The Secret of Traveling Light
I don’t know why certain people can’t learn to travel more lightly.
Recently, my wife and I flew to Tahiti. As usual I had packed only a single flight bag. As usual, my wife had overpacked, drastically.
Tahiti is a Polynesian paradise. Why in the world would one want to take more than swimming trunks and a toothbrush? Why indeed?
Thinking about all of Kate’s bags made me feel queasy. And then the plane stared to pitch. Kate found a motion sickness pill. I needed some sparkling apple juice to wash it down. She had that in one of her other cases. “Now aren’t you glad I packed those motion sickness pills and some juice?” she asked.
“Darling,” I said, “the pill is less than the size of a copper cent. And the cider is a tiny can. Both would have fit nicely in my flight bag. Look, I still have lots of room left in it.” I showed her that my flight bag was less than half full, proving once again my theory that you don’t need more than one bag, no matter where you’re flying.
Several hours later, I went to the lavatory. The plane hit a bump and I was hurled against the ceiling. I opened quite a gash in my forehead.
Kate rummaged through another one of her infernal bags and produced some antibiotic cream and a Band-Aid. As she was tending to my wound, she mentioned that it was fortunate that “someone” had packed medical supplies.
She was becoming tedious. “Darling,” I said. “The Band-Aid would have taken no room in my flight bag. And the antibiotic ointment could have easily been tucked into any corner.”
We finally got to Tahiti. Our hotel was supposed to furnish food. It certainly was not up to my standards. Kate unwrapped some fruit, vegetable and meat goods. She had brought some kind of little oven that worked quite well and she was able to make a dozen or so fairly serviceable meals.
She had the gall to point out to me that without the food, I would have had a horrible time.
I was starting to have a horrible time due to her incessant nagging. I showed her how the food could have easily fit in my bag. At least the food I ate.
It turned out that the fun thing to do was scuba dive. The resort didn’t offer equipment; however, crazy Kate had lugged along the gear. I had a pretty good time underwater and saw a great many new kinds of fishes. I speared a couple with the collapsible gun Kate produced.
As she was roasting my fish, Kate just had to point out that sometimes it was a good idea to bring along extra supplies, even to a Polynesian paradise.
I pointed out to her that in spite of the fact that I didn’t bring the scuba gear, I had used it. Obviously, when you are in a foreign country, you can borrow stuff. How much easier to do that than drag things halfway around the world.
It rained. I listened to the CDs Kate had brought on the player that she had jammed into one of her bags. I knew it would make her feel appreciated. That’s the only way to bring a person out of funk.
We ended up having a pretty good time in spite of her insistence on dragging so much stuff along.
Kate told me next year, we might take separate vacations. She said she would even help me pack my little flight bag. All well and good but I think we all know she couldn’t survive on her own.
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