Ashley and her husband, Steve, were living in Winnipeg, Canada, a place that has a 24-hour TV channel devoted just to the weather. It’s cold in winter in Winnipeg. Very cold. And as Ashley says, ‘Many days it was indistinguishable from the North Pole.’ The wind squeezed tears out of her eyes, and if she blinked her eyelashes frosted together. She would dream of living somewhere where the sun shone most of the year, with sandy beaches, somewhere it never snowed at all.

When she was studying for her degree in Canada, her professor asked what her career plans were after finishing her degree. Her reply was, ‘Moving abroad!’ Only problem was her partner, Steve, was a homebody. But after eight years, he relented, quitting his stable well-paid job for a year in Australia together. Her friends nervously asked her how she was going to handle the spiders as though their daily life would require a ‘spider-preparedness plan’.

Arriving in Sydney, Ashley excitedly looked from person to person, waiting for her first g’day. They settled into an apartment in Newtown, an inner western suburb of Sydney. In that suburb, which was kilometres from the beach, they were puzzled to see a guy walking in bare feet. Why would anyone not be wearing shoes? The baking Australian sun was a shock compared to Canada, making her feel like ‘a chicken on a spit’. I had a good giggle at some of the differences she found to home as she asked why the ‘s’ had been taken from sports and added to the math. Her friend’s words came screaming back to her one day when she saw, lurking near the ceiling, a fur-covered huntsman the size of a fist. Australians well know the dance huntsman’s can do with lightning speed. Thoughts of it escaping terrified Ashley. She could only think if that happened, she might need to burn the apartment down. For a non-seasoned huntsman catcher, it’s only a problem that a vacuum cleaner can remedy.

Ashley’s description of iced vovos (a name that disturbed her enough) that were covered in desiccated coconut, which she thought looked like an elderly person’s pubic hair were very funny. Her story about streakers at sport games and watching a game of AFL made me laugh out loud. Her outsider’s point of view on Australia’s treatment of refugees was sobering and left a feeling of shame. Her partner struggled to find work, she struggled to fit in, and was befuddled and hurt by the Australian way of taking the micky out of them both. Her fear of Steve wanting to return home as the year ended to the freezing winters of Winnipeg shifts to hope of remaining to live in Australia permanently.

It’s fascinating to see your world through another’s eyes. How they see your home and the way you live. How the everyday language you use is totally misunderstood by them. I really enjoyed this memoir and I would think this would also be a good book for anyone thinking of coming to live in Australia, especially to learn that if someone’ takes the micky, they actually like you! Read it and you’ll be charmed.

Reviewed by Jenny Williams