Compression Cubes and Carry-On Challenge: Packing for Seven Weeks South of the Equator

SUMMARY

Packing for seven weeks across South America and Antarctica is less “throw things in a bag” and more “advanced-level Tetris with consequences.” From humid jungles to icy winds, every item has to justify its existence in a carry‑on that South American airlines will happily weigh and reject if you get cocky. The solution? Compression cubes, ruthless editing, and a willingness to admit sandals are dead weight.

THE PACKING CHALLENGE

How does one pack for a 7‑week adventure spanning Easter Island, Patagonia, and Antarctica? Add in the joy of trying to achieve carry‑on only, under stricter South American domestic airline rules. The answer: methodical planning, compression cubes, and a healthy dose of realism about what you’ll actually wear versus what looks good in theory.

TWO BAGS, STILL CARRY‑ON

Technically, I’m still carry‑on only. One slim backpack masquerading as my “personal item,” and one small wheeled bag sized to appease South American airlines. Together, they’re my entire wardrobe, shoe closet, and survival kit for seven weeks. Think of it as a minimalist magic trick: two bags, three climates, zero checked luggage.

Photo: Seven weeks, three climates, and carry‑on only. Sandals not invited. Not pictured - my underwear (it's in the laundry), but don't worry, I WILL be packing some! Also not pictured are my shoes but they're coming too.

Photo: Compression cubes: the unsung heroes of this entire operation. And look, my shoes! The boots and stuff to the right of the cubes are what I'll wear on the plane.

WHY CARRY-ON ONLY

Because I’m taking a total of 12 flights — yes, 12, including connections — and I’d rather not spend my trip chasing lost luggage or loitering at baggage carousels. Carry‑on only means less waiting, fewer risks, and more time actually exploring. It’s not glamorous, but it’s efficient. And efficiency is the only way to survive a trip this complex.

FOOTWEAR CHOICES

• No sandals — too bulky, too little use, too much regret

• Waterproof hiking boots for Patagonia’s trails and mud

• Waterproof Vessi tennis shoes for everywhere else

• Slip‑on loafers for cruise comfort and midnight whale‑watching dashes onto the deck

CLOTHING AND LAYERS

• Skirt and blouse for blending in while in Buenos Aires (though I may just nix these)

• Lightweight hiking pants that moonlight as warm‑weather wear, another layer for Antarctica, and Patagonia gear

• Merino wool long johns (2 tops, 2 bottoms) — this fabric actually resists bacteria growth so I'll need to wash them out less than other materials

• Wool socks, neck gaiter, wool hat, waterproof gloves, polarized sunglasses

• Waterproof pants — required, and frankly the unsung hero of Antarctic survival

OUTERWEAR STRATEGY

Outerwear is where packing restraint pays off. The cruise operator hands out a waterproof jacket and liner, which will conveniently double as Patagonia gear afterward. A featherweight windbreaker covers the pre‑cruise days. Ship‑issued muck boots save luggage space and dignity during wet landings. Layers do the rest, proving that versatility beats volume every time.

KAYAKING PROGRAM

Signing up for Quark’s kayaking program means trading some zodiac outings for the chance to paddle among icebergs, whales, and penguins. They provide the dry suit, so no packing drama there. The payoff? A water‑level view that’s been described as otherworldly. The risk? Missing a landing or two. But let’s be honest — if FOMO strikes, skipping a kayak session is always an option.

Photo: The minimalist magic trick. Hiking boot for scale

OTHER ESSENTIALS AND EXCLUSIONS

Sunscreen earns its keep everywhere, especially under Antarctica’s reflective glare. Compression cubes keep chaos contained. Magnetic hooks will double as organizers and drying racks — ship walls and ceilings are metal, so they’re basically vertical real estate. A phone lanyard and waterproof pouch for the zodiac rides and kayak adventures. And then there are the deliberate exclusions: sandals (already sentenced), extra jackets (redundant thanks to the cruise), and anything “just in case” that never survives the final cut. Packing light isn’t about deprivation — it’s about not hauling dead weight across continents.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Packing for this trip is less about predicting every scenario and more about trusting layers, loaner gear, and a few carefully chosen staples. The real trick? Knowing what not to pack. Sandals, I’m looking at you.