Carrying a lighter load makes a trip more enjoyable for many reasons, but how can the average over-packer reduce the burden? The internet abounds with specific packing tips, but these five strategies sum up how I’ve put my own luggage on a successful diet.

1. Use a packing list

To most this may sound like a mundane and time-consuming chore, which may explain why most people don’t bother. However, if you’re serious about reducing weight by travelling with as little as possible, it is perhaps the most important tip of all. Having a list ensures that nothing important is forgotten, but more importantly ensures that nothing unnecessary is packed. Creating a list makes you evaluate each item thoughtfully, avoiding the temptation to just throw things in willy-nilly when packing at the last minute. A list can also be evaluated at the end of a trip - adjustments made, unused items crossed out - to make packing even quicker and more efficient next time.

I’ve been using packing lists for over ten years and have never regretted a single minute spent modifying them (spreadsheets work well). By knowing what I took last time, and what didn’t get used, I’ve progressively reduced the weight of my hiking backpack from 25kg down to 12kg which includes food, fuel and tent (as pictured). For me, that’s the difference between enduring a hike and enjoying it!

2. Leave stuff behind

My biggest weight reductions have been achieved not by reducing the weight of an item, or taking a lighter alternative, but by leaving something out altogether. This is easiest done when you have a packing list, and for each item you ask yourself “can I do without it?” (or, after a trip, “what could I have left behind?”).

For cooking on camping trips, do you really need more than a single pot and spoon? Plates, bowls, knives and forks can all be left at home if you plan meals differently. Do you need to take a heavy guidebook, or can you just borrow one from a library before the trip and make notes? The benefits can compound as leaving out one item can make others unnecessary. For example, by deciding not to take my own supply of coffee, I was also able to leave behind powdered milk, sugar, their containers, and the cup that I no longer needed to drink coffee out of.

3. Substitute lighter alternatives

Many common travel items have lightweight equivalents. If you need to take cutlery, use Lexan plastic utensils instead of stainless steel. Specialist camping shops sell small quick-dry towels that are much lighter and less bulky than what you use at home. Modern LED torches are a fraction of the size and weight of those containing incandescent globes. A giant standard umbrella can be replaced with a small travel umbrella that fits in a back pocket. And if you reduce your overall packing enough, a smaller and lighter bag can be carried. You name it, there is probably somebody selling a lightweight equivalent … for a price (note that omitting something altogether can save money as well as weight).

4. Take reduced quantities

Instead of throwing in full sized containers of travel supplies, give some thought to how much you will actually need and transfer the appropriate amounts to smaller containers. For example, don’t take a full 200ml bottle of shampoo if 40ml of shampoo transferred to a small plastic container will suffice. Find a miniature soap or a half used bar rather than a full sized bar of soap. Take a partially used tube of toothpaste that contains enough for your trip, rather than a full tube. If taking a guidebook, and it’s your own copy, consider removing the pages you will need and leaving the rest at home. A lot of small weight savings can really add up.

5. Use quick-dry easy-care clothing, and keep it to a minimum

Specialist camping and travel shops boast an abundance of modern easy-care clothing which can be rinsed in a hand basin (or under the shower) and dried overnight without creasing. Using such clothing minimises what you need to take, as you don’t need a supply of fresh clothes to sustain you between laundromat visits. In fact you may not need to visit a laundromat at all, which is a big timesaver. Last year I survived an eight-week trip with only two pairs of underpants, three pairs of socks, two sets of thermal underwear (it was winter), two shirts, and one pair of long trousers, plus jumper and jacket which I didn’t wash.

The above are my top five general strategies for travelling light, and have served me well. Much more information, specific tips and useful links can be found at the One Bag (lightweight general travel) and Lightweight Backpacking and Hiking websites. Also I’m sure many readers will have tips of thir own.

I was motivated to write this by a competition at the ProBlogger.net website, where a cash prize was offered to a randomly chosen writer of a blog post on the “top 5″ theme. Judging by the many responses from other writers, the offer of a cash prize is a good remedy for writer’s block! I plan to post my favourite (top 5?) entries here soon.

