I try to avoid checking baggage like some people avoid taking out the trash, doing the dishes, or catching the plague. I don't remember the last time I checked luggage - years probably. I've had one too many encounters of misdirected luggage to bother anymore. If I can't cram it into a carry-on, then it's not going. Simple enough. When I went to Russia, I had my orange backpack, weighing maybe 20-30 pounds, and one piece of checked luggage (this was pre- anti-checking luggage days) that weighed a mere 16 pounds. And we were there for 7 weeks. Oh trust me, it's possible. The wonder of Ziploc bags can work miracles. Unpacking my suitcase that summer was like watching circus clowns pile out of their clown car. You were amazed at how much stuff was packed in there. And honestly, when you travel a lot and are in-and-out of airports, you realize quickly that half the staff you pack you don't need. I thankfully learned that early on in my travel days.
That plan isn't working for this trip. Two suitcases, a carry-on backpack, and a purse later - with a bathroom scale to prove it - I think I have everything I need. All 100 pounds of it. Now, granted, 50 pounds of that belongs to the village as I'm carrying supplies over for them. Hopefully I don't get stopped in customs and have to unpack any one of these.
Somehow I don't think I'll be accumulating 50 pounds of souvenirs for the trip home, unless I find a really stupendous piece of artwork or a small lion cub, so I should be able to stuff the smaller suitcase in the bigger one and call it a day. And check only one bag. Still one more than I would like, but I can't do anything about it. At least I've got some really great pink polka dot ribbon to flag my bags and matching Delta Gamma tags.
Now I'm just wondering whose bright idea it was to go to Africa for a month. Nerves are setting in.
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