I never thought I’d become one of those “one-bag travelers” you see strutting through airports with nothing but a sleek backpack while the rest of us mere mortals wrestle with roller suitcases and overstuffed tote bags. Honestly, I used to mock them a bit. “Sure, mate, good luck with your three identical black t-shirts and single pair of pants for two weeks,” I’d think smugly while packing my fourth “just in case” sweater.
Then came The Incident.
Three years ago, I was flying from London to Barcelona for a friend’s wedding. My checked bag decided to take a holiday of its own – to Istanbul, apparently. For three days, I survived on emergency purchases and borrowing clothes from friends (nothing says “put-together wedding guest” like wearing your mate’s boyfriend’s dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up six times). When my luggage finally arrived, it was approximately four hours before my return flight.
That experience was the kick in the pants I needed. Was it really worth the stress, the waiting at carousels, the dragging of a heavy suitcase up metro stairs and across cobblestone streets? Not to mention the ridiculous amount of stuff I’d packed that never even saw the light of day.
So I started experimenting with traveling lighter. Not immediately with just one bag – I’m not completely mental – but gradually reducing what I considered “essential.” It’s been a proper journey, with plenty of mistakes along the way. Like that time I decided I didn’t need to pack a jumper for Ireland in April because “it’s spring!” (Spoiler alert: Ireland doesn’t care what the calendar says.)
The beauty of one-bag travel isn’t actually about the bag itself. It’s about the freedom that comes with it. No checked baggage fees. No waiting at carousels. No taxi drivers giving you side-eye because your massive suitcase barely fits in the boot. Just grab your bag and go. It’s brilliant for spontaneity too – changing accommodations is a breeze when your entire life isn’t spread across multiple pieces of luggage.
But let’s get practical. How exactly does one manage to pack for a proper trip in a single bag without looking (and smelling) like someone who’s given up on life? There are a few systems that actually work – and no, they don’t all involve wearing the same outfit every day.
The foundation of any good one-bag system is the bag itself. After much trial and error (and one disastrous backpack that gave me what my physiotherapist cheerfully called “temporary scoliosis”), I’ve settled on a 40L travel backpack. It’s large enough to hold what I need but small enough to qualify as a carry-on for most airlines. The sweet spot for most people seems to be between 30-45L, depending on your size and how efficiently you pack.
My current bag opens like a suitcase rather than from the top, which makes packing and finding things infinitely easier. No more digging through everything to find that one t-shirt that’s somehow migrated to the bottom. It’s got a dedicated laptop compartment, several internal pockets, and compression straps to keep everything secure. I’m not going to name the brand because this isn’t a sponsored post, but let’s just say it wasn’t cheap and has been worth every penny.
Now, onto the actual packing system. The game-changer for me has been packing cubes. I resisted them for ages – they seemed like one of those unnecessary travel accessories that clutter up the storage sections of department stores. How wrong I was. These simple fabric cubes bring order to chaos and can actually help you fit more in less space through compression.
I use a simple color-coded system: blue cube for tops, red for bottoms, black for underwear and socks, and a small gray one for miscellaneous bits like my swimsuit or workout gear. This makes unpacking at a destination ridiculously easy – just pop the cubes into drawers and you’re done. It also helps with repacking; there’s none of that “was this shirt clean or dirty?” confusion that used to plague my travels.
For toiletries, I’ve embraced solid products wherever possible. Solid shampoo, conditioner, and soap bars take up less space, weigh less, and don’t trigger those liquid restrictions at security. I keep them in a small tin that allows them to dry between uses. For things that must be liquid, I’ve invested in good quality silicone travel bottles that don’t leak (learned that lesson the hard way after finding my favorite shirt doused in face wash).
The clothes themselves are where most people struggle with one-bag packing. The key isn’t actually minimalism – it’s versatility. Each item needs to work in multiple outfits and situations. I aim for a color palette where everything goes with everything else. Usually that’s neutrals with one or two accent colors, but honestly, wear whatever colors make you happy – just make sure they play nicely together.
My typical clothing pack for a week-long trip includes:
– 3-4 t-shirts/tops
– 1 long-sleeve shirt or light jumper
– 1 packable jacket appropriate for the climate
– 2 pairs of trousers/shorts (depending on destination)
– 1 nicer outfit that can be dressed up or down
– 5-7 pairs of underwear (I’m not quite ready to embrace the “wash as you go” lifestyle for knickers)
– 3-4 pairs of socks
– 2 pairs of shoes maximum (one on feet, one packed)
The trick is choosing fabrics that resist wrinkles, dry quickly if you need to wash them, and don’t hold odors. Merino wool is the holy grail for this (though pricey), but there are plenty of synthetic options that work well too. Cotton, while comfortable, is generally the enemy of one-bag travel – it’s bulky, slow-drying, and wrinkles like mad.
For longer trips, I’ve accepted that I’ll need to do laundry. This isn’t actually as inconvenient as it sounds. A small packet of laundry sheets (which are solid and don’t count as liquids) weighs nothing, and most accommodations have at least a sink. For items that need more thorough cleaning, most places have launderettes or laundry services.
Electronics are another packing challenge. I’ve ruthlessly evaluated what I actually use versus what I think I might use. My phone handles most of my needs, so I only bring my laptop if I’ll be working. A single universal adapter with multiple USB ports has replaced the tangle of chargers I used to carry. And those “just in case” gadgets? They stay home now.
One aspect of one-bag travel that doesn’t get enough attention is the psychological shift it requires. We’re programmed to prepare for every contingency, to make sure we’re never caught without something we might need. Learning to distinguish between true necessities and comfort blanket items takes practice.
I still remember agonizing over whether to bring a small umbrella on a trip to Portugal. The forecast showed a 20% chance of rain on one day. Previously, that would have been enough for me to pack not just an umbrella but probably a raincoat too. Instead, I asked myself: “What’s the worst that could happen?” I’d get wet and then dry off. Or buy a cheap umbrella there if needed. The world wouldn’t end. (For the record, it didn’t rain at all.)
This mindset extends to “what if I need” items too. What if I need a fancy outfit for an unexpected invitation? What if I need a specific medication? What if I need a particular technology adapter? For most of these questions, the answer is simply: if you truly need it, you can buy it there. The money spent will likely be less than the checked bag fees, and certainly worth the freedom of traveling light.
That said, one-bag travel isn’t about punishing yourself or turning travel into some minimalist endurance test. I still bring small comfort items – a favorite tea bag, a tiny bottle of my preferred essential oil, my own eye mask for sleeping. The difference is that I’m choosier about these items, selecting ones that provide maximum comfort for minimal space.
The most liberating thing about traveling with just one bag is how it changes your overall travel experience. Without luggage as a limiting factor, you’re free to make spontaneous decisions. Change hotels because you’ve found a better area? No problem. Take an earlier train because you’ve finished exploring a city? Easy. Accept an invitation for an overnight side trip? Why not!
I’ve gradually transferred this mindset to other areas of my life too. Do I really need multiple options for everything? Could I be happier with fewer, better things that I truly enjoy and use? It’s still a work in progress (my kitchen gadget drawer is laughing at me right now), but there’s something powerfully clarifying about fitting your needs into one bag.
One-bag travel isn’t for everyone or every trip. I still check a bag for certain types of vacations or longer stays. But having the skills and systems to travel light when I want to has been incredibly freeing. Plus, there’s a certain smug satisfaction in breezing past the baggage claim while others cluster anxiously around the carousel. Not that I’d ever admit that out loud, of course.
