I came to Jet Set Zero thinking I knew a thing or two about packing. After all, I’d backpacked the Rockies, the Cascades, and even lived and guided in the Alaska backcountry. I learned the value of a lightpack from a man that saws the handle off his toothbrush and packs a sporknif to shave a few choice ounces.

But as it turns out, I knew nothing about packing. Here are the top ten things that surprised me.

Packing for Saigon, Episode 1

10. Bring Multiple Pairs of Shoes

Ok, self-consciously, this sounds like a no-brainer. Why the hell would you only bring one pair of shoes?

I’ve always been the kind of guy that was intentionally fashion-deaf, and overly practical. Hell, I wore tapered jeans until Junior year of college, when someone told me what tapered jeans were, and how terrible I looked in them. So I packed only a handful of survival equipment for Vietnam, and spent almost an hour mocking Brian for the five pairs of shoes he was bringing (including two or three minutes on-camera).

Then, on a fateful night in Saigon, an alleged drug-addict stole my size-16 shoes by flinging them over an iron gate with a broken broom handle. The next morning, I found myself entirely shoeless and filled with volcanic rage. As size 16 is a bit of a rare find anywhere, let alone in dwarfish Southeast Asia, I had to spend the next two weeks in bright blue Crocs, the toes of which I had cut off to accommodate my feet.

Needless to say, Brian had the last laugh.

9. Bring Fashionable Clothes, But Not Too Many of Them

Here’s another area where I doubted Brian’s packing practicality. As it turns out, America (for the most part) is the least fashion-conscious stretch of dirt on God’s otherwise green earth. So if you are as I was, unfashionable by American standards, find someone who can help you buy decent looking clothes (and shoes). If you don’t, it will take about twelve seconds on the streets of Tokyo before you start to feel like Forrest Gump, inside and out.

Looking shabby outside Tokyo Tower.

This all being said, don’t go nuts. You really only need one pair of good jeans, three or four t-shirts, and anything else the climate may demand. And unless you’re an ogre like I am, you’ll do most of your shopping in situ.

8. Don’t Bring White Socks

If you’re sensing a fashion theme here, that’s because some of the first lessons I learned about packing were that I dressed like an American gym teacher, and only an American gym teacher should wear white socks. Take it as a rule.

7. Earplugs, Eyemask

You may think you can sleep anywhere, but try getting a full night’s sleep in the chapel of a busy airport. You may think you don’t need a full night’s sleep to function, but try getting the best deal on a taxi fare when you’re exhausted. Sleep = acuity = money.

6. Antibiotics

I’m almost certain to get dinged here, but I will be honest. I’ve worked with children abroad, and you will get sick every week or every other week, guaranteed. Best to fake or play up some sort of respiratory infection so you can have handy a supply of broad-spectrum antibiotics. We had a stash of hundreds of doxycycline (an anti-malarial), which I took at the first signs of illness. Note: I am not giving you medical advice, and yes, I’ve heard of antibiotic resistance. Unfortunately, I have also heard of Korean toddlers.

The most dangerous thing in this picture is his hygiene.

5. Deodorant

Lots of cultures eschew deodorant, but you probably shouldn’t. As an interesting side-note, Korean people think our body odor smells like butter, whereas we think they smell like garlic. I hope this ruins fetuccini alfredo for you forever.

4. American Condoms

I know– crude, but true. First, you may find condoms in other parts of the world don’t… fit so well. Second, I feel that if I’m skeptical about how well protected my head is by a Vietnamese helmet, condoms are a natural parallel.

3. Pack Yourself a Cold-Weather Kit to Ship

The whole point of living the jet set life is to liberate your future from the clutches of materialism, so why let your materials determine where you can go?

You should pack light, but keep in mind that someday you may want to go to Tokyo in December (against the advice of those that love you the most). Pack a small box with a couple of sweaters, a hat and a solid coat and leave it with someone who can ship it to you, wherever you may end up. It’ll free your options, and save you the money it would cost to outfit yourself on the road. In Tokyo, we’re talking a lot of money.

2. Bring the Things You’ll Want Right Away

God help the world if I don’t have coffee in the morning. When I arrived in Istanbul, I had 50 euros to my name, and no housing or job prospects at all. I knew that a jar of instant coffee could potentially cost me almost a quarter of that money (a chunk I would happily spend, I might add), so I brought a week of instant coffee in a bag with me. Laundry detergent and soap also fall in this category.

If you find yourself packing Franzia after this, you may have a problem.

1. Bring the Smallest Backpack You Can

The absolute, number-one tip I could relate to anyone looking to travel for an extended time abroad is to bring the smallest backpack possible. There are so many reasons for this that I could not possibly cover them all and keep your attention. I’ll simply say that you will always use the space you have, but not always the things you have.

For example, I left for Saigon with my ex’s 40-liter Granite Gear pack and only ever needed to buy clothing once (ok, twice if you count the shoes). But when it came time to leave again for Tokyo, I brought a half-full 95-liter Arc’Teryx. Look at the difference in our departure: in Saigon I left with a smile on my face; in Tokyo I look like Rush Limbaugh on a treadmill.

I would recommend 45 liters as the ideal travel size. If you need more space than that, you’re overpacking.

Come back next week, when I’ll give you a comprehensive run-down and checklist of my ideal travel pack– two years and six countries in the making.