Bridging the Gap

Every bridge has a story

How many bridges must we cross without even thinking about it every single year?

How many bridges have we simply taken for granted throughout our lives?

Without bridges, let’s face it — we would be rather stuck. Everyone has their own story and purpose, even those that sadly fade into the background. Some bridges, however, do stand out and have successfully captured my thoughts, attention and emotions in the process.

Let’s begin with one of my more recent bridge crossing experiences — the hanging bridges in Costa Rica’s lush green paradise, Monteverde.

What makes these bridges so special is how close they allow you to get to the surrounding nature. Whilst I was admittedly a little disappointed with how few animals I actually saw, overlooking the forest canopies alone was spellbinding enough. Such green, such vibrancy, such beauty.

My wildlife spotting wasn’t a complete failure either, for it was from one of these bridges that I saw one of the most stunning little birds I’ve ever had the good fortune of laying eyes on — a quetzal. With an emerald green head, colourful plumage and delicately long and flourishing tail feathers, it was a sight for sore eyes for sure.

If you find yourself exploring Costa Rica, add this adventure to your itinerary. After all, what’s better than a bridge above the skies, welcoming you with a sprawling natural landscape that will take your breath away?

Whilst some bridges like these ones and those that took me over the tranquil waters of Croatia’s Plitvice Lakes National Park are all about the scenery, others serve an entirely different function altogether. Like a very special bridge in Istanbul, which spans two continents.

Whilst I only had one day (not enough!) to spend in Istanbul before my flight home following my tour of the gorgeously impressive Cappadocia region of central Turkey, I made sure to make the most of it. I’ll never forget my private tour of the beautiful Hagia Sophia, overlooking the equally fabulous Blue Mosque. Nor will I forget the colourful sights and sounds of the Grand Bazaar, or the clever salesman who sneakily and so convincingly tried to sell me one of his rugs after coaxing me into his home, tea in hand — of course.

Istanbul was full-on in the best of ways, but after a 4 am start and 12-hour bus journey across the country, I was also ready for a bit of relaxation. Which led me to a stroll down by the river, where I clocked eyes on the Bosphorus Bridge, the oldest and southernmost suspension bridge across the Bosphorus Strait that bridges the border between Europe and Asia. Had I had more time, I would have made the crossing, but alas, one can only do so much. Even now though, I still find it a little bizarre and amazing that one city — or even one country for that matter — can exist on two entirely different continents. Just another wonder of this big wide world I so love to explore.

One of my earliest foreign bridge memories is that of the Rialto Bridge over the famous canals of Venice.

I visited Venice on an art trip during my last year of secondary school, spending most of my days sitting by the water with a sketchpad, pencils and paints, trying to capture the town’s beauty as well as any amateur 15-year-old artist could. The results weren’t terrible, but they could have been better, especially as a particularly rainy week limited how much paper we could realistically expose to the elements without ending up a sad, smudgy mess.

This multi-school trip also offered me a reunion with an old friend from primary school whom I’d not seen since leaving Year 6, so that was another welcome bonus. I naturally crossed A LOT of bridges during our Venice trip, but Rialto (pictured) still is and always will be the most iconic of them all, despite the graffiti.

Perhaps the most poignant bridge I’ve visited was in Thailand — a whole 10 years after my time in Venice — with a name you may well recognise. And that was the bridge over the River Kwai. The actual bridge itself is an average sight, but the intrigue comes from the history behind its existence.

The bridge — much longer before — was constructed by the Japanese during WWII, supposed to transport cargo all the way through to India as part of their plan of attack. However, such an ambitious building project could not possibly come to fruition without some sacrifice.

When I consider the fact that so many slave labourers and prisoners of war, many of whom were younger than I am now, died during the construction of the original version of the bridge due to poor treatment, before it was bombed in 1944, it really makes my own problems pale in comparison. So much tragic history behind what looks like such an unassuming stretch of iron railway. Just another otherwise ordinary bridge, but with so much more meaning.

Bridges are everywhere, so next time, maybe we should all pay a little more attention. Who knows what stories and memories we might uncover?

Thank you for reading my little trip down memory lane. It has been nice to take part in another challenge that has me searching through my old photographs and recalling my experiences.

I’ve particularly enjoyed some of the other submissions too, like this absolutely fascinating piece by Serhii Onkov showing the beginnings of bridge contruction in Ukraine, before the War got in the way — with an extra little tribute to local cats too, which I always approve.

I also found myself gravitating towards this piece by Joel R. Dennstedt, for its celebration of bridges surrounded by nature, some of which look exactly like the kinds of places I would visit myself.