The Sure Shot Redemption

People new to travelling invariably make the mistake of bringing a different item of clothing to cover all occasions, just in case such an occasion should spring up.

They bring a casual jacket, a formal jacket, jumpers, t-shirts, long sleeved shirts, short sleeved shirts, shorts, casual pants, formal pants, a nice skirt and/or a nice dress (more than one, if they’re female), dress shoes, casual shoes, bathers (even in winter, in case they fortuitously stumble across a heated pool somewhere), slippers, pyjamas, dressing gown and, finally, a raincoat and umbrella. I don’t think I’ve forgotten anything, and they hope like hell they haven’t forgotten anything either.

Invariably, of course, the bow-backed traveler, having dragged their suitcase with the one broken trundle wheels through innumerable buses, taxis, hire cars, trains, and customs and immigration checks ends up finding he or she has only worn a fraction of what was taken. They resolve to never be so frivolous in what they opt to take with them again. And they invariably forget their solemn vow, several times, until at last they travel with nothing but two t-shirts, one pair of jeans, a pair of shorts, and a pair of boots, a jacket, yet somehow still find, almost magically, that they didn’t wear everything.

Based on the assumption that an ever diminishing number of items of clothing could be taken, yet not all of them worn, the only viable conclusion is that you could ultimately travel with nothing, yet still find you don’t wear everything. Prove me wrong.

I'd like to consider myself a seasoned traveler – who doesn’t? it sounds far cooler than ‘unseasoned traveller’ - so naturally I’ve long stopped dragging such extravagances halfway around the world for no purpose. Instead, I’ve pared my ‘take list’ for an upcoming trip to the Southwest US back to the ruthless, functional minimum a budding, yet travel hardened writer and photographer would need: one pair of jeans, a pair of shorts, a pair of boots and a jacket.

Oh, and 

• 2 x camera bodies, one full-frame digital with a booster, and one film (yes, film!) with three rolls of slide (yes, slide!) film.
• 4 x lenses
• 1 x flash
• 1 x tripod
• Sundry items of nerdy camera electronica (battery chargers, batteries, intervalometer for time-lapse shots, remote shutter release, headphones)
• 8 x filters, adaptor rings and external holders
• 1 x external hard drive
• 1 x external microphone with dead kitten (don’t ask)
• 1 x notebook
• Unknown x cables. Lots of cables. Cables I have no idea whether I’ll need, yet know I need to take¹

All of this is currently crammed into two bags, their YKK zips bulging under the savage brutality of it all.

One will be hauled onto the plane with me as hand-luggage², and the other to be entrusted to the tender mercies of the V. Australia cargo crews in Melbourne and LA. I’ve yet to weigh the lot, but gut feeling indicates there’s a very strong possibility that it’ll blow my weight limit before I even leave.

The question, then, becomes ‘of this, what will I likely use?’. I believe it’ll be, roughly

• One camera
• One lens

Maybe the emphasis should be on travel writing.

¹Patrick’s First Law of Travel. If you don’t take it, you’ll need it, usually urgently. If you do take it, you won’t, not ever, and you’ll curse yourself for bringing it. Typically applies to umbrellas, electronics, duplicate copies of identification, hard currency and small caliber handguns.

²Patrick’s Second Law of Travel. Make your hand luggage look light, even if it isn’t. Although it's rarely weighed, there is a weight limit on hand luggage. I’ve found as long as you trip merrily through ticketing, laughing (not too) gaily, and swinging it about as though it’s empty save a few toiletries, you can get away with murder. Quite literally, in fact – I once took a human head given to me as a housewarming present by a regional FARC warlord from Bogotá to Turkmenistan as carry on luggage. True* story.