In this era, it seems like the law-firm sabbatical more and more is becoming a thing of the past. However, when extended time off, without pay, was one of the accepted benefits of tenure, there was no shortage of creative and adventurous ways to spend a few relaxing weeks or months away from the daily grind. Here, we present two such stories.
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Turning 50 can be traumatic and has been the butt of many jokes regarding mid-life crises. As I approached that milestone a few years ago, I decided the best way to do it would be on an extended sabbatical, and with style. So, I made reservations on the Orient Express.
We all think of the Orient Express in Agatha Christie terms, with Hercule Poirot and his mustache, traveling from London to Istanbul. In today’s world, there are a number of other options, from a simple overnight trip between Venice and Paris to a more extended trip, involving more exotic locales. Just check out www.orient-express.com. My friend and I chose something in between — a trip from Venice to Prague, a stopover in Prague for two days, then overnight to Paris, continuing on to London. It was everything we hoped for.
We started out at the special Venice-Simplon Orient Express desk at the Venice train station. You could tell this wasn’t an ordinary trip — there were big machines washing the green-and-gold rail cars, men in white gloves handling the luggage, and the arriving passengers were dressed in a style one doesn’t see anymore. We had been warned in advance that one didn’t wear “trainers” (read athletic shoes) or jeans on the train, and one “dressed” for dinner. It seems everyone had gotten the memo.
As we found our assigned carriage, we were greeted by Richard, our personal steward. The interiors of the compartments are gorgeous, with polished inlaid hardwood, fresh flowers and cushy upholstery. As we left the station, the ladies that had checked us in stood in a line and waved goodbye, while a four-piece band played music. We all waved back, watching the people left behind gaze at us with envy.
Rolling through the Italian countryside, we decided to explore the train, making our way through the three dining cars — each decorated in a different style — to the bar car, where we could meet the other passengers while listening to the gentleman in tails playing tunes from the ’30s on the baby grand piano. I kept expecting Cole Porter to walk by.
After dressing for dinner (not easy when your suitcase turns into a backpack), we joined the other diners for lobster with champagne and white truffle risotto, and an amazing chocolate thing I still dream about. We watched in amazement as the waiters were able to pour and serve on the rocking train, without spilling a drop.
More than half the men were in black tie and we shared the table with a couple celebrating their 25th anniversary. It seemed most people were there for a special occasion and enjoying every bit of the indulgence this train ride represented. Following dinner, we returned to the bar car for an after-dinner drink, allowing Richard time to convert our compartment into a bedroom. When we returned, the beds were made with extra mattresses and sheets, robes and slippers laid out, and the lights turned low. Alas, sleep was difficult, since these trains were built in the ’30s and tend to rattle and sway.
We arrived in Vienna in the morning and were served breakfast (fresh fruit, in crystal glasses, with warm croissants) in our compartment, before traveling on to Prague, where the train was to stay for two days while we explored the city. We soon were back on the train, now old pros at the process. We asked Richard for some ice for the Diet Coke we had brought on board out of habit; he returned with a silver tray and ice bucket, with crystal highball glasses.
As this was the last night on the train, the atmosphere was even more festive, and the bar car filled quickly. One couple walked by — he in white tie and tails, she in something long, shiny and red. Most of our fellow passengers were British, it seemed, and I often felt I was in a 1940s movie set, no more so than when the piano started playing what I know to be “Pomp and Circumstance,” but to Brits is the patriotic “Hope and Glory.” The entire car seemed to come alive, with arms linked and the song sung with fervor, while my friend and I looked around for our caps and gowns.
After arriving in Paris in the morning, the train continued on to the coast, where we transferred to luxury coaches for the quick trip through the Chunnel. On the other side, we were again met by a band and British Pullman train cars, each with its own name, for champagne and a full English tea en route to London, and a return to “real life.”
The Orient Express indeed conjures up “glamour, opulence and extravagance” as noted in its Web site. How better to treat oneself on a sabbatical, where you’ve earned the right to treat yourself a bit.
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Fred Corbit enjoyed a far different experience during his sabbatical from Heller Ehrman. Rather than basking in luxury, Corbit exuded blood, sweat and no doubt a few tears while designing and building a family vacation home (for future sabbaticals perhaps?) from the ground up.
Corbit described it as a break from the frustration of knowing that “hard work and creativity” is not always “enough to get the desired result. Accordingly, when it came time for my sabbatical I focused my attention on doing something where the result of my labors would be more concrete.”
“The desire to build something as big as a house did not spring on me all at once,” Corbit said. “I have always liked to use my hands and over the years I have welded bicycle frames, built furniture, remodeled rooms and completed many other ‘handyman’ projects.” Since childhood, he also had dabbled in architecture, drawing detailed plans “for dozens of structures” that were never built.
It was a couple of years ago, Corbit said, when “everything fell together in a way that allowed me to build a house without giving up my legal practice.” But he could not do it alone. With his wife, he purchased a beachfront lot “at a good price.” His oldest son helped him incorporate a geodesic design into his building plans. His youngest son, who “had the same itch as me when it came to wanting to build something,” helped carry the laboring oar. And Heller Ehrman “was willing to give me the freedom to spend substantial time away from the office.”
“At first,” Corbit said, “the building process was not much different than being a lawyer. I filled out forms, waded through administrative regulations, and obtained building permits.”
Pouring the foundation was a big job, but Corbit had enough money saved to hire two people to help and another to provide a truckload of cement. But it wasn’t until “a huge truck came to the site with tens of thousands of dollars of custom-ordered building materials that I realized that I had gotten myself into a very big project that was very different than what I do as a lawyer.” He also realized that if he didn’t work fast and finish the job, “everything I ordered would just sit out in the elements and rot.”
But along with determination, Corbit also enjoyed “some luck,” particularly of the human persuasion. His wife, his two sons, his younger brother and other family members “helped more than I thought they would. Without my brother, I don’t know if I could have gotten everything done or if I would still be alive.”
He certainly could not have done it alone. As Corbit explained, “Someone had to hold things steady as I climbed up 30 feet on scaffolding that came with a clear instruction that it was not to be used for projects higher than 20 feet.” Fortunately, the good luck outweighed the bad, which included three thefts of tools and building materials as well as (surprise!) heavy rains that arrived two weeks before his shipment of windows.
“Nevertheless,” Corbit related, “the unexpected obstacles never dulled my excitement. Every day that I worked at the site I didn’t need an alarm clock. I always awoke before first light because I was excited to start on another aspect of the project, and each day I worked well past dark because I enjoyed seeing how everything was coming together just like in my building plans.”
The final result is “a beach cabin that our family and friends enjoy.” But the “best thing,” Corbit said, “is the pride that flows from the fact that my hard work and creativity built something very substantial.”
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–Gene Barton
