My Experience in Western Australia

What happens the second you step out of the airport with a backpack on your shoulders and a killer case of jet lag?

In my previous posts, I talked about what made me take the plunge in the first place, what the WHV actually is, and how to extend it if you want to stay longer.

In this post, though, I’m diving into my own personal experience in Western Australia (the only state where I lived and worked). Expect a mix of practical tips and a look at what it was really like through my own eyes.

At first, my brain had only one thought on loop: "What the hell am I actually doing here?"

Being Homeless for sometimes

The first 3 steps (and half) to follow

• Tax File Number (TFN): This is your Australian tax code. You can apply online for free on the ATO (Australian Taxation Office) website. You’ll need it to get paid legally and avoid being taxed at a nightmare rate (up to 45%). If you’re planning to work as a freelancer or contractor (say, in construction or food delivery), you’ll also need to register for an ABN (Australian Business Number), which is free as well.

• Bank Account: Ideally, you should set this up before you leave, but you can easily open one right after landing (with banks like Commonwealth, ANZ, or NAB).

• Australian SIM Card: Forget those unlimited 10-Euro data plans back in Italy. The main carriers here are Telstra (best coverage if you're heading into the outback), Optus, and Vodafone. Just grab a prepaid plan and you’re good to go.

• An extra step (if you want to give yourself an edge): get certified! Having specific tickets can give your resume a real boost. For example, a "White Card" is a mandatory short course if you want to work in construction. If hospitality is more your vibe—like working in bars, pubs, or restaurants—you’ll need an RSA. (There are plenty of online providers out there, but personally, I’d recommend Eclipse Education).

  
  

Hostel VS Apartment

When I first landed in Perth, like most people, I started out in a hostel. The energy was insane, a non-stop flow of people from every corner of the globe, all sharing the same fears, the same hopes, and that same urge to take on the world. Still, I was carrying too much "social baggage" with me, so I felt like I had to find a place of my own.

I hopped on Facebook, scrolled through Marketplace and local groups, and found a room in a shared apartment. The result? Sure, having your privacy is nice, but looking back, I’d actually recommend sticking around the hostel for as long as you can at first.

A hostel isn't just a cheap place to crash, it’s a living, breathing info hub. That’s where you find out who’s hiring, who’s selling a decent used car, which agencies to avoid like the plague, and which farms are taking people on. Renting a place settles you down and cuts you off; staying in a hostel keeps you hungry and keeps your network buzzing.

Between Strawberry Farm and Gas Station

Hostel advice aside, irony of fate, I actually scored one of my first jobs thanks to a housemate. On a Working Holiday Visa, you end up doing a whole lineup of totally absurd jobs. For instance, at one point, I literally found myself selling plushies. Then came my agricultural turning point: strawberry picking. The romantic theory tells you about fresh air, sunshine, and connecting with nature. The reality? A broken back at 6 AM, hands caked in mud, and the immediate realization that picking strawberries takes the physical endurance of an Olympic marathoner (that said, I actually kind of loved it). It lasted exactly one week.

Then they let us go without batting an eye simply because we were too slow.On the way back, feeling pretty defeated, zoned out, and snapped in half, we pulled into a gas station for a coffee (pretty standard around here, considering most cafés close right after lunch).

We were chatting in English, laughing off our glorious, and short-lived, farming career. A guy at the counter overheard us, turned around, and struck up a conversation. "Hey, you guys looking for work? I need a shop assistant." I asked, "When do we start?" His answer: "In two hours." Hired on the spot, no questions asked, off we went. No formal interviews in a suit and tie, no three-page cover letters. That’s how things happen in Australia: at lightning speed, often over a machine coffee in the middle of nowhere.From then on, my versatility just spiraled: to make some extra cash, I also worked as a waiter in an Italian restaurant. And once I headed out into the remote regions to rack up those famous 88 days, my resume became an absolute masterpiece of nonsense. I worked as a housekeeper, a yardman at a resort, a ranger in a national park (doing some downright surreal stuff), and I even found myself pouring rivers of beer at an outback horse race.

Shift to a Week-by-Week Mindset

When I left Europe, I was deeply ingrained with our typical mindset: a well-defined yearly plan, medium-to-long-term goals, structured savings, step 1, step 2, step 3.

After a month in Perth, my annual plan turned into a six-month plan. After two months, it became quarterly. Then monthly.

Eventually, I figured out how life actually works down here: in Australia, you think week by week.

You pay rent every week. You get paid every week. On Monday, you're picking strawberries and feeling utterly broken, and by Thursday, you're working behind a counter cracking jokes with the locals. Here, flexibility isn’t a compromise, it’s pure freedom.

Western Australia taught me to let go of the need for control. Fewer mental calculations, more presence. Learning to live one week at a time doesn't mean you lack ambition; it means realizing that the only way to not miss the magic of what’s happening around you is to stop worrying about where you’ll be in six months.

Australia changes you if you let it. It strips away your rigid structures and leaves you standing there, on your own two feet, facing a fiery sunset over the Indian Ocean, with the peaceful knowledge that whatever happens next Monday... you’re going to be just fine.

Conclusion

• Be kind to yourself: Always remember that you are literally on the other side of the world. If you feel lost or overwhelmed at first, that is completely normal. And if you don't have experience with hands-on jobs, don't panic: the great thing about Australia is that there’s often more demand than supply. Put together a good resume (even if you have to throw in a few strategic little white lies about past duties), print out a bunch of copies, and go hand them out old-school. Often, a warm smile and a good attitude count far more than a long list of qualifications.

• Smart strategy for your 88 days: If you plan on extending your visa for a second year, here’s a piece of honest advice: don't leave it until the last minute. Getting those 88 days done actually takes about 4 to 5 months out of your year. My suggestion is to hit two birds with one stone: use that time to travel through remote areas, picking up work on farms or local venues as you go. That way, you'll rack up the required days without it feeling like a prison sentence at the end.

• Gear up for the Outback: From your SIM card to basic supplies, always be prepared. You will often find yourself out in the middle of nowhere, with zero signal. In those moments, plenty of water, some extra food, and a good old-fashioned paper map will literally be a lifesaver.

• Get off the beaten track (and respect the local history): This is advice I’m giving myself for the next time I head back to Australia, too. There are so many regions and small towns off the beaten path that let you truly connect with the local culture. In particular, taking the time to learn about Aboriginal culture with genuine curiosity and respect is a deeply rewarding experience, and something I definitely promise myself I’ll dive into even further when I return.

• Living Outdoor is completely normal in Australia. Buying a car, use it as your home, take shower at public ones and use the Outdoor BBQ as personal Kitchen it's okay. Get in use with it, and you will be a truly Mate.