I first saw love locks, or padlocks used as declarations of eternal love, in South Korea. The wire fence on the N'Seoul Tower overlooking the city has thousands of padlocks and bike chains affixed to it by Korean lovers. I thought it was an adorable idea (because I thought Koreans were adorable).
Then I started seeing padlocks on bridges everywhere: in Rome, Prague, Cologne and on the Pont des Arts in Paris. The novelty wore off, and I stopped looking for them and taking pictures.
That is, until I arrived in Ljubljana, Slovenia, the first stop on this year's Big Trip. In the pristine, charming center of this little gem of a city, one bridge made me sit up and take notice of love locks again. It's called Mesarski Most, or Butchers' Bridge.
Then I started seeing padlocks on bridges everywhere: in Rome, Prague, Cologne and on the Pont des Arts in Paris. The novelty wore off, and I stopped looking for them and taking pictures.
That is, until I arrived in Ljubljana, Slovenia, the first stop on this year's Big Trip. In the pristine, charming center of this little gem of a city, one bridge made me sit up and take notice of love locks again. It's called Mesarski Most, or Butchers' Bridge.
At first glance it looks like a fairly small and ordinary bridge, marked only by the be-tailed bronze figure who looks like he's ah-ah-ah-ah-stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
The ubiquitous padlocks are present, some of them hung rather unimaginatively along the steel ropes of the bridge. But as far as the art of love-locking is concerned, these are the low-hanging fruit.
Look closer. Because these babies are where you want to lock your love.
