How Aussies Entertain Poms Down Under

Sami is an Aussie girl who is lucky enough to live close to one of my favourite parts of this country, Mooloolaba. Sometimes I wonder if you think I am living my life here as if I’m on holiday, after all, I’ve not yet been here two years, it’s still so new.

Well, Sami, who used to author of the blog Life, Laughs & Lemmings, is Australian born and bred. Her mission and the theme of her blog is to have “serious fun” and make the most out of life. Today we are lucky to have her writing a post for us. Her rather ironic topic is how an Aussie goes about entertaining us Poms!

Over to you Sami………

How Aussies Entertain Poms Down Under

Picture our home; a spacious brick home on a sun bathed, tree filled, rural, 1 acre block in the hinterland of the Sunshine Coast, located in the sunny State of Queensland, or as is commonly known, the Sunshine State. Apparently we are famous for our sunshine (it even says so on our car number plates).

Now picture rain.

This is what our British friends Martyn and Gemma were met with as they arrived to the so called Sunshine State.

My plans for a picnic at the beach in the sunshine, walks along the oceanfront in the sunshine and drinks at our local pub in the sunshine were looking certain to be thwarted. Evidently the bloke upstairs didn’t receive my order for bloody sunshine!

Undeterred, we were determined to show our Pommie friends a great time and not let the weather deter us. After all, to do anything else would be unAustralian.

Now what would a visit to Australia and especially the “Sunshine” State be if it didn’t include a BBQ? Just plain unAustralian really. By the time we packed everything up in readiness to head to the beach for an oceanfront BBQ, the drizzle had thankfully cleared to a grey overcast sky, which was fine by us, especially as it produced this stunning sunset…

The next day, saw Martyn and Gemma head an hour north to check out the coastal town of Noosa and hike the famous Noosa Headland trail. It’s mostly famous for the views, of the natural kind and au naturale kind, thanks to the stunning coastline you walk around and the nudist beach that forms part of the trail. Given the less than ideal weather, the nudist beach was bare (pardon the pun), except of course for a fully clothed and slightly soggy Martyn and Gemma.

When they arrived back, we headed to the Ettamogah Pub, our local…

No, it’s not your eyes or the beer you just had, the building is actually all askew. The Ettamogah Pub is based on a cartoon strip, hence it’s caricature appearance. Apparently “ettamogah” is Aboriginal for “place of good drink”. Lucky it’s a place of good drink because the food left a little to be desired.

Finally the bloke upstairs fulfilled my order and the sun made an appearance so we grabbed the opportunity with both hands and headed to the beach for a picnic…

Martyn and Gemma’s final night with us was a multicultural affair. They cooked us a traditional roast complete with Yorkshire puddings and we treated them to the delicacy that is Australian damper.

For the uninitiated, damper is traditional Australian bread generally cooked on an open fire in a camp oven. I however, have a somewhat more ingenious method to cooking it; in an open fire on a stick. A small ball of damper dough is carefully constructed around the end of each stick. It’s then put in the flames of the fire to form a crust and finally stuck in the coals to cook the inside. When it’s done, you pull it off the stick and fill the hole with butter and golden syrup. It truly is a taste sensation.

There were a couple of mishaps however.

First off, we didn’t exactly have the perfect damper cooking fire on accounts everything was wet. In fact, we resorted to using a stack of old travel brochures to keep it going. Not a good start.

Then Gemma constructed a beach ball sized damper on the end of her stick which would have taken 3 years to cook and far more travel brochures than we had at our disposal. She had mistakenly thought the big lump of dough I’d left was all for her. After our fits of laughter subsided, I suggested that the ball of dough was in fact supposed to be divided up amongst everyone else and she duly downsized her monstrosity.

Then our friend and fellow Aussie, Tiff, who’d joined us for the evening, burnt hers to such an extent that by the time she peeled the burnt crust off, she was left with a damper that would feel right at home in a packet of M&M’s such was it’s pitiful size.

The irony of the night was that not only was the roast far more successful than the damper on a stick, but the best cooked and tastiest damper was Gemma’s! A Pom! Now THAT’S unAustralian.

So who else would like to visit? I’m sure we can organise some rain, bad pub food and burnt damper!