Two weeks, one bag

Every trip I've regretted packing for, I overpacked for. Nobody comes home wishing they'd brought more stuff. So over a lot of airports I built a rule: two weeks, one bag, no exceptions.

The system is boring on purpose. Everything earns its spot twice — if it can't serve two jobs, it stays home. One pair of shoes that can run and walk into dinner. Layers instead of outfits. Merino because it refuses to smell.

Laundry is the unlock. A sink, travel detergent, and twenty minutes gets you infinite runway. You're not packing for fourteen days; you're packing for four, on repeat.

The real payoff isn't logistics. It's the head space. When everything you're carrying fits under a seat, you say yes faster — the detour, the extra day, the train instead of the flight. Pack light. Travel far. It's not just a headline on my site; it's the whole philosophy.