The Climb of a Lifetime
Monday. It started like any other day. My friend John called at the ungodly hour of 11:30, came over, and left me no choice but to drag myself out of bed and reheat some leftover schnitzel and mash from Sunday for breakfast. Actually, the food was my call and yes, I know breaded chicken is not necessarily the best thing to eat first thing in the morning. I had enjoyed it the day before at a friend’s house and I was just that excited to finish it off.
In addition, I finally found a bagel in Sydney that I would say rivals New Jersey quality. This one may have even been better, since it came straight out of a kosher bakery in Bondi, Australia’s answer to Brooklyn being so far away. Monday night, though, is what I really want to write about. When I finally got around to surfing in Manly a couple of weeks ago, I truly believed that this would be the last item on my Australia to-do list I’d get to eliminate. Walking by and driving over the Sydney Harbour Bridge as many times as I have this semester, I considered endlessly the prospect of climbing out but just could not decide if it was worth it. It wasn’t about my fear of heights, although that certainly was a factor. I simply didn’t know if I could stand to part with so much money for a single activity.
As the reality of leaving Australia possibly forever came closer, I had a revelation. Screw it, I said, time and experience are more valuable than money! When will I have the opportunity again to wear a suit that looks like it came off the Starship Enterprise and scale one of the world’s greatest landmarks? Stepping into the BridgeClimb office at the foot of this marvel of relatively modern engineering, I was in awe of sheer size of the bridge and that I would soon find myself at the top of it. I wish I knew who discovered it was possible to not only make a lot of money by charging tourists to physically climb the 400 or so feet above the Bradfield Highway but to also sell photos at sixteen dollars pop in the name of safety. I’m in awe of this person, too.
The entire experience was spectacular. It took about an hour to suit up with our harnesses, gear, radios, warm clothing, and other gear we needed to make the trip. They were even kind enough to throw in another first for me: a Breathalyzer test. These people seriously did not take any chances. The beginning of the climb was through an intricate maze of rafters and beams under the main platform. Our guide explained the history of its construction and how, along with the Opera House, Sydney has rapidly grown to become one of the world’s most beautiful and cosmopolitan cities. We made it to the top after about an hour or so of walking and, well, I wish they would have let us take our own photos. Half expecting to find a gift shop and a café, the view of Sydney at night was, well, I’m not a good enough writer to adequately describe it. The crisp, cool air and the colours of the magnificent skyline made my moment above the city unforgettable. Looking out over the Opera House, I could see what was left of the chaos that was the Australian Idol finale the night before. I felt like I was on top of the entire country and, seeing as that about a fifth of Australia’s population lives in Sydney, I wasn’t far off.
We rested at the bridge’s pinnacle for about fifteen minutes. I forced myself to relax, to take deep breaths, and to absorb as much of everything as I could. There was a surreal silence to being so far above Sydney and I felt as if I needed to convince myself I was actually there. Looking at the Opera House, even after over living here for over four months, still strikes me with this sense of delusion. Why, with my feet planted firmly on Australian ground, does it seem like I’ll wake up at home and all of this will have been a dream? I’m not just talking about the climb, of course, but this entire experience.
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