There’s a very specific kind of excitement that comes from stepping off a plane knowing you’re about to live on the opposite side of the world for more than a year. When I arrived in Australia in June 2023, the air felt different — warmer, brighter, and full of possibility. I’d been ready for a new challenge, but even then I didn’t realise just how much this year would reshape me.

I settled into life at Griffith University on the Gold Coast, diving straight into my first trimester of computer science courses. Perceptual Computing, Digital Forensics, Secure Development Operations, Human Computer Interaction — the kind of modules that make you feel like you’re actually building something meaningful. The coursework was tough, but in the best way. I relished it. It felt like stretching muscles I didn’t know I had.

Outside the classroom, I was eager to meet people and throw myself into new experiences. That’s how I ended up joining Serotonin A Cappella, a group that would become one of the defining communities of my year. I’d always sung classical and choral music — sheet music in hand, everything structured and precise. Serotonin flipped that on its head. Jazzy harmonies, choreography, and absolutely no sheet music after week one. It was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.

And because I apparently wasn’t busy enough, I also joined Hockey Burleigh, playing with the men’s 4s. I even found myself in a 5‑a‑side tournament surrounded by Queensland State players — a level of competition that made me question every life choice that led me onto that pitch. But it pushed me, and I loved that.

A Chance Email That Changed Everything

One of the biggest turning points came in November. On a whim, I emailed St John’s Cathedral in Brisbane to ask whether they ever needed singers. I expected a polite “We’ll keep your details on file.” Instead, I was offered a job almost immediately.

I remember reading the email twice, then a third time, wondering if they’d mistaken me for someone else. But no — they wanted me. And within weeks, I was singing every weekend: Sunday mornings, Sunday evenings, and everything in between.

Christmas at an Anglican cathedral is always busy, but Christmas at an Anglican cathedral in 30‑degree heat is something else entirely. Singing carols while sweating through cassock and surplice is an experience I’ll never forget. It was whacky, wonderful, and one of the most unexpectedly joyful parts of my year.

During this period, I also spent time living in Brisbane, splitting my life between the Gold Coast campus and the cathedral choir. It made the year feel even richer — like I was living multiple versions of myself at once.

A Second Semester of Surprises

Trimester two brought a completely different academic flavour: Innovation, Creativity and Entrepreneurship; International Relations; Programming Principles; Computer Systems and Networks. A mix of technical, creative, and global perspectives that kept me on my toes.

By the end of my studies in February 2024, I’d achieved a 5.58 GPA on the 1–7 Australian scale — something I was genuinely proud of. My student visa ended in March, but I wasn’t ready to leave. Not even close.

So I did what any sensible person would do: I hopped over to New Zealand for two weeks.

I visited relatives, explored the South Island. The scenery was breath-taking, the wildlife surreal, and the museums deeply moving. It was the perfect reset before returning to Australia on a Working Holiday Visa — just in time for the cathedral’s busy Easter season.

Queensland, Campervans, and the Mystery Machine

Re-joining Serotonin after Easter led to another highlight: competing in the Queensland Eisteddfod, where we won first place. The energy, the teamwork, the sheer joy of performing — it was electric.

After that, I took some time to explore Queensland properly. I travelled north by train, stopping in Bundaberg (where I sampled their famous rum), Rockhampton, and Airlie Beach. Then I headed back south in a Mystery Machine‑themed campervan, which is exactly as chaotic and brilliant as it sounds.

Across Australia: Cities, Mountains, and a Town Called Penguin

After Queensland, I kept moving — partly because Australia is enormous, and partly because I realised how rare it is to have this kind of freedom. First stop: Sydney. I did all the classic things, of course — the Harbour Bridge, the Opera House, the ferries — but the real highlight was going to see two operas. Sitting in that iconic building, listening to world‑class performers, felt like a full‑circle moment after months of singing myself.

From there, I headed into the Blue Mountains National Park, where the scenery looked like it had been painted with impossible colours. Deep valleys, towering cliffs, eucalyptus haze — it was the kind of place that makes you stop talking and just breathe.

Then came Canberra, Melbourne, and finally Tasmania, which deserves its own paragraph. I spent two weeks there, exploring places like Penguin (yes, that’s really the name), Hobart, and Port Arthur. Tasmania felt different — quieter, older, full of stories. Port Arthur in particular was haunting and beautiful, a place where history sits heavily in the air.

My final Australian stop was Adelaide, where I visited an old school friend. There’s something grounding about seeing a familiar face on the far side of the world. It reminded me that even when life feels like a whirlwind, some connections stay steady.

A Farewell Worth Singing About

Eventually, the year began to wind down. I returned to Brisbane for a farewell party — a singsong that brought together friends from Serotonin and the cathedral choir. It was one of those nights where everyone is relaxed, happy, and slightly sentimental, knowing something special is coming to an end.

We sang, we laughed, and for a moment it felt like the whole year existed in that room — the music, the friendships, the challenges, the surprises. Saying goodbye was sad, of course, but it was also filled with gratitude. I knew I was heading back to start my final year at university, and I felt ready for it.

What This Year Meant to Me

Looking back now, my year abroad feels like a mosaic — study, music, sport, travel, friendships — all fitting together into something bigger than the sum of its parts. I’d always been fascinated by Australia, but living there gave me something deeper: a sense of independence, confidence, and connection.

I learned that I can adapt to new environments quickly. That I thrive when I’m challenged. That I’m happiest when I’m surrounded by communities — choirs, teams, classmates — who lift each other up. And I learned that the world is full of people who are far kinder and more generous than we often expect. The number of lifts, offers of help, and acts of hospitality I received was genuinely humbling.

If there’s one message I’d want readers to take away, it’s this: Say yes to the opportunities that scare you a little. They’re usually the ones that change you the most.

Closing Thoughts

My 2023–24 year abroad wasn’t just a study exchange — it was a chapter of my life that expanded everything: my skills, my worldview, my friendships, my confidence. I arrived in Australia ready for a challenge. I left with memories, stories, and connections that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

And honestly? I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.