The packing trauma

I've always been pretty confident in my good traveller status. I'm pretty rugged, can work out bus timetables, can haggle with the best of them etc. My ability to pack the morning of the flight is well renowned.

It came in pretty lucky the morning of my 30th birthday when due to excessive drinking the night before I woke up with a friend of a friend in my bed ( sorry mum), an irate taxi driver ringing the bell and a stinking hangover, I'd not packed and I was off to Kenya for 2 weeks, flight in 2.5 hours. Eeek.

But hey 10 minutes later I was on my way to Heathrow - happy days.

So I was going through life pretty happy with my travelling swagger. That is until I met two new friends in Belize. Clearly confident travellers, they gave good snorkel, had funny stories etc etc - perfect companions. I was sad to say goodbye to them after our sailing trip in Belize. As luck would have it a couple of days later we saw them walking past us in Flores. In true flashpacker style Philippa and I were drinking cocktails in the finest Italian restaurant Guatemala had to offer ( while not indigenous cuisine, I would really recommend you try it - it's called Il Terraza). What was curious was that the two girls appeared to be walking at pace with only their day packs with them. Must have dropped their bags at the first place and are looking for a room somewhere else I confidently told Philippa. Moments later our intrepid duo were swimming out in the glorious Lake Petén Itzá - they found that room quickly. They joined us for drinks on the balcony later. So where were your bags earlier i casually enquired? Oh right, gulp, they were your bags.....

I ponder this as I look at my bursting full 75l backpack - but then I realise even though I might not wear it - you never know who might turn up. A girl always needs a party dress and some lipstick right?

Intrepid traveller my *rse

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