Packing List

Right, so here goes, our full unexpurgated packing list.  If you’re not a fan of lists, look away now…

Clothes

Each person will have:

• lightweight fleece
• pack-a-mac
• sun hat
• thermal leggings and long sleeved thermal top
• three short sleeved cotton tops
• one long sleeved cotton top
• one pair of longish trousers (or in Eve’s case, a dress)
• two pairs of shorts/skirts
• swimming costume
• four pairs of pants
• two pairs of socks
• one pair of sandals (to be worn with the socks, obviously)
• on pair of walking shoes/trainers with grippy soles
• pyjama bottoms that could double as a pair of trousers in an emergency
• tshirt to use as pyjama top
• Dickon will have five tops, bottoms and pants.  That child can make more mess than anyone I know.
• The children will each have a second pair of swimming shorts and a long sleeved rash vest.
• I will also have two bras, incase you were interested

Electronics

• Samsung N140 netbook and charger
• Nikon DSLR camera, USB cable, battery charger and spare battery
• Sony ereader and cable
• iPhone
• 3 x iPods and headphones
• two apple chargers & two extra USB cables
• cheap SIM only four band phone and charger
• external hard drive
• flip movie camera
• extension cable to charge four appliances at once
• international adaptor

First Aid Kit

• paracetamol for adults and children
• piriton for adults and children
• travel sick pills
• asthma stuff for me and Ned, including copy of prescription
• immodium
• rehydration salts
• temporary filling kit
• glasses repair kit and Steve’s prescription
• assorted plasters, including steri-strips, blister plasters and that gel stuff that turns into a covering when it dries
• microporous tape and a few dressings
• tweezers
• dry antiseptic spray
• Bandage
• Tiger Balm
• tea tree oil
• mosquito bite zapper

Wash bag

• five toothbrushes
• tube of toothpaste
• bottle of shampoo to be used for hair, bodies and clothes
• deodorant
• disposable razors
• shaving oil
• lavender oil
• hairbrush
• hair elastics
• sun cream
• ear plugs

Poo bag (patent pending)

Our youngest child has an unerring ability to need a poo as soon as you are nowhere near a loo.  We therefore always carry a small bag with the following:

• nappy sacks
• tissues
• baby wipes
• antibacterial hand gel

Speaking of which, we are also taking pull ups for night time.  I’ve admitted defeat.

Children’s toys and school materials

• teddies and blankies
• snorkels and masks
• Uno
• pack of cards
• plasticine
• a handful (literally) of tiny cars, dinosaurs and animals
• felt tips, pencils, rubber, sharpener, glue, sellotape
• exercise book each
• stickers
• tiny paint palatte and paint brush
• inflatable ball
• a few miniature versions of our favourite books
• a Lett’s Guide for each child in literacy and maths
• two handwriting books provided by school
• national curriculum print outs provided by school

Catering

• two tupperware boxes (yes we are that rock and roll) for the many picnics we will be having, also useful for storing cables
• three sporks
• three camping bowl with lid type things, so the children can have breakfast in hotel rooms
• two 750ml water bottles and one 500ml one

Other stuff

• five silk sleeping bag liners
• four travel towels
• three head torches
• travel washing line
• sarong
• sewing kit
• Point It, visual dictionary
• Swiss Army knife
• miniature Sharpie for labelling parcels and naming stuff
• small roll of duct tape for emergency repairs
• travel clock
• two laundry bags
• one waterproof swimming bag
• three booster seats (for the first few months we’ll be hiring a lot of cars)
• reusable shopping bag
• Lonely Planet guides for first two destinations

Paperwork and money

• passports
• tickets
• print out of intinerary
• vaccination records
• international driving licence
• UK driving licence
• spare passport photos for border visas
• vast numbers of credit and debit cards in the hope that at any one time, something will work
• temporary tattoos for the children with my mobile phone number (very useful present from Paula)

Luggage

• 65l zip open backpack
• 45l top opening backpack
• 3 x children’s backpacks
• messenger bag which folds flat, to use most days
• small shoulder bag
• two money belts to keep valuables safely out of sight
• packable duffle bag for booster seats during early part of trip and extra space or an overnight bag

Amazingly, everything on the list fits into the luggage except for my camera and our bigger shoes.  And if you’re still reading, you deserve a prize.  You can choose between sachets of gelatin or some previously used, but not dried out, Play Doh.  Leave your address in the comments.  Don’t say I’m not good to you.

Three Weeks

Three weeks.  Three weeks.  THREE WEEKS!  That’s not very long, is it?

