5 Things I Miss Most About Australia

1. My friends and family (of course). Look, I know you all think I'm a hopeless case when it comes to this emailing, blogging business, but I assure you my reasons are sound. First and foremost is this: I can't read your blogspots or email as often as I should because it makes me too sad. I've decided the best way to avoid that ill feeling you get, that sinking stomach pain that comes with being away from the ones you love, is by avoiding being reminded of you every day. I know it's the coward's way out, but please take it with the good grace and flattery with which it is given. Secondly, and here comes the broken record again ... (haha) I really am pretty stretched. This week I'm working 11 days straight, and, selfish as it most certainly is, sleep is a precious commodity. Don't think I don't love you or that I don't want to know what's happening, but if I think about it too often I'll go completely mad.

2. On a more frivolous note, Kristos (from Tasmania) and I were salivating over the thought of decent cheese today. It's a hot topic of conversation in any circle. Decent cheese, or the lack thereof is a point of obsession for most of us. It's hard to believe that in a country so enamoured of yoghurt, cheese doesn't make it into their top ten. Good cheese is like gold, only edible. Test this for yourself by coming here only to find yourself practically fainting at the thought of some crappy Coon. Can't even think about Watsonia vintage without getting a little misty-eyed.

3. Grass. Now, it's not like Japan is devoid of natural charm, but somehow the concept of sitting in long, lush grass doesn't appeal quite as much as sitting perched on a concrete bench next to a scraggley patch of almost-grass.

4. While I'm sure I'll get a stream of derisive comments regarding my attitude to the following once you all read this next one, I nevertheless invoke an age-old adage: You never miss you water till your dry. Quite literally. I miss proper beaches. I do. I know I have some irrational fears when it comes to actually swimming, but just that feeling of sand between you toes, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, and the thrill of a big wave sending you flying. I miss these things.

5. A big pub where everyone (or nearly everyone) knows you name. Round here the bars are teeny and you'd be lucky if someone can pronounce your name after vigorous repetition, let alone remember it for the next time. Even Mez seems to stump most. I have received letters and bills with "Miss" for a first name, "Mess" is another. That one's not so far off the mark, but it's the principle dammit. Just once I'd like to meet someone for the first time and not have them cock their head and stare at me blankly, waiting for me to write my name on a piece of paper so's they can mispronaounce it all over again the next time (after the same rountine).