Impulses are interesting things. We all have them. Whether it’s reaching for the extra (unnecessary) cookie, wanting that new pair of jeans (guilty as charged), or feeling your heart beat increase spontaneously at the sight of a long absent friend, we make these decisions and feel the repercussions of our impulses for better or worse. My trip to Sydney this past weekend was full of impulsiveness at its best. It may have been a bit impulsive to book our flights and hostel a mere 36 hours before our 4:00 am departure from College Crescent, but Kelly, Maddie, and I set out nonetheless to the unknown land of New South Wales, Australia that fateful Friday morning.
I think it is safe to assume that all of us passed through elementary school with images of outstanding international architectural feats shoved in our faces as often as Oreos. The Great Pyramids, the Colosseum, the Eiffel Tower-we know them all by sight, whether we have visited them personally or not. Sydney Opera House, anyone? Upon arrival and check-in to perhaps the worst temporary home we could have chosen (for future reference, for your own sake, never, under any circumstance, choose willingly to stay at Harbor City Backpackers Hostel), we wistfully wandered Sydney’s Royal Botanic Gardens, taking paths winding through a horticultural heaven toward the harbor and, at last, there it was-across the bay, the sail-like coves of the Opera House stood brilliantly under the dull sunlight. We were nearly stopped in our tracks with just one glance at the opaline domes. And such was our weekend-a series of adventures neatly folded around a continual staring contest with the Sydney Harbor in all of its glory. This first walk around the Harbor led to my impulsive booking of a solo Bridge Climb and an activity tour of the surrounding Blue Mountains for our traveling trio.
On Saturday morning, despite suffering the nervous consequences of my impulsive decision from the day before, I ventured all by my lonesome to 3 Cumberland Road, The Rocks, to begin my Bridge Climb. While Maddie and Kelly headed to Mosman Bay, I climbed endless ladders and steel steps to reach the pinnacle of Sydney sightseeing. Despite two instances of overwhelming wariness (mesh catwalks which loom perilously 400 feet over open water), I am endlessly proud of myself for overcoming my long-lasting fear of heights. Having climbed alone, I was able to stand at the true “top” of Sydney, looking out upon the various nooks and crannies of the metropolis, feeling a sense of selfish pride for having the view all to myself, as a result of my own effort and confidence.
Monday took us deep into the heart of the Blue Mountains, named for the tint given off by the evaporation of eucalyptus oil emanating from the trees and meeting the sunlight. We booked the tour not knowing what we were getting ourselves into, not really having any expectations for the perfect day it was to become. Impulse again, and thank god for it. We saw Jameson valley, Wentworth Falls, Katoomba Falls, the Three Sisters (aboriginal rock formation), the mountain town of Leura; we rode the steepest railway in the southern hemisphere, as well as a glass-bottomed cable car across the valley, and saw the site of the 2000 Sydney Olympics; we petted koalas and kangaroos and learned the proper way to throw a boomerang. Such incomparably thrilling things were shown to us that day and the three of us were endlessly thankful that we’d been willing to shell out the $88 to go on the tour into the unknown, which turned out to be the tour of a lifetime.
I can safely say that my sojourn to Sydney was a most impressionable time, if for the sole reason that I let my instincts, my impulses, guide me toward fearlessness-for the first time in my life, I took extraordinary risks and learned to reap the rewards of truly seizing the day and filling it with as much as my eyes could hold. I think the moral of the story is to chase those impulses, to trust them, to let them guide you-to reach those heights, hear those sounds, see those sights-and to be better for having trusted yourself.
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