Part Five in a series of tips for flexible non-conformist independent travellers:

Use minor back roads instead of highways

The idea of taking the road less travelled is nothing new, but the majority of people, when travelling from A to B, still tend to follow main roads. This is often the logical and sensible choice, and sometimes the only choice. If, however, there are alternatives to the main routes and you have the freedom to choose, taking a less used back road can lead to unexpected delights, and the joy of “discovering” places that seem unspoiled compared to places on the well trodden paths.

Other benefits are less traffic, fewer people, and the tendency of minor roads to be more scenic than the busy highways. Downsides may include fewer facilities and a lower standard of road, so planning is more important. Also the journey will probably take longer, but if you’re on holiday and enjoying the drive that shouldn’t matter.

My most memorable example of this occurred when driving from Melbourne to Mansfield in southeast Australia. The obvious route would have been the Maroondah Highway, but on the map I noticed a minor road (between Warburton and Jamieson) which looked more interesting. I chose this less travelled route and enjoyed a lovely winding gravel road through remote mountains and forests, historic abandoned mining sites, and a couple of tiny settlements that appeared to have changed little since the gold rush days. I felt like I had travelled back in time, and dug up treasure! Another delightful find was the back road between southern Canberra and Adaminaby - a bit rough in places and prone to snow, but a much more scenic alternative to the well used highway through Cooma.

All you need is your own transport, a decent map, and the curiosity to go beyond where everybody else goes. Not knowing what you’ll find can make the journey more interesting, and even if the back road turns out to be ordinary, it will still get you to where you were going anyway!

Part Four in a series of tips for flexible non-conformist independent travellers:

Plan to have occasional camera-free days where possible

Cameras are fantastic for capturing memories and documenting a holiday. On a short trip, visiting different places every day, it makes sense to always have a camera handy. On a longer trip, however, it’s likely that not every day will be spent seeing new sights that need to be recorded. Leaving the camera behind on these odd occasions can actually enhance the enjoyment of a holiday.

This is because we see things differently when continually alert for photo opportunities. Even when using cameras in moderation the time spent taking photos - or contemplating the taking of photos - can get in the way of fully experiencing the place or activity being photographed. Just how much cameras can intrude on our enjoyment of the moment is only apparent by going camera-free and feeling the difference.

I first noticed this on a ski holiday over 10 years ago. Carrying both video and still cameras got in the way of skiing, and the time and energy spent using the cameras detracted from the very activity I was there to enjoy, so I made a point of only taking the gear once to each area I visited. Having the images to look back on is great, but so are the memories of the camera-free days, which were the most enjoyable. Since then I’ve made a regular habit of leaving the camera behind occasionally … and it’s strangely liberating. It leaves you free to study the scenery more intensely with the naked eye, soak up the sights, sounds, smells and feelings of a place without being distracted by the process of documenting it, or even the subconscious thoughts of documenting it.

Even if you only get to visit a photogenic spot once, try getting the photography done then put the camera away. Capture the scene through a lens, but also make the time to fully soak it up through your eyes and other senses too … vivid memories are the best souvenirs!

Part Three in a series of tips for flexible non-conformist independent travellers:

Avoid must-do tourist activities (unless you really do want to do them)

In other words, be selective about what tours you go on, which sites you visit, and which activities you pay to enjoy (or endure). Don’t just do something because “everybody else is doing it” or because the guidebooks and brochures urge you to do it.

Remember that tourism is an industry, in which entrepreneurs are trying to sell products (activities and experiences) to customers (you, the traveller). Like other industries, some sellers are motivated by a genuine desire to please their customers, while others are in it just to make money … and will provide whatever activities they think they can persuade people to pay for. Ask yourself - is this activity something I particularly want to do, and will enjoy, or will my time and money be better spent doing something else?

The South Island of New Zealand is a great example of a vast smorgasbord of expensive activities for tourists. Some of them are excellent and deserve to be on everybody’s itinerary, but others have cheaper alternatives. In the eight weeks I spent there last year I only took part in four paid-for tourist activities and had a great holiday without feeling that I’d missed anything. Two of them were the boat trip on Milford Sound and whale watching at Kaikoura - “must-do” activities which I’d happily do again. Also a jet boat ride up any river is a great kiwi experience, but instead of doing it at Queenstown where it seems almost everyone else does it, I chose a better-value and more wilderness-like alternative elsewhere (I blogged about it here).

