We’ve already started my pre-departure jet-lag protocol.
Our trip starts (tomorrow) with three nights in London and then over to Ljubljana, and then, with our trusty rental car (I certainly hope it’s trusty), we’ll be touring around Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia-Herzgovina and Montenegro until the end of September.
One lovely month with no fixed-address.
Because this was coming up, I made sure my calendar was free. So free, in fact, that this time leading up to our departure feels a bit like hanging in LimboLand, a no-demand time-zone where there’s no point in really starting anything due to our imminent departure.
Consequently, not much is happening at all…unless you count the ridiculous energy I spend packing.
For some reason, no matter where I’m going, or for how long, this whole packing thing commands a lot of my attention and thought. One need only look at the pile of possible outfits strewn across our bed for proof.
Probably it would not be quite as bad if I just stuffed the whole mess into a huge bag. However, I’m all about the carry-on plan. I know how freeing it is once I arrive unencumbered by staggeringly big bags and trunks. Yet, in order to achieve this carry-on Nirvana, one (at least this particular one) needs to strategize a little.
I think I’ve finally cracked the code on why it takes so much thought and why (every single time) I have to talk myself out of all the extra stuff that I inevitably want to bring. I believe it’s a form of low-grade anxiousness, a misplaced need for control, an urge to be fully prepared and ready for every outfit possibility…including unforseen and unknowable new events.
Because that’s a reasonable expectation.
Theatre-going? Dinner out? City walking all day? Hiking in the woods? Evening shoes? Beach wear? Comfy airplane clothes? Poolside? Cocktails?
My ego demands that I be perfectly suited up for every possible occasion.
So. There’s only one thing to do.
Once again, I give myself a good long talk about the inability to control much of anything in life, let alone all the possible props required to be properly suited for every situation. I laugh at my pride that is so touchy about wearing the wrong shoes, and then, finally, I deliver this admonition:
“Colleen,” I say, as kindly as possible, “get over yourself.”
And with that, I end up hanging most of the stuff back in the closet.
My packables are reduced to the very basics. My ego and pride are stuffed, along with my socks and panties, in the far right corner of my bag.
And with that? I’m truly Traveling Light.
Have a lovely trip. The Balkans are countries that I haven’t visited but are becoming popular and I have heard good reports about them.
About packing … well I hate it. Tends to take too much or too little.
I hope you strike the right balance.
So far so good Catherine. We’ve landed in London in the rain and my shoes are handling it all quite nicely. We plan on wandering about, and happily, I stuffed my raincoat in my carry-on so we’re golden. I love London – rain or shine.
I so wish that you’d come and pack for me. One week in London – I need your list!!
P.S. I’ve never seen you without the right shoes – you must shop wisely.
Have a fabulous time, Colleen!
Bless you Ann. We’re just taking out the trash, the compost & the recycling. The apartment has been cleaned and we’ve each got our carry-on ready to roll.
Looking forward to exploring Croatia and Slovenia after our time in London.
Hopefully what I brought to wear and walk in all works…if not, I hear there’s a little shopping in London.
Carry-on Nirvana. Lovely line! I’m with you on that. It truly would be Nirvana if there were no weight stipulation. My case can be less than full but easily 5 pounds overweight. That means putting the extra in a purse/tote. Alas, no Airlines have considered the extra weight generated by an umbrella, plus a laptop, camera and chargers–important tools for writers.
I can also relate to low grade anxiety and desire to anticipate uncertainties. I worry less about clothes & shoes as comfortable & classic business dress can be taken up or down with a few accessories.
Though I must always fight the temptation to take “just a little” more, for years I’ve relied on my 8 tops, 3 bottoms & 3 shoes formula where every bottom works with every top and one of those tops is a jacket. If you layer and wear the bulkiest bits on the plane, that leaves 5 tops, two bottoms and 2 shoes in the case.
Pyjamas don’t count in the formula, but I’ve reduced those to 1 pair yoga pants and tank top which double for sleeping and exercise. Mind you, I don’t travel in winter or do winter sports. That helps.
Toiletries are all minis and easy to replace abroad. Medications are trickier. If sick while travelling, finding a pharmacy and medication when there’s no English labels is such a stressful waste of time. Then, because I rarely get sick; somehow, all the meds I stock up on “in case” before the next trip expire. I throw away a fortune in unused pills.
My first rule of packing is to take nothing that I haven’t tested or worn. Everything I take along must be comfortable and make me feel good. A colleague wasted a trip in hospital from a severe allergic reaction to a face cream she’d never tried. I prefer to learn from other people’s mistakes rather than my own.
I like your plan Lynda. I use whatever shampoo is supplied. Never take a hairdryer and use scarves to change up an outfit.
I take cheap flip flops for my ‘slippers’, for the beach/poolside and if we end up in a lousy hotel with a nasty shower. This time they happen to be a shiny-silver pair, so they’ll also be doing duty as evening wear 🙂
I’ve been really sick in so many countries and always managed to get help. That being said, I usually take along a handful of Cipro when I hit the developing nations. It seems to handle the nastiest of bugs.
And amen on the face cream story. Yikes. I just take a little travel tub of organic coconut oil. It’s my go-to for everything.