london’s bridges are falling down
In 2022, I moved to South London. As a North Londoner born and bred, this was not a decision I took lightly. Crossing the river is one thing. Moving permanently to the other side is quite another. It felt less like relocating and more like defecting.
But I moved for love. And love, as we know, is a drug. Under its influence, otherwise sensible people make decisions they would never make with a cold and sober mind. And so I moved to Wimbledon to be with my now wife. I have since been told that I am not allowed to call Wimbledon “Saaf Landan”, presumably because its residents have carefully cultivated a lifestyle somewhere between Sloane Ranger and Cotswolds cosplay. Living south of the river, however, does teach you one important thing: London is held together by bridges, and Londoners are held hostage by them.
There are 35 crossings of the Thames in London, but only around 20 carry cars. That sounds like plenty until two of them close. As I write this, Hammersmith Bridge and Prince Albert Bridge are both closed to motorists. The result is that driving from South London to North London has become an exercise in endurance. You leave home at 9am and, by the time you arrive, you have reconsidered your marriage, your career and whether the destination was worth visiting in the first place.
Hammersmith Bridge has been closed to motorists since April 2019. The estimated cost of repairing it is £300 million. Prince Albert Bridge has been closed since February 2026, with repairs estimated at £8.5 million. Between them, we are looking at £308.5 million. That is not nothing. But it is also not exactly the kind of money that should bring a capital city to its knees.
Since Hammersmith Bridge closed, Britain has sent roughly £25 billion in support to Ukraine. Fine. I understand the argument. A smaller country has been invaded by a larger one and we should help it defend itself. But I would suggest that the government can hold two thoughts in its head at once: we can help Ukraine and fix a bridge in Hammersmith. It is, after all, rather difficult to claim that we are a functioning global city when crossing the Thames requires the logistical planning usually reserved for leaving London on a Bank Holiday weekend.
London's bridges are old. The average age of the crossings along the Thames is around 103 years. This is not necessarily a problem. London itself is old. The trouble is that London appears to have adopted the quintessentially British belief that if you ignore something for long enough, it will either fix itself or become someone else's problem.
At this rate, London will eventually become two independent states, like north and south Sudan. North London will have the restaurants, galleries, airports and Royal Parks. South London will have a couple of bakeries selling expensive sourdough.
Of course, there is always someone who will say: “Just take the Tube, or cycle.” I would love to. Unfortunately, my job involves cameras, lenses, tripods, lights and various other pieces of equipment that I need for work. Equipment I cannot transport on a Lime bike.
And even if I could, I wouldn't necessarily want to. I love driving. I find it therapeutic. I like London viewed from behind a windscreen. I like being able to easily stop somewhere on the way. I like the privacy a car affords you on your commute. Perhaps this is terribly unfashionable. Perhaps I am part of the problem. Perhaps I should be riding a bicycle, wearing lycra and explaining to strangers how much better my life has become since I stopped owning a car. But we are supposed to live in a democracy. And democracy, among other things, means having choices.
The answer cannot simply be to make driving increasingly difficult and then congratulate ourselves for having solved congestion. London is one city. It should function like one. It’s bridges are falling down, and nobody in Westminster seems especially bothered.