fair dinkum

A typical Australia Day for me involves getting together with friends to drink and indulge in a good bout of cringe-worthy (read bogan-esque) behaviour.

This year, however, I was on a farm in country Victoria with a few blokes who'd been slaving away in the sun all day, listening to Triple J's hottest 100. There were a few drinks, a good feed and, of course, the tennis. It was nice being away from the crowds, festivities and fireworks.

While the parades in the city were all about a modern and multicultural Australia - an Australia I live and breathe every day - it was nice to experience something different, something considered quintessentially Australian.

My day started in the city, where I haphazardly managed a morning run under the brooding sky. (I wanted to enjoy Australia Day without guilt but my body wasn't in a cooperative mood.)

After stocking up on supplies I headed to the farm and was greeted by glorious sunshine and sunburnt pastures. It was a postcard worthy view.

The scenery had a surprising effect on me - I felt enchanted. It was beautiful and unforgiving and vast. I have lived in Australia my whole life, seen a fair bit of the countryside, but there was something so captivating about the vibrant, albeit lifeless, landscape.


I should admit that this is not the first time scenery has tugged at my emotions on Australia Day. Previously, I cried in the Himalayas while watching the sunrise at a lookout. It was beautiful but I had never felt so far away from everyone I loved and everything familiar to me.

Australia Day 2009

In all honesty I don't know why Australia Day has this effect on me. I am Australian but I would gladly live somewhere else. I think it is a fantastic country but acknowledge that it isn't perfect.

I guess that, like Christmas, it is traditionally a day where people gather with loved ones regardless of their beliefs or backgrounds. And what is there not to like about that.

- Dani