Last August, standing in my bedroom in front of my closet and my empty suitcase, I had a full-blown crisis. I needed to pack for Iceland (chilly), followed immediately by Portugal beach time (toasty), and then a fancy tour of Lisbon, the Douro Valley, and Porto. Total time away: THREE WEEKS. Number of suitcases I was willing to check: ZERO.

I know what you’re thinking. No way can you fit hiking boots, rain gear, sundresses, beach stuff, AND clothes nice enough for sophisticated Reykjavik and Lisbon restaurants into one carry-on bag. How do you go from glacier tours in Iceland, grape-picking in the Douro Valley, fancy dinners, beach lounging. Different climates. Different vibes.

Well, buckle up, because I did it. Here’s how I pulled it off, plus some genius tricks from fellow travelers who’ve cracked the packing code.

The Marie Kondo of Travel: The Leave Behind Strategy

Here’s the thing about down jackets: they’re essential in Iceland, but in sunny Portugal they become a puffy albatross hanging around your neck (literally).

So I raided my Goodwill pile and found my old North Face jacket. This thing had been with me through some adventures—it was tattered, a little sad-looking, but still warm. Instead of donating it at home, I wore it on the plane and through all my Iceland excursions: Diamond Beach, glacier lagoon, even a kilometer-long zipline over a crevasse (which, by the way, is TERRIFYING and I highly recommend it).

I almost left a note saying “Please find me a good home.”

Then came the beautiful part. Before leaving for the airport, I gave my trusty jacket a heartfelt thank-you—yes, I talked to my jacket, don’t judge me—and left it lying on my unmade hotel bed. I almost left a note saying “Please find me a good home,” but figured the housekeeping staff had probably seen this move before.

Boom. Instant suitcase space. I removed a light wrap from my bag, wore it on the plane to Portugal, and never looked back.

Pro tip: This works even better with shoes. Old sneakers take up SO much room. Leave them behind and you’ll have space for all those souvenirs you know you’re going to buy. Some people I know pack entire Goodwill wardrobes for their outbound trip, leave almost everything behind for hotel staff to use, and come home with a brand new wardrobe. It’s like shopping, but with better karma.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Maybe you’re not ready to break up with that smart pea coat or those corduroy pants. Fair enough. But you also don’t want to lug them around. Solution? Mail them home midway through your trip.

My friend Vanessa—now a trip leader for NextTribe who will be leading a Morocco trip next year—spent Christmas in her native Scotland bundled against the cold and damp, then flew to Morocco for a desert adventure. Before leaving Scotland, she used a service called Get My Parcel and shipped a huge duffel bag on wheels from Aberdeen to Austin for around $135. Her exact words: “So worth it.”

Drop it at your hotel front desk, take it to a post office, or schedule a free pickup. It’s like magic, except with shipping labels.

There’s also Packd, which sends you a pre-labeled, pre-paid mailing bag. When your laundry pile reaches critical mass or you’ve bought way too many things (guilty), throw everything in the Packd bag and seal it. Drop it at your hotel front desk, take it to a post office, or schedule a free pickup. It’s like magic, except with shipping labels.

Or go the other direction: ship stuff AHEAD. NextTribe’s Chief Operating Officer Jeannie Edmunds led our Greece trip, then flew directly to Richmond, Virginia for a family wedding. Her dress and accessories? Already waiting at her hotel, because she’d mailed them before leaving for Greece. Genius.

The Great Hair Revelation

Okay, I’m about to share something you may not want to know about me. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve discovered I can go five or six days between hair washings. Less oil production? Maybe. Lowering of standards? I prefer not to examine that too closely.

But here’s the point: I’m not dragging my electric hair brush halfway around the world for maybe two uses. Instead, I’ve become a connoisseur of international blow-outs. I’ve gone under the dryer in:

• Marrakech
• Lisbon
• Cusco
• San Miguel de Allende
• Dublin
• Edinburgh

In many places, it costs way less than it would in the States. And bonus: I end up looking better than if I’d wrestled with my own hair tools in a cramped hotel bathroom. Plus, tons of extra space in my suitcase. Win-win-win.

Think Outside the Bag (Literally)

The outside of your bag is prime real estate. Don’t waste it.

In the past, I tied shoes to loops on my personal bag like some kind of travel hobo. Now I’ve upgraded to carabiners for all the stuff that won’t fit inside. That rain jacket that folds into a pouch? Clipped to a zipper pull for most of my Iceland-Portugal trip. Special hat clip? Makes transporting hats easy and practical.

Sure, your bag might look like a Christmas tree decorated by someone having a breakdown. But hey, it WORKS.

The Pocket Principle (Or: How to Outsmart the Airlines)

Airlines have rules: one carry-on, one personal bag. I’ve heard gate crews sternly announce that fanny packs count as a bag. One gate attendant actually said, with the intensity of someone defending national security, “Fanny packs COUNT, people.”

But you know what doesn’t count? POCKETS.

That’s right. You can stuff your pockets to your heart’s content and there’s nothing they can say about it. It’s not in the rulebook. The bigger the pockets, the better.

I found a light jacket from Banana Republic with pockets so enormous they’re basically bread baskets. You could fit a small dog in each one. Or—better idea—a SHOE. Each pocket holds a shoe. Think about that.

You can stuff your pockets to your heart’s content and there’s nothing they can say about it.

This is the genius behind those multi-pocketed photographer’s vests with up to 21 pockets. Yes, they look a bit dorky. But if wearing a slightly nerdy vest means I have room in my case for my favorite clunky boots? I’m wearing that vest with pride.

The Bottom Line

Traveling light isn’t about deprivation—it’s about being strategic, creative, and occasionally willing to look like you’re wearing every piece of clothing you own. With these tricks, you too can become that person breezing through the airport with just a carry-on while everyone else wrestles with oversized suitcases.

Trust me, your back, your wallet, and your sanity will thank you.