Remember the 'What to pack" post? Well, it might not be entirely true. You see, what I've written was a plan but I went a bit overboard and my shopaholic tendency was no help afterwards. You know it is too much when you can't even close your trolley without crashing it to the max (not even sitting on it helps).
I remember landing in Lisbon, smiling to the window of the airplane, to the lovely little lights then remembering my 30 kilo heavy belonging waiting for me in the stomach of the big machine. I also remember saying to my mom "Mom, the hostel is so close, it's like 23 minutes metro and an easy 7 minute walk". I really thought that until I stepped out at Sao Sebastio and saw all these little tiles on the side way. The hill standing in front of me didn't help either, neither did the sight of my broken trolley - DAMMIT YOU WIZZAIR.
A week apart when I transported it from one place to another, in the mid-way, one of the wheels broke of, so I really wish I would have know that the whole City is covered in these tiles. I would definitely had more courage to tell my parents: Sorry mom and dad, but I'm opting for a backpack instead of the over-priced luggage you got for me on Christmas.
This is not a matter of comfort nor laziness - the weight and the size of your luggage will define a big chunk of your travelling experience and I can't stress this enough. Remember guys, less is more and the lighter the better (no fat shaming intended).
If I didn't already convinced you about packing light, let me tell you a story of me being the not thinking mess I am and traveling the american west coast with a trolley almost as big as me.
We (me and my friend Gabi) were standing with this cardboard for a long time as it seemed that the huge beast I used to carry was intimidating to the car drivers passing by. We ended up having a ride to Santa Barbara (different story) and I had a little bit of situation going on. First of all, I'm not the most muscular and strong person you can think of so I can really appreciate a helping hand most of the time. Here I am, trying to stuck my enormous trolley in the carrier rack without much of a success and the rest of the passengers are already in the car waiting for me to finally depart. I was suffering there for 5 long minutes when finally Gabi helped me, cause even lifting it was such a hard and devastating task I needed a minute or two to breathe normally again. This is not even the funny part, the comedy of the situation is that the guy who was driving was a freaking fitness coach with a muscle rate way bigger I could ever dream of an didn't think of helping me out at all. Maybe he thought this would be a good exercise for me to grow a minimum arm muscle.
I do however state that this was a unique experience because people usually help people (an ode to that wonderful human being who cached my terrified eyes looking at the staircase and decided to carry the luggage up on my first day here, you are the best).
