Quite a few times I’ve heard backpackers complain about weight limits or maximum bag allowances on airlines. They haul 40-pound monstrosities that limit how comfortable they are, how fast they can run to catch the train, and how often they have to take a taxi because their bag is too heavy. They end up going a little slower, seeing a little less, and paying a little more. When they look at mine, they ask me where my “real” bag is.
I have traveled around the world on extended trips up to 9 months long with nothing but a 20 liter daypack, through summers, winters, jungles, cities, and everywhere else. It weighs less than fifteen pounds and fits in the overhead compartment on the plane.
I never have to worry about lost bags, check-in times, or waiting by the conveyor belt. I am the first person in line for customs, and stroll right in. I spend nothing on laundry or taxis. I am the first to finish packing every morning. I never spend more than five seconds trying to find something at the bottom of the bag. I wander around for hours with my pack, just because I can.
It’s a fun game I like to play with myself find to be an amusing intellectual challenge, but despite year after year of life on the road, I have met less than half a dozen people who do the same thing, and we are endlessly perplexed. Sadly, I have never been able to convince anyone to follow this plan. But I’ll give it one last try. It’s for your own good.
