My friend Raymond was on the phone.

“How do you fancy leading a walk with me?”

To let you understand, Raymond and I walk most weekends throughout Scotland with a large walking group, however, I just tag along with the rest because everyone knows I could get lost in a shopping centre never mind up on the hills, which was why I was rather bemused by his suggestion.

“Em……” I hesitated.

“Listen Janice,” he added.

“It’s called 22 Bridges across the River Clyde, so even you can’t get lost.”

“OK Raymond,” I agreed before he added.

“So I’ll do the first bridge and you do the second.”

“Eh?......”

“Yes, we need to give a short talk on the history of each bridge, so I’ll do the odd numbers and you do the even numbers.”

Well I certainly never saw myself as a City of Glasgow Tour Guide, but agreed all the same.

Sunday morning and around 50 people turned up for the seven mile walk, and I was starting to get nervous.

After all, how do you make 22 bridges sound interesting?

My friend Mae joined us and looked as though she was trekking to Mount Everest, laden with a huge, heavy rucksack filled with everything but the kitchen sink!

“I wasn’t sure if I needed my walking poles,” she stated.

“No Mae, we are walking on pavements and cycle paths.” I assured my pal that there were no hidden dangers on this three hour stroll.

Starting at Dalmarnock, Raymond gave his chat on the history of the first of two Dalmarnock bridges, and after a short round of applause we walked on to the next bridge where I did my short spiel.

A few bridges later we came to the Rutherglen Bridge where I babbled on about its construction.

“…..and the piers were founded on steel caissons sunk into the rock.”

“Mae.” I decided to wind up my pal and see if she was paying attention.

“What are caissons?”

Silence.

Mae stared at me for ages until I gave a brief explanation on the engineering term.

Next Raymond chatted about the Polmadie Bridge and the St Andrew’s Suspension Bridge and again I tested my pal.

“Mae, what is a suspension bridge?”

“It’s a….it’s a……it’s a…..”

We laughed and joked until we came to ‘my’ next bridge.

“Now this bridge is called the Tidal Weir and Pipe Bridge which was built in 1901 and rebuilt in 1949.”

Mae was now attempting to mingle in with the crowd to avoid me, but I shouted.

“Mae, what is a Weir?”

This time, quick as a flash she answered.

“Well Janice, its purpose is to make sure that some water levels are wee’er than others.”

The group were in hysterics and I had to laugh at my pals’ quick thinking.

A while later we reached the beautiful grounds of the People’s Palace, the sun was scorching and we were in much need of a cool refreshment.

Enjoying a well-earned rest, we chatted about the bridges we had discovered so far when one young walker called Lynn turned to me.

“Janice, where is the talking bridge in Glasgow?”

“Talking bridge?” I thought I had misheard her.

”Yes, no-one believes me, but I was on my way home one night and I’m sure I came across a talking bridge.”

“Lynn.” I grinned.

“I reckon you must either have been on heavy medication or had one too many because I have never heard of a talking bridge in Glasgow.”

And on asking about, no one else had heard of a talking bridge either.

Bridge after bridge after bridge we chatted our way over and around them all attempting to use our wit and humour to keep the attention of the walkers, until finally I came to my last bridge.

“This bridge was built to link the Scottish Exhibition and Conference Centre with the Glasgow Garden Festival site,” I informed the crowd.

“Does anyone know what it’s called?”

By now Mae was hiding right at the back of the crowd and avoiding all eye contact with me.

“That’s right Ann,” I smiled.

“This is Bell’s Bridge which was inspired by my grandfather Sir James Haemorrhoid Bell.”

My attempt at humour was well received by most of the group who were now looking rather weary in the blazing heat, but soon perked up when Raymond announced that next was the very last bridge and that afterwards everyone was welcome to join us at a local bar for refreshments and live music.

Sipping a much-needed drink I turned to one of the group.

“You’re from Perth then,” I confirmed.

“Yes Janice, I travelled down especially for this walk as I am and engineer and fascinated by the construction of bridges.”

Suddenly my heart sank as I recalled all the gibberish nonsense I had spat out throughout the last three hours.

“Argh Raymond ….. I wish I’d struck to the script” I moaned.

“Me too Janice.”

“Me too.”