The One in Which I Miss Some Things

In summer, we know that 26 degrees Celsius is a scorcher, but the rest of the season probably won't tip 20.

We drive on the left hand side of the road, with speed limits.

Traffic jams are minimal and temporary.

Beaches. Real ones.

Lolly mixtures.

Everything is the price it says it is - no more converting currency to see how much this is actually going to set you back.

No tipping.

People don't cut in line - people who cut in line annoy the hell out of me.

You can get a quarter pounder again.

Outrageous Fortune is the best show on tv (still not watching it, don't tell me anything).

You can understand the television and the shows aren't being dubbed by the same four guys every time.

Cricket - people know what you're talking about.

You get jokes - and find them funny.

Cafes make proper hot chocolates which don't burn your tongue and they come with marshmallows.

You can walk through the city centre without people trying to sell you crap or steal from you.

John Key is a spazz, but at least you're home in time to get rid of him.

John Campbell's thinly veiled dislike of John Key.

Everyone knows where you are geographically. Not in the British Isles, not in the Caribbean and not in tropical Polynesia.

Public transport is terrible, expensive and unforgivable but your mum will drive you places for free.

Your house is warm and rent free - and if it isn't, then just remember that Wellington is way cooler than Auckland.

In-jokes.

Slang.

Less risk of imminent death by bicycles.

Less people = more room.

Colourful houses.

Normal keyboards, where the 'Z' and the 'Y' haven't swapped places and there aren't a whole lot of extra things on the side.

Sushi.

Indian food.

Proper sunsets - none of this instantaneous darkness rubbish.

Friendly strangers.