51, not yet. Maybe at 60. I could retire if I wanted to, it would mean buying a small place in a cheap area, but I don't want to. I like my work. Odd, I know. If you had said this to me 10 years ago I would have laughed in your face. However a life changing accident at 42 and a lot of time to reflect gives you a different view. It helps that I work for myself and my clients are who I want, when I want, within reason. I recently missed an opportunity to spend 2 months in the USA, I was brassed off when I missed that. Likewise a conversation re France went nowhere. Instead I'm going to a vegetable processor in Lincolnshire for a while. Oh, the glamour. However the gaps in my employment are enough to persuade me that I don't yet want a life of leisure 12 months a year. I don't much enjoy flogging up and down motorways, I certainly don't like hanging around airports on Friday nights, but knowing that it's not for ever makes it tolerable as part of a bigger picture.