I mentioned in a previous post that Sean and I are planning on traveling carry-on only during our worldwide adventure. Now that the packing phase is officially underway, here’s a deep-dive into how we plan on making it happen.
The suitcases
This required the most consideration by far. The first choice we had to make was the style of bag we’d bring with us. We decided against large backpacker bags because they seemed like a logistical nightmare—I imagined all of my essentials buried at the bottom or tucked in a faraway corner. Sean briefly floated the idea of duffels until I intervened. (I very much dislike slinging a bulky bag over my shoulder and banging it into people as I huff through crowded airports and train stations.) Roller bags can be tricky on cobblestones and rural roads, but we’ve never had issues with our larger roller bags on past trips, and the convenience of dragging something behind us outweighed the potential for occasionally bumpy sidewalks.
The next decision was size. Whatever we purchased had to be able to fit in the world’s smallest overhead bins, which meant anything over 21 inches long was automatically out. To make it even more challenging, most dimensions listed online are for interior space, so we had to remember to add a couple of inches for wheels, handles, and the like. In the end, Sean opted for this well-reviewed Eagle Creek model (they’re perhaps the only brand that advertises exterior dimensions, and he appreciated that no-BS approach). And I discovered this magical compromise from Olympia: It’s a roller bag with hidden backpack straps. I figure I’ll be able to roll it around 90% of the time, but if conditions become unfavorable I can just unfurl the straps (and move my smaller backpack to the front like a real conspicuous tourist).
Hacks, strategies, and special gear
While almost everyone touts the benefits of the roll method for packing the most clothes into the least amount of space, I’ve actually had great luck with Marie Kondo’s style of folding. (I fit twice as many t-shirts in a drawer at home when I switched to this technique, so I know it’s a major space-saver.) I am, however, totally on board with most other tried-and-true strategies for traveling light:
Packing cubes: It took me a loooong time to see the value of packing cubes, but I finally tested them out (along with the Marie Kondo fold) on our trip to Morocco earlier this year, and ho boy! They are an organizational dream! I used the biggest one for jackets, pants, and sweaters/long sleeves; the middle one for shirts; and the smallest one for underwear. I never had to tear my bag apart to find an errant article of clothing, and everything stayed nicely folded and (mostly) wrinkle-free. They make fancy compression ones if you really want to save space, but I just used a standard issue style that I got free from work. (Similar to these.)
Collapsible water bottles: We were completely and totally amazed the first time we saw one of these. A water bottle that rolls up to the size of your palm when it’s empty? SOLD!
Quick-dry socks: Sean likes Darn Tough brand for everyday wear and hiking. They’re made of a wool blend, so they’re breathable and air-dry overnight. I wear these no-shows with my Keds and Sperrys—they dry lightning fast and have somehow never gotten holes or lost their rubbery heel grip, even after five years of very regular use. The slip-on Keds I’m taking aren’t meant to flatten, so stuffing two or three pairs of socks in each shoe helps them hold their shape and fills space that otherwise wouldn’t be used.
Travel underwear: I’ve collected five pairs of ExOfficio unmentionables over the years, and I love how easy they are to hand-wash and hang dry. But I recently discovered that regular old lace knickers also air-dry just as fast and are about $10-$15 cheaper. Sean likes Uniqlo’s AIRism line for underwear and undershirts. They’re dirt cheap and just as functional as pricey ExOfficios.
I’ve long prided myself on my ability to pack light, but I’ve never taken it quite this far. I feel pretty good about our chances of pulling it off, but I also reserve the right to revisit this post after the first leg of our journey and laugh derisively about any major fails.
What’s the first thing you think of when I say Colombia? Cocaine? Pablo Escobar? Narcos? FARC? Terrorism? That’s fair. But what if I told you everything you thought you knew about the country is wrong?