism firm
Blackpool Tourism Ltd will also take over managing Madame Tussauds, alongside with the Sandcastle waterpark and the Showtown Museum. Maddam Tussauds, and The Dungeons, will be operated under franchise from Merlin. Williams said: "In 2010, Blackpool Council bought Blackpool Tower bringing it into public ownership for the first time to safeguard the future of our much loved iconic landmark whilst also transforming it into a tourist attraction fit for the 21st century.She added in 2010 "we did not have the skills or knowledge within the town to redevelop the Tower into a modern attraction" and bringing Merlin Entertainments on board was "absolutely the right decision".Andy Turner, Merlin's regional director of Gateway Attractions, said: "We fully support the local authority's desire to see these attractions return to local management."Merlin added existing Merlin season passes and pre-bought tickets would be honoured.
'Replica Eiffel Tower'
The Blackpool Tower Company was founded by London-based Standard Contract & Debenture Corporation in 1890, when it bought an aquarium on Central Promenade with the intention of building a replica Eiffel Tower.Costing nearly £300,000 the 518 ft (158m) the tower opened on 14 May 1894. Its complex includes a circus whose ring is flooded for its finale, and the 120 ft (37m) by 10 ft (31m) ballroom with a sprung floor made of 30,600 separate planks of oak, mahogany and walnut.The dancefloor, and the ballroom's famous 1935-built organ, feature prominently in the BBC show Strictly Come Dancing.
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Times
6 minutes ago
- Times
New Anglo-Australian defence treaty should include more nations
Nuclear-powered submarines are among some of the most complex objects built by man. They require exceptional build quality, such as in the welds used to ensure structural integrity. The skills required are scarce and in high demand, which is why even the United States finds it challenging to launch more than one a year. Together with the US, China, Russia, France and now India, the United Kingdom is a member of the small club of nations capable of producing these deadly prowlers of the ocean depths, the presence of which can send lesser navies scurrying for port. However, the immense cost of these vessels, the capital ships of the modern era, means that it is difficult to maintain a steady drumbeat of production. Gaps in orders can result in the running down of supply chains and an exodus of trained workers. That is why the signing this weekend of the 50-year Geelong treaty between the UK and Australia is so important. The agreement covers the construction in Barrow-in-Furness and Adelaide of a new class of hunter-killer sub (SSN), nuclear powered but conventionally armed. Britain is looking to build 12 in a move that would take the Royal Navy back to its Cold War strength. Australia may build half a dozen. Good news for Barrow, home to Britain's only nuclear yard, and Rolls Royce in Derby, where submarine reactors are made. Some 7,000 jobs will be created at Barrow and in the supply chain; the export of components to Australia will earn £20 billion over 25 years. There is, however, uncertainty hanging over the deal. Geelong is a subsidiary part of the Aukus agreement involving the US, UK and Australia. The idea is for the Americans to sell Australia three to five off-the-shelf SSNs to serve as a stop-gap before the arrival of its home-built subs in the 2040s. But Aukus, a child of the Biden era, is now in danger of falling victim to the Trump administration's 'America first' policy. There is fear in Washington that the loss of the subs would seriously undermine the US Navy's ability to defend Taiwan from invasion by China. This wavering American commitment to Aukus is further evidence of the need for US allies to future-proof their armed forces against its increasingly mercurial security policy. That means not being overly reliant on the US for equipment. Britain is already cooperating with Italy and Japan on the Tempest combat aircraft project, and growing closer to France and Germany in the nuclear and conventional fields. Geelong suggests another, complementary route: the rebuilding of Britain's defence-industrial ties with its most trusted friends in a 'Canzuk' alliance of Canada, Australia, the UK and New Zealand. These countries have gone their own way on trade, with old Commonwealth patterns of commerce replaced by regional ones, but they can all benefit from economies of scale. Together, Canzuk has a joint GDP that is fourth behind China, the US and the European Union. That promises economies of scale in defence procurement without the overweening influence of the US. The Canzuk concept joins together nations with shared histories and values. Trade may have declined, but not trust. The four are already partners in the Five Eyes intelligence alliance and can do a lot more to strengthen mutual security. In this uncertain world, where authoritarian powers threaten the international order and the US insurance policy is expiring, old ties can be put to new uses.


