It's that time again! This time the rucksack is out, Hep B and Rabies up to date, Malarone ordered and I aim to travel lightly. Or this is what I thought before I returned home from Boots today.
Before I pack a swimsuit or kaftan, not to mention underwear, I have to find room for THE WIPES! All of a sudden I am buying wipes for everything, even for regions of my body which have hitherforto gone obviously unwiped. There are wipes for hands. We all have those. Face wipes, a lot of us ignore all beauty advice and use those. There are wipes for foreign loo seats! What to do in a really foreign loo where there IS no seat? There are wipes for eyes, to remove makeup. Wipes to refresh eyes wipes. Wipes to clean foreign floors in foreign loos before you put your bag down on foreign soil. Have you ever tried wiping concrete or even sand? Wipes to disinfect body parts before self administering injections. FEMININE wipes to make you feel better about yourself and when you have thoroughly sanitised yourself, there are wipes to re-wipe your hands to get rid of the smell of the previously used wipes. Bogged down by bags of wipes I moved on to the pharmacy.
The pharmacist had seen me coming and done a runner. Last year I was ILL. Very ill, nearly died but rallied to single handedly refloat the ailing pharmacy businesses in the UK. I have thinned my blood, thickened it again, enriched it. I have addressed my irksome cholesterol, looked to the inflammations and frightened away the aches and pain with more narcotics than an NA member could shake a stick at. A reasonable request for adequate supplies of regular medications to see me through the holiday period without resorting to frequent trips to unknown medics has seen me afloat on a sea of plls. Not only did they supply me with adequate supplies for a two month trip, they prescribed enough drugs to see me banged up in the Bangkok Hilton for several years before the Embassy help arrives. I think I must have seriously pissed off the receptionist.
To the packing. I have removed all medicaments from cardboard boxes but cannot do a lot about the wipes which have to stay hermetically sealed to stay moist. See, wipes don't work when dry. I learnt that on the last foray to foreign climes.
I need lotions and potions, shampoos and conditioners, some to make me blonder, some to remove the brass from the blonde brought on by sun and swimming and some just to restore some balance. I am at that age when Factor 50 is a necessity, followed by the soothing after-sun. At night I need to feed my face, my skin I mean. In the morning I have to wake it up. The bags under my eyes need Prep 45 and the anti ageing oils now have to be bought in half gallon cans. There is the serum, the day cream, the night cream, the extra special rehydrating cream for mature skins, goose fat for old skins, hand cream.
I am still thinking about the packing.
So, we have wipes, drugs, potions. MY FEET! I need comfort. I find my fitflops, birkenstocks, Ugg boots, hiking boots OH, nearly forgot, walking sticks. Jeez, socks for the boots. I am going on the hippie trail, I need to be comfortable.
Hell, forgot the electronics. The camera. The charger. The phone. The charger. The iPad. The Charger. The iPod. The charger. The Kindle. The charger. The solar charger to charge the chargers.
Nearly forgot, the washing line. Pegless this trip, I am learning how to cut down. The universal bath plug because I never travel without it. Even a trip to deepest darkest Devon calls for a universal. Torch, enough batteries to keep me going for a week or two. Ear plugs. Blutak for emergencies (explain later, it is invaluable). Latex gloves, no explanation needed. My Leatherman - so so neccessary.
Still ruminating about the packing. The 70 litre rucksack is getting filled up pretty quickly.
The travel books. 50 things to do in Bangkok for under 50p ( a treasure found in a charity shop, bound to be handy). How to order 50 breakfasts in Vietnam before noon in 30 dialects. The Lonely Planet Guide to packing, think I will give that a swerve. A real book in case the electronic one falls in water.
Other necessities. The micro towel. Not so micro when you buy the extra large. The travelling blanket for those chilly nights. The silk sleeping bag liner and the travel pillow.
The hip flask oh and the water bottle oh and the hot water bottle. Shite I forgot the travel kettle. The adaptor.
Right, underwear. Knickers, bras. That's not bad, take twelve pairs of pants, four bras and oh yes, travel wash.
So I am wiped, medicated, entertained, feet are fine, got something to read so I am ready to go. Close the rucksack.
The clothes are still sitting in piles on the bed. So I am going to be a well read, semi naked traveller. Might as well stay at home and go to a nudist colony. Hey, not a bad idea. That is what I am going to do. When my mates think I am swanning up the Mekong Delta I will be in Keynsham at the Avon Naturist B&B of the year, circa 1960. I will arrive naked except for my poncho and pants. I may not be dressed but I will be clean and my feet will be comfortable and should we decide to hike The Mendips I will be well prepared. I think.
Namaste.
Namaste.
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