I've forgotten how to pack

And three other things I learnt when I left the country for the first time in four years...

Joan Didion is relaxed because she's nailed the art of packing

Thanks for subscribing to The Shift. If you're already a paying member, thank you. You make this newsletter and The Shift podcast possible. If not, and you'd like to get this newsletter in your inbox every week, be part of The Shift community and help me make the podcast you love, why not join?

I'm writing this from Reykjavik. TBH I didn't plan to, but I forgot to book this week off in last week's newsletter (!) and I didn't get a chance to do it before we left, so here I am. Sitting in an eyrie above Reykjavik city centre (see my pretty fabulous view below), having packed too much technology, and pondering the fact I haven't left the UK since November 2018. And then it was to the same place for the exact same reason: combining J's birthday and Iceland Noir, possibly the best book festival in the world IMHO, where I'm doing some chairing.

View from the hotel window at 10am this morning, just as the sun was coming up

After decades of taking international travel for granted and being fortunate enough to be able to call it work, plus having family halfway round the world for several years and more Mediterranean holidays than is decent, I've notched up a carbon footprint to match. So it's salutory to think that I haven't left the UK in four years. FOUR. In fact, last time I did, I had a dinky little burgundy passport. (Sob.) The recallibration is partly down to the pandemic, of course, plus a radical change of lifestyle and circumstances. Apart from travelling down south to see family and for work, I haven't packed a suitcase in that long either. And – surprise! – I no longer know how to.

1. I've forgotten how to pack.
TBH I have never been a master packer, despite decades spent on magazines that annually ran articles on the art of packing featuring tips from women who had the so-called capsule wardrobe down and boasted of their ability to pack for a fortnight with only hand luggage. Women I wouldn't have believed really existed if I hadn't worked with some of them. Women who make lists before they go and then rigorously stick to them. Women like Joan Didion. 

If you waste as much time on the internet as I do, you may have come across her infamous packing list before. It's been doing the rounds again recently because her possessions have been up for auction in New York (Abre numa nova janela) (yesterday, actually), and the online world has been alive with fans (of which I would be one if I lived on the East Coast of America) paying homage at the shrine to her material existence. Didion's packing list is quite something. Like everything else about her, it is... considered, organised, minimalist. Joan kept her packing list taped to the inside of her closet door so she could pack and leave for a job at a moment's notice. As you can see (below) it's spartan to say the least. Disciplined, to the point of monastic (give or take the fags and booze). 2 skirts, 2 jerseys, 1 sweater, 2 pairs of shoes (strangely self-indulgent for such an abstemious packer), cigarettes, bourbon, typewriter... I'm paraphrasing but that's broadly it.

Once I'd emptied the contents of my wardrobe onto the bed and then put it back again, I decided I had to try to inject some Didion-discipline into my approach to luggage. (Only slightly influenced by the fact I live with a man who started packing for himself at the age of six and would happily shove five t-shirts and five pairs of socks in his laptop bag and go. He looks at suitcases with something bordering on animosity. I've just checked this doesn't offend him and he said, "I'm not entirely sure of their function"! So I rest my case.) Anyway, in the spirit of packing like Joan, I wrote my own version of the list. Here goes:

2 pairs jeans
1 pair joggers
1 pair trousers
1 skirt
Trainers
Boots
5 shirts
5 t-shirts
Big jumper
Small jumper
Smart shirt (what?)
Blazer
Padded coat
Lighter jacket
Robe
3 bras, 6 knickers (plus a couple just in case), 6 socks (ditto)
Laptop, iphone, 2 chargers
And that's before I started on the cleanser, toner, cotton wool, moisturiser (one day, one night), deoderant, tooth stuff, hair oil, plasters, paracetemol, HRT, makeup... 

You get the picture. I'm hopeless. I was going to take a picture of my packing pile as visual proof but it was too embarassing. I tried to harness #WhatWouldJoanDo and managed to cull a pair of jeans, the skirt, the "smart shirt" (WTF?!) and blazer. Which may have been ill-advised since those were there for work. Which I am, actually, here to do... 

I would love to be one of those people who arrives back home with a (cabin-sized) suitcase containing only dirty clothes, but I just can't do it. Whether I'm away for two days or two weeks I have to cater for every eventuality. What if... I think and bung in that dress or skirt or "smarter" shoes, which I am 99.9% not going to wear. What if I need to go somewhere glam? (When has that ever happened, since I left magazine-land?) In goes the blouse and blazer. And jewellery. And more makeup. What if I need a robe to go down to the hotel spa? When the hell did I last "go down to the hotel spa"? Never, that's when. 

I'm not sure what this says about me, but I'm pretty sure it says something. I'm sure the psychologists amongst you will let me know. And if you're not a psychologist but do have some fail-safe packing advice, please let me know that too, as I sincerely hope it won't be another four years before I leave the country again.

2. I live in fear of running out of books.
Even if I'm away for less than a week. And even if I have dozens of books in the kindle app on my phone. It's almost pathological. Books make me feel at home, I guess. This time I managed to narrow it down to four (yes, I know, for just about six days). Here's what I took.

Clockwise from bottom centre:
• A Slow Fire Burning by Paula Hawkins (Abre numa nova janela) – I've read this before, just as I've interviewed Paula about this book before, but I'm rereading it prior to interviewing her in Reykjavik on Friday. Long way to go to interview someone who lives a twenty minute walk from you, but Reykjavik is beautiful so I'm far from complaining. Anyway, to return to the book. To my mind, this is her best yet, a twisty, psychologically astute ensemble novel peopled by fascinating, fucked up women (largely). Highly recommend.
• The Book Of The Most Precious Substance by Sara Gran (Abre numa nova janela) – I'm a fan of Sara Gran's previous books, the Claire De Witt (Abre numa nova janela) mysteries and her witty horror, Come Closer (Abre numa nova janela), and this has most in common with the latter. This is a book of sex and spells set in the world of antiquarian bookselling – and if you're not hooked already who even are you?!
• The Best Of Everything by Rona Jaffe (Abre numa nova janela) – this is another work book and another one I've read before. I'm donning my fiction hat to meet a Christmas deadline and this American classic about four friends trying to make their way in fifties Manhattan is getting my head back in the zone.
• Strange Sally Diamond by Liz Nugent (Abre numa nova janela) – this is a proof, not out til next March, but in keeping with her previous books Lying In Wait (Abre numa nova janela), Skin Deep (Abre numa nova janela), Our Little Cruelties (Abre numa nova janela) and Unravelling Oliver (Abre numa nova janela), it's a gem. Twisty, black, sick (in both senses of the word) psychological thriller writing at its best. If you haven't discovered Liz's writing, delve into her backlist because you're in for a treat.

3. I've found the holy grail of suitcases. If you're in the market for a really great value, superlight, deceptively roomy suitcase, I'm your suitcase fairy, because this range of cases by Anyday at John Lewis is such a good price you'd expect it to be crap, but it really isn't. It comes in 55cm (cabin), 65cm (Sam size) and 75cm (quite big even for me), prices range £45-£65 and it comes in six colours. As you can imagine, they go out of stock almost as soon as they come in, so you have to keep your eye on the website. Or even better, sign up for an alert. It's worth it. John Lewis Anyday Girona suitcases. (Abre numa nova janela)#notanadjustafan

4. I'm European in spirit
And I really really really miss being able to join the EU passport holders queue. But I do have a nice Icelandic stamp in my shiny new (blue) passport...

• All packing tips very gratefully received!