What to Pack?
A minimalist's guide to hitting the open road...
Joel Bowman, reckoning today from No Man’s Land...
“Are you Mr. Bowman?” The man staring down at us had a clipboard in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other. We responded in the affirmative.
“I’m afraid there’s been a problem,” he grimaced. “You’ll need to disembark the plane...”
We set aside our usual subject this week, Dear Reader - that of money, politics and the Gordian nexus where the twain do twine - and turn instead to something more, shall we say, “immediate”...
(Serious-minded readers are invited to skip this issue and tune in again next week.)
As we type this rambling missive to you, we know not where we will spend the night ahead. We are presently cruising at 36,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean, en route to Houston, TX, from Athens, Greece.
But, we very nearly weren’t...
Due to what we can only imagine was a COVID-related administrative cock-up with the immigration department, our ESTA visa (part of America’s visa waiver program) has been “suspended”... or “canceled”... or “revoked”... (the man with the two-way and the clipboard couldn’t - or wouldn’t - tell us.)
“But it says ‘approved’ right here,” we protested, brandishing our digital copy of the notification. “It was good for entry into the country back in April...”
After a bit of to-and-froing, the man (“just doing his job,” of course) agreed to let us proceed with our journey, assuring us that they would take care of the matter “from our end” while we continued onward, into the uncertain future...
The problem, we learn now that we’ve connected to the inflight WiFi, is that our visa status has, indeed, “changed.” Changed in that it no longer exists...
Which begs the question... without a valid travel visa, will we be permitted entry?
Will we, along with our wife and daughter (both US passport holders), be admitted into the Land of the Free? Or will we be turned away? If the latter, will we be sent back to Greece? Or far flung to our country of residence (Argentina)? Or banished farther still, to whence our passport was issued (Australia)?
Last we checked, all those nations’ borders were pretty tight. The EU is discussing a fresh round of restrictions on visitors from the US. Argentina is limiting arrivals to a few thousand a week. Australia, meanwhile, is bent on returning to its origins as a penal colony (as we explained in this very space last week).
Perhaps we’ll be rendered “stateless,” like “Sir Alfred” (Mehran Karimi Nasseri), who lived in Charles de Gaulle Airport from 1988 to 2006, caught in limbo on some fantastic visa ambiguity or another...
As usual, Wife Anya has a plan. “We’ll just go to Mexico. No worries.”
And if we’re not welcomed there?
Hmm...
This may require a little geo-dexterity, Dear Reader... a spot of fleet-footed dynamism... some Talebian antifragility...
Or, barring all that, a healthy dollop of dumb luck...
Whatever happens, we’re happy to say we’ve packed light. (Always, ALWAYS carry-on only.)
We may have nowhere in particular to go... but at least we’ve got all the time in the world to get there!
And so, while we troubleshoot from our flight to “who-knows-where?” we’ll leave you with a chipper column we penned at the beginning of our summer sojourn, all about how to pack like a pro (you know, just in case your best laid travel plans go awry). Please enjoy...
What to Pack? A Minimalist’s Guide to Hitting the Open Road
By Joel Bowman
And we’re off!
Yes, Dear Reader, we’re hitting the road (and the oceans… and the skies…) once again, determined to reenter the international realm after being confined to within a single border for what has been the longest stationary stint of our adult life.
I sincerely hope, wherever you’re reading this message, you’ll soon be able to join us out there… in the long-forgotten world at large.
Our peripatetic party numbers three – yours truly, plus wife and six-year-old daughter (in reverse order of command). The journey will last a few months. Maybe more. Hopefully not less.
We plan on visiting a half a dozen States across those United, with a road trip or two along the way and maybe a skip across the pond to the continent. (We’ll let you know how that all goes, too.)
On hearing our tentative, somewhat open-ended itinerary, people often ask us – how do you plan for a trip of such length? How do you even… pack?
And so, to those inquiring friends and family, well-wishes and nay-sayers alike, we offer some cheerful travel hints for the aspiring minimalist itinerant.
First, the suitcase itself: International carry-on only. No checked luggage. No exceptions. Baggage carousels are for amateurs and people who like having their luggage lost, stolen, delayed and/or sent to exotic locales that do not appear on their ticket. Avoid them at all costs.
Note that domestic carry-on size (22" x 14" x 9") does not necessarily apply for overseas carriers. Be sure to check your carrier’s specs before departure… NOT at the gate, where punitive, on-the-spot baggage fees have been known to reduce bearded men to tears and to induce ordinarily modest, demure women to un- and re-pack their undergarments in plain sight of perfect, if awestruck, strangers. (Here’s a helpful list.)
Also important: don’t go for something flashy here. Conspicuous wealth is not only gaudy and vulgar, it draws attention…not all of it wanted. Something durable and bereft of fancy logos works best. We use TravelPro. Tumi and Rimowa are also acceptable, if a little recognizable. Leave the Louis Vuitton trunks and Birkin totes at home.
Next, the contents…in no particular order of importance:
Shirts:
3 Oxford button down shirts: Go for simple, classic white (2 – you will stain one of them), blue (1) and, if you honestly must, plaid (1). Remember, nothing fancy here. If you really need a shirt to do your talking for you, does it really matter what you have to say? Also, be sure to choose iron-free, wrinkle-free and machine washable.
