After four months studying in Canada, Rachel Agius returned a wiser, more resourceful person with lots of international friends and a newfound ability to share bathroom facilities with strangers and tolerate the musical failings of neighbours...

Nestled between the professional commitment of a business trip and the sanctioned indulgence of a holiday, travelling for study has often been described as one of the most formative experiences of the fledgling academic life.

I would come across pictures of my friends back home at some event or other and I cannot deny that there were pangs of sadness at having missed out

Leaving our island home and often the comforts of living with one’s family can be difficult, particularly for those students who have not travelled extensively in the past. At home, there is the convenience of home-cooked meals, the freedom from household bills and a free laundry service. So what pushes students to temporarily fly the nest?

For some it is the search for independence, an opportunity to test their capacity to survive on their own, away from the luxuries of home.

For others, it offers the chance to learn and be taught in a different environment, a new place in which to grow academically, make invaluable contacts with staff and maybe discover new interests.

When I received news that my application had been accepted, some time last May, my first reaction was unbridled euphoria. Four months in beautiful green Canada!

Immediately everything fell into one of two categories; before the exchange and after. Arrangements had to be made, money transferred, accommodation booked and courses researched, and suddenly it was the day before departure and I realised I wouldn’t see my family, my friends or even my dogs for a good four months.

I envisaged catching pneumonia in the Arctic cold I assumed awaited me, and having to survive in a chilly, lonely room all by myself. Dismal images of solitary meals and tearful calls home seemed to cross my mind a lot.

Getting on that plane was a mix of anxiety at flying and trepidation that maybe I didn’t entirely know what I was doing.

It was not possible to be more wrong. Trent University in Peterborough, located about 90 minutes away from Toronto, is locally known as the forest college. My room overlooked a giant maple tree that turned russet red in October and I shared classes with the friendliest people I have ever met.

It turns out that it’s true what they say about Canadians – everyone from the cafeteria staff to the professors and administrative officers was helpful and polite.

Classes were engaging and required constant reading and research in order to keep up to date.

However, there was also plenty of free time. Living on campus meant that friends were right next door and there was always something fun going on, whether it was a film screening in the common room, a silent midnight pancake party to ease exam stress or simply exploring the miles of trails that crisscrossed the hills close by.

Video calls home kept me up to speed on family events and, thanks to group calling, able to have breakfast with friends half way across the world.

Certainly there were difficult times. When a family member needed emergency surgery, I felt keenly aware of how far apart we were, despite the illusory nature of Skype and e-mail.

After having spent a quiet weekend indoors doing course work, I would come across pictures of my friends back home at some event or other and I cannot deny that there were pangs of sadness at having missed out.

A tight budget meant shopping trips were carefully planned and the most unusual things became a luxury, such as crackers that were not store branded or fresh fruit.

Living door-to-door with other students sometimes meant putting up with video game-directed ire at 2 a.m. and I discovered that having a room in the same hallway as a music major meant less beautiful renditions of Bach and more repeated failure to hit the right key than I anticipated.

And despite having some of the cleanest facilities I have ever laid eyes on, student housing has a way of improving your ability to take a shower without thinking about what (or, dare I say, who) the previous occupant of the cubicle was doing.

Much like any experience, my study abroad presented challenges, discoveries and opportunities to prove to myself that I can do a lot more than I thought I could.

I learnt that asking for help is often an easier solution than trying to muddle through on your own.

I realised that, in a university such as Trent where students are often living very far away from home, there are facilities and services specifically in place to make life more comfortable; case in point was when an old back injury started to give me trouble (remember everyone; lift with your knees!) and a wonderful doctor went out of her way to make sure I got the medication I needed.

I discovered that, in a pinch, you could reheat yesterday’s takeaway pizza on the heating vents without causing damage to either the vent or the pizza. While that last point may not exactly be the kind of learning universities endorse, it does somehow sum up my time abroad.

Perhaps this is an accurate if slightly overused cliché, but I returned home a better person after those four months abroad.

I count time management, budget juggling and travel planning among my newfound skills and resourcefulness, and a stronger sense of identity and friends from the far-flung corners of the earth as unexpected yet welcome developments.

I came back very glad to see the faces I missed so much but my answer, whenever someone would ask if I would do it all again, was and remains a resounding ‘Yes.’