Original subtitles

How do you thread a brand-new subway

through a crowded city-centre?

Building a tunnel there

is one of the most challenging things you could ask

a tunnel engineer to look at.

How did two revolutionary towers

save an inner city from the sprawl of the burbs?

It was out of this world to do it back then.

It was absolutely revolutionary.

And how do you join two nations

when a bridge can't go the distance?

Where can we dig?

Where can we build up?

It was a puzzle.

Welcome to a world where anything is possible.

The space where innovation and creativity collide.

Part building, part transformer.

It's incredible.

Where the only limit is human imagination.

Dr. Mabry: This is mind-blowing when you think about it.

We're talking about actually living on another planet.

Unpacking the miracles

and mysteries of construction...

This was engineering

on a scale the world had never seen.

...to ask,

How Did They Build That?

I talk a lot about skyscrapers that are built to break records.

But not all of them are built to show off.

Some are built to show up.

The Marina City Towers in Chicago did just that.

And somewhere in the process,

Chicago's most serious urban solution

took a form no one expected,

one that looks a lot like corncobs?

It was a revolutionary design...

Nothing like this had been built before.

...constructed against the clock...

Marina City found so many ground-breaking ways

to be efficient.

...using cutting edge methods of building.

Pretty much every aspect of the construction

was revolutionary.

And it would create two towers

that still define the skyline almost 70 years later.

So, how did they build them?

It's late 1950s America,

and the boom in car ownership

is busy transforming the country,

as a vast network of highways draws people in businesses

out of the cities and into the suburbs.

Few are feeling the shift more than Chicago.

There was a question as to how cities

were going to survive.

One of the people searching for a solution

is William McFetridge,

President of Chicago's Building Services Employees Union.

It was a large union.

It had a healthy pension fund

that needed to be invested,

but it was also threatened by this kind of migration

of people and companies out of the city

into the suburbs.

Together with local architect Bertrand Goldberg,

they hatch a plan.

McFetridge and my father were kindred spirits

about trying to reinforce the city.

Dr. Agbedor: Goldberg was inspired

by modernist architects like Le Corbusier,

who believed the modern city

needed to be completely rethought.

And he imagined creating communities

where every aspect of everyday life

could happen all in one organized setting.

The big idea was a city within a city.

And this would create, in his view,

a much more vital, much more vibrant,

much more energetic, er, urban space.

What Goldberg proposed

was unlike anything Chicago had seen before.

The city's first twin tower multi-use complex,

housing everything from shops and offices,

to homes and parking.

A sort of vertical city within the city.

Goldberg's design for two 65-storey

residential towers with an office, theatre,

and retail space

will truly fulfill his ambition of a city within a city,

but comes with a lot of challenges.

At 587 feet tall,

the first will be keeping them standing

in the soft clay soil.

Next, they'll need to build fast

to keep costs down,

but constructing the towers in record time

will require some radical solutions.

Then, to lure people out of the suburbs,

they'll need to come up with an ingenious way

to fit in a parking space for all 896 apartments.

Lastly, with an eye on cost again,

they'll need to find a system to build the apartment floors

in superfast time.

These will be truly revolutionary towers.

Back then, living in a 60-storey high-rise

was absolutely unheard of.

Chicago was home to the first skyscraper

built in 1885.

Even so, this will be a first for the city

and for Goldberg.

His tallest building was a three-storey house

out of concrete,

er, so he had no experience

in actually building anything of this size.

I mean, these were the tallest towers

at the time in the world.

Despite this,

Goldberg's vision convinces McFetridge

to invest millions of the union's money

into making the dream a reality.

McFetridge was taking a gamble

from an investment point of view.

Who knows whether a development is gonna work or not.

November 22nd, 1960, they break ground

on this revolutionary build.

This is not typical ground-breaking.

You have the mayor.

You have The Archbishop of Chicago.

You have a phone call live with John Kennedy

as president-elect.

I mean, this is pretty significant stuff.

Their first problem

is ensuring the concrete towers won't sink.

Concrete, by its nature, is very heavy,

and so, therefore, these immense towers,

erm, like, you know, 65 storeys to the very top,

um, are enormously heavy.

The job is complicated

by Chicago's notoriously poor clay soil.

The enormous loads could not be supported

by the weak, very compressible soils.

Holding the towers up demands some of the strongest

foundations ever seen.

