It's called the Portal. “A bridge to a united planet,” its creators say.
Every five minutes, it switches cities: Vilnius (Lithuania), Lublin (Poland), Dublin and Philadelphia – beaming live video from one to the next.
One week in, opinions are rotating just as fast.
Armed with a team of student journalists, we spent an hour watching the watchers and chatting to the wavers. What we found was a carousel of reactions: delight, confusion, indifference.
A teenager waves like it’s Eurovision. A pensioner mutters about potholes. A family returns for the third day running. A student questions the cost. The Portal reflects them all.
But they’re all stopping. Looking. Talking. And that, perhaps, is the point.
"It makes you think"
Katie and Lauren, 16 and 17, stopped by after college. "It's interactive, it's weird, it's brilliant," Katie said, barely pausing between words. "We have never seen anything like it in Ipswich. It's cool. It makes you think."
That reaction – the simple fact of something different existing in Ipswich – came up repeatedly. A visitor from London, in town to see family, seemed almost incredulous. "Why has no one done this before?" she asked. "I was surprised to see it in Ipswich instead of London."
For some, the Portal triggered something more personal. A second-generation Romanian woman stood quietly watching the Vilnius feed. "I saw someone in Vilnius and thought: what if that was my cousin?" she said. "It made me feel closer."
Nearby, a woman from Lithuania, the birthplace of the Portal, visited with her son specifically to see her brother on the other end. "I can see my brother – he is living there. It is nice. It is fun," she said. Has she seen him yet? "Not yet, but we're planning to. I just need to let him know it is here."
A mother from Cornwall met her London-based daughter halfway in Ipswich for what she called "a bit of a pilgrimage" to see the Portal together. "I think anything that brings people together is a good thing," the daughter said.
"A thousand potholes could have been fixed"
Not everyone stopped. Tony and Tamsin, mother and child, walked straight past. "We are not interested," Tony said when asked. "We've got bigger fish to fry. There are more serious issues in town. A thousand potholes could have been fixed for the cost of this."
The pothole argument came up often – a shorthand for deeper frustration about priorities. Will, a student, put it differently. "Spending money on this when people are homeless is a reminder of wealth inequality."
Yet even the critics acknowledged a possible upside. "It will probably attract tourism," Will admitted.
Silent waves and distant dreams
Without sound, the Portal forces communication through waves, signs and gestures. Which city is on screen often goes unnoticed. There is a small flag, but many miss it, left guessing whether they are waving at Dublin or Lublin.
The silence is both the point and the problem. Some find it liberating: a break from the noise of screens and social media. Others, like student Katja, find it "a bit cringey." She wanted more control: "It needs to be more like FaceCall where you can see yourself."
People have wishes for what they would like to see through the Portal. "Tropical sunshine," one said immediately. "Australia would be good."
A worker at Mrs Crepe, the Turkish crêperie on the Cornhill, had not noticed more customers yet. But she had a vision. "I would love to see Turkey on the screen," she said.
"For a little town with a big demographic, we actually get along pretty well," said another resident. "I think we do alright, really."
A woman from Nigeria, who now lives in Ipswich, had a simple wish. "I would love to see Lagos on there. That is my country, Nigeria. My people are there." A theme that was mirrored by many first, second and third generation immigrants we spoke to.
More locations are planned for South America and Asia, but for now, the feed remains firmly European and North American.
Watching the watchers
Ipswich's Portal has been notably calm compared to the chaos that engulfed Dublin and New York. When those two cities were linked earlier this year, the installation was temporarily shut down after people flashed body parts, held up images of the 9/11 attacks and mimed drug use. Philadelphia's Portal, shipped from New York, cracked before it even went live.
Ipswich, by contrast, has launched quietly.
"We've only seen one moony so far," came the deadpan remark from Ipswich Central's street team, patrolling in groups of five. It's early days but no other vandalism or low-level crime has yet been reported.
The Portal operates from 06:00-23:00, with CCTV in place. Other Portal locations have implemented blurring technology that activates if someone gets too close to the camera, though during an hour observing the Ipswich installation, the feed remained clear and stable throughout.
The Portal is part of the wider Digital Ipswich initiative, which is investing £2.34 million of Government Towns Fund support – drawn from a £25 million allocation – into digital placemaking across the town centre. The aim: to modernise Ipswich with interactive, inclusive and visually striking experiences. Alongside the Portal, the programme includes augmented reality trails, digital billboards and contemporary high-tech art installations designed to bring new energy to public spaces.
What does it mean?
A local family offered perhaps the most revealing comment about what the Portal represents. "I've just come back from university," one said. "I actually love Ipswich. I am such an advocate. When I'm away, I tell people: it's great, we are close to the beach."
Her mum highlighted a pattern. "We chose to live here. We love it and have a really positive attitude. But I've noticed people who have been here a long time talk the town down."
The bottom line
The Portal is a strange, slightly magical, slightly baffling thing. It's not the Eiffel Tower. It's not the London Eye. But it's ours. And it's doing something rare: giving people a reason to stop.
Not everyone likes it. Not everyone thinks it's worth the cost. But people are stopping. Watching. Talking.
That's the Portal's quiet power: it provokes. It stirs a kaleidoscope of reactions: bemusement, confusion, irritation, apathy, optimism. A reflection of Ipswich in 2025?
Most interestingly, opinions of the Portal nearly always reflect an individual's opinion of Ipswich. What you see depends on what you already believe about the town. If you think the town is going places, the Portal confirms it. If you think the council wastes money while neglecting basics, the Portal proves your point.
The Portal is expected to remain on the Cornhill for the foreseeable future. In a town centre still searching for a reason to linger, it offers something rare: a moment to look up, look out – and maybe, even look forward.
This feature was reported in collaboration with Youth Voices Matter, a community journalism programme being delivered in partnership with Ipswich.co.uk, ICM and Volunteering Matters.
