What To Pack for a Year on the Road

I’ve heard them all: the economy’s bad, you should get a secure job; Africa’s dangerous, go to Europe; if you save up now, you can go anywhere you want when you retire.

My response has been consistent: thanks, but no thanks.  I know what life expects you to do, and what people tell you to do, but I also know that you only get one life.  We’re put on this earth for around 80 years, and we’ve only got one shot to make it a fulfilling one. One that we’ll look back on with reverence.

I’m about to embark on an adventure that is solely what I want it to be, and I’ll figure the rest out when I get back.  The trip is an open-ended (read: one-way ticket), 8-12 month trek that will take me and my friend Chris from South Africa up the east coast of Africa to Ethiopia, and then to India, the Himalayas, some of the Stans, China, and Southeast Asia.

So if I’m not worrying about a job, dangers of the road, or spending money while I’m young, I’ve got to be worried about something, right?  As it turns out, I am.  What exactly do you pack for a year on the road?

There are hundreds of opinions out there, from what kind of backpack to buy to the amount and types of clothing to bring to the types of preparations you should make before setting off. I’ve thought and researched long and hard about this, and I’m going to give you a rundown of what I’m bringing. I think it’s a comprehensive list that will serve me, or you, just fine.

The Backpack

My backpack. My home. An Osprey Kestrel 38 (as in 38 liters)

The backpack is the heart of all travelers’ gear. It’s basically your snail’s shell for the entirety of your trip, so you want it to be something comfortable, accessible, and easy to manage. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of packs on the market, all purporting to help you with this feature or that. The Kestrel 38 is by no means the be-all, end-all of packs, but it works well for me. First of all, 38 liters is about the upper limit of what can be considered a carry-on bag on most budget airlines. Read: budget. On some larger airlines, I’ve seen people stuff what look like Jeeps into the overhead compartments. This is partially due to the new checked bag fees, which, using a 38 L pack, I’ll be avoiding. This is because on a budget trip, I’ll be flying with cheap airlines like RyanAir, IndiGo, and AirAsia, which dramatically limit what you can bring. With a pack this size, I’ll never have to worry about some baggage handlers throwing my stuff around. The pack also has a built-in rain cover that folds out of the front compartment. This is invaluable on long trips, when it will inevitably rain, so that I don’t have to worry about my things getting soaked, and then spending days waiting for everything to dry so it doesn’t get moldy. Two zipper pockets on the hip belt are a nice plus, as is a zipper at the bottom so I can access my gear from the top or the bottom.

For those of you looking at that picture and thinking, Are you crazy? How can you fit all your gear for an entire year in that tiny little pack?, let me just say that the number one thing that happens on any trip is always overpacking. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten to the end of a trip and spent one day specifically wearing and using all the things I hadn’t worn or used yet just to justify the fact that I brought them in the first place.  On a year-long trip, extra stuff means extra weight. I want to bring as little as possible. If I’m really hard-up for some item, I can always pick it up on the road, which is better than bringing something I like but don’t need and then having to decide between carrying the extra weight the whole trip or jettisoning something I really don’t want to lose. Think about it: people live in these countries. Do they freeze to death at night?

Socks and Underwear (and Toilet Paper)

Socks, underwear, and the invaluable "emergency toilet paper"

I’ve brought six pairs of underwear and eight pairs of socks, all (except the one pictured) stuffed into these little sacks. One sack is a water bottle holder, and the other is a towel bag. The underwear is Under Armour, quick-drying and sturdy, which is so important on a long trip. The socks are part merino wool, part nylon, part polyester. Two of the eight pairs are heavy-duty hiking socks. The last thing you want on a long trip is cotton, which holds water, gets heavy, grows mold, and stinks to high heaven. Not that these microfibers don’t smell (trust me), but in a pinch, I can wash them and hang them up to dry overnight, which would never happen with cotton. By stuffing everything in these tiny sacks, I can keep them separate during the trip and never lose anything in the deep recesses of my pack, something that is far more common than I’d like it to be.

The emergency toilet paper is something my dad taught me always to bring, because “you never know when you’re going to need toilet paper.” Amen, dad. I can say that, from experience, this has come in handy more than any other single item I’ve ever packed. In many countries, you have to bring your own toilet paper to the bathroom. That’s reason enough to bring some. But in addition to that, it can be used to wrap cuts so you don’t have to ruin a shirt, can act as extra padding for a foot blister if you run out of bandaids, and can be used as tissues or a rudimentary wash cloth if need be.

Shirts and Pants

I'm too sexy for my shirts (and pants)

The key to shirts is multiple uses. I want things I can layer. Giant wool sweaters are nice, but unless you’re going exclusively to a cold climate and are going to be wearing them the whole time, they’re heavy and take up too much space. In total, I have four microfiber shirts: two long-sleeve crew neck, one long-sleeve with a collar and a half-zip, and one tee-shirt. The collar can help to keep the sun off my neck, and the long sleeves can easily be rolled up to form makeshift tee shirts. I have two button-down shirts, likewise with collar and rollable sleeves, that can double as nicer, going-out shirts if I need. Tee shirts aren’t exclusively American, but most other cultures wear collars more often than we do. Even if, at 6’2″, I’ll never blend in to the crowd in Mozambique, at least I’ll look classy when I stick out.  I have a pair of long-john thermals that roll up really small, which will be great as a base layer on cold, mountain mornings, and a pair of convertible pants that zip off to become shorts. I really don’t love these kind of pants, but they’re useful, dry quickly, and are as good as anything for a hike. I have one more pair of nicer brown pants, pictured below with a few special items.

