This is another rescued snippet from the old Tumblr I’m clearing out. May 2017
We’ve gotten lazy, 7+ months into our travels. We started packing for convenience, not for what-ifs. Already traveling light, we have 2 small roller bags, not his and hers, but daily needs vs more infrequent ones. That way only one bag gets unpacked at short duration destinations. Daily needs: clothes, shoes, coffee and filters, the herb bag/remedy kit, etc… The second bag: books, notebooks, art supplies, a few summer weight clothes, trinkets and gew gaws. Guess which one went missing?
I had an inkling, an intuition. At the last minute while packing, I yanked out a t-shirt, socks and underwear for each and put them in the backpack. Our jackets and raincoats, we were headed to Scotland after all. Our toothbrushes and grooming kits never go in checked bags. We have rules, and sometimes we even stick to them. Our flight to Edinburgh got in at 10 pm. Waiting, waiting at baggage. One bag arrived. It was the optional one. Panic. The next morning we moved from distress to assessing the assets. Here is a summer shirt from the optional bag that I can use as PJs. Mark had one as well. With what I grabbed and put in the backpack, plus what I wore, I had: 1 wool t-shirt, 1 long sleeve cotton t-shirt, the aforementioned summer shirt, 1 heavy cotton shirt, 1 sweater, one pair of pants, one summer weight pair of pants, 2 pairs of socks, 2 underwear, 1 bra. Jacket and raincoat. Not bad, it covers all weather and daily needs. No need to sweat it. Either our bag would be returned to us or it wouldn’t. It was out of our control. No need to give it any more thought than that. It was like Schrodinger’s cat. Lost and not lost. Like any proverbial cat, I was simply curious. Yes, we could go buy things. But I hate shopping, and if the bag were found, we would have too much stuff. And besides, where’s the fun in that? We could pretend we were castaways. Or camping. Or 20 year old backpackers. Or extreme minimalists. Life got simple. Each night, carefully fold what doesn’t need washing, wash what does. It was slightly monastic. 4 days later our bag was delivered. I was a tad disappointed. The game was over. Our normal spare travel wardrobe now felt like an embarrassment of riches. Things to be washed and put away. Wardrobe decisions to be made. It feels indulgent. I’m sure I’ll adapt.
Remember lost luggage? Those were days!