Ponte Sant'Angelo

Hadrian built the bridge in 134 to reach his own mausoleum; Bernini gave it the ten angels seventeen centuries later, each carrying an instrument of the Passion. The result is a pedestrian crossing lined with over-lifesize baroque sculpture, with the drum of Castel Sant'Angelo closing one end and, downstream, the dome of St Peter's.

There are two frames here and they are different photographs. On the bridge itself, standing low and shooting along the parapet, the angels repeat away into the distance and the castle sits at the vanishing point — a wide lens and a centred subject is all it needs. From the embankment on the Lungotevere, a hundred metres downstream, you get the other one: the whole span, the castle and St Peter's stacked in a single frame.

Light and hour decide which. Early morning empties the bridge and puts warm side light on the angels' faces; dusk turns it into the postcard, when the castle floodlights come on and the sky is still blue. In between it belongs to street sellers and tour groups, and the bridge is narrow enough that a busy hour genuinely blocks the shot.