It was Christmas, 1989. The whole family had gathered around the dinner table in New Zealand, and for the first time in years, my cousin who had been living in Australia was back home for a two-week holiday. There was something special in the air. Maybe it was the season, maybe it was the rare chance to have everyone together again, swapping stories, laughing, and comparing notes on life across the Tasman.
As we chatted about the Aussie lifestyle, the opportunities, the sun-soaked weekends I found myself unusually quiet, just listening. Something about it stirred a restlessness in me. My cousin spoke about life with such ease and possibility, and I couldn’t help but wonder, Was I too comfortable? Had I stopped challenging myself?
That evening, something shifted, I remember looking around the table, feeling both the warmth of family and the tug of curiosity. Was it time to shake things up? To take a few risks? Maybe even start fresh somewhere new?
After mulling it over for a few days, I finally just thought, “Bugger it.” That was it, I made up my mind.
I was going to move to Australia !!
At the time, I’d been working for Telecom NZ in Whangarei for a little over seven years, I had a house in Whangarei, a pretty comfortable routine, and a steady job. But something in me was itching for a change. So, I walked into work one day, handed in my two weeks notice, and that was that.
From there, things moved quickly. I started getting my life sorted, wrapping up loose ends, making plans, and preparing myself for the next big chapter. It was equal parts exciting and terrifying, but deep down, I knew it was the right move.
With nothing but a one-way ticket to Perth, Australia and butterflies in my stomach, I boarded a plane for the very first time in my life. As the plane descended toward Perth Airport, it hit me, this was real. I had actually made it.
Waiting for me at the airport was my cousin, and over the next few weeks, I dove headfirst into exploring the Perth city and its stunning surroundings. From the beaches to the bushland, I soaked up everything the Aussie lifestyle had to offer, But after a few weeks of adventure and relaxation, reality kicked in. I knew I needed to find work, or things could unravel pretty fast.
Thankfully, I had over seven years of experience working for Telecom back in New Zealand, so I figured that had to count for something. I started making phone calls to a few telecom companies around Perth, hoping someone would give me a shot.
Eventually, one of them invited me in for a formal interview. It was a Thursday afternoon and before I could even say, “Cheers mate,” I had a job offer and I was starting work the following Monday.
Work was good real good, plenty of banter, and the occasional Aussie trying to convince me that Vegemite was a delicacy (bless' em for trying). The crew I worked with was a mix of Kiwis and Aussie's, and if you’ve ever been caught in the middle of that trans-Tasman rivalry, you’ll know it’s like a never ending game of who can out banter who.
We gave each other heaps, “Hey bro, You blokes, I even asked a few Aussie's, “Do You know what a real beer tastes like?” And so it went on, day in, day out. Work sure didn't feel like hard yakka. More like a working holiday with a bit of pay on the side.
But even with all the jokes and good times, I’d ring home now and then and have a yarn with Dad. He was still doing the hard yards back on the dairy farm, up at sparrow’s fart, milking cows, rain or shine. While I was cracking open a cold one with the boys after a cruisy day, he was neck deep in mud and milking cows. That started to hit home.
Slowly, I realised the farm wasn’t just calling it was practically shouting my name. The easygoing days overseas were amazing, no doubt about it, but something inside me started saying it was time to get back home, time to roll up the sleeves and help out where it really mattered on the farm with Dad again.
Looking back on that chapter of my life, I reckon those years gave me some of the best memories I’ll ever have. There were laughs, lessons, and a fair bit of growing up tucked in between the banter and BBQ's. And even though the boots are a bit muddier these days, I wouldn’t trade those memories or the mates I made for anything.
That Christmas back in 1989 didn’t just bring gifts and good food it planted a seed. And looking back, I think that was the moment I realized life only changes when you dare to imagine something different.
