Describing 2020 as a year of uncertainty and transformation would be an understatement.
On a global level, we faced challenges not only from Covid-19 but also the cascading effects of severe economic recessions, devastating Australian bushfires, the Black Lives Matter movement, and the closure of numerous industries that sustain thousands of livelihoods. Beneath it all lies a pervasive feeling of uncertainty about the future.
So, what better time to make bold life decisions, right?
Nothing in our lives this year has unfolded as we expected.
Amid months of uncertainty, visa anxiety, and an unexpected but joyful pregnancy, everything has shifted in ways I could never have imagined… we’re moving back to Australia.
Newcastle’s ANZAC Walk, February 2020
‘The Plan’ for 2020. Ha. Haha.
Personally, I entered 2020 with a strong determination to expand my business through this blog, focusing on local, responsible, slow travel in Austria and Vienna. I had plans to host retreats and walking tours to support my community and local businesses, all while diversifying my income streams.
I was both excited and a bit apprehensive about becoming fully self-employed. I felt ready to take on the challenge after years of experience.
But first, I was set to take a quick trip back to Australia in February to visit family, celebrate my Mum’s 60th birthday, and escape the winter gloom in Europe.
Treasure the priceless moments and memories…but maybe not this one…
During our trip, we heard the first murmurs of Covid-19, catching radio reports about the escalating situation in Wuhan. We briefly witnessed the immediate aftermath—like a fishing trawler in Hobart, Tasmania, overfilled with fresh lobster selling for a mere $60 AUD each.
When Stefan spoke to the fisherman, he explained that his catch was usually sold exclusively to Chinese markets for a much higher price. But after four weeks at sea, his entire order was canceled, leaving him with an overwhelming surplus of lobster that he desperately needed to sell.
These whispers of dramatic change were merely the beginning, although we were unaware of it at that time.
We continued our travels, enjoying brunches in Melbourne, an overnight train ride to Sydney, a day at Manly Beach, and a pivotal visit to a small coastal town about 2.5 hours north of Sydney—Newcastle, NSW.
Within three hours of our arrival, while at the ocean pools, Stefan turned to me as the sun set along the coastline and whispered, “We could live here.” I smiled and laughed in a ‘yeah right’ kind of way, imagining the beach lifestyle with daily swims and great coffee.
But I knew he was serious two days later when he brought out a spreadsheet comparing living costs!
Could definitely get used to breakfast by the beach!
Wait, why Newcastle? Why not move back to Melbourne?
Here’s some important context for this seemingly spontaneous decision!
Our apartment lease in Vienna is set to expire in March 2021. We had been casually searching for a new apartment in Vienna for months, only to find that new prices were double our current rent for an equivalent size and location. In comparison, Newcastle offered the opportunity to secure the same size or even larger apartment at a beachfront location, often at slightly lower rates. Thank you, spreadsheet comparison!
Moreover, Newcastle (or ‘Newie’ as the locals affectionately call it) is right next to the ocean. I’m talking about full-on Home-and-Away vibes with rolling surf and beautiful beach baths.
View this post on Instagram
A post shared by City of Newcastle (@citynewcastle.au) on Oct 24, 2020 at 12:05pm PDT
Stefan’s chronic eczema had only worsened despite numerous dietary, medical, and topical treatments. The prospect of treating it daily with saltwater swims was a significant factor in our decision.
Atopic dermatitis is a chronic condition that not only inflicts painful physical symptoms but also greatly impacts his mental health. Both of us have been managing this issue throughout our relationship, and it dictates many aspects of his lifestyle.
Honestly, witnessing his suffering for years made the thought of moving to be near the beach something we had to try, given even a slight chance it could help.
Because, as this year has repeatedly shown, nothing is more important than your health.
Now don’t get me wrong, the idea of moving was just as shocking to me as it is to anyone reading this.
I love Vienna.
View this post on Instagram
G’morning 😊 #schonbrunnpalace #autumninvienna #visitvienna #igersvienna #slowcityliving #slowtraveler #igersviennaclassics #sunrisemornings #autumnmornings🍂🍁
A post shared by Carly| AustrianAdaptation (@carlyhulls) on Oct 26, 2020 at 1:53am PDT
I love our life here, our community, our Grätzl, our friends, my professional network, and the joy of living in the heart of Europe.
I cherish the ability to hop on a train to Tirol or Graz, ski in the winter, and crunch through leaves in October. I mean, if you’ve read this blog, you already know how I feel about it.
I’m practically Vienna’s #1 fan, and the thought of departing from it all was heart-wrenching and shocking, like a sudden hit on a February morning.
