Lessons from My Working Holiday

Five years have gone by since the day I landed in Sydney for my year-long working holiday visa. I remember arriving groggily in the city after clearing customs and quickly finding my pastel purple backpack on the baggage belt. I put my only money, an Australian dollar coin my grandmother gave me from a previous trip, into a payphone to call my then-boyfriend to pick me up.

It was the middle of summer there and I was quickly affected by the heat. In a matter of hours, I jumped into a new city, a new country, a new place to live and a new relationship. I’ve learned a lot since then, but that year taught me more than I ever expected. They’re lessons I keep with me, even five years later.

I learned how to live on my own.

I was only a few months out of college, from May to January, and I had to figure out how to live on my own. I lived with my then-boyfriend and his father for a few months of my time there, but otherwise, I supported myself and didn’t accept money from my parents. I figured out the balance of working, paying for essentials and saving for travel. I was able to live for almost six months before traveling for another three months.

I learned how to make friends as an adult.

After college, I thought it would be difficult to make new friends. But thankfully, living in Australia made it easy for me. I made friends at work, who were also on working holiday visas, through my roommates, who I found on Gumtree (a Craigslist-like website), and through the organization now known as Travel Massive, which was in its original chapter. It’s been more difficult since then, but I know that getting involved is how you make friends once you’re out of school.

I learned how to live with little. 

I arrived in Sydney with just a backpack (albeit a 65-liter backpack) full of clothes. I had only a few t-shirts, shorts, and dresses to get me through the year as well as a few photos from home. I moved into a tiny room in a suburban townhouse with only enough room for a twin bed, desk, and built-in closet. But I had everything I needed to live, namely a place to sleep, a bathroom, kitchen, TV and washing machine. I also had two great roommates who I hardly ever saw!

I learned how to get by without a car. 

Coming from a city where public transportation only services a small portion of the city, I was amazed at how far I was able to go without a car. It’s not like I had another option, of course, but it was never a problem either. I walked from my house less than ten minutes to get to the train and even less to the bus stop.

It was a 20-minute walk to the grocery store. Once I was in Sydney city, I was able to hop a train to the Blue Mountains or a Greyhound bus further up the coast, as I did towards the end of my trip.

I learned how to find a community. 

Just as hard as making friends away from home is finding a community. But I was blessed to do this within 24 hours of arriving in Sydney. Still weary with jet lag, I put on my big girl pants and took the train into the city for my first travel meetup.

What I didn’t know then was that the bar it took place at would later be my workplace for six months. I met friends I’d conversed with on Twitter, like Brooke, Lauren and Heather. At work, I hung out with fellow expats. We all understood what one another was going through.

I learned how twisted the American healthcare industry is. 

After a weekend of severe stomach pains, I reluctantly visited a general practitioner near my house, preparing myself for medical bills for even a basic visit. I almost didn’t go for this reason, as it certainly would have cost me dearly at home since I didn’t have insurance. But bless Australia and their government healthcare. I was able to see the doctor and get my prescription for less than $50 AUD. This wouldn’t have even been my co-pay at home.

I learned how to work 12-hour shifts and still make time for partying. 

Since I was a bartender, I was working when most people were out having fun. This all came to a head on Fridays, when I would work from 12 pm to midnight with about an hour break all day. But I got two meals included plus cash tips, so I couldn’t complain much.

But once it was “knock-off time,” it was on. My group of friends would start with a drink or two at The Ship Inn, the bar around the corner that stayed open later, before hopping in a taxi for King’s Cross, the red-light and nightlife district that is chaos 24 hours a day.

We’d go to a bar or club for another couple of hours before taking taxis home at 4 or 5 am. How I was able to rally for a big night out after being on my feet for longer than I’d been awake is still beyond me, but that’s youth for you.

I learned how to say goodbye. 

The hardest part about being in a place on a temporary visa, and all your friends being on the same visa, is that people are always leaving. I can’t tell you how many times I went to “going away drinks” with friends before they moved to other parts of Australia, went to the country to work on farms for their second-year visas, or moved home to go back to university. Since then, though, I’ve been lucky to see most of these friends again, in Germany, Thailand and the United States. It’s never really goodbye!

I learned how unprepared I was for my working holiday.

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you’ll remember my posts leading up to my trip to Australia. I talked about my budget and how the savings process was going. I didn’t save nearly enough money for an entire year and I had naïve expectations that I could live solely on my fledgling writing career.

I was just starting out at that point and didn’t know how hard it would be or how difficult it is to find reliable internet in Australia. I also thought that in one year, I’d be able to see all of Australia plus Southeast Asia, New Zealand and Fiji. Was I ever wrong! I only managed to see half of Australia. I also didn’t bring anything to wear on a job interview, which was stupid since it’s in the name: WORKING holiday.

I learned how to conquer fears. 

The name of the game in Australia was tackling my fears. It didn’t matter that I was afraid of heights: I went bungy jumping. It didn’t matter that deep water freaked me out: I learned to scuba dive. It didn’t matter that my father told me never to get on a motorcycle: I rode one in Agnes Water. What’s the point of taking a life-changing trip if it doesn’t actually change your life?

I learned that I wanted a life of travel. 

Traveling long term only teaches you how much more you want to travel. Even after I got home from Australia, I was itching to get on the road again and I have made a point to travel as much as I can ever since. I may not be traveling for long periods like I have previously, but I actively choose to see the world. And my working holiday in Australia certainly prepared me for anything.

What is the most important lesson you’ve learned from a trip?