The Travels of a Gentleman Taff 2005 travel blog

I climbed Sydney Harbour Bridge today. I have to confess to being a little bored by it. The view was stunning it's true and it was fun and I'm glad I did it, but the actual experience left me a little cold (literally- there was a 15-20 mph wind up there). It just didn't seem that intrepid somehow. I can't really say what was wrong with it, but as we were coming down I was glad because I was hungry and bored and was fed up with being hooked to a wire. At one point, when we were crossing the carriageways, about 40m up, from one side to the other, I felt like jumping off, not through any morbid sort of impulse, but just because it felt quite claustrophobic being hooked up to the 8 other climbers and the bridge safety wire.

It's ironic that I feel more liberated being on the train. Somehow being locked in a metal tube with strangers, travelling a pre-determined pace, on rails from which we cannot deviate and adhering to a timetable should give me a greater sense of freedom than hanging off a giant coathanger an unsafe distance over deep water, but there you are. Perhaps it's the everchanging scenery; perhaps if they projected scenery on the walls of aeroplanes we would have no air rage and no-one would feel like flying them into tall buildings?

The hotel in Sydney was living it large; 23rd floor, 2 bed apartment (Itried to sleep in both but had to get up for a rest), with one wall consisting of window giving views over Circular Quay and the Harbour. You could not avoid looking at the Opera House except by looking at the Bridge. I even lashed out on room service steak and beers from the mini-bar, then lounged around all evening in my complementary, hugfe white towelling bathrobe, whilst I washed every piece of clothing I could in the en-suite washer/dryer. And waht did all this luxury teach me? I'd rather be able to afford to say I don't need any of this than not be able to afford it. I like luxuries, but they are best when they are just that.

And what is Sydney like? It's like London's younger sibling; there is definately a family resemblance, but it's younger, fresher, better looking and healthier as it doesn't smoke and drink so much, it's not as fat and doesn't look so tired and dirty first thing in the morning. (I know what you're thinking Hel; you're the exception that proves the rule!)

Oh and Michael Hutchence must be a real dickhead if he chose Sydney as the place to top himself.

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