The sun is shining; the champagne flowing liberally: a couple hundred of Sydney’s most committed partiers gather in a sacred space to celebrate the dawn of another beautiful, warm spring Sunday: and, just maybe, the dawn of a brighter era for the community.
The Bridge has long been an institution of the Sydney scene: a gritty, decaying remnant of the city’s glory days as a carefree hub of nightlife, culture, and exploration. A place of characters, of colour, of energy, of life. Time has stood still here: it stands, enigmatic, inexplicably unravaged by lockouts, lockdowns, the Liberals, and “law and order”.