Looking down through the enormous structure I saw the cars speeding by. Below these the harbour of Sydney glittered in the sunlight. If I thought about the bridge’s height I may have not walked its arch to its summit. But I did.

The Sydney Harbour bridge stands at 440 feet high from the waters level and stretches 160 feet across the harbour itself. The steel of the bridge weighs over 52,000 tonnes and has four gigantic concrete pillars to support its massive size. Just another walk in the park eh?

In February 2013, my mum and I undertook a mammoth trip to Australia and our last stop was Sydney. Wandering the city meant constantly being in the shadow of the skyscrapers but out on the harbours you really felt the fresh air return to your lungs. We spent a lot of time wandering the harbour and exploring the beaches by ferry and bus. It was so intricate with its coves and tree and rock dotted cliffs that it was hard to turn away from. The islands of the harbour itself were stunning and for a few hours we whiled away our time on Shark Island, just the two of us. As the only visitors we were the king of our own castle and it felt very strange to be on such a small piece of land in one of the most known harbours in the entire world. 

Sydney has many jewels in her crown and yet no one can deny the alluring pull of the Harbour bridge. Seeing in the New Year before many of us it is the emblem of future celebrations. Climbing the bridge began in 1988 and now it was our turn. 

Nervous about a new and potentially physically tiring experience, we approached the offices for our time slot. The guys leading the walk were so friendly and enthusiastic it was hard to find time to be scared. These guys literally put you through the paces by bringing out a replica staircase for you to practise your moves on. You need to practise in order to get used to the belt and harness you wear that is attached to the static line on the bridge that keeps you safe. Connecting points of the static line require the climber to tug slightly on the ball mechanism that otherwise glides on its way. With a few staircases to navigate, and all at different heights within the bridge, they want everyone to feel as comfortable as possible and therein the rehearsal makes sense. Practise makes perfect and all that.

Next came the styling. Standing around with our group, the ‘dude’ in charge gathered our climbing outfits and said it would be wise to keep just our underwear on underneath. Intrigued, we took the offerings of clothing and stepped into the makeshift dressing rooms. The material of the climbing attire reminded me of the shell suits I have seen in 80’s movies and I wondered how my body would fare in the midday heat. The ankle and wrist cuffs were elasticated and gathered in. I wondered if my shell suit would become a sweat suit. Thinking that climbing the bridge was hardly a fashion parade made wearing the blue and grey suits a tad easier. A tad. To keep items from dropping to the road below, our hats, sunglasses, sweat cloth and earphones were all attached to the clothing. It all felt very technical. 

The lead was taken by a member of staff who was able to talk us through the walk with his mouthpiece that transmitted to our walkie talkie style set ups. We emerged from the training area onto the steels of the inner bridge. Attached to it securely gave reason to relax. Focus at first was on the left right left right march of our feet until we were told a duck and step over was needed. A steel girder blocked the way ahead for both feet and head. And you therefore have to take a large step over while ducking your head under. The man in front of me turned to say something to his companion and hit his head clear into the steel beam. The ‘dong’ sound rang out dull and loud under the roadway. 

The climb itself passes without much trouble. Even the steps up and over the bridge are not enough trouble to be called taxing. They are very shallow steps which makes the whole process that much easier. It is a shame you cannot take a camera with you as every step warrants a snap of the lens. 

As you reach the top of the bridge you are graced with the wind sent by the gods to cool down your slick body. Assumptions were right, in those suits, there is no place for sweat to escape. At the top you are given enough time to pause. And what a reason to pause in life. High above the cars, boats and water of this powerhouse of a city you are an ant. An ant with the most incredible sweeping views. The harbour stretches to the Tasmanian sea and beyond. Ferries moor up beside cruise ships. People look up at you from the shadows of the Opera House and Mrs Macquaries chair. 

It is a strange feeling to behold the world from such an icon. You feel both insignificant and important all at the same time. Insignificant due to its dominance against your own in this world and important enough to be allowed to straddle its history and power. You quite literally feel on top of the world. 

At first you don’t accept that you have done it, but when you cross the middle of the bridge and start your descent, you realise it is over. That thing you were most nervous about was amazing and you’d, quite frankly, do it again in a heartbeat. On the descent, you find you have to go down a staircase backwards, watching the others go first shows you just what pace to take and your nerves are beaten. As you reach the top, a bottle of water is poured behind a whirring fan and its drenching, coolness brings your face back to life. It was not 15 minutes ago when the wind froze the smile on your face as you posed for the photographer at the bridge’s highest point. The smile has been there since. 

The climb was everything you hadn’t expected. It was so much more in every single way.