Bridging the gap...

The Humber Bridge is 25 years old this weekend. Yippee doo. Naturally, there's a party taking place over three days, starting Friday, although most of the decent stuff is on the southbank (we've got some BBC Look North nonsense and a load of old duffers abseiling with the help of the Royal Marines over here). I stood on top of the north bank tower a few years ago and can assure you that it is as high as it looks. We went up in the smallest elevator I've ever been in, which just squeezed in two people in safety helmets nose-to-nose. I was left at the top in a small, claustrophobic, holding room on my own while the bloke showing us around nipped back down for the photographer. When they got back he opened the door onto the platform and we nearly blew off. At the same time (well, not exactly the same time) we journeyed into the road sections, which was a rather trippy experience. So, anyway, I was at the bridge today, with my camera, which was really an excuse to nip to the nearby pub and have a lager in the glorious sunshine. Sitting in the shadow of the bridge it's hard not to be bowled over by the sheer scale of this magnificent engineering feat. But ultimately, 25 years on, it still doesn't really serve much of a purpose other than being a spectacle to drink by.