International Travel: The Generic Overview, Part II

Packing: Less = More Money to Spend

            Friends, I don’t have to go into the horrifying decline of airlines since 9/11. I don’t have to tell you how flying has become a Pandora’s Box of hidden fees and one-time deals and weight limits on checked luggage. I don’t have to describe the mess that has become TSA. But what I WILL tell you is how to either totally avoid even opening Pandora’s Box, or in the worst case how to get by with only scratching the surface: Packing light, packing smart, and for the love of milk chocolate-- FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS! 

Following instructions on domestic flights makes things run smoother. Following instructions on international flights gets you on the plane. You have a million things to worry about, so please, don’t let having to pay extra to check your carryon be one of them? Make sure you arrange your laptop and liquids in easy to reach places when you pack your carry-on: It will make security faster and for you and everyone else. I find that packing my laptop in the side pocket of my carryon by itself, and putting my liquids on top of everything else works well. After you reach your gate and if you have time to spare, you can switch things around so that you can get to your book or nook or whatever. But I still wouldn’t recommend putting your liquids on the bottom of your carryon.

            If you MUST be a rebel, at least be a rebel with a cause: Fight the stereotypes that have given American travelers a bad rap across the globe. I'll go into more detail on this later, but for now as your window into all of this, I have a few confessions to make:

            Yes, I am American. Yes, according to a study done in 2006 the average American lives a lifestyle that would take up to four complete planet Earths in natural resources to support. Yes, I am female. But one thing I am NOT willing to be is: a stereotype. So lets deal with those, shall we?

            Stereotype 1: Women have weak upper-body strength, so rolling dainty luggage bags is the best we can do.

            Whoever came up with that one never met my mother back in 1990. A standard vacation involved massive amounts of packing, and then carrying the luggage to the plane’s gate. Add to the mix a four year old, a three year old, a diaper-bag with toys, books, and clothes, a Mary Poppins-Style carpet bag purse with more child-rearing gadgets, and the BASEST of basic roller-luggage prototypes. All of that, and leading a meandering husband who was carrying his own, un-wheeled luggage down O’Hare’s hallways, and you may start to get the picture. I’m pretty sure that in those days my mother laughed in the face of “upper body strength,” made sure she knew where my brother and I were, and popped a few aspirin.

            But you don’t need the iron will of a mother of small children to overcome ordinary, un-sculpted biceps: Upper body strength can have nothing to do with how you carry your luggage—if you outfit correctly.

            I got lucky back when I went backpacking with my friends, and scored a women’s Jade 60 off of my father, who likes to shoot compound bow indoors. He goes to REI for all his sporting needs, and he had a massive discount coming his way the month before I left, and he let me use it on my back pack.

            You can go anywhere from Dick’s Sporting to even Walmart and find hiking gear, but if you have a weird back position (like me) and a small torso (like me) it really pays off to go somewhere like REI. Will you pay more? Probably. But the fitting procedure and pre-buying procedure at REI out-did all my expectations.

I was weighed, measured, then given several “maybes” to try on. Once I found my calling—an internal frame with lots of lower back support—the assistant buckled me into the backpack and proceeded to fill it with sand bags labeled for how many pounds they were. Then, he stuffed the rest of it with fluffy pillows to I could get a feel for its bulk once it was fully stuffed.

            Then I walked around the store, in the backpack, fully loaded, for an hour and a half. If I felt any discomfort, it was checked and if I felt any pain it was to be removed immediately. For reference, the backpack worked out and while they didn’t have my size in the blue color I wanted, I got an excellent fit in the green. It didn’t stop my friends from nick-naming it “the Larva” but it served me well all throughout Europe, and I hope it will serve me well again.

My Jade60 Backpack; roughly the size
of a key board

Me and The Larva, Holyhead England

Q: Why a backpack? I mean, you’re spending your time at one place, not hostel hopping. What gives?

A: Have you ever had to keep track of a roller bag in dense foot traffic, escalators, and regular sidewalk mayhem? Then you know: It’s a lot of pulling, bumping into people, hoping you don’t walk off without it, and trying to make sure the wheels are turning properly.

            The backpack idea would never have occurred to me before 2010. But after experiencing first-hand the ease of having everything you need on your back and not dragging behind you on the floor, a little added awareness of how big your body has suddenly become is a fair trade. Also, a backpack doesn’t throw a wheel or decide to flip over while you’re dragging it along gravel. Just saying.

Q: But everything is just so open! At least with a roller bag, you know when someone is trying to get inside it and steal from you. With a backpack, by definition it’s on your back… did you get eye surgery so you could see behind you or something?

A: No eye surgery for me, thanks. And I have it on good authority that only Mothers and other adults in charge of children have eyes in the back of their heads, and I’m not there quite yet.

            The cunning thing about the backpack I have is that for virtually every opening, there is a place for a lock. A key lock, a combo lock, whatever—not necessarily the school-locker sized lock, but definitely the smaller ones. I prefer combo locks with letters, and I know vocab and verbs of at least five languages. The pickpocket who can crack my locks without me noticing deserves my dirty underthings in all their soiled glory.

