A Bridge too Far

As promised, here are a couple of coups Marge and I managed.

We became involved with some political protesting a couple of years ago, which included some vigils in Parliament Square.

During the night, when a call of nature was required, we approached the police guard outside the Houses of Parliament and much to our delight, rather than directing us to the nearest public conveniences they escorted us inside, along the long corridor to the House of Lords and let us use the loos there!! Needless to say we were totally astonished, but far too well behaved to cause any major mayhem.
A short while later, some other police officers took us for a ride round the streets of Westminster in a patrol car, just because we asked. It would seem that sometimes, all their training goes out the window!

Some people obsess about water towers, and others adore pylons.
Whilst I appreciate the beauty in both, my abiding passion is motorway bridges.
When at school in the 6th form we went on a geography field trip to the Forest of Dean. As we approached Bristol on the M4 - from London - I piped up:
"These motorway bridges are really cool."
"Do you like them?" Miss B, the teacher, chirped from the driver's seat.
" My father designed them!"

I immediately got beaten up by the rest of the girls for being a creep, but what happened next was one of the most memorable occasions of my life, and one that The Bitch Pack still talks about.
We stopped at the service station on the east side of the old Severn bridge crossing and were taken up the East tower of the suspension bridge by Miss B's father, who was the chief engineer of that section of the M4 and Severn Bridge.
Standing at the top of the suspension tower, with no safety rail and a strong wind blowing was scary to say the least. The views were amazing as we got out our pencils and pads and drew field sketches of the Severn estuary. I can't imagine it happening today with all the health and safety issues in place.

So, with my keen eye for bridge construction firmly implanted it was only a matter of time before an opportunity arose to use a motorway bridge or two for a stunt, and thus it was that Marge and I found ourselves in a situation that nearly ended us in trouble.

This is not the bridge in question, but it is rather attractive, and I'm wondering if the notorious bridge blipper Jacklloyd may be able to identify it.

However it's getting rather late, so the tale of our bridges will just have to wait until tomorrow!

Sleep tight blippers.