After more than a decade in China, during which she got married and had a son, Mann is now making plans to return to the UK, although it will take her a few years. “Nearly all of my expat friends left after Covid,” she says. “Many faced, for the first time, the strong arm of a dictatorship that in many respects had not exercised its authoritarian nature in Shanghai.” She estimates that her salary might halve in the UK, and she may well lose the luxuries her life abroad affords, such as live-in domestic help and affordable eating out, but believes the benefits will far outweigh the cost.
Whether post-pandemic or spurred by political unrest, climate change or the cost of living, it seems that turmoil across the globe is acting as a catalyst for a wave of regretful expats, who are rethinking their lives in faraway countries and considering how to get home, if they haven’t returned already. (I began researching this piece before the terrible racist riots began in the UK, which changed beyond measure the feelings – and reality – of safety here for so many).
Why do we dream of escape? There has long been a sense that real opportunity lies beyond these green and pleasant lands. The popularity of the long-running Channel 4 show A Place in the Sun, which launched in 2002 and has a spin-off international property company and live exhibition business, is testament to our enthusiasm for exploring life in another country, even if only from the sofa.
According to a BBC report called Brits Abroad, launched in 2005 to attempt to gauge who moves abroad and where they go, an estimated 5.5 million people were living permanently abroad 20 years ago. It found that emigration happens in cycles over 200 years and that it was on the rise again, with 2,000 British citizens moving permanently away from the UK every week in 2005. In 2010, our top 10 destinations were Australia, Spain, US, Canada, Ireland, New Zealand, South Africa, France, Germany and Italy.
Although there is data to show how many people are arriving and leaving the country each year, there’s nothing to show who is coming back to their country of origin rather than moving to the UK as a migrant. But there are strong indications that not all is well with Brits abroad. Estate agent Knight Frank, for example, found that 39 per cent of its global customers chose to buy property in their home country after lockdown. A total of 20 percent were buying a primary residence, while 48 per cent already owned one, and 29 per cent planned to return home full-time. The 2023 English Housing Survey found that our renewed vigour for Blighty was also reflected in second home purchases, with 60 per cent of holiday properties located in the UK, compared to a 50/50 split a decade ago.
In a survey of 12,000 expats, the Cigna 360 Global Wellbeing Survey 2022 reported that life had significantly changed for those living abroad in recent years, with a huge proportion – 90 per cent – feeling stressed (compared to 77 per cent for those living in their home countries) and an astonishing 98 per cent reporting symptoms of burnout. Others are worried about loneliness and high living costs impacting retirement savings. “Many expats saw their lifestyles completely up-ended by the experience of the pandemic,” said Cigna Healthcare’s Jason Sadler. “The challenge now is to rethink the expat contract to reflect the experiences, and the new priorities, of those living overseas”.
I might have had a lucky escape myself. Last August, while shut inside our holiday villa in the Algarve, I put to bed a long-held dream to move to Portugal. We had all the doors and windows closed to keep out the ash smog from a forest fire, and the blinds down to keep out the 40°C heat. I was attracted by the idea of a relaxed way of life, prioritising family time over social media posts, and a possible route to a European passport.
I have my husband to thank for not having moved out there sooner. He wasn’t up for it, because he can’t understand why anyone would trade the UK for another country. He was born here and moved to the US as a child, so holds both passports, but came back here 25 years ago and intends to stay. Why? Politics, healthcare, footpaths and cycle routes mostly. Oh yes, and the reason most of us want to flee in the opposite direction – the weather. While more sun and less rain might seem attractive, the scarcity of adverse weather events, whether heat waves or tornadoes, and fewer annoying or infectious bugs, are genuine grass-is-greener selling points if you grew up with frozen winters and unbearably hot summers, as my husband did in New York.
Just like me, Danu Stratton-Kent had enjoyed holidays in Portugal but, after moving there in 2021, she discovered the daily reality wasn’t quite as sweet. “The weather lured me here and is now pushing me away,” she explained to i. “A constant film of perspiration precludes comfortably completing the daily tasks of life. Wildfires are so prevalent that many residents have an evacuation bag ready. With imminent threat of drought, desalination plants are being built.”
When psychotherapist Nova Cobban, 45, left the UK for France with her partner and one-year-old, she didn’t expect to feel so lonely. “I was working for a company in the UK whose owners also had a Monaco office,” she explains. “We decided to go for it based on the idea that my partner would be able to do his design business there.”
They moved to Eze, an enchanting clifftop town on the French Riviera. As one of the most beautiful spots in the south of France, she imagined a magical future lay ahead, but the reality was far from fairytale. “I felt very isolated,” she says. “Our relationship was already struggling and this made things much worse. Plus I had a baby to look after. We hadn’t talked about how we would manage childcare or what the options were for that. The main problem we faced was naivety.
“We both ended up feeling depressed and I almost didn’t return to France after one visit back to the UK, to the extent that even at the moment of taking my bags to the car I was still screaming inside that I should stay with my son and let my partner return without us. I was ‘getting through’ each day, not enjoying the days.”
Slowly, Cobban began to engineer her route home. “I did end up starting a business from there, but setting it all up in the UK so I had something to go back to,” she explains. “That business won an award and kick-started my career so it was definitely beneficial in some ways, but moving abroad when your relationship, finances, and support system aren’t secure is a recipe for disaster.”
Although Cobban’s relationship did not ultimately survive, she says that coming back to familiar territory helped in the short-term. “Although Monaco was amazing and full of opportunity, we hadn’t taken into account how difficult the lack of support would be or the knock-on effect it would have.”
New waves of British migrants aren’t always welcome elsewhere either, even if governments encourage them. It is well-known that the floods of young workers moving to European cities, including Berlin, Barcelona and Lisbon, have pushed up living costs beyond the reach of many locals, leading to resentment.
The same can also be said of my demographic – DFLs or Down-from-Londons – who have moved to coastal areas in this country in search of a more relaxed lifestyle and, yes, affordable property. I wonder if the anti-tourism protests across Europe will also deter would-be nomads. A friend who recently moved to Mallorca says she hasn’t experienced any unpleasantness or even seen a protest, apart from on the news, but it’s made them more conscious of how they might be respectful of locals’ wishes.
Maybe our yearning for international adventure is tempered more by age than any other factor. In a recent survey from Gen-Z insights agency Prograd, 52 per cent had considered leaving the UK and 40 per cent do not see it as an appealing place for young people. When things feel tough, it can seem as if anywhere else might offer an easier ride. The only way to find out remains the same as it ever was: you have to leave the UK to see it from a new perspective.