I'd heard all this. Friends had come back from Australia glowing, talking constantly about how friendly everyone was. And I'd seen Crocodile Dundee.

What's really surprised me, then, isn't that any of these are wrong, but rather how very true they all are!

Our first view of Australia was just minutes before landing. Out of the window of our plane we saw the sun rising and surf crashing on the rugged eastern coast of Australia. A beautiful sight. It was hard to image that land, the first we'd seen since taking off from Los Angeles 14 hours before, was really Australia.

We landed, walked into the glistening new International terminal, and headed for Customs and Immigration. The Immigration guy looked at my passport, flashed me a smile, and waved me through. Not bad, but I was still worried about Customs. The Australians are extremely careful about blocking all non-native plants, animals, and food products into their country. On most non-US flights, they fumigate the planes before the passengers get off, hoping to kill any stealthy mosquitos and insects that have snuck aboard. On our flight they skipped this step, but we did have to fill out a form designed to find out if we were a threat to their environment. Turns out Sarah and I were.

We had two red-flags on our form. First, that we'd been on a farm in the past 30 days, and second that we were bringing food product into the country (an unopened jar of peanut butter). I expected a stern-faced agent who would grill us, search every item in our possession, and throw lots of accusatory glances our way. After all, that's what they gave us when we re-entered the US last week.

We stepped up to the counter and looked up at two smiling faces. One guy looked like an aborigine, and the other looked like a southern California surfer.

"Hello folks! How ya' doin'?"

Um fine. Is this a trick question?

They proceeded with a few non-threatening questions, then moved quickly on to the Olympic update, "Yeah, mate, Thorpie got another gold last night, quite a swimmer he is."

OK, they're clearly trying to get us to let our guard down. What are they trying to get us to admit?

"Oh! You're from Seattle. One of your ladies just won the breast-stroke! Megan Quann is it? Gold medal! What a swimmer. " They both smiled broadly, happy to bring us the good news.

Stay cool. These guys are professionals.

This line of talk continued on and on. They finished with the Olympic update, moved on to how nice the weather was going to be and then started giving us tips on where to visit while we were in town.

After about 15 minutes it finally dawned on me that maybe we weren't being interrogated. Though it was still hard for me to believe that two people who spent all day dealing with jet-lagged Americans could be so polite. I pointed to my bags and asked a bit too bruskly "So are we done?".

"Oh yeah, mate. No worries!"

There it was, a phrase we would hear again and again and one that I think really typifies the Australian spirit. "No worries."

We had heard that Australians don't especially respect authority, and I'd inferred from this that they felt the same sort of cynical attitude that Americans express about, say, congress or the government. However, the Australian's feelings about authority have more to do with a respect for equality than about a disrespect for a certain class. This feeling of equality is something that Americans always talk about but that Australians seem to live by.

Out of this feeling of equality comes two complimentary thoughts. If someone gets too high and mighty, they think "No worries. He'll fall flat on his face". Other the other side, if someone screws up or acts stupid (or a dumb American has to ask them for directions) they think "No worries, we've all been there before." It's a very refreshing attitude -- all political correctness goes out the window and they show genuine appreciation to everyone from waiter to Olympic athlete. One example, in Australia if there is one passenger in a taxi he rides in the front seat next to the driver. After all, it's just one mate giving another a ride.

The Australians don't worry about political correctness because they don't have to. They figure if we're all equal, why should they worry about offending the downtrodden? A side effect, then, is that puritanical Americans get taken aback at some of their jokes. On a tour bus one day, our driver told joke after joke for the hour-long drive home. Most of them began something like "So the Pope and Hitler walk into a brothel. . .". But here's the one he told that's fit for public consumption:

These 2 New Zealanders were walking through the outback. They came to a strange set of tracks and bent over to look at them more closely. "These must be kangaroo tracks." "No," the other said, "I think they're koala." "No way, these are kangaroo tracks." "Hmmm, maybe they're camel tracks?" Then a train hit them.

Back to "No worries. . .". The wonderful thing about the Australians is that when they ask "How are you mate?" or they ask how you're enjoying your stay, they genuinely seem to care. It's not like walking into a Nordstrom in the States where the staff is extremely polite and helpful, but you they don't give a rip about you or where you came. Here, when someone talks to you they look you in the eye and actually care about what you have to say. You can sit down next to someone at a bus stop, and within minutes they're talking to you like they've known you forever. They're giving you tips on what to see, giving you their phone number in case you need a place to stay. These things literally happened to us every day. It was amazing.

OK, so there are some down sides to Australians. First is that this feeling of equality results in horrible service at restaurants. Waiters aren't servants, they're more like friends that wander by every once in a while and if you happen to catch their attention they'll get you what you need. They may sit down and talk to you for 15 minutes, but then you might not see them again for another 30.

Most annoying of all (and this may pertain more to Olympic visitors than to Sydneysiders themselves) is that EVERYONE seems to have a cell phone. Worse yet, they have them set to play songs rather than ring. There is nothing worse than sitting in an Olympic venue, caught up in all the majesty of the moment, when all of a sudden you hear the William Tell Overture playing in all its digital glory from the row behind you.

But here I'll take the bad with good any day. They are so excited to have the Olympics, and so proud of their country, and so genuine about their feelings that it's intoxicating.

Something happened our last night and Sydney that wrapped up the magic for me. We were in a park with 250,000 locals watching the closing ceremonies on a big screen TV. While we were waiting for the ceremonies to begin, they were replaying hilights of them Olympics. Every time an Australian won their event the crowd cheered wildly. What I didn't expect was that every time they replayed the medal ceremony, the entire crowd got to their feet and proudly (and loudly) sang the national anthem. Young and old alike.