Part 1: Hiver
I don’t think about Hiversbridge as much as I used, but I still remember how I felt about it as a young man. Coming from the suburbs where everything was new, cheap and built low to the ground, there was something dizzying about the now ancient, towering structures. Each ornate and intricate, as if the architects had undertaken each design with sheer delight. It also moved you differently. It was a city you walked through – there was no choice to navigate it in any other way. Those were my first memories of the city, catching the tram down to Hiversport and wandering along the grand foreshore.
On the east bank of the river was a small park leading to River Beach. Someone, clearly with an entrepreneurial spirit, had built a small club there and at nights you could see a throng of drunken youths heading up to the tram way.
On the west of Hiversport lay West Beach, my personal favourite. You could see views across the bay from there, and even in the winter I used to find myself walking along the waterfront.
In the old days, long before I was born, this was the central hub of the city. Before the bridges were built, back when Hiversbridge was just Hiver, the ferry terminals were the grand station of the city. This is why there are no roads here, save for the Launch of Grand Avenue – everyone arriving was doing so on foot.
Hiver Station, though often referred to by locals as ‘Cathedral’ lies to the east of the city. It is an aspirational station, built to rival the ferry terminals to it’s south. However, it does not function as it’s builders may have wished. It sits to far to the east, away from the centre to be the bustling heart of a city. But it is a beautiful end to the rail lines that scatter the city.
The cathedral is funnily enough built by the same architect as Hiver Station. It lies on the edge of 2nd avenue.
If you head further west up 2nd, on the intersection with Grand Avenue, you come to Hiver Square. This is what I consider to be the heart of the city. It has changed much throughout history, currently dwarfed by modernist towers, but still very much in touch with the brownstone deco buildings that most associate with the city.
Standing on the tram tracks in the middle of the square, if you look west to east, you can see the Palace of Parliament leading down to the Cathedral. The original planners of the city intended this show the division between church and state.
If you look North to South you can see the Great Library leading down to the port. I’m not sure that this was designed with any such significance except for aesthetics. The Library itself sits in the immense Hiverspark. This is where I spent my summers in Hiversbridge, reading, smoking cheap ciggerettes, propped up against a Chestnut tree.
The city, in truth, isn’t designed for cars. While they can still drive down grand avenue, it’s by foot or by bike that the city really comes alive. Flanked by little alleyways and pedestrian thoroughfares, all full of little bars, restaurants and cafes. In the summer, especially, it is alive with sound.
Just north of the home of Hiver F.C are the three bridges. Despite what people may think, it is not the immense cable stayed bridge that takes the F1 over the river that gives the city its name – it is the old red rail bridge to its south.
I don’t think about Hiversbridge as much as I used to – the memories I have of the city are bittersweet. While it used to feel me with excitement and wonder, now I can barely look at the bridge without feeling a strange sadness.
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