I first heard the term “˜gap year’ from a smelly English bloke, Richard, who worked on a kibbutz in Israel. He sidled up conspiratorially and said: “˜I’m not like the rest of these rich plonkers on a gap programme, I’m a traveller.’
It was the 1990s and I thought of gap as the term to describe the space where a missing tooth once lodged. Instead, I quickly learnt, it was a cover-all term for doing foolish things in a foreign country, while trying to figure out what to do when you grow up.
It’s still pretty much the case today, except that it’s becoming increasingly common for older adults to take mid-career gaps (while figuring out what to do when they grow up) and some even take their kids along. Richard’s comment was intentionally derisive, of course, but given that the rest of the “˜plonkers’ found gainful employment, while Richard found lodging in a London prison (for sneaking up on a sunbather in Hyde Park and licking her toes) it’s clear that “˜gap’ trumps “˜traveller’ back home in the real world.
Best of all, gap year(s) have become an acceptable placeholder on CVs and a great way to gloss over months lost to tequila, tropical beaches and sunstroke. Some people are even smart enough to manufacture their break in such a way that it adds noble weight to their résumés.
For budget planners, what gap years cost and interviews with guys and girls who went soul-searching, head to tiny.cc/gapyear.