I finally feel like I’m getting there, like my to do list might get done.  Have a look at it, it’s a forest of felled tasks.  There are still quite a lot of things in cupboards that need to be put in boxes, but I don’t think it’s an unmanageable job.  School harvest festival on Thursday is going to come in very useful on the kitchen cupboard front.  I’ve done a fair amount of the necessary admin, there’s more to do, but a lot of it is last minute stuff.  I’ve accepted that there are some things I simply won’t get round to.  And that’s OK.  Our new bedroom curtains can wait.

I’ve even started packing.  Normally I’m a night before sort of packer, but for nine months, that’s possibly too lackadaisical.  So a corner of our bedroom is piled high with first aid kits, thermal underwear, swimming costumes and craft stuff.  Expect a full unexpurgated list soon.

The children have eight days left at school.  That’s eight more mornings of, have you cleaned your teeth hurry up and put on your shoes where is your water bottle.

Our recent weekends have been a blur of social activity, and it’s due to get busier.  I’ve also been squeezing in as many lunches and coffees with friends as I can while the children are at school.  Much to their chagrin.   Although it’s sad to say goodbye to people, it’s also been a real pleasure to see so many friends in a relatively short space of time.  Too often, I let these things slip.

Having spent three years batting this around in my head and worrying about the tiny details, I am strangely calm.  And properly, genuinely, fizzy feeling in my chest, excited.  Not long now.

Who needs toys?

People often ask me about our packing list, and what we’re planning to take.  What about toys, they ask.  Just a little art stuff I say, that’ll keep them busy.  Maybe a frisbee, or an inflatable ball.  We don’t want to carry too much.

The truth is, my children don’t really play with toys very much.  They’d far rather utilise a household impliment in an innapropriate way.  But when it comes to travelling, I think the old ‘in my day we had to make do with a sharpened stick’ thing, will come in very useful…

Love

They are a bit frayed, a dull grey colour caused by years of saliva, and they don’t smell very nice.  But although I am ruthlessly jettisoning many of our belongings and enjoying the fact that and our house is finally starting to look a little less full, some things are so precious they will never be thrown out.  This collection of fiercly loved friends will be circumnavigating the globe with us, and hopefully returning safely home again.

This week’s Writing Workshop and Gallery prompt is ‘emotions’.

Maintenance Issues

I’m often asked, what are you going to take with you?  You’ll have to travel very light.  And I reply, yes, yes we will, just a few clothes, hardly any toys, only what we can carry.  It’s OK I say, we can wash our things every day.  We’ll only need three or four outfits each.  The conversation usually stops there.  I can tell that they think I’m weird.

You see, pillows and mince aside, I’ve always been quite low maintenance.

OK Steve, you can stop spluttering into your coffee now.  You have no idea how lucky you are.  I could be spending your whole salary on shoes.

Grooming is like a foreign language, spoken by other women. I know the essentials, how to order a beer, say, but will never be fluent.  I’m mystified.  How do people find the time?  And the inclination?  How do they know what to do?  Armpits get shaved if I’m going swimming, legs are waxed when it becomes too hot to wear opaque tights, eyebrows are always bit less kempt than I’d like.  When I get one thing under control, something else sprouts.  If I lived in record obsessed India, I would try for the hairiest legs medal.  As it is, in our hairless culture, I’m constantly playing catch up.

I don’t own a hairdryer, get embarrassed at the hairdressers when they ask.  I rarely wear makeup.  When I do, I don’t really know how to put it on.  I struggle to look smart.  In my younger, more corporate days, this was sometimes a problem, suits didn’t suit me.  I like pretty, pointy shoes but I only own a couple of pairs, and can never wear them without pain.   I can’t understand how you could possibly wear them all day.  I’m usually to be found in Birkenstocks.  Weddings and black tie events don’t come around very often, but when they do, I sweat for weeks over what to wear.  I never get it quite right.  If I remember the earrings, I forget the hat.

But when it comes to travelling, minimal clothes, no hairdryers, few shoes means less weight in my backpack.  And that’s a very good thing.

I can use one bottle of shampoo to wash my hair, body and clothes.  I can wear the same sandals and t-shirts for months on end.  I won’t have to accessorise or try to keep up with the shiny, groomed women I normally see around me.  It will be liberating to let go of this constant battle.  No one looks smart when they’re camping or staying in budget guesthouses.  I’ll fit right in.  I will be in my element.

So if you happen to be in South East Asia next spring, and see a scruffy woman with fuzzy legs, trailed by three small, rather grubby children and a stubbly husband, do stop us and say hi.

This week I picked this prompt in the Sleep is for the Weak writing workshop: “Describe a ‘letting go’ that made you happy, rather than sad”