Beware! I have lots of flight time to blog. Get ready for rapidfire :-) Make sure you read in both directions if you want to make sure you see everything.
Flying from Melbourne to Sydney was highly uneventful. I churned out a blog and ate Quantas's complementary beef pies. With wine. Win.
What was really interesting, however, was flying domestically in Australia. When I arrived at Melbourne airport - they recommend only arriving an hour before you fly - I walked up to the kiosk. I barely looked at it and it spat out my bag tag (ok, this is an exaggeration; typed in my name and destination only). No endless screens about fireworks and crossbows. No haggling over weight limits. Just "here's your bag tag".
Fun fact, did you know that when flying domestically in Australia, there's no liquid limit? Feel free to bring your liter of water. Or ketchup. Or sunscreen.
At security, you don't take anything out of your bags. Nor do you remove your shoes. Step on up.
And then Quantas gave me two pies and a glass of wine. On an 80 minute flight.
I don't know if you can tell, but I was thoroughly impressed. In fact, stay tuned to the next blog for a summary of all 8 of my flights, the perks and annoyances.
But now - we have a lot of Sydney to get through.
If you've ever taken Paris's 6 train - the sea green one - from Orly to the 16th Arrondissement, you'll know that the train chugs along in the dark until it surprisingly emerges right next to the Eiffel Tower, larger than life.
Well in Sydney, you should take the train into the city after dark - much like in Paris. In so doing, you'll discover that the train is hidden underground until it emerges suddenly onto an elevated track at Circular Quay. And there, immediately on the right - much like in Paris - the spectacle of Sydney Harbour is lit up in splendour. The Sydney Harbour Bridge ahead on the right and the magnificent Opera House just behind. Like Paris, to say it's a spectacular welcome is an understatement!
Consider the layout of Circular Quay, as this will be important for the entire blog. The Quay is a bustling ferry terminal - no, I mean really bustling. The train you took to Circular Quay comes in parallel to the waterfront, steps away from the 6 wharves that service countless New South Wales ferries, coming and going by the minute. Standing at the foot of the train escallator and facing the wharves, you look out to the right. Beyond Wharf 1, a long promenade with restaurants, bars, and shops juts out into the harbour. At its end is, of course, the Opera House. One can walk along the water all the way around the Opera, gaining spectacular views of the water.
Looking to the left, past Wharf 6, the land also extends out a really really long way. Immediately along the waterfront is a cruise terminal. Each day a new ship arrived at sunrise and left just after sunset, a grand sight in the Harbour, moving amongst the ferries like a lumbering rhino amongst scurrying field mice. Behind the cruise terminal, the land rises up to a promentory. Old buildings line the steep slope, an area known as the Rocks. At the top of the Rocks, the Sydney Harbour bridge begins its grand arc across the Harbour. Beyond the bridge: the Parramatta River. Beyond the Opera: the River disappears around a couple corners, where it empties into the Pacific.
For this weekend, I was staying across the river in an Airbnb on McMahon Point. So, having come off the train, I switched to a ferry and off we went. Only 30 minutes in Sydney and I already had the best views of Australia's two most iconic structures. The ferry crossed the river paralleling the bridge. Slipping under the bridge along the north embankment, we stopped at an old fashioned fun park: Luna Park. As with many such parks, the park entrance was a giant grinning face, through which you would walk into the mouth. All lit up in blinking lights and popular for the weekend.
But I stayed on the ferry, which moved a few hundred yards up river to McMahon Point. I and a bunch of others got off on dock packed with fishers. Although weighed down by my bags, I couldn't help but to turn around and stand agog at the view: the glowing Opera House, perfectly framed below the deck of the Harbour Bridge... dozens of skyscrapers just off to the right twinkled and glowed as a perfect backdrop. My Airbnb was a couple hundred yards along a riverside park with the same great views of the city.
By this time it was after 22:00. I crashed.
Stan's two-day leadership thing had finished on Thursday, but he decided to stick around and see the city with me. So we arranged to meet up at a cafe Saturday morning. Coming out of the Airbnb, the air was thick with humidity and wildfire - "bushfire" smoke. It was going to be 38 C (100 F) and humid; this was compounded by an overnight breeze that made the distant bushfire settle its smoke through the region.
The perfect day for a hike. Right?
So I hopped on a bus heading away from the river and the city and I met Stan at the Brewmance cafe in North Sydney. Known for tasty food and awesome coffee art, it was also conveniently located for a bus we needed to take to our hike. Stan had superb french toast while I had a Bulgogi breakfast wrap. Because tasty Korean BBQ for breakfast sounded like a win (and it was).
