The Gap Year I Finally Took — 35 Years Late

What I couldn’t afford at 18, I finally gave myself at 53: a year of slow travel, rediscovery, and learning to belong everywhere.

A quick update and a reflection rolled into one — my newest essay just went live on Business Insider!
It’s about the “gap year abroad” I finally took at 53 — after retiring early and slow-traveling through Europe, Africa, and the UK.

Because BI isn’t always free to read, I’ve recreated and tailored the story here for my Substack readers — the people who’ve followed this journey from the start. Think of it as the director’s cut: same story, a little more heart.

The Gap I Couldn’t Afford

When I was 18, a “gap year” sounded like something other people took — the ones with money, confidence, and a sense of direction. I was just trying to make rent.

I worked three jobs at once to pay for college — even delivered the Sunday paper at 3 a.m. while everyone else was either asleep or coming home from the bars. A year of exploration wasn’t in the budget.

A Do-Over, 35 Years Later

Decades later, at 53, I finally took it.

After retiring early, Nigel and I gave ourselves a do-over — a year of slow travel across Europe, Africa, and the UK. We called it our gap year abroad.

It wasn’t about escape as much as expansion — learning how to be together all day, every day, while discovering who we each were without the job titles.

A Year Written in Places

We started in Dubrovnik, learning to be alone together.

In Lecce, we lived above a café and woke to the smell of warm focaccia.

In Seville, we laughed too loudly and stayed out too late.

Provence whispered we could stay forever.

Mauritius reminded us that island time isn’t a slogan — it’s a reset button.

The UK tested our limits — eight cities in six weeks — and Ireland softened us again with rain, music, and a steadiness so kind I cried in a pub and no one blinked.

Each place offered a version of me I hadn’t met yet.

Travel didn’t erase who I was — it just handed me a mirror from another angle.

What the Year Taught Me

Somewhere along the way, I realized the real experiment wasn’t travel. It was identity. I’d spent decades being productive, useful, dependable — the person who always had a plan. A year without work forced me to ask a harder question:

Who am I when there’s nothing to prove?

Travel didn’t give me the answer, but it gave me space to hear it.

By the end of the year, I realized this wasn’t a break; it was a beginning.

We’d built a portable version of home — one made of borrowed furniture, shared meals, evening walks, and a growing comfort with being outsiders on purpose.

The Lesson I Keep Coming Back To

If you’ve ever thought it’s too late to start over, this year proved otherwise. Belonging can begin anywhere.

If you want the fuller version of the story, here’s the Business Insider piece:

👉 Read “I couldn’t afford to take a gap year in college. So at 53, I retired early to travel the world.”

What’s Next

Coming next: our next six-month chapter through Oceania and Bali — an “upside-down” leg of the journey where everything from the seasons to the stars feels reversed.

See you on the road,
💛Kelly

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We’re the Benthalls — a Gen X couple who retired early to slow-travel the world one month at a time. We write about reinvention, belonging, and what it means to build a home everywhere you go.

If you’ve been enjoying these stories, you can support Benthall Adventures for $6/month or $60/year. It keeps the travel tales (and the wine) flowing.🍷

If this post made you smile, daydream, or double-check your passport, give it a ❤️, comment, or restack. Tell me what adventure you’re plotting next—or the one you’re still recovering from.

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