When we first considered migrating from the balmy shores of North Europe, we did a sensible, objective, logical analysis of what we wanted. This came down to:
- Warm
- Politically stable
A remarkably small number of countries tick these two seemingly-simple criteria. Botswana is one. Parts of Australia are another. I think Antigua is the third. Botswana was out due to a terrible allergy to rhinoceroses. Antigua was out because of the whole feral dog thing. That left Australia. Eleven thousand dollars later, we had our visas, and headed for Sydney. We’d lived in Melbourne, and loved it – except for two things. The weather. In the winter, it gets dark at 3.30 in the afternoon. And the weather. Did I already mention that? Melbourne seems to be the planet’s testing ground for whole new concepts in weather, and it feels overbooked:
- 0930: Bitterly cold, calm
- 0945: Howling gale, pissing down
- 1000: Bright sun and snow
- 1015: 45 degrees, fog
- 1030: FIRESTORM!
- 1030: Thunderstorm, cool change, tornadoes
- (…)
So: Three years in Sydney in a flat with no aircon, heating or double glazing. Yeah. Had a good harbour view, so it’s not all turnips in the stew.
If you look at painfully detailed climatic maps of Australia, and then look at the places where jobs other than “Bush tucker finder, third grade” are available, you end up in Perth or Brisbane. Since I work for a company with a head office in Brisbane, and no presence in Perth, I’m afraid that Western Australia didn’t get a fair look. So, here we are.