Crossing Bridges

We crossed a lot of bridges in our travels; some of them were even physical ones.  Locations of each picture are in the alt text, if you hover your pointer over the image.

A few we didn’t cross at all, like this one which is part of a model train exhibit.

There were many that we passed under, as well.  Sometimes the underside of a bridge is more interesting than the side or top.

We went from massive, but delicate spans to incredibly stout, low ones.

Or small, and not so stout.

We walked on a surprising number of foot bridges.

While most had pleasing shapes, a few were colorful as well.

And a number made us a little nervous.

Or a lot nervous.

Some long, and some short.

Winding or crooked.

Europe in particular had a lot of old, ornate bridges where cities grew up around river commerce.

We crossed bridges that spanned large rivers.

And small canals.

Busy streets and lazy canals.

They crossed international borders. The bridge above crosses the Øresund Strait between Denmark and Sweden—it’s actually a tunnel on the Danish side, and then becomes a bridge partway across the strait.  The tunnel does not interfere with either ships or airplanes (the Copenhagen airport is quite close, and it’s puzzling to see a major bridge disappear into a hole in a small island as your plane is coming in to land).

Some bridges seemed to be a large part of the morning commute, like here in Amsterdam.

If you think about a bridge being a way to get from one place to another, then of course the most significant bridge we crossed was the trip itself.  We set off on the bridge without knowing where it might lead. It was crooked and winding and long; we met people crossing, both going our direction and not.  We learned that crossing isn’t always comfortable or easy, but there is always a reason to cross.   The other side isn’t always better, though it’s usually different.   By the time we reached the other side of our year of travel we had both crossed over and come back around full circle.  What had been familiar now felt jarringly alien.  The bridge had changed us.  But the good news is that we rolled it up behind us and carried it in our packs so you could walk this way with us.  You’re welcome to cross with us.