Mobility has a way of exposing weak choices.
Items that feel clever, lightweight, or exciting at first often fail quietly over time. They break, require replacement, or demand attention when attention is already limited. What remains, after repeated moves, is a much smaller set of things chosen for reliability rather than novelty.
This article is about that smaller set.
Not what is ideal on paper, but what earns its place through continued use.
The principle: familiarity beats optimisation
I no longer aim to carry the “best” version of anything.
Instead, I prioritise familiarity. Tools and objects whose behaviour I understand, whose limits are known, and whose quirks no longer require thought. This reduces friction across places and environments.
When something works consistently, upgrading it rarely improves daily life in proportion to the effort involved.
A bag that prioritises access over cleverness
Bags are often designed to impress rather than endure.
The ones that last tend to be:
- Structurally simple
- Easy to open and close repeatedly
- Comfortable when partially loaded, not just full
Complex internal systems, hidden compartments, and rigid shapes age poorly. What matters is how the bag behaves during ordinary movement: airports, streets, stairs, and public transport.
A good bag disappears when worn.
(This is a natural place for a future affiliate link to a bag you genuinely use.)
Clothing that forms a system, not a wardrobe
I do not travel with many clothes, but what I carry works as a system that supports daily life in places that need to be livable, not impressive.
Each item:
- Can be worn multiple days
- Works across contexts
- Layers easily
This reduces decision-making and replacement cycles. Items that require special care, ironing, or precise pairing tend to be left behind eventually.
Neutral colours and consistent fits outperform variety over time.
Footwear that supports walking, not statements
Shoes are one of the fastest ways to misjudge a setup.
I prioritise:
- Comfort over appearance
- Durability over lightness
- Versatility over specialisation
Shoes that only work in narrow contexts quickly become dead weight. The pairs that last are those that support long walks, uneven surfaces, and repeated use without complaint.
This is one area where replacing something “almost right” with something genuinely reliable pays off.
A work kit that survives imperfect conditions
My work tools are chosen less for performance peaks than for predictable behaviour.
This includes:
- Input devices I am already used to
- Chargers and adapters that work across regions
- Cables that tolerate abuse rather than minimise weight
Anything that requires careful handling eventually becomes a liability. Over time, robustness matters more than elegance.
This is closely related to how I approach my remote work setup when reliability matters more than aesthetics.
→ Link this phrase to Article 5.
Small objects that reduce friction disproportionately
Some of the most valuable items are small and unremarkable:
- A power adapter that never overheats
- A compact extension cable
- A notebook that tolerates being thrown into a bag
These are not exciting purchases, but they prevent minor annoyances from accumulating into fatigue.
What matters is not the object itself, but the problem it quietly removes.
What I stopped carrying
Just as important as what remains is what was removed.
Over time, I stopped carrying:
- Single-purpose gadgets
- Backup items “just in case”
- Things that duplicated functions I already had
Every item added increases complexity. Every item removed simplifies movement. This balance becomes clearer with experience.
Why fewer things travel better
A smaller, reliable setup compounds benefits over time.
Packing becomes faster. Settling in becomes easier. Replacing something becomes less stressful because there are fewer dependencies. This reinforces the broader principle that living well is not the same as living large.
Mobility remains sustainable not because everything is optimised, but because little needs constant attention.
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