However, in Christchurch I gave the heavily promoted gondola ride up the port hills a miss, instead visiting the same location - and many others - by hire car. All the brochures urged tourists to visit the Antarctic Centre (for a fee); instead I visited the Antarctic exhibits at the Canterbury Museum (free), and from what I heard it was probably more interesting for adults. I didn’t pay to visit any wildlife parks either - I found a free sanctuary for endangered birds near Te Anau, and saw some native wildlife out in the wild (such as this Weka on Stewart Island, pictured).

Many things that people pay to see on a tour can be explored just as well by anyone with a map and a hire car - with a little homework and maybe some exercise you can save a lot of money, and have time to linger.

Part Two in a series of tips for flexible non-conformist independent travellers:

Look for regions least heavily promoted in tourist literature - then go there

Places which are heavily promoted and well visited are often popular for a good reason - they are worth visiting. But this doesn’t mean that less popular, less advertised places have nothing to offer.

Some areas may lack the accommodation and other facilities to support large numbers of travellers, and are bypassed by tour companies for this reason alone. Or there may not be enough businesses and money-making attractions in the area to fund the sort of advertising that can compete with the big tourist towns. Perhaps the residents want to retain the low-key character of the area … but it doesn’t necessarily mean there is nothing to see. On the contrary, any attractions can be enjoyed with fewer crowds, a more relaxed atmosphere, and the accommodation will probably be cheaper.

I wrote about one of these less promoted areas in another blog post (here) - the Maniototo region of New Zealand. It’s not on the mainstream tourist itineraries, so I went there - and found a beautiful area, made more beautiful (in my mind) by the absence of mass tourism. Another such area is the central plateau of Tasmania around Great Lake. It doesn’t conveniently fit into the traditional tourist loop around Tasmania and has no significant accommodation or tourist sites. My travel guide described it as bleak with poor roads, of interest only to trout fishermen (which I am not). So I went there - and found a landscape that is unique in Australia, with a beauty of its own despite the superficial bleakness. The fishing shacks scattered around parts of the lake created an interesting ambience, reminding me of the dusty village by the lake in the Clint Eastwood western “High Plains Drifter”, except without all the gunfights.

If you’re fortunate enough to be planning a holiday, why not check a map and see which areas are least promoted or not included in the common routes. You never know what unexploited treasures may be hidden there.

Travel is a wonderful privilege and a great adventure, but it’s all too easy to conform to the scripted role of tourist and stick to the popular routes, itineraries and activities. There’s nothing wrong with that: popular sights are usually popular because they’re worth seeing! But travel can be enriched by straying from the well trodden paths. Here in this blog I plan to share some tips that have enhanced my own holidays; the first one here, more to come as I think of them.

Part One in my series of tips for flexible non-conformist independent travellers:

Avoid Centrally Located Accomodation

This may not be suitable when transport is a problem, and will not suit party animals who need to be within staggering distance of pubs and clubs. But for others, staying out of town can have advantages.

In most towns or cities that I’ve been to, accommodation is concentrated near the city centre. Most people want the “convenience” of a central location, most organised tours use central accommodation, and guidebooks focus their efforts on listing these places. The result - centrally located accommodation can be crowded, noisy and is usually more expensive.

By staying somewhere out of town - and it doesn’t have to be far - you can normally avoid the crowds and enjoy a more peaceful location. It may be safer at night too, and costs may be lower. Visiting a city centre may require commuting, but by doing this you’re mingling with the natives (or the traffic!) and seeing more of the place, and more from the perspective of a resident than a visitor.

As an example, when I visited Wellington in New Zealand last year I avoided the city centre accommodation and stayed in a backpacker hostel (Moana Lodge) in the coastal suburb of Plimmerton. It was cheaper, right by the sea, and in a pleasant area with good views along the coast (pictured; nicer than the views of neighbouring buildings from city accommodation) and not a tourist in sight.

