London Bridge


17/09/2016 by Carl Reynolds

Not the one in London. And who knows why it’s called London Bridge. The Victorians named it. It doesn’t look like London Bridge; none of the manifestations. But it is so called. And one Saturday afternoon, that seductive siren, Sophie called us to swim from Peak Tor Cove to London Bridge and back. And we don’t know why it’s called Peak Tor neither, but I’d been mistakenly calling it Imperial Quay; as it’s down the hill from the Imperial Hotel.

Still. On a low spring tide we stumbled in and swam over ranges of mermaid hair and kelp along tidally scoured rocks, through the London Bridge eye and back. Via a few stops to ooh and argh at squirting Dead Mens Fingers, caves, fissures and figures variously geologically marvellous. And a ginger arse to the tourist boat.


2 thoughts on “London Bridge

  1. David Pendleton says:

    If the Victorians named it could it be from the nursery rhyme? London Bridge is falling down, falling down ….

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Places to swim etc


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