Vix Does India - How I Pack My Travel Bag

That's it. I'm almost ready for India and I've managed to condense a month of my life into 11 kg.

Here's how:

1. I got the suitcases down from the top of the wardrobe. (Everything summery got washed and put away when winter started)
2. Tipped the contents out.
3. Put back any clothes that couldn't cope with a bit of vigorous hand washing, anything too long to wear with flip flops or stuff that required fussy accessories to look good. 

With a bare face and with my hair scraped up I drag the full length mirror into a well-lit spot and try what's left on. If it makes me feel fabulous when I'm at my worst then it's a contender.

When I've done away with the not-so-flattering, what remains gets laid out on the bed and my selection is whittled down to the bare minimum, clothes that can take me to beaches, ride on trains, visit markets, temples, Maharajas' palaces and holy places, dance till dawn or watch the sunset.

Here's the final cut:

Clockwise from top left: 1970s patchwork maxi (Ebay) , denim waistcoat (had for years), cotton sarongs (bought in India), crochet scarf (Yvonne's giveaway), Lamani gypsy top & Rajasthani leather bag (both car boot sales), 1970s pink and orange maxi dress (bought on our blogger day out to Nottingham), Free Spirit vest (flea market, India), leather chappals (bought in India), 1970s maxi (from Op Shop Mama), 1980s cotton bralet (charity shop), Ganesh tote (Yvonne's giveaway), reworked cotton tee (Grassroots giveaway courtesy of Style Eyes), Free Tibet cami (charity shop), Dollyrockers maxi skirt (eBay), Rupee print headscarf (bought in India), Vintage sunglasses (second hand), paisley maxi skirt (charity stall)

• I've stuck to a mostly pink and brown colour scheme (which doesn't tend to show the bauxite dust, which stains most fabric a pinky orange).
• Three maxi skirts with an assortment of tops that work with all of them. If a top doesn't work with all three - it's out.
• A couple of dresses - I get more wear from separates but they're good for lazy dressing, walking back from the beach, popping to the market for a bottle of water & a bag of fruit.
• A top with shoulder coverage for visiting religious sites, train travel and venturing away from the beaten track. Of course, being a foreigner, one attracts attention but let it be for the right reason, not for causing offence by exposing flesh the locals choose to cover.
• My beloved denim waistcoat. I've disguised the bald patches by sewing on a Mexican cross stitch bought from a jumble sale. 
• Heaps of sarongs, used for everything from constructing makeshift beach shelters, as towels, bed covers and shawls. 
• A single pair of leather chappals bought last time I was in India (for around £3.50). If they start to show wear I'll get them fixed by a roadside cobbler.
• A large bag which doubles up as hand luggage and a smaller, cross-body one. 
• A cotton headscarf. Hats don't stay put on the breezy sea shore and rarely stay looking good after being crammed at the bottom of your luggage for 10 hours. 
• 2 pairs of sunglasses, just in case one gets mislaid, broken or scratched.

You might have noticed that everything I take is vintage/second hand. Well, there is an exception to the rule, a brand spanking new ruffled bikini courtesy of British label, heidi klein. My old faithful bit the dust on my last trip and although I've bought a couple of cheap replacements from eBay I was dubious about well they'd survive a month of near-constant wear. (I learnt my lesson with a Primark maxi dress bought in a charity shop, consigned to the rag bag after a couple of outings).
I'll let you know how the battle between high end vs cheap as chips worked out!

                                     Hopefully this will be my life in two weeks time.

With a minimal wardrobe a girl needs a good selection of jewellery to ring the changes.

• If I spot these hanging fold-away bags at jumble sales or car boots I grab them, they're ideal for keeping everything tidy even in the smallest beach hut. 
• Every year I turn up at the airport wearing my bangles, anklets & rings and have to hastily yank everything off in Departures. This year I WILL remember to only put them on after I've gone through the gate. It's enough hassle to have to explain away my metal hip when all the alarms go off .

• The toiletries are packed inside another hanging (and plastic-lined) bag.
• Most products can be bought in India for a fraction of the UK price so there's no panic if anything gets forgotten. 
• Odomos - the leading Indian brand of mosquito repellent is available almost everywhere, from kiosks on street corners to big stores. Its less than a quid and so gentle that even new born babies can wear it. I keep a small tube in my hand luggage and apply it on the plane if I'm landing at dusk or dawn (prime biting times).
• In the past I've been known to just pack sun cream and buy everything else when we get there, but more usually I'll take what's already in use on our bathroom shelves and replace it locally when it runs out.
• I buy once-a-day sun care as I don't need to pack as much of it (so there's less to lug about).
• I take my own hair dye so I can touch up my sun-lightened roots when I'm there. L'Oreal is widely available but I stick to cruelty-free products.
• My travel essential is a Lush Karma shampoo bar, which in addition to keeping my hair tangle free and clean also serves as a body wash, is great for shaving your legs and washing clothes and, if you leave the lid off the tin, it makes even the grottiest room smell gorgeous.
• We always pack a bath plug. It's quite rare to find one in the guesthouses we stay in and Jon says it's an essential for shaving.

• I never bother with my fingernails when I'm away, but feet without nail paint? That's a step too far! I'll stick to the same colour for a month.
• These Eylure semi-permanent lashes are a bit of a fiddle to apply but once on they'll last the best part of a month with enough spare for emergency repairs.
• Bathrooms are invariably poorly lit so a handy handbag mirror is a useful extra.
• I'm bare-faced during the day with a slick of black kajal and occasionally some lip gloss at night. 
• The blusher is to keep me looking human on the flight, it's left in the bag after I get a tan.

Hair kit

• When I first went to Goa I had blonde hair and a fringe and the heat & humidity, daily swimming and sun bleaching made it awful. I look back at old photos and cringe.
• Nowadays I just pile it all up on top of my head, pin it with a hair stick or a fake flower and it's good to go.
• I leave my hair to dry naturally, the rooms we stay in aren't equipped with anything as fancy as a hairdryer and its rare that it isn't warm enough for my hair to dry naturally.
• Black hair grips and bands are plentiful and cheap so I stock up when I'm there.

• I always take my 1950s travel hangers, a journal, a pen and the latest edition of the Rough Guide.
• We also pack a mosquito net, duct tape (for attaching it to the walls), rope (for fashioning makeshift beach shelters or using as a washing line), a torch, a couple of Melamine cups, a bottle opener, the first aid kit, a double sized silk sleeping bag (bought in Kerala years ago and extra protection against bed bugs), MP3 player with mini speakers, a cheap, unlocked phone and camera, rechargeable batteries and chargers.
• We take a holdall each and divide our clothes between the two that way, if a bag was to go missing we'd both have enough to wear.

Jon bought me an E-Reader for my birthday and loaded it with 600 books. That means that I won't have to take my usual supply of 25 paperbacks which has made an enormous difference to the weight of my bag.

1970s metallic Indian blouse, made for a New York boutique (courtesy of Jo), West German mushroom print maxi (My friend Ella's vintage stall), Turquoise suede boots (Queen Helga), 1960s Nordiska belt (the 20p man, car boot sale), battered Delsey bag on wheels (TK Maxx in the 1990s)

Phew, if you're still reading you deserve a medal!
See you soon.