Bye triple-A credit rating. I know it's bad but I'm more interested in who the phantom piddler is in the sandpit at my son's playschool, or who left my cat a death threat (top suspect – the man who mows in his underwear three doors away). That's what living Downunder does to you. It feels as if you're hanging off the world by your fingertips. News from elsewhere is strangely irrelevant. I'm told more people than ever are considering an economic move down under. It just seems perfect – a fossilised England circa 1976 with the weather to match, fat pink prawns on the barbie, and Skippy in the back yard indicating that your family dog may be in trouble down a well. It's the land of opportunity and a "fair go". Great. See you down here. Just one big warning – Australia is not "hot Britain" – as one departing family muttered recently in disgust to me.

Let's tackle your most important question first. Yes, the spiders are big and they're confused. Dinner-plate-sized arachnids can meander into your house looking for spider sex – only to find (quite understandable) human violence. I've seen one that could feed a family of four in my kitchen. Many Australians also have this "thing" that they have been told to keep away from anything with eight legs all their lives – so, as the Brit, you'll be the person responsible for banging it over the head with a mop or scooping it in a bucket (a pint glass won't do). Eventually, once you've been assaulted by the swarms of flies and winged things even the locals can't identify, you'll be team spider anyway.

Basically, Dorothy, whatever state you land in – you're not in Kansas any more. Things are very different Downunder.

Australian TV, for example, is awful. Think that's not important? It's often given as a top reason why Poms "don't last". Morning television is like a Victoria Wood/Julie Walters sketch splattered with infomercials for miracle bras ("Aussie breasts have never looked better!"), and weight-loss shakes. This is because TV here is much less important. Australians actually like doing "stuff" … shacks in the bush, parties in the yard, just chatting in the back garden. Perhaps it comes from being a nation of builders and pioneers, but The X Factor isn't such a big deal here. Saturdays nights aren't about TV – they are about human beings actually talking to you. This may well be healthy and right – but if you're British this comes as a shock. When your galvanising factor has been Simon Cowell for many years, questions about what you think about development in Antarctica (not that far away) can be startling.

Sometimes, Australia is so far behind, it's actually ahead. How I mocked the supermarkets when I first arrived here. Remember Tesco from two decades ago? Basically bearable but with lots of teenagers on work experience, tinned peaches on special, and a 15-minute wait at the deli for two slices of shiny ham? That's a lot of Aussie supermarkets. THEY DON'T EVEN SELL BOOZE. This, though, has allowed independent butchers, grocers, and vintners to survive and thrive, far more than in the UK. No horsemeat scandal here – most people can name the field or farm where their steak comes from. The Australian food industry's baby has not been thrown out with the bath water and nothing equine has been added.

Australia is like Britain in the 70s, but without the strikes, the power cuts and punk (too much soft rock here for anyone's good). Some of the relics are bad. Political correctness doesn't exist here. British comedy dinosaurs such as Mind Your Language are re-run without complaint. Some people are openly racist in a way that would be unheard of back home. Generations of Greek and Italian immigrants dating back to the 40s and 50s moan without irony about the increasing numbers and cultural influence of Asian and African immigrants. A boatload of asylum seekers sparks a national crisis; and there are still huge social discrepancies between the Aboriginal community and the rest of Australia. You are walking into a country that is shifting, not yet sure of where it is going or who it wants to be aligned to. This is a nation in flux. Its identity not yet certain.

Since I've lived abroad I've realised why we Brits can be so self-deprecating. It's because we had it all – and lost it all. We know we're over our peak. We're the old man of the world. Australia is the young buck nowhere near his peak. That's pressure. Twenty million people rattle around this enormous continent with potential and optimism. Most come here purposefully for a better life. That makes an enormous difference to a national psyche. The government seems to have incentives for everything. My tax rate (not a Jimmy Carr dodge – completely kosher) as a small business is to die for. The government pays half my childcare bill (not means tested), and Australians – particularly my beloved Tasmanians – will cut off their arm to help you. They are unfailingly friendly and helpful. Just don't try to change things. They don't want things changed. Things are fine the way they are unless they say so. Or, as one taxi driver said to me: "You could live here a hundred years and still be our guest. You'll be treated like a guest but a guest doesn't try to change the hotel decor."

So come and give it a go. If you can get through the multiple forms, medical tests, chest X-rays and sniffer beagles at customs (don't bring foreign fruit – it's almost like bringing in crack). Just remember, the sun is setting on Australia as part of the empire. This isn't the place it used to be. Skippy is dead, but long live the new multicultural Australia that is emerging from the ashes of … Ooh – Shhh! Don't mention the Ashes! They still don't like losing!