By JOANNE RAE RAMIREZ |
It was the height of daring. Literally. In college, whenever there were sports fests, I’d only sign up for the Scrabble competition. But on our first day in Auckland, New Zealand on a media familiarization tour organized by Philippine Airlines (PAL) and Tourism New Zealand (TNZ), barely four hours after landing on terra firma after a 10-hour flight from Manila, I was getting zipped up in an orange jumpsuit for a walk around the top of the 220-meter-high Sky Tower, the tallest free-standing structure in the Southern Hemisphere.
One member of our seven-man group begged off, “because I still want to attend my grandson’s christening.” No amount of cajoling could convince him.
But since the majority of the group, mostly millennials, opted for the SkyWalk, this mother of a millennial succumbed to peer pressure. That day, we were all peers.
“Don’t worry,” our host Carole Tredrea of Tourism New Zealand assured us, “No one has ever died from the SkyWalk in New Zealand!” Last year, she accompanied a 101-year-old Indian woman and her 80-year-old son during their SkyWalk. The woman, who was in Auckland to join the World Masters being held in the city that year, is still very much alive.
As we were waiting for our turn for the 30-minute SkyWalk, I perused the photos at the lobby and had an idea of how it looked up there, on a narrow walkway that circled the Sky Tower. The meter-wide walkway was 192 meters or about 58 floors above the city. I can do this! I hoped.
We (Carole of TNZ, Berg Go of Travel Now, Chino Hernandez of LifestyleAsia, Pat Cendaña of Travel Life and blogger David Guison) then took an elevator to the enclosed Observation Deck.
Then we walked on tempered glass that had a clear view of the world down below. Those were our baby steps to a giant adventure.
With no one backing out of the SkyWalk (which costs adult tourists NZ$150 per person) after the glass walk — not for the faint of heart, either — we were led to a holding room where we were strapped to a harness, ropes dangling from a pulley secured to our harness by a carabine. We had another safety briefing (we had one every step of the way). I felt like a baby in a car seat with all the straps around my thighs and my torso, except that I was being strapped not to keep me in but to keep me out — out there, where I could stare down at the cars 58 floors below my feet. I was strapped up so that I could be unleashed — from my fears, my reservations, my inhibitions.
A strong gust of autumn wind (it is autumn now in Auckland) greeted me as the sliding doors opened to the sky. Yes, the sky. There were no handrails, no protective glass barriers, nothing but thin air and about 10 Hail Marys.
The Sky Tower, edible version/www.instagram. com/giapokitchen
Our 120-meter SkyWalk wasn’t a stroll. Many times, we were dared, with supervision, to go over the edge. Kate, our guide, showed us to do some tricks, the very things we teach our children not to do. She asked us to stand over the edge, with only our heels on the walkway while holding on to our rope. Then she asked us to let go of the rope and look down.
Then we were taught to do it in reverse, on the other edge of the walkway with our backs to the sea and the city. This time, our heels were sticking out of the ledge. She asked us to straighten our legs and lean back, supported by a strap but with only the air as our backrest, and lie back like a limp rag doll.
“Let go of the rope,” Kate commanded. Most of us (including yours truly) did and lived to tell our tale (and we have a video to prove it!). After getting the hang of it — literally — we were asked to make several poses for Kate’s GoPro.
After all, as PAL’s Jonathan Gesmundo told us earlier, “If you have no photo of it, it didn’t happen.”
That wasn’t all. Still in a harness attached to two ropes attached to a pulley, we were also asked to slowly walk forward and backward while looking up.
My late dad Frank Mayor had always encouraged me to aspire for greater heights. To reach for the sky. However, I don’t think he ever imagined that clumsy me, his “Little Lota,” would go this far up.
But I did it! It happened. And it wasn’t lonely at the top.
***
Our exhilarated group capped the night with an earthly treat — ice cream. Like the Sky Tower, the ice cream served at Giapo Haute Ice Cream were marvels of engineering. One was molded like giant squid, chocolate covered but filled with ice cream; one was of the shape of the Sky Tower itself, perched on a cone. For its owner and creative director Giapo Grazioli, the Sky Tower is symbolic of Auckland.
“Just looking at its height, it makes us feel more equal in example,” says Giapo. Italian-born, he fell in love with New Zealand almost two decades ago, brought his wife Annarosa with him, and decided to make Auckland their own ice cream cone.
They churn ideas from technology, art, and science when sculpting the elaborate wonder-cones they are known for. They want ice cream to be an experience. And how.
After our courage on the edge, we got our just desserts.
We conquered two Sky Towers, all in half a day. 100% awesome!
(Philippine Airlines flies direct from Manila to Auckland thrice weekly. For inquiries, call PAL at 855-8888. Those interested to do the SkyWalk may check www.skywalk.co.nz. Giapo’s may be reached through Tel. No. +64 9-550 3677, e-mail anna@giapo.com or visit www.giapo.com. Article first published in The Philippine STAR Allure)
