Blogathon Vancouver 2008: "B" is for Burrard Bridge
byOkay, I know this is the second bridge post in the A-Z of Metro Vancouver series but it sure adds a nice element of alliteration to my site.
The Burrard Bridge was opened July 1, 1932 with an official ribbon cutting ceremony with Mayor Louis D. Taylor. “At a civic reception later, in the Hotel Vancouver, a replica of the bridge was unveiled. It was made of sugar.” [VancouverHistory]
Apparently up on the giant concrete arms (that mask all of the steel holding the structure) “the arms of the City of Vancouver are carved, flanked by windows which overlook the bridge deck. On the two piers which support the gallery are molded the prows of boats with figureheads to represent Captain George Vancouver and Captain Harry Burrard.” According to my favourite Vancouver History resource however, all the hubub about Mr. Burrard is slightly misplaced. “Harry Burrard never came within 5,000 kilometres of this area. He’d been an acting lieutenant with Vancouver on the Europa in the West Indies; George was just honoring an old chum.”
With about 65,000 people passing over the bridge daily, it’s a prominent landmark in Vancouver – and viewable any time of day on one of the city’s best webcams, the KatKam (from which you can see tonight’s fireworks display in English Bay).
For future plans involving the Burrard Bridge and its infamous bike lanes, check out this post on Urban Vancouver. I also recommend the following for Vancouverites and anyone visiting the area a) take a water taxi under the bridge, heading over to Granville Island or b) walk across the bridge if you can, it’s a pretty neat experience.
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B.
The name “Burrard” always held such fascination. Perhaps it was the way the word rrrrrolled off the tongue. Burr-ARD … Burr-ARD …
A part of it is because looking out my bedroom, I could see a part of Burrard Inlet and clear out towards the North Shore mountains.
The bridge is so beautiful, and when my friends used to live across from the Molson Brewery on West 2nd, crossing the bridge on a sunny summer day from downtown to False Creek was always such a thrill. I know you don’t tire of it, because I live the thrill of the memory every time I see photos taken by John, Beck, Duane, etc. of the bridge or from the bridge. Although I’m thousands of kilometres away, all it is is one picture, and I’m immediately standing mid-span, looking out into English Bay.