Confession: in the past I was an overpacker. Took a king mattress camping (and a Saks Fifth Avenue dressing gown.) That should give you the full picture of how tough it was to whittle down choices when it came to clothes, toiletries and extra essentials for holidays.

But a switch flipped in the last couple of years—maybe it was taking up hiking and really understanding the need for streamlined packing—so when it came to hitting four European countries in 22 days, I wanted ease and no extra physical or emotional baggage.

The challenge was set. Was it possible to travel for that long in one of the world’s most stylish and expensive countries with only carry on? More, could I also do it with a strict small budget? I wanted to give it a crack.

Here’s how it played out. What I packed, where I saved and the little tricks that helped make four countries in three weeks feel more like a dream than a logistical disaster. 

This is the stuff I’d tell a friend over coffee—what worked, what I’d change, and how to feel vaguely European without spending a fortune or wrecking your knees.

Let’s start with luggage. 

Carry-on only is absolutely the way to go, especially if you’re moving around a lot. We stayed in 11 different places, which meant stairs, cobblestones, tight corridors and ferries with five-minute stops to get off before the ramp lifts again. There’s no time to be wrestling with a 23kg suitcase and a dodgy wheel.

Our system was simple: Mark took the July carry-ons, I had the daypacks. He’d been strength training in the lead-up to the trip (highly recommended) and I packed using cells— separate zip bags for tops, bottoms, swimwear, smalls, and toiletries.

I wore runners on the plane and packed one pair of sandals. That was it. I still didn’t wear everything I packed.

Would I change anything? Yes. I’d bring more easy, wash-and-wear dresses. The two I packed were too structured and needed ironing—one so badly I didn’t even wear it. Not ideal when you’re living out of a small suitcase and hanging your clothes in tiled bathrooms with no ventilation.

And then there were the platform sandals. I bought them the week before we left, thinking I needed something a bit dressier. But they took up too much room in my case, weren’t comfortable and everyone in Europe was wearing flats anyway.

I ended up in my runners the whole time and never once wished for height. If anything, I wished I’d packed smaller sandals that fit properly and didn’t leave me cranky after five minutes. You could spot every other Australian a mile away—we were the ones in practical footwear, black linen and matching July luggage.

Now, let’s talk budget. 

Europe can be expensive—Croatia especially. A piece of grilled fish set me back $50 AUD. I ended up eating vegetarian for most of the trip and honestly, the salads were a highlight: Sopska in Montenegro, Greek and Dakas salads in Greece. In Croatia we’d sometimes just buy groceries and cook at home. It wasn’t glamorous, but it kept things affordable.

We paid for our flights with frequent flyer points, only covering exit row upgrades and taxes. 

Accommodation was booked early through Booking.com during their Black Friday sales—I saved up to 38 percent on some stays. We set a budget of no more than $200 AUD per night, and in many places, we paid well under that. 

Albania was incredible value—we often paid half that for clean, modern, well-located places. But it was Greece that really won me over. The lifestyle, the hospitality, the pace. I’m already planning to go back. We found fantastic accommodation in Milos for $100 a night—spacious, stylish and right where we wanted to be.

I love eating out, but I’m not one for paying premium prices for average food. Most days we ate two meals: a big late breakfast or early lunch, then a main meal around 4pm. That way, we avoided the evening crowds and didn’t need to queue. 

Mark’s vegetarian, so we ate a lot of local vegetable dishes and stretched the budget by avoiding meat. In Albania, everything was more affordable, and the quality was high. A real highlight.

One total find? Free walking tours. We did them in Split, Dubrovnik and Tirana and every one of them was fantastic. Our guide in Split, Gaby, was a high school history teacher who ran tours for extra money during summer. She was passionate, funny and gave us her favourite gelato and lunch spots without a