Six White Boomers

Well if you insist it's Christmas then I suppose I'll have to believe you, after all, the calendar says December 7th and my birthday cards have been arriving for weeks.

But here in Sydney I've absolutely no interest in Christmas trees and baubles and this is probably the first year in ages I haven't moaned about the inconvenient shape of our front door (inconvenient because it's in two halves with an arch at the top - fine for opening and closing but useless for hanging a nice tasteful wreath of holly onto. Remind me to buy a house with a normal front door next time).

Yesterday we were at Darling Harbour (wagging real life by drinking wine in the afternoon) and we came across the brightest Christmas tree in the southern hemisphere, an accolade they've acheived through (a) decorating it with compact discs and glitterballs, (b) lacing it with a flourescent tubing in place of light bulbs and (c) well, not comparing it scientifically to any other tree in the southern hemisphere but making the claim all the same. It's very attractive and very sparkly but the white kangaroos running all around it make me think albino marsupial rather than snow, though I think snow was the look they were trying to acheive.

(And then again perhaps it was intended as a nod to the Rolf Harris classic, Six White Boomers, in which case I'll let them off).

We've been thiking about getting a tree for the flat and I suppose we'll have to cave in, but it all seems a bit wrong, not just because we'll have to go out and buy lights and tinsel to detract from the lack of baubles but because, if you think about it, how's it going to look to Ella when she'll never see it in the dark? It's light when we get up and it's light for an hour after she goes to bed and what's more, we don't even have any curtains, so we can't pretend it's dark either. The poor child is destined to wait another year before she'll see what Christmas is supposed to look like.

And it's not just the heat that detracts from the festive spirit; we've noticed all sorts of other subtle differences in the way we celebrate Christmas on either side of the globe.

So take Britian for example. In Britain it's winter and the weather's crap, so people are feeling a bit down in the dumps and Christmas gives us something to look forward to in the middle of all this; it breaks up the winter months. And nobody wants Christmas to end because it's so flat in the new year, a few more months of cold weather stretching out before the spring arrives without so much as a bit of tinsel to make us feel better.

In Britain, we revel in Christmas, the advertising starts in September and the sprouts are on by November, you can't get away from it because they're playing Slade in all the shops and the adverts on telly are laced with snowflake shapes and reminders of all the things we need to buy. Christmas, it seems, is the religion.

In Australia it's completely different, in fact, if you're one of those people who doesn't like Christmas then it's time to get your visa application rolling because this place is just perfect for you.

You see, it doesn't matter where you live in the world, if you celebrate Christmas, then the images of christmas you've grown up with include reindeers and snowflakes and a guy in a big warm coat. In Australia they make different sorts of Christmas cards and while Santa Surfing on Sydney Harbour pleases the crowds back in Britain, the Aussies stick to the traditional images, which must seem like some funny game they don't know the rules for.

So here they're not playing Slade in the shops. Not Slade, not Mud, not even a sneaky bit of Cliff Richard. Nothing. I suppose when you think about it, the Christmas songs don't apply to Australia because I can't think of anything more laughable than singing about Frosty the Snowman in the middle of summer and since there's nothing much Christmassy about Australia, nobody else has thought to write any different songs about it.

And though we hardly ever switch the telly on, when we do we're not bombarded with adverts. And then there's the lights. You see, like Ella, all the kids go to bed before it gets dark, so there's no point having illuminous blue icicles dripping from your porch or a giant electric reindeer on the front lawn. Aside from a couple of small inflatable Santas hanging from rooves, I haven't seen a single festive light display in any garden or window in the city. It's business as usual, the hot and humid business of getting yourself to the beach before you melt.

It was the British who brought the tradition of Christmas to Australia, but in the absence of a British winter, it all feels a bit out of place, so now they can't be arsed to celebrate it. I see now why they say you might as well forget Christmas if you emigrate.

nb. Boomers, n, Kangaroos, slang (Australian).