The Guardian
35 minutes ago
- The Guardian
‘They're rowdy. They're vibing. I rip my shirt off': the exploding career of Hanumankind, India's hottest rapper
Two weeks ago, halfway through his first ever UK show, Hanumankind instructed the crowd to mimic him by hopping to the right then to the left, back and forth, in unison. But the rapper from India slipped and fell, limping to the end of the gig in evident pain, kept upright by his DJ and inspired by the audience's singalong familiarity with his catalogue. 'We were ready to have a good time,' he sheepishly grins from an armchair at his record label's offices three days later. It turns out he has torn a ligament. 'It was a battle of internal turmoil. The show was like a fifth of what it was meant to be, but I gave it my all. London has a beautiful energy which gave me strength.' Even without the leg injury, the 32-year-old star, who was born Sooraj Cherukat, has reached a testing threshold in his short, explosive career. His tracks Big Dawgs and Run It Up, helped by action-movie music videos, have made him one of the most talked-about MCs in the world. A$AP Rocky and Fred Again are among his recent collaborators. Indian prime minister Narendra Modi even invited Cherukat to perform at an event in New York last September. But as a rare south Asian face in globally popular rap, he feels a certain responsibility. 'The past year has been hard,' he says. 'I'm trying to navigate through it.' What's more, although he expresses a deep pride about life in India, 'a lot of things are off. There is a mob mentality. There's a lot of divisiveness because of religion, background, caste. It doesn't sit well with me. I'm in a unique space to change the way people can think within my country.' Born in Malappuram, Kerala, which he remembers as a 'green, beautiful environment', Cherukat spent his childhood following his father's work abroad, from Nigeria to Saudi Arabia to Britain. 'We'd traverse different countries and I'd sing songs in whatever language I was picking up,' he says. 'Wherever I went, I had to get involved and be ready to leave. I learned to connect with people. That's why the power of the word is so important to me.' At the age of 10, he landed in Houston, Texas, and found a rare stability. It was the early 2000s and the city was an engine room for rap innovation. Cherukat's set his accent to a southern drawl. Already a fan of heavy metal – which makes sense given his grungy, rockstar leanings today – he became hooked on the local chopped-and-screwed subgenre pioneered by DJ Screw, Three 6 Mafia and Project Pat. In his teens he was 'burning CDs full of beats, riding around smoking blunts and hitting hard freestyles'. He returned to south India just before hitting 20. 'The only place I had roots,' he says. He completed a university degree in Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu, before working a corporate job in the tech hub of Bengaluru. Seeing rap as 'a party thing, a way to de-stress and stay connected to the art form', he performed at open-mic nights, softening his US accent and perfecting his stage show for an Indian audience. 'Friends would come to watch and be like, 'Dude, you're not bad. You should lock in.'' So he did. At the end of 2019, Cherukat played his first festival: NH7 Weekender in Pune, Maharashtra. The crowd went wild, quickly morphing from a small handful into a packed moshpit. 'They're rowdy and they're fucking vibing,' he says. 'I rip my shirt off. I'm like, 'OK, I can do this!'' He quit his job and began plotting his next move, filling notebooks with lyrics throughout the pandemic. These are a blend of cheek and grit delivered with a flow that keeps respawning at different speeds and scales. Soon, Cherukat was signed by Def Jam India. Part of a movement to reject the remnants of British colonialism in favour of local expression, the proud, rebellious patchwork of Indian hip-hop encompasses the vast country's 'hundreds of languages, each as deeply rooted as the next', Cherukat explains. 'Someone who speaks Hindi or another regional language will give you a vast amount of depth and detail in what they're doing.' His decision to rap mostly in English therefore came with risks of being perceived as inauthentic at home, but it has certainly helped his global crossover. Besides, he has found other ways to communicate a homegrown aesthetic. Run It Up marches to the beat of Keralan chenda drums, while its video features martial artists from disparate corners of India. Cherukat performed it with a band of drummers at Coachella festival, his debut US gig. 'Most people don't know what is going on in my country,' he says. 