What to Wear on the Plane

What I'm wearing on the plane

Planes can get cold, so always wear a fleece or jacket, or both, as well as long pants and shoes, on a plane. Even if you’re flying from Miami to Cancun for a week on the beach, the worst thing you can do is wear shorts, flip flops, and a tank top on the plane. When you get up to 30,000 feet, you’ll be regretting packing those warmer clothes away.

Here is one of the long-sleeved shirts I mentioned before, the nicer pair of brown pants, a handkerchief, a belt, underwear, socks, a raincoat, and a lightweight fleece. The fleece is the perfect layer of warmth for cool, crisp nights, and makes for a good layer under other, warmer clothes. The raincoat has a zipper inside that can hook into a mid-weight fleece for added warmth.

Warmth, Sleep, and Cleanliness

Fleece attachment to raincoat, towel, little blue sleeping bag liner

Here’s the fleece. It’s not too snazzy on its own, but it’s warm, zips into my rain coat, and truthfully, form takes a back seat to function on this kind of trip. I highly recommend a microfiber towel, the kind that claim to absorb ten thousand times their weight in water. They really do absorb quite a bit for their size, and they dry relatively quickly. This is an absolute must if you’re traveling. I’m bringing the silk sleeping bag liner in lieu of a sleeping bag. For one, you can see the size difference. It’s also an easy way to keep myself off of suspect sheets at budget hostels, help protect my legs and arms from malaria-bearing mosquitoes at night, and add a small layer of warmth. Most people like the peace of mind of feeling a sheet over them when they sleep. This does just that, and for far less space than a sleeping bag. Silk is also, pound for pound, stronger than steel, so it passes the test for holding up on the road.

Yay! Swimming!

Bathing suit and sleep shorts, all in one

A bathing suit is always an essential item. And on a long trip where space is an issue, these will be long and comfortable enough to double as sleeping shorts, so that I don’t have to pack an extra pair of basketball shorts for a single purpose. The best part? If they get dirty from being used every day, I can just wash them while I’m taking a shower, and they’ll dry in no time.

Hats, Hankies, and Help

Hats, handkerchiefs, a dry bag, and chargers

I’m bringing a baseball hat (New York Mets, of course) for general use: sun shield, casual dress, and of course, bad hair days. The bucket hat offers even more sun protection, although it looks dorkier, and the wool beanie will be perfect for cold nights. I always pack my chargers (for iPod, camera, etc.) in a cardboard box (this one is from an old cell phone) because it has enough structural integrity to hold together even when in the middle of a backpack. The dry bag is a safeguard – if I leave my backpack at a hostel and go hiking with a smaller, shoulder bag, I can put any electronics inside the dry bag while I’m on the hike. Handkerchiefs (or bandanas) are some of the most versatile, reusable items you can pack. They can replace tissues, keep your hair out of your eyes like a headband, be tied around your head as a sleeping mask to keep the light out, function as a clean plate for a sandwich on a hike (and a napkin!), wrap a cut if emergency toilet paper just isn’t strong enough, and serve as a better washcloth than toilet paper, too.

All the Little Things You Don’t Want to Forget

Miscellaneous, and very useful, items

Here’s a camera case for my digital camera and camcorder, a simple black and white composition notebook with a pen, a Kindle with over 100 books on it, a deck of cards, and iPod touch with headphones and a microphone, two smaller note pads, a money belt, a duct tape wallet, sunglasses, a frisbee, a padlock, and a “survival kit in a sardine can.” Okay, let’s take these one by one. A digital camera and camcorder (Flip video) are not essential, but everyone seems to take them, and of course, who wouldn’t want documented records of their trip to some degree? The reason I got the Flip was its size, a little longer and a little thinner than that of a deck of cards. I’m not shooting BBC’s Planet Earth here, so the quality of the video compared to the size is about as good as you can find on the market. The camera is a compact digital, one that offers 18x optical zoom, as well as a 28mm, wide-angle option, all while fitting into your pocket. A great travel camera if I’ve ever seen one. I’m also bringing mini tripods for both, and spare memory cards.

The notebooks are invaluable for writing down train/bus schedules, contact info of people you meet on the road, and generally just journaling. The smaller ones can fit in a pocket, while the bigger one is good for days spent lounging and writing. The frisbee and cards are necessary diversions for a long trip, and the money belt is useful, tied around the waist under the shirt (or better, under your pants) to keep spare cash and your passport away from hit-and-run snatchers. The padlock works with a length of wire to tie my backpack to a railing on a bus or a bedpost in a hostel.  The way I think of it is, if someone is going to mug you, they’re going to mug you, and there’s not a whole lot you can do about it. But you can take basic precautions to deter petty theft, of which there will be far more than violent crime.

