The Peak

We immigrate from a land down under

By Dylan Thomas

Canada is a 16-hour flight from Sydney, Australia.

It’s about a day of transit, something I experienced only a short month ago, when I landed in the land of red and white. Leaving your home country at 8:00 a.m. and arriving at the same time in a completely different continent really does shake up the old body clock. Even so, it’s something we Aussies do on a regular basis.

Fun fact: 219,100 of us convicts came to your shores in 2008. That’s about 18,000 per month. You’d think you’d have the Mounties bracing for an invasion, after looking at those numbers. But no, the visits are strictly for relaxation purposes, with a bit of study or work thrown in to keep those administrative types happy.

So why Canada, you ask? Why do we Aussies continue to raid your country with our nasally accents and constant “gee-days?” (It’s “g’ day,” thank you, lady from the bookstore.) Well, there are a number of reasons.

Culturally we are pretty similar. We both enjoy sports and having a laugh at our own expense. We like to celebrate with a beer, relax with a beer, be bored with a beer. We have approximately the same populations, we are both commonwealths of the British Empire, we both have indigenous communities that we have historically neglected to give the respect that they deserve (although you are a lot more advanced on that front than we are) and we both secretly use the U.S. for their worldly goodness and then laugh about their idiosyncrasies behind their backs. The culture shock just hasn’t come because, to be honest, this place feels a lot like home.

But one major reason, and the reason that Aussies will keep flocking back to your glorious nation, is a given: you have the white stuff in abundance. Not cocaine ladies and gentlemen, but snow, glorious snow. Another fun fact: Australia’s largest ski resort, Thredbowhich, sees an average of two metres of snow a season.

That’s not a typo.

Two metres of snow total, and that’s in a good year. Our ski industry just can’t compare to the mega-resorts that Canada, and in particular B.C., have to offer. So with my season’s pass in hand, I’ve made the effort to get to the vast slopes of Whistler as often as I can. If Chinatown is east of downtown, and Little Italy is around Commercial Drive, then Oz-City is definitely on the slopes of Whistler and Big White.

Last time I was there, there was talk of Aussie Rules Football, Shrimps on Barbies, Dingoes and Babies. People named Dazza, Shazza, Keith, and Robbo were surrounding me everywhere I turned. I had to a double take that I wasn’t experiencing a sudden Australian summertime cold snap.

After witnessing all this, I found the closest Canadian I could, gave them a hug, and said “Sorry.” Sorry for clogging up your ski runs, your après bars and your condos. I needn’t have.

The response that I received, and have continually received from all you Eskimos, shocked me. You guys seem happy to have us. Or at least to tolerate us. Which brings me to reason number two on the list of why Australians frequent the Canadian landscape: Y’all are so very nice.

Tears and awkward hugs aside, it’s true.

Canadians are such accommodating and friendly people. I’ve been taken curling (which is another confusing article in itself), driven to house parties, taken to bars and clubs. People are so willing to get to know you that you can’t help but say “yes” to everything.

It is because of this, and the many similarities between Canada and Australia, that this place feels like home. And it’s because of that feeling that so many Australians choose Canada from their airline drop-down lists. Sometimes we don’t even leave. There’s a ripple effect; people go home, preach the good word of Canadian life, which attracts more tourists, and the cycle begins anew.

There’s really only one thing for us Australians to say: come on down. Come see the beaches. Come see the outback. Come see our ski resorts, if you want a good laugh. How aboot it, eh?