After taking a second bus (you will see that Sydney has an amazing public transit network), we found ourselves at the Spit bridge, ready to walk around 10km (6mi) along the coast to a beach area called Manly. This popular coastal walk is supposedly a must for visitors so I was excited to see what it was all about. The walk wove in and out of numerous little inlets off of Fig Tree Cove (which is separate from the Parramatta River). It was such a hazy and humid day that it was kind of a brutal walk. What few breezes we could get were treasured. All along the way, people were out in the water, which was a transparent blue-green that played nicely amongst flat but eroded, orange rocks.
I would learn that Sydney area is very much a beach area, much like Laguna Beach or other parts of Southern California. Short but steep cliffs perch above the water everywhere. Nonetheless, homes - like the trees - cling to all of the available surfaces, competing with each other for real estate. The water here is the common ground: the cove plays host to sailboats, small motor boats, and plenty of swimmers. In the woods where we walked, we saw massive lizards; out on the rocks, the sunbathers lounged like lizards in the sun.
At first I was unimpressed with the walk; just hot. But as we continued, the beauty of the place grew on me. Close to Spit Bridge, the water had been a bit grungy, but walking towards the outlet of the cove, the forest, rocks, and water were lovely, if not idyllic. A couple beachfronts were packed with people and these also revealed a few spectacular houses there on the spit. We stopped for iced coffee (with ice cream) at a dock bar. Continuing, we came across a few bush turkeys foraging amongst the undergrowth. These, along with the lizards, were good fun.
At some point the trail moved up away from the water and we emerged on top of a wide head. Athletic fields had been installed here, so the lack of trees meant that we totally baked. Leaving the fields, the trail descended slowly through a burnt out area where we still had no cover. And we still baked.
Thankfully we got back to the water, which we followed for the rest of the walk. By the time we got to Manly, we had enjoyed the lovely walk. But unlike literally everyone else - in swimsuits in the water - we were soaked solely with sweat.
Without looking around Manly, we hopped on the "fast ferry" to go back to Sydney. The breeze was a great break from the pounding heat - enough that we decided to keep walking from Circular Quay. For the city portion of the adventure, we walked the perimeter of the Opera house. On the back side of the Opera is Sydney's Royal Botanical Garden, which we criss-crossed, admiring the views, the flora, and the countless bin chickens. From there we walked into the interior of the city, going through Hyde Park and Chinatown (stopping for a BLT) before getting to Darling Harbour. It was only 15:00.
Darling Harbour is an awesome area. It's a tiny cove backing on an entertainment area, including the ICC convention center. This area was mobbed with cheerleaders, as there was some large cheer competition happening. As we approached the cove, we noticed that a crowd had gathered - we were minutes away from a Christmas-themed jetpack demo! To all your favorite Mariah Carey and Michael Buble hits, three elves wearing hydro jetpacks did stunts in the cove while hyping the crowd. An elf on a water ski did stunts while clinging to the back of a speedboat. Finally Santa went around wearing a Hawaiian shirt and waved at everyone. Warm weather Christmas. Weird.
Stan and I kept walking. He seemed to know the architectural/structural engineering background of most of the buildings in Sydney, so I heard all the backstories. The angst, the issues, and ultimately the successes. We came to a brand new fishmarket with a huge and impressive timber glulam canopy. It was super impressive in its scale, but unfortunately it hadn't opened yet so we couldn't go in. So we hit a pub (The Lord Wolseley Inn) to cool down. Again.
After circling back around to Darling Harbour we had some gyozas and perched ourselves up on a bridge over the cove. A brief spate of rain and an uptick in wind cooled the air dramatically. After sunset, we were perfectly positioned for a repeat of the jetpacks (with roman candles!) and finally an awesome fireworks show. I dropped Stan at the bus and went for a Christmas market wander. At long last I caught the ferry back across the Harbour, went into my Airbnb, and crashed. My total damage? 15 miles.
THE NEXT MORNING I was up with the chickens. BRIDGE DAY! I caught the first ferry across (technically to the Barangaroo dock) and walked up into the Rocks to BridgeClimb Sydney. BridgeClimb opened in 1998 and has allowed people to climb the Harbour Bridge ever since. As a structural engineer, this was right up my alley.
