What I Packed for a Trip to the End of the World (Otherwise Known as Ushuaia)

...including how I accidentally packed my expired passport.

I haven’t historically been a light packer, so I want to give this moment its due, because I packed for my three-month research trip in one small suitcase and a backpack. (Feel free to be impressed.) This is also the story of how I accidentally packed an expired passport—while my current passport was in one of seventy cardboard boxes in storage in a friend’s office basement. And if you want packing recommendations for Ushuaia (which markets itself as “The End of the World”), I have that too.

Let me start with some context. My first international trip was when I was four months old, when my parents brought me to the US for the first time. I’ve had a passport basically my entire life, and around our high school lunch table, my friends and I compared notes on international airports the way other teenagers might have discussed the pros and cons of nearby malls. My family moved eight times before I left for college—and most of those were international moves, requiring us to pare down our belongings to what would fit in two duffel bags and a carry-on each. I’m an experienced packer.

I’ve never been so organized, though, as when I put everything I owned into storage to travel around Chile and Argentina for three months. I numbered every box and kept a list on my phone of the principle contents of each box, because I knew that otherwise I wouldn’t be able to find anything when I returned after three months. (A friend recently brought up how organized I was during that move, and I assured her it was the circumstances. I’m usually organized when I move, but not that organized. I wouldn’t recommend it as a standard to which someone should aspire.)

In this case, though, it was a good thing I was so organized. The night before I left for my three-month trip, I double-checked everything in my luggage: writing notebook, check; hiking shoes, check; wool socks, check; running shoes and workout clothes, check; raincoat, check; toiletries, check; thank-you gifts for people who were hosting me, check; photocopies of my current passport, driver’s license, and credit card in case any of those were lost or stolen during my trip, check.

Proof I wasn’t organized all the time. Here is everything “laid out”/exploded around a friend’s guestroom where I stayed for a few days after moving out of my apartment. I definitely DIDN’T need to pack that wool sweater that was on top of my suitcase—it took up way too much space and I got too hot while wearing it. Oh, well: live and learn.

My passport was peeking out of the pocket in my backpack where it had been safely tucked away for the last week amidst the chaos of moving out of my apartment. I pulled it out, just for fun…and discovered it was my expired passport. With a hole punched through it.

I had pulled the wrong one from my folder of important papers. My current passport was in one of those many boxes in storage. I wouldn’t even be able to get past the airport check-in counter unless I found my current passport quickly.

I hurried over to the storage area. Because of my numbered list, I knew exactly which of the identical white boxes held my folder of important papers. I went right to it, pulled it off the shelf, ripped open the packing tape…and couldn’t find the folder. There were lots of different folders in there, but not the yellow one that had all my important papers. Including my passport. Which I needed.

I pulled out another box that was labelled as containing folders. Just old writing—no Folder of Important Papers. I checked the original box again, shaking as I pawed through the different folders, looking for the yellow one. No luck.