My grown-up gap year by Susan, 51: There's much more to life than shopping

Published on Monday 10 November 2008 19:41

WE ARE on the move again. This journey is a two-hour bus ride from Bethlehem in Pennsylvania to Strivers Row in Harlem, where we will spend a week in the world's greatest city before heading home to the best small country in the world.

I have no idea what lies ahead. When we set off in May, the global economy was tightening but had not yet plunged into recession. People dismissed Barack Obama's dream of winning the election as just that, a dream, and before leaving we renewed our mortgage at a sensible, fixed rate of 5.8 per cent – interest rates are now at 3 per cent.

We need to start earning again, and fast, but after that who knows? I certainly don't. All I do know is that the world is full of fascinating, friendly people and I want to meet all of them.

People like Martha Fishkin, a 50-year-old punk from downtown Manhattan who earns a living building TV and film sets and spends her spare time campaigning to make sure all Americans understand their right to vote.

Or Marion Clump, who at 84 has more energy and enthusiasm for life than most of us have at 34. She is as knowledgeable, and as enthusiastic, about Johnny Depp as she is about the early 20th-century economist John Maynard Keynes.

Or Debbie Casey, a mother of four sons, who works full-time in a bank, goes to night school three times a week and has a regular world-music slot on her local radio station. She still found time to help Obama's campaign, from before the primaries through to election night.

My address book is bulging with the contact details of quiet heroes from across Europe, southern Africa and the east coast of the US. Some will become life-long friends, others I will never see again, but each one of them has helped make our journey the adventure of a lifetime.

Even the occasional jerks that we encountered – the Bulgarian border guard who needed a bribe before he would let us enter his country was particularly annoying – were not awful enough to matter.

If this journey has taught me anything, it is that human beings are essentially good. Yes, even George W Bush, whose gracious, generous words about Obama's victory helped redeem him, in my eyes at least.

Another thing I have learned is that making do and mending is a good thing.

We now order the cheapest wine on the menu and still have fun. I have almost weaned myself off glossy magazines and no longer buy expensive lipstick just because I need cheering up.

I have also rediscovered my sewing skills, which I have not needed since I became a standard bearer for our country's decade-long shopping frenzy.

A few days ago my husband was shocked to find me carefully darning a merino wool sweater that I had snagged on election day.

Six months ago I would have thrown it out and rushed down to Gap to buy a new one. Today, I am wearing my patched sweater with pride.

My husband is sceptical that my new-found thriftiness will last when I am faced with the shopping opportunities of Manhattan, but with the pound dwindling against the dollar and our cash fast running out, I am pretty restricted in what I can spend anyway.

So, a Banana Republic spree can wait. I am going to spend the next week hanging out with Martha in Central Park, exploring Harlem and reading at least one of the books that Marion insists will change my outlook on life.

And, if I have time, I will start preparing myself for re-entry into my old life.

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