Since I had booked this well-before Stan knew he'd be in town, I did this alone. I arrived around 9:30 and after a briefing, my group of 8 started its prep. Unlike Melbourne airport, security here was super strict. Nothing loose could be taken on the bridge. No phones, no earrings, no wristbands, no wallets, nothing. We were all breathalyzed to make sure we hadn't been drinking. We all had to wear fantastic space-age blue and grey jumpsuits. We were given various other items: a hat, climbing harness with come-along, pack with built-in rain jacket, a water bottle that had been tethered to a holster, a lanyard for attaching glasses, and a headset with radio. Literally everything was clipped onto our harnesses. Having left behind everything but glasses in a locker, we still had to go through a metal detector. I set it off. Goodness knows with what.
Feeling like a space shuttle crew, we were ready to go. We walked through a stone portal high above the Rocks and slid our come-alongs onto a braided steel cable. For the next 3 hours, we'd be attached at the hip.
The portal door exited to a catwalk below the deck of the bridge. Look at a photo of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. At its center you have the two massive arches that support the roadway via suspension struts. on the sides of the arches are massive stone pylons that frame the channel. Outside the pylons, there is what we call approach bridge - many bridges have one or more approach spans leading up to the main span. It's easy to miss these, but they're often huge in their own right.
In this case, there were five or six approach spans maybe 20-30 m (60-90 ft) high over the pedestrian area. The catwalk was tucked up under the deck, but still ran through what we call K-frame or V-frame structure. As we pushed along our come-alongs, our guide started introducing us to the bridge and envrionment. This lasted for the first few hundred feet.
When we reached the stone pylon, I noticed that the center area under the road was hollow. We climbed a couple flights of stairs to bring us closer to (but still under) the road deck. Going around the edge of the right pylon, we were now technically in the main span.
Look closely at that image of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and you'll notice that the top chord of the truss doesn't touch the pylon. Instead, a vertical king post connects the top chord to the bottom chord. Thus, literally all of the work of resisting the thrust of the bridge is being done by a single pin where the bottom chord meets the base of the pylon.
So the pylons are just for show: a depression-era extravagance to boost the spirits of Australians.
The bridge was completed in 1932 after eight years of construction. It originally carried six lanes of traffic, two rail lines, and two tram lines. Much later, the tram lines were replaced by two additional traffic lanes. While the idea for the crossing had gone back well into the 19th century, it was only in the 20th century that the technology was capable of constructing it. Remember, the Brooklyn Bridge was the longest bridge in the world when it was completed in the early 1880s. The George Washington Bridge and Golden Gate Bridge were completed in the 1930s as well. So with those suspension bridges, this truss bridge was right at home.
The way the bridge was constructed was fascinating. They started the construction from each end of the arch and worked upward toward the middle. A crane followed the top chord of the bridge, lifting components into place. The south leg of the arch was a few weeks ahead of the north leg. This allowed the builder to use steel ropes attached to the leading edges to fine tune the arch alignment as they went.
Returning to the king posts - the tops of the king posts, where they meet the top chord, were originally anchored back into the rock. This prevented the arches from collapsing into the harbor during construction until the two sides met in the middle. Then those king post anchors were removed. The deck and pylons were constructed last. Since I was curious, I asked: today one of the pylons has a control tower with CCTV. One has a museum, and two have ventilation equipment for exhausting the much newer Sydney Harbour Tunnel.
Leaving the pylon behind us, we clambered along the catwalk amongst the framing. The catwalk is on the outside of the fascia beam, meaning we had spectacular views of the Opera House, Circular Quay, and the Harbour. When we reached the massive bottom chord, we took a crossover underneath the fascia girder and climbed some stairs through the deck onto the arch of the chord. For a moment, traffic was whizzing by on both sides in lanes 7 and 8.
We started to climb the lower arch of the truss. The steps were surprisingly shallow, so the walking was easy. Also, the chord was maybe 10 ft wide and the stair case only 3 ft wide - so there was absolutely no fear or risk of falling. All this time, we pushed our come-alongs next to us, painstakingly navigating them over joints and around corners in the cabling. As we climbed, the views became better and better. Our guide pointed out LED lighting and spotlights hat have already been installed for New Years Eve. We even passed two lighting technicians doing their thing.
Near the apex of the lower arch, we crossed a catwalk over the roadway and the trains to the west fascia of the structure. From there we went up a staircase of 83 stairs, bringing us to the top of the top chord of the bridge. At that point, we stood next to a huge flagpole bearing the flag of Australia's indigenous community. The guide had pointed out some sections of scaffolding along the way - the State is slowly painting the entire structure over seven years.