            **Side Note**

            Another great thing about REI and places like it are the massive shoe selection. I hate shopping for shoes, but I know that walking that amount of distance you need a pair that you can rely on. Not only that, but with limited space I needed a pair I could stand to be seen in.  REI carries all the basics, as well as some seriously cute shoes and sandals you would expect out of DSW or an actual boutique, not a store for the outdoors:

           

Jambu Coral- REI

Vasque Moss Brown Hiking- REI

Keen Harvest Stripe- REI

Stereotype 2: Americans cannot travel “light.” We all hail from Texas when it comes to our luggage—Bigger is better.

   

Alright, I’ll give you that one. Most Americans DO have a lot of baggage when going away. But there are a few tricks to getting the same or little less clothing into a smaller bag than your biggest suitcase. When looking for ways to pack, my friend Alison came across this amazing slide show from the New York Times that pretty much changed my travel-life forever:

  Flight Attendant: How to Pack for Ten Days

Isn’t it simply brilliant?! And the best part is no wrinkles, no crease lines. Another way to go is the plastic bags that suction out all the air. They’re not the ones you see on TV that have to use a hose as a vacuum, though you can; instead, my friend Melanie used her own power to squeeze out all the air she could from inside the bag. I can’t say if it made much difference, but she packed less than I did and had a smaller bag.

This leaves you with room for accessories and other items that can’t be rolled up—and all fitting nicely inside a bag that will leave people wondering if you really ARE American or not.

My only other tip is to coordinate outfits before you go. I have a three-gig-rule: No matter HOW cute or trendy the clothing, if it can’t be re-worn with other clothing items in at least two different ensembles it goes in NO pile. Two ensembles gets a maybe, and three ensembles gets put in the YES pile.

The only exceptions to this rule are specific wear that I need for a specific event. Say, a formal night where a dress that cannot be mixed with anything else is needed. Or in this case, my yukata, obi and geta sandals from the Gion festival—specialty wear, but if I needed it for a festival I would bring it, despite not matching with anything else. 

Another way to lengthen the wear of any of your clothing is to buckle down and actually come prepared to wash your clothes.

 

            Some hotels have laundry services, some don't. But if you bring color-safe powdered detergent and skip the luxury of fabric softener, you would be surprised what you can accomplish in a hotel sink. My friends and I washed our underthings and most-worn camisoles, as well as a few other items in a hotel sink in Venice, and didn't ruin a thing. All you need is:

1. Powdered detergent, preferably with color-safe bleach for the best clean

2. Clips of some kind-- you can get 25 cheap clothesline clips in a bag at Michaels really easily

3. A sturdy rope-- You can find them at Walmart in the household section or even the DIY 

section. Whatever you get, make sure it can hold at least five pounds.

First and foremost: ANYONE WHO NEEDS A SHOWER SHOULD TAKE ONE BEFORE HAND. You will be using whatever towels you can get your hands on for drying clothes, so make sure to take your own hygiene above your clothing's.

Basically, step one: Turn the sink into a washing basin. Decide on hot or cold water, and pour in some detergent. Most detergents have an amount written on the pack. If not, eyeball it and wait until you think its sufficiently soapy/saturated. Don't fill it to the brim, though: You'll be adding clothes to that!

Wash items that don't need a good soaking first. Yes, this will involve MANUAL LABOR. But before the Maytag we all would go down to the river and scrape away with rocks and what not: think of it as an exercise in getting back to your roots. 

**If the water becomes discolored or murky, repeat the first step. You may have to clean out the sink before refilling it**

In order to rinse your clothing, it's best to utilize the shower if you can. Showers have pressure, and can take care of getting irritating soap out of clothing fibers better than dunking clothes in clean water and wringing them out. Just because you're going less high-tech doesn't mean you let your standards drop: Otherwise, what was the point in washing your clothes at all?

Once you've washed all your non-soak items, empty, thoroughly clean and refill the sink for anything that needs to be soaked. You can time them if you need to, but we just let stuff sit until stains started coming off with minimal scrubbing. 

While your clothing is soaking, its time to start thinking about drying. Here, the shower comes in handy again. Wring out excess moisture as much as possible inside the shower where it will drain away, before laying clothes flat on top of a spread out towel, preferably on a bed. During this time you should strategically hang the rope you have across the room as securely and tautly as possible. Be sure that people can still get to their beds and the bathroom, though--you'll be hanging wet stuff from that line very soon.

Once excess water is taken care of, it's time to hang your things to dry. Use the same, damp towels  and place them on the floor under the clothes line. It won't look pretty, but it will save the carpet and save your balance if your floor is tiled (like ours was). The final step is to go back and finish up your soaked garments, wring them out, then add them to the line. Given time and temperature, your thiner items should dry overnight. Heavier items will take longer, though.