They’ve done it: the land down under is stepping up in style. This week, Perth, Western Australia has officially been named the host city for the Gay Games XIII in 2030 — a major win not just for Australia, but for the entire Asia-Pacific region’s queer sporting community. It’s a ripper of a moment, full of possibility and promise.
Let’s break this down: after a massive global bidding war involving 25 cities across five continents, Perth edged out Denver in the U.S. to claim the crown. The announcement — made by the Federation of Gay Games (FGG) in Valencia — places Australia right at the heart of inclusive sport. What’s more, the Games are expected to include up to 36 sporting events plus six cultural events, and draw thousands of athletes, artists and spectators alike. For those who love Aussie-isms: this is big-time — think “fair dinkum” meets “game on”.
But let’s notch the lens to the Asia-Pacific region for a moment. This part of the world has a complex relationship with LGBTQ athletes and sport. When the Gay Games came to Hong Kong in 2023 — one of the first times the event was staged in Asia — it carried extra weight. Despite opposition from anti-LGBTQ lawmakers, around 2,400 participants from 45 countries gathered for sport and culture. The event signalled hope for inclusion, though in many parts of Asia the playing field remains far from level.
In Southeast Asia and the Pacific, queer athletes often face a bumpy ride. Legal protections vary wildly — some countries offer progress, others lag behind or even regress. Because of this patchy terrain, visibility in sport is a bold, even radical move. In this context, Australia’s hosting of the Gay Games sends a message: not only “you’re welcome,” but “we’re hosting you, front and centre.” Because when sport becomes inclusive, it shifts culture. Look no further than how “Pride Houses” at mega-events have become safe hubs for LGBTQIA+ athletes and allies — a concept that has taken hold globally, including in Asia.
Now, sure, Australia isn’t perfect in this realm either — homophobia, transphobia and systemic barriers still rear their ugly heads even in the land of kangaroos. But the fact that the event will be held in Perth opens up a major opportunity. It can serve as a regional beacon, a chance for Asia-Pacific queer athletes to train, compete, connect and be seen. It means increased visibility, but also hopefully more infrastructure, more local programmes, more cultural change.
There’s another angle: the story of queer sport is also a story of culture and community. In Australia’s case, the Games aren’t just about sport; they’re about art, music, performance, celebration of difference. The FGG’s policy emphasises that “all athletes are welcome” — including trans and non-binary participants — reinforcing core values of participation, personal best and inclusion. That kind of message echoes in Asia but is often drowned out by other priorities. Hosting in Australia gives a louder voice to those values.
From a cultural perspective, it’s interesting to consider the Asia-Pacific mix: in parts of East Asia, legal reforms are creeping in (Taiwan’s marriage equality, for example), while in other parts of Southeast Asia queer visibility is still heavily constrained. Japan, Korea, Philippines, Indonesia, Malaysia — each has a unique mix of tradition, modernity, religion, law and activism. For an Asian-based blog like ours, this is fascinating terrain. The Games arriving in Australia means a major sporting celebration relatively close to home for Asia’s queer athletes and supporters, which might catalyse new regional collaboration, new networks, new standards.
And let’s zoom out: when Perth hosts in 2030, it will be a full decade since the Games last resonated in this part of the world. Since Hong Kong/GDL in 2023, the next one is in Valencia in 2026, so 2030 in Perth is a big leap — physically, regionally and symbolically. Australia will have the chance to show off its hospitality, its multicultural society, its Indigenous and Pacific connections, and its commitments to inclusion. Throw in surf, sun, Aussie BBQs and good vibes — and you’ve got something a bit special.
In sum: the host announcement is more than just about Australia or sport. It’s a signal to the Asia-Pacific region that queer athletes, queer culture and queer community matter. It’s a moment to raise the bar, to show that even in regions where visibility has been limited, change is possible. So, fair go, Australia! Put on your stubbie shorts, dust off your surfboard and get ready to welcome the world — from the top of your lungs: “Game on!”
Auntie is bursting with pride! Australia, you bloody legends — you’ve done it! Hosting the 2030 Gay Games in Perth? That’s not just a win for sport, it’s a victory for every queer soul who ever got side-eyed at school PE or told to “play it straight.” Auntie’s already packing her rainbow sarong, sunscreen, and a giant bag of popcorn. You’ll spot her in the stands, waving her flag and yelling, “Go you fabulous creatures!” at anyone within earshot.
This is a big moment, mates. The Asia-Pacific hasn’t exactly been the easiest playground for queer athletes. Remember Hong Kong 2023? Brave, yes — but it faced political heat, social backlash, and all sorts of red-tape headaches. So the fact that Australia’s now stepping up says something powerful: the region is ready for change, and Perth is ready to host it with open arms (and open bars). Because if there’s one thing Aussies know how to do, it’s throw a proper party — and make sure everyone’s invited.
Auntie’s proud of her Aussie sisters, brothers, and all the beautiful in-betweens who fought to make this possible. This isn’t just a sports event — it’s a celebration of love, sweat, glitter, and guts. And Perth, that sun-drenched city by the sea, is about to become the beating heart of queer pride in the southern hemisphere. Auntie can already picture it: drag queens high-fiving rugby players, swimmers swapping medals for Mardi Gras beads, and a Pride parade snaking through the city like a rainbow serpent from the Dreamtime.
But let’s not forget — this is also about solidarity. Many of Auntie’s friends across Asia still face bans, stigma, or silence when they come out as queer athletes. In Malaysia, Indonesia, or parts of the Pacific, being openly gay can still end a career before it begins. So, Perth 2030 isn’t just a celebration — it’s a statement. That sport belongs to everyone, that talent and heart don’t come with a gender or sexuality label, and that the field, pool, and dance floor are all fair game for fabulousness.
So yes, Auntie will be there — cheering, crying, maybe flirting with a lifeguard or two. Because this is what pride looks like when it wins: loud, sweaty, sunburnt, and utterly glorious. Australia, darling, you’ve done us proud. Game on!