I LOVE bridges. I love the way they impose themselves on the landscape, defying nature and gravity.

I love the thrill of excitement mixed with fear you experience as you place your foot (or tyre) on to the structure.

Crossing a bridge is an act of faith. You are putting your trust in the competence of the engineer and the construction workers who erected the structure. From little stone bridges fording streams to ingenious modern cityscape structures, I love them all.

I am fascinated by the creativity of the engineers who sweated over the designs and the workers who built them.

I was put in mind of this the other day as I travelled over the Runcorn Widnes bridge and spotted the beginnings of work on the new Mersey crossing. Not having a technical understanding of how these things work, I’ll be fascinated to see its progress.

The Mersey Gateway project is due to be finished by autumn 2017 when a new six-lane toll bridge between Runcorn and Widnes will open. This will, of course, take pressure off the Silver Jubilee bridge.

A nice touch is the Mersey Gateway Visitor Centre at the Catalyst museum in Widnes where you can go and find out more about the work. You can also take a rooftop tour to watch the work across the Mersey as it happens.

Like all advances in technology and human endeavour, it took a visionary person to take risks and to go against the wisdom of the day to lift bridge building into the extraordinary.

Although not the first iron bridge, Thomas Pritchard’s construction in the Severn gorge in Shropshire was the world’s first iron arch bridge, opening in 1781. And a masterpiece of engineering it proved. The area was well known for its iron smelting over the centuries and the settlement where Pritchard’s bridge stands took its name from the structure... Ironbridge.

But can you imagine being the first to walk across it?

There are many bridges in the world I long to see. New York’s Brooklyn Bridge and the Golden Gates Bridge in San Francisco among them.

But for me, none compares with Isambard Kingdom Brunel’s stupendous (even 150 years on) Clifton Suspension Bridge, near Bristol. I don’t think any photograph can prepare you for quite how remarkable this bridge is.

I have been across it several times, in car and on foot, and each time I marvel at Brunel’s genius.

I also enjoy a slight shiver as I gaze down into the Avon Gorge, which it spans.

Never mind the cables holding up the bridge, for me the real suspension is the holding of my breath.