My backpack has become measurably lighter. I went Pol Pot on it (sorry. too soon) after an incident upon arrival in Cambodia where I walked five miles out of my way to the wrong hotel address.
Literally five miles; I mapped it.
In anticipation of more plane-boarding and hotel-finding in Luang Prabang, Halong Bay, and Hanoi, I've conducted a final purge. The down coat and a cute sweater Naomi swapped me already went home with mom. The rest went into the trash. Here is a photo of what remains. Spoiler alert: don't get too attached to that lavender tank top in the left corner.
As an unintended consequence, I've become the sort of person who arrives in a foreign country - specifically Laos, known for its emphasis on modesty and decorum - wearing two dresses layered because one is short and the other is sleeveless, carrying one more dress, a change of underwear, and a wadded-up wet bathing suit. I'm having a damn blast, though.
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