Just over a year ago, I touched down in Sydney, taking the second half of my second year at King’s abroad.
The semester abroad was something I had always known I wanted to do. In fact, it was one of the things that convinced me to choose King’s altogether, back when I was a lowly sixth former, tentatively navigating UCAS for the first time.
Still, it was only as the plane wheels left the ground at Heathrow that the concept of leaving fully sank in.
Since applying, it had been nothing more than an abstract thought that I continually put off processing. Buckled in at Row 50 and rapidly ascending into the air, however, this was it – I was really doing it.
Now, with some distance from my study abroad experience (situated in a cold and dreary London instead), I am ready to reflect.
Here is all the vital information that you need to know before you take the leap. I make no promises that I won’t enter into some classic ‘I-went-travelling-and-found-myself’ territory…
Mastering the application
The application window for a semester abroad will be opening soon, typically running from mid-March to mid-May. More information on application timelines can be found online, with the exact dates and advice for all of this year’s applications here. Any specific questions can be directed to the Global Mobility team via email at [email protected].
Generally, the strongest applications are the most specific. This is certainly what I was told throughout my application process, and is what I believe made my application successful.
Is there a particular scholar at your host university whose work you have read? Is your family heritage linked to your prospective country? Is there a particular sport, activity, or society unique to your host that you hope to get involved with?
The most successful applicants know their aspirational university and country inside out. Wherever you can, think of a link between you and your desired destination that no one else can lay claim to.
Save like crazy
King’s offers some great funding opportunities for eligible candidates, like the Broadening Horizons award, and financing available through the Turing scheme. Though these are a great support, you should not rely on them alone to get you through your semester abroad without going hungry.
You should not rely, either, on the hope of finding a job in your host city once you get there. Working can be highly restricted on some student visas and, in popular destinations, the job market is likely to be oversaturated.
I learnt this lesson the hard way, after the only job I was able to secure in Sydney (despite years of hospitality experience) was a leaflet posting position.
Having been paid a measly £25 for my first shift (spent trekking 20 kilometres through Australian suburbs in 27 degree heat), I decided, unsurprisingly, never to go back.
As someone who funded their semester abroad without any parental assistance, I am endlessly sympathetic to the daunting task of saving enough money for flights, accommodation, insurance, visas and all the rest of it whilst still studying.
Hard work as it may well be, however, the kindest thing you can do for your future self is save enough to live on, even if only for the first eight weeks of your trip.
There can be delays to the release of funding, so do not put yourself in a tight spot by stepping off the plane with only 50 Great British pounds and a dream to your name.
Do not lie to yourself, either, and say that you won’t eat out for dinner. You will, and honestly, you should. You may not be getting a fully-fledged experience of your new country without its cuisine.
Generally, you are going to want to live every day like it’s your last, so just make sure you have enough money to do so.
Push through the feeling of not wanting to go
Not wanting to go to Australia might sound like some kind of undiagnosed insanity.
Perhaps you are one of those unwaveringly adventurous, free-spirited people who wouldn’t think twice about moving to another country. You’ve probably washed an elephant in Thailand and buzzed about Vietnam on the back of a moped. We get it.
I, however, was not straightforwardly carefree when faced with five months on the other side of the world.
What with a combination of uncertainty, financial pressure, and fear of missing out on life with my family and friends back at home, a few months before it was time to jet off, I did not want to go to Sydney.
Luckily for me, I had the good sense to know that this was the opportunity of a lifetime. If you are not blessed with such strong powers of rationality, allow me to knock them into you myself. Do it, do it, do it!
If you truly want and are able to go, the anxiety leading up to your semester abroad will be nothing compared to the lifelong regret you are bound to feel if you talk yourself out of it.
It can be daunting, but just go through the motions, pack your bags, and as long as you go, you can cry all you like about leaving on the plane. Whack a sad song on and look out the window, at least it will feel highly cinematic.
You don’t have to be happy all the time
Throughout my first few weeks in Sydney (more homesick than I was willing to admit), I was not a very happy bunny.
I cried a lot. The reasons ranged from anything to everything: wanting to hug my boyfriend, wondering if I had made the right decision, regretting the less than favourable accommodation I had chosen to call home (I lived in a women’s hostel for five months. A bad and overcrowded one, at that.)
What made the crying worse was the subsequent guilt accompanying every tear – one would think that, whilst in Australia, it would be impossible (and ridiculous, even) to be sad. One would be wrong.
The roller-coaster of emotions that accompanies moving to a new place (and leaving everything you know behind) is not to be underestimated.
