Everything is weight

Following on from Travel as a humiliation ritual, this is not me nor no guide telling you how to pack let alone live your life, which seem to be a dime a dozen now, right? Signed off by white girls who all went to the same place somewhere once. Don’t get me started.

Rather I’m sharing what I do or did, which you can do whatever with, in the name of content but now more appropriately Homesick. Sadly once again there’s still no medal for this shit.

On the premise as previously discussed of luggage simply being a pain in the arse and heavy not being synonymous with holiday. Source, you say? The wisdom gained from almost four decades spent in the air or far, far away.

Because everything is weight - here is how I stay under seven kilograms carrying hand luggage. Warm destinations only edition. Operative words being one, black, Havianas and H&M. Because no one cares and you don’t actually need anything.

1 x bikini

1 x sarong

1 x singlet

1 x dress

1 x havianas

1 x non havianas

1 x tote bag

1 x towel

1 x hat

1 x robe

Workout stuff. Bra, shorts, sneakers.

Sunglasses.

Clotrimazole cream, hair-dye, sunscreen, and other basic toiletries.

Incense.

Tarot cards.

Teddy.

Note. Excluding plane outfit because I’m wearing it, as well as underwear because outside of sport I can’t stand it. Socks included.