Using the world's biggest drill,

weighing some 125 tons,

the guys on site cut deep shafts over 100 feet

down into the bedrock beneath Chicago.

And then, steel casings were lowered into the holes

before being filled

with concrete and steel reinforcement,

so that's to ensure

that they would remain rock solid.

Then, 154 foundation piles

are arranged in concentric circles

to support the circular towers.

You can rest the building, er, on top

of those very, very long concrete pillars, basically.

With the foundations complete,

it's time to start building the vertical city.

Everything about this project is revolutionary,

right down to the way in which it's built.

It was one of the first uses in North America

of what was called a Linden Crane,

which was a swinging crane that could actually

basically lift itself up, the building structure.

Doing that will cut down on the time spent

moving the crane.

That means a shorter schedule

which reduces cost.

Normally, you would have to

basically build the scaffolding,

and then, lift the crane up.

And it was a very cumbersome procedure and took time.

Innovation doesn't stop there, though.

They also try a new system of concrete casting

called jump form.

Today, it's used a lot in construction,

but back then, it was revolutionizing

how tall buildings were made.

Carpenters built a wooden mould

around the tower's concrete core

that can be removed and used over and over again.

They'd pour one floor's depth of concrete

and let it set, and then, the next day,

they simply move the whole thing up a floor.

No one had ever done this before.

Each day, the core increased in height

one entire storey,

so an amazing pace of work.

With the concrete cores complete in record time,

the team faces a new challenge.

1960s America sees car ownership exploding,

and one of the pulls of suburban living

was to be able to park your car right outside your front door.

The challenge for Goldberg

was to create inner city living

that could compete.

In 1960s Chicago,

the team building two revolutionary city towers

is trying to figure out

how to fit in enough parking garage

for the 896 apartments.

In a normal parking garage,

each floor needs its own ramps and turning areas

to connect one level to the next,

but Goldberg didn't have space for that.

So instead, he designed a single spiral ramp

that climbed the building with parking on its outer edge.

There's no wasted space in the ramps.

Everything is either a drive lane or a car.

Covering 19 storeys on each tower,

the architects create parking for every apartment.

It's unheard of at the time.

Having this much parking

in buildings like this

was a bold statement by the architect.

By the fall of 1961, the team moves on

to building the 40 floors of apartments above.

Unlike the circular floor plate of the parking level,

the residences have these beautiful

shell-shaped balconies.

They needed to be beautiful,

but also to be built quickly

and that called for simplicity.

So each floor follows the exact same design.

This meant that the same concrete moulds

could be used again and again and again.

They could simply, once the concrete

had cured on one level,

lift them out, move them up,

and use them again.

What this meant was that the site

could almost be a constant assembly line.

Using timber moulds is all well and good

for flat floors.

But creating ones that curve for the balconies

will be far more complex...

...until James McHugh, boss of the concrete company,

sees a solution.

James McHugh was an avid sailor

and, er, had his, er, fibreglass boat

on Lake Michigan.

And he had the eureka idea,

like, fibreglass is the perfect way

to form these, you know,

really amazingly complicated shapes.

Creating the moulds from fibreglass

makes casting the curving concrete balconies

much simpler.

It's a technique that's often used today,

er, but McHugh really pioneered it,

er, on Marina City.

The repeating floor plan

also brings another major advantage.

The construction process

was choreographed almost like a ballet.

It meant trying to make each task repetitive

so that the crews would be practised,

er, and be able to lay the reinforcement

or to pour the concrete

or to move the forms as quickly as possible.

By tightly scheduling every trade

on a repeating 48-hour cycle,

the team is able to complete each floor in just two days.

Doing a two-day floor cycle

is ambitious even today.

It was out of this world to do it back then,

it was-- it was absolutely revolutionary.

With this incredible speed,

the first tower tops out just one year

after construction began.

The fact that there were two towers

meant that a crew could work on one tower one day,

and as that concrete came up to strength,

the next day, they could work on the other tower,

so there was no idle time.

In January 1963,

the Marina City Towers complex is ready for its residents.

With 896 apartments

across two towers and an office, theatre,

and shops below,

it transforms downtown living,

creating Goldberg's vision of a city within a city.

Marina City showed that you did not

have to go by normal conventions.

You could rethink the puzzle.

Architecturally bold,

built using innovative construction methods,

the 65-storey Marina City Towers redefine

what high-rise living can be.

