Cologne Dazzles

They say that you never forget your first time – and for me that was in Seville. While strolling along in the unfiltered sunshine, sharp flashes of light caught my eye. This was it, this was what I had heard about: the bridge of locks, the bridge of hearts, a new trend that was somehow already a tradition.

For the uninitiated, lovers sign their names onto a padlock and then throw the key into the river below. Authorities subsequently remove the locks.

A few months later in Paris, I had my second taste.On the intimate Pont des Arts, in the world’s most romantic city, a string of metal locks shimmered from the railings.

Then I visited Cologne, where passion, not to mention, imagination runs wild.

Cologne doesn’t limit itself to padlocks. The Hohenzollernbrücke Bridge excels itself, not only in terms of the length of its name, but also in terms of declaring undying love.

Cologne Says It With Handcuffs

Hohenzollernbrücke has padlocks, alright. It also has handcuffs, tin cans, bicycle chains and padlock formations. Glitter, gold and gratuitous gemstone stickers. Wilting roses, weathered writing and rusting romance.

A modern blacksmith-of-love sits at one end of the bridge, carving initials into padlocks, while a rose-seller approaches from the opposite direction.

The Hohenzollernbrücke Bridge excels itself, not only in terms of the length of its name, but also in terms of declaring undying love. 

Perhaps things have got out of hand, especially given that Federico Moccia only invented the “tradition” a few years ago as a handy plot device for his novel and subsequent film Ho Voglia de Te.

The Padlock Bridge, Cologne

Creative Padlocks

Love overflows in Cologne...

Ah, well. True love conquers all, as they say.

Or does it? Perhaps I’m not alone in raising an eyebrow of cynicism at so much symbolism.

Stencilled onto the tarmac walkway lies the following message: “Love is only a four-letter word.”

...but not for everyone

I travelled to Cologne as a guest of the Eurostar Explorer team, although as usual, all opinions are my own. I have no relationship with any padlock sellers, engravers, florists or gemstone sticker salespeople, which is probably just as well.

This post on padlocks in Cologne has also joined the happy ranks of the Lonely Planet’s Blogsherpa carnival Love on the Road, hosted this time at Barefoot Inked. Head over there to read more traditions about love from around the world.

Two suspension bridges connect England to Wales, reaching lazily across the Severn Estuary and charging drivers £5.4o to cross the border. It’s a stormy, exposed stretch and I’ve never quite brought myself to face the challenge of walking from one side to the other.

Protected by the metal and glass of a moving vehicle, however, I’ve watched the waters race by many times, particularly in winter when the Christmas and New Year dash to see friends and family straddles both the land of the rose and the home of the red dragon.

Perhaps one of my New Year’s Resolutions should be to complete the journey on foot, at least once.

We’ll see. In the meantime, warmest wishes for a very happy 2010, wherever you’re travelling to.

UPDATE: The toll increased on New Year’s Day to £5.50 according to my Cardiff sources. Ouch.

Most riverside walks in Seville take in the city’s historical sights, such as the Torre del Oro or the notorious bullring.

A little further out, however, Seville reveals its modern face, the lights and the energy of a city on the up. Starting in the Parque del Alamillo, by the Olympic Stadium, we navigated by following this striking metal symbol: the Puente Alamillo.

Known locally as the Harp Bridge, this landmark formed part of the regenerative Expo 92, designed to transport people to and from a formerly deserted island. Today, it’s also an impromptu playground, with children scrambling up the central pillar and sliding back down. 

Back on dry land, meanwhile, Seville’s urban artists decorate the concrete walls in their own way.

Puente del Alamillo - A Modern Landmark in Seville

For more travel photos on this Photo Friday, head over to DeliciousBaby. Buen viaje!

Except that with a moment’s pause, I can think of so many bridges that became global icons: Sydney Harbour, the Golden Gate, Brooklyn and London. What’s the missing word in that ensemble? No, I’m not going to state the obvious. Oh, alright, I am – it’s bridge. It seems that when engineers and architects combine robust service with art, they create a legacy that touches our souls.

The Pont du Gard in southwest France scores highly on both counts. Not only does this Roman aqueduct still stand after 2000 years, built from stone without mortar, carrying water for over 30 miles while only dropping 17cm in height and capable of delivering 5 million gallons of water per day, but…it is beautiful.

A riverside walk at sunset reveals the artist’s palette of flaming oranges and reds glowing against the creamy arches. UNESCO listed this bridge as a World Heritage Site in 1985 and my only criticism against this decision would be to ask – what took them so long?

Even geniuses get frustrated by administrative problems…

The Clifton Suspension Bridge stretches across the Avon Gorge to form one of Bristol’s most well-known symbols. I’ve stood here before, gazing through 76 metres of air to the churning river below. I’ve also driven across its narrow, delicate frame, as one of the 11 000 or so vehicles that shudder from one hulk of dry land to the other each day.

Incredibly, this bridge was designed over 150 years ago for horses and carts, not impatient commuters. A wealthy wine merchant funded a competition through his will, inviting engineers to submit their plans for crossing the gorge. Years of political squabbling followed until a 24 year old man convinced the judges that a suspension bridge would be possible. His name was Isambard Kingdom Brunel, a genius who would go on to design much of the Great Western Railway and the first steamship to cross the Atlantic.

This was Brunel’s first major commission and the foundation stone was laid later that year. However, bureaucracy and administrative headaches frustrated progress and the city abandoned the scheme. Brunel moved onto bigger and better things, creating a legacy of his own. After his death, Bristol regrouped and construction began again. Clifton Suspension Bridge opened in 1864 and has been functional ever since.

An ‘Interpretation Centre’ is open most days at the Leigh Wood end, although parking can be difficult. A stroll along the riverbank gives the best views of the bridge, flanked by rows of coloured houses and showing those 76 metres of air.