Thongs – or flip-flops – have caused confusion for some learning Aussie terms. Photo: @YuriArcursPeopleimages Envato.
Aussie slang doesn’t just get lost on tourists — it can leave perfectly intelligent, fluent-in-English adults completely bamboozled.
Take my group of friends who now call Australia home: an Irishwoman, South African and Portuguese. Sounds like the start of a pub joke, but it’s just our WhatsApp group.
I’ve stopped asking them to pass the “dead horse” (sauce) and a “snag” (sausage) off the “barbie” (barbecue) for my “sanger” (sandwich), because each time I do, someone looks at me like I’ve asked them to perform surgery using a greasy tea towel.
But it’s the more innocent phrases that really get lost in translation and cause chaos.
Like the time one friend was asked to “bring a plate” to an event. So she did — literally. A lovely bit of crockery.
She arrived proudly with her best china, only to discover she was the only person who hadn’t brought food.
She’s since recovered. Sort of.
Next came the request to bring morning tea for an event at the kids’ school.
Eager to impress, she popped down to Woolies to buy several types of tea — including her South African favourite, Rooibos.
Turns out morning tea means something entirely different in Australia.
Cue the awkward moment when other mums had to share their lamingtons and Anzac biscuits while her kids unpacked what looked like a retirement village gift basket brimming with an impressive selection of Twinings tea bags.
By Christmas, she thought she had Aussie customs down … until someone asked her to bring “bon bons”.
She scoured every aisle in Woolies, finally giving up and phoning, to be told, “They’re Christmas crackers, mate”.
Such confusion isn’t limited to social occasions.
One friend at the Woolies checkout was asked if she wanted her “chook” in a bag.
“My what now?”
She only relaxed when the cashier pointed to the roast chicken.
Another, hopping off the plane for their first time in Australia, went to Red Rooster and ordered a half portion of chicken.
When asked what side he would like, a little puzzled, he politely responded: “The left side should be fine”.
My Irish friend, rocking up to a nightclub on a hot summer’s night, was taken aback when the bouncer told her she couldn’t wear thongs.
She started panicking, assuming he had somehow x-ray visioned her underwear.
“No love,” he said, pointing to her feet. “The flip-flops”.
While working on a tradie site, one friend was asked if she wanted to go for smoko.
“No thanks, I don’t smoke,” came the response.
Turns out smoko means tea, bikkies, gossip and sitting down for a bit — smoking optional since 1996.
Even driving’s a cultural minefield.
One friend was given directions to a house, which included turning at the roundabout. She drove around the city for 20 minutes looking for a carnival with rides.
She was later told that a roundabout means a traffic circle.
Then there are accent struggles.
With a carload of kids, the Irishwoman tried ordering “eight” ice creams at Macca’s, but eventually had to let one of the kids take over the order when the teen behind the counter just blinked at her constant request for this thing called “iyit”.
Or the South African asking kids what “year” they were in.
“Yur?”, the puzzled kids mumbled back, as if she’d just cursed in Klingon.
But the funniest moments come when people think they know Aussie slang.
One Portuguese friend, quite familiar with Aussie culture, had a carpenter renovate her house.
When the carpenter asked, “Where’s your manhole?”, she took him and the electrician down the hallway and said, “Here it is”, pointing to the toilet.
There was silence. Then fits of laughter.
Turns out, she thought manhole was Aussie slang for a toilet. (Spoiler: It’s the hole in your ceiling for attic access. Very different vibe).
No names have been used here, not just to protect identities — but because they’ve all sworn to kill me if I ever breathe a word.