The buildings were so stunning

and they looked so new and so modern

that people rented them out very, very quickly.

Those 19 spiralling floors of garage

gets to park their car.

While below, there's even space to moor your boat.

Seventy years after completion,

its new residents love it every bit as much.

I love how you have the full-height window

so you get all the light, you get all the view.

To me, it just feels like the perfect place to live in.

I really, really love the idea

that there's--just the access

to all the amenities of the city

and a lot of them contained within the building itself.

All thanks to the vision of union boss McFetridge

and Architect Goldberg.

These buildings are celebrated,

and their design, it resonated with people then

and it resonates with people now.

The fact that it has become

a cultural landmark for the city

for over 60 years puts a smile on my face.

Denmark really, really wanted a tunnel

linking them to Sweden.

Sweden really, really wanted a bridge

linking them to Denmark.

And instead of arguing forever,

they met in the middle, literally.

The Oresund Link starts as a bridge,

disappears into an island, and finishes as a tunnel.

That's what I call compromise with style.

It would take over a hundred years to realize...

The technology at the time was just not up to it.

...involve engineering ingenuity, never seen before.

It's one of a kind.

It's, er, a lot of solutions

tried for the first time.

It couldn't be one long tunnel...

It wasn't a tunnel all the way,

because it was much more expensive

than a bridge.

...but it was impossible to be all bridge, too.

It's basically at the end of a runway.

This is the Oresund Link.

So, how did they build it?

In Northern Europe,

the Scandinavian countries

of Denmark and Sweden

sit separated by the Oresund Strait.

Building a crossing between the two countries

has long been a dream.

The first plans to join Denmark and Sweden

were proposed back in 1865,

but the immense costs just killed that idea.

Then, in the 1930s,

the arrival of the car

saw the re-emergence of that idea,

but the Second World War put an end to all of that.

Sixty years later, in 1991,

Denmark and Sweden commit to bridging the gap.

The idea behind it was, of course, growth,

trying to bring Denmark and Sweden together.

But there is a problem.

In fact, two.

A bridge wouldn't work on the Danish side

because it was too close to Copenhagen Airport

and dangerous for planes,

but creating a ten-mile-long tunnel was too expensive.

The solution is to have a bit of both.

Oh, and they also need somewhere

for the bridge and tunnel to meet.

It became three pieces, four kilometres tunnel,

four kilometres island,

and eight kilometres of a bridge.

The vision is to create a stunning bridge from Sweden,

a tunnel from Denmark,

and then, join them together on an island.

The only thing is,

none of this, including the island,

currently exists.

So, they will need to create 320 acres of artificial island

in the middle of the strait.

But they're not allowed to change the water flow

as it could damage the delicate ecology.

It's too expensive to bore a tunnel

for just two and a half miles,

but it can't sit on the seabed

because it would affect the water flow too,

and be a hazard for ships.

The bridge will also need to be strong enough

to carry cars and heavy trains.

But it can't have a lot of columns

because ships will need to pass underneath.

Creating it will take an incredible amount

of engineering ingenuity

We haven't had infrastructure project

like this, er, before.

They can't even think about lifting a spade though

until they've worked out how to build it

without damaging the ecology of the strait.

You have salt water and fresh water species

living side by side in a very delicate balance.

Any change to water flow could be catastrophic

for marine life.

Where can we dig? Where can we build up?

Where can they put bridge pillars?

It was a puzzle.

In August 1995,

work starts on the first piece of that puzzle,

building the artificial island

so it's strong enough to stand up to Mother Nature.

There can be stones.

First, you needed to put large, what we call armour stones.

The large stones act as a breakwater

in order that the waves cannot erode the island.

Now, they need the material

to build the island up behind the rock wall.

The solution? Dredge it from the seabed.

Dr. Cosgrave: This was ingenious,

because the lowering of the seabed

increased the water flow, compensating for the island.

And they could use what they dredged up

to create the artificial island.

Each day, they remove 31,000 cubic yards

of limestone, sand, and soil from the bottom of the sea,

the equivalent to over nine Olympic-sized swimming pools.

It was dredging, and then, transported,

go out, more dredging, transported back.

So that was a massive logistic operation.

But then, they hit upon a big problem.

During, the dredging process,

we found un-exploded bombs from the Second World War.