Additionally, after eight years together in Vienna, we never envisioned building our life in Australia. It always seemed too expensive to live in Melbourne, especially when compared to the more relaxed lifestyle in Vienna.
But Newcastle…
‘Newie’ is north of Sydney, a Smart City with a burgeoning startup scene, ideally located on the East Coast tourism trail, with access to the Hunter Valley wineries. It’s youthful, affordable, and accessible for two self-employed individuals looking to rent a place.
So, the seed of this idea was planted in February. We returned to Vienna in the fading days of winter, mask-free, even joking with friends about the virus’s impact upon our return, which seems absurd in hindsight.
Two weeks later, Austria went into hard lockdown and everything changed in the world.
Read my Lockdown Letters from that time here.
How We Went About Deciding for Real
Beyond a surprisingly detailed spreadsheet, there were logistical hurdles we needed to navigate before jumping into this move to Australia. The idea still felt like a ‘fairytale dream,’ and I wasn’t sure we could actually pull it off.
Especially in the midst of a global pandemic.
First – Visas. Stefan needed to apply for an Australian Partner Visa, and I was in the process of renewing my Austrian visa, which turned out to be a painfully lengthy ordeal that took six months…
Next, work and income.
As a self-employed individual, I had a few Austrian clients, and my brand was built on being an expert in Vienna and Austria. So, relocating was a bit awkward.
Once Covid struck, the tourism industry collapsed, and my dreams of Vienna walking tours and retreats became distant. Every plan I had shifted. The city transformed, and the networking opportunities I had relied upon vanished. Location became less significant in the face of such change.
Like many others in tourism and hospitality, my career was at stake. A pivot was imperative, irrespective of whether we were in Austria or elsewhere.
As for Stefan—bless the software sales professionals.
He was employed by a fantastic startup based in Silicon Valley, with no offices and a fully remote workforce. When he presented his idea of relocating to Australia for health reasons, his employers replied, “Nothing is more important than that. Do what you need to do.” To say we were fortunate would be an understatement, especially considering how many others are currently struggling.
So we had at least one secure job and a shot at the visa, but the only remaining hurdle was…
Could we even get into Australia during a pandemic?
Months of Uncertainty & Anxiety
By the time we confirmed those details in mid-summer, it became increasingly probable that I would need to book a shipping container for our belongings. Australia suddenly introduced flight caps and a quarantine system.
This incredibly strict, limited entry program was intended to control and quarantine all arrivals. It resulted in thousands of Australians being stranded abroad, flights being canceled, only business class tickets being available, and families left living in airports in a desperate attempt to return home.
Almost 30,000 #strandedAussies have been abandoned overseas.
It’s time to send @ScottMorrisonMP a message- bring them home.
Sign the petition 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻https://t.co/dYatM0DZdj
— Kristina Keneally (@KKeneally) September 30, 2020
If you’ve followed my Twitter or Instagram lately, you’ve seen my frustration regarding this situation. Not for us, personally—we’re privileged and would be fine. But my heart aches for the thousands of Australian citizens stranded worldwide, in places like Beirut, India, and the UK, abandoned by the Morrison government. (Read more about this and please support the petitions!)
The reality was we had no assurance of whether we could even board a flight to Australia. We booked our tickets in good faith, at an extortionate triple the typical price for economy seats, and crossed our fingers.
Oh, and somewhere in this whirlwind, I discovered I was pregnant.
View this post on Instagram
Like everything in 2020, lockdown brought us a ‘lil surprise gift we weren’t expecting! 👶😊 Due February 2021 💜💜 📸 by a v patient @k_laino 😘
A post shared by Carly| AustrianAdaptation (@carlyhulls) on Oct 20, 2020 at 10:55pm PDT
Thus, the urgency intensified to decide whether to stay or leave. If we didn’t manage to board a plane by late November, we’d be unable to leave before the baby’s arrival. Acceptable, sure, but knowing we could be stuck in Austria for another 12 months felt daunting. Stefan’s country-boy instincts were already restless after ten years in Vienna, and I had spent considerable time preparing myself to say goodbye to my favorite city.
To say the last six months of uncertainty have been emotionally exhausting would be quite the understatement.
We made plans, yet each was overshadowed by the nagging thought, ‘what if we can’t catch the flight?’
We envisioned our new apartment, but it always felt like a whimsical fantasy.
We booked the shipping container, packed, and sold our belongings, but the potential of unpacking again in Kufstein, not Australia, loomed large.
Every time friends inquired about our plans, we had to respond with vague answers, as neither they nor we knew what would happen.
It was six months of existing in limbo, grappling with uncertainty amid the broader anxiety surrounding Covid and job security…. it was a lot.