(The guide said this was for the bridge's upcoming 100th anniversary, but frankly I think it was good and necessary routine maintenance. There were quite a few areas where the existing paint had peeled back and the steel had started to rust. Overall the structure was, I thought, in quite good condition - but the fresh paint will significantly extend its service life and obviously make it look good too.)
We immediately started to descend on the top chord of the northwest corner, heading downward toward Luna Park. Even though we descended quite far from the apex to the top of the kingpost, a photo of the bridge will show that we were still very very high up. If you can imagine it, the bridge was built entirely by workers with no safety harnesses or PPE. They rode the cranes and did all the riveting at elevation. They estimate that of 6 million rivets in the structure, 5 million were installed at ground level and 1 million were installed while perched precariously over the water. The white hot rivets were tossed from a baker to a catcher with a pail of sand. The riveter then pounded them into place. Apparently they estimate that some 10,000 rivets were probably dropped into the harbor. I'm surprised it wasn't more - I wouldn't want to catch white hot rivets while balancing in the ripping wind so high up in the air!
Upon reaching the kingpost, we again crossed over the roadway. This catwalk is called George Street after one of the busiest roads in the old city - it was so nicknamed by the construction workers who used this as one of just a couple ways to cross from one fascia to the other. Looking along the roadway, you could see the gently sloping arch of the road, which was extremely busy with all forms of traffic.
Now at the northeast kingpost, we began climbing the top chord back to the apex of the structure. These were decidedly the best views yet since we were facing the Opera House and Circular Quay. Up and up we went. The wind was so strong, it blew off my hat twice - no matter since it was clipped to my harness. We were all having a spectacular time.
At the apex of the top chord on the east side, we stood next to the second flagpole, bearing the Australian flag. Here we stood and rested, gazing over the incredible views. Our guide pointed out Fort Denison, which had been a tiny rocky outcrop in the middle of the original harbor. At various points, incoming convicts were put here for processessing. At one point in the 1800s, a person convicted of murder was sent to Sydney. He then murdered one of the other convicts, so the government decided to make an example of him. He was sentenced to hang in chains on Fort Denison (which wasn't yet a fort) - they hung him out there and left his body there for four years as a warning to all incoming people that the government meant business. Much later, in the early 20th century, two American warships slipped into the harbour one night, undetected. Allies, yes, but when the Australians woke up in surprise to two unanticipated warships, they realized they were vastly under-protected. So they built the fort and stationed cannon for protection.
Anyway, there we were, 134 m (400 ft) over the water. 75 m (225 ft) over the roadway. The flags were fully unfurled in the billowing wind and we felt on top of the world.
As we crossed over the roadway a third time, we passed a 7 ft tall red beacon. The overall center of the bridge. We looked down at the road so far below. And boy did it seem a long way down to the lane numbers 4 and 5 below. I was loving every second of it.
Seeing as we were stuck in the same order thanks to our come-alongs, I got to know the adjacent people a bit. In front of me were Dani and Dan from the UK (lol, much was made of having Dani, Dan, and Dan at the front of the group) and behind me was Aldo from NSW. Further back were Sandy and Kim from NY/Miami respectively and another couple whose names I didn't remember. Interestingly, everyone was extremely gung-ho for the trip. No one had even the slightest apprehension about climbing. This was great as it meant we all cruised along. Dan was a professional horse rider, in terms of competition, teaching, and shows. Aldo was an electrical engineer. They were both pretty interesting and it was nice chatting in between the guide, Mike's, commentary. As the resident structural engineer, I ended up asking lots of structural questions - but I also held back a bit and tried to avoid being "that guy". As far as I know, no one minded. Also, when it seemed appropriate, I'd point out things to Dan and Aldo. I think they enjoyed that too.
Crossing the apex, we returned down the 83 stairs we had climbed. This brought us down to the apex of the lower chord. From there we headed south, descending along the western face. When we reached the deck, we again crossed below the fascia beam. Looking down through the grating, there was nothing but air and the open grating between me and the water. Just as we passed, a subway train zoomed by right next to us. Imagine having the wheels of a train at 40 mph (70 kph) at a distance of 5 ft from your face! Thankfully it was shielded, but we definitely felt the vibrations of the train in the bridge all around us. I was pretty surprised that we weren't forced to wear hard hats and safety glasses.
We again followed the catwalk back along the bottom of the deck to the kingpost, passed the pylon, and then along the approach spans to the portal where we had entered. Even though this experience was as-anticipated, it was still unbelievable. I have nothing but respect for the ironworkers who built these incredible structures back in the day and I'm grateful that NSW has allowed tourists to have this amazing experience.