In Sweden and Denmark,

the team behind a dual bridge and tunnel project

that will join the countries together

has dredged up a big problem on the seabed.

In fact, 16 of them

in the shape of un-exploded World War II bombs.

If just one detonates,

it will jeopardize the whole project

and could risk sinking passing ships.

We had to call the military

and they, er, came out.

One by one...

...all the bombs are detonated.

With the bombs dealt with,

they get on with moving almost 318 million

cubic feet of material to complete the island.

And in the summer of 1996, the team finishes.

Their next challenge is building the tunnel

that connects the island to Denmark.

Normally, you bore under the seabed,

just as they did to build the Channel Tunnel,

which links Britain and France.

But here, the seabed consists of fractured rock

and shallow soft sediment,

which means tunnelling would be way too expensive.

The cheaper option is to lay the tunnel

on the seabed,

but that isn't gonna work either.

You don't want something going up from the seabed

in order to create the risk of ship collision.

So they decide to dredge a channel

and lay the tunnel inside of that.

Then, each 580-foot long tunnel section

is prefabricated on the shore.

Each one, an enormous rectangular tube,

measures 30 feet tall and 130 feet wide.

At the time, there was no immersed element

of this size that had ever been produced.

Each section is then filled with air

and floated out to sea before being sunk

exactly where it's needed,

which with each weighing 55,000 tons

seems a tall order.

It's called the Archimedes principle

and it means that if an object is lighter

than the amount of water that is displaced,

then it floats.

Like when you try to push

a ball underwater,

it's pushed back up to the surface.

Now, they need to get the massive tunnel sections out

into the middle of the sea.

It was daunting,

finding how to get it across.

They had three or four towing boats

in order to manoeuvre.

Using GPS, each piece is floated

to its exact position above the trench,

ready to be sunk.

They filled water into the ballast tanks.

So the tunnel were heavier,

and then, with wires from the towing boats

gently down into the trench.

For a whole year, work goes smoothly,

submerging a section every month.

Then, they reach number 13.

It was being lowered into place.

We lost water tightness

because one of our bulkheads

was pushed in by water pressure.

In seconds, the volume of the element

was filled with water.

And it just sank

at an uncontrolled position.

There's now a 55,000-ton concrete tube

sitting in the wrong place.

I remember arriving on site,

there was really a sense of emergency.

You could feel it in the corridors.

They're forced to refloat the whole section

and inspect it for damage.

It ended up being only fairly bad,

er, because we could re-employ the structure.

In September 1998,

unlucky number 13 sinks perfectly to the seabed.

Six months later, they connect with the island.

The tunnel was the longest

immersed tube tunnel in the world.

Now the team starts work

on the five-mile double-decker bridge

that will join Sweden to the island.

Its central span needs to cross a busy shipping lane

with as few supports as possible.

The first job is creating solid foundations

up to 65 feet beneath the surface.

They were positioned within a tolerance

of 20 millimetres on top of the bases.

With equal precision,

they then start building two super tough towers.

Each will be 670 feet tall and has to be strong enough

to carry the weight of the bridge.

It will withstand a Boeing 747

if it flies into the pylons.

Meanwhile, 1,200 miles away in Spain,

the double decker sections are fabricated one at a time

before being shipped to Sweden.

The site space in Malmo was restricted.

You might be able to store one or two,

but then they had to go out

and be placed in the bridge line

before the next ones arrived.

Time is of the essence.

Each enormous section has to be lifted into place

by a 300-foot tall floating crane

called the Swan.

And then, this is repeated again and again

with no room for error.

Both concrete decks weigh 7,000 tons.

And when you add the lifting gear,

which was 1,800 tons,

you're very close to the capacity of the Swan.

It was at the limit.

The slightest miscalculation

risks a bridge deck at the bottom of the sea.

The whole program had to be stitched

very tightly together.

Amazingly, the final piece slots into place

three months ahead of schedule.

It was probably the only project

that I have heard of this scale

which was finished ahead of time

and on budget.

After five years of construction,

and at a cost of $4 billion,

July 1st, 2000, the Oresund Link opens,

creating a permanent connection between Denmark and Sweden.

It was a wonderful day

when, er, we could actually move across

from Denmark to Sweden.

Beautiful day, beautiful day.

It's a very elegant design, I must say.

For the whole Oresund Region,

it is, er, both a landmark and icon,

but it's also very important to get the area to grow.