Similarly, when in Christchurch I stayed in an uncrowded hostel 20 minutes walk from the city centre, in a quiet area near a park. In crowded and booked-out Queenstown I found cheaper and more pleasant accommodation in a holiday park near Arthurs point; a world away but only a five minute commute by hire car. I’ve found better accommodation out of town at many other places in Australia, NZ, and America. In fact these days, unless its a very small town, I only stay in central locations if I can’t find anywhere suitable further out!

For me, accomodation on a long trip has to be cheap (otherwise I can’t afford a long trip). However, these days I desire greater comfort levels than I used to endure as a young backpacker. These opposing objectives were satisfied very well on my recent New Zealand trip by some great places to stay, which I feel are worth mentioning.

One was the BBH backpacker hostels chain, which boasts over 350 of the best hostels in the country. Many of these (not all) offer single rooms and real beds (not bunks), so you can enjoy the space, privacy and security of having your own room, while still enjoying the budget price, good facilities and sociableness that backpacker hostels are famous for. My favourites were Dorset House in Christchurch, Neptunes in Greymouth, and Moana Lodge in Plimmerton (Wellington).

My other discovery was holiday parks (known also as motor camps, caravan parks, RV parks, campgrounds, etc). New Zealand abounds in them, but the Top 10 Holiday Parks chain generally have the cleanest and best facilities. They cater for caravans and motor homes, but also offer motel units, cabins and tent sites, with communal kitchens and ablution buildings … as their website says, “a bed for every budget”. In my travels I stayed in many cabins, which were similar to having a single room at a hostel. One main difference is the clientele. Whereas backpacker hostels are mostly used by foreign visitors, holiday parks are used more by locals exploring their own country … a good way to mingle with the natives! Two of my favourites were at Pohara (on the beach in Golden Bay), and Arthur’s Point (pictured, peace and quiet just 5 mins drive outside bustling Queenstown).

Thanks to these hostels and cabins I stayed in some awesome locations, mingled with interesting people, and kept my costs within budget - without once having to sleep on a bunk bed or share a room with snoring strangers.

Another New Zealand highlight for me was the Matukituki Valley, situated near Wanaka in the south island. Apart from a gravel road and some grazing sheep, there is no development up this spectacular valley which leads towards the Matterhorn-like Mt Aspiring. Just rugged snow capped mountains, a sparkling crystal clear river, and the serenity that helps one to appreciate that sort of thing.

Many skiers gaze longingly up this valley from parts of the Treble Cone ski area, as I once did. So when I returned to the area recently, I explored beyond the ski area turn-off to discover what I’d admired from afar. It was a delightful drive along a scenic gravel road, well travelled by hikers in summer but deserted in winter when I visited. The road leads to some great hikes, but I enjoyed just chilling out by the river, soaking up the scenery.

A great way to enjoy the valley is a jetboat trip with Wanaka Rivery Journeys. This is a small and personal husband and wife operation which takes small groups up the Matukituki River and back, with a walk or refreshment break at the furthest point. Brent, the host, drives the boat expertly at high speed in impossibly shallow water, and is a wealth of information about the area. Not just tour guide trivia either - he is a maori whose ancestors have lived in the area for centuries, so he conveys real passion for the area as well as his experiences. The three hour trip provides the exhilaration you’d expect from a jet boat ride in New Zealand, but also allows time to take in the tranquillity of a valley well worth visiting.

The goal of my recent New Zealand holiday was to venture off the well-trodden paths and explore places I hadn’t been to before. This led me to the delightful Maniototo region, which has become one of my favourite bits of NZ.

It is part of Central Otago, and although it sits between Dundedin and Queenstown, main transport routes (and tourists) skirt past its edges. Sprawling plains are separated by mountain ranges of varying sizes with interesting rock formations. Small quiet towns with friendly people punctuate lots of wide open spaces, and the uncrowded roads provide changing vistas of grazing sheep, mountains, and the odd stone building left behind by the gold rush. The climate is New Zealand’s driest, with the coldest winters and warmest summers. Many lakes freeze in winter and are used for the sport of curling.

