Alright, so should I chuck it in the boot or just put it in the trunk?

It was inevitable and actually just a matter of time. I was forced to listen to my first cricket game yesterday. Australia vs. India, apparently quite classy and able to get people excited to the utmost possible extent here, though I must admit that I wasn't sharing this excitement, after all I had read a bit about it, and found the provided information on the matter quite sufficient, not to mention terribly boring. („Down Under“ by Bill Bryson, an exhilarantly hilarious and highly entertaining must read if you're coming to Oz, thanks again to my fabulous room mate for this gift). So I felt no particular need to deepen my knowledge of this foreign game any further. Yet, the person I was with with at that time felt urged to introduce me to this sport that I had neither listened to nor watched before, and I eventually I gave in. What would it be like? First thing I was told is that a game usually takes up to five days (Or exactly five days? That does escape my memory at present, and I didn't feel like researching this any further). The game started off with a highly sophisticated conversation about the ground's condition (simple grass as I would call it, but to Aussies their cricket grass seems to be sacred and well worthy of a 30 minute heated discussion about the same) An Indian guy shared his viewpoint about it being a bit tacky underfoot, before a very posh English guy pitched in and added a few comments himself. Summing up - I had no idea what was going on. Just imagine yourself listening to a conversation, of which you well understand the meaning of the used vocabulary itself. The spoken words just don't make the slightest sense in that context. Cricket on radio. That's it. It is said to be a language of its own, and even Aussies sometimes don't get the full meaning of what is going on, at least that is what I'm told. Apparently they understand the rules though, which I do not. And seriously, I don't want to, since just as I had expected it let me slowly drift into trance-like boredom. The players even have a cup of tea in between! What a slow-paced and utterly peculiar sport. I'm saying this to avoid the word boring.

Yet, let me say that I have never been more in love with a country than Oz! The moment I got out of Sydney airport I knew this was the right place for me to be. But first things first.

I'll just start off by rambling on a bit about Australian English. Personally, I love it, and I'm trying hard to pick it up, although that presently leaves me with a ridiculous and – to my listeners – quite entertaining accent (which leads to following amusing comments I frequently get: „Valerie – there's bits of everything in your accent – American, British, and even Kiwi! But clearly no German...“ or „Your accent almost sounds Aussie...“ - „No Mum! It's Manchester!“ - … not that I've ever been to Manchester, but oh well...) Australians are extremely disappreciative of American accents, which is why I'm trying my hardest to avoid any resemblance to such, and find convenient ways around words such as „bunch“ and „trunk“ and replace them with „heaps“ and „boot“ instead. And I'm already starting to say „ay“ or „hey“ all the time. How awesome is that ay! Aussies also have a funny way of abbreviating things, which is why you've got mozzie bites instead of mosquito bites, it's no biggie instead of being a big thing, and as you might have noticed by now, they're not Australian, they're all Aussies, and they're all each others mates anyway. And instead of making a U-turn, they all chuck U-ies – from left to right! Lovely, isn't it!

So what is there to say about Aussies themselves? If I were asked to describe them in just one word I'd say sarcastic. Aussies have an amazing sense of humor, sarcasm, sometimes even cynism. It's a bit harsh sometimes, and if you're not used to it some might take offense. Calling each other ugly and crazy is a sign of affection here. What a country! I'm feeling home already.

I already got a nick name in Sydney – I'm „the German“. Well yes, fair enough, it simply acknowledges my origin. I'm alright with that mates. I was told that no one is called Valerie over here, it is supposed to be a very ancient name - or retro as some call it, what a good save. But hey Val, it's so cool to have a retro name like yours, we love your name! Even better save mates. Cheers for that.

I haven't really tasted much food yet. Except one thing I fell in love with the instant its taste oh so gently awoke my taste buds from their lifelong slumber. Vegemite! I've been living on vegemite cheese sandwiches since I first got here (on and here's another one for you, it's not a sandwich, it's a sanga), and maybe my body may have started to suffer from malnutrition by now, but vegemite is said to be one of the richest sources of Vitamin B. Sandwiches that make you a healthier and better person – only available in Oz! And speaking of food – I've never had better and more amazing coffee than here. Well this is great news for a person whose mood essentially depends on her daily caffeine intake. First time you get coffee here it is a bit hard to figure out what is what though. Should one get a short black, long black or a flat white? I'm currently running on multiple flat whites a day. If anyone should happen to go to Sydney in the near future – try Bade Mannor's Soy Chai Latte. There's nothing like it. This is not a suggestion, it's an order. Try it and it'll change your life.

And right now as I'm noting down my first impressions of this remote, yet oddly familiar place, I'm killing time on a JetStar flight to Brisbane to spend a couple of days with a friend in Queensland before I'll go on a road trip down to Melbourne.

I'll have to get a job soon I think... This country bleeds you dry.