London Bridge thankfully not fallen down, news at eleven — I have always loved bridges, partially due to an upbringing near one of the most elegantly lovely examples of same yet created, the gorgeous and skyline defining San Diego-Coronado Bay Bridge. And of course I knew about the song, who doesn’t? That darn bridge must have been falling down to hundreds of fair ladies in the course of my youth (or something like that).

It’s a common enough trivia observation that London Bridge itself is now no longer in London but over at Lake Havasu, Arizona — through chance I happened to have seen it myself many years back, when a trip down the Colorado River with my Boy Scout troop ended up at the lake and near the bridge itself. My memory of it is somewhat sketchy in that I had burned my hand the night before and I was more concerned with the swelling blisters I was miserably suffering.

I have not been to the Tower Bridge itself yet, I know it’s there and all but so far I’ve no reason to cross there. I have crossed that one bridge near the Eye a slew of times due to the train and tube connections at Waterloo, and there are a couple of other bridges which I’ve walked across further east down the river, though annoyingly the names escape me — instead I just remember the joy of idly walking across and spending time doing nothing but looking at the river.

I do however remember the Millennium Bridge — I was looking forward to crossing that when I was visiting the Tate Modern, only to find out about the slight problem at the time in 2000 which prevented it from being used lest it collapse and cause worry. Between that and that Dome thing I had to wonder.