Viewed with a squint, in the dark, the great slag heaps of the Nord-Pas de Calais mining basin might take on the aspect of the Egyptian pyramids. Now these monuments to fossil fuel, in some cases over 140m high, have joined more than 900 properties on Unesco's swelling list of world heritage sites. So too have the old mines of Wallonia across the border in Belgium.
Britain can't get too sneery at the UN's cultural arm bowing to seven years' hard lobbying by mining officials in northern France. Unesco has already bestowed world heritage garlands on a swath of industrial Britain, including Ironbridge Gorge, Derwent Valley Mills, New Lanark, Saltaire and the Cornwall and West Devon mining landscape.
World heritage sites are perceived as wonders of the world but as well as its soft spot for historic heavy industry (German factories are well represented), Unesco has a morbid streak, and likes to document human horrors too. As well as Auschwitz, its list boasts 11 penal sites in Australia to which British convicts were dispatched, and Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela was incarcerated. In a further challenge to our conception of globally significant sites, there are well-argued calls for the Chernobyl nuclear disaster zone to be listed.
In Britain, there is certainly a long tradition of unlikely landmarks getting special recognition. It just goes to show that one person's "masterpiece of human creative genius" – Unesco's first criteria for world heritage inclusion – is another bloke's petrol station. Every year, a brutal new monstrosity causes a kerfuffle by gaining listed building status. Eventually, it seems, the likes of the Barbican Centre in London, Trellick Tower (the distinctive Kensington flats designed by Erno Goldfinger) and even the corrugated concrete signalbox outside Birmingham New Street station will become popularly appreciated as well as critically appraised.
Incredulity greeted English Heritage's listing of the 1,000-flat Park Hill estate in Sheffield, which became the largest listed building in Europe in 1998. But proving the adage that ridicule over a landmark's protected status is followed by new affection, the once-dilapidated flats are currently undergoing extensive redevelopment (made considerably more expensive by their listed status).
Even two petrol station canopies were listed this year. To be fair, Markham Moor, Nottinghamshire, and Red Hill, Leicestershire, are pretty retro-cool, harking back to an era when motoring was a joyous freedom rather than congested torture.
