The Australian Dream? There’s a dark side to moving down under

Tens of thousands of young Brits move to Oz every year on a working holiday visa (Getty)
Tens of thousands of young Brits move to Oz every year on a working holiday visa (Getty)

There are suitcases, and then there are moving-to-Australia-forever-suitcases, as a quick scan around Heathrow’s Terminal 3 reveals. Every morning at 11.50am, the Qantas QF10 – the only direct flight from Britain to Australia – soars towards sunnier climes without stopping for a single slurp of kerosene. It carries 236 passengers plus a cargo hold loaded with gargantuan luggage and petrified pets. And, around 16 hours later, it will land in Perth, having whizzed 9,009 miles around the world. The Dreamliner, as the plane is branded, holds the promise of a one-way ticket to a dream life.

Since its first flight in 2018, the service has carried around 500,000 passengers to the land of pristine beaches, Neighbours and Tim Tams. Elsewhere, jets head from the UK’s other major airports to the likes of Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane (after pit-stops in Singapore, Hong Kong and Dubai) every week.

Many of those on board are young Brits heading to Oz for the long run. In 2024, nearly 50,000 people moved from the UK to Australia via a working holiday visa, up by 31,000 from the previous year. This increase has partly been fuelled by a new free trade deal: the maximum age was raised from 30 to 35, the mandatory 88 days of gruelling graft on a rural farm was scrapped, and now young Brits can live in Australia for up to three years without having to meet any specified work requirements. Others are travelling for a long holiday or backpacking adventure, rather than making a more permanent move; 590,000 people from the UK enjoyed a vacay down under last year.

But why are so many young Brits going the distance, aside from it being easier? For just over 50 per cent of visitors, it’s to see friends and family; more than 1.2 million Brits now live in Australia. For the rest, it’s often about chasing a dream – Australia is seen as the land of eternal sunshine and near-horizontal levels of laidback living, where affluence goes hand-in-hand with nonchalance.

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“On paper, Australia is the perfect place,” says Antonia, a 29-year-old midwife who moved from Manchester to the east coast of Oz nearly a year ago. “It has good weather, it has nice people, it has good infrastructure, a good healthcare system, lots of job opportunities – and it’s beautiful.” The quality of life is indeed enviable, with the average wage equivalent to around £50,000 (compared to under £37,000 in the UK), a genuinely world-beating healthcare system and 3,000 hours of sunshine a year. And while you’re still likely to be called a “Pom” by some jibing Aussies, most have a positive perception of Brits; according to the Lowy Institute’s most recent “feelings thermometer” poll, Australians rank the UK third from the top in their perception of other nations.

And, with many Brits wanting an escape, it’s pretty much the furthest you can physically go (unless you double down and head to Dunedin in New Zealand). “The UK was just so s***, with inflation and the move to far-right politics, I think people were just a bit done … Australia was a good answer to that,” says Izzy, a 29-year-old teacher who lived in Brisbane for a year and is now travelling across NZ.

Plenty of Brits make the move and never look back. James, a 29-year-old publicist, says he’s a “huge fan. The geography, animals and plants are totally unique. The warm weather also influences everything; Aussies love to spend time outdoors and take part in sport or surf or swim. It’s also easy to get a working visa so you get the opportunity to live here, rather than just visit.” Izzy agrees: “They do work/life balance incredibly well, it’s amazing.”

Brits aged 35 and under can move down under for three years (Getty)
Brits aged 35 and under can move down under for three years (Getty)

But if moving to Australia is like Vegemite, then some people inevitably don’t love it. Though painted as the land of perpetual beach barbecues and perfect weather, the Australian Dream can wind up being nothing more than an illusion.

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In the same way that some tourists experience Paris Syndrome – a feeling of malaise when the French capital doesn’t live up to its elevated expectations – some young Brits seem to be experiencing the Aussie equivalent. Perth Syndrome, if you will. Among the glossy, picture-postcard dispatches from Australia are videos on TikTok “deinfluencing” prospective movers, warning them of its potential downsides.

So why are some Brits experiencing flyer’s remorse? Lyle, a 27-year-old history teacher who moved from Dorset to Melbourne, thinks that some people’s view of the country is too airbrushed. “The idea that you’re surfing all the time and it’s a constant beach party is a mirage,” he says. “I think solo younger travellers with less money and work experience definitely have a bigger comedown to the reality of finding work in an expensive country, when the first month of partying is done.”

