In a quiet corner of Ninh Binh, far from the better-known tiled bridges of Phat Diem or the bustle of local markets, a modest structure spans a narrow canal, almost unnoticed by outsiders.
The Thuong Gia tiled bridge, nestled between the villages of Sao Long and Tan Ngoc in Gia Van commune, has stood for more than a century. For locals, however, it is not simply an old bridge. It is something closer to a living heirloom - a “treasure” carefully preserved through generations.
No one knows exactly when it was built.
Even the village’s oldest residents, now nearing a century in age, say the bridge had already existed when they were born. It has always been there, quietly connecting both sides of the canal that winds through the community.
In earlier days, the bridge was constructed entirely from ironwood. Its tiled roof sheltered travelers, and for many years, it served as the only passage for villagers moving between fields, homes and markets.
Its design reflects a traditional architectural style known as “thuong gia ha kieu” - a structure that is both house above and bridge below. Measuring around 10 meters in length and nearly 3 meters in width, it resembles a five-compartment wooden house resting gently over water.
Every beam, column and floorboard was originally made from solid ironwood, lending the structure remarkable durability. Over time, however, the bridge’s foundations, long exposed to water, began to deteriorate and have since been reinforced with concrete pillars to ensure safety.
Clues to its origin remain carved into the wooden beams of the central compartments, written in Han characters. Yet without proper translation, the exact age of the bridge remains uncertain, suspended somewhere between memory and history.
For villagers like Dinh Thi Hung, now 94, the bridge has been a constant presence throughout life.
She recalls it not only as a pathway, but as a place where life unfolded - where young couples once met in quiet corners, where children played, where people paused to rest in the shade. In the late afternoons, it still becomes a gathering place for elderly residents, who sit along the wooden benches lining both sides, sharing stories and watching the slow rhythm of village life.
Mrs. Dinh Thi Hung, 94.
The bridge has endured moments of loss as well.
In 1954, during the war against French forces, villagers burned it down to prevent enemy troops from crossing the canal. Yet the resilience of ironwood meant that parts of the structure survived the flames. After the war, those remnants were used to rebuild the bridge, preserving much of its original form, though the roof was replaced with tiles instead of thatch.
Decades later, as new roads were constructed and a modern concrete bridge was built nearby in the 1980s, the old tiled bridge was no longer essential for transportation.
Still, it was never removed.
Instead, it remained - not out of necessity, but out of recognition.
For the people of Sao Long and Tan Ngoc, the Thuong Gia bridge is more than infrastructure. It is a quiet witness to change, a keeper of memory, and a symbol of continuity in a landscape that has gradually transformed around it.
In its worn wooden planks and tiled roof lies a story not written in records, but carried in the everyday lives of those who continue to sit, walk and gather there.