ST. ANDREWS, Scotland — Some people dance on it. Others gaze from it. Some people get engaged on it. Others hang from it. One woman flew across an ocean to sprinkle her golf-loving husband’s ashes beneath it.

Of all the storied parts to the Old Course here, the Swilcan Bridge — that stone arch on the 18th hole that swoops over the only water hazard on the course — may be the most transcendent. It is historic, it is charming and it is, without doubt, a place where a lot of weird things happen.

Everyone knows that photographs at the bridge are all but required. Virtually every practice round played this week at the British Open included at least one player, if not more, stopping on the bridge for a selfie or something more elaborate.

The bridge is believed to date back more than 700 years (it was initially used as a pathway for shepherds and their animals), and the combination of history and scenery, with the Royal & Ancient Golf Club’s clubhouse rising in the background, is irresistible.

At some point over the next few days, a pair of legends, Nick Faldo and Tom Watson, will surely pause for pictures on the bridge as they play in what is expected to be their final British Open here. But earlier this week, the traffic on the bridge was more typical: On Tuesday, for example, during a steady procession of focused golfers morphing temporarily into wide-eyed tourists, Rafael Cabrera-Bello, a Spanish golfer, pulled a friend up on to the bridge with him and mugged for a series of photos. Even Sergio García, the veteran who was playing in the same group, paused for a snapshot.

“It’s a must-do,” Cabrera-Bello said afterward.

A few minutes later, Charl Schwartzel, the South African who won the 2011 Masters, was part of a group that organized a similar photo shoot.

“I do it just about every time,” Schwartzel said. “I still remember the first time: It was in 2002, I was playing with a friend here, and we were carrying our own bags.”

He shrugged, adding, “Back then, selfies weren’t a thing, so we actually used a real camera.”

For the golfers, the main draw of the bridge remains the other golfers who have trod a similar path. Alexander Lévy, a French player, said he enjoyed thinking of all of the sport’s stars each time he walked over the bridge: Jack Nicklaus put his leg up on the edge of the bridge as he waved to fans in 2005. Arnold Palmer doffed his hat from the same spot 10 years earlier. Bobby Jones, Old (and Young) Tom Morris, Harry Vardon and Gene Sarazen all traipsed over at various times in the decades before that. Just about every champion at the British Open here has taken the Claret Jug for a spin over the Swilcan’s stones.

Perhaps more interesting, though, are the tales of the more bizarre interactions that players and fans have had with the bridge.

At the 2007 Women’s British Open, Paula Creamer rounded off a perfect cartwheel in front of the bridge. In 2000, during an exhibition before the Open, Sam Snead did a little jig in the middle of it. In 2006, Padraig Harrington (standing) gave his wife (sitting) a kiss while the two held the massive bowl of a trophy that goes to the winner of the Dunhill Links championship.

For many years, residents of St. Andrews would hang their laundry on the bridge to dry, and on Sundays — when the Old Course is closed for play — the area around the bridge, on the 17th and 18th holes, would be covered in sheets and shirts. In 2013, the Australian golfer Sarah Kemp hung something slightly more unexpected from the bridge; after losing a bet, she gripped the side of the bridge and dangled from it.

The bridge is often connected with love, and it is not uncommon to see wedding parties celebrating at the various hotels near the Old Course come over for pictures. Just last month, Stacey Keating, another Australian professional, was playing a round on the Old Course when her boyfriend dropped to one knee on the bridge and asked for her hand in marriage. (She said yes and later posted on Twitter about it.)

The most poetic love story involving the Swilcan Bridge, however, may belong to Rae Poole. In 1992, Poole’s husband, Joe, taught her how to play golf while the couple was living in California. Poole grew to love the game and played with her husband often. In 2003, however, Joe died from a heart attack, and Poole said she did not play golf for four or five years.

Then, in 2009, a friend of hers — knowing her previous passion for the game — approached Poole at the last minute about joining a tour group that was going to visit some of Scotland’s famous courses. Not long after, Poole found herself at St. Andrews, walking up to the Swilcan Bridge and, very carefully, scattering the ashes of the man who taught her how to play golf beneath one of the game’s most famous landmarks.

“It was such a love story,” Poole said this week. “And the happy ending is that when I played the course the next day, there was a man in my group who had a wonderful swing and a wonderful smile.”

She laughed. “That man turned out to be my second husband,” she said. “We got married three years later.”