Sydneysider

I stalled the car this morning outside Ella's nursery because I was trying to reverse park, something that's never really been my strength, though admittedly it's a bit easier with the big chick mirror hanging off the car to guide the back bumper.

Anyway, the Sydney drivers are so aggressive that before I'd even had chance to switch the car back on, three of the bastards had beeped their horns at me, and one of these was coming in the opposite direction. Courtesy is something of an urban myth on the underside of the planet, a place so remote it's every man and his dog for themselves.

And being a Sydneysider, I gave them all the bird, though as I'm only a pretend Sydneysider, bellowing "you stupid twat" down the main road after them is still beyond the limits of my capabilities, as is calling anyone a wog, spick, chink, lebbo or abbo.

And then I drove the rest of the way to work, and no, I didn't let anyone into my lane (why should I?)and nor did I stop at traffic lights turning red, because there was important work to be done in revving my engine menacingly at zebra crossings.

Not that this has any bearing on the pedestrians, most of whom are wearing little white Ipod headphones and don't bother to look before setting foot onto the road. The rules about pedestrian crossings are different in Australia, so whereas we British wait patiently on the pavement and the driver stops his car, the Aussies claim the right to the crossing by stepping out onto it, and that's when the driver has to brake.

And then they saunter across the road at exactly the same pace you saunter towards the staff car park when sharing a particularly juicy piece of gossip with a colleague, you know, like you don't really want to reach your car, and to make matters worse, they never wave to thank you or even acknowledge you're there, which pisses me off even further and means I never wait for them to get right the way across before pulling away, occasionally shouting "you're welcome" in their direction, which they ignore.

Still, when in Rome and all that. I take great pleasure in sauntering across Randwick High Street whenever the opportunity presents itself, and I've even been known to double back and do it all over again, just to get my money's worth. I'm a Sydneysider alright; I know all the rules.