Reflection: Two Years In The UK

Exactly two years ago today, I kissed my wife and dogs goodbye to fly alone to the UK to start setting up a new life for us. With just the clothes on my back, a suitcase of clothes and as much of my other belongings I could fit in a suitcase, I arrived at Heathrow Airport after an exhausting 21 hour flight (and 2 stops). It would be another 9 hours before I could get some shut-eye, as I had to figure out how to make my way down to Brighton and finally my hotel where I was staying at the time.

Moments before embarking on a 21 hour journey. A face mask AND a face shield were required.

Reflecting on my immigration journey 24 months later, I cannot think of any other emotion than proud. It was a huge leap of faith (both foolish and brave) and a massive risk that thankfully paid off in the end. One could argue that I was a fool for making a decision to move to a country that I had never visited before, but somehow I had a feeling deep-down that it would all be fine and that it would all work out in the end, even if that meant uprooting everything on a feeling.

Every person’s immigration story is uniquely different and I had some personal circumstances that made the move to the UK, relatively painless. Firstly, I have an Irish passport (thanks Gran!) that I had been sitting on for over a decade. In fact, it had to be renewed before I got any use out of it.

Secondly, I had a really good job with a company that had global offices, specifically offices around England. Once an opening in Brighton for my current role (at the time) had appeared on LinkedIn, I had a couple of conversations with my boss and a few emails from HR ultimately led to a thumbs-up, however the move overseas would need to occur wholly at my expense.

Two hour stop over at Doha International Airport, Qatar.

We had both been very unhappy in our country of birth for many years. South Africa is a lot of positive and beautiful things, however the negative factors we had to deal with on a daily basis significantly outweighed the positives. I won’t get into the specifics here, but at a high-level; the economic outlook, crime & safety concerns, employment opportunities and the prospects of a good future for raising a family were all things we could not ignore. Despite it being our place of birth, and somewhere our families and friends grew up and still are, we both wanted more and we both wanted out of South Africa.

Paddington Station, a couple hours after arriving at Heathrow. I was lost.

Emigrating to another country was always on the cards. It had been something my wife and I had discussed at length. We had never been able to agree on a country, with Canada, the US, New Zealand and the UK all being out top choices and weighed up against each other. Each of those routes would ultimately require very unique approaches and have significantly different journeys should we have gone through with them. It wasn’t until the opportunity to make the move to the UK presented itself, that a clear decision to move to the UK was made.

First photo I ever took upon arriving in Brighton.

The move here wasn’t perfect and the first 6 months were definitely the roughest part, with the first month being the worst. I lived out of a Travelodge hotel (low budget hotel chain) for the first month. Stress levels were mostly high due to figuring out how to transfer finances, finding a place to live, getting paperwork sorted, my wife’s paperwork sorted, the dog’s paperwork sorted and bank accounts opened – all while working remotely on some super shoddy internet.

Outside the Travelodge hotel.

By the end of the first month, I definitely think I was malnourished due to having not many cooking options (I only had a kettle and microwave) and living on microwave pastas. To make matters worse, everything in the UK was in lockdown due to the Covid-19 pandemic and I couldn’t even leave my tiny room for the first three or so weeks. At the time, things were definitely tough to say the least.

Inside the 4 walls of my Travelodge room

It wasn’t until the first few days of the new year of 2021 that I found a small flat to move into. Thankfully it came with a bed, but that was about it. Buying bedding, basic cutlery and stocking up on food were the first priority. It was the middle of winter and bitterly cold with frost patches on the streets and even light snowfall, so venturing out wasn’t ideal at the time. Even a one-bedroom flat with nothing in it, has a loud echo.

An empty flat. Not much, but it was home.

Over the next few months, the flat would slowly fill up. The first 6 months here were definitely the loneliest I’d ever been in my life – but phone calls with my wife and constant reminders on why we were doing this made it worth it. Time did go by quick but it wouldn’t be until May 2021 that my wife arrived. Looking back at it all, that all seems like forever ago now.

Snow starting to fall.

Fast-forward 24 months to the day and I do not regret my decision. The UK has been very good to both me and my family. I’ve been able to get my wife and dogs over here, and we have both rebuilt a life from the ground up as well as reacquired all the belongings to make a house, a home. We both have good jobs at the moment, a small but growing friend circle and a little home now, just outside Brighton with a garden for the dogs to run free and fire-place for the colder months.

It goes without saying that the UK is very different to South Africa – culturally there are a lot of similarities that made getting settled here much quicker. I learnt quickly that it’s much easier if you move with an open mind, don’t resist trying to integrate and don’t continuously compare your old country. It’s been a new country, experience and chapter in our lives that I’m glad we’ve embraced. To us, the tough days are behind us and England is now home.

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