I like to consider myself a semi-professional when it comes to packing after spending the last 2ish years doing almost nothing but, so here are some words of stupidity from someone who still sucks at packing!
So, you’re going on a road trip? Been there. The prep is crucial to the whole experience, yeah? Sure. I recently got rid of nearly everything I owned except what I thought I would need living out of a car for 3 or so weeks, not even knowing where exactly I was going to be visiting. Turns out that BC is still pretty cold mid-March and maybe I shouldn’t have gotten rid of all my winter clothes. Live and learn.
What you’ll pack:
- Healthy food so you can cook all your meals at hostels to save money
- Instruments to play out of the back of your car at some picturesque lookout
- Fancy camera to capture all the beautiful moments you’ll have
- Books! You’ll have so much time to read!
- Camping equipment
- French press, duh
- Clothes that don’t suit the season you’re travelling to
- Cute decorations for the car
- Emotional baggage
- Soap that you’ll leave somewhere but replace with something from a free bin at a hostel
- Multiple hat options
- Yoga mats, for doing yoga…
- Laundry detergent?
What you’ll actually need:
- Clif bars, because you can’t be bothered to cook
- Hair elastics!
- A freaking coat
- A water bottle
- Podcasts to listen to
- An aux cord
- A map?
- A plan?
- Comfortable clothes
- A charger for the fancy camera you brought
- Hand sanitizer
- Wifi to find the vegan options near you
- Hand cream
- All that car stuff that you are supposed to always have
- Good spirits
But really though, if you cook your own food on road trips, please teach me how to be like you. I can’t do another 3 weeks of McDonalds and junk food from various gas stations. I really can’t. I’m just saying, those vagabonds I follow on Instagram must have some real talent because all the road trips I’ve been on have been dirty and unorganized and sleep-deprived. None of that string-lights-hung-above-a-cozy-bed-in-the-trunk, coffee-made-in-tin-mugs-over-a-campfire, writing-poetry-in-the-passenger-seat shit. We had fun, though. It just wasn’t pretty.