Fast Track: The year of living dangerously

The last chat I had with my boss did not go well. "Frankly, we consider those who take years out as lightweights. Look at me," he said, paunch peeping through his suit. "I've worked for this company for years; I've never felt the need for a sabbatical." It was enough to make me resign on the spot.

Taking the plunge and quitting a comfortable salary and pension after five years is not easy. And it's hard to dress up a year spent windsurfing around the world as a smart career move. Whatever the satisfaction of fulfilling a travel dream, it's harder still to return homeless, jobless and penniless and wind up living at your parents in your thirties.

While some companies remain stuck in the dark ages over granting time out, a growing number have recognised "career breaks", "sabbaticals" or "leave of absence" as pivotal to keeping employees happy in the 1990s. But more traditional employers still prefer their staff to spend their year studying or with the family. Travel for travel's sake is considered frivolous.

I saw it as a "now or never" situation. I had enough experience to find work on return, but no mortgage or children to hold me back. The crunch came as a colleague told me, "At the end of the day, you're not going to wish you'd spent more time in the office".

Fiona Brownlee's move to swap her job as publicity director at Pavilion Books for a round-the-world ticket was a long time in coming and prompted by her looming wedding. "I was desperate to travel when I was 18, but university cropped up. And then again at 21, but I got on the career ladder and it was impossible to get away." At the age of 28, she got engaged, resigned and began her new married life on the road with a trip that took her through Asia and Australia. "I wasn't worried in the least. Everybody was asking what I was going to do when I got back - I was wondering myself."

Information technology graduate Andy Daniels departed on impulse. He left Britain aged 24 with pounds 800 and a one-way ticket to Australia. "It was a snap decision, although the idea to travel had always been in the back of my mind," he said. He did temporary work by day and delivered pizzas by night to raise his fare rather than getting stuck into a career. "I wasn't particularly worried about what I was going to do on return - but I should have been."

After enjoying a disposable income, adjusting to a student-style budget again comes a rude shock. "When I read my diaries of that time, I can't believe the tiny sums I would haggle over," says Fiona. Restaurants become wicked treats and hotels out of range.

The indignity of being thrust cheek-by jowl into heaving hostels staffed by people 10 years younger can be too much to bear. I met a 30-year-old man who consistently gave his age as five years younger, so as not to feel self-conscious. And there are times when you wonder why you are doing it at all. Fiona remembers waking on 14 February in bunk beds. "I knocked on the chipboard and said to my husband below 'Happy Valentine's Day darling'. That was a low point."

Few can afford not to work while travelling but a change from a desk job is refreshing. Fiona wrote travel articles and worked in a ski resort. Andy cleaned aeroplanes, decorated houses and drove as a chauffeur.

If a year out is all about unwinding and discovering a side of yourself you had forgotten, then coming home can be brutal . "After I'd got over the excitement, it was stressful," says Fiona of catching up with career- driven friends. "It was as if everyone was on the motorway and I was on the hard shoulder. All I wanted to do was find someone who'd look at my travel photos." Nor did she experience the vision some expected of her. "I just didn't 'find myself." The only time I got seriously 'travelly' in India, a friend came out, saw my tattoo and toe-ring and told me to get a grip."

Fiona was snapped up in June 1997 after a few weeks back home by Edinburgh- based publishers Mainstream and soon was "back on the career ladder, worrying about a mortgage". She shelved plans to do another ski season. "People said two years away would have been a bit much."

Andy had less luck. After 15 months away, he returned home in 1991 just as the recession was beginning to bite, and filled in more than 200 job applications without success. "There were 2,500 applicants for one job I went for; no one was hiring graduates that year." After eight months he found a job as a computer operator and has worked in the industry ever since.

Neither Andy nor Fiona feel they were penalised for their time away. "If anything it was a plus point. My only mistake was timing," Andy said. "If I'd stayed in England, I could have walked into a job. But the 15 months away made a huge difference because of the recession."

While traditional employers such as retail chain Marks and Spencer tend to grant years out for child care, education or secondments, they won't for travel alone. "We have to resource a large, expanding business. Where do you draw the line? If someone goes, everyone will want to," said press officer Frances Cutts. "But if someone wants to quit, we definitely don't hold that as a black mark against them."

Leading accountants Coopers and Lybrand urge the 700-800 graduates they recruit a year to lose their travel bug before they start. Deferring a job for a year is rarely a problem, but once employees are on the ladder they shouldn't get off for longer than three months, says head of human resources Ron Collard. "They move so quickly through the firm, it's difficult to manage their career if they leave just to travel for a year."

But Andersen Consulting, whose project-based work means it can more easily spare employees, sees it differently. Many consultants come straight from university into high-pressure work. "They haven't had a year out and then think they wish they'd climbed the Himalayas or driven across the States," said Liz Hopkins, head of human resources. Currently 20 of their 2,500 consultants are on leave of absence, granted on demand after a minimum of two years' employment and rarely refused. "We did a lot of research about what's important for our employees and found that balance and quality of life are crucial," she added.

Both Andy and Fiona declare they have no regrets. Fiona professes "a different take on life". "I'm less ambitious, more laid back, less stressed."

Andy is "less fussed about money". "It's easy to fall back into worrying about possessions. But every now and then you remind yourself what a good time you had on absolutely nothing. And how it doesn't really matter that you drive an Astra van rather than a BMW."

If acting on your itchy feet is supposed to cure them, it hasn't worked. Andy still plans another trip, but this time will position himself so he has a job to step back into. Fiona has deliberately left a pair of skis in a resort. "It's like leaving something at your boyfriend's flat after you've split up so you've got an excuse to return."