Carry-On Only

 Wendall -- every other Thursday 

 

 The FBI Special Agent gave an initial look. “Where is all your luggage?”
“I only do carry-on. Like any sensible person.”
“I can verify that,” Roger said.

 

My full complement of luggage for my last two week visit to Australia.

 

I’ve been getting ready for an upcoming work trip to Australia and frantically putting things in and taking things out of my carry-on luggage to meet the Qantas weight requirements, in the Cyd Redondo, Redondo Travel, tradition. 

 

After winding up with hundreds of thousands of dollars in endangered species in her checked luggage on her first trip abroad, she is now carry-on only. Me, too. 

 

Barry the chameleon was one of the items added to Cyd's checked baggage in Lost Luggage.

 

The difference between us is primarily that she doesn't have to carry a laptop and her "personal item" is a vintage Balenciaga, not a Rick Steves's day pack. 

 

Cyd's beloved Balenciaga.

 

Here are just a few bits and pieces from the four novels about Cyd’s carry-on policies and what winds up in her luggage and her Balenciaga bag:

 

 

 From Lost Luggage:

“Of course I had done a “practice pack” for an Africa trip. I grabbed my “absolutely necessary” list and did a quick check of my bags. I could put the “absolutely absolutely necessary emergency” things in the carry-on once we were out of the house. I’d found the lightest indestructible luggage set I could afford at Luggage World. I double-checked my passport. I touched all my obsolete globes for luck, pushed my luggage onto the fire escape, did a fake flush of the toilet, and headed down the stairs.”

From Drowned Under:

“I opened the closet door and yanked my “hot weather” carry-on bag onto the bed. I removed the navy polka-dot bikini (Donna Karan at Loehmann’s), as the bullet scar in my waist was still puffy and I didn’t have the heart or time to try it on. Who in their right mind would do that to themselves in December, especially if they’d been ingesting stress Oreos?

I checked for my emergency black sequin, boatneck, backless mini dress, for anything formal, then pulled out my luggage scale. Qantas had a serious weight limit—only two carry-ons in Premium Economy, neither weighing more than fifteen pounds. I’d gone heavy on the chiffon. Chiffon had to be dry-cleaned, but it weighed nothing and masked a host of ills, especially around the upper arms, where I was suffering from worry wings at the moment.

My tiny cosmetic bottles were always filled. I squished them, my makeup kit, my BlackBerry, and my Balenciaga into the smaller carry-on, then weighed the bags. One was still eight ounces over, but I could carry the extra half pound on my person at vital weighing points.”

 

From Fogged Off:

“I got back to 77th Street and dragged out my trusty twenty-inch carry-on. I would need casual and business/grief wear. I folded my sequined little black dress, a black pencil skirt, my navy Donna Karan peplum jacket, chiffon, silk, and cashmere tops and scarves, five sets of La Perla lingerie— just to be optimistic—one pair each of kitten heels, stilettos, and black knee-high boots, all patent leather in case it rained the whole time. Tights went into my set of flat nesting Tupperware, so they wouldn’t snag. There wasn’t a weight limit for carry-on on British Airways, but I still didn’t want a dislocated shoulder, so I’d wear the boots and my black Bendel’s winter coat on the plane.”

“As I walked up the stairs, I still felt something was off with my bag. It might look random to anyone who opened it, but it was a highly calibrated, technical environment, ruled by various Tupperware containers. I had a few extra things when I traveled, but the basic checklist included moisturized tissues, a penlight, a glow stick, a mini-lint roller, a mini-bottle of neutral nail color, plastic tweezers and nail clippers, a roll of quarters, which doubled as a sap, a small bottle of Jack Daniel’s, which doubled as hand sanitizer, plastic zip tie handcuffs—courtesy of the 68th Precinct—my regular wallet, my emergency emergency wallet, Band-Aids, travel deodorant, a black silk scarf, nesting Atlantic City shot glasses, a small blowtorch, Neosporin, Advil, Tylenol, dental floss, mini-toothpaste, mini- Listerine, push-up pads for my bra, Responsible Raisin lipstick, a pocket translator, various stationery supplies, a set of lock picks, my passport and my dad’s compass as well as two new additions in honor of my trip: a paperback Dickens novel and fold-up ballet flats, for stealth.

Since my last two trips, I had spent time in my attic room, practicing walking in flats. It was torture. No woman who was five-foot-two should have to do it.

So, when I felt a bit of extra weight, approximately five ounces, that hadn’t been there when I went to Shep’s service, I was concerned.”

 

From Cheap Trills:

“For the twenty years when I’d barely left the neighborhood, my emergency travel bag had been ready for all time zones and climates. Ironically, now that I’d actually been somewhere, my trusty prepacked carry- on was missing vital items.  

I pulled out my laminated “tropical locations” list and added three-ounce containers of industrial-strength antiperspirant, Avon bug spray, anti-frizz hair serum, 55 SPF sunscreen, and waterproof mascara to my quart-sized “liquids” zip lock. They just fit.

I checked that I had water purifying tablets, cornstarch, a crushable sun hat, two pairs of high-heeled sandals and a few scrunchies. My Balenciaga was up to date.

As I’d be going through airports in two Muslim countries, a miniskirt--my preferred travel uniform—wouldn’t work. I crept down to my mother’s room. I remembered she had a flowy red knit maxi skirt that would be modest, but not dull. I added a black silk boatneck shirt with my beloved Hermès scarf, and a pair of nude Charles David patent-leather heels.

I triple-checked everything, zipped up my carry-on, weighed it on the bathroom scale by subtracting what I hoped was still my current weight, and carried it all to the landing.”

Wishes for safe, easy, joyful, and fascinating travels this summer for all of you from Cyd Redondo and me.

~Wendall