THERE are some things travellers should know before arriving in the land of Oz. No, we're not kidding . . . that's what many locals actually call their Australian homeland. In case you're wondering, its actual name is adapted from terra australis, the "great south land" once thought to be connected to Antarctica and Asia.

Talking to residents of whatever country you visit always reveals interesting insights. But in this case, you may need a translator to figure out exactly what you're being told.

A resident of far southern Illinois (where you're geographically as far south as Richmond, Virginia and locals have thick southern accents) once told us, "You folks talk funny", suspicious of our northern accents.

Well, there are some real language surprises waiting for those visiting the world's sixth largest continent. Many are regional, but seldom dull. They probably reflect a transplanted version of the Irish way with words.

In looking back over detailed notebooks I compile on all my trips, I had so much material to remember on my three trips out there that there were two notebooks on some of them. They recall the kind of unusual, unique encounters seldom found in guidebooks.

Some people actually do describe things as fair dinkum . . . everything from a sleek car or tasty meal to an attractive beachcomber. And G'Day remains an appropriate greeting, just as one still says Gross Gott in Bavaria or Hi in casual California. When told "You're up the creek", it can mean you're lost . . . or haven't a clue what you're talking about. Actually, that has long been one of my own favourite expressions long before visiting Australia. However, mine is "Up the creek without a paddle".

You'll hear lots of Cockney slang in some regions. Some samples of local linguistics follow . . . When I first heard someone talking about "Betty Britain" it was a surprise to learn they meant the Queen!

It wasn't too difficult to figure out what an outdoorsman meant when he pointed out an eccentric "Crocodile Dundee" type up in Queenland and commented, "He's gone tropo", meaning the tropics were frying his brain. Was it a step above or below being called "a banana bender" (native of Queensland)?

It's talking one's way around the country that gives travellers an introspection into its personality. Just standing around a lobby of a major big city hotel talking to other travellers doesn't do it. And the farther you get away from town, the more colourful those conversations become.

WE got started on person-to-person encounters on board our Qantas business class flight there. Did you know Qantas invented business class years ago and does it very well? The very personable steward, Gary Long, was a child actor who appeared in the movie adaptation of Nevil Shute's thought-provoking On the Beach.

He'd confided Ava Gardner had been difficult to deal with during filming in Melbourne. She'd said: "If they wanted to make a film about the end of the world, they've certainly come to the right place."

Visitors will discover Melbourne is considered one of the country's most urbane settings, but a major complication at that time seemed to be, according to Ms Gardner, "You couldn't even get a drink after 10 p.m." People in the film industry we met here seemed very down to earth and normal. He told us when the director of My Brilliant Career learned he was having a party of non-theatrical types, she called him up and asked: "Can I come?"

"Watch out for the wowsers," warned a Sydney party-type. Wowsers? "Someone who doesn't smoke, drink, like women, goes to church three times a week and doesn't want anyone else to enjoy them either."

Aussies like to abbreviate words and were years ahead of text messaging and teenage codes. "That's really Sus" translates to suspect. "That's crim" or "He's crim" is criminal. "Ta" is thank you.

A Holy Doodle Pub out the back of the Daintree General Store, a place with more than average local colour, an overheard conversation attracted our attention. "Strike a blow," one "bloke" said to another, who said they were "going to hit the track". Translation: "Get back to work" and "Head up the road".

And the definition "road" was generous. Arriving via a one-lane track with muddy gumbo on each side, it had widened as it reached Cape Tribulation, but there was talk of improvements ahead.

Aussies tend to have easy-to-meet, effervescent personalities. Unfortunately that wasn't true of two grim, glum small campground-cafe owners in a wilderness Queensland area. They'd be described as "drongo" . . . meaning, nerds.

Our Australian Government guide had stopped to inquire if there were any restaurants in the area and they said no . . . so it was eat there or not eat. A sign at its entrance proclaimed: "If you're looking for competitive prices, drive 150 miles to Cairns." Turns out there was a new restaurant just down the road.

In an opal mining camp, we visited someone with $100,000 worth of opals in their house, didn't believe in banks. They told us: "The dole came here a few years ago (this was our first 1981 trip). Now people hold a fortune worth of stones, because they're outrageously taxed, and they won't sell, and collect relief instead. They're dole budgers" . . . someone who doesn't want to work is a "budger".

And apparently there are a lot of "budgers". Small wonder people are trying to reach there by the boatload thanks to the "dole" policy. Learning about the tax structure is a revelation.

Remember the story about an Indiana chicken farmer who got into trouble because he raised some corn on his own land to feed his chickens and that broke bureaucratic allotment regulations? It raised so many problems and penalties, he sold out and left for Australia in disgust. But as my father was fond of saying: "The grass may look greener on the other side of the fence, but it still has to be cut." It turned out Australia's restrictions were far worse, with even more rules, red tape and complex bureaucracy than ones he'd left behind in Indiana. So that adventure in looking for a better place didn't last and he returned to the US.

At a remote sheep station we visited on our most recent trip, the owner described the town 50 miles north as "the absolute bottom . . . the most exciting thing to do is watch figures on the gas pump to see if they change". Perhaps that sense of isolation helps inspire the "word game" which seems to be something of a challenge of "can you top this"?

At a Sydney waterfront restaurant noted for seafood, we got another dose of translatable vocabulary. Under a sign that read, "The fish you eat today were swimming yesterday," sat a man ordering a "stubbie" (short-necked small bottle of beer) while his friend kept saying: "All I want is some 'tucker' (food)."

THEN there was Lone Pine Koala Refuge outside Brisbane where I met a cuddly koala named Higgins, after noted Australian sportsman Roy Higgins. Did you know those loveable little cuties favour a eucalyptus diet? The ranger there told me: "Australia has 500 varieties of eucalyptus, but koalas like only a couple dozen of them. So each day a truck goes out to pick tree tips for their menu."

Why do they have that sleepy look as though recovering from a late night? "Because they're nocturnal," explained the park ranger, "and eucalyptus also has a somewhat narcotic effect. They're also shy and under stress being cuddled by visitors, tend to have accidents . . . so be wary." Mine did, incidentally.

To say Australians take sports seriously is an understatement, so do neighbouring New Zealanders. Someone will probably tell you how New Zealanders turned over a tourist bus in Australia all because of a cricket match, but other New Zealanders righted it. Someone will also probably ask if you're a "footie" fan. They're talking about football and if you have a chance, take in an Australian Rules football game which usually begins in March. It promises to be lively. Real conversation stopper had to be a government official who confided Australia was so anxious about global warming, it had a unique coping mechanism.

"We've vaccinated cattle and sheep to prevent flatulence because methane gas produced by animals damages the ozone layer."

You can keep smiling so long as no one calls you "septic" ("septic tanks equals yank") or "wog" (usually intended as a derogatory description of someone without Anglo-Saxon heritage). And you wondered why so many brawls erupt in Aussie pubs!As we landed on those first two Qantas flights, music on the intercom was appropriately playing the very lilting Waltzing Matilda. Even that is Aussie code, Matilda being a kangeroo!

Travel factfile: Sad fact is that Australia's Government has ceased printing any travel literature and gone entirely onto web sites, not as conducive to travel planning as sitting back in an easy chair at your leisure and leafing through brochures. Look to your travel agent and good guidebooks for helpful suggestions.

For more information on the Commonwealth Games, check www.commonwealthgames.org.au.

Next week: On to New Guinea adventures