We essentially decided to proceed with planning as though we would board the flight, while also devising a backup plan in case we didn’t make it.
Step by step, we reached out to the Australian Embassy, the airline, and anyone we knew who had recently traveled in or out of Australia. We did everything we could to ensure we could board a flight.
Meanwhile, I took the time to savor a heartfelt farewell to my favorite spots in Vienna, cherishing short trips to Tirol and Graz in summer, and trying to wrap my head around whether we were truly going to undertake this wild adventure.
You already know where we went most often, right?
Publishing the Slow Travel Guide to Vienna during this major transition was crucial for me, as I wanted to compile my eight years of love and expertise on the city into one resource for others to enjoy!
Looking back, I’m not quite sure how we managed to navigate the uncertainty of the last six months. It felt as though I had one foot in the present and one in a very uncertain future.
I experienced days filled with despair, where nothing felt stable. My job, blog work, and even my identity as the ‘Aussie in Austria’ were all being upended, and now I was also about to become a parent?!
2020 was quite the rollercoaster.
However, rather than succumbing to panic and despair, I realized that substantial upheavals and transitions can also present significant opportunities if you embrace them. (I found motivation in a talk by the amazing Lola Akinmade Akerström during those times!)
Of course, I had my share of moments indulging in ice cream while aimlessly scrolling through social media, but being an eternal optimist and having a supportive circle of friends and blogging buddies, we somehow emerged from the chaos on the other side.
So, did we make it?
Last Sunday, as I was blubbering and teary for most of the morning, we packed the final bits of our luggage (the shipping container service had already transported most of our belongings) and locked the door to our Vienna apartment in a lovely corner of the 14th district, possibly for the last time.
The drive to the airport was surreal as we waited to check in. I felt numb—we had done everything possible to ensure we boarded the flight; now, it was all in the hands of the airline and the Australian government.
Stefan had his valid tourist visa from our February trip, his travel exemption, while I had a medical note permitting me to fly while pregnant. At check-in, after a nerve-wracking call to Australia for clearance, we made it.
Three hours prior to our flight, in an eerily empty terminal that I had never seen in Vienna, we both stood in shock, clutching our boarding passes.
It was really happening. We could ask our neighbor to drop off our apartment keys because we were boarding a flight to Sydney.
Just the two of us, among only 50 lucky individuals on this particular flight.
Now, we’re enduring our two weeks of mandatory quarantine, all while enjoying a ridiculous view of Sydney Harbour.
No fresh air and microwave meals on repeat, but overwhelmingly blessed to be here in Australia.
View from our quarantine hotel room—not too shabby!
Stefan and I have experienced rapid life changes before (like getting married for visa purposes, anyone?) but doing so during a global pandemic while expecting a child is a whole new level!
We’re not out of the woods yet, and I anticipate numerous challenges ahead, but for now, I’m just incredibly grateful we made it when 30,000 other Australians are still caught in limbo.
What does it mean for Austrian Adaptation?
The most frequently asked question from friends and followers, of course, is – what will happen to this blog? Will there be an Australian Adaptation? (Short answer – that name is far too long and cumbersome, trust me!)
First and foremost – all the resources, articles, and the Slow Travel Guide to Vienna will remain here. This website holds eight years of insights on life in Austria that won’t be erased overnight, so there’s no need to worry!
I constantly receive messages on Instagram and via email expressing how helpful the advice on this blog has been, which was always my intention—to assist others navigating similar experiences. That commitment won’t change.
There’s still a queue of content waiting to be shared, such as ski trips in Tyrol, summer itineraries, and updates on cafes and brunch spots. Essentially, it’ll be business as usual here on the blog. In the future, I’m planning to collaborate with local writers and bloggers as contributors to keep the content fresh and current.
And you can bet your bottom dollar that as soon as travel normalizes again, I’ll be back in Vienna every October to delight in the autumn leaves!
View this post on Instagram
A post shared by Carly| AustrianAdaptation (@carlyhulls) on Nov 6, 2019 at 10:45pm PST
However, for the next chapter of our lives in Australia, it doesn’t seem right for those stories to exist here. This site is a resource for those seeking specific insights about Austria and its surroundings. The next part of our adventure will unfold differently.
That’s why I’ll be sharing updates on everything—from moving abroad to career insights, slow travel, and living experiences—over at carlyhulls.com.
Consider it a new beginning for a travel and lifestyle blog where all of you who have been part of the journey can keep track of our unfolding story.
My heart will always be divided between Austria and Australia, and I hope that in time, we can share our lives between both incredible countries. So this isn’t a farewell to Austria – it’s simply an Auf Wiedersehen!
