First world problems - luggage woes

I have a love/hate relationship with luggage. The one and only situation (apart from diarrhea) I absolutely hate about travelling, that gets me snapping at loved ones, kicking the street curb and cursing the universe (embarrassingly this actually happens), is having too much luggage.

It always appears worse when you unpack and your luggage seems to multiply itself.

Theoretically, I want to travel light, with only the most essential items. I idealise myself as a digital nomad, a hunter gather in the 21st century, carrying all my worldly possessions on my back, self sufficient, free from modern societies material pressures.

What your wardrobe/house looks like when you have to carry it everywhere on your back: like a nomad - or hermit crab.

Conversely, I also want all the comforts a house full of contents, a decent income and access to a developed market economy can provide. Specific items for niche situations make my life sooo much more agreeable (not to mention wearing the same outfit and/or footwear across all social situations is a fashion faux pais). Running shoes are required for exercise, jandals for the beach, a nice shirt for the bar, a cheese grater for parmesan on pasta, surround sound noise cancelling headphones for music and video...

Its important to always look smart — even at the beach

Realistically, I exist somewhere in the middle. The bare essentials comprise of what I can squeeze into a carry on bag (7kg weight limit) and what I can carry on my back in a hiking pack (23kg weight limit) without causing myself permanent injury while man handling both.

My luggage woes are exponentially exasperated when I travel for specific activities, for long times, or across multiple hemispheres and climates. Trekking requires; boots, a tent, sleeping bag and mat, rain jacket, cooker, utensils, knife, compass etc… Trekking in Spain requires; sandals, shorts, sun hat, sunscreen, sunglasses etc.. whereas hiking in Nepal will require a different type of clothing and footwear: boots, jacket, thermal base layers, gloves etc... Rock climbing requires: helmut, harness, rope, carabiners, quick draws, water bottle, slings etc… but mountain climbing requires; hard boots, crampons, ice axe, harness, helmut, puffer jacket, extra socks, waterproof pants etc… India is muggy, humid and temperatures can reach 40+ degrees celsius. Iceland is literally freezing, raining and the temperature drops below zero. Scuba diving requires: … you get the point.

Trekking gear X 2 (blue pack and suitcase -hold luggage), rock climbing equipment (green bag extra luggage: $120 NZD), city/exercise clothes (carry on). This picture was taken just before leaving for the airport.

While some of this gear can double up and be used for multiple activities it still amounts to a huge load. If you want to do anything fun while travelling you must either be rich enough to buy or hire it all on location, enslave a sherpa/mule (which makes getting through customs difficult), or be prepared to deal with the logistics of kilograms and kilograms of gear.

Imagine this real life scenario;

you arrive in a foreign city after 30+ hours of air travel. You are over tired and exhausted. You don’t speak the local language and you don’t have any local currency. Your accommodation is 2.3 kms away from the train station. Because your legs are not broken, you have no money and you think you are travelling light, your sleep deprived brain decides a walk will be good for you after sitting for so long on the plane. This is despite it being 30 degrees celsius and you are wearing winter clothes because it was 4 degrees in Iceland where you in flew form.

Clothes and equipment that were necessary for survival a plane flight ago are suddenly no longer appropriate (and heavy).

Your pack weighs the maximum hold luggage allowance, which is a quarter of your body weight. Your extra carry on bag weighs the maximum carry on allowance, which makes it unbalanced, bulky and annoying. You leave the station under heavy load, (looking like that sherpa or pack mule you wanted to hire) and immediately you start to sweat. Under your winter clothes you are wearing a nice dress shirt, because you thought this would make you appear less like a drug dealer when coming through customs with so much luggage. This is your only nice shirt and you would like to preserve it so you have something formal to wear that will result in not getting refused entry to restaurants or bars. Unfortunately, your shirt is the first casualty of your idealist self delusion.

Selfie: the beginnings of significant discomfort hinted at on the authors face.

You struggle on. Your pack, which was masquerading as light, now reveals its true weight, cutting into your shoulders. It feels like gravity has increased. Your carry-on bag won’t stay on either shoulder due the shoulder straps of your hiking pack. Every 10 steps, it slips off and you catch it with one arm in a 7kg jerk just before it hits the ground. Who needs the gym? You begin mentally deciding what is totally essential and what you will throw out as soon as you get to your accommodation. Your torn arm muscles are the second casualty of your self deception.

Travel companions with lighter loads disappear in the distance or wait frustrated at traffic lights for you to catch up. Local school children point and laugh in their foreign language - or that’s what you assume they are doing. You sweat more and begin to smell a little. Your body odour is multiplied by 30+ hours of flying and you wish for a shower. Hygiene becomes the third casualty of your stupidity.

Due to extreme physical discomfort and ideological demoralisation things go from bad to worse. Navigation seems more difficult and you get disoriented or a little lost. Your normal cool demeanour and positive attitude rapidly deteriorates and your travel companions pay the true price of your friendship. The relationship you had before now becomes the fourth casualty of your luggage. Your bladder decides this is good time to remind you that you haven’t had a chance to go the the bathroom, since before customs at the airport.

This is nothing, remotely, like the fantasy you had of strolling casually through foreign cities, with a light bag casually slung over one shoulder.

Eventually, after numerous stops, you arrive at your accommodation. Time to make a great first impression to the reception staff/friends/fellow dorm room inmates. Dropping your luggage in a nonchalant pile like it weighed nothing you smear the sweat on your brow with the back of one hand, attempt a grin that probably appears on your face as a grimace and say something obvious and inane like, “it’s hot out there”. Everybody stops what they were doing and looks at you...you are that guy. Your pride is the fifth and final casualty of this debacle.

Back aching, but weight off your shoulders, you collapse on a bed or couch, sweaty, gross and probably smelling worse than that nomad you idealised, despite the thousand years of civilisation and hygiene that separate you.

Then you realise you will need to repeat this entire disaster tomorrow when you check out.

The solution to the farce described above is to send your heavy equipment ahead and travel light like you always intended. If you are organised and have somewhere to send it, then slow shipping is comparable or cheaper than taking extra bags on an airplane. This leaves you free to pack light, taking only a change of clothes, toiletries and gadgets. You can have your cake and eat it too. Running shoes or hiking boots await you somewhere ahead, but for now you cruise along in your brogues and clean shirt, feeling like the practised, sophisticated and efficient traveller you always thought you were.

Maybe, now, others will think that too.

Relaxed and nonchalant - with no heavy luggage in sight