Christmas: the holiday I have come to dread in Australia. It is not the country's fault that Christmas falls at the beginning of a sweltering summer. That instead of thick wool coats and scarves, there are bikinis and thongs (flips flops, sandels, jandels, whatever you want to call them). I personally am a fan of layering clothing because I think it's more flattering on my body--and I don't need to spend the entire day clenching my abs to keep my stomach from jiggling when I walk. It seems very wrong to put up a Christmas tree while listening to "White Christmas" in 38C (100F) heat. Not only does my body not want to peel itself off the ground to hang ornaments, but it's hard not to find the music annoying when I would love nothing more than to roll around naked in snow.
Instead of decorating, I stick my head in the freezer and pretend it's snow. I feel momentarily better, but I can't stand there like that all day--I've tried. Baking any holiday treats is out, because having an oven going for more than 5 seconds in that heat is just plain stupid--as if I wasn't sweating before, I'd have to climb into the freezer after having the oven on long enough to bake anything. I tried one year and found that baking is only fun when the oven heats the room to a desirable temperature, not when it melts your eyeballs every time you open it to check if the cookies/biscuits/whatever are done.
Even without the homesickness, it's hard to force what I want Christmas to be in Australia. The obvious reason is that it's summer. A time for picnics and swimming, not ice skating and hot feasts of comfort food. After four years, I am tired of fighting it. Tired of wearing wool holiday sweaters until I get heat stroke, drinking peppermint hot chocolate and eating the cookied I laboured for hours to bake in nothing buy my underwear. I am tired of decorating my plastic tree with sweat dripping down my back, when I would rather just be sitting on the couch watching tv and drinking a cold beer. Christmas shopping is a nightmare--no matter what country you are in. Visiting the family is a 12 1/2 hour drive through a hot desert. The only comfort there is the cars we rent are air conditioned--my apartment is not.
So instead of forcing my traditions on a summertime Christmas, I decided that I would work with it. Beach resort holidays with a frozen cocktail in my hand (I have yet to achieve that, but give me time), or camping trips through some of the southern tracks in Australia (and maybe one day New Zealand). Yes, I have learned to take the week I get off from work and do something with it. An adventure. Away from the oppressive heat and lack of fresh air in my apartment. Away from trees and suddenly ironic Christmas carols. Why would I spent the week given to me of lovely summer weather indoors eating copious amounts of food when I could be outside challenging myself on a hike or lounging around on a beach?
So this year, I've picked my challenge. I'm hiking the Great Ocean Walk, an 104km track along the wild Southern Ocean coastline of Victoria, near the historic Great Ocean Road. Sweeping views of limestone cliffs, scrublandand endless sandy beaches. Not a bad trade.
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