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Photo: Sérgio Bernardino WHEN I WAS GROWING UP, I thought all Australian guys had sun-kissed skin, blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and lived their lives on their surfboards. It seemed like blasphemy, but such is the case when you grow up with some of the world’s most beautiful beaches right at your doorstep every day. I remember pleading for a gradual re-introduction to red meat before I moved to Australia, and I soon learned that I’d have no choice but to love it. There’s no whining or whinging when you’re camping out in the bush or when you don’t want to watch The Footy Show after just watching hours of the actual footy game. But when you’re dating an Australian, you’ll learn to nod when he tells you some really (I mean like really) obscure score, and you’ll learn to live with this never-ending game. Life stops for such events, and you’d better hope Australia (and in the case of State of Origin, your preferred team) wins, otherwise your boyfriend will be one unhappy sports fan.