Christmas in summer

For my first Christmas in Australia I sent cards depicting satirical Aussie Christmases. Santa at the beach in a swim suit, surrounded by Kangaroos and Kookaburras. Or Santa playing cricket with his elves, again on the beach. These cards are a rather fair assessment of Christmas down under. In the morning, many people head down to the beach before gathering for a family lunch of turkey, ham and prawns.

The thermometer on Christmas day reached 40 degrees Celsius or 105 Fahrenheit. When the temperature nears the 37 degree mark we typically find ourselves camping out in our lounge room with the air-conditioning. Shane woke me up at midnight on Christmas Eve to announce that he’d had enough and was moving into the lounge room. Bronson and I decided to join him on the foam mattress. Thus far, no sign of Santa was visible. We woke up around 6am with the sun already high in the sky and exchanged gifts.

As I stared at the fireplace in our old brick home I wondered how Santa brought gifts to the majority of children across Australia with no fireplace. As a child Shane had a small iron stove for a fireplace at one house. But, if you don’t have a fireplace? Well, he just walks through the front door of course.

Otherwise, Christmas is pretty much the same. People (although not quite as many) hang lights on their homes, kids sit on Santa’s lap at the mall, and everyone scrambles to finish their gift buying at 5pm on Christmas Eve. Many Australians talk of someday having a white Christmas overseas and photos of snowmen and children sledding grace many holiday items.

There is however, one added bonus to Christmas in OZ. The following day is Boxing Day which is a popular day to watch cricket and unwind from the festivities of the previous day. Once again we headed to the beach in the morning and then sat in our air-conditioned lounge and watched cricket until joining Shane’s family for a Boxing Day dinner.

With Christmas and Boxing Day falling on the weekend, Monday and Tuesday were public holidays. We drove down to Bunbury, 1.5 hours south of Perth, and spent the next two days skiing with friends at a sheltered beach ideal for water skiing.

On Monday, I was the last person to ski for the day. Our boat had been out of commission for several months so it was the first time I had skied since last summer. When our friend Matt dropped me off on the beach they quickly scurried me and the two dogs (the skier welcoming committee) out of the water. Matt was rather certain he spotted a four meter shark about five meters from where I skied. We were only 200 meters from our home base so he continued on, hoping I wouldn’t fall. Had I fallen, most likely nothing would have happened. We were one of a few skiers out that day and a shark was never officially spotted. But, it was enough for us to call it a day and take our ski boat to a local lake the following day.

Wishing you a wonderful festive season free of sharks and other unwelcomed surprises and all the best for 2011!