"Fine, you've got a point. It'll probably get a proper beating in Georgia anyway, so let's not go easy on it." Take-off! Crammed inside this bag is everything for 10 days of freeriding in the East. Ski boots, avalanche kit, crampons, an ice axe (yep, even that fitted), a 30-metre rope, a few karabiners, a bottle of slivovitz, clothes of course, and plenty of food. A whole box of energy bars. When I had it all spread out on the floor at home, it looked pretty hopeless. But in the end it all went in. With room to spare.
The weight is respectable, mind. I hope I won't go over 20 kg. But before I lug it from the Jeseníky mountains to Vienna on three buses... with skis over my shoulder too, naturally. You really appreciate that the bag has shoulder straps and can be slung on your back. Quite comfortably, too.
"Guys, I thought we were going freeriding. It's T-shirt weather here. Let's hope it's better up in the mountains. The taxi's waiting!" So, Georgia. As you can see, not even Wizz Air – the cheapest of the cheap – managed to chew through our bags. And without any cling film. Still, I'd rather lock the zips together with a little combination padlock. Since they went to the trouble of adding loops for one.
So once again I pull out the shoulder straps – tucked away in a special pocket during the flight – bag on my back, and we pile into a minivan. Ugh, a 6-hour drive into the mountains. If we even get there. "Hey mate, I was only sighing. We're happy to ride with you all day. Just please stop overtaking on blind bends."
2 tours, 3,400 metres of ascent, one pair of soiled boxers and not a soul in sight the whole time. That's exactly how I imagined it. You look at a mountain, pick a line, find the safest possible way up and... wow! Simply divine. And now it's time to move on. Our next base camp lies in a no man's valley.
Only I hate the endless packing. I'd just got nicely settled in here. Luckily this is a quick job. I just chuck everything in, zip it up and shape it neatly with the four compression straps. Look at that, what a beautiful piece of luggage. Even the cows in Adishi are taking an interest. But careful, girls! Licking is fine, no biting. Though you probably couldn't bite through this bag anyway. If it survived Wizz Air...
We sleep in the attic. And it's glorious here. No running water. It froze. Probably back in November. Our hosts put us up in their living room. On skis we whizz through the lanes right up to the house and our tiny little room. We don't even unpack. There's nowhere to put anything. So everything stays in the bag. Which, luckily, is so easy to rummage through. Better than any old suitcase.
Or rather, I had a dream. And sadly it didn't come true – to ride a horse with my skis. And get a cracking photo of it. Unfortunately, instead of horses everyone here drives a Mitsubishi Delica van. Because where a horse would drop dead of exhaustion, this car is only just shifting into 4x4. Our stuff is thrown in the boot, which isn't exactly roomy for five people with skis. So the rest is spread over the seats. Which we're also sitting on. An unbelievable journey. We ford rivers. We drive over avalanche debris. We claw our way up.
Anyway, at least I imagine how nicely my bag could be loaded onto a horse's back by its three sturdy grab handles and tied down with rope. They're so great for hurling it into vans, yanking it off the airport carousel and dragging it up the stairs to our little attic den. Simply brilliant. I'm not travelling with anything else now.
With this Lowe Alpine bag on my back I travelled to Austria on three buses and a train. With a sleeping mat, sleeping bag, a small daypack, climbing gear and camera kit inside. It spent 5 days with me in a Volkswagen Caddy with a bed conversion on a ski touring trip in the Dolomites. A private wardrobe you can stuff everything into – as long as you can find it again. And I took it on the train to Liberec for a photo shoot. Laptop inside, wallet and headphones to hand in the little side pockets. Also good.
In short, what more can I say. Travel is a joy.