2 short sleeve polo shirts: Again, eschew recognizable brand names. Aside from drawing unwanted attention, who wants to be a walking billboard for someone else’s fashion line? Not you.
1 short sleeve button down: To be worn on weekends or summer garden/pool parties only. Prints permissible.
5 Undershirts: White v-neck only. Be sure to get the right size, i.e., one that fits comfortably under your button downs. (That’s why they are called undershirts – not to be seen by members of the general public.) These will double as nightwear.
Pants:
2 pairs of adult men’s slacks: Choose your colors to go with your Oxfords. Neutral tones work best – brown, beige, blue…green if you really must (and then olive only.) You will alternate these slacks as necessary.
1 pair of business casual trousers: These will function as your primary lower body evening wear. Go for a comfortable fit. You’ll be eating dinner in them a lot. Pro-tip: Choose a dark color that will mask red wine, whether spilled from your own glass or another’s.
1 pair of corduroy pants: Corduroy pants are jeans for adults.Choose thick or thin ribs depending on weather. These are your casual, “Zoom call” option.
Underpants – including (1 pair) pajama pants: If we have to instruct you here, perhaps you’re not ready for a Big Boy trip.
A few important notes about pants:
If you are over 30-years of age and are NOT planning on working in a field/farm of some sort during your travels, jeans are NOT permissible. In fact, use this packing task as an opportunity to purge your closet of ALL non-garden-work-related denim.
Unless you are a professional photographer or your travel plans involve the words “safari,” “river rapids” or “great outdoors,” cargo pants are a definite no-no. Nothing says “I have a lot of easily-accessible valuables on my person” better than a quiver of loose, extraneous pockets. Keep it slim, ol’ boy!
Finally, under no circumstances are adult male legs to be shown in public. Ergo, the term “adult shorts” is an oxymoron. Male legs are unsightly and offensive to the senses. There are no exceptions to this cold, hard fact of life. If you have not done so already, now is a good time to deal with this reality. Tell your friends.
The only instance in which the adult male’s legs are to be momentarily unsheathed is when said male is within direct sight of a body of water that might conceivably be used for bathing/sailing/rafting, etc. Even then, clad in trunks, he must be seen to be moving either to or from said body of water, not merely “lounging” by the poolside bar, indecorous limbs splayed. After the aqueous act is complete, our man is advised to promptly don appropriate leg ware – slacks, chinos or trousers, as the occasion calls for.
Outerwear:
1 V-neck sweater. Opt for something light and made from natural fibers – cashmere, cotton and silk blends generally serve best. Do not go for weird and exotic animal hair blends. You might not have allergies; others do.(Angora goat mohair is most definitely out.)
1 sports blazer: Choose this carefully and in accordance with the seasons. Tweed is okay for wintery climes. Stick to natural fibers for warmer weather. Also, feel free to spend up a little here. Your jacket should be fitted at the waste and comfortable about the shoulders…not like when you borrowed your older brother’s/cousin’s/neighbor’s jacket for prom. Two (2) buttons here is fine. Never, under any circumstances, including when subject to enhanced interrogation tactics, fix the bottom one. (The rule, from top, for a three-button blazer is unambiguous: “sometimes, always, never.”)
Shoes: 1 pair of simple, brown brogues. You’re looking for a balance between comfort and understated style here. Go for something with padded insoles. You’ll be wearing these things everyday, so make sure you “break them in” a week or two before departure. Nothing with pointy toes or colorful threading. Pro tip: Keep your shoes well-shined. A bit of wear and tear is to be expected, but there is no excuse for sloppiness.
Socks: 5 pairs. These should have sufficient elastic to hide your hideous ankles. Like the rest of your legs, nobody wants to see them. (That includes your lying partner.) Again, resist the temptation for ridiculous prints and patterns. You’re a man, not a clown. Argyle is permissible, but limit it to one or two pairs. Otherwise, plain and neutral will do. Keep the colors lighter than your pants. And keep them pulled up.
Miscellaneous:
1 tie – Go for something clean and simple. And darker than your blazer. A half Windsor knot is acceptable for most occasions. Full Windsor if you find yourself at a wedding or funeral.
1 hat – This is especially handy if you are no longer as “lush” up top as you once were. A classic Panama style should do fine. (Note: Under no circumstances are “sports caps” acceptable, especially if you are unsportly.)
1 pair sunglasses – Most frames these days come with some branding, that’s unavoidable. Choose a relatively obscure one that people won’t be able to “price.” Unless you are a professional stuntman, eschew the “wraparound” style. Also avoid reflective tints in brash, bold colors. The ‘80’s are gone. And thank goodness for that.
Belt – Brown. Leather. No plaits.
Nota Bene: Readers will note that we dared not presume to advise a lady on what and how to pack. We will only note, with no shortage of pride and admiration, that wife and daughter both adhere to the strict, carry-on only rule, proving it can be done. Kudos.
Finally, unless you are really venturing off track, there will be shops along the way. Should one of the above items fail you for some reason, you can always pick up a replacement – just be sure to make room in your bags by either binning the spoiled item or, if it’s not too far gone, giving it to someone in need.
Happy trails.
Joel Bowman
No Man’s Land - September, 2021