The Tourist’s Guide to Packing for Intergalactic Rail Travel

The escalator carries us up and out of the S-Bahn station. Behind me, I hear a gasp.
“Sabrina, look.”

My mom has just seen the imposing Marienplatz for the first time.

My backpack tugs on my shoulder. The hotel is close. The old town is quiet. Most importantly, we are in Munich. Welcomed by the city’s Bavarian embrace.

The bags sitting gently on my shoulders aren’t dragging me away from the view. I’m not fixated on the hotel where I can finally set them down. Instead, my backpack lets me relish the cobblestones underfoot rather than curse them under wheels.

Even the most ambitious rail expeditions don’t need more than a carry-on and a personal item. I’m thankful at every quick train transfer, and even more so at every first arrival in a new place, when I remember to pack like a tourist.

I practice packing for months in advance, trying to envision every moment I hope to create. Arriving prepared but not overloaded is a balancing act. One that I’m still perfecting.

It all starts with the tourist look.

Redefining the Tourist Look

Do the words “tourist look” spark images of flip-flops and oversized Hawaiian shirts? Toss that idea into the nearest bin, just not the Pfand one. That’s for bottles, not tired tourist stereotypes.

I’d like to say I have nothing against flip-flops and Hawaiian shirts… except I do.

Flip-flops are impractical, just waiting for a twisted ankle or stubbed toe. Rail travel means walking to and from stations, often on uneven cobblestones. Protect your feet accordingly.

Hawaiian shirts? Not for me. I don’t feel photogenic in them, and none I’ve tried breathe or stay fresh enough to wear more than once or twice.

That said, if you love yours, wear it. A splash of tropics in front of cathedral backdrops might become your favorite memory, Even as a laundry stop slips into the itinerary. 

My only real gripe is that they’re not wool or sun shirts. Once you’ve traveled in wool, odor-resistant, layerable, practically self-cleaning. Then it’s hard to make room in your pack for even the breeziest novelty prints.

Here’s the rub: the tourist look is built from the few outfits that will star in every travel photo.

This look is made of pieces you can wear repeatedly before washing, or rinse in the sink and hang to dry overnight. Clothes that make laundry optional, not urgent.

The tourist look is also about confidence. These are the moments you want to capture, so it’s okay to prioritize being comfortable enough to step in front of the camera alongside being ready for whatever the day brings.

Photo-ready. Functional. Forgiving.

Never pack an outfit that makes you feel self-conscious. You won’t choose it on the photo-worthy day. And when you’re traveling every day is worth capturing in digital memory.

What to Pack for Rail Travel in the Summer and Spring

This is what’s in my pack: the tourist’s essentials that are tested, trusted, and occasionally rained on.

Pack One Reliable Pair of Shoes

Whenever possible, pack the pair of hiking shoes you already trust.

I can’t stress this enough: your shoes matter. The right pair is broken in, tested, and already part of your routine.

Trail runners or approach shoes are a great place to start. One trusty pair of hiking shoes means:

• A lighter pack

• Fewer blisters

• Shoes that never prevent an adventure. 

A trusted pair of broken-in hiking shoes will beat even the best new finds in Europe. Even the most technical, alpine-ready shoes can’t compete with the ones that have already carried you through training walks and trip prep.

You know the ones: the pair that’s been with you on the stair master, through your step-count challenges, and on your favorite trails.

The trusty hiking shoes have been getting ready for rail travel right alongside you.

Even the technically correct shoe may not be your trusty hiking shoe. I found this fantastic teal pair of shoes designed for hiking the Alps in Wengen, and promptly received blisters walking back down from Wengen.

New shoes just do that.  

New shoes are no one’s hiking friend. If your trusty pair is starting to lose its grip, break in the replacements before the trip. Even if they are exactly the same.

Rain Jacket: Assume Rain, Avoid Regret

Yes, you can buy excellent rain jackets in Germany, but if you’re shopping for one, you’re probably already drenched. This is one piece worth investing in before the trip.

Unfortunately, a good rain jacket is an investment. There are many imposters out there. Some even lurking in the adventure gear section, taunting us with lower prices and more flattering cuts. I’ve learned to look for a few key indicators to tell if I’m dealing with the real thing or a fraud.

A good rain jacket will:

• Say waterproof, not “drizzle resistant.”
• Have visible, easy-to-reach ventilation. Side zippers rule supreme over back vents because you can actually reach them.
• Brag about its tech fabric. You might need a quick Google assist to see if it’s using the right lingo or just peacocking with empty words.
• Mention breathability. If it doesn’t, then steer clear. Some waterproof jackets double as personal saunas the minute you start moving or it rains.

Test it. Move in it. Wear it on a warm day with a backpack before you pack it.

Living in Phoenix, I didn’t get many chances to test mine. I brought a long, flattering jacket straight from the adventure gear store. It looked great, and I nearly overheated on a cool, rainy day at Phantasialand. I eventually chose the lesser evil and got drenched instead.

Lesson learned. On my next trip, I went for the real deal. The tag said all the right words, the side zipper commits to its task, and it’s purple. I weathered the Obersteinberg trail in comfort, with a healthy amount of fear on the rainy descent.
Invest in a good jacket, and don’t be swayed by the imposters hanging nearby

Wool is Worth While

On my first trip, I didn’t buy into the wool hype. I ended up overspending on laundry and feeling warmer than I’d like in synthetic shirts and jeans or defaulting to travel dresses.

On my second trip? One wool shirt, plus wool socks and underwear. I wished I’d brought more.

One good wool shirt can replace three or four synthetics. It’s odor-resistant, breathable, temperature regulating, and dries overnight. I found a second wool shirt in Switzerland, with the mountains around me printed right on it.