Thought you were messed up when you moved three hours away from your parents to go to King’s? That’s a gentle walk in the park compared to the twists, turns, and death-defying loops of moving to another country. Here, they probably don’t even have Yorkshire Tea and Cadbury’s chocolate to soften the blow.
Whatever you feel (fear, excitement, frustration, sadness), it’s important that you allow yourself to feel it.
Yes, this is an opportunity that not everyone is lucky enough to have, and you should grab it with both hands. However, you are entitled to your feelings. If you need an afternoon crying in bed, downing a pint of ice-cream and missing your Mom, that’s what you shall have.
Alternatively, if you are in a beachy location, take your sadness to the shores.
Lie out a towel and catch a tan while you wallow in self-pity – remember, behind an obnoxiously large pair of sunglasses, no one can see you cry. Bonus points if you can put on a teeny tiny bikini to provide extra distraction away from the tears rolling down your cheeks!
Your study abroad destination might not feel like “your place”
As a dedicated romanticiser of life, I did admittedly have some magical, mystical notion that, the second I stepped foot on Australian ground, Sydney and I would share a deep and meaningful connection, as if I was born to go there.
I half-expected, as I waded into Australian water for the first time, for the sea to part around me, contorting to offer me some sort of miraculous greeting, as if I was Moana herself, or perhaps Moses.
Blatantly exaggerated as that may be, I still longed to feel that Sydney was “my place”, and that we were fated. This was not immediately the case. I loved Sydney deeply, but if anything, moving away made me realise how much London is “my place”.
So no, much to my Dad’s relief, I didn’t feel the Earth move as if my ancestors were calling me back to my homeland, ultimately deciding that I just couldn’t bear to come back to England.
The point is, however, that this attachment did not need to exist for me to have the time of my life.
If, upon arrival in your new country, your soul’s very destiny rushes over you all at once, filling you with the certainty that you were just meant to go, good for you.
If this is not the case, do not panic! Regardless, you are going to have an amazing time, and not everywhere you travel can come out on top. I have enjoyed many a fun family day out in Weston-super-Mare, for example, but god forbid I ever ended up there permanently.
This is the time to try new things
Getting to know your host university well is not just a handy life-hack for the application process. It’s essential for uncovering everything they have to offer you.
There may be sports and activities at your new institution that are not available at King’s, or that you never would have thought to try.
The University of Sydney was certainly unique for its water sports offerings, and though I didn’t quite fancy myself a surfer chick, I had a good go at kayaking and loved it – a nice change considering you would never catch me paddling down the Thames.
I also – though slightly embarrassed to admit it – joined the ever-growing list of 20-somethings who get into running almost overnight.
There’s nothing quite like the stream of 6am Sydney early risers, running along the beach in waist-snatching running jackets and fluorescent Hokas, to peer pressure you into taking on your first park run. It’s a slippery slope from there, so who knows – your semester abroad could come home with you in the form of a new hobby.
Ultimately, never forget that you are in a new place where no one knows you. Consider the experience a completely clean slate that presents you with the opportunity to grow and reinvent yourself.
Keep a record of your time there
One thing I wish I had been better at was keeping a record of my time abroad.
Perhaps it’s just an indication that I was living in the moment, but the diary I took with me (intent on writing in it every day to look back on fondly for years to come) did not receive an entry post week two of my trip.
It could be a scrapbook or a photo album. You could make a private Instagram account and do weekly camera roll dumps. Whatever floats your boat, try to create a good memento of your time abroad.
For those writing in a diary, consider keeping it PG or creating some sort of private code, just in case your future grandchildren get their grubby little hands on it. Or don’t – it will be you that has to explain to them why Nanny self-identified as “being in her Hinge era”, not me.
You will never stop missing it. Ever. Seriously.
Though I am a young and relatively recent alumnus of the study abroad experience, having spoken to family friends who had similar opportunities in their early 20s, I can confirm that the grief never goes away.
For the first couple of weeks back on home soil, you will wake up and forget you’ve come back. Long after your return, you will still get tripped up and try to recommend a trendy location to a friend that is actually back in your host city.
Most devastatingly, there will be the absence in your life of the foods you ate all the time, that nothing back in the UK can ever live up to. I’m looking at you, Dimitri’s Pizzeria – never change, I’m coming back.
Consider it a privilege, though, to know another place so intimately that you will inevitably miss it forever. One day, someone you know is going to announce that they’re holidaying in your former home, and getting to pretentiously recommend all of your favourite places will make the heartache worth it.
