The Climb of My Life!

Gray clouds hung ominously over Hyde Park when I peeked out my hotel window and stepped onto the balcony.  Rain had been flirting with Sydney the past couple days and today of all days I did not want to encourage its advances. Don’t get me wrong.  I don’t mind rain but I don’t prefer to tromp around a city in it if it can be helped.  Today would have a fair share of tromping. 

I was going to experience two Sydney landmarks – the Sydney Opera House and the Sydney Harbor Bridge – one of which I’d get to go through and the other I’d get to climb on! Peering down at the pedestrians below, I took it as a good sign no umbrellas were in use.  Upon my arrival at Circular Quay, the wet ground told another story.

Weaving my way along the harbor walkway, the Opera House stood out as if evoking a melodious “Laaaa!” from its surroundings.  Its sheer grandness and enormous, white sails left me gaping up at the sky until a raindrop or two snapped me to my senses. I hurried under the first sail and down the escalator to meet up with my guided tour.

Kristi with the Sydney Opera House and the bridge.

All fitted with headsets to better hear our tour guide; we were introduced to a series of small playhouses on the outskirts of the Opera House while learning of the structure’s history, a structure that almost didn’t happen.

With the need for a reputable establishment to house the performing arts and revitalize Bennelong Point, an international design competition was created in 1956 by the New South Wales government.    A Danish gentleman’s monumental design won but due to its originality and lack of measurements, it was controversial.

It was estimated that the building of the opera house would take three years and cost $2 million when in fact it took sixteen years and $102 million.  It’s innovative design; especially in regards to the sails was an engineering feat, one that you appreciate even more when you see it up close and personal.  I definitely recommend catching a performance in this remarkable building.

After soaking up the harbor bustle from the opera house patio, I followed a walking path that took me through the Royal Botanical Gardens to Mrs. Macquaries Chair, where I had a fantastic view of the opera house and the Sydney Harbor Bridge.  To accompany me, I ran into one of the UK gentlemen from the Blue Mountain tour the day before.  He was walking the gardens waiting for his friend to finish climbing the Sydney Harbor Bridge, the climb I was looking to do in just a few hours.  

Bats in the Royal Botanical Gardens

Amongst the lush, green of the garden, a winding path brought us to several people staring at a line of trees.  Following their eyes upward, we saw them, lots of them just hanging there – bats.  I had never seen so many bats in my life and these were just a dent into the 4,000 that live in the gardens!  I was mesmerized at these webbed-winged, fuzzyheaded, night-flying oddities.  It confirmed one thing though – it was bats that I’ve been seeing flying at twilight, hundreds of them in a quiet, black stream over my hotel, both in Melbourne and Sydney.  Visions of bats making a beeline towards my neck to suck my blood did flash through my mind.  However, I believe these were fruit bats so I thankfully was not on the menu. My UK friend and I parted ways, he heading towards the Harbor Bridge and me walking to the Hyde Park Barracks to gain better insight into convict and immigrant life. 

Built in 1819 to house, clothe, and feed convict men, the barracks held many purposes over the years. Each convict had their own story, which the barracks museum skillfully shares through a variety of interactive exhibits. 

The stories of convict men preserved.

When I think of convicts populating the island of Australia, I think of a bunch of ruffians cast off to a bigger version of San Francisco’s Alcatraz but it wasn’t like that at all.  There were chain gangs and the such for harder, uncooperative criminals, but most convicts, both men and women, earned their grueling passage to the convict colony through petty crimes – stealing, pick pocketing, forgery and the such.  In reality, they were building a colony in which many more people would come and settle.  Many convicts were treated like apprentices to colony families until they earned their freedom.  They then were considered a colony member. Due to the opportunities this new land presented, many convicts wrote to their families back in England to encourage them to come over.  Whether their families did so by committing a petty crime, I’m not sure.  However, some convicts would bring their families with them so when they became free, the family could be together. Mind you though, the living conditions were rough, disease was rampant, and the shortage of women was becoming alarming.

The convicts slept in rows of hammocks.

In 1848, the barracks was transformed into a female dormitory to house the mainly teenage, Irish, orphan girls brought over to marry and become maids to upper class families.  Due to the Potato Famine in Ireland, the futures of these girls looked grim.  While this immigration gave them a future, their fate was largely dependent upon immigrant officials, the matron, clergy, who they married, and the family for whom they served. 

One account told of a teenage girl who was married off six days after she arrived in Australia.  Imagine losing your family and leaving the country you hold dear to come to a foreign land only to be married off to a man you don’t know six days after your arrival.  For many of the girls, it was their faith that kept them strong, made evident by the rosaries and half chewed up Bibles found when parts of the barracks were excavated in the 1980’s, a sign of the rats who also called the barracks home.

A chewed Bible and other items left behind.

As time passed, the question of how to care for the aging and sometimes homeless women became pressing.  In 1862, part of the barracks was transformed into the Hyde Park Asylum to house old, frail, chronically sick, destitute, and insane women.  The life of a pioneer woman, whether it be braving the harsh journey across the American prairies in a covered wagon or trying to bring civility to a wild and new Australian colony built on the backs of convict labor was a hard life, a life I am grateful to learn of and thankful I do not have to experience.

