Living in Sydney all my life never took away the splendour of the City. I absolutely love the city lights, the beautiful water on the Harbour, all the amazing places to eat – everything about it makes even thinking about moving away seem impossible.
The Sydney Harbour Bridge. The Cityscape would be incomplete without it. But never in my childhood years, during the long summer nights eating ice cream or the cold, Starbucks-obsessed winters did I ever think I would ever climb the Harbour Bridge. One might assume that it’s a fear of heights that made the very thought of putting myself through that laughable, but rather than a fear of heights, it’s a fear of deep water that scares the pants off of me.
Learning to swim as a kid was horrendous because I hated that my feet couldn’t touch the ground. Granted, being the tiny kid that I was didn’t help me there. But still. If it took that much effort to get me to swim in a pool where my feet couldn’t touch the bottom, what more in an ocean that is practically bottomless?
I know, I know – I’d be climbing the bridge and not diving from it. That logic was totally wasted on me. But the point was to conquer fears, and whilst my fear of deep water has yet to be tackled, my fear of climbing the Bridge has been, and very successfully I might add!
The view was spectacular. The sun on the water and the chilly morning air was absolutely breathtaking (no joke, I had my asthma puffer handy). I don’t regret it one bit, and honestly would jump at the chance to experience it again.
The thing that I took away from the experience? There was nothing stopping me from getting to the top, seeing that incredible view and taking part in one of the most exhilarating experiences in my life thus far except myself. Cliche, I know.
It’s definitely a cliche for a reason.