It’s about time I was packing it all in

WHEN it comes to packing for a trip away I’m definitely cerebrally challenged. I’ve just come back from a four-day trip with a bag that a strongman like Conor McGregor wouldn’t be happy carrying. Thank God for the invention of wheels. I swear to myself every time that I’ll cop on the next time and each time I screw up again. Nearly all the stuff comes back unused or unworn.

I bring a travel iron and never, ever iron anything. I bring a hair straightener and have never once in my life used it. I don’t use it here. Why would I use it when I’m away? Moisturiser goes in. Again I don’t use it here. Little trial size bottles of cosmetics that I was thrilled to get when I bought two unwanted moisturisers in order to get them all go in. They are now going back and forth from country to country for years. I throw in food. Like packets of Tuc biscuits in case I get the munchies in my hotel bedroom late at night. I normally fall into my bed too inebriated to open the packet. I bring underwear that’s being kept for hospital or the undertaker or indeed in case I get lucky (I hope my kids aren’t reading this). And they come back unused as well. Most of the time anyway. I bring at least three books and never open a page. But it’s the amount of clothes that’s the killer. If you’re going for four nights you bring four going-out-at-night tops. Right? That’s OK for a normal person. In fact a normal person might bring two and rotate them. I bring at least 10. And two pairs of shoes should be enough. At a push three. Nope I end up by shoving all the trial bottles into the shoes and that justifies me bringing the seven pairs in the first place. And because my feet are so big the travel iron fits into another shoe. Every cloud...