It’s a big claim, but the next few words you read are going to do over 100,000 people a favour. Why? Because I’m about to answer the number one question every single Australian who has ever lived in this country is asked on average once a week. The question by the way is ‘Why the hell are you living in this country’?

It happened to me again on the weekend. Four times. All of them wanted to know what on earth possesses someone to pack up all of their worldly possessions (except the 10 boxes left at your mums place – for 13 years... sorry mum), to then strap yourself into a plane for 24 hours where any movement beyond raising your left finger is almost impossible, with the sole purpose of moving to a country renowned for rubbish weather.

Having lived ‘abroad’ for more than 13 years now, I’ve given this quite a bit of thought. The first thing I blame is ‘Christmas’. Sorry Santa, but imagine growing up in a country where from an early age one of your Christmas traditions is to spray fake snow on to your windows just so you can enjoy a white Christmas ...in 40C heat. The chance to see real snow at Christmas is stuff story books are made of!

Next on the list is ‘television’. A lot of people are surprised to know most Aussies grew up watching the exact same TV shows they did. Are you being served? Fawlty Towers, Dads’ Army, The Two Ronnies, George and Mildred, Some Mothers Do ’Ave Em, The Good Life and Porridge to name a few. How could you not want to visit a country where being in jail looked fun?

Then of course there’s Enid Blyton. Personally I blame her for a good proportion of the Aussie accents you’ll find outside of London. Her and her ‘lashings’ of ginger beer which were washed down with freshly baked sponge cakes that were always on hand to in case a stranger dropped by. And what about those mysterious things called macaroons? We didn’t have google when I was a kid, being able to find out what the heck macaroons are was worth a plane fare in itself.

Ms Blyton is also responsible for the huge amount of Aussie backpackers over here, too. I mean seriously, how can anyone resist the pull of a country where, if you can’t find a bed for the night, all you need to do was gather up several armfuls of bracken to make the perfect place to sleep?

I jest, but underneath it all there is some truth.

To an Aussie sitting 10,000 miles away, England really does seem like some kind of mystical far away kingdom. Admittedly though, nowadays the reason most of us are still here is because we just can’t afford the plane fare home.