Confessions of an ex-pat.
Jules our resident Aussie spills the beans…
Happy Australia Day
It was Australia Day on Tuesday 25th April. Something that most people in the UK, quite rightly, were probably not aware of – unless they happened into a Walkabout Pub in pure desperation, being caught short on the High Street.
It was something I was unaware of as well, even though I am Australian. There were no cardboard Kangaroo’s holding Aussie flags in every shop window, or a long weekend culminating in a boozy BBQ to help remind me, like there is in Australia. None of my family or friends deemed it important enough (or me interested enough) to send me wishes from across the waters.
The first year I arrived in the UK I decided to celebrate Australia Day here with a bunch of home sick Aussies – and I think a couple of Kiwis tagged along as well. In my misguided youth I thought it would be a nice idea – if not a bit unusual – to have a barbie (BBQ, not the doll) to celebrate. I was living in Brixton Hill at the time and most of the Aussies I knew lived in West London (surprise, surprise); so it was a bit of a trek into the unknown for them. When they arrived they were probably even more surprised to be dragged outside to stand by the rather pathetic looking barbie. The fact that it was snowing did not help the proceedings, nor did the fact I am vegetarian. (What is wrong with tofu burgers??) Needless to say it was a short affair, with people decamping to the nearest pub quick smart – and I was with that group!
I haven’t bothered celebrating Australia Day since.
