Regional Australian towns take Christmas celebrations to wonderfully endearing extremes. In some communities, the arrival of Santa on a fire truck has become such serious business that planning begins in October. Arguments have been known to break out over the route Santa should take through town.

One regional NSW town holds an annual Christmas parade that features Santa arriving on a boat, despite being several hundred kilometres from the coast. Another community insists on a traditional Christmas pageant complete with fake snow, which melts into a sticky mess within minutes in the summer heat but continues because "tradition is tradition".

The town of Goolgowi once held a Christmas barbecue that was so large it required multiple barbecues running simultaneously and became an unofficial competition to see who could cook the most sausages. The event grew so big it had to be moved to the showgrounds. Nearby towns, naturally, became jealous and started their own mega barbecues, leading to an unspoken rivalry over who hosts the best Christmas sausage sizzle.

In some remote communities, Christmas is the one time of year when everyone who has moved away returns, temporarily doubling or tripling the population. This creates logistical nightmares for the local pub, which suddenly has to serve crowds it is not equipped to handle. Stories of people waiting hours for a Christmas beer are common, but somehow this becomes part of the charm.

The phenomenon of Christmas in July events in regional areas adds another layer of absurdity. Towns that experience scorching Decembers have decided to celebrate a "proper" Christmas in the middle of winter, complete with roast dinners, hot puddings and people wearing ridiculous festive jumpers. Some communities now put more effort into their July Christmas than their actual Christmas.

Australian families attempting to visit relatives for Christmas face challenges that would make northern hemisphere travellers weep. Driving eight hours across the outback in 45 degree heat with children asking "are we there yet" every five minutes is a special kind of torture.

Every year, families breakdown on remote highways in the middle of nowhere on Christmas Eve, leading to roadside celebrations that become family legends. One family spent Christmas Day 2017 waiting for a tow truck in Cobar, eating melted chocolates and warm soft drink whilst sitting in the shade of their broken down car. They now refer to it as "the Cobar Christmas" and claim it was the most memorable one they have had.

Flights home for Christmas are notoriously expensive, leading to bizarre situations where people fly to Bali for less than it would cost to fly from Sydney to Perth. Some Australians have been known to schedule "accidentally" being overseas for Christmas to avoid both the expense and obligation of family gatherings.

Regional airports during the Christmas period are chaotic. Small terminals designed for a handful of daily flights suddenly deal with hundreds of people trying to get home, leading to queues stretching outside and delays that would make city airports blush. The sight of someone trying to carry a surfboard, presents and a Esky through a crowded regional airport has become iconically Australian.

Then there are the families who attempt caravan trips for Christmas, towing their homes behind them across vast distances. Arguments about who failed to pack the tent pegs or forgot to fill the water tank have ruined more than one family Christmas. Some rest stops along major highways see temporary communities form on Christmas Eve as caravanners pull over for the night.

No discussion of Australian Christmas is complete without acknowledging the sacred tradition of backyard cricket. What starts as a casual game after lunch inevitably becomes a fiercely competitive championship with complex rules, disputed decisions and occasional family feuds.

The wicket is usually a bin or eskimo bin. The bat is whatever is handy, sometimes an actual cricket bat but often a plastic toy or even a thong. The ball might be a tennis ball, a cricket ball if people are feeling brave, or in desperate circumstances a rolled up ball of tape. Boundaries are defined by landmarks like "past the lemon tree is four runs" or "hitting the shed is six and out".

Arguments about whether someone was caught behind or if the ball hit the wicket are inevitable. Family members take sides, old grudges resurface, and what started as a friendly game can quickly escalate into something resembling tribal warfare. Children cry. Adults argue. Someone always claims the rules are being changed mid game to favour the other team.

The real controversy comes when a ball goes over the fence into the neighbour's yard. Retrieving it often reveals several other balls from previous years, leading to the question of whether they are still playable or have degraded too much. Some families have been known to maintain poor relationships with neighbours entirely due to backyard cricket related incidents.

Heat plays a significant factor. By mid afternoon on Christmas Day, temperatures can be extreme, leading to players abandoning the game to jump in the pool, then returning wet to continue playing. The combination of wet hands, a slippery ball and competitive spirits has resulted in numerous Christmas Day injuries requiring medical attention.