But also sixty-plus years a Canadian. That is the way it is with us migrants.

Today is the fortieth anniversary of my arrival in Australia. Very few decisions are as momentous as choosing to shift countries, even from within one part of the Empire to another. But there are few decisions I have ever made that I feel as content with, yet I also feel all of the loss of the closeness of family and friends.

I was also part of the first cohort who was required to get a migrant visa, the new law having come into effect on 1 January 1975. And the one part of my interview with the chap from the embassy I have always remembered was that, my having pronounced Nullarbor wrong, he corrected me on where the accent went, and then said that there are some who think the Romans might have been here, since ‘null arbor” is Latin for no tree. A fantastic coincidence if true, although only if it actually is an Aboriginal name.