We left the UK for the Netherlands – for £330,000 we have a three-storey house

Around half a million people leave the UK to live abroad each year. A survey by the British Council showed 72 per cent of 18- to 30-year-olds would consider living and working overseas, with cold weather, the high cost of living, extortionate childcare, a lack of work-life balance and even poor romantic prospects among their motivations for leaving the country. The i Paper’s Expat Files follows Britons who have taken the leap and settled elsewhere, detailing the ups and downs of their journeys. Julie Taylor, 53, moved from Edinburgh to Leiden with her husband Richard in 2018. They left in search of new adventure and affordable living. Here, she shares how life compares. When my husband Richard had a heart attack, an ambulance reached our home in Leiden within eight minutes. The hospital is close enough to see from our house. When my mum fell in Britain, she waited eight hours for an ambulance before my brother drove her to the hospital, then spent another 16 hours on a trolley before being seen. That contrast helps explain why, eight years after leaving Edinburgh for the Netherlands, I have no intention of returning. Yes, we pay high taxes, but you can see where the money goes. When British friends come to visit, they marvel at how clean everything is and how good the roads are. Richard and I are both originally from Halifax. We were both working in banking and living in Edinburgh when we moved in 2018. Brexit was not the motivation – the attraction was the opportunity to try something different.We initially kept our Edinburgh house and rented it out, leaving ourselves somewhere to return to if the move didn’t work. But buying a home in the Netherlands, followed by the upheavals of Brexit and Covid, gradually made our new life feel permanent. A dispute with our third set of tenants prompted us to sell the Edinburgh property last year. It sold within a month, for £300,000. In Leiden, between Amsterdam and The Hague, we own a three-storey terraced house, bought six years ago for €400,000 (£334,000). We are the only international residents on our block. Our fox red Labrador, Marty McFly — his pedigree name — made the journey from Britain by ferry. Leiden is a mini Amsterdam: canals and historic streets, a tiny red-light district, with fewer tourists and a less hectic atmosphere. Our mainline railway station makes getting elsewhere easy. We love the café culture here. Everyone sits outside all year round unless it is really raining. We have beautiful parks and lots of greenery. The house has underfloor heating, although we replaced the bathroom. Dutch enthusiasm for comfort did not extend to the facilities we inherited. We installed a battery and solar panels. I have also bought a hybrid car, easing myself towards electric motoring rather than making the full leap. The prospect of coming off a ferry with a depleted battery still worries me. I believe they call it range anxiety. Moving country gave me a chance to change my working life, too. Rather than returning to banking, I went into business with someone I met through Facebook. During Covid, I became increasingly interested in networking. I now run Buzz Business Networking, bringing together international entrepreneurs in the Netherlands and elsewhere through events, memberships and practical support. Richard, formerly a chief audit executive at an insurance company, tried early retirement last year. I suspect he misses the intellectual challenge and may return to work. Staying at home with the dog has not quite filled the gap. Our social circle is international, with Polish, Greek and American friends among many others. I’m often the only British person in the room at business events. I speak some Dutch and have taken courses, but I don’t use it to conduct business. Despite having studied languages at university, I find sustained conversations tiring when I am not immersed in the language every day. At one networking event, it became like white noise. My limited fluency has not stopped me from feeling welcome. There are volunteers who help overseas residents learn Dutch and a broader willingness to offer assistance. There is always help for pretty much anything here, you just need to learn to ask for it. I feel safe walking around at night and admire the way public spaces are looked after. Following a recent festival in Leiden, the streets were spotless the next day. The approach to work also appeals. In my experience, staying late earns little admiration, colleagues take lunch together and workplace hierarchies feel relatively flat. Fathers taking their share of childcare is an accepted part of working life: “Daddy Day” is sacred. Going for a drink after work feels more about company than getting drunk – it is not like the British who go to get drunk. People drink Kinderbier (children’s beer), which is less than a half-pint. The emphasis is on the social aspect rather than the alcohol. It is a contrast I notice particularly when travelling back from Britain alongside groups heading for Amsterdam stag weekends. It’s just embarrassing. For healthcare, we pay €300 (£250) a month as a couple, including dental cover and physiotherapy. After Richard’s experience, I consider that good value. My assessment of the Netherlands is rooted in what we receive for the money: accessible care, well-kept surroundings and dependable transport. We still have British passports. We once imagined retiring to France, attracted by the possibility of buying a house with a pool for €200,000 to €300,000 (£167,000 to £250,000). I have not ruled out another adventure, but returning to Britain is not part of our plan. For now, Leiden offers a life we enjoy, a community and a sense that our contribution buys something tangible. My advice to anyone contemplating a move is straightforward: It’s not easy moving abroad, but unless you try, you’ll never know.