We’ve just updated our profile image, and at one point we were planning on it to be a photograph of the three Forth Bridges in Edinburgh — something we’re still very much hoping to do in January. But in the end, this image of the Dom Luís I Bridge in Porto felt more appropriate in almost every way.
This is a bridge that doesn’t just serve the city — it explains it.
At first glance, it’s an extraordinary piece of 19th-century engineering: a narrow, high steel arch spanning the Douro, with views that are frankly breathtaking. But its real significance lies in how it has evolved, and what that evolution says about transport, space, and symbolism.
The upper deck of the bridge was originally a single carriageway for general traffic. Over time, it became obvious that it was simply too narrow for modern road use. Rather than forcing more cars through an unsuitable structure, the decision was taken to close it to private traffic and convert it for tram — now Metro — use only, with pedestrian pavements on either side.
This change did not happen in isolation, nor was it inevitable. When the upper deck of the Dom Luís I Bridge was closed to general traffic, the city made a deliberate policy choice to replace that lost capacity by building the Ponte do Infante — moving from a single carriageway crossing to a dual carriageway. In doing so, Porto did not merely accommodate existing traffic; it actively induced additional demand. An alternative approach was entirely possible: the bridge could have been closed to private vehicles without replacement, allowing through-traffic to use the surrounding motorway ring, while discouraging movement within that ring through filtered permeability. Cities such as Groningen in the Netherlands have demonstrated how this approach can transform urban mobility and make cycling the dominant mode. Porto instead chose continuity of road capacity, with all the consequences that decision entails.
Is Cycling Allowed?
Cycling, however, sits awkwardly in this picture. People do cycle across the Dom Luís I Bridge — despite signage banning it — because it is the most direct route. Yet cycling has never been properly catered for here.
The Ponte do Infante has no cycle lanes, the lower deck of the Dom Luís I Bridge remains open to general traffic, and the height difference between river level and upper deck is substantial. Expecting most people to cycle that climb is unrealistic.
That height difference is also why the funicular exists, quietly reinforcing the point that vertical movement is just as important as horizontal movement in Porto.
And yet — despite all these tensions — the bridge works reasonably well.
- It works because it’s narrow.
- It works because it prioritises people and public transport.
- It works because it forces the city to reveal its geography rather than flatten it.
More than almost any landmark I can think of, the Dom Luís I Bridge shows how transport infrastructure can become the symbolic heart of a city. It captures Porto’s density, its topography, its history, and its daily life in a single structure. This isn’t a bridge you pass over without thinking. It’s a bridge that makes you stop, look, and understand where you are.
That’s why it belongs as a profile image. Not because it’s beautiful — though it undeniably is — but because it represents how movement, constraint, and adaptation shape cities far more deeply than architecture alone.