You can call it 30 St. Mary Axe.
You can call it the Swiss Re Building.
But let’s be honest—everyone in London just calls it The Gherkin.
Personally? I think that’s a grave injustice to vegetables everywhere. To my eyes, this thing looks far more like a giant Fabergé Egg someone accidentally left out on the counter after an extravagant Easter brunch. A jewel of a building—literally.
Completed in late 2003 and opened in 2004, The Gherkin is the architectural equivalent of a celebrity cameo. One glimpse of the London skyline and BAM—there it is, photobombing like it owns the place.
And as a lifelong James Bond fan, I may be slightly biased. I fully expected 007 to rappel down its side or casually step out for a martini. (Shaken, not stirred, of course.)
Naturally, one of my biggest goals on this trip was capturing my perfect Gherkin shot.
So off I went—walking 6.2 miles across London (6.2 miles, mind you—documented by my iPhone, because if your phone doesn’t verify it, did you really do it?). I was happily navigating the medieval maze of the City when I noticed something unusual sticking out from The Gherkin’s curves.
Protrusions.
Unmoving ones.
Oh no.
Window-cleaning day.
Of course it was.
Suspended scaffolding… workers dangling mid-air… ropes, buckets, squeegees… basically everything you do not want in the middle of your iconic architectural shot.
Being the eternal optimist—and by that I mean a man desperately bargaining with fate—I tried every angle imaginable from every public right-of-way London legally offered. I even charmed my way up to a couple of rooftop restaurants, only to find half-views blocked by glass, metal, or something I can only describe as “a structural inconvenience.”
I took street-level shots anyway, knowing full well that they were not the shot. Not even close. But sometimes you just have to take what the photo gods give you.
So I shrugged it off and continued my trek toward my next must-have: the magnificent Tower Bridge.
And wouldn’t you know it…
I climbed onto a landing at the base of one of the towers, turned around to admire the skyline—and there it was.
The Gherkin.
Perfect.
Proud.
Posing.
Completely window-cleaner-free.
It was as if the city whispered, “You worked for it, my friend. Here’s your reward.”
And just like that, my favorite image of The Gherkin wasn’t taken at The Gherkin.
It was taken from Tower Bridge.
Because of course it was.
New Motto:
You just never know until you go.
(And also: avoid Window Cleaning Wednesday.)
Fun Fact:
In April 2005, a large window pane popped out of The Gherkin and plummeted 28 stories to the pavement—no injuries except to London’s collective blood pressure.
Know what famous American building suffered the same embarrassing issue?
The John Hancock Tower in Boston.
Must be a tall-building rite of passage.
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