THE QUACK

AUDIO QUACK

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I told a Hinge date once that I learnt a lot from my experience of living in Australia.  

He replied with a sarcastic comment, ‘Oh yeah, Australia….such a big cultural difference…”

He had been sarcastic since he took off his coat, so I wasn’t surprised by this remark. And yes, he had a point; I didn’t have to learn a language or adapt to communism. Still, I felt I learnt a few valuable life lessons when I was Down Under.

Throughout my early twenties, I was inundated with images on social media of other worlds that were more wholesome, healthier, and beautiful than the drizzly London life I had. The #VanLife was a little too extreme, but the grass seemed greener in Australia, so I immigrated to Brisbane when I was 26 to #LiveMyBestLife.

I had visions of waking up to the sound of parrots. I would live off mangoes and float around in white linen. I would meditate in the morning and, in the evening, straddle surfboards as the sun dipped down behind me.  

I’d make friends who would match me in white linen. (We would look like a cult). We would spend our weekends drinking from coconuts and sunbathing on a boat.

Yes, one of my future friends would own a boat. 

After some time living in Brisbane, these are the things I fell in love with;

Coffee. They’re really good at coffee. The supermarkets were better than any Waitrose. I could drive an hour North and be on a sandy beach on the Sunshine Coast, drive an hour South and be in Surfer’s Paradise. And if I wanted, I could go to The Koala Sanctuary and sit with a kangaroo – (which beats petting a goat in the Cotswold Wildlife Park).

So, that was all good. 

However, my new lifestyle wasn’t going to plan. White linen is transparent and expensive and doesn’t look so good with a splodge of bright yellow mango on it. I found meditating excruciatingly boring, so that stopped after a week.

I also came to realise that creating a social life in a foreign land wasn’t as easy as movies led me to believe. (I’m looking at you, Mary-Kate and Ashely Olsen). I thought I would plod into Brisbane with my plummy accent and BOOM! PARTY TIME! But no, in your mid-twenties, it’s hard to make one friend… let alone a friend with a boat.  

The heat also made me sweat a comical amount. From the day I got off that plane to the day I got back on it again, I was a red-sweaty blob.

I once made the catastrophic decision to walk to a job interview in 40-degree heat. When I turned up, I was offered a leather chair to sit on for the interview, and when I got up, I had made a pond. It’s no surprise they didn’t want to hire the melting British girl. 

And then there was the outdoor Aussie lifestyle that I thought I could just… do.

So, I’m not really an outdoorsy kind of girl. I was never one to joyfully run into the ocean, therefore I don’t know why I thought I would suddenly start surfing in the Coral Sea, where all the sharks were. The fantasy of straddling a surfboard was crossed off.  I thought I could get into climbing. Once, I climbed (hobbled up) a teeny-tiny mountain (a big rock).  Once, and never again. 

The problem with moving to Australia was that I had to bring myself with me. My likes, dislikes, passions, and fears will not change, no matter what piece of land I’m on. 

If you looked at my Instagram though, you would see the kind of photos that enticed me there in the first place: blue seas, wildlife, tropical landscapes… as far as social media was concerned, I was #LivingMyBestLife. 

The reality, I was missing home.

So, Mr. Sarcastic Hinge, that’s what I learned when I moved to Australia. A lesson as old as time;

The grass is not always greener… sometimes it just has a filter over it.

Now, back in the UK, I have a greater appreciation for having my family nearby, having at least one friend, a cuppa, the changing seasons, and even the sound of football blaring out of a pub. Even.

 And lucky for your Mr. Sarcastic Hinge, I also missed  the sarcasm. 

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