How to pack for a yearlong trip
Choosing a credit card, picking first-aid supplies among things to consider
You know those paisley Vera Bradley duffles beloved by sorority sisters and grandmas nationwide? I dragged one with me for the first four legs of my impossible, wonderful 52 Places trip because it was the only luggage I owned that fit all the things I thought I needed. It went home just before I left the United States, which made up the first few legs of my trip, along with some 20 pounds of clothes, according to my luggage scale. (I eventually ditched that, too.)
Blogs, travel writers, foreign correspondent friends and flight attendants all gave me great advice, but the past five months of hopscotching through climates and national borders have been figuring out what works for me, with trial — and a ton of error. Here are my most important take-aways on packing and prepping for longterm solo travel.
1. Pick a card. Not just any card
I got so stressed out about packing and starting a new job that I totally overlooked what I needed most: the proper credit cards to make sure I had access to money at all times. Not having those before I left was the single biggest headache of the early part of this trip. I had to wait 40 days to get approved for a Chase Sapphire Reserve — widely considered the best card for international travel, despite its $450 (U.S.) annual fee (you can make it up with a $300 annual travel credit and quick points accumulation) — and instead use a Citibank Prestige ($450 annual fee, and similar benefits) that only came with a $7,000 limit. Between the costs of this trip, and huge deposits required by Latin American rental car companies, I was paying down my balance every other day.
Points and perks are great, but you need cards that work in real life. Look for something without foreign transaction fees, and a card with chip + PIN capabilities since you can’t use automated kiosks in Europe without one.
2. Picking a bag? Decide on your travel personality
First, ask the question: What kind of traveller am I? Rugged backpacker? Chic minimalist with a spinner bag? Then pick luggage that helps you realize that. I’m a grown-woman, multimedia journalist hauling (and keeping an eye on) all my own stuff. So I needed the most compact, most capacious bags I could actually lift myself. My kit: a roller carry-on for clothes and toiletries, a backpack for some 20 pounds of computing and camera gear, and a small purse because I don’t know how to live without one.
3. Manage your menstruation like a boss
As important as credit cards are, my number one concern going into this trip was: What happens when I get my period? Like many people with a uterus, it sometimes ruins my life for up to a week every month. I hardly ever see it mentioned in travel writing, which is over- whelmingly dominated by men. OB Ultra Tampons, the only ones that work for my heavy flow, are hard enough to find in New York City, let alone on the road. So I’ve been trying menstrual cups (greater capacity, reusable) paired with Thinx (cutest of the period underwear I tried; order a size up) — and the results have been dismaying. I’ve bled on clothes and hotel sheets from Montgomery, Ala., to Oslo. Emptying the cup in public restrooms is also an embarrassing dance I haven’t mastered.
There’s a definite upside to cups. On my one successful week, I went on an eight-hour hike in Peru and never once had to squat behind a bush to change a tampon. But you need a lot of test runs before hitting the road. One menstrual-cup advocate told me it took her three years to find the right fit! 4. If you cherish it, leave it at home High heels, bomber jackets, good dresses and my favourite leather handbag all went in the first shipment home. My new motto: A trip like this will ruin any object you love. Since then I’ve lived out of my LeSportsac Essential Crossbody purse. It’s virtually theft-proof and holds all my essentials (wallet, phone, external batteries, Ray-Bans, lip balm, passport) in well-organized compartments. Plus, it’s washable, which has proved crucial in disasters involving powdered sunscreen and melted chocolate. 5. Pick bags that can take a beating For a suitcase, I very intentionally chose a two-wheeled Briggs & Riley Baseline International Carry-On. It’s a tad heavy (9.13 pounds) and expensive ($399 wholesale). But it also has a unique soft-bodied design that makes it roomy and easy to pack. I can sit on it in train stations, drag it over cobblestones and check it whenever I want. Plus, its sturdy two wheels won’t roll away from me if I get distracted, which gives me one extra layer of protection against theft.
