A Topsy-Turvy World

Living in the Southern Hemisphere can be very confusing at times. It’s October but it’s getting hotter – adverts on the telly and in magazines are all for outdoor furniture, sandals and floaty cotton dresses, air-conditioning units, barbecues, and bikinis. As the months wear on and Christmas approaches, so does the summer. As I said, very confusing. October in England means long walks in forests turned gold, orange and red, crunching the leaves under our welly-shod feet. It’s the beginning of fires being lit in living rooms and pubs, of the smell of woodsmoke in the crisp air. Shorts, strappy dresses and flip-flops are put away until the following May and out come tights, woolly jumpers and boots. October in North-Western Australia means pool parties, barbecues lasting well into the warm nights, lying in the sea just to keep cool and sports only beginning as the sun starts to wane in the sky.


It also means flies. OK, I know I have mentioned them in a recent blog but get used to it as they will undoubtedly feature in many more to come as the summer really gets going. It is hard not to write about them as it is hard to avoid them and they are a constant presence if you want to ever leave the house. I went for a walk yesterday and spent half the time batting away the buzzing little creatures. It wasn’t that there were a lot of them, just that the flies in Australia are the most persistent I have ever come across in my life. One fly is all it takes to be a nuisance. They will fly into your ears, up your nostrils, under your sunglasses into your eyes, and land on your lips. No matter how many times you swat them away, they will not be beaten. Sometimes, the more you bat them away, the more determined they become – kind of like a little brother who knows he is winding you up and takes that as a challenge to see how far he can push you before you completely lose it. There is no point in losing it though, as it does you no good and usually makes you look completely barmy to passers-by. Summer flies are a fact of life here and you just have to get used to them. Either that or be known as ‘the crazy lady who mumbles and shouts to herself whilst waving her arms around’. Maybe I’ll buy one of those cork hats, or even better, one of those ones with the net that completely covers your face. On second thoughts, I think I’d rather be known as the crazy mumbling arm-waving lady.