I started thinking when I saw this great photo of the London Bridge, over at Kisslets at Home:
When I was younger, maybe in middle school or high school, I was obsessed with bridges. In fact my love of them is what made me decide on engineering as a course of study and a career (well, that and my love of roller coasters).
It’s actually sort of funny, that I loved bridges so much, while my mom was terrified of them. When we would go on our vacation every year, we had to drive over the Hudson river to access the vast expanse of the rest of the country. We had to cross the bridges both leaving and coming back, whether we took trips to the West (Yellowstone, Yosemite, Mount Rushmore, Salt Flats at the Great Salt Lake, Grand Canyon, Las Vegas, Golden Gate Bridge), or the South (Alamo, New Orleans, Disney, and Kitty Hawk/Kill Devil Hills), or even the Midwest or MidAtlantic (Cedar Point, Poconos Mountains, Washington DC, Strasburg Railroad). We had been to all of those places and more by the time I graduated high school!
I don’t know how my mom managed to survive all of these vacations despite her very strong fear of heights. Roads on top of cliffs in Yellowstone, sheer cliffs mere inches away at the Grand Canyon, sky high bridges in New York or California – she was terrified every time but still managed to be up for the next adventure. She has actually become much less afraid of heights as time has progressed, so I might want to try to convince her to visit some of the more impressive ones while we’re in Europe.
She’ll probably agree to see bridges like the London Bridge, because it looks sturdy and is fairly low to the water. But I don’t think she’ll go for this one in France: