When I went to Sydney last year I went to The Rocks district where a huge gray 30s-era bridge spans central and north Sydney, arching magnificently across the harbor. I noticed people walking on top of this bridge, wearing identical suits, and was told that yes, you can climb the bridge. On my list of Things To Do, this was a highlighted item, but I never knew if or when I'd be able to do so.

 

That would be today, as the vendor sponsored 24 conference attendees for a Climb. I was the only member of the Hong Kong press to do so--the remainder opted for a zoo expedition to see koala bears…vicious eucalyptus-sucking creatures. An Aussie analyst told me today that they are actually stoned out on that eucalyptus, likely a good thing as they really are all claws and bad temperament. Pah. I walked into the Bridge Climb (I'll just call it the BC) delightedly.

 

We were split into two groups of 12. This BC is serious--I don't know of anything similar, they run a LOT of people through there, famous people get their pix on the wall (yes, Nicole Kidman did a BC), they breath-test you for alcohol (0.05 and you stay on the ground), make you fill out a form and lead you in. The staff are young, attractive, enthusiastic--Kareena makes us stand on white dots to size us up and distributes silvery gray backzip overalls. These go on, then you get black plastic overpants. Nothing you brought, except for glasses, can go on the bridge--it all goes into a locker. Everything out of your pockets--you're going over a working bridge and everything needs to be clipped onto your suit lest it fall and smack some commuter's windshield. You get a clip-on strap for your spectacles, a cap with attached cord, gloves that double loop around your wrists…you get the picture.

 

And you get a large belt that cinches tight around your waist and, attached by a short length of cord, your cable-latch. This is a round thingie a bit bigger than a yo-yo full of metal teeth than you run along a wire cable about as thick as a corona cigar. Yes, it runs the entire length of the bridge, and yes, you will be running it along that cable the whole time. Sometimes on the bridge I was glad it was there, other times I felt, this thing wasn't really needed. But as a safety-device both mental and physical, it's essential.  Plus, it was kinda cool--zipping it through the metal brackets along the metal rope.

 

You also get a headset that transmits the voice of your guide, in our case a diminutive and interesting Sydneyite named Annette. The first part of the climb was towards the end of sunlight, a perfect time to marvel at the industrial nature of the structure you're summitting: gray rusted metal, twisting and turning down narrow catwalks single-file, over road and soon enough, sea as we head over the harbor. At times you're walking on metal mesh so you can look straight down at the ground dozens of meters below.

 

Then the ladders: four almost vertical, you simply ascend, remembering to keep at least three points in contact at all times (both hands, one foot, every step). It's a bit of a sprint but takes you to the main arch, which curves over the harbor. Ferries are thick in the water, the Opera House is stunning, the sun lit everything beautifully. You can see a naval base and what appears to be a sandstone fortress out in the middle of the harbor (I asked about it: it was a penal colony that was turned into a lookout but never saw any action…until a US Navy ship mistook it for a Japanese midget submarine in WW2 and took a few potshots at it!). Soon we stopped for our first photo-op--the guide can carry a tethered digicam-but not you, climbin' fool!

 

Who cares, this was superb. We neared the summit, where the navigation light ("Blinky Bill") adorns the bridge's top. Annette tells us that some college student hauled a shopping cart up there late one nite and was found quite soused in it, with no recollection of how he'd managed the stunt. Sunset. More photos.

 

We go back down the other side. A neon-lit amusement park, Luna Park, gleams in the distance, I ask about it. Annette tells us it was formerly the steelworks that produced the beams and rivets for the bridge, and was turned into an amusement park upon bridge-completion to thank Sydney residents for putting up with the noise and detritus of construction. She then said that on her seventh birthday she was at Luna Park when a ride malfunctioned and killed six children, and how it was then and there that she understood her own mortality. As she finished her tale, a commuter train thundering by created a moment of silence, almost on cue.

 

Descending the other side of the arch in twilight, we got some shots snapped with city lights as backdrop. The final descent was a thrill, as we whipped along our by-now-familiar latch/cable combo through twists and turns of  industrial infrastructure. Finish back in the building to unclip everything and de-suit: it's more complex than scuba gear, but there's no pressurized-gases or gravitational changes as you find in the scuba realm. After that, we fill out an evaluation form, select pictures to burn onto CD and head out. Back to the hotel, I made quick copies of the pix onto various USB-memory sticks and off to the airport to return to Hong Kong.