Izzy, meanwhile, was surprised by the culture shock. “I think I expected just the UK and the sun; I thought culturally they’d be very similar. And they're really not. It's very American,” she says, lamenting that everything is a long drive away. “It takes literally days to get anywhere,” Antonia agrees.

There’s a common sentiment among Brits that culture in Oz is more “polished” – and not necessarily in a good way. “I felt like everything was a bit surface level and I missed the grit,” says Antonia. And you’re more likely to surf than crowdsurf; sport beats the arts, any day. “In the UK, we are so spoiled with our music scene,” she adds. “But we really missed that in Australia. One of the biggest festivals was even cancelled because they couldn’t sell enough tickets.” While Australia has produced the likes of Confidence Man, Tame Impala and Courtney Barnett, its domestic scene is struggling; since Covid, more than 1,300 live music venues have shuttered.

I did feel my Blackness a lot more in Australia than I ever have in the UK

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Antonia, 29

Then there’s the politics. Peter Dutton, the current Leader of the opposition, is in serious election contention this year; he has recently praised Trump and taken aim at “wokeness”. This right-wing spirit seems to be on the rise. “In the UK, we have such a huge diversity of people and a really multicultural environment, and I think we take that for granted as something that’s just inevitable,” says Antonia. “But when you go to Australia, you don’t have that at all. And I did feel my Blackness a lot more in Australia than I ever have in the UK.”

There are many stories of unsettlingly jingoistic comments. “Especially in rural areas, the politics was way more conservative and a bit weirdly obsessed with ‘white British heritage’,” Lyle says.

“We did an open bus tour in Sydney, and the fact that the central business district sewage pipe had been built on a sacred Aboriginal river was just mentioned in passing,” Antonia notes. Izzy adds: “It was really divided in terms of how people spoke about Aboriginal people. You even had people make negative comments about immigrants coming into the UK.”

Perhaps these drawbacks are why many young Australians are heading in the opposite direction: to the UK. Around 87,000 Australians now live in Britain, likely contributing to the many Antipodean brunch spots smashing it in London (Clapham has become known as “Little Australia” thanks to its many expats).

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Anna, a 30-year-old working in marketing, moved from Sydney to London five years ago. “The UK really feels like my home,” she says. “I love living seasonally; for me, the four distinct seasons help mark the passing of time in a different way. I love the proximity to Europe, abundance of different cultures, historical architecture and the landscape.”

The idea that you’re surfing all the time is a ‘mirage’, says one expat (Getty)
The idea that you’re surfing all the time is a ‘mirage’, says one expat (Getty)

She also understands the perspective of disillusioned young Brits. “In the Nineties and Noughties, we were really sold this idea of the Australian Dream. We grew up with this firmly embedded phrase that we are ‘the lucky country’. Of course, like all national myths, ‘the lucky country’ is deeply subjective.” She explains that the easy-going culture can “sweep difficult conversations or hard truths under the rug” and that the “scars of colonisation” run deeply in Australia. “I was particularly affected by the outcome of Australia’s 2023 referendum, where the majority of voters chose not to allow First Nations people recognition in the Australian constitution,” she says. “It felt like a regression and a sign that the nation still wasn't willing to face the realities of its past and present.”

Of course, it would be rich of us Brits to throw shade Australia’s way. Britain faces myriad political issues of its own, with Reform on the rise and far-right violence at boiling point. Plus, we’re arguably no better than Australia when it comes to acknowledging our colonialism; our history curriculum is equally censored (and, of course, Britain itself colonised Australia and still claims monarchical rule).

But, at least for some young Brits, the idealist vision doesn’t materialise and moving to Australia fosters a feeling of regret – it’s a dream that fades in the sun or goes flat like a warm schooner. “I think it’s as complex as anywhere,” says Anna. “To treat Australia like a utopia is to gloss over the realities of the place. Any young person going down there has to educate themselves on the history of the country, and respect the land and its traditional custodians.” Perhaps, whichever way you move, there’s a risk of the grass being greener on the other side.

For many emigrants, that one-way flight to Australia may end up being one of the best decisions they ever make, their life changing as soon as the Dreamliner hits the tarmac on the other side of the globe. For others, booking a round trip – at least for a first visit – might be just the ticket. “It took me leaving the UK to realise how much it meant to me, and how much friends and family mean to me,” Izzy says. “Taking that flight made me realise exactly how far away it was. It felt like I had left my soul behind.”