10 days to Go

Rick's bag, packed and encouraging, stands neatly, solidly, parked against the wall. 

Ricks bag, packed and neatly parked.

Some hours later and I have assembled some travel essentials... money belt, passport, adapter plugs, compass, thermometer, locks, maps, sun hat, travel towel?  The pile looks enormous and I try to think when I last used a thermometer or travel towel anyway.  Sunhat? Buy one there.  The real work of choosing just 3 tops and 3 bottoms that 'mix and match', to suit any place, any time, any temperature has not even started.  Several pairs of shorts hope to make the 'short list'.  (None of them are ready to be condemned to the storage box for the winter.) 

I pride myself on travelling light... (one of us has to-Rick's total is already a hefty 22 kg) while I dither about wondering if I should pack the wheelie handy 2.5kg bag or the  lighter, tried and true, well tested, 1kg backpack. 

Travelling light can be wonderfully vague notion or a precise and measurable objective.  I weigh each pair of shoes... then choose the ones that go with my skirt.   Tiny toileteries and the flat, tired end of the toothpaste tube make room for a fat tub of rich, creamy, body butter. 

But by far my biggest failure in the packing light competition is books.  My lonely planet guides have all been finely sliced and sectioned.  Hotel printouts are double sided, condensed, shrunk,  adverts discarded.  Everything I leave home with is pared to the minimum.  Then I start adding a few things,..a phrase book, a magazine to read on the plane, a novel, or two, a brochure on that new bike track, maps and the latest city guide... until my bag is straining uncomfortably.