There are two types of travellers. One of them is not rational

In a movie I watched recently, the female protagonist decided to go on a trip. She walked into her bedroom, grabbed a suitcase and began throwing clothes breezily inside. After filling her case, she picked up a hair dryer from the top of her bureau, placed it tenderly on the clothes and zipped the case shut. Then she picked it up, shut her bedroom door and was off on her holiday.

Just watching the scene made me anxious. For one thing, the woman didn’t pack any toiletries – no toothbrush, moisturiser, sunscreen or make-up. I guess when you have a well-dried head of hair, no one notices your skin or teeth?

For another thing, I couldn’t imagine packing for a trip a few minutes before leaving home. I need weeks just to work out what I’m going to take. I make lists, I plan outfits, I stock up on travel-sized cosmetics and I use those cute little packing cubes in my bag.

I am travelling overseas in a couple of weeks for the first time since the pandemic began. I was not the most easygoing traveller before the borders were shut, and spending 2½ years at home hasn’t helped. I find myself being even more meticulous in my planning than usual.

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What if I lose my reading glasses? Better pack a spare pair. What if I snap my bra strap? Better pack an extra bra. What if I develop a rash? Better pack a tube of cream. What if I run out of underwear? Better pack at least 23 pairs.

Now, I am not going to a country without pharmacies, clothes shops or convenience stores. I know this because I am travelling with my partner, and we are visiting his birthplace, and he has assured me (sighing deeply and rolling his eyes) that there are shops there, just like here in Australia! But of course, this is not about logic. This is about travel! My rational brain knows that I can buy bras and reading glasses and undies overseas. But my travel brain knows only that I am leaving home, travelling to an unknown place a long way away. As far as my brain’s concerned, I may as well be going to Mars.

As far as my brain’s concerned, I may as well be going to Mars.

All my clothes need to be freshly washed, even if they are clean. I cannot risk landing with a stain on my outfit, even though my partner assures me they have laundries at our destination, too. I also plan my carry-on bag: earplugs, eye masks, medications, books, lollies, facial mists, mints, toothpaste, phone charger, moisturiser and a couple of spare pairs of undies. (I do not generally change my underwear during the day at home, let alone on a 12-hour flight, but my travel brain can never be too prepared.)