Tony had a nice big one. One of the biggest I have seen, in fact. Smooth to the touch, yet strong.
I spent hours admiring it and touching it whilst he was asleep.
Luis, on the other hand, had a ridicously small one. I often wondered how he could cope with such a
tiny one. Well, he was a small guy so I guess it was all in proportion and he seemed to be doing
just fine with it.
Once I travelled with a girl who had such a large one that she could fit a standard size umbrella in it. An umbrella! I guess this is what made her happy, so there.
Mine can barely fit a hairbrush in it. I envied hers. Especially the colour. A lovely shade of pink.
Mine is grey, which is a little dull.
Next time I buy a backpack, I won't go for grey, for sure. I want it green, so that people will mistake me for a giant turtle. A Ninja Turtle.
I never thought I could develop "backpack envy", but I did. I can cope with the people who have one prettier than mine, (story of my life) but I can't stand the travellers who go around the world for 5 years with a rucksack as big as my make up bag.
"I bet you can't fit hiking shoes in there".
"Yes, I can".
"Well, surely you have no space for a three- man tent with gazebo attached?!"
"Yep, front pocket".
"How about oxygen tanks should you randomly decide to climb the Himalayas ?"
"Of course. They are in the side pocket"
"An inflatable dinghy to use on the Himalayas, in case a sudden change of climate would cause a storm so heavy to completely submerge the mountains?!"
"Bottom pocket"
"And a pump to inflate it?"
"Oh, shit. I knew I had forgotten something...."
My advice is: travel light and only pack the essentials.
Now, the term "essential" is very individual, I discovered.
My friend Lidia arrived in Mexico with a backpack which weighed 21kg for a 5 weeks holiday.
Remarkable , if we don't consider that 20 and 1/2 of which consisted of jewellery.
To her, it was "essential" to change a necklace after each meal.
Of course, after a few days most of the jewellery was donated (with hysterical cries) to indigenous women.
If you travel in remote villages in Mexico and you see farmers wearing H&M necklaces, you know where they come from.
My idea of "essential" is slightly different.
Tweezers are essential. Once that I travelled without them, I ended up having to shave my face to remove unwanted hair. A week later , locals referred to me as "Pedro". Tweezers are in.
Tampons are essential. In some places in Central America the only choice you have is "Apple scented super sized tampons". Unless you want to smell like an Arbre Magique for 3 days a month, tampons are in.
Pills to stop diarrhoea are essential. Very essential. I am now at a stage where even if I just look at a goddamn taco, I shit my pants. So with no further ado, pills are in.
Parmesan cheese is more essential than ANYTHING. You can spread it over tacos and with a bit of imagination, you can believe it s a pizza. Take away my tweezers, my tampons and my pills. Parmesan is staying. Or else I' ll go home.
Home. What a beautiful, yet abstract concept, these days.
Home is where the heart should be. They say.
So what happens when your heart is everywhere in the world?
Well, I guess you keep going. You keep packing. Light, hopefully.
In your backpack, fit whatever you need. The essential, I say. A full size umbrella, if that's what makes you happy.
Whether it s big, small, pink or grey, just fill it with your wildest dreams. And while you're at it, pack some necklaces too. You never know when you ll need some.
