I logged into day 14 at 3am on the way to the airport. Realising I couldn’t physically declutter and be minimal in the back of a taxi without getting funny looks, I started thinking about what I could do without or virtually minimise. I’d already had a minimal 3 hours sleep so figured I was already ahead of the game.
When I got to the airport there were lots of grunting and moaning about the size of my case – “why do you need all this, it’s only 5 days away”. Trying to defend myself I thought that actually I don’t really need a bag the size of the Lake District, even though there were many “essentials” I’d left at home. Did I really need 3 books, a kindle and copious magazines for the flight? How much “stuff” do I carry around with me “just incase” – the answer a whole rucksack.
So arriving abroad I decided to go minimal. I went unwittingly minimal on the sun cream #fail, minimal on the afternoon cakes #win.
When we got in for dinner, the electrics blew (it might have been me) and so we went minimal on the lights. Stumbling to bed by candlelight I thought that actually everything was ok. So I threw the kindle, 3 books and magazines on the floor. I couldn’t read them anyway.
When I’m travelling, the more stuff I have with me the more things I’m worrying about. Did I leave my hat in the cafe? Where did I put my pocket calculator? Even when I bring everything but the kitchen sink, I still manage to think that I’m missing something. “If only I’d brought this book to read!” I cry – totally ignoring the book that I did bring. So maybe there’s something liberating about travelling without stuff. Minimal travel is the way forward. Suncream, a change of underwear and a toothbrush – everything else is optional.