Manchester’s Primark building has an incredible secret history behind it

Before Primark became the shining beacon of cheap, it was Lewis’s – and until around 10 years ago my mum still called it that.

It’s like how House of Fraser is still called Kendals or Starbursts called Opal Fruits, and I’m ‘just supposed to know’ what the heck she is on about.

The first Lewis’s to open outside of Liverpool – where it originated – selling men’s and boy’s clothing, was the Manchester branch, which opened its doors way back in 1877.

The company was known for its large, elaborate corporate events and they spent a huge amount on promotions, sales and definitely Christmas.

Lewis’s bought Selfridges in 1951, which was struggling back then. It became a part of the US retail giant Sears, and opened Miss Selfrige in 1996. From then, Lewis’s pretty much went downhill and ended up in the high street graveyard alongside C&A, Woolworths and most recently BHS.

One of the original entrance ways to the store, which was long and curved, can still be seen today if you notice the glass-covered walkways that extend from Burger King to Caffè Nero.

This sort of explains how you can go into Primark from the bus station and end up on Market Street, wondering what magic happened in between the aisles and aisles of cheap clothing that made you teleport to another street.

As a kid this was as mind bending as cinema complexes are to this day. I just don’t understand how they all fit ok?!

Anyway, if you’ve ever wondered why Caffè Nero looks like it’s just been plonked between two buildings, it’s because it was. Around the back of the coffee shop is the original glass walkway in all its glory.

Another impressive feat of the Primark building that it owes to Mr Lewis, is the massive dome on the top. It’s a huge and incredible bit of architecture that is pretty well hidden.

On the fifth floor of the building you’ll find what was once the grand ballroom, complete with a sprung dance floor and the concave side of that dome roof.

The ballroom was home to massive staff parties, summer balls and Christmas get-togethers, as well as being used as an exhibition hall for whatever was going on at the time.

Quite literally everything happened in this ballroom from football player autograph signings to dance contests.

It’s pretty much been left for decades now – mostly asbestos is to blame, and the fact that despite Strictly’s efforts no one ballroom dances anymore.

If you scuttle down the stairs to the basement of Primark, and I don’t mean the kid’s section, there’s a whole other floor below that.

The sub-basement floor, believe it or not, was once flooded as part of an elaborate effort to create a Venice-themed area complete with gondolas.

The story goes that the basement was flooded (probably still is now) and the good folk of Manchester were charged for a thrilling and yet simultaneously incredibly slow ride on a gondola. It didn’t stick around for too long as you can imagine.

In 1975, this basement became the location of an IRA bombing that targeted key points of Manchester and the rest of the UK in a vicious 3-week campaign.

In total, 19 people were injured by this, and the basement was boarded up and has been forgotten about ever since. You actually can’t find any pictures of it, it lives only in the memories of a very small population of Manchester.

Or at least you’d think it was boarded up.

At some point in the ’70s, Peter Stringfellow opened up Millionaire Club – a disco venue that was popular amongst all flare-wearing, flop-haired Mancs.

The club was located in the basement and pretty swiftly got a risqué reputation, from topless staff to regular strippers, as well as one bloke who robbed a Fiesta and tried to ram it through the entrance after being refused entry.

So next time you head to Primark to get some one quid knickers, think about all the tales that will be lurking in those walls, from gondola rides to nightclubs, ballrooms – and I can only imagine many ghosts…