Finding Australia

Being a Brit growing up on that little island, Steve Irwin, Olivia Newton-John and Crocodile Dundee were my only insight into Australia. So you can imagine my surprise when I learned that my entire family would be immigrating to this strange, far-off land. Not sure if I was ready to handle crocodiles, summer lovin’ and crocodiles, I was somewhat hesitant. But the move went ahead, and within two months our entire household (minus ourselves and a suitcase of clothes) was packed into a shipping container and following in the footsteps of those 19th century convicts. Fortunately we didn’t have to follow in their footsteps, and we had the luxury of modern economy-class aircraft.
My family moved ahead of me, and I remained behind for a month to conclude my studies. But that month was soon up, and I went to the airport, not sure I was ready for this to be the last time I stood on that little island. Being fifteen at the time meant I was an ‘unaccompanied minor’, and as lovely as it was to hang out with the four year olds in the VIP section of Singapore Airport, I think the “Hi, My name is Joe!” name badge was a bit too much to handle. After a lengthy debate with Airport authorities on whether I was capable of walking to the coffee shop alone (it was determined that I was not), I left Singapore and flew, following the sun, to Australia.
Having travelled for the better part of a day I landed at Brisbane International, where the clocks told me it was mere hours since I had left Edinburgh. I quickly passed customs through the airline staff passport control (the one perk of being one of the U.M. kids) and I officially stepped onto Australian soil.
Thanks to the late Mr Irwin (whose face was still featured awkwardly on no less than five billboards outside the airport), I spent my first month scanning the official Australian soil in front of me checking for snakes and spiders. I somehow seemed to have developed a phobia of snakes – it’s a complete mystery how I developed it. I found myself constantly questioning whether I was “In the bush” yet. Feeling like I was on some strange, overheated holiday, I tried to settle in.
The only wild snake I’ve seen was the carpet python that lived in the roof of my house (an experience I wouldn’t like to repeat), and I have never seen a wild crocodile. But I still occasionally scan the soil for signs of deadly wildlife, just like the first time I walked on this not so little island.