Behind the Albergue Door: Inspiration Agony Adventure on the Camino de Santiago

will be doing. Well, in this case we know both of those things. So I’m going to come right out and say that you do not need a 70-litre backpack! I don’t care if you are travelling alone (and therefore can’t share toiletries and such), or have a large sleeping bag, or a cute and fluffy favourite jacket, or plan to really stock up on free grapes along the way. If you can’t fit everything into a 50-litre pack you have too much stuff. And that is being generous. Realistically, a well-packed 50-litre bag weighing 10 kilograms (22 pounds) or more is only going to be manageable for a large man in better shape than most of those showing up every day in St. Jean. You should shoot for 30-40 litres and 7 kilos (15 pounds). Nothing has more bearing on how much you enjoy your hike than the size and weight of your bag. On our hike I carried just under 10 kilos and Laynni around 7 and we found our bags to be reasonable. But if I could have found a way to drop another 2 or 3 kilos from my bag you’d have seen me dancing naked in the streets (sober this time). But everyone has their own list of priorities and things they “can’t live without”. Some of the things we carried that some people might be able to go without were long underwear, e-readers and chargers, rain pants, extra sunscreen and a set of lounging clothes (pajama pants, and at least one shirt not stiff and crusty with trail sweat).
    Now, after a considerable amount of observation and experience I have come up with a new system that I hope will clarify your packing goals. It is a far less technical method than most for measuring the relative size and weight of your backpack. In my opinion, it all comes down to how you handle your backpack when stopping at a restaurant for lunch.
    You easily carry it through the doorway in just one hand
    Great job! You have packed like a true champion, although inclement weather probably still deals you some adversity and it is possible your clothes occasionally run off on their own when left unattended.
    You saunter in with it draped over one shoulder
    Very acceptable. This means you have done well at eliminating all the truly superfluous items but are still able to track down a clean shirt now and again and aren’t stuck begging for a swipe of deodorant every morning.
    It takes both hands to lift it off the floor and you wobble slightly as you swing it onto your back
    You haven’t been quite as discerning as you should have been. You probably have a few items of clothing that you haven’t even worn yet and once that first burst of new energy after lunch starts to fade you routinely find yourself thinking of self-mutilation techniques that would allow you to get out of this mess with your pride intact.
    Someone else has to lift it onto your back while you grimace and tense up like a toddler taking a stubborn shit
    Nobody can explain what you were thinking when you packed that hardcover copy of the Bill Simmons Book of Basketball. And do you really need to be carrying a full week’s supply of yoghurt? Twenty kilometres per day is your limit and even by the end of that you are about as fun to be around as an angry case of gonorrhea.
    Your backpack requires its own chair because if it makes it down as far as the floor nothing short of a forklift will get it moving again
    You insist on carrying your laptop, backup bottles of shampoo and Just for Men hair dye, an expedition-calibre winter parka and a bag of rocks you are collecting to take home as souvenirs. You require daily motivational pep talks from your friends while they team up to clean and jerk your backpack into its usual position slowly crushing your vertebrae into something that resembles an old banana.
    Madeline’s Take
    When I write my memoirs I will note that the biggest mistake I made on this trip was underestimating the importance of a light pack. Lighter is better. Way better. Infinitely better.
    In terms of relative weight I am doing ok, I suppose. I fall somewhere in the middle of the pack. Maybe on the heavier side. I keep trying to justify my weight but I really could have done better.
    For instance. My sleeping bag. It’s like, 4 lbs. That’s a huge portion of my overall weight. It’s too big. It’s too warm. I didn’t think it would be a big deal when I was preparing for this journey. But it has really taken on a life of its own. My resentment towards any extra weight is growing. I have started to hold grudges against belongings I deem to be too