Travelling Companions

Let me introduce you to a friend of mine...

This is my trusty travel bag. He (he is definitely male) is a small, black, wheely bag, with rucksack straps and clips designed to attach him to a bike, if I ever felt the need to do so. Which I won't. Ever.

Last year, I spent a week traveling around northern Europe with all of the things I needed (plus quite a few things it turned out I didn't need) in a small backpack and some carrier bags. I'm not very good at travelling light, as much as I try. My head is to full of 'what ifs' and 'just incases'.

The first stop on my travels was Meppel, in the Netherlands, where one of my very best friends lives with her husband (and now very new baby Lara Eliza - happy first week birthday Pineapple!). I love visiting the Netherlands because it's so chilled out, and we can just wander everywhere without having to worry about any pesky hills. There is also an amazing culture of re-use and recycle, and I love hunting down a bargain in one of the many charity shops.

On this particular visit, I wasn't really looking for anything - I didn't have any space in my luggage for more stuff - but I figured I'd have a dig through the bag mountain for a holdall or something more robust than an old tesco bag.

I have always wanted a bag with wheels and rucksack straps. I generally dislike suitcases with wheels - for someone (me) who is essentially a walking disaster, anything with the potential to be a trip hazard is just asking for trouble - but I also have a dodgy back so carrying all my possessions on my shoulders is painful, so I figured a wheely rucksack is a good compromise.

Anyway, back to the Netherlands. Imagine my excitement when I grabbed a handle, pulled, and out popped this perfect specimen of a bag. OK, he's a bit bashed round the edges, his handle is broken so it doesn't go all the way down, and he has the noisiest wheels I have ever heard, but I don't care. He is the perfect size for travelling with, he's covered in hidden pockets, and he fits into the overhead lockers on (most) planes (we'll gloss over the Flybe flight where I had to cram him under the seat in front, came back from the loo as we hit turbulence, tripped over him, and dislocated my knee - he was not my friend that day).

The best thing about him? He cost 3€. THREE EUROS!!

He is currently full of holiday clothes - we're sitting in Glasgow airport departure lounge waiting for part two of our week-long adventure in Spain (part one being a fairly uneventful drive from Edinburgh, which I don't really remember, it was that un-interesting). The plane to Stansted is delayed (by 1.5 hours), so he is currently acting as a foot rest. I love a good multi-purpose travelling companion.