Backpacks were trickier, but I’m happy with the third one I bought, the $170 Osprey Fairview 40, which features a spinesaving aluminum frame, waistband and chest strap. (Remember to get a rain cover.) 6. Pretend you’re fleeing a world disaster You know those go-bags you keep in your closet to grab and run when the baby is coming, or when the apocalypse hits? The same concept applies to intense travel. Assume you have to walk out the door in five minutes and won’t come back for 12 hours. My purse is always ready with my Sony RX100 camera; my charger for its terrible battery; two portable batteries; two wall-charging blocks; a converter plug; and both a micro-USB and an iPhone cord. Plus tampons, of course. 7. Find a uniform Default to comfort over style. Stick to black and neutrals, for easier mixing and matching — and better hiding of stains. Add colour through jewelry and scarves. Also, pick fabrics like merino wool that are anti-wrinkle, dry quickly and don’t retain smells.
My staples: Hanky Panky retro thong underwear (wide lace waistband that doesn’t create a muffin top); SmartWool and Darn Tough socks; Chantelle and True Body Lift bras; a sports bra; this great Arcteryx Cala dress in black; something long-sleeved for sun protection; and a retro one-piece Esther Williams bathing suit that works for going out when paired with black shorts from Joy in London.
From the waist down, it’s all about leggings. For casual and travel days, I wear Outdoor Voices 7/8 Warmup Leggings in deep-sea blue. All other days I’m in Wolford Velour Leggings — elegant, velvety soft multitaskers that may be the single greatest clothing purchase I’ve made in years ($425, though I got them on discount). They’ve even kept me warm hiking in Patagonia and Iceland. I may never wear jeans again. 8. Choose your shoes wisely Shoes are notoriously tough to pack. To make the cut in my bag they have to serve multiple functions, feel comfortable, pack easily, stand up to water and dirt and look OK. Right now I have blue Altra Escalantes for walking (clouds for my feet!); black Columbia Fire Venture Mid Waterproof hiking boots for outdoor excursions and rainy days; and Reef flip-flops. (Make sure you like the look of those boots because you’ll be wearing them on most flights to avoid packing them.) 9. Make your own winter coat If a lifetime of skiing and snowboarding has taught me anything, it’s that layers beat bulk. My second skin is a super-thin Ibex merino wool sweater-jacket that a good friend gave me (Athleta has similar options). Heat Holder fleece lined tights can be worn on their own or under leggings. A Brazilian Canga scarf (a gift from 52 Places finalist Shannon Sims) doubles as sarong and a towel.
In place of a winter coat, I pair two jackets: my flattering teal and navy Salomon Halo Down Jacket II and an urbanite-cool K-Way Jacques Plus Rain Jacket. The combo kept me dry-ish in Chile and Iceland and doubles as a pillow. 10. Get foreign correspondents to design your first-aid kit Two reporter friends, Heidi Vogt, who has lived in Afghanistan and both East and West Africa, and Jean H. Lee, an expert on North Korea, were my packing gurus, so I melded their suggestions with a few tricks of my own. Beyond the basics (Band-Aids, antibacterial oint- ment, ibuprofen), you want: Lavender oil for bug bites. Loperamide (Imodium), Cipro and oral rehydration salts for the inevitable GI issues. And Travelan, which you take before meals to prevent the inevitable.
A SteriPEN water purifier, which came in handy when I was holed up in hotels in South America with no bottled water around.
Lacrosse ball for rolling on sore muscles (a physical therapy trick). 11. Cut your toiletries by two-thirds Besides clothes, most of what I eliminated in my first purge were beauty products. As long as I have sunscreen, bug spray and, yes, tampons — all can be tough to find when you need them — I’m winning. Lotion should be multipurpose (Embryolisse Lait-Crème works for hands and face). Whenever possible, replace liquids with powders or solids. Get a Violife Slim Sonic battery-operated toothbrush (every seasoned lady traveller I know has one). Mascara and a red lip pencil that won’t melt has been all the makeup I’ve needed. 12. The war on chafing Like many women who like wearing dresses, I spend my summers combating “chub rub” — the irritation that comes from your sweaty inner thighs rubbing together. Imperative: two pairs of Spanx Thinstincts, which are like lightweight bike shorts that prevent skin-toskin contact, and a stick of Megababe, which you apply when you don’t want to wear the Spanx. (Stick deodorant and baby powder also work.) 13. Keep a plane routine Travel days are always when I lose things. So I try to make them my personal Groundhog Day; the more militant the sameness, the more I’ll notice if anything is off. Same hotel check out procedure, same outfit, same flight accessories. On my always list: Compression socks — the best I’ve tried are from Cep Compression — and noise-cancelling earbuds (I use them for transcribing interviews), though you don’t need super expensive ones.