Australia and Germany are quite similar: they share, for example, a love of beer and sausages. However, when I arrived in Germany 18 months ago, fresh from sunny Sydney, the stark differences quickly became evident. The first winter was a shock. Getting to the lab became a perilous experience as ice coated the cobblestone roads. Skidding down the frosty driveway one morning, I drew a crowd of amused neighbours, who had already negotiated the same pathway like sure-footed mountain goats. Clearly, I need a sign that says, “Achtung: Australian on ice”.

The sign would likewise be useful for negotiating the linguistic and cultural challenges of a new country and a new academic environment. Starting out in a new lab was difficult yet thrilling. The familiar comforts of home and my previous lab life were gone. I had to be careful not to lose my footing.

Now, with the teething problems of arrival over, I have grown to love my second home. However, soon I must come to grips with my future. My research to date has specialized in topics that rarely make good dinner conversation: collecting faeces and breeding cockroaches. I aim to investigate the gut bacteria of the cockroach, about which very little is known, despite the insect's notorious reputation as a disease carrier.

In the time I have left, I must hatch many more cockroaches even than were present in my last apartment, but that is not my only problem. Will my scientist husband and I stay in Germany or return to Australia? Which country would allow both our careers to flourish? Already I am concerned: will I be able to stay in academic research? When I look beyond life as a postdoc, jobs seem so few and opportunities are precious. What sacrifices will have to be made? And, most troubling of all, with the World Cup in progress, which team should I cheer for?