I handed my card over, winced as I selected “no currency conversion,” and refused to think about Swiss Francs. But that shirt …it’s literally cool. Perfect for hiking on warm fall days in Phoenix, and the first thing I throw in the suitcase for the next rail expedition.
Wool socks? Multiple wears, no smell. The brand Darn Tough takes the sting out of their price with the world’s most ridiculously good warranty.

Wool underwear? I don’t need to say much more than easy to wash and hang dry in your hotel bathroom.

An important note: wool varies. A lot. Comfort varies too. I’ve met the scratchy, itchy stereotypes of wool  and I’ve also found my softest, most comfortable hiking shirt in the same category.

The tag matters. The type of wool listed (and its intended use) makes a huge difference. Some wool will keep me cool and dry in Phoenix’s blistering heat; winter-weight base layers can feel too intense even for snowy hikes. Research before you invest.

Often times less expensive means less durability. I’d rather not be replacing my favorite shirt after just one expedition.

Wool can be pricey, so if you’re new to it, look for a good sale. Bigger brands often mark down “last season’s color,” or drop prices to move inventory as seasons change. It’s well worth digging a little for a good deal from a respected brand.
Not all wool is spun equally.

Your Perfect Travel Pants Exist, I Swear

I packed jeans, wore them once.
The next trip? I packed two pairs of the same hiking pants in the same color and I have no regrets.

Quick-dry, durable, breathable, stretchy. Yes, I know,  those words show up on every packing list. There’s a reason for that. Kind of like Colmar: touristy, because it’s worth touring.

Your perfect pants sit and stay exactly where they need to and can be worn without regret during:

• Wine and cheese in Strasbourg

• Wading into Lake Eibsee

• Running for the train in Kreuze-Strasse

Beware of zip-off pants. I love the idea of them, but mine never make it into my rail-light suitcase. Those zippers can create their own hot spots. My perfect travel pants still allow for wading into glacier lakes they roll and snap into place. It took me more than a few tries to find them.

Any old hiking pants won’t do. When packing light means only bringing one or two pairs, it’s crucial to kiss a few frogs before you find your prince.  The ones as ready for a photo op near Marienplatz as they are for the banks of the Loisach.

Sun Protection

If you ever see a photo of me with no sun protection, it was either an accident or a very, very overcast day and my hat’s probably in the bag.

Sun protection is part of the tourist cliché because tourists get to spend more time in the sun. We’re not just heading to the lake for the day, we’re heading there after roaming cobblestone alleys yesterday and planning a high-altitude trail tomorrow.

Sunburns are cumulative.

Blending in with the locals isn’t worth the burn. That’s why rail packing always includes:

• A dorky-but-effective adventure hat. Overkill? Maybe. Still cuter than blisters on my face.

• A cap for days when the adventure hat is too much (and also great for repping my favorite soccer team).

• A lightweight long-sleeve shirt with sun and maybe bug  protection.

I once left my sun gear sitting on the dresser at home. Early April means hiking season in Phoenix, so I used it right up until the day before the flight. I landed in Munich on a Sunday, and by Monday I was at Globetrotter, perusing replacements.

The Outfit That Makes the Fancy Dinner Possible

Even if you don’t have a fancy dinner planned, you might stumble into one.

When checking into a hotel, the innocent question  “Would you like a reservation at our restaurant?”  paired with the smells wafting in from lunch service can spiral quickly into a luxury experience you didn’t know you needed.

Just one or two pieces can make the difference.
Maybe it’s a wool dress shirt.
Maybe it’s a sweater that make your travel pants dinner-ready.
Maybe it’s a wrinkle-resistant dress that doubles as an adventure outfit.
In cooler weather, maybe it’s a sleek wool moto jacket.

Having the option to dress up, even once, feels good. Don’t deny yourself that.

Throw in a pair of ultralight flats for a little extra boost if your trusty hiking shoes don’t blend well. This outfit sits somewhere between practical and fashionable. My dad somehow gets away with just a nice shirt and his hiking shoes.

It’s okay if you only wear it once  as long as it packs well enough to be ready when you need it.

The Dry Bag: Because Dirty Happens

When laundry doesn’t happen on schedule, or something isn’t as quick-dry as expected, a dry bag keeps your dirty socks from cozying up to your clean-ish wool. A sealable bag also lets you take more risks when checking Bavarian beer home on the flight.

Pack the Other Bags

A collapsible bag is a game-changer.
If you expand your wardrobe, find the right pair of shoes, or need to bring beer home in a checked bag, a foldable day pack can double as your new carry-on.

It also works as a hotel-to-trail day pack when you want to carry your rain jacket, water bottle, and not much else.

My collapsible bag rides in my personal item. It’s small, unobtrusive, and always ready to have my back in a pinch.

Oh, and I almost forgot. 

Bring your towel in your day pack. 

Always bring a towel is just wisdom for intergalactic travelers. 

I’m a Fraudulent Rain Jacket

I’ve unintentionally lured you in with false promises.

If we leave now, we’ll be okay, but we haven’t yet powered the trip, sorted our tickets that well, or packed even the sunscreen lip balm.

So this is really just the start of the Intergalactic Guide to Packing.

This is by no means a complete list. I haven’t talked about my soundproof headphones for surviving the flight, or pajamas, or… well, that will have to wait. This is the kind of list that gets me started.

It’s the apparel I’ll practice packing with, and the base I’ll add practical essentials to as the trip nears.

The tourist look is the outfit I don’t have to worry about. The kind of bag that frees my thoughts for more important things.

Like checking my passport hasn’t grown wings and flown from the secret compartment every bystander has watched me check for the thousandth time.

And where to find cake in Garmisch-Partenkirchen.