Kristin Mack Alnaes: Crave the light-hearted being

Primarily to avoid any kind of misunderstanding: I miss my husband while I am here in Sydney. I feel guilty for leaving him behind in Norway just a couple of weeks after we got married. I also miss my dog and her soft white fur. It seems that I have forgotten that she regularly likes to give herself a spa treatment in mud — and in similar brown elements she can find in nature...

Despite all this, Sydney offers several reasons not to dig a deep hole of loneliness and misery. Not least, there are quite a few opportunities to laugh.

Last weekend I went to the World's Funniest Island. Veterans of the comedy scene and aspiring comedians of all kinds — and a mixed audience — took over the whole of Cockatoo Island, a remarkable heritage-listed island in the Sydney Harbor. The island has a long history (in modern Australian terms). Old prison barracks mixed with shipbuilding maritime history have been turned into an arena of leisure and culture. Whilst not operational, the old turbine halls and the machinery have character. They gave such an individual feel to the performances I saw — The Goodies, Jimeoin, Akmal, Arj Barker, The Nelson Twins, Heath Franklin's Chopper, Mickey D and The Axis of Awesome. It is ironic that we did not see any cockatoos on the island though. This land mass should have been renamed Cockapoo Island (or more correctly Seagull-poop Island). Nevertheless, it didn't ruin my laughter.

While the island offered chuckles around every corner, the everyday amusement is easily accessible on the mainland as well. There is a sign in most bars and pubs that has made a noteworthy impression on me. I've come to realize that it is actually meant sincerely. The government, the bars, or a collaboration of the two, advises people to consume no more than one unit of alcohol an hour. That way you would only be a little bit tipsy, and not go above the Act's limit when it comes to your skills of driving home afterwards. So the sign says. Coming from a country that has high taxes on alcohol and probably the belief that passive drinking is harmful just like passive smoking, it makes me giggle every time I read those enlightening guidelines.

Having my background from an interior magazine in a country where we curl up indoors during the cold season, the fashion for furnishing outdoors has caught my eye as well. When Norwegians go picnicking most people bring an environmentally unfriendly, disposable barbecue, a few hot dogs and some beer (not being aware that according to the guidelines on the sign mentioned above they could drive home afterwards). When Australians go picnicking they do not only bring a blanket and some food from the corner. They bring the whole gear, the armchair, the table, the tablecloth etc. They literally move out. Which might also explain why they all have beige wall-to-wall carpets indoors. Perhaps the carpets are their way to match the outdoors by bringing it inside in a less wild way?

To any of you that might be confused: I am fond of the picnics. I do like to see people's homes. And I do enjoy beverages. The fact that my abs and my cheeks regularly get exercised during encounters with the local people is nothing but a blessing. So even though I miss Norway (if I ignore the fact that it is October, cold and rainy up there), I must say that during my Australian stay the overall state of being has been laughter brought into everyday usage, and not merely an echoing giggle from a professional stage on a historic island. Thanks, World's Funniest City!

PS! I just learned that three Norwegians formed the first snow ski club in the world in 1861 — on the Kiandra Gold Fields. In Australia! Yepp, down under. Now, if that isn't something to smile at...