Every summer, thousands of young people sign up for “working holidays”, drawn by promises of sun, independence and cultural exchange. Since Brexit, working legally overseas for British nationals has become more complex. Behind the marketing lies a network of agencies that charge significant fees while promising access to seasonal jobs and lifestyle experiences.

Since 2020, the landscape has shifted dramatically. Before Brexit, UK citizens could live and work across EU member states without a visa, a pathway used by thousands of seasonal workers, resort staff and travel representatives each year. Between 2017 and 2023, the number of UK nationals in EU seasonal roles fell by around two-thirds, from nearly 12,000 to under 4,000. British citizens now legally must obtain a work visa or permit to be employed in countries like Spain if they intend to work rather than just visit popular destinations such as Marbella, Ibiza or Magaluf.

Demand hasn’t disappeared, but the legal route has narrowed, leaving many young people reliant on third-party agencies.

Many of these companies occupy a grey area between travel provider and recruitment agency. Unlike traditional UK recruitment businesses, which are regulated to ensure transparency and fair treatment, working-holiday providers often define themselves as accommodation services or “experience facilitators.”

If a company frames itself as neither recruiter nor employer, it may fall outside the regulatory structures designed to oversee employment agencies. Equally, because the primary product is “access to work” rather than a holiday package, participants may not benefit from the consumer protections typically associated with travel services. The result is a regulatory grey zone in which responsibility becomes fragmented: agencies sell access, employers offer work, but accountability is limited.

The underlying issue is structural incentive. When revenue is secured through upfront participation fees rather than the long-term welfare or lawful employment of the worker, the risk shifts decisively onto the individual.

Many agencies charge upfront fees for accommodation, transfers and “job access”, while leaving participants to navigate visas and employment themselves. Once a young person has invested financially and emotionally, it becomes harder to walk away, even when wages are low, hours are long, or conditions are unsafe.

Behavioural economists call this the “sunk cost” fallacy: the more we invest, the harder it is to admit things aren’t working out. For an 18-year-old abroad for the first time, this quiet endurance can mean absorbing risks they might otherwise challenge.

In practice, this can take many forms. Some workers arrive expecting a guaranteed job, only to find there is no role waiting for them, forcing them to search for work informally while still paying for accommodation arranged by the agency. Others secure shifts only briefly, or are asked to complete unpaid trial work, leaving them without stable income. In party resorts, young workers may take on promotional or hospitality roles without proper visas, increasing their risk of fines or dismissal without protection. Long hours, cash-in-hand wages, and a lack of formal contracts can leave workers with little recourse if they are underpaid or dismissed without notice.

Some describe feeling pressure to accept poor conditions because they are living in accommodation tied to the agency, surrounded by others in the same situation, and unsure how to access help in a foreign country.

These dynamics can also make it harder to recognise problems early. Warning signs can include being asked to pay upfront for “job access”, unclear information about visas, a lack of written contracts, or roles that rely entirely on commission rather than guaranteed pay.

One company previously operating in this space, Workers’ Family, described itself in its terms and conditions as an “accommodation service” rather than a recruitment or relocation agency, placing responsibility for securing employment and appropriate visas on participants. Companies House records later show the UK entity was subject to compulsory strike-off proceedings, while reporting in The Observer linked the company to complaints from young people working in Mediterranean party resorts.

Some of the concerns raised around these agencies are echoed in online discussions. One parent, writing on the forum Reddit, described their child returning home early after discovering that “the promise of jobs before you go is a joke,” and that there was “no help or input from the ‘so-called reps’” once they arrived. While these accounts are difficult to verify, they reflect a broader sense of frustration around the gap between what is promised and what is experienced in practice.

While not all working holiday experiences are negative, the structure surrounding many of these programmes creates conditions where exploitation can take hold more easily. In these environments, the line between poor practice and labour exploitation can become difficult to define, and even harder to challenge.

If you’ve already paid to be there, are far from home, and aren’t sure of your rights, it becomes much harder to question things or walk away when something doesn’t feel right.

Working abroad can still be rewarding. But as these opportunities become more commercialised, transparency and accountability are essential. Without them, the risks fall on the people taking  part. When opportunity comes with legal uncertainty, financial risk and little protection, a stark question remains: at what point does adventure become exploitation?

For further insight, watch this Channel 4 documentary in which an undercover investigation explores how some working holiday schemes operate in practice. The film also features an interview with Unseen’s CEO, Andrew Wallis, discussing the risks of labour exploitation abroad.