The seeds of a gap year abroad -- the British tradition of spending time far from home -- were sown when I was 22 and studying in France's Loire Valley. It was 1979, and my time abroad ignited a love affair with France and a wanderlust that compelled me to travel the continent. However, I yearned to share my experiences with Joe, the high school sweetheart I would later marry. I promised myself I would return to Europe for an encore year when I was older and wiser, this time with my partner beside me.
From early in our marriage, Joe and I discussed our future gap year with joint imaginings that soon took definite shape. I became borderline obsessive about fleshing out the details of our sabbatical, pushing aside what we should do and replacing it with what we wanted to do at every juncture.
More...
