Travel Essentials: What to Pack

The most important thing I carried took up the least amount of space.

I’m finally home after nearly six weeks of semi-solo travel that saw me waking up at dawn in a cabin outside of Oslo, Norway for a dip in a mountain lake and laying my head down that night on a 46-foot catamaran in southern England. 

After five days of living on my brother’s boat, I finally got my sea legs.

What do you carry with you on a trip that has you hiking in the Alps, attending a relative’s confirmation, visiting museums, and living on a sailboat? I had to pack for temperatures that cruised above 80 degrees and dropped to nearly freezing with a few rainy days thrown in for good measure. All without checking a bag – because the only thing worse than being caught in a thunderstorm is being caught in a thunderstorm without your raingear. I couldn’t risk the airlines losing my luggage.

Nicholas Kristof recently wrote an article encouraging readers to venture further afield in their travels to avoid the ire of countries experiencing over-tourism. He included a list of what to pack on these adventure-filled holidays. In that same spirit, I’ve noted a few items I’m so glad I packed and one I wish I had – as well as a few “souvenirs” I brought home.

By far, the most important thing I tossed in my bag was a battery pack to charge my phone and laptop. No matter where I was, I knew I could charge my phone. That’s peace of mind in a small (albeit heavy) package. 

I brought an eye mask and ear plugs both were useful for cocooning myself into a world of silence and darkness when I found myself in places where the sun didn’t set until after 10 pm or wanting to drown out the crying child in row 23. Still looking for that perfect neck pillow, so let me know in the comments if you’ve found one.

I was surprised to find that several airport security checkpoints in Europe allow only one small bag of liquids. I ended up throwing out extra toothpaste, shampoo, moisturizer, and mosquito repellent. Fortunately, I was able to pick up a small bottle of Nuxe Huile Prodigieuse oil at the duty-free store, which I slathered on both my body and face for the rest of the trip. I brought a roll-on sunscreen, which was easy to carry, apply, and didn’t count as a liquid. Bonus!

Finally, I’m at an age where I need glasses but am a kid in a mudbath when it comes to keeping them clean. My stash of disposable lens wipes meant I could actually see the Alps, the majestic cathedral hosting my cousin’s confirmation, and where to put my feet when stepping off the boat.

I wouldn’t have wanted to miss this view…

So, those are the things I reached for consistently. What do I wish I’d packed? I brought a lot of rain gear and was glad I did. Southern Europe may be experiencing a heat wave, but northern Europe is decidedly chilly and wet. I failed to pack a rain cover for my daypack though, so I stayed dry the day we hiked through a thunderstorm, but my gear was soaked. (BTW, although daypacks may never make a fashion statement, I saw lots of European women carrying them to work, so they don’t scream “American” as much as I feared). 

Glad we brought raingear!

What I would have left at home? I used everything I packed except for my first aid kit, but I’m not sorry I carried it. Still, lugging around a full backpack doesn’t leave room for souvenirs. No worries. I brought back so many photos, memories, and new friends. And, as so often happens with travel, I also picked up new perspectives. 

I spent an evening talking with an Israeli journalist about the situation in the Middle East and then a few days later threaded my way through an opposing, but equally fraught, perspective with friends in Norway. My head – and heart – are still spinning.

While chatting with my cousin at breakfast one morning, he interrupted our conversation to go help his wife hang laundry out in the backyard. Later he took a detour home from our dinner to fill her car with gas. When the youngest found an injured baby bird, her mom spent an entire day helping the young girl nurse it back to health. Meanwhile, my cousin showed his 15-year-old son how to repair an old Saab. I watched all this, taking mental notes on how I, too, could be gentler, kinder, and more joyful in my interactions with My Dear Husband and kids.

I savored the intentionality I saw on my visits with family and friends: candles for everyday dinners, flowers on window sills and kitchen tables, afternoon coffee breaks, bikes or public transit for errands. Perhaps there is something about living in countries where six-week vacations, free health care, and guaranteed pensions are the norm that make weaving little pleasures into daily life easier.  But I hope to unpack it in my own life.

I was gone for nearly six weeks. That’s a long time to be away from a marriage. I wondered how My Dear Husband would manage (without me). I felt guilty – wouldn’t you? For spending so much money on something just for me. Would he resent that I was having so much fun while he was home watering the plants? 

We’d learned to live together. Could we also learn to live apart?

Let me just say – and this is just me – absence does not make the heart grow fonder. We both learned that serious decisions and heavy conversations should not happen over the phone or, god forbid, in a text. Admittedly, it doesn’t help when your partner starts the conversation by Facetiming in front of a glacier and the cutest pink church. In Italy. Before you’ve even had your first cup of coffee. Yeah. Things did not go well. For several nights, I went to sleep reciting uncharitable Italian phrases about husbands that I’d learned on the trail. 

Facetiming with this in the background? Not fair.

In actuality, the trip was an opportunity for both of us to expand our horizons and pursue our passions. MDH bought a new road bike and spent hours cycling around Portland. Usually willing to let me take the lead on filling up our social calendar, he started reaching out to people, inviting them over for dinner, meeting them for wine, and joining them for baseball games. With time to fill, he volunteered more at the local tool library, tried new hobbies, experimented with new recipes, and built a fence in the backyard. 

It turns out that both of us do quite well on our own. 

When he picked me up at the airport, he wrapped his arms around me, and I felt his newfound energy and confidence. I realized that the most essential thing I carried was love for this man who felt secure enough to let me fly and strong enough to hold me when I returned.

I’d love to know what your travel essentials are — leave a comment.