Intrigued, I click on that last one. Included as one of the nine essentials is a leather thong ("illustration omitted"). Adventurous weekend, indeed.
But I don't believe even a leather thong can help me now.
THERE ARE TWO kinds of travelers in this world: people who travel light, and people who believe that sort of thing is utter nonsense.
I guess I'm becoming one of the latter.
No, I don't pack 14 pairs of shoes, nor do I have a particular blouse for breakfast, an ensemble for touring the city in the afternoon, or a dress for the evening. Um, which is to say that I don't have a blouse, an ensemble, or an evening dress. Or even a casual dress. Or oh, never mind.
But I am filling my suitcase, sometimes two, and returning home with shirts unworn and shoes unlaced and pants unfolded. I have come down, I fear, with a bout of the Just in Cases.
JIC, as they call it in the travel biz, is an affliction caused by two things: aging and American-ness.
In terms of the American-ness, it's true. In lines at airport counters these days, you see families from other countries with ginormous suitcases tied together with rope and piled high, one atop another. But one senses that they are not just traveling but actually moving. In which case, they are traveling light.
If I could move from one country to another with one or two ginormous suitcases, I'd be my own hero.