A tunnel sunk beneath the sea,

a bridge strong enough to carry rail and road traffic,

wide enough for ships to pass below,

and an island created from nothing.

You'll fly in and you see the bridge and the island,

and then, it just disappear into the ocean.

It's an amazing view.

With more than eight million people

crossing it every year.

It has been a massive success,

because we are much tighter between Sweden and Denmark.

An engineering marvel

that has transformed the region's fortunes.

This was something special.

It was a fantastic experience.

Sydney's population kept climbing,

and the city needed a new metro station.

Only issue, no space.

So engineers did the one thing that made sense,

they went underground.

"Properly Down Under,"

as the Aussies would say.

And what they built deep beneath the city

is a station that proves sometimes

the only way forward is down.

At the turn of the 21st century,

Sydney, Australia

is one of the world's fastest growing cities.

Sydney's population was around three and a half million people.

It's now projected in ten years' time

to reach six and a half million people.

But when it gets to moving around,

close to four million residents rely on the rail network

built in 1855

to carry passengers between the suburbs

or they get in their cars.

High-quality, fast public transport

is absolutely fundamental

to improve the quality of urban life

for the citizens of a city.

It needed a big solution.

A plan for a state-of-the-art

driverless metro system

gets the go-ahead in 2011.

In total, it's an investment

of about $60 billion

to create a brand-new high-capacity

automated metro network for Sydney.

In 2014, work begins

in the city's Northern Suburbs,

digging 22 miles of metro tunnels

heading towards the central business district.

But there's one question that needs answering.

We needed a station

right in the middle of the CBD, close to town hall,

close to the offices, close to the shopping,

but the big question was where do you put it?

Because the CBD is already busy

and we landed on this location on Pitt Street.

There were eight buildings,

which included a 14-storey tower,

which sat at the location

where the station needed to be built

some 66 feet below.

The site also holds deep historical significance

for the First Nations people, who must be recognized.

The Gadigal people are the first peoples

of this country and particularly this city.

They have been here for over 65,000 years.

All of which makes for a very difficult build.

Foster and Partners,

the architects behind London's iconic Gherkin

and the Millau Viaduct in France,

rise to that challenge.

You're seeking to integrate

the very nature of that excavation

to guide you through the world above

into the world below.

Foster's vision for the flagship subway station

and 500-foot tower above is stunning,

but constructing it comes with a series of headaches.

Starting with tunnelling twin station platforms

that have to somehow squeeze between the street

and a major tunnel underneath.

Next, the team must work out

how to support the huge office tower overhead,

but they can't run the building's core

through the station

to anchor it into the bedrock below.

Then, they need to find a way

to flood the station's vast entrance hall

with natural light,

despite being in one of the city's

most built-up districts

and sitting at the base of a 39-storey tower.

Finally, they must honour

the traditional custodians of the land.

A lot to do then.

August 2017, work begins.

We had to demolish a number of existing buildings,

office buildings, shops, et cetera,

to make way for the station below ground.

And below ground is just as busy

and crowded as above.

Building a tunnel there

is one of the most challenging things

you could ask a tunnel engineer to look at.

In Sydney, Australia,

the team building a new metro system

is facing a major challenge.

There's abandoned railway "ghost" tunnels,

sewage mains, electricity tunnels,

building basements.

It's like Swiss cheese down there.

Including one of Sydney's main road tunnels

running 70 feet below ground,

right through the site.

That tunnel was just 12 feet or so

below the floor of Pitt Street Station.

It leaves precious little space

to squeeze the station platforms

between the tunnel and the city streets above.

Usually, subway stations are created

by boring one big tunnel

that's big enough to have two platforms,

side by side, one in each direction.

However, here,

there wasn't enough space to do that.

The ingenious solution is to dig two small tunnels

which come together at the station.

It's a technique called bifurcated binocular design.

There's two tunnels which run underneath

two different streets,

which are a block apart.

So hence, you get these two parallel tubes

which look like a pair of binoculars,

hence the name.

What makes for a very complex build

is in that part of the busy CBD.

The biggest challenge is excavating

where the metro needs to pass

over the Cross City Road Tunnel.

You see these tunnel boring machines,

they are huge machines,

they're hundreds of metres long, massive,

bigger than big jet aeroplanes.

They're mobile factories.

Scott C: It was a pretty hair-raising period of time.

