Travellers Tips - Round the World

You wonder what's in those huge backpacks that Aussies like to lug around London. (Or, for that matter, those hauled round Oz by Brits.) Hardback editions of Gibbons' Decline and Fall? Jars of mum's pickle? Samples of their finest cross-stitch? Or enough clothing to outface any weather the world can throw at them?

You see their dilemma: how do you pack for a safari in Kenya, hiking in the Alps and beach-bumming in Mexico, all in the space of three months and all in just sixty-five litres-worth of garish nylon rucksack? Novices pack everything they own, while well-weathered travellers make out that you need nothing but six feet of cat gut, a squash-racket press and a pair of child's plimsolls. Of course, there's a middle way and it goes something like this: take your favourites and pick up – and later drop – anything specialised on the way.

Any bit of clothing that's got more than one use is a winner. Trainers that are cool enough to go clubbing but tough enough for a day hike. A thermal T-shirt, if it's the high-tech modern sort, just about doubles as a trendy top, and it's a fraction of the size and weight of a second jumper. An anorak that packs away small is worth a dozen coats – though leather jackets are brilliantly indestructible. Socks can always be worn as gloves. Crown the backpacker look with a hat, which keeps you warm in the cold and shades your face in the sun.

However well you pack, you can't always be prepared. When you're tramping in the Southern Alps and it suddenly snows, when the fog descends as you cycle across the Golden Gate, or when a tropical downpour catches you on a Cuban beach, there's not a lot you can do about it. Except grin stoically and think how heroic you'll feel in retrospect. And maybe at the time, too – rough weather forces its way inside your anorak and into your consciousness, telling you that the world isn't predictable, and neither are you.

It forces its way into your memory, too. For me, the weather defines the mood of a trip. I can't always recall a painting in a gallery, a path I took or a person I met, but I can still feel every climate I've ever passed through. The blast of damp heat that met me when I first stepped off the plane at Malaga. The throbbing heat of the Outback. The stiflingly cold snow above Everest Base Camp. The bright chill in the Mexico City air. Denmark's wind, Florence's lazy sunshine, Venice's damp. Most of all, perhaps, the salty air in London that means "home". When you feel a blessing even in a Thames breeze you know that the trip was worth it.

Travel Tips: Backpacking round the world
Turn your route plans on their head. Round-the-World tickets get more flexible every year, so don't think about where you want to go, think about when you're going, and plot the trip around that instead. You could touch down at a different festival in every place you visit, or just avoid the most trying weather. Hauling a backpack around India in the monsoon isn't everyone's cup of tea, and neither is New Zealand's South Island in the middle of winter. Just two mistakes I've made...