Sunglasses are necessary, of course, polarized being better than not to keep the glare from the ocean, snow, or lakes out of your eyes.  The duct tape wallet is good for a bit of cash that you can theoretically hand over to anyone who asks for your wallet, while keeping all your cards in your real wallet. I’ve never had to use this, and also am making the assumption that someone will hold you up for it rather than just rip it out of your pocket, but it takes up no space and can’t hurt.

The iPod touch is the best little item I’ve ever purchased. It gives me the internet in my pocket (provided there’s wireless) and a calculator, a place for photos from home, and a pocket full of music to keep me entertained during the trip. The microphone on the headphones is key, too, because that lets me use the Skype app when wireless is available, and make phone calls right from my iPod. The sardine can, well… the link above says it better than I ever could.

Don’t Forget a Folder

Folder for important papers

A little folder comes in handy to keep papers (flight/hostel reservations, your itinerary, passport photocopies, etc.) separate. I also have this little yellow book that’s a proof of vaccinations. Many countries require you to show proof of vaccination against Yellow Fever or other diseases in order to be granted an entry visa. This yellow book, or a similar card, is an international standard. I’ve chosen a half-sized, envelope folder. I’ll have to fold all my papers in half, but I still think it will take up less space than a full-sized, 8.5×11 folder.

Stuff Sacks

What cute little bags!

Here are a bunch of little bags I’ve taken from a variety of places: a hot cocoa pouch, a whiskey bottle, and another whiskey bottle. In these, just like in my underwear and sock bags, I’ve stuffed a variety of items. In the purple bag is health: basic medicine, like cortisone cream, Neosporin, ibuprofen, acetominophen, and band-aids. The green, Santa bag, is sleep: a headlamp, eye mask, ear plugs, and mini alarm clock. The brown bag is laundry: 25 feet of twine, six clothes pins, and six dice to play with. Okay, the dice aren’t laundry, but they can’t fit inside a playing card box. The little black box is for the e’s: eyes and electric. Spare contact lenses and adaptor plugs for all the regions I’m traveling to. Note that adaptor plugs only fit a plug into a socket – they don’t convert the current. That’s another thing: these days, many electronic items come in 110v/220v form, so they’re not exclusive to the USA’s wimpy 110 volt system. The days of power converters is coming to an end, so if you can buy an item that works with both voltages, buy it, and avoid the extra weight and space of a converter. Sadly, not all of my electronics work at both voltages, but most of them do, so adaptor plugs are all I’ll need. Lastly, a small roll of duct tape is always good to have. It can be used to remove warts, waterproof a bandage, act as its own bandage, wrap a splint around a limb, repair tears in bags or mosquito nets, hold broken shoes together, and much more. It’s one of the most versatile items on the planet.

Don’t Forget Your Bathroom Stuff

All the bathroom stuff

Toothbrush, deodorant, razor, floss, etc. I don’t need to go into all that, but I should say that the bathroom bag you bring should have a hanging hook. This will make it easy to bring everything you need at once, especially when (often) there is no counter space. Some Dr. Bronner’s magic soap works as soap, shampoo, toothpaste (in a pinch), laundry detergent, and a variety of other uses, and you only need a drop or two for a good lather. The peppermint is a favorite of mine because it’s so fresh that it wakes you right up like you’ve just been given smelling salts. It’s hands-down the best soap I’ve ever used. Contact lens solution is essential (Costco sells a huge three-pack of Kirkland brand for 8 bucks), and malaria pills (doxycycline) are a must, unless, of course, you want to take your chances with malaria. I’d rather admit my feeble humanity and take the precaution.

The Great Shoe Debate

Keep footwear simple!

Look, even as a guy, I own tons of shoes. Sneakers, nicer walking shoes, sports sandals, flip flops, dressy leather sandals, slippers, snow boots, hiking boots, and on and on. These are the hardest things to pack, because A) they don’t fold, and B) they’re heavier than clothes. But think about it: if you really had to wear only two or three pairs of shoes, could you do it? I’d say so. I’m going with a pair of lightweight, hiking trail shoes. They feel like sneakers and have great treads, as you can see.  I can’t play basketball in them, but then again, they’re great for grass sports like soccer. Flip flops will give me something nice and simple to wear around the hostel to give my feet a chance to rest. If it turns out that I absolutely need sneakers, I can always grab a pair. But having size 13 feet really makes shoes one of the hardest things to justify packing.

So, that’s it. A small pack, a few layered items of clothing, and some miscellaneous stuff to entertain me and keep me clean and healthy along the way. I hope I’ve got everything I need. One thing I can say, though, is I’ll feel far more happy with what I packed and how I look and feel, even if I have to buy something on the road, than those people with the giant, 70+ liter packs who look more like pack mules than travelers.

I hope this gives everyone some insight into a well-planned packing job, and inspires some of you to live with less, even if it’s in the comfort of your own homes. Getting rid of my unneeded possessions has been one of the most cathartic things I’ve ever done. As for me, first stop: Cape Town, South Africa, where it’s approaching summer. I’ll check in from the road!