It was winter when I visited - lots of snow and ice - yet the dry landscapes and sparse population reminded me of country Australia. Maybe thats why I felt an attachment! Though not like elsewhere in NZ, the Maniototo region is distinctly kiwi. I visited the ghost town of St Bathans (one of only three visitors that day), wandered in the forests near Naseby, hiked a section of the Otago Central Rail Trail, and enjoyed some lovely drives, including some on mud and snow covered tracks. The area may not have the major tourist drawcards of other regions, but it has a subtle charm and beautiful character that grows on you … it did on me.

Another highlight of my New Zealand trip was the Rakiura Track. This is located on Stewart Island, which I’ve already mentioned as a highlight, but the track is worthy of special mention.

I visited during the winter off-season and had this three day hike almost to myself … for me the solitude enhanced the enjoyment of what is mostly wilderness with little evidence of humans. Scenery included beaches, quiet inlets and bays, a variety of forests, roaring creeks, and hills. The two well-equipped huts provided a level of comfort I’m not used to on hikes (North Arm Hut pictured). Track conditions varied from gravel and boardwalk to mud and tree roots, but the pure charm of the environment overshadowed any obstacles.

The Rakiura Track shows what much of New Zealand was like before people started destroying the forests. I only did one multi-day hike in New Zealand, and was happy to have chosen this gem.

My long service leave holiday to New Zealand has ended, and I’ve been back at work for four weeks now. Having had time to reflect on the trip and sort through the photos, I thought I’d share some of the highlights in this and future updates … places and things that left the greatest impressions on me.

First on the list is Stewart Island. It sits off the south end of the south island, beyond where most tourists go. This 100km long island wilderness is 85% national park, with just a few hundred people scattered around the only settlement. Their website puts it well: “our island offers a special experience – a glimpse into a simpler, slower lifestyle, in rhythm with the sea and the tides, attuned to the natural world of bush and beach.”

Stewart Island is a one hour vomit-inducing (so I’m told) ferry ride from Bluff, or in my case a turbulent twenty minute flight from Invercargill. A short distance, but a world away. A place where nothing feels urgent, where banks and ATMs have yet to appear, where two cars constitute heavy traffic, and where the exquisite forest and most of the wildlife is much as it was before humans came along. I spent five days there soaking up the lush bush and prolific birdlife, and returned to the “mainland” with mental health greatly improved.

Afterwards I felt the dilemma of wanting to tell other travellers of this great treasure, but at the same time wanting it to remain overlooked by the crowds and thus unspoiled … a good indication of a place being special.

Passing through Darfield in New Zealand, I noticed a ski and snowboard shop and a chiropractor occupying the same building, as neighbours (pictured). I wondered about the juxtaposition of these two businesses … coincidence, or a symbiotic business strategy?

It amused me because skiing and snowboarding are not good for the back - my past ski trips were usually followed by chiropractor visits to rectify the damage done by skiing. Maybe the chiropractor set up shop next to the ski shop to take advantage of skiers returning rental gear with sore backs. Perhaps not, but it wouldn’t be any different from pharmacies (drug stores to you Americans) being located in medical centres near a supply of patients who have been prescribed drugs.

It made me wonder what other complementary businesses might become neighbours … McDonalds and Weight Watchers?

People do some odd things, don’t they? Recently I came upon a stretch of fence which has been decorated with hundreds of women’s bras -just hanging from the barbed wire, for no obvious reason. It has become widely known as the Cardrona Bra Fence, and is located on the Cardrona Valley road south of Wanaka in New Zealand, near the snow farm turn-off.

It apparently started when four women each removed their bra and hung it on the fence after leaving the nearby Cardrona Hotel one evening prior to new year’s eve 2000. It was their way of bringing in the new century with a bit of humour, but the sight of bras on a fence inspired many others to follow suit, and the underwear collection underwent a great enlargement. More details are on the snow farm’s website.

Hundreds of bras hanging from a fence. Its not logical or practical and serves no useful function … but is delightfully quirky and hints at the diversity of ways in which humans can be creative and humorous.

