To put this in context:
The year was 2000. The stock market had dipped from its 12,000 Dow high, but had not crashed. The NASDAQ had been hovering in the 4000 range. The tech bubble was full and there were few who would predict it to burst. Clinton was in his last year of presidency. He and Hillary had weathered Lewinsky and we were all grateful not to be hearing anything more about the stained blue dress except in off-color jokes.
There had been no Mad Cow -- no 9/11 -- but yes, we had Columbine. We had a housing market with values growing ridiculously every year and we all knew it, though the Realtors all claimed "this is the best time to buy and own a home!"
I had been working in the banking industry for three years. The last two and a half had been in sales and I was licensed for deposit accounts, lending, and brokerage. What's more - I was good at my job. My clients loved me. I maintained relationships. I was honest and set reasonable expectations. They trusted me and I was proud of that trust. With it came bonus checks -- that seemed like just too much after I allocated large amounts toward savings. So I took a trip that I'd always wanted to take - and didn't worry about the cost.
I went to England. On my own, feeling safe. Feeling all the hope and idealism that comes with being able to create your own destiny. No International cell phone service, just a camera and paper maps. This is my story.
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