The art of packing light

I am a fanatic.  To me, packing light is a challenge and a joy.  It requires study, self awareness, and discipline.  It also provides a path for continuous improvement.  The reward of this zen-like activity is freedom.  Freedom to reach any destination without a hotel reservation.  Freedom to hop on any form of transportation, from a crowded subway in Barcelona to the back-seat of a motorbike in Vietnam.

To Naomi, and others who would like to experience the joy, here are some rules.

Rule number one:Take only what you KNOW you need.
Buddhists and logic purist will be quick to point out that you can never know the future.  Trust yourself.  You'll know when you know.  If in doubt, leave it out.  Do not be tempted by "Just in Case" items.  Allow for some discomfort.  If expecting large climate variations, consider buying locally.  For example, instead of carrying a parka on a six-month Asia trip, I bought one (for a couple of bucks) after arriving in the Vietnam Highlands.  In the process, I visited the village market, haggled like the locals, and practiced my Vietnamese vocabulary (The numbers, one to twenty).  Two weeks later, in the Mekong Delta, I discarded  the jacket.
Do consider the consequences of not having an item.  I will always carry a poncho on an overnight hike in the Sierra Nevada, while getting wet in Paris, can be romantic.

Rule number two:  Plan on layers
Any item of clothing should be part of a plan.  Three light layers, topped by a light rainproof shell are sufficient for most Summer travel.  At the low end of the temperature range, all your items should be on your body, not in the pack.

Rule number three:  Use only synthetic materials.
No cotton.  Nylon wicks moisture away from the body and dries quickly.  It is easy to wash, and is ready to wear in the morning.  Down, the most compact insulation material available, is the only exception to this rule.


Rule number four:  Choose the right luggage.
Any container will get overfilled.  Therefore, the right size is slightly smaller than what you think you need.
My preferred style is an internal-frame backpack, with straps that can be tucked inside.  Wheels are evil.

Results
Using these rules on a trip that included both Southern Spain and Norway, my pack (without the computer) weighed six kilos.  Adi needs skin care products, and her pack weighed less than eight kilos.  The list of everything I took is shown below.  We think that next trip, the list can be slightly reduced.

Upper Layer
  T shirt -3
  Long T
  Long sleeve shirt
  Windproof fleece jacket
  Light rainproof shell with hood
Lower Layer
  Underwear -3
  Long john (light)
  Swim trunks (can act as short pants)
  Long pants (Next trip, maybe revert to two pants)
Head-wear
  Sun hat
  Warm cap (Important to hair-challenged men)
Footwear
  Black running socks -3
  Covered-toe sandals.  (Usable both in the city and mountain hikes)
  Thongs
Toiletry
  Silk sleeping sheet
  Towel (Synthetic)
  Soap and case
  Tooth brush and paste
  Shaving razor (Not Mach 3) and gel
  Deodorant stick
  Nail clip
Other
  Mosquito repellent
  Sun block
  Sun glasses
  Small assortment of first aid items
  Folding knife
  Headlamp
  Pen and memo pad
  Adi's neck pillow
Communications
  Reading glasses
  10" Netbook computer
  Earphones -2, with a splitter jack
  Kindle (For the guide books)
Luggage
  Passport/money pouch
  Small day-pack
  Internal-Frame backpack  54x33x25 cm.  (Eagle Creek does not make them that small any more)

Adi packed almost the same, with the following exceptions
  Only two T-shirts
  Black travel dress
  Hiking shoes
  Slippers

Pack light and be happy.

Pilgrim

I saw him sipping his morning coffee.  A fit, suntanned man, wearing a trimmed white beard, and neatly pressed travel-wear.  Behind him, the dramatic view of Muxia Bay marked the western edge of  the continent.  I picked up a cafe-con-leche at the bar and was about to carry it to my room when I heard him call.
"Would you care to join me?"
His eyes were as blue as the Ocean, and I could not refuse the friendliness in his voice.  I  spent the rest of the day with Jonathan.  This is his story.

