In Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities (1972), the postmodern novel suggests that cities, beyond their spatial bounds, exist in time as a culmination of everything created, erased and restored. A layered palimpsest of stone, steel and memory, every city keeps its ledger—a record of everything that is built, sustained and replaced. The city of Prague is no different. Replete with Gothic spires and Baroque domes, the Czech capital has survived wars and changing regimes over the centuries, juxtaposing the new with the old without ever losing its identity. Yet in the present day, an urban relic perched on the Vltava River puts on trial Prague’s commitment to expand its ledger without blotting out what has already been inscribed. Will the structure retain its memory or change so much that its original record disappears? The Ship of Theseus in question is the Vyšehrad Railway Bridge, which connects the heritage Vyšehrad fortress area to newer urban developments. Originally constructed during 1871-72, the bridge was rebuilt in 1901 under the Prague Connecting Railway project to connect the Nusle Valley (Prague Main Railway Station at present) with Smíchov. Now, the UNESCO Heritage Site is torn between two proposals—the 2019 conceptual design by the Institute of Planning and Development (IPR Prague) that advocates for the demolition and replacement of the bridge, and a counter-proposal by the Vyšehrad Bridge Foundation (VBF) that prioritises reinforcement of the structure and the preservation of its salvageable steel components.

As per Pavel Paider, director of the Railway Authority's Construction Preparation Department, the bridge in its current state can no longer bear the weight of the projected mobility growth and that reconciliation of the city’s needs and heritage conservation is “simply not possible”.¹ IPR Prague's proposal outlines the dismantling of the bridge which involves sending off the old steel remnants to the Modrany district to serve as a passage for pedestrians and cyclists, and building a replica on top of the existing stone piers, incorporating secondary columns and a third track within the fabric.² It is a familiar urban reflex: when confronted by traffic congestion, cities widen roads, add lanes or expand tracks almost instinctively. By treating congestion solely as a question of capacity, such interventions often overlook how the existing urban fabric might absorb these changes; whether the old and the new can coexist without straying from the ledger that binds their layered narratives together.

Tomas Bistricky, co-founder of the Vyšehrad Bridge Foundation, argues that the transportation upgrades and cultural preservation are not conflicting but complementary interests. When observed from the riverbank, the Vyšehrad Railway Bridge might not be of the same character as the Czech architecture of Charles Bridge, the Legion Bridge or the fortress, but its presence is vital to the city’s skyline and industrial memory. Well, this undertaking comes with significant challenges. The corroded rivets and members of the bridge have turned it into a bottleneck for a city whose rail system already strains under growth. The bridge handles nearly three-quarters of the city’s railway traffic but operates at 60 per cent of its capacity. Trains trundle across at reduced speeds, surrendering efficiency while exercising caution.

A grassroots coalition of engineers, architects and citizens, VBF’s proposal is supported by international experts—British bridge engineer Ian Firth and Swiss expert Andreas Galmarini, alongside bridge engineer Petr Tej and K&K Enterprises-founder Marek Kopeč who have restored similar steel structures worldwide. The group’s findings argue that only 15 per cent of the bridge’s steel needs replacing—contrary to the previous report that advises 70 per cent of the structure to be replaced—and the rest can be strengthened and restored. They propose reconstruction instead of demolition and total replacement, minimising urban disruption and ensuring at least another century of lifespan. While this proposal also includes the addition of a third track, it suggests building the track next to the historical structure without challenging its industrial character. Beyond infrastructure, the intervention seeks to transform the public spaces surrounding the bridge. Inspired by infrastructural models built across Berlin, London and New York, the plans include revitalisation of the unused, brick vaults underneath the bridge to make space for the community, introducing socio-cultural and commercial spaces.

Supported by the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology (ETH Zurich) assessment, UNESCO’s endorsement and a petition of over 25,000 locals, the infrastructure design proposal details engineering solutions for the restoration process. All three steel spans are proposed to be temporarily removed and transported through self-propelled modular transporters (SPMTs). Temporary structures are envisioned to be built on site for continued rail operations, contrary to the IPR proposal that entails the complete closure of the tracks for approximately three years. The critically damaged elements are sought to be replaced, while the salvageable ones propose treatment plans against corrosion, weathering, and pollution. The plan also highlights a raise in the bridge's load-bearing capacity to meet modern railway safety requirements. Prioritising sustainability, the plan further underscores the utilisation of three times less building materials than the IPR proposal, where the discarded steel components are outlined to be recycled and the proposed construction techniques hopes to ensure lower carbon emissions, noise pollution and waste of resources.

The ageing trusses stand at a critical juncture in Prague’s urban narrative. The paradox of the Ship of Theseus emerges as a framework to enquire about the conditions that allow an object’s identity to persist over time. In this light, restoration is not resistance to progress; it is a method of preserving layers of shared urban memory into the ever-changing fabric of Prague. The soon-to-be-announced outcome will reflect how Prague, a city globally admired for its architectural palimpsest, chooses to reconcile preservation with future mobility; whether its ledger still accommodates amendments that honour its own inscriptions or chooses to overwrite them.

References

^1. A Bridge Too Far? Prague Railway Project Draws Criticism, BBC, July 12, 2025
^2.Vyšehrad Railway Bridge, IPR Praha, February 25, 2019