WHY I DECIDED TO GO HOME AFTER 9 MONTHS OF TRAVEL

No one in their right mind would choose to go home after weeks, months or even years of travelling unless they absolutely had to. I guess the most common reasons for going home are a) you've run out of money or b) your visa has run out or you have commitments at home like a job to go back to. Yes it's normal to get homesick and it can make you want to go home, but usually backpackers tend to stick it out and the pulls from home ease with time. So why did I decide to go home when I didn't have to?

My Australian working holiday visa was still valid for another 7 months, I had no time constrictions, plenty of money in the bank, plenty of friends and it was easy peasy to find a job. A few of my friends couldn't understand why I wanted to go home when I was in a better situation than most, but the truth is... I was fed up.

I'll start from the beginning. My first 4 months of travelling were amazing. My savings took me to Thailand, Vietnam, Bali, the Australian outback and New Zealand and aside from giving up my time to do a bit of volunteering, my time was completely my own and I had no commitments whatsoever. It was 4 months straight of partying, exploring and meeting new friends. IT. WAS. WILD.

Of course all of this partying comes at a price and in 4 months I'd spent around 70% of my savings. I had enough money to continue travelling but I knew it wouldn't last long and I was nowhere near ready to go home, so I decided to get a working holiday visa for Australia. After 4 months of enjoying myself I was more than ready to slow down and commit to working full time - that was until I ended up living and working at a hostel.

For the first 2 months things were great. I met a guy (who just so happened to be a party animal and a big drinker) and before I knew it a huge group of us were going out every night and I was so content being smitten that work became less and less of a priority. I even called in sick one day cause I'd been invited on a road trip to the Great Ocean Road, and there was another occasion where I had an interview for an amazing office job but decided to turn up smashed because I'd drank too much the night before. As irresponsible as that was, I don't regret any of my decisions because those first 2 months in Melbourne were so much fun - which at the end of the day is the most important thing.

When I finally decided to get my act together and dedicated myself to working as many hours as physically possible, that's when everything started to go downhill. I'll talk more about my job situation in another post, but at one point I was working 3 jobs and basically ended up running myself into the ground. I wasn't getting a lot of sleep, I wasn't partying as much or having as much fun and getting treated like shit at one of my jobs was slowly taking its toll on me. Over time I noticed my mood was changing and it basically got to the point where I couldn't pull myself out of it. I eventually quit one of my jobs so I had more time to enjoy myself and to see if it would improve my mood, but the damage had already been done.

A period of transition was also taking place at the hostel I'd lived and worked at for 4 months, which definitely played a factor in why my mood was so low. The hostel used to go through 'waves' of new guests and new employees every few months as people would inevitably leave to move into flats or move to a new city/country. When I first started working there, they had just taken on an influx of new staff after the last lot had left (including the guy I was seeing) so we all bonded and formed an instant friendship group that lasted a good few months. But when everyone slowly started to leave, the whole mood of the hostel changed and it stopped being as fun and exciting as it once was. Dare I say... it became boring. We knew there would be an influx of newbies soon, but as my mood was already low from everything else that was happening, I knew I needed a fresh start so decided to move to Brisbane.

Turns out, Brisbane didn't make me happy either. If anything, it made me even more miserable. There aren't as many job opportunities in Brisbane because there isn't much of a backpacker scene and it's a smaller city compared to Sydney and Melbourne. So although I found it easy to get a job in hospitality (2 in fact, although the hours were ridiculously low), that wasn't what I wanted at the time. I was dying for an office job that paid well and would give me a stable routine with my evenings and weekends free, but it was honestly impossible. I didn't leave 3 jobs in hospitality with good hours to work another hospitality job with rubbish hours.

Me and my friend Russell (who I moved there with) also found it hard to make friends because Brisbane isn't really a place where backpackers stay long term - it's more of a stop gap between popular destinations like Byron Bay and Fraser Island. I knew this before I moved there, but I guess I thought I'd get a full time job quite quickly so I could move into a flat with either long term backpackers or Aussies. Because that didn't happen, I was forced to live in a hostel with a bunch of guys who were never there and a bar that never seemed to be full. It was certainly different to the party hostel I was used to back in Melbourne where it was easy peasy to make friends. It probably didn't help that I moved to Brisbane with a friend (who already had a full time job secured) because 1) he was always at work so I spent a lot of time on my own and 2) because I knew I had my friend there for back up, it made me more anti-social and less bothered about making friends of my own. So what happened? I spent most of my days feeling extremely lonely but unable to drag myself out of my room to make friends. Seeing snapchats of my friends back in Melbourne having a great time made me feel ever worse and I started to really miss them.

After numerous phone calls home and plenty of tears, I decided that Brisbane wasn't for me and there was no point sticking it out just for the sake of it. But that was when my dilemma unfolded... did I really want to go back to Melbourne? I mean, I wasn't happy there either and a lot had changed at the hostel since I'd been away. It felt like my friends had moved on. Melbourne will always feel like my second home, but part of me knew it would be different second time round and I knew I wouldn't like it. The thought of moving to Sydney or Perth didn't really appeal to me either and eventually I realised what the issue was.

I was kinda over Australia.

It didn't excite me anymore. 

I was bored of working rubbish jobs and didn't see the point in staying somewhere that wasn't necessarily making me happy anymore. My mum and dad kept repeating the same sentence: "If you aren't happy, just come home." At first I wouldn't listen - going home felt like giving up and I'm not someone who gives up when the going gets tough. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that I had been away for a bloody long time and it has to come to an end at some point - so maybe the 9 month mark was the right time? After all, I never set out to go to Australia on a Working Holiday Visa like a lot of people I knew did - I went away to travel. To visit different countries and experience different things. I couldn't compare my intentions with others as everyone was out there for different reasons. So yes there were people who couldn't understand why I was leaving when I still had 7 months validity left on my visa, but I knew what I left the UK for and it wasn't to set up a new life down under. In fact, the only reason I came straight home instead of continuing to travel was because of the weather in the countries I wanted to visit. I could have flown to Japan or China or the US if I wanted to, but I had my heart set on going when the weather was lovely and warm so decided to be patient instead of compromising on the experience I wanted.

So it was decided. I would spend Christmas in Byron Bay and New Year in Sydney before flying back to Melbourne for my birthday where I booked my flight home. As I predicted, everything at the hostel in Melbourne had completely changed and if I'm honest, I really didn't enjoy it. Luckily I only spent a night there before moving in to my friend's apartment, which gave me the opportunity to spend my last week exploring parts of the city I hadn't seen before and generally just staying away from the drama. Being back at the hostel, even on just a few occasions, assured me that I was making the right decision by going home and shutting the door on that chapter of my life. I wanted to leave on a high remembering the amazing time I had there with the people that shared the same experience as me, and I knew that if I stayed (with a group of people I didn't know and feeling completely out of the loop) I wouldn't remember it as fondly. Sometimes you just know when to call it a day, which is why a lot of people who arrived the same time as me all left around the same time too.

So that's why I decided to go home after 9 months of travel. Did I make the right decision? I think so. You're never fully going to know if you made the right choice in life, but right now I'm happy being home and slowly but surely my mindset is changing to a whole different way of thinking compared to when I was away. But that's for another blog post haha!

If you made it to the end - congrats!

Sorry it was a long one x