Never understood Australian's fixation with snow. Anyone that feels the need to mess with the cold wet white stuff obviously never had to stand in their wellies up to your ankles in it, in the dark waiting for a bus to school back in Blighty that you knew you wouldn't get on because everyone else had the same idea and was usually full. More than likely you had already slipped on your arse several times, your homework was in a slush puddle, your fingers had turned to ice in your gloves and the balaclava your nana knitted and your mum made you wear had turned your ears to tomatoes and fogged up your glasses.
Snow ? You can keep it!