I think back to my behind-the-scenes tour of the George Washington Bridge as an undergrad, which was every bit as amazing. And yet, these opportunities are very few and far between. Unless you go through SPRAT climbing training and dedicate your career to inspection, it's very hard to get to climb such epic structures. What an experience.
Do we think this post is too long yet? Nah, I'm going to carry on. Go get a drink if you need one. I have one.
Stan met me in the BridgeClimb foyer. We had just a couple hours before he had to head to the airport, so we did what we do best: we walked. We went through the weekend market in the streets of the Rocks, passing under the bridge's approach spans at street level. I grabbed a tasty chicken and chorizo paella from one vendor while Stan went for a pastry. From there we walked counter clockwise around the promentory following the water. After going past a couple wharves (and grabbing coffee and a brownie), we walked along the Barangaroo Reserve, a park that was highly manicured but designed to look somewhat natural. Lots of orange, weathered rocks. Very nice. Following the water, we headed almost as far as the Darling Harbour, but we turned left and up into the heart of the city. This time I dropped Stan at the Wynyard station where he headed for the airport.
As for me, I headed for Circular Quay. The weather today was much much cooler - overcast, windy, and about 22 C (74 F). I caught a ferry to Cockatoo Island, which had been Australia's primary shipbuilding island for a long time. Today deserted barring a campground, screaming seagulls and a clinking aluminum soda can tumbleweed gave the island an entirely eerie atmosphere. Battleship-sized buildings sat totally empty, with a faint greenish light peering through corrugated plastic sheeting. The wind outside was vivacious, giving these silent spaces a horrid persona. Worse, only a couple other people were walking around - but I was sure grateful for them. I did a fairly quick lap before catching the ferry back to the city.
To finish out the day, I headed to a hotel in the Rocks. My colleague had recommended that I check out the Glenmore, a hotel-pub with a great rooftop view. Notwithstanding the cold windy weather, the roof was packed with an event when I arrived, so I took a beer down a level and camped out in an empty club room with some cricket on TV. The room was really cool actually: plush blue carpet, leather sofas and chairs, and a big round table before a fireplace topped with a stag's head. *takes interior design notes*. A view of the opera house out the window had been blocked, but seeing the cruise of the day depart, I decided I'd pop up to the rooftop again. Feeling enchanted with the view, I ordered a plate of grilled barrimundi over roasted curried potatoes and another beer and feasted, very content.
That night, in the dark, I crossed the bridge again, by foot - this time using the public sidewalk. Overhead, the truss stoically stood proud against the night sky. In the distance, on the steps of the Opera House, a concert got underway - none other than Parcels, whom I'd seen in Melbourne a couple nights before. I stopped at regular intervals to take it all in. What a night! And there, flying around, were those giant black flying things! Several of them, each flying solo through the night. I had a thought....
Did you guess what they were?
No? Well I'm going with flying foxes - a species of giant bat. Barely flapping, mostly gliding - with the iconic bat-shaped wing flaps. They were huge! But there, with Parcels and the view and the bridge and the night, they were perfect.
***
The final day of Sydney and my trip promised to be an excellent one. Thanks to ongoing jetlag, I again woke up early without an alarm and caught the ferry in to Circular Quay. When you think of Australia, you undoubtedly think of two structures - so today was my day for the Opera House. Grabbing a somewhat average flat white and pain au chocolat from the Opera Bar, I queued for the first tour of the day.
We had a really excellent guide so here are a few quick-hit facts from the tour:
- The Opera House was conceived out of a design competition with 220 global entries by a little-known architect named Jorn Utzon.
- The problem is that while the design was iconic, no one knew how it could be built. Engineers and Utzon grappled with it for ages; it ultimately took 16 years to build and was shockingly over-budget.
- For all that, it was entirely paid for out of donations and fundraising. No tax money was spent.
- The key to the engineering was that the shells were sections taken from the surface of a sphere with slices made through it. The shells of the structure were cast painstakingly and then post-tensioned to bring them to the right curvature.
- Construction was in three phases: the pedestal/foundations, the shells, and then the two performance halls, which are independent structures inside the shells. The foundations house 14 stories worth of parking deck and loading dock, which are totally hidden from the surface.
- All of the constructruction materials are from Australia except the structural glass - the first of its kind in the world - and the tiles on the shell. The tiles are of two types (matte and gloss) to get just the right amount of reflection when you're looking at it. They're also used for projection (the projector is across the Quay up in the Rocks.
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