It is the first time being so close to the Equator. I am highly aware of the proximity and how it may affect my skin. I am by nature, not a huge sun tanner. I prefer slathering on copious amounts of sunscreen and playing a beach sport.

I am THAT vacationer that arrives home whiter than I left from all the zinc oxide build-up on my skin. Being so conscious of my ghostly white skin, each morning I take great care applying, reapplying my zinc oxide sunscreen.

It was with great displeasure, two days in when I realized I had successfully burnt a 1 inch patch of skin on my right ring finger.

How does this happen? That one little spot that missed inspection prior to sun-exposure? It has turned into what I can only diagnosis with my lack of credentials as a 3rd degree burn. It’s bubbling, it’s painful and it is taking up most of my finger.

In anycase, it’s a good thing for adventurous-shev-ski who packed Traumeel, Polysporin, Aloe Vera Gel and a whole other slew of lotions and potion’s.

I am a last minute packer. It took me an hour, when I should have been sleeping, to pack my bag.

The adventurous-shev-ski and I have travelled a few places together and we’ve turned out to be compatible travellers. I didn’t think of this the first time I agreed to that cruise we took. The one where I woke up in the middle of the night OUTSIDE our cruise ship suite. What the HELL!! That’s correct, yours truly decided in her sleep to walk past the convenient in-cabin restroom and in bare feet and barely there sleep-wear, traipsed up to the top deck, past the 2am deck hands, to use the public facilities. Only when I tried morphing back through our cabin door and falling backwards, flat on my arse did I wake up to what had been so far an adventure dream.

Since that trip we’ve made it on many more trips, all equally as eventful as the first and I have discovered I am neurotic about packing. I’ve tried escaping my neurosis by leaving it in the Atlantic, Pacific, the Caribbean, Europe and even the cold cold Yukon but it finds a way home. I can count on it always finding me.

I pre-occupy my packing with making sure I am way under the 21 kg weight limit. I worry that I might pack too much, too little and not the right clothes. The end result when I arrive at my destination is a self-fulfilled prophecy of all the wrong clothes and missing any sort of first aid items.

The adventurous-shev-ski gets a kick out of this. She packs triple of everything plus some.

This trip I did my best to pack light and pack smart.

I arrived at the airport with my carry-on size luggage and backpack. I felt confident I’d be within my weight limit. However the worry wouldn’t stop until the ticket agent weighed my bag.

The adventurous-shev-ski arrived pulling her trusty travel bag and carry-on luggage and I couldn’t help myself. All that pent-up neurosis and fear surrounding the 21 kg luggage weight per person and the first thing I blurted out, “My your bag is LARGE!”

She dismissed my comment, knowing my packing skill at best meant I’d likely only have enough clean underwear for each day, let alone clothing.

I knew she’d likely be right but I didn’t want to give in yet.

It didn’t end there. Once we arrived safely in our room we quickly realized two things:

1. By chance, we managed to be in the best possible location on the resort. To our surprise we had a beach front room and from our second floor balcony, had a clear a view of the Pacific ocean, the pools, the snack bar, the bar and the board walk. With a crank of the neck we could see Mojo Mojo, Panamai, the amphitheatre and it’s Nightly entertainment, the Gym, the Towel hut, the water sports. We were within 100 meters of everything one might want or need at a resort.

2. After some show and tell during our settling in, we quickly realized the adventurous-shev-ski has perfected the art of packing. She packed her bag like a luxury sedan carrying only two people. She had just the right amount of everything with room to spare. I, on the other hand, own a Clown Bag. I managed to somehow pack triple and quadruple of weather appropriate clothing, while only tipping the scale at a mere 12 kg. As I was unpacking it seemed there was no end in sight of shirts, shorts, bikini’s, dresses and flips flops. Not only did I out-pack my friend and her normal sized travel bag, my neurosis had followed me to Panama and in my anxiety of meeting a 21 kg weight restriction, overlooked packing lotions and potions and other necessary items to help numb the pain of frying to a crisp.