18,000 Kilometres From Home: Australia to Europe

Growing up in the suburbs of Sydney, Australia, I saw my life ahead of me as a clear and structured path; a predisposition to my planning, and an ode to predictability. Each facet, each tile in the ground was already placed and envisioned so clearly. 

So, when I accidentally stumbled upon an advertisement for Forward College, orange banners and all, I was met with a surprised taste of envy; a vexation of jealousy. 

I already had my whole life planned. Who would ever risk their fate and move between different countries? At the time, I was already studying at the law school I had known I would study at from the age of fifteen. I knew which firms I was going to apply to; which bars I would go to; I already chose the houses in the suburb I always loved; and would continue at the same beach I swam at every summer since I was seven. But there was one big problem: it all felt too easy. Where was the challenge in it? The struggles Carrie Bradshaw had led me to expect from my twenties? And why was it so boring?

Hence, as any indecisive nineteen year old, I went through the pros and cons of moving:

Pros: 

• A degree from LSE
• Spend a year in Lisbon (a city I loved most during my travels).
• Spend a year in Paris (a city I could always see myself living in).
• Spend a year in Berlin (a city I think is most me).

Cons:

• Fear..?

Admittedly, I was fixated. This all seemed too good to be true. The thought of Forward College lingered so deep in my mind, until I mustered up the courage to finally talk to my parents. Then came the shift in the narrative of my life that was created since I was a child. Besides, if cats have nine lives, would it really be so bad to risk one, and open Pandora’s box?

I went from planning to travel around Europe each summer, to travelling back to Australia each summer instead. I had never once pictured my life to turn out the way it has, and I will forever be thankful for that one advertisement I accidentally stumbled upon

Moving to Lisbon at the age of nineteen, 18,000 kilometres from home, was no easy task. Just two months before, I was studying for exams. And suddenly, there I was: holding a bottle of Superbock in my left hand, and a Portuguese tart on my right. ‘Pastel de Nata’ as we locals like to say. Wedged in-between new faces that would soon become lifelong friendships, on the sand of Caparica beach, I remember watching the sunset and letting out a breath of sweet relief; the hard part is over, and finally I can enjoy this experience. It was at that moment when I knew this had all been worth it.

You’re not just changing cities or starting university somewhere new; you’re leaving behind an entire life. Your family, your friends, the places you know by heart, and all the little routines that make somewhere feel like home suddenly exist on the other side of the world. 

There is something so exciting about starting fresh in a place where nobody knows you yet. You get to discover a new city, meet people from completely different backgrounds, and build a life that looks nothing like the one you left behind. But there are also moments when the distance feels very real. You can’t simply go home for the weekend or see your family whenever you feel like it. Even the smallest things you once took for granted can become things you miss. 

Living so far away has taught me that independence isn’t necessarily about having everything figured out. Sometimes, it’s about learning to navigate unfamiliar situations, making decisions for yourself, and getting comfortable with the fact that you won’t always know what you’re doing. It’s about building a life somewhere new, even when part of you still feels connected to the place you came from.

Moving abroad has also made me more comfortable with not knowing what to expect. 

Every new place comes with its own rhythms, social norms, and little things you have to figure out. What feels completely normal in one country might be unfamiliar somewhere else. Places that once seemed distant and almost abstract have become accessible parts of the world around me. You learn to adapt, ask questions, make mistakes, and try again.

It’s a shift that’s difficult to fully appreciate until you’ve experienced it yourself. You begin to realise how much there is to discover beyond the place you grew up, and how easily you can step outside your usual surroundings. A weekend away can introduce you to an entirely different culture, while even an ordinary day in a new city can challenge assumptions you didn’t realise you had.

I think I’ve simply found myself in a place where more of the world feels within reach. Suddenly, the world feels much smaller: and you feel like you can do anything.