For the last month I've been watching this hideously trashy drama about young Australians in London. Part of the enjoyment was getting to feel slightly smug: I don't live in west London, I've never been in a Walkabout pub and I've only picked up that free Australian newspaper once.
On Monday last week the show finished. On Monday this week I was off to collect to my own troupe of young Australian immigrants at Heathrow. Suddenly I'm living the dream. The living room floor may be a sea of backpacks, cushions and 'doonas' but it's good to see old friends.
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