Phantom of the Opera at Handa — Sydney showed off and we were not ready
I have a habit of making ambitious plans and then panicking about the cost later. Within two weeks of arriving in Sydney, I stumbled across an article highlighting the major performances coming to the city in 2026 and immediately bought four tickets to Phantom of the Opera at the Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour for its 40th anniversary. They were not cheap. We had also just learned that Adam would not be keeping his job with Intuit. But April 30th seemed so far away, and surely Adam would have a job by then.
Spoiler: he is still looking. But we were going anyway.
April 30th fell on a Thursday, which wasn't ideal - the kids had to miss soccer training (practice) and came straight home from school to get dressed and head to the train. Ellie was excited. Remy was not. He made his feelings known from the moment he left school, through getting dressed, and all the way to the train station. It was wearing on Adam and me, but we pushed through because we were not missing this.
It's an hour on the train and then a short water taxi ride from the Opera House to the Handa Opera on Mrs Macquarie's Point. The weather was absolutely perfect - clear skies, no rain, and just chilly enough that we were genuinely grateful for the sweaters we'd thrown in the bag just in case. There were fun photo ops set up for the audience while waiting for the doors to open, and four pop-up restaurants serving food and drinks around the venue. We aimed to arrive right at 5 pm to take advantage of happy hour, which turned out to be too early, and the old-fashioned drinks we had our hearts set on weren't available that night. We pivoted to margaritas and then beer and wine, tried a couple of the food stands, and shared everything family style. The kids tried everything we put in front of them without complaint, which felt like its own kind of win.
With almost an hour before the performance, we just kept taking in the view - the Opera House in front of us, the Harbour Bridge behind it, and flying foxes beginning to wake up and circle overhead as the sky darkened. The kids grew restless and started running around, so we took them on a little exploring loop and settled into our seats about half an hour before showtime. We had a great view, and the kids were immediately fascinated watching the crew maneuver the chandelier into position by crane.
Then the performance began.
The stage is floating. Literally floating on the harbour. You're reminded of this throughout the show because you can hear the docks creaking as the waves move underneath - and far from being a distraction, it adds something. A low, ambient eeriness that is completely unique to this venue and honestly perfect for this show. There were pyrotechnics, fireworks, and the chandelier was a character in its own right. When it crashed down at the end of the first act, it didn't quite hit the way it does on Broadway, but it was still a moment.
I kept glancing over at Ellie throughout the first half. She was watching me watch the show, turning to catch my reaction at every dramatic moment and giving me her own face in return - eyes wide, hand over mouth, pure theatre kid energy. Then I'd look over to Remy, the boy who had complained the entire way here, and he was completely still. Captivated. He would not have admitted it for anything in the world.
Intermission hit, and the crowd funnelled towards the bathrooms and concessions, and it quickly got a little overwhelming. A staff member appeared next to Ellie and me in the crowd and asked how we were enjoying the show. Ellie lit up and gave her a full animated review on the spot. The woman listened, smiled, and then asked if we had a program. When I said we didn't, she handed us a voucher for a free one - along with four vouchers for a free snack and four vouchers for a free drink. Just like that. We redeemed every single one and went back to our seats feeling like we'd won something.
The second half didn't let up. The Phantom himself felt like a more prominent presence, and the whole thing built to a finish that left us quiet for a moment before the applause. It was a wonderful way to experience this show in its 40th anniversary year. This will be a lifelong memory for our family - I am sure of it.
There was a weight to the evening that I haven't mentioned yet. Adam's grandfather was in hospice, and the reality of that had been sitting with us all week. And as we were getting ready that evening - kids in their good clothes, everyone almost out the door - I got a text from my dad. His cousin, someone our family calls Aunt, had passed away suddenly. He was by her side.
I put my phone in my bag, and we went anyway. I'm not sure what else you do.
She was an incredible woman. Strong, independent, and she retired at 55 to spend years living richly on her own terms. She even spent time in Australia during her career in the oil industry - so somewhere in the back of my mind, floating on a harbour stage under a Sydney sky, I felt a small and strange connection to her. I hadn't reached out as much as I'd wanted to in the last year or two, and I'll carry that. But I'd like to think she would have loved knowing we were out here doing something like this.
The trek home was an adventure of its own. A long walk to the train station, two kids asleep on our shoulders by the time we settled into seats, and then a mid-journey surprise that the Cronulla train wasn't running, so we had to switch to a bus. The bus driver took one look at our sleepy kids, handed each of them a chocolate egg, and commented on how tired they looked. He was right - they soon fell right back to sleep. We got home and into bed at 12:30 am.
The next morning, the kids still had school. That evening was a Mother's Day dinner put on by the school - another late night incoming. And Saturday, we said goodbye to Adam as he headed back to Texas to be with his family.
But Thursday. Thursday was magic.
