I’m quite fond of Australia. Both my sister and wife have previously lived over there and my eldest nephew was born in Adelaide.
Not only that, I have destroyed Savage Garden’s Affirmation at karaoke, seen Kylie live and watched the stage show Priscilla, Queen of the Desert on two continents.
A long time ago, I used my BBC staff pass to crash the aftershow party of 80s Aussie rocker Jimmy Barnes, pretending I worked for some kind of trendy breakfast show, while actually being a rather staid newsreader.
My partner in crime for that was my Aussie flatmate, for whom I travelled to South Australia to be bridesmaid at her wedding.
Because there were so many people jetting in, instead of having a traditional honeymoon, they opted for a road trip for all her UK pals.
