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Bridget has eaten a scrumptious truck again.
This week the Muizenberg truck-eating bridge claimed another unsuspecting truck. Within minutes Facebook was full of photographs of her with a fresh “meal” in her mouth.
You don’t have to believe in monsters. You don’t need sci-fi films, aliens or fantasy creatures. We have Bridget, made of steel and concrete, living quietly under the railway line in Muizenberg.
She looks harmless enough, but get your height calculations wrong and she will absolutely eat your truck for breakfast.
The latest victim rolled toward her with confidence. Perhaps the driver thought, “We’ll fit.” Bridget, who has heard that before, thought otherwise.
Crunch.
Another tidy serving added to Bridget’s long metallic menu.
She isn’t fussy. Sometimes she just has a little nibble — a soft roof shave, as seen in those photos where the top looks almost professionally removed.
Other times it’s a full meal, the truck wedged so tightly that tyres must be deflated and pride quietly packed away before it can be freed.
She has sampled delivery trucks, moving vans, construction vehicles and even a grader once, which she briefly kept trapped like a trophy catch.
Before anyone says, “But there are warnings!” — oh, there are warnings.
Big signs. Flashing lights. Radar and detection systems. Red signals that trigger when a vehicle is too high. City officials have thrown serious technology at what might politely be called The Bridge Diet Programme.
There is even a clearly marked alternative route nearby — Albertyn Road — where trucks of any height can cross the railway line safely.
And yet… Bridget still dines.
Some drivers blame GPS. Some think speed is the solution. Some seem to believe vehicle height is merely a suggestion.
And then there’s the awkward truth that many drivers don’t own the trucks. Who cares? The insurance will pay. Bridget lures the clowns, cowboys, daredevils, kamikazes, speedsters and Darth Vaders.
Bridget isn’t evil. She’s simply consistent.
She doesn’t t negotiate. She doesn’t sympathise. She doesn’t t lower herself for optimism. She doesn’t tolerate fools.
She is a life lesson in infrastructure form: know your height.
Her appetite frequency depends on who you ask. Official city numbers tend to sound restrained. Locals, who watch the drama unfold and swap photos like wildlife photographers documenting a predator, suggest the count is far higher.
There’s even a Facebook group (“Muizenberg’s Famous Truck-Eating Bridge”) dedicated to Bridget’s greatest hits — a running archive of human confidence meeting immovable reality.
So if you’re heading through Muizenberg in a truck, pause. Look at the signs. Think about Albertyn Road.
And then ask yourself one question: what’s on Bridget’s menu today?
Because here’s the suspenseful truth — she never looks hungry.
But breakfast, lunch or supper… Bridget will eat you anyway.