It's 12 feet above a live operating road tunnel,

which in engineering terms is wafer-thin cover.

The rock mass could not support the weight

of the 700-ton machine.

The danger is, it collapses

into the road tunnel below.

Their best bet? To try an engineering technique

more commonly used in bridge building.

The bridging slab was a little bit wider

than the Cross City Tunnel,

so approximately 15, 16 metres wide,

and it was approximately about a metre deep,

but it followed the profile of the Cross City Tunnel

to basically spread that load around the tunnel crown.

The 45-foot-wide,

three-foot-thick bridging slab is in place.

But the team prepares in case it isn't strong enough

to support the weight of Nancy,

the massive boring machine.

Out of abundance of caution,

er, we closed the Cross City Tunnel.

We had a minute-by-minute plan

of where our tunnel boring machine should be

throughout a night shift,

so that as the tunnel boring machine

was pushed across,

its loads would be transferred

either side of the Cross City Tunnel.

After a tense few hours...

The bridging structure worked perfectly.

We had movements, deflections of less than five millimetres.

So it was a resounding success.

And on August 15th, 2019,

Nancy safely breaks through

into the station entrance hall.

The team turns to its next challenge.

Building the 39-storey office block on top.

When you build directly over a station,

there are some great advantages,

but some great challenges as well.

You would ideally bring the core of the building

right down to ground level.

But our ground level

is occupied by a station,

so there's no space.

The team's solution is unexpected and brilliant.

The tower above the station

is effectively on a concrete table

with columns that run through

the entranceway into the station,

and then, transfer out onto the bedrock below.

To do that, the columns need

to support forces of 90 million pounds.

That's equivalent to 11 space shuttles

firing at full throttle.

These columns were four feet by eight feet

by approximately 75 feet long.

They contained

about 400,000 pounds of concrete

and 70,000 pounds of reinforcing steel.

With the columns set,

the tower's core quickly rises above the station.

And within months, all 39 storeys of the office

are taking shape.

The team's next challenge

is how to get enough natural light

into the station hall,

despite being overshadowed by the tower above.

Daylight is hugely important in environments

like subway stations.

In emergency situations,

underground experiments have shown

that people instinctively follow pathways

that are naturally lit,

even when evacuation signs

point them in another direction.

So we cut this big slot in the face of the tower

to pull it apart,

to get as much daylight into the heart

of the entrance concourse as possible.

Scott K: It was an extremely challenging structure to build.

Heavy structural steel,

twenty-five mil thick glass,

um, above the station entries.

For the commuter exiting the station,

it's also a pathway to the light.

All that's left to do

is install the escalators and elevators

that will carry thousands of passengers every day,

and fit out the station's concourses,

before the final job,

recognizing the First Nations people

whose ancestors lived on the land.

The Gadigal people are a clan of the Eora Nation,

which are the original Aboriginal people of Sydney.

For thousands of years,

they relied on a fresh water source

that they called the Tank Stream,

which today runs deep below the city of Sydney.

The Tank Stream is reflected in huge murals

and the city decides to name the station

after the Gadigal people.

My involvement was actually putting forward

the names that we recommended,

and Gadigal was that name.

I'm extremely proud

that we finally have some true recognition.

In August 2024, after seven years

and a cost of 324 million US dollars,

the newly named Gadigal Station

completes a stunning addition

to Sydney's Metro system.

Serving 16,000 passengers a day.

Being part of something that leaves that lasting legacy

where you are benefiting the community as a whole

is something I'm very proud of.

It's been a highlight of my career,

just because it's very democratic.

People use it day in, day out.

And it's there for everyone.

Spanning an entire city block

with a huge 39-storey tower on top,

its inviting entrance hall,

is open plan and airy,

thanks to four mega columns,

and a pair of stunning 10,000-tile murals.

The scale is such that you could see it

from the street as well.

And as you move towards it,

you know, it begins to just grow and grow and grow,

and then, people come and they're sort of enveloped

by colour.

And a year after opening, Gadigal is recognized

as one of the most beautiful stations

in the world.

It's an absolutely stunning piece of engineering

and a stunning piece of architecture.

It really is a beautiful, incredible station.

It's more than just catching a train.

In a world where imagination,

innovation, and creativity

define the spaces that surround us,

How Did They Build That? shows again and again

that humankind will overcome the seemingly impossible.