Tomorrow, millions of Aussies will join together in some much-loved activities — firing up the barbie, playing backyard cricket, competing in flipflop-throwing contests, hitting the beach in the evening to watch the fireworks and, of course, downing a few tinnies along the way. Tomorrow, you see, is Australia Day, when the locals mark the anniversary of the landing of the First Fleet in 1788 and, as the promotional ads say, “Celebrate What’s Great!” about their country.

And there’s a lot to celebrate. Australia has vibrant cities, better beaches than you’ll find anywhere else, dramatic coastal scenery and awe-inspiring, wide-open bush and desert vistas. The lifestyle is laid-back and outdoorsy, and the people are mostly friendly as can be. As one of the official Australia Day websites points out, the country also gave the world the rotary hoe, permanent-crease trousers and wine-in-a-box.

So the most immediate answer that sprang to mind when a reader emailed to ask if Irish people should move Down Under was: “Duh!” Why wouldn’t you move to Australia when Ireland these days is about as much fun as the seventh circle of hell?

Why wouldn’t you sell your house, assuming you can find anyone to buy it, and come here where the sun shines and property is cheap, at least if you’re spending euros? A little more than €500,000, for example, will buy you a sprawling, period, four-bed homestead on 26 acres in the Yarramalong Valley, an hour from Sydney. Doesn’t suit? How about €300,000 for a pretty two-bedroom cottage in Glebe, a trendy suburb just a stroll from Sydney’s city centre? Tempting, no?

Unfortunately, when you stop daydreaming about this southern hemisphere paradise and start investigating the practicalities, the notion of jacking it all in and moving to Australia might lose its lustre. While you arrive with euros, once you start working you’re earning Aussie dollars, which are not quite as close to scrap paper as Zimbabwean dollars but won’t exactly leave you a princess of purchasing power.

Even before you arrive, you’ll need an Aussie visa, which is relatively easy for tradespeople to get but more difficult for those in other professions. Even with a visa you could struggle to find a job. Half a million Australians are unemployed, with more being laid off every week. Matters aren’t as dire as they are at home, but dark times are coming. New South Wales is already in recession and the whole country will probably be in the same sinking boat before the year is out.

“Batten the hatches,” advised a report last week by Access Economics, a leading economic forecaster. “This is not just a recession. This is the sharpest deceleration Australia’s economy has ever seen.” The report predicted that the country’s economic boom would “unwind scarily fast” and concluded gloomily, if frankly, that the federal budget was “buggered”.

Still, if you’re not working, you’ll have plenty of time to do whatever you like, right? Eh, wrong, actually. Australians might be laid-back but their rulers are not. This is a nanny state par excellence. One of the first things you’ll see at the beach is an enormous sign warning you of all the dangers of being at the beach (such as rip currents) and listing all the things you’re not allowed to do — drink alcohol or collect invertebrates, for a start.

The federal government will soon introduce mandatory internet filtering — in other words, censorship — although this is being opposed by the newly launched Australian Sex Party (“We’re serious about sex”). State governments seem to be vying with each other to introduce ever-more restrictive liquor laws.

After midnight, bars in many of Sydney’s large venues must now close for 10 minutes every hour, cannot serve more than four drinks to any one person, cannot serve shots and cannot serve drinks in glass containers. Obviously these restrictions have the effect of people drinking exactly as much as they used to, if not more due to the stress of having only 50 minutes an hour in which to get to the bar, and having to split rounds so everyone gets a drink.

Conversely, while Sydney is known as Sin City because of its 24-hour drinking culture (or maybe 23-hour when you subtract all those 10-minute time-outs), it can be tricky to get a drink in smaller towns. In Batemans Bay, a seaside town with about the same population as Carlow, we couldn’t find a bar open after 10pm. The centre of Wollongong, a city larger than Cork, was eerily deserted on a Tuesday evening. Tumbleweed rolling through would be by far the most exciting event of a midweek night out in Wollongong.

It’s an early-to-bed, early-to-rise culture in Australia — I still can’t get used to receiving cheery texts from Aussies at 8am — and night owls like me might never acclimatise. At least being a night owl allows you to chat easily to the folks at home, 11 hours behind and at least 30 hours’ travel away.

So should you move to Australia? Despite all the reasons not to, if it’s good weather, room to roam and quality of life you’re after, the answer is still probably “Duh!”. It wouldn’t be easy, but it couldn’t be worse than riding out the recession at home. Who knows, in a few years’ time you may find yourself taking part in that other great tradition of Australia Day — the citizenship ceremony.

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