We do a lot of research here behind the scenes. We always need to know just how to stretch our dollars, dong, yen, or pesos just as far as we can. Well, in the course of this research, I came across a rather startling deal: one that allows you to hit three continents for under $800. An important note: I am currently in the process of trying this out, so take care before following these guidelines. Also, be aware that signing up for new lines of credit could aversely affect your FICO score. Now, without further ado:

First, our three destinations are as follows: Quito/Bogotá, New York City, and Johannesburg.

I discovered this trick while browsing for international flights to Joberg on CheapoAir.com, which I’ve almost always found to have the best fares of the big aggregators. Turns out, you can snag yourself a one-way ticket from New York City for about $780 (taxes/fees incl.). That’s pretty straightforward– so here’s the trick.

You may have shredded a half-dozen or more credit card offers this week alone, but pay special attention to those that offer you bonus miles to sign up. I received an offer this week for 30,000 AAdvantage Miles (American Airlines) for a no-annual, high-interest card, but there are even better offers out there (like this 50,000-mile offer on Delta). As it turns out, 30,000 miles is almost exactly the rewards cost for a multi-city ticket from just about any major airport to Quito/Bogotá/Central America, and then on to New York City. I was looking for departures from Albuquerque, NM and found the rewards cost to be only 1.7k more than that.

The AAdvantage credit card offer requires you to make $750 of purchases before you earn your miles (Delta is only $250), which, lo and behold, is exactly the cost of your ticket to Joberg. Voila.

Step 1: Sign up for bonus mile credit card offer

Step 2: When you receive your card, head over to CheapoAir and book your ticket to South Africa

Step 3: 8-10 weeks later, use your 30,000 miles to book a multi-city ticket from your home airport to Central America and back to NYC

*REMEMBER: Be aware that there could be a 5-point hit to your credit score because of a hard-draw on your information. I’ve looked into the FICO scoring system, and believe it to be negligible, but you certainly will open this line of credit at your own risk.

Any insights into the deal? Any advice? Share it in the comments!

This entry is the fruit of bitter revenge. This is to say that the little black keys clicking away under my fingers only receive the words of this entry because my ex-wife forbid me to buy them while we were married. Let’s step back.

When I got off the plane in December 2008, I stepped out of the sweltering heat of Ho Chi Minh City into the monochromatic deadness of wintertime Minnesota to face down my demons. I was all set to rendezvous with my ex at a café in the crowded, Christmastime Mall of America for “closure” or God knows exactly what. When you’re an angsty, recent divorcee the word “closure” has some kind of mystical meaning that only a year later do you realize is a puff of fart from a decrepit psyche.

Throughout our 2-year marriage, I’d been fairly desperate to replace my aging, rusting, sputtering, smelly old laptop with something that wouldn’t require as much patience as alternating current, but I was denied time and again by my more fiscally minded spouse. So I did what many divorced men are likely to sympathize with: I bought a fucking MacBook on my way through the Mall.

Well, in the end, I’ve turned out to be the butt of that joke. Clearly, I didn’t have the money for this little jewel of mine (oh, I love you baby), so I slapped down a MasterCard and promptly pretended it never happened, just as I did for my roundtrip ticket to the States, just as I did for 1,300 miles of gas and two hotels. And food. And debt has a way of snowballing your life.

So, in an effort to destroy the beast that is my credit card, I’ve been back working for the last few months. Accumulating things got me into this mess, and now I find myself at home having just purchased some $180 jeans wondering how that consumerist plaque caught up with me.

You have the privilege of perspective when you’re on the road to keep your pecuniary priorities plumb. Sorry, that was way too cute. I often wondered, choking down on crackers and tuna while traveling, how I could have ever spent $15 on a lunch back home or wasted a hundred dollars on some piece of crap I never needed, when every dollar means a day or a week abroad. And now I’m home again accumulating crap.

It’s a disease people. I admire anyone immune to it, because I am sure that the majority of us are full-fledged victims. Myself included.

Don’t take this for an anti-consumer, or worse, an anti-capitalist rant. I love crap, but boy do I hate how it interferes with my priorities.

Being a part of Jet Set Zero is like being in an indie band: no one knows who you are or really understands what you’re doing, and everyone either thinks your ballsy, or incredibly stupid. But you do it for the love of your art– for us, our “sound” is the unique feel of our content and our personalities. You feel our sound the best in Season 1; you hear it best in Season 3. Ultimately, though, a little recognition goes a long way.

So we have a press list, that cost us a lot to acquire *cough*westoleit*cough*, and Outlook has this great feature called Mail Merge. So basically, you write up a press release and send it out to a brilliant friend to review, then hold your breath while it shoots out to over 3000 contacts.

Is this spam? Probably. But when you’re a struggling indie production company, you need to bend the rules every once in awhile.

This process occurred sometime around October, with my tiny MacBook sending out emails on turbo. Well, aside from a smalltown retiree newsletter, we got very little response… that is, except for a small magazine called NATIONAL MOTHERFUCKING GEOGRAPHIC.

So our thanks go out to the editors of NMFG for putting another blip of recognition on the radar screen of our lives. Go out and buy your copy of the March National Geographic Traveler today!

I promised in last week’s post, Top Ten Packing Surprises, that I’d break down my dream gear bag for everyone this week. Well, despite having been widely criticized for my comment about American condoms, I have decided to be upstanding about my promises: my complete travel kit, in a handy, checkbox form.

Brian's bag was full of beer. What about mine?

Not just any beer. IceHouse.

If you see any glaring omissions (that don’t fall under the Obvious category, like a passport), then leave them for me in comments, or email me your own Complete Pack breakdown.

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.