Heading towards Hyde Park and eventually back to my hotel on the opposite end, I came across the massiveness that is St. Mary’s Cathedral, the spires of which have been part of my daily view from my hotel balcony.  It was one of the first Catholic churches built in Sydney as the pioneer settlement was largely Protestant.

Life gently filled Hyde Park as I walked through it to my hotel with bicyclers, exercisers, meanderers and the such dotting the tree-lined walking paths.  The hard-core city dwellers didn’t seem fazed though when the skies opened and the wind blew.  However, the dots of umbrellas lining the wet, windy streets caused me to worry for in a couple of hours, I was scheduled to climb the Sydney Harbor Bridge.  The bridgeclimb operates in any weather except lightening and high winds for obvious reasons but would this weather cancel my bridgeclimb?  I would soon find out.

Donning my turquoise rain jacket, I braved the elements and after sometime walking, finally found the bridgeclimb headquarters.  Dripping wet, I checked in and the front desk lady, completely unfazed by my appearance or the state of the weather, confirmed my climb and directed me to where I’d meet the rest of my climb group.  I was going to be climbing in the rain!

The catwalk below and the traffic above.

After a thorough orientation, my group of 14 put on a jumpsuit and then raingear on top of that, making us look like little, black blobs.  The only thing that identified us was our shoes and our faces peeking out of our hoods. With a harness and headset in place, we practiced climbing and walking with our harnesses attached to the railing before we headed out into the elements to do the real thing.

With the roar of the traffic and the rumbling of the train overhead, we began our journey into the bowels of the bridge.  On narrow catwalks and up ladder-like metal staircases we went, climbing our way to the base of the arch where the rain met us and we began our careful climb to the top.

The rain was exhilarating all bundled up in my raingear and the view breathtaking as ferry boats and cars became smaller and smaller and the surroundings of Sydney became more visible.  I was so focused on the steps to avoid slipping so I was thankful for the frequent stops to listen to commentary from our tour guide and soak in the view.

The need for a bridge to connect Sydney and the North Shore was obvious even as early as 1815.  It would take people the near part of a day to travel around the harbor shores to get to the other side.  Otherwise, they could take a ferry.  It was after World War I that serious plans to build a bridge were in place, taking eight years to complete. Since the bridge was the highest point in the city at that time, it was inconceivable for the city folks to fathom such a structure.  People were not in favor of it, fearing it would surely collapse.

Weathering high winds and rain, thousands of workers took part in the building of this bridge.  Without harnesses or netting, they pounded rivet by flaming hot rivet into securing this metal structure, six million rivets in all.  It is amazing that only sixteen deaths occurred.  Often workers would throw red-hot rivets fresh from the furnace to each other, catching them in their tongs.  Unfortunately, some missed and contributed to the death count. Only two of the deaths resulted from falling off the bridge.  Two men survived the fall, one from 197 feet, crediting his tool belt as playing a role in saving his life.  As he fell with tool belt still in tact, he slipped it off allowing it to hit the water first.  This broke the water tension allowing him to hit the water and survive the fall.

On top of the bridge with the Opera House behind.

Making the last few steps to the top of the 440 ft. high arch, all I could do was stare in awe at my surroundings. Slowly I panned past the Sydney Opera House, its sails looking as if they’d catch flight and turned around as much as my harness would allow, trying to comprehend my current reality – I was standing on the highest point of one of the world’s most iconic structures… in the rain.  What was I thinking?!  It was brilliant!

Stopping midway across the catwalk joining both arches of the bridge, we turned behind us to see the twinkling of the city lights coming on as twilight approached.  The roar of the traffic below us increased, the car lights leaving white and red streaks as they glistened on the wet road.  It was a magical sight.  Just then, I turned behind me to see one of the gentlemen down on one knee proposing to his girlfriend.  It was their one-year anniversary.  Not being able to hear what was going on, our tour guide shared the good news over our headsets.  She of course said ‘yes’. 

Being 440 ft. on top of a metal bridge above rows of cars in the rain, one’s mind quickly goes to the next important factor for women in a marriage proposal – What about the ring?  The question not being ‘how big’ but ‘did it make it onto her finger’?  With wet hands; a small, smooth metal object; and lots of adrenaline, the success rate of the ring actually making it onto the woman’s hand looked grim.  In this scenario, the use of the phrase, “It’s the thought that counts” does not cut it.  However, the bridgeclimb crew was in on it, tying the ring to the gentleman’s jacket and through the use of slipknots, successfully got it onto her finger.

The city lights grew stronger as twilight came and we made our descent, the rain making their glow even more brilliant.  The Sydney Opera House, its sails highlighted now with green and purple lights dazzled amidst the raindrops as we peered at it for the last time before our climb down the ladders and back to get changed out of our wet gear.

While I had envisioned my climb to have gone differently, it was the rain that brought adventure, uniqueness, and an unexpected beauty of the harbor landscape that made it a truly memorable experience.  I can say after climbing the 1439 steps, besides my hike to Yosemite’s Half Dome, this was the climb of my life.

Scavenger Hunt Items Completed:

12. Walk on top of the Sydney Harbor Bridge.

14a. See the Sydney Opera House.

19. Learn more about the interesting history of this country originally populated with convicts.