Things I actually like about living in the Netherlands, Part III

My first “proper” job (as opposed to my paper round and 2-year, illegal stint as a cinema usher) involved compiling a database of bridges for Norfolk County Council. This was back in 1989; Excel was unheard of and computer storage consisted of backing everything up on a tape streamer at the end of each day and sending it off to a bunker so that it was protected in the event of a nuclear attack. I spent my days looking through huge tomes and transferring the information contained therein into my database: bridge type, material, parish, number of spans, owner etc. At one point, I knew more about pipe drains and marsh culverts in Terrington St Clement than anyone else alive. And there was the excitement of my first business trip – off to Ipswich to inspect Suffolk County Council’s fancy new bridges database! Ah, the excitement . . .

Since then, I’ve been fascinated by bridges and have tried to include viewings of key structures on most of my vacations (I’m very excited about visiting San Francisco, obviously). And the Netherlands is full of them: 18th century “magere” (skinny) bridges over major rivers, hump-back canal bridges decorated with strings of lights, and modern, harp-like bridges that seem to float above the flat Dutch countryside. Best of all, though, is the road bridge near my office. It rises and falls several times each hour to allow the massive transport barges through on their way to the IJ. It carries tram tracks and wires that disconnect and reconnect smoothly and impressively. And it usually contains half a dozen pigeons that calmly perch on the underside of the bridge and enjoy the ride up and down. I don’t even mind waiting for it on my way to lunch, happy to watch such hypnotic poetry in motion. It’s a beautiful piece of urban engineering, one that I would be proud to catalogue in a database.