Once when living in Europe I said “Arvo” to a group of English, Irish, Scottish, American and Germans, in a professional office context, and they all looked at me blankly.

“Arvo”, y’know, “afternoon”. Its obvious, I thought to myself.

The reply astounded me. I expected them to go “oh, afternoon, of course.” Instead, one said “Um, Andrew, *I* have been to Australia and *I* never heard that term. It must be from YOUR part of Australia, and no-where else. Like your accent. YOU don’t really sound Australian.”

In a fit of paranoia that I’ve been away from the homeland for too long I canvassed all the other overseas Aussies with “is it me or is ‘Arvo’ a normal term?”. Thankfully, “eh? whaddya talkin about mate. Arvo is afternoon. Everyone knows that.”

And my accent? “Bloody hell you just have a normal city accent. So you don’t sound like the Croc hunter. Whaddya care about that mate?”

Thank God for Aussie bluntness, especially at times of need when an Irishman who has been to Alice Springs on a tour with a bus-load of Europeans think they know more about your country (and your accent) than you do.