Tales from the Towers: Life's a journey - pack lightly

I brought my suitcase up from the storage room and started the - for me - painful procedure of packing. I stand there with a blouse in my hand trying to decide: will I need this one on this trip? It's kind of light and in another month San Diego may become cool, so, no! I put it back into the closet and pick up another one with longer sleeves!

Many years ago when I traveled with my late husband, packing used to be such an exciting game! Strangely enough it was he who always wanted to take the whole house along while I always wanted to travel light.

So he used to put things into our two suitcases, and as soon as he wasn't around I used to take them out.

It became a stealthy and silent war. Sometimes at night, in the dark, I noticed that he was quietly getting out of bed, so I said:

"I know, I know, you're going to check the suitcases! OK, you go, and I'll come along too!"

"No, let's not! After all it's the middle of the night. We'll do it in the morning... let's go back to sleep."

But of course I couldn't fall asleep because I didn't trust him and I knew that as soon as was asleep, he'd be down there stuffing my suitcase with items he was sure I would need but had neglected to pack..

While he was out at work, I went through his suitcase.

Now why would he want to take two cameras? One isn't enough? And this striped shirt which I hated - where would he wear this? At least not anywhere he'd be with me!

Once he got back home he would head straight for my suitcase:

"We get there at the end of October," he'd point out, "You need a coat, a warm one! I see only your summer things. Chicago is called the windy city, remember?"

"And where's your bathing suit? We could have some sunny days and want to go to a beach! Will you go buy one at the last moment? Actually you need two bathing suits, another one just in case. And where's your hair dryer? You'll certainly need one!"

"I'm going to visit my daughter for heaven's sake, I'm sure she has a hair dryer! I'm also sure that if needed, she'd lend me one of her coats!"

"You're kidding. One of her coats? You won't be able to button it up."

In truth we had great times packing, and I miss them. Now I pack myself, and where's the fun? No stealthy trips in the night and no discussions regarding the weather on another continent.

However, there was one item he refused to pack, and these were my… pink boots. I had bought them when a sudden summer storm caught us in Munich and I had to exchange the sandals I was wearing for something more solid. We ran into the first shoe store we came across but faced the usual problem of size. I have small feet and the choice of small shoes is limited.

But there was that pair of pink boots, and with me it was love at first sight.

Not with my husband. He looked at them doubtfully and remarked: "OK, if this is the only thing we can find...."

I loved those pink boots forever. And I wanted them along on every trip. But my husband would rather pack our stove than my pink boots.

"I'm not going anywhere with you when you're wearing them!"

"Oh yeah? And your brown and yellow striped shirt? I'm not going anywhere with you when you wear that!"

The boots and the shirt went in and out of the suitcases. And, when we finally reached our destination and unpacked, we were first surprised and then doubled over laughing when we found items in our suitcases we didn't even know we had taken along. During our packing contest we had tossed things in and out not considering whether they were needed or not but only to score points against each other.

Packing for our trip home was not always mishap-free either. Once, on our way back from a Caribbean cruise, a bottle of rum broke in my handbag. My husband tried his best to salvage and clean up, but for a while we moved in cloud of interesting aroma. People around us sniffed the air discreetly, and others less discreetly… 

After all those years of joint packing, packing all by myself is quite lonely.

And not only packing…

Lucca