The lost art of packing: ten things you will forget

Dear modern humanity, Let’s just face it, we’ve failed. Try as we may to regain that skill of perfect balance, I fear its gone forever. It’s official: we’re all terrible packers.

I’ve been thinking on this lately and I really don’t know how nomads did it. Wandering, hunting and gathering – constantly moving. Carrying all of their possessions with them. We no longer possess the skill of taking only what we need, but also being sure not to leave anything crucial behind. It’s an art that’s been lost.

So you’re organized, a good planner and ready for just about everything? Chances are you’re an over packer.

A minimalist you say? Nothing but the essentials? I’m willing to bet that you forget a few pretty important things.

Bottom line is that no matter how many places you’ve visited, no matter how often you move, no matter what you do, being the “perfect packer” is a nearly impossible feat. So I’m here to help with the ten things that you will more than likely forget to bring:

Me with 45 lbs. of luggage on my back - not a pro packer

1. Socks

– Yeah you’ve got the underwear, but you forgot the socks. On the off chance you remembered socks, you haven’t packed enough.

2. The “right” book

– While you will remember a novel nine-out-of-ten times, it is almost a guarantee that you will chose the wrong one for the occasion. On any given venture, I cannot predict what kind of thoughts I will be having or what mood I will be in, so I never fail to bring the wrong book.

3. One charger/ electrical converter

– Without fail, every time, no exceptions you will forget something that plugs into the wall and makes important things work.

4. Watch

– Even with a cell phone, you’ll want to have the time on hand. For example during the flight or while in a rush traveling.

5. Rain jacket

– Hey, you never know. But you also never bring it and really it takes up next to no room.

6. Important contact numbers

– An obviously important thing to have with you, but easily forgotten because this kind of planning requires significant forethought.

7. Pain killers/ prescription medication

– Just as people forget to take their medication in the morning, you will forget to pack it. The good news is you wont be faced with the complication of remembering each morning.

8. Belt

– If you don’t sport a belt on a daily basis, don’t bet on remembering it.

9. Hand sanitizer

– Traveling gets dirty, it’s a nice thing to have.

10. Pillow

– Nothing is nicer than resting your head on a pillow that is normal-sized, clean, just the consistency you like and all yours. If its not a sizeable inconvenience, bring it.

Hopefully this list might help make a more perfectly packed world. Enjoy your travels.

the group with some luggage about to leave for Ecuador

The Key to Bliss

College is not as glamorous as everyone likes to think.

Under the seemingly insurmountable piles of work, and snow for that matter, Oswego isn’t always the ideal place. I know much of the work I have brought on myself, a double major and working for the school newspaper, but I think people would agree that sometimes a sunny beach, a tall drink and not a care in the world is the way to go. Just ask my man Jimmy Buffett!

West campus in the winter

This is a discussion I regularly have with a friend of mine. Any time either of us has a particularly tough week, so just about every week, we mull over the idea of taking off. Mary and I have both been to Key West, Fl. It is a place she is especially fond of and I can’t say I mind it either.

The conversation begins when one of us tumbles in out of the snowy abyss, with a weary, beaten and crushed look on our face. I wish I could say this was a rare occurrence; sadly it is common, usually sans snow. It has happened so often, in fact, that we have a pretty solid plan; a foolproof two-step plan.

Step one: take whatever we can pack in five minutes, run it out to the car with the most gas and head south before either of us has time to come to our senses.

Step two: once there we would spend the first days on the beach, preparing for the hard life and strenuous work soon to come. To pay for the tiny, yet adorable cottage within walking distance of the beach, we would get jobs. Mary wants to work on a boat that takes day trips and I would lean on my experience and work as a waitress, or better yet a bartender.

My last visit in Key West

Surrounded by tourists, we would never have a shortage of new friends or fun places to go (like Jimmy Buffett’s recording studio – our first day trip). Spending everyday in the sun we would have the perfect tan. Riding bikes everywhere we would be super earth friendly. So green, so golden and so gutsy.

I wish I had the nerve to drop everything and move to the sunshine state. Neither of us does, that’s what stops us every time. The fact that I’m not here for the degree but really the knowledge is always the deciding factor to stay.

But just you wait Key West, we graduate in a year and three months.

Sometimes it’s okay to sit with the Americans

Travel is all about new experiences, other cultures and meeting new people. Exchanging with a nation entirely different than your own has its benefits. There is no better way to do that than to meet natives and share stories.

But sometimes you can learn as much, just by meeting people from your own backyard.

In Spring 2011, I visited Paris with classmates from SUNY Oswego. Despite attending the university for two years, I didn’t know a single student going on the trip. I made fast friends.

The middle of the trip came too quickly, with it came St. Patrick’s Day. We were looking for someplace to celebrate. We found that the holiday is more about religion for Europeans than it is about drinking, and nearly gave up hope of finding a bar. That is until we remembered the Mariott just three blocks from our hostel.

We entered tentatively and picked a table as far out of the way as possible. Expecting a request for us to leave, as we were just college kids that did not have a room at the hotel. It seemed to be a slow night even for them. Only a few couples sat at the tables against the wall, a clear request for privacy and solidarity. We would only have one drink, we decided then we’d leave.

The bartenders changed our minds.

Two tall, dark, and handsome men that could have been brothers motioned for us to take a seat at the bar. One of the men asked us why we were in Paris and we lightly discussed our lives while mulling over the St. Pattys drink specials menu. As if something in his head clicked, he paused, looked at the time and then pulled two cardboard boxes from the floor.

“I just remembered, we have all this promotional stuff for the holiday. This isn’t really the crowd, you know,” he said, motioning to the back of the bar and the rest of its patrons. “It’s after eleven, do you guys want it?”

Of course we did. We got t-shirts, green baseball caps, sun glasses, necklaces and glass engraved shot glasses all with Jameson or Guinness logos.

While he was mixing the drinks, a man and woman three seats to our left caught our attention. They had overheard that we were students from the U.S., they were from Florida. They were on vacation mostly for the nightlife and the sites. No kids for them, they were still young and had no desire to explore the option of settling down he said. She agreed enthusiastically. They were both at least 30.

The Irish coffee was delicious, and decked out with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. Midway through our first drink we were joined on our right by a man from South Carolina. He was less outgoing than the Florida couple but he enjoyed chiming in from time to time.

Among us, conversation flowed freely. Despite the age gap, the accents, differing states, entirely different life choices, we wound up in the same bar and we enjoyed each others company. It may not have been a cross-cultural experience, but on some level it was for me.

“So, have you kids ever done an Irish Car Bomb?” Asked South Carolina.

The Florida couple, visible with excitement ordered a round for everyone seated at the bar. The six of us.

After instruction to the French bartender on how to create the concoction, we needed instruction on how to take the drink. “Drop the shot into the Guinness and don’t stop drinking – it’s a race.”

Amy and I were done soon after the couple, South Carolina took first. Barry couldn’t finish his and was ragged on by everyone. We had one more drink – it was all we could afford and then we left the bar. Goodbyes to our new friends were difficult in a way I still don’t quite understand. But when I look back on the memory, I always see the six of us lining the bar.