You called me Peregrino?
I am not sure I would call myself a pilgrim.  I didn't do it for religious reasons.  I started in [St Jean-]Pied-de-Port, and walked five weeks to reach [Santiago De] Compostela.  I am waiting for my girlfriend to get here.  On the last day, descending to Compostela, my knees went out.  She was going to join me for the last leg, from Compostela to the Ocean.  She decided to do it alone.  I am bored here in Muxia.  Nothing to do.

I can't say that the Camino [The road to Compostela] was hard.  It's all in your mind.  When I started to walk, my mind was in a very bad shape.  I think I am ok now.  I did go to a few Vipassana [meditation] seminars.  It helped, but not enough.   Doing the Camino was the last resort.  Going over the Pyrenees to Pamplona may have been difficult.  It's a steep trail, sharp winds...  I can hardly remember any of it.  I was going crazy thinking about my girlfriend.  Mainly blaming myself for what happened.  We have been together for more than a year.  I love her very much, maybe too much.
You know how it is, when you really need someone?

I couldn't live without her.  I am sure she loves me too.  We had a wonderful relationship.  I didn't understand how she could break it up.  We had a catering business in Milwaukee, until she kicked me out.  It was actually her business, but I thought I was pulling my weight.  She said I hit her.  I don't know, maybe I did.  That night... the police came... it was ugly.  The next day, I collected my stuff, and moved in with my mother in San Diego.
Can you imagine a forty-six year old guy, living with his mother?

I stayed with my mom, because I couldn't function.  I was totally helpless.  I called Josie every night. She was annoyed.  Finally, she called me crazy, and told me not to call again.  I was crazy, I was sick.  Alcoholism is a disease, you know.  I drank a lot, I was dealing too.  I didn't notice as it got worse.

I do remember the Roman bridge at Puente del Reina.  It was early morning, the river was mirror-calm and the sun was just rising.  The round arches formed a perfect reflection in the water.  The two images joined to make the symbol for Infinity.  I realized that it's all a journey, nothing begins and nothing really ends.  I saw the holes the Romans built into the columns.  They allow the water to flow thorough without toppling the bridge.  I decided to make my mind the same way.
You are smiling?

That's ok.  It worked for me.

Over the following days, I gradually stopped obsessing about the past.  Instead, as I crossed the rolling hills and endless vineyards, I was obsessing on how to get Josie back.  Plans can drive you crazy too, but not as bad.

Talking about vineyards.  Did you visit the Irache Monastery?

I think that placing a fountain dispensing free wine, in front of an alcoholic, is a cruel joke.  Just kidding.

The alcohol thing was not easy.  They talk about the camaraderie of fellow travelers?  It develops at the hostels, over a glass of beer, or two.  A few times I almost broke down.  Eventually I learned to stay by myself.  In Burgoss, after visiting the gorgeous Cathedral, I called Josie.  She was calm, and was pleased to hear that I am doing the Camino.  She told me that if I get myself together, get a job, be able to support her, she will come and live with me by the beach.  She hates the cold in Milwaukee.  We decided that she would take a vacation, meet me in Compostela, and we will walk the last leg together.  After that, we'll see.

The road from Burgoss to Leon is flat, yellow, and hot.  Nothing to do or see.  No distractions.  To me it became like walking meditation.  I just focused on my steps.  I stopped obsessing about the past, I stopped worrying about the future.  I just walked.  When I reached the Leon Cathedral I was ready to absorb it.  The whole Cathedral enveloped in stained glass...  I was stunned.  First you feel the colors, than I walked around looking the images.  I sat under the incredibly tall arches, letting it sink in.  I don't know for how long.  At some point, I just knew that high above, there is someone looking after me.  A few days later, I reached the "Iron Cross".  At the start, like everyone else, I picked up a stone  and put it in my backpack.  Following tradition, I guess; nothing more.  Yet, as I tossed that stone on the large pile surrounding the cross, I felt that I got rid of my sickness.  I felt light, I was well.


The climb into Galicia felt easy.  I enjoyed the green hills and little hamlets.  Until that last hill.  My knees were so bad, I could hardly make it to the Cathedral.  I met Josie.  She was a bit formal, cool. I kind of expected it.  She decided to walk alone.  I am sure she is doing a lot of thinking, but I am not worried.  Whatever she decides, I know I will be fine.

I agreed with him.  He will be OK.