Iron, Water, and a City That Earns You Over
The first thing I saw from my hotel room was a bridge.
St Andrew’s Suspension Bridge spanned the River Clyde just outside my window, its wrought-iron frame catching the afternoon light in a way that stopped me mid-unpack. Built between 1853 and 1855 by engineer Neil Robson, it was not designed to be beautiful. It replaced a busy ferry crossing and carried workers from Bridgeton and Calton to the factories of Hutchesontown. Pure industrial necessity. And yet there it was — genuinely elegant.
That combination — beauty that was never trying to impress anyone — turned out to be Glasgow in miniature.