Okay, with that little tidbit behind us, let’s move onto the story. A week beforehand, my flatmate and I entertained another US expat who was working in Sydney. This weekend, he returned the favor.
After flying into Sydney, I headed downstairs to the train station, fan of public transport that I am. I was pleasantly surprised by the double-decker cars, and the short ride to the CBD.
Getting off at Museum station, I lugged my bags up above ground and looked around Hyde Park and what appeared to be an ornate mausoleum enshrined in the middle of the park.
I found my host on his way back to the flat where he was staying, dropped off my bags, and headed out for dinner with the expat group there. We walked around Cockle Bay and Darlington Harbour, taking in the three-story establishments with varying restaurants on each floor until we finally settled on a seafood restaurant in Cockle Bay. The harbour and bay form the west side of the CBD, Darlington Harbour dipping down from the north and terminating in Cockle Bay.
After dinner, we headed out to see some of the nightlife, but I ultimately turned in early so I could take on the city with a fresh set of eyes in the morning.
One thing I noticed almost immediately after I woke up was that Sydney is definitely warmer than Melbourne. I stepped out onto the balcony to determine how warmly I should dress for the day, since it was still winter, and decided a sweater would be enough for the morning, and might be too much later on.
I headed north from the apartment toward Circular Quay (pronounced “key”). The streets were quiet, though Starbucks was ready to warm me up. The city was clean and sharp, and besides the obvious postcard buildings, I really liked the ABN Amro building.
I had to work my way around blocked areas while the police set up barriers for the APEC conference that would be held there over the next week, with significant additional security required for the visit of George W. Bush later in the week. Embarrassingly, the set of security checkpoints was not enough in the following week to keep a group of late night comedy hosts from dressing up as Osama bin Laden and traveling through three checkpoints in a car marked as a Canadian envoy before they got out of the car near the hotel where some dignitaries were staying because they were nervous about exactly how close they had gotten. Needless to say, they were arrested; but, with over $300 million spent on security, I don’t think it was much of a tribute to effective use of the money.
In fact, the Sydneyites had complained about the money being spent to bring the dignitaries in (the APEC conference was the most significant international event ever held on Australian soil; in fact, they gave people who lived near the city a holiday during the conference in order to keep them away from the bustle). A former prime minister chided the people for complaining, which I found amusing, but appropriate. There is a proverb that says, “Where there are no oxen, the trough is clean.” There is a cost to every benefit, and the notoriety of hosting this event came with the burden of protecting those who came.
After navigating the barriers, I found my way into Circular Quay itself, which is the most known area of Sydney. Facing the north as I walked in, the Harbour Bridge was a little further north on my left, the ferry ports directly in front of me, and the Opera House sat like a pearl set on a small peninsula jutted into the main harbour, like a pendant to adorn the city.
The BridgeClimb
I headed northwest toward the bridge and though a charmingly preserved area of stone buildings, where a weekend market was developing from empty tables and boxes of trinkets into a bazaar of artsy goods. I meandered beyond the bustle onto lazy windy streets, and found myself at the base of the Harbour Bridge. It was a huge sight to behold from so close, and we would become better acquainted shortly.
While turning back around and walking along the bridge back south, I noticed the sign for the BridgeClimb, a chance to walk and climb your way to the top of the bridge. I had been debating whether or not to spend the money on such an adventure, but a short MasterCard transaction later, I was sitting in a preparation area looking at scenes from prior climbs and information on the history of the bridge itself. My climb would start around 9:00 am, and after changing clothes, going through “training,” actually walking the bridge, and getting back into my normal attire, I would get back out the door just after noon. Maybe my host would be awake by then – he was out late, and hadn’t shown a hint of stirring when I had left.
The group of 12 or so of us signed our release forms, and mingled a bit through the preparation process. I was with a couple who were originally from Indiana, but who had worked in a variety of places before coming to Australia. It was their last weekend in Australia before moving onto Singapore for a couple years. I hope to have similar stories. Another was a couple celebrating their 10th anniversary, and another was a father / daughter combo celebrating her 16th birthday. There was also a Japanese guy who had been on business in Sydney for a week and had to get in on the adventure. Our guide was a former teacher, who had lived overseas for a while and was working the BridgeClimb to enjoy his home for a while upon returning to Australia. Later I found out his daughter would be performing in a child concert at the Opera House that evening. Imagine being able to tell your friends that your daughter was playing at the Opera House.
We had to wear blue and grey jumpsuits and put all loose items in a locker. The jumpsuit was designed to match the colours of the bridge so we would blend in as much as possible. We had raincoats and jackets in pouches on our back, and were fitted with radio transmitters so we could hear our guide along the way. We had a cable attached at our waist, which we would use to remain attached to safety cables throughout the walk.
We started out by climbing up to the bottom of the inside of the bridge, and looked down upon the hinges that allowed the bridge to “breathe” as it inhaled the heat during the summer months and expanded, and exhaled during the winter. We walked around a construction area where they were repainting sections of the bridge, and climbed up four steep ladders. While on the second one, we passed between the underbelly of the bridge and the road that crosses it, so as I looked to the left, I could see the pavement and cars passing across. We kept climbing to the top of the four ladders, and proceeded to walk along the top girders of the bridge. When it was first built, they attached the various components by heating up rivets to melting points, throwing them to a catcher near the weld, sliding the rivet up from underneath, and rounding off the superheated rivet on the top. When it cooled, the rivet was permanent. Keep in mind, this all occurred up in the air on a partially built structure (including heating the rivets in the kilns).
We took pictures at various points, and looked over at a Luna Park on the north side, and the Opera House on the south side. We could see the various fingers of the harbours extending east and west, and in the distance on the east we could see where the harbours met the ocean. We crossed the center of the bridge and headed back down the opposite part of the frame where we had started. We saw the bridge “train” they used when they were building the structure, which they still retain and use for maintenance as necessary.
We descended the bridge and wound back around underneath and back to the starting point. I called my host and we agreed to meet for a sushi lunch.
