You Never Know Unless You Go
Three years ago, I thought I had it all. Turning 30 I had a good career in a reputable financial institution that had weathered the 2008/2009 global financial crisis. I was the owner of a cute little home with the mortgage on track to be paid down in the standard 25 year term, or less if I stopped buying so many pairs of shoes that I didn’t really need. I was incredibly fortunate to have no personal debt. I considered myself lucky to travel every few years to get out of my own bubble. Yet I found myself constantly thinking that for me there had to be more to life.
You never know unless you go
I had watched, cheered, and boasted about the wonderful trips abroad that several of my friends had done. Each time I congratulated them on their independent spirit and wished them nothing but the best; it never occurred to me that I could be doing that, too. I had a career, a mortgage, and a life in the city.
But then something started to shift and crack inside me. I was becoming despondent with my status quo. My life had become a routine dictated by train schedules, online bill payment dates, and the typical weekend social outings.
Yet I found myself constantly thinking that for me there had to be more to life.
Something had to change. It was like walking into a brick wall. I realized that I disliked my job, and I was living to pay a mortgage. My friends were all getting married, starting families, and quickly filling their lives with other things. And what was I doing? Whatever it was, it wasn’t making me happy. A very short pros/cons list later (pro to stay: it’s comfortable. Con to stay: It’s easy here. Enough said.)
I decided it was time for me to go. I applied for a working-holiday visa in Australia, which would entitle me to live and work there for up to one year. This is significant because as a Canadian you are only eligible for this visa if you are 30 or under. Turning 31 soon, my window of opportunity was closing fast, so I leapt through it with everything I had in me. The next few months were a frenzied operation of planning, selling, packing, and finally, saying good-bye and see you soon to dear friends and family.
You only live once
My only objective when arriving in Australia was to make sure I got all the way around the country, picking up work as I needed it. It took a few months to adjust and familiarize myself with the Aussie way of life, not to mention the lingo. Thankfully I had family to stay with, so that cushioned my integration.
A few months into my year-long adventure, I decided to head back to a big city: Sydney. I arrived full of ambition and ready to scoop up the first job I could get my hands on. It took a couple of weeks to get my foot in with a few staffing agencies, but then I was offered a six week temporary position in a financial institution that paid incredibly well.
I thought, “I’d be a fool not to take this.” I just assumed that I should agree, but my physical reaction surprised me. I starting shaking and sweating, and I thought I was going to be sick. In that moment I realized that I didn’t want anything to do with the concrete-corporate jungle anymore. Needless to say, I turned down the job. Instead, I started working in exchange for accommodation at a hostel and spent my days carefree and exploring the city.
In that moment I realized that I didn’t want anything to do with the concrete-corporate jungle anymore.
After seven weeks in Sydney, winter moved in, and I decided to trek north and follow summer. I visited most of the typical tourist attractions but kept getting pulled towards the smaller towns and quieter venues. I had a feeling that there was more to experience off the beaten track. And meeting locals was far more rewarding than meeting young 20-somethings on their gap year out to drink their parents’ credit card into new debt lows.
I pushed on and arrived in Cairns, where I immediately started to look for work. It had been a solid 6 months of unemployment, and I was starting to feel a bit in need of some money. I got a call one sunny afternoon asking if I wanted a job in rural Queensland, eight hours inland and a minimum of 90 miles (150 km) away from the nearest town. It sounded absolutely perfect to me, and I was on the next bus out of town.
Expect the unexpected
Driving into town was like something out of an old movie – dusty, hot, rural, and deserted. There was no one around. I was picked up by a fellow backpacker who cheerily told me she’d been here for nearly a year and loved it. As we chatted, I felt like I’d finally made it somewhere I could call home for a while.
I happily set up my temporary home in a trailer at the back of the shop where I was to work. Slowly people started introducing themselves to me. In the span of a week, I felt like I’d lived here for years. The locals knew me by name, and the tourists passing through town would ask me for local information.
I never expected to have a social life, but I quickly became friends with a local who had lived in the remote north for many years, and we would chat aimlessly for hours about local history, fishing, politics of Australia, and life in the rural north. I stopped caring about what day of the week it was, and the highlight of my day was having a few beers at the only pub in town. I was happy and content.
But as with any backpacker, there always comes a time to move on, and I still had all of Western Australia to explore. I had also planned to meet up with a dear friend outside of Perth to do some WWOOFING.
Read the How-To’s of WWOOF’ing
Willing to work for food and accommodation
WWOOF is an international organization that pairs willing workers (wwoofer’s) with organic farmers. In exchange for work, the farmers will provide you with food and accommodation. Perfect for a backpacker who is looking to do something productive away from the hustle and bustle of a city.
In my case I was working on a biodynamic vineyard located in the picturesque Margaret River region of Western Australia. My hosts were a husband/wife entrepreneurial duo; two of the most delightful and hospitable people I’ve met, a cultural expectation of Australians. My hosts welcomed wwoofer’s into their circle of friends and family and made sure that we had a chance to get involved with as much as possible on the vineyard. I was also fortunate enough to be living and working with a friend I’d made in Sydney, so I instantaneously felt at home. Not to mention that a perk of working on a vineyard is the constant presence of wine, and some of the most beautiful beaches were just around the corner from our house. How idyllic!
Before I embarked on a year-long travel journey, I was a self-proclaimed career and city girl. However, the minute I started traveling around Australia, I realized how much I actually preferred the countryside to the concrete.
What makes my wwoofing experience so memorable and cherished is that my parents run a small horse farm, and in my pre-travel life, I never had to get involved. I lived about an hour away, and I flat out refused to help [read: I didn’t want to get dirty]. However, on the vineyard I happily tended to chickens, ducks, geese, cows, sheep, and horses. I would prune the growing vines for a few hours every day and learned how to re-roof a chicken coop, painted the roof of a new shed, and herded livestock from paddock to paddock. We only had a few cows escape in the rain. Once. Mistakes happen, but no animals – or humans – were harmed!
Wwoofing is a great way to do something different while on long-term travel because it is a great way to meet locals, gain invaluable experiences, and see parts of the country that are miles away from the usual tourist spots.
Before I embarked on a year-long travel journey, I was a self-proclaimed career and city girl. However, the minute I started traveling around Australia, I realized how much I actually preferred the countryside to the concrete. I thoroughly enjoyed living with less, working odd jobs, and being outdoors was much better for me than reducing the size of my Outlook inbox.
I knew that in leaving my comfort zones I would face challenges, but I never expected to gain so much confidence in one short year. I truly embrace the joy that travel brings into my life. By far the most rewarding and valued treasure I carry with me is my confidence to try new things, experience new opportunities, and welcome new friends into my life.
Read more inspirational travel stories from normal people who have made travel a top priority and check out resources to help you do the same:
- Confessions of a Lifestyle Traveler
- Getting Your Boots Dirty: How Volunteering in Africa Changed Me
- From Cubicle to Coffee Shop: How Living in Santiago, Chile Changed Me
- Why We Decided to Road Trip Across Europe in a Self-Built Campervan
- Travel Made me Who I Am Today
- How a Dog Walk Changed My Life Forever
- Why You Should Forgo the American Dream and Let Travel Transform Your Life
- Getting Outside The Box: One Family’s Journey to Full Time Travel
- Check out our RTW Traveler Profiles and fill one out yourself