'Maybe I can open up some doors, open up some eyes, break out of these bubbles and stereotypes.' Although not religious, Cherukat has a divine figure woven into his performing name. Over recent years, Hanuman, the simian-headed Hindu god of strength and devotion, has been employed everywhere from the car stickers of hypermasculine Indian nationalism to the bloody, satirical critique of Dev Patel's 2024 thriller, Monkey Man. Where does Hanumankind fit into this: traditionalist or progressive? 'I need to make music for myself first,' he says simply. 'But when you have a platform, you can bring about change through your words and actions.' Some fans were disappointed that he accepted the New York invitation from Modi – whose Hindu nationalist government has been accused of democratic backsliding and Islamophobia. Cherukat has defended his appearance, describing it as 'nothing political … We were called to represent the nation and we did that.' But today he claims his 'political ideology is pretty clear' to anyone who has been following his career. In one of his earliest singles, 2020's Catharsis, he rails against systemic corruption, police brutality and armed suppression of protest. 'I'm not just trying to speak to people who already agree with me,' he says. 'I'm trying to give people who are otherwise not going to be listening a chance to be like, 'OK, there is some logic to what he's saying.'' Monsoon Season, his new mixtape, is just out. It features the mellow likes of Holiday – performed on the massively popular YouTube series Colors – as well as raucous collaborations with US rap luminaries Denzel Curry and Maxo Kream. It is less a narrative album, more a compilation, with songs gathered over the years before the spotlight shone on him. 'I have a lot of memories of coming into Kerala during the monsoon,' says Cherukat of the project's name. 'You can have days where things are absolutely reckless, flooded, out of control. There can be days where you get introspective and think about life. There are days where you love the rain: it feels good, there's that smell in the air when it hits the mud, the soil, the flowers. Your senses are heightened. You can fall in love with that. Or it can ruin all your plans and you hate it.' Cherukat's knee will take some time to recover before he embarks on a North American tour later this year. It's clear he needs a break: not just to heal, but to continue processing fame, adapt to its changes and return to the studio. 'I'm still adjusting,' he says. 'The attention, the conversation, the responsibility, the lifestyle, all this shit. Things have been a little haywire. So I just want to go back to the source – and make music.' Monsoon Season is out now on Capitol Records/Def Jam India


The Guardian
35 minutes ago
- The Guardian
Kate Nash showcases her sleazy side: best podcasts of the week
Dig out the American Apparel dress, liquid eyeliner and Wayfarer sunglasses – the late 00s' indie sleaze movement is being celebrated for all its messy glory. Kate Nash – an OG sleazer – hosts this nostalgic new series about the scene, speaking to the likes of the Cribs' Ryan and Gary Jarman, Franz Ferdinand's Alex Kapranos and Razorlight's Johnny Borrell. It's enough to make you want to cut in a badly judged chunky fringe again. Hollie Richardson BBC Sounds, available from Monday 28 July This honest, conversational podcast breaks down taboos by talking to people about the loved ones they've lost. Host Jason Davidson is a social worker and in the latest episode Michael Palin (pictured right) talks to him about trying to come to terms with his wife's death – and why he feels it almost impossible to say 'I' instead of 'we'. It's a thoughtful look at his grief. Alexi Duggins Widely available, episodes weekly This enjoyably chatty look at the everyday products we take for granted combines history with product design. It opens with a look at the 'fabulous innovation' of the tin opener, running from how it wasn't created until 100 years after food tins were invented to its potential future: a luxury item, like 'the craft beer' of can-opening. AD Widely available, episodes weekly Keir Starmer may be in power now (and enjoying varying levels of success, depending on your views), but what of the Labour leaders of old? Izzy Conn of the University of London digs deep into the red team in this comprehensive pod, which begins after the second world war with Clement Attlee and the beginnings of the welfare state. Hannah J Davies Widely available, episodes weekly Sign up to What's On Get the best TV reviews, news and features in your inbox every Monday after newsletter promotion Widely available, episodes weekly This new podcast from Tortoise Investigates is about mothers who – like Australia's Kathleen Folbigg, whose case sets off this series – have been accused of murdering their children, and whether the experts are always right. The content is highly charged, but the questions it poses around the use of statistics in a court of law feel vital. HJD Widely available, episodes weekly