Are you a Minimalist or Maximalist?

You belong to one category and have encountered the other – not infrequently in marriage. When it's time to pack for the trip, we have the Minimalist and the Maximalist. One finds sublime pleasure in reducing grams and quantity while the other wants to be sure not to regret it when that ball gown comes in handy. What's a thousand kronor in baggage fees and a back injury?

We also have the Last-Minute Packer and the Preparer. The first prioritizes "cool" and doesn't even want to know departure time until the evening before; the other feels better with "control" and thinks the first is childishly irresponsible and flirts with disaster unnecessarily.

Since it's impossible to be both, I can only give insight into the Minimalist's and Last-Minute Packer's mindset. Recognize yourself or be horrified.

When I made my first self-guided trip, I made three choices: I would go as far away as possible, I would travel by motorcycle, and I would pack as little as possible. That's how I ended up in Tasmania with newspapers stuffed inside my vest in freezing rain. Because Australia is warm, right, and because the jacket lining weighed too much and had to stay in Växjö.

The backpacker trend was in full swing in the 90s and it had many things right: the most authentic journey should only include the traveler and a pack with the essentials on their back. Just like people have traveled since time immemorial (I don't remember at the moment which author pointed out the bag as one of humanity's most decisive inventions). Even a plan was considered too heavy (mentally) and the form of travel required time to allow for all the wandering and getting stuck (in customs, in places you wanted to call home, or in other travelers' hearts). I chose to backpack on a simple motorcycle to add a layer of freedom (this was before you could book tickets for trains, ferries, and tuk-tuks on your phone).

Shortening the packing list quickly became a sport. To make a short story even shorter, I'll give three examples:

• 3 pairs of underwear (yes, they were washed during the three-month trip)
• 1 pair of shoes (for everything from motorcycle riding to climbing Mount Kosciuszko)
• 1 soap (for body, hair, and as shaving cream)

30 years later I go on completely ordinary trips but old habits die hard. I never check baggage (a backpack and a carry-on bag are enough for indefinite time – you can always wash), and it's me and my 20-liter Patagonia backpack in airports, hiking trails, and boardrooms.

This approach sounds worse than it is. The process can be exquisitely orderly, with all components of the trip laid out in zones on the bed and clothes folded and then rolled Japanese-style. The luggage scale stands ready. But the last-minute packer has often traveled a lot before and the time from unopened wardrobes to packed bag in the hallway can be 15 minutes, and packing is done on departure day (or the evening before for early departures). A tool for succeeding with this is the head-to-toe method. Lay out everything needed and mentally go through what you need from top to bottom (with little pats on the body part in question): sunglasses, t-shirts, sweater, jacket, underwear, swimwear, shorts, long pants, socks, shoes. Together with the classic "passport money ticket" the method gives full control over the essentials. Just add toiletries, a book and electronics (charger, headphones) and the world is yours.

Pro tip: packing the same day makes it easier not to forget the toothbrush at home.