From Wales to Oz: Learning to adapt to life in Australia!
When I first stepped off the plane in Australia, I thought the hardest thing to adapt to would be the heat. I was wrong.
Moving halfway across the world isn’t just about swapping climate and landscapes (Although these play a big role for me); it’s about a thousand little adjustments that you don’t think about until you’re living them every single day.
Here are some of the ones that caught me off guard…
1. Seasons Flipped Upside-Down
My first journey to Oz came in the form of a 10-week stint in October 2023. We were into Autumn, and heading into Winter back in Wales, so the weirdness hit me right away.
My brain still expects crisp air, woolly jumpers, and the smell of mince pies in a cold kitchen. Instead, it’s BBQs, beach trips, and trying not to get sunburnt in December. Christmas in summer? Bonkers.
Even after a couple of years, the seasonal shift still feels like someone’s playing a long-running practical joke, and I don't think Christmas will ever feel quite right here.
Yes, that's me dressed as Santa, wife on my knee. And yes, I was incredibly sweaty!
2. The Distances
In Wales, a two-hour drive feels like a road trip. In Australia, that’s just “popping over” to somewhere nearby. You don't just "pop down" to the corner shop in the same way you do in Wales. People don't walk at all in the suburbs unless it's for the activity of the walk itself. It's hard to explain, but it makes sense when you're here.
Honestly, the scale of this place still boggles my mind, and it’s something you never fully adapt to, you just learn to pack snacks and good music.
3. The Quest for Familiar Food
Ask any expat and they’ll tell you, the cravings for home can be intense. Proper bacon, a decent cup of tea, fish and chips, and of course, Welsh cakes.
As an example, in Wales, the chips taste like someone peeled, chopped, and fried a potato in oil that has been seasoned for decades. Here? The chips… they’re different. They taste more like they're factory processed, fried in lighter oil, sometimes with a faintly sweet note, and then they dust them in chicken salt. It’s tasty in its own right, but to a Welsh expat, it’s not fish and chips, it’s… something else entirely.
And I'm not complaining about the food in general, there's some bloody good tucker over here. But I learned quickly that if I wanted the tastes of home, I’d have to make them myself. That’s how Dragonstone Bakes became more than a business; it became my way of keeping a little piece of Wales alive.
My first oyster experience at The Little Rickshaw, Aldinga
4. The Cultural Pace & Conversation
Australians are famously laid-back, and I love that kind of lifestyle… most of the time. But as a Welsh person, I’m used to a certain briskness in conversation and a certain way of taking the mick out of each other or being sarcastic. Here, things are done at a gentler pace, and people generally aren't as "familiar" with each other. Sometimes it's refreshing, occasionally it's maddening. I've felt like a fool more than once when trying to lightheartedly banter with someone who just doesn't want to play that day.
They aren't intentionally being rude; it's just that the Welsh humour and banter doesn't always land, which can leave you feeling a bit flat.
5. The Weather Extremes
In Wales, “hot” means you might risk going out in just a t-shirt & shorts. In Australia, “hot” means checking the UV index before stepping outside in case your head spontaneously combusts or your thongs start melting into the pavement. (If you're wearing any)
It’s not just the heat either; the sudden downpours, the wild storms, and the bone-dry summers are a whole different rhythm from the steady drizzle I grew up with. When every day you wake up and just know it's going to be clear blue skies and 35°+ for 7 months, you seriously start missing the rain!
6. Missing the People and Places That Feel Like “Home”
What I miss most isn’t just the people (though I miss them dearly); it’s the feeling of familiarity. The way I know every bend and bump in the roads, the smell of the air after a Welsh downpour, and the green spaces and woodlands that I loved.
My best friend Poppy, the Shih Tzu I had to leave behind to come here. I still mourn that separation, but find comfort knowing that she is happy in her new life with a dear friend.
I think about impromptu coffee catch-ups with friends, Sunday roasts with family, and the comfort of knowing that if I call a friend, I can go and see them.
In Australia, it’s different. It's beautiful in its own way. Nature truly comes to life in the winter months, but the dry, brown landscape of summer feels so alien. The streets are quieter and less woven into my history.
The landscapes of Wales… well, they're something else entirely. Rolling green hills, rugged coastlines, and valleys where the light changes every few seconds. There’s a poetry to it that stays with you, no matter how far away you go.
Finding My Balance
Adapting to Australia has been a mix of joy, frustration, and discovery. I’ve fallen in love with parts of this country while holding tightly to the things that keep me grounded.
It’s the little rituals that help. A walk along the beachfront when I need to clear my head, finding new places that give me the same quiet comfort as familiar haunts back home, or simply sitting in the evening light and letting the day settle.
Home isn’t just a place on a map. It’s a feeling you carry with you. It's shaped by the people you love, the landscapes that shaped you, and the memories you keep adding to, wherever in the world you happen to be.