Here I go again

A small part of the packing for 2 months in the UK - cat not included

Just about a year after the last packing photo, here I go again: 

• piling up stuff, wrangling gear lists; 

• trying to figure out likely weather; 

• working out how many combinations of clothing and layers can get me through an unseasonably warm UK summer into autumn, through hiking and socialising; 

• getting on and off public transport - so the bags have to be small (no lovely Indian porters and kind locals to take pity on an elderly tourist on this trip). 

Himalayas: the wrap

Remember this photo? What was useful? What should I not have
bothered with?

Six months after coming back from the Himalayas - time for a quick review of how that huge pile of packing worked over a long trip.

Most useful item?

I'd like to say it was the Vegemite. The tube lasted me the whole trip and when times were tough, a smear of brown salty yeast by-product on toast hit the spot. But I could have got by without it.

Without doubt, I couldn't have got by without the Exped inflatable extra-light mattress. I only spent one night in a tent - but right from the first night in a Lhasa hotel, through the whole of Ladakh, and into Dharamsala - the guest house mattresses are solid boards. The only way I (and my mate Glenys later on) got a decent night's sleep was to put the Exped on top of the mattress. 
My Kathmandu thermos mug gets an honourable mention.

A quart into a pint pot - packing it all

My overwhelming pile of stuff. Do I really need 2 tubes of
Vegemite and a sketch book with 5 pencils?

An hour into the first Jaws movie: Roy Scheider is cheerfully shovelling burley into the ocean from the shark-catching boat owned by Quint (Robert Shaw). Without warning, without fanfare, the truck-sized head of the monster shark pokes above the waves, jaws gaping, teeth bared. Shocked and appalled, Scheider's character turns to the skipper in the wheelhouse and murmurs, 

"I think we're going to need a bigger boat."

Two tiny bags

I reached that stage in my packing last week. 

Larger than a monster shark, the mountain of accumulated stuff on the spare bedroom floor loomed over my two tiny empty bags, which looked hopelessly inadequate. 

Laundry on the road

Travel laundry challenges that happened to me and fellow travellers:

Typical hotel laundry costs -
but at least this one offers
to wash your monk robe and
safari suit

• It took me one whole week to dry my wet jeans in an Iceland summer
• Meg says she has to stay 2 nights everywhere just so she can dry t-shirts
• Felicity sent her travel pants to the Moroccan hotel laundry, who set them on fire.

But you can travel with a small bag of clothes - or even just cabin baggage - and keep moving from place to place once you figure out how to wash and dry items overnight, without running up outrageous hotel laundry bills (or having your clothes charred beyond use).

Imelda Marcos in the Himalayas - what shoes shall I pack?

From the Pyrenees to the Himalayas, my boots have
seen a lot of the world.

Planning travel footwear needs thought.

Clothes are soft, fold flat, roll up, squish down and you can wear a lot of layers if you run out of room in your luggage. 

Shoes, on the other hand, take up a lot of space in a bag and you can only wear one pair at a time.

Choosing a pared-back footwear list has been a challenge during my packing planning. For someone who prefers to walk around barefoot, I already have way too many pairs of shoes lurking in my closet: heeled courts for a woman who has poor balance and dodgy ankles; two pairs of tango shoes although I haven't danced Latin for 10 years, four pairs of streetwear boots even though I live in sweaty Brisbane.

The last trip for my Keens. Despite
the wear on the heel, they will
have a new life with a friend on
the Granite Belt.

In this Himalayan adventure, I plan to travel across deserts, over mountain passes and around mountains, up and down valleys and across streams, through markets and towns and villages. I don't plan to go clubbing, dancing or going to cocktail parties - but why rule out the possibility?

What shall I take to wear on my feet? How shall I choose which pairs to take and whether to buy new pairs?

Picking a pack - how will I carry my gear?

My new Osprey Kyte, 33 L
of useful pack.

Goldilocks had it easy. Choosing a bowl of porridge for one meal or a bed for a single night means a bad choice only lasts a short time.

But I'm trying to make a decision about which bags will carry my gear across the Himalayas for months. What I choose will affect how I live, where I can fly, whether I'll keep my gear secure, and whether I'll suffer a bad back in this trip. 

These are the factors that I have to think about. Some airlines we have booked only allow 20kg maximum checked luggage so I've got to get the best value out of cabin luggage. My packing list is getting longer and longer and longer - I've realised I can't carry on my back all the bits and pieces I need for the simple nomads' life we have planned.