Bling Bling

They were playing Christmas carols on the main street in Sydney today; the brass band in their short-sleeves belting out Hark the Herald Angels Sing in 28 degree heat. It's not right, my brain can't make sense of it. It just doesn't feel like Christmas is coming, which is great news for Darren because I've absolutely no expectation of any presents either.

They say it never feels like Christmas again if you emigrate to Australia. They say you might as well forget Christmas altogether because it's just not the same. Kate says her first Christmas in Sydney was hard, she didn't stop crying all day. I didn't understand what she meant until I heard the band playing the Christmas carols, then it hit me how far away we are and I fell to pieces. They always play Hark the Herald Angels at the midnight service at St Matthew's. I don't know how Christmas will be for us this year.

One thing I do know is there might be a bit more bling on my fingers this Christmas though because Darren's going to buy me an eternity ring, which has added significance when you consider how our year down under has often felt like an eternity in itself. Every day I want to go home, and every day I want to stay. As Jackie pointed out, I'm completely bi-polar.

Anyway, the real significance of the ring is that it will be made in Sydney, just like our wedding rings, and we've had a child-free day to go ring shopping today, shopping at the regular high street jewellers for ideas, followed by browsing at the boutique shops in The Strand Arcade. But the real joy has been discovering where the Sydneysiders buy their jewellery, or at least, those of them in the know.

If you're in the know in Sydney, you don't buy your jewellery in a shop because everyone knows the prices are inflated to cover the shop's rent. The Sydneysiders find a little man, a bespoke jeweller holed up in some unlikely-looking building in the city and they find him through word-of-mouth and communicate through phone numbers and directions scribbled on bits of paper.

Our little men are Ralph and Walter.

Walter works in room ten on the fifth floor of an office block on Pitt Street. He usually has security on the door but today he greeted us himself. Walter's German and when he answers the phone he's so abrupt you almost feel obliged to add "Hiel Hitler" to the end of your sentence, though thankfully we've thus far resisted the temptation. I like Walter and I think he's cheaper than Ralph, but I don't think he has Ralph's flair. Darren says he's design-driven. I just think he lacks imagination.

Ralph on the other hand, has a sprawling office filled with antique bric-a-brac and the obligatory grandfather clock. His desk is utter chaos and there are two beautiful pieces of aboriginal art sitting on easels in the corner of the room. Ralph knows a lot about diamonds, as does Walter, but Ralph talks about diamonds with passion. His favorite jewellery is the art-deco stuff, the sort of stuff I dream about owning. I think Ralph's got the job.

The only thing left to decide is the design. Do you spread the diamonds around the band in true eternity style or load all the bling up front? Apparently I can't have two of them, so a choice will have to be made.

We went home to sleep on it, but not before Darren went poking around a shop called Opal Cave , a shop staffed by Chinese ladies making polite conversation with the tourists. How are you? Can I help you? Do you want to browse? The stuff in Opal Cave is awful but it's a good job we went in. Darren genuinely had in his mind that I wanted an opal necklace in the shape of Australia - a more hideous slice of Australiana I cannot imagine.

"I'd die if you bought me one of those necklaces" I said. "I'd just die"

He looked relieved. "Well that's saved me some money then" he replied. "I was going to buy one for your birthday".