I don’t want toilet-related things to become a theme of this blog, but I just had to share these pictures of the inside of a men’s toilet I visited recently.

Its located in Queenstown, New Zealand, in the lobby of the Sofitel hotel complex (I didn’t stay there - finding good toilets is part of the art of being a good traveller). In the gents, six life-sized illuminated pictures of women appear to stare down at each of the urinals with expressions of amazement, or pity. Its a bit disconcerting to be standing there doing one’s business, with the feeling of being watched, or sized-up. But I congratulate this hotel on being innovative enough to make their toilet stand out from the crowd in such a fun and imaginative way.

Anyone familiar with my daily habit of collecting my navel lint may be wondering if this habit continues when I’m travelling, and away from my collection.

On reflection, I don’t suppose anyone has thought about it, but I’ll provide some reassurance anyway. I have a very tiny plastic container, the width of a little finger, which I keep in my toiletries bag. When away from home - even if camping - I routinely store my navel’s lint in this container, then transfer it to the main collection when I get home. This ensures the collection remains complete, which can only enhance its value. So now you know!

I was recently standing outside a public toilet (waiting for a bus, not loitering!) in Cromwell, New Zealand, when I looked up and noticed something unusual in a tree. Numerous strips of toilet paper had been tied around the bare twigs. The obvious question was… why?

Perhaps someone felt sorry for the leafless tree and wanted to provide it with some foliage? Paper comes from trees, so thats not such an unnatural idea. Or perhaps an aristic soul, while waiting for a companion to come out of the toilet, decided to fill in time creating artwork with the raw material at hand. Once begun, others would easily be inspired to add to it. Whatever the reason, its harmless and biodegradable, so … why not?

Ernest Shackleton’s furthest south was latitude 88° 23′. Amundsen and Scott made it all the way to the pole. I can’t compete with that, but I can claim to have drunk coffee in the world’s southernmost Starbucks cafe, and to have visited the most southerly McDonalds in the world.

Both are located in the city of Invercargill, on the south coast of New Zealand’s south island. Apart from Antarctica, only the southern end of South America and some lightly populated islands lie further south than this.

I visited one such island - Stewart Island. Only a 20 minute flight south of Invercargill but a world away, and visited by relatively few overseas tourists (that was part of its attraction to me). It was pristine primeval forest, prolific birdlife, beaches without footprints, and unpopulated hiking tracks. And unless I fulfill my dream of visiting Antarctica, it was also the furthest south I am ever likely to go.

A while back I heard someone speak about the importance of maintaining a child-like sense of wonder at the world around us, as opposed to becoming blase and taking everything for granted, as adults are inclined to do. This can be difficult when immersed in the routines of life, doing and seeing the same things every day.

To contemplate and appreciate the amazing things about our world may require a conscious effort … or a holiday. In my case its the latter - I’m travelling in New Zealand’s south island, where there is much to be impressed by. The awesome scenery is captivating. The pink glow of snowy peaks after sunset gets me thinking “wow!”, as did the power of a sudden hailstorm the other day. While in Lake Tekapo I visited the Mt John observatory at night, and was impressed by some amazing celestial sights. The night sky was the clearest and starriest I think I’ve ever seen (and I’ve seen lots of clear skies in inland Australia) - I could have stared at it for hours.

Wonders aren’t confined to the natural world. At the observatory the next day I learned about the MOA project, in which a sophisticated telescope (pictured) uses gravitational microlensing (which I won’t attempt to explain) to detect planets around distant stars. Its cutting edge stuff, and filled me with a sense of wonder at the technology, the geniuses that can do these things, not to mention the scale of the universe.

We are all surrounded with things, both human and of nature, which are impressive and amazing. Lets be like little children and allow our curiosity to get us lost in wonder at them. Its liberating, adds colour to life, and only needs a change of mindset. A holiday just makes it a bit easier.

I took a photo of this unusual sign on a trip to Tasmania. Even in the context of its surroundings, its meaning was far from obvious. A sign warning of low-flying winged people, or abduction by UFO?  Or is that what Tasmanians look like? What do you think?

The general concensus amongst those I spoke to was that the sign warns of …

(Continued)