By Jonathan Howcroft
Above: London from above, at night.
As an Englishman with a reasonably distinctive accent I am often engaged in the following oxygen-wasting exchange:
“So, you’re from the UK?”
“Yes.”
“I used to live in the UK.”
“Oh yes, whereabouts?”
(I know the answer to the question but feign interest. We English are known for our politeness.)
“London.”
“What part of London?”
(I ask, preparing myself for the expected reply to include one of the famed Australianised suburbs of Earls Court, Shepherd’s Bush or Acton.)
“Shepherd’s Bush.”
(Bingo. My next line is usually a deliberate set up.)
“Did you enjoy it?”
“No, not really. I had fun earning and travelling on pounds, but it’s too cold and there are no beaches.”
“How long were you there for?”
(This is the pay-off from the set up.)
“Oh, a few years.”
(A few years! You didn’t enjoy it, probably pissed and moaned in your two-bedroom flat with 19 other Aussies, Kiwis and Saffas, but managed to stay for a few years! The span tends to be around the 2-3 year bracket in my experience, but can reach as high as 7. Unfailingly none of these would choose to live in the UK.)
(The final exchange is usually the point during which I decide how the person I am speaking to will die. Their answer could prove the most important an Australian has given to someone other than Eddie McGuire.)
“Did you get to see much of the UK while you were there?”
(During your interminable incarceration.)
“Not really. I went to Edinburgh for the festival and a few of us drove to Brighton for the day. We saw lots of Europe though…”
(Death by slow removal of all nails and hair follicles to be administered by Tracy Grimshaw.)
Why do Australians travel thousands of miles at great expense to hole themselves up in an overpriced shit-box and actively ignore the incredible opportunities on their doorstep? Don’t get me wrong, if I thought the UK was that great I would have never left, but it irritates the hell out of me to keep meeting people that move to London, at great cost, only to restrict themselves to locations on their immediate tube-route. And then moan about it!
I am secretly pleased at how unforgiving, unwieldy and hostile London is. I experience perverse delight from the tales of rip-off landlords, aggressive visa-wallahs and narcoleptic passengers awoken by the impromptu end-of-the-line announcement, light-years from their intended destination. London might represent all that is cool about Britannia but the diversity of history, culture and landscapes in such a short area, literally surrounding London, provides an opportunity unrivalled anywhere in the world. So why do I never meet anyone who has seen it?
Above: Lord Howe Island, just off Australia’s east coast, is widely regarded as the most beautiful island in the Pacific.
Accepting for a moment the challenges posed by the prohibitive cost of travel within the UK, and the ease of spending those hard-earned pounds exploring exotic Europe, I would hazard a guess that the same individuals that live for years in the UK but never reach the not-very-well-hidden gems of Bristol or The Yorkshire Dales are the same that fail to experience the delights of their slightly drier backyard in Australia. How many Australians can honestly claim to have explored their home state, let alone the rest of their country? How many Australians have been to New Zealand – in my opinion the most naturally beautiful country in the world? With rival low-cost providers competing for customer attention it can rarely have been so easy or affordable to make the trip across the Tasman or take a short flight interstate to experience an alternative time-zone within the same nation.
And sod Bali and all its faux-hippy pretension. Forget Fiji and the tourist dollars propping up an unrecognised regime. If you’re going to Thailand for the beaches – HELLO – have you looked at a map of Australia recently? There is a massive, exotic, unexplored world on our doorstep filled with the most wonderful natural delights and man-made activities. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re in London, confined to a sentence of blinkered drudgery. Get out and explore what’s in your backyard. And when you’ve done that, go a little bit further. You might surprise yourself and enjoy it.
Above: Katherine Gorge in the Northern Territory.
Image of London thanks to The Boston Globe’s Big Picture Blog.