Millenium Bridge

No prizes for guessing that the Millennium Bridge went up over the river Ouse in the year 2000. Before that, to cross the river near Fulford you’d have to walk all the way around, using a bridge closer to the town centre. This took about an hour. And was my route to school.

When it went up it was innovative - oh my god I’m writing about bridges, what has happened to me - in its design. Suspended by cables on one side, the bridge moves with the breeze and bounces to the pounding of people walking and cycling across it. It’s lit up (usually, when they’re working), by colourful lights at night and makes a pretty view when you hit the curve of the river and it comes into sight.

It’s peaceful and pretty, you can sit on the wooden blocks lining one side - if you’re brave lean back against the wire mesh - and watch the world go by. Boats pass below while clouds form above and reflect on the surface of the water creating a pretty scene.

It’s reliably gorgeous whatever time of day you come. I’ve sat there at dawn and watched the sun rise over the water, and I’ve shivered there at 1am gazing up at the stars.

As a practicality, the bridge made my life easier, and as a destination, it’s situated in my favourite part of the city. A park on one side and open swathes of grass common on the other, summer days could be spent eating ice cream and swinging into the water from crudely made rope swings. Walking home from town after a date, it’s a scenic place to linger before saying goodnight.

Now, the Millennium Bridge serves as the tipping point for my favourite walk in the city: a circle around the river. In Autumn, the oak trees that line the route shed golden red leaves to crunch and stomp through, and the biting cold air feels fresh and clean by the water. Eventually the bridge peeps into view, lit up, or not, and I’ll cross it before making my way back down the other side of the river toward the city centre.