Packing (How Not to Become a Walking Laundry Basket)

Missed Part 1? Read it here.

After our 4½‑month round‑the‑world trip, people kept asking: “What did you pack for such a long trip?” As if we’d cracked some secret formula involving quantum luggage. The truth? One suitcase, one carry‑on, and one backpack each.

Pro tip: many suitcases look identical. If you don’t want to star in the “accidental baggage swap” sitcom, personalize yours. I learned this the hard way — once I had to trek back from downtown to the airport, beg for a special permit to enter the forbidden “mortals not allowed” zone, and waste half a day of vacation just to reclaim my own suitcase and return someone else’s twin. Same look, very different contents.

Now we tie a coloured ribbon on the handle and pray it survives the baggage handlers. It’s not foolproof, but at least it reduces the odds of starring in another airport farce.

This is the type of luggage we use. For very long trips we may use a larger suitcase.

Let’s be clear: we’re not hitchhiking across galaxies, so a towel and a toothbrush won’t cut it. (Sorry, Douglas Adams.) We know we can’t carry our entire closet, so we squeeze in as much as humanly possible and accept that laundry will happen more than once. We try to pack light, but “light” somehow still means dragging a small wardrobe across continents. Shoes are the worst offenders: you bring three pairs, wear two, and curse the other one every time you haul your bag up a flight of stairs. And don’t get me started on “just in case” items. You’ll probably never use them, but you’ll carry them like emotional baggage.

Truth be told, lists don’t save you — you’ll forget something. The real challenge is making sure it isn’t the one thing you swore you’d remember. Over time, our list evolved from “everything we own” to “everything we can survive with.” Here are the items we learned the hard way to always pack:

• T‑shirts, lots of them. Because sweat is universal.
• One smart‑casual outfit. For those rare moments when you want to look less like a backpacker and more like someone who belongs in a restaurant.
• Walking shoes that double as dress shoes. Because packing two pairs feels like a crime against luggage space.
• Extra eyeglasses. Nothing says “trip ruined” like losing your only pair in the ocean.
• Plug adaptors. Every country thinks their sockets are the chosen ones.
• Hand sanitizer. For washrooms that believe soap is optional.

Bottom line: pack light, pack smart, and accept that you’ll be doing laundry. Often. If you’re lucky, you’ll even find a machine that doesn’t eat your socks.

Where We Stay & What We Eat: Hotels, Apartments, and Michelin Surprises

OK. So you’ve endured the endless tabs, contradictory advice, and clickbait lists. Welcome to the next circle of travel planning hell. Now comes the part where travel planning stops pretending to be intellectual and reveals its true face: beds, bathrooms, and binder clips. This is where you find out whether your “dream trip” involves a Michelin‑starred dinner or a cabin with a toilet 100 steps away. Spoiler: both are character‑building. This part’s quite personal. We don’t stay in fancy hotels or eat at gourmet restaurants every day. But we do treat ourselves now and then—especially if there’s a Michelin-starred spot nearby.

Festival de la entomofagia – main course at Quintonil restaurant in Mexico City (2 Michelin Stars). Some of you would not like to know what it really means… it was awesome.

Booking Accommodation: Timing, Rewards, and Hacks

For short stays, we go for hotels. We’re out most of the day, so we don’t need much space. A clean room with a comfy bed and a good shower is all we need. We know that a 18-20 square meters (195-215 square feet) room is large enough for us and our luggage.

For longer stays, we prefer apartments. More space, a washing machine, and a kitchen—especially since I love to cook. In Faro, Algarve, we found a cozy Airbnb near the market. The kitchen was tiny but functional – just enough room to chop vegetables without elbowing the fridge. The Sunday farmers’ market was just around the corner and from the rooftop (which we had all to ourselves), we could see the sea. Honestly, it felt like we’d hacked the system: budget lodging with a view that screamed “luxury brochure.”

The view from the rooftop of our small flat in Faro

We use blogs, tourism sites, and booking platforms to find places to stay. In big cities, we prioritize central location, proximity to attractions and safety. In small towns, we sometimes let availability decide—because when there’s only one hotel, your choice is made for you.

When do we book?

We book early—sometimes even months in advance. There’s something relaxing about knowing we’ve got a reservation waiting. Better prices, more options, and we always choose free cancellation. Occasionally, I check back and find the same room cheaper. I rebook, cancel the original, and feel like I’ve outsmarted the system. It’s the travel version of finding $20 in your coat pocket.

When booking, I generally use platforms that offer perks or points. Even if it’s a bit pricier, the rewards can make it a better deal overall. And we make sure to remember using the rewards when they are still available.

Despite all the research, surprises do happen. Not all platforms reveal the full truth—shocking, I know. We focus on the essentials: clean, quiet, and a bed that doesn’t feel like a medieval torture device. For everything else, we improvise. One of the best hacks we’ve learned? Binder clips to seal hotel curtains and block out that pesky sliver of sunlight that hits your face like a spotlight at 6 a.m. Genius.

You’ll probably need more than one clip, but it’s worth it.

Read the full description of the accommodation

To be honest, we can’t always blame others when a room doesn’t meet our expectations. We make mistakes too.
True story: we arrived at a campsite in Coromandel, New Zealand, around 10 p.m.—completely exhausted after a day of flying and a 2.5-hour drive along a stunning but winding road. All we wanted was a quick shower and a good night’s sleep.
We opened the cabin door, searching for the bathroom door… but there was no door. Just existential dread. Turns out, the facilities were shared and located about 100 steps away, common to all visitors.
Yes, it was mentioned when we booked, but we never imagined we’d reserved a cabin without its own bathroom. At 10 p.m., there wasn’t much we could do, and we were pretty annoyed. Now, though, we laugh at how clueless we were. Lesson learned. That won’t happen again!

Our room at the Belmont Hotel in Lima. It did have a bath… We could afford it by using rewards from Hotels.com.

Final Thoughts : Travel Planning = Damage Control Disguised as Organization

That’s how we prep for trips—quirks, hacks, and occasional facepalms. Everyone has their own style, and that’s what makes travel personal. Because travel planning is basically damage control disguised as organization. Sometimes, you’ll book too early, cancel too late, or discover that “central location” means “next to a nightclub.” But that’s the fun — the hacks, the screw‑ups, the small wins when you rebook the same room cheaper. If even one of these tips saves you from a sleepless night or a curtain that leaks sunlight like a spotlight, then my job here is done. And if not, at least you’ll have a story to tell — preferably one that makes your friends jealous and your enemies roll their eyes.

Part 1 is the prequel you didn’t know you needed. Go on, I’ll wait.

Know a hack I missed? Share it. Know a disaster I should avoid? Definitely share it. Know nothing at all? Comment anyway (after you read the summary).

Summary and Key Takeaways: Hacks, Stays, and Packing Lessons

• Your suitcase is not unique. Make it ugly enough to be safe.
• Packing “light” is a lie. You’ll still drag half a wardrobe across continents and curse every extra shoe.
• Lists don’t save you. You’ll forget something. The trick is making sure it’s not the one thing you swore you wouldn’t.
• Essentials matter more than “just in case” junk. T‑shirts, one smart outfit, shoes that multitask, spare glasses, plug adaptors, sanitizer. Everything else is emotional baggage.
• Laundry is inevitable. Pretend it’s cultural immersion. Bonus points if the machine doesn’t eat your socks.
• Hotels vs. apartments: short stays = clean bed + shower; long stays = kitchen + washing machine. Translation: how much space do you need to argue in?
• Book early, cancel often. Free cancellation is the prenup of travel. Rebooking cheaper feels like winning the lottery.
• Rewards programs are worth it. They turn “splurge” into “technically free” — or at least trick you into believing it.
• Binder clips are genius. They beat hotel design and therapy bills by keeping sunlight out of your face at 6 a.m.
• Mistakes happen. Like booking a cabin without a bathroom. At least it makes a good story later.
• Travel planning = damage control. You’ll book too early, cancel too late, and end up next to a nightclub. Laugh, improvise, and call it “character building.”
• Booking flights & accommodation in advance:
  • Pros: cheaper, guaranteed, and you get that smug “I’m so organized” feeling.
  • Cons: less flexibility, plus the crushing regret when you realize you locked yourself into the wrong option months ago. It’s basically travel FOMO with a cancellation fee.