Architecture critic Peter Murray draws a comparison between a bridge that ties London together and a street that splits it apart

My wonder is the connection between St Paul's Cathedral and Tate Modern, made possible by the Millennium Bridge. I love the bridge, but that is not the point; the important thing is its impact on the way that London works. The bridge draws the banks of the Thames together, it funnels commuters, tourists and locals from the rich City of London to regenerating Southwark and it connects a temple of God to a temple of art. Until 1750, London Bridge was the only way to cross the river, and it was used by drovers taking their livestock into the City. To launch this year's London Biennale, Norman Foster will be leading a flock of 60 Herdwick sheep across his Millennium Bridge in celebration of the new found ease with which people can move safely around the city.


Tight connection
Tight connection

The Millennium Bridge was designed by Arup and Foster and Partners. Three days after it opened in June 2000 the £18m structure had to be closed because it quickly became apparent that a high volume of people walking across in step could cause the entire bridge to swing from side to side. After dampers were fitted it reopened, and is now a favourite route between St Paul’s and the Tate Modern.


My blunder runs beneath the access route to the Millennium Bridge and eastwards to the Tower of London. It is Upper Thames Street, a busy dual carriageway that splits the city in two, cutting off the river and creating a barren strip to the south of the business district. While it is spanned by a number of buildings, these can do little to heal this hideous scar.


Long division
Long division

Upper Thames Street, which stretches from Fish Street Hill to Blackfriars is first mentioned in 1799. It was reconstructed after the Second World War as a traffic artery, making it a difficult road to cross without the benefit of an underpass.