Packing Hell

So I just bought myself a three-day weekend in Yogyakarta, Indonesia’s cultural hub, which means I’ll be spending the better part of New Year’s Day in transit rather than throwing up last night’s vodka and pretzels into a toilet.

Check out my accommodations. Thank god for e-tickets.

I was initially scared to travel alone, but I figured that if I don’t try it once — when I’m young and don’t really hold my life or limbs in high regard — I’d really beat myself up in the future.

To show that I was serious, I bought myself a backpack, though its only merits are a waterproof bottom sheath and a laptop case. Due to its spartan size, I realize now that I’ll have to pick the skimpiest, lightest, smallest clothes I have because the rest of the space will be taken up by said laptop, camera and an extra pair of shoes.

It’s every travel newbie’s mistake, I believe, to over-pack but forget the essentials. Do I need sunblock? Do I need to get one of those sports shoes which are a cross between trainers and ballet flats? Do I need a windbreaker? How about a sequined party dress, on the off chance I might go clubbing (some baby seals)? How about prophylactics?

Rifling through my closet has also brought on some realizations. I am in extreme lack of comfortable cargo pants, sensible shirts and a good pair of sneakers to go with them. Though I suppose I could just as easily hike up a Hindu temple in high heels and a miniskirt — I imagine I’d be good at that.

All in all, the preparation time has made me realize that maybe I’m not as travel-ready as I thought, surrounding myself in skirts and cardigans all my life, the attire of a purely urban pampered princess.

But I’m totally up for the challenge of making this trip as easy for me as possible, yes, even if it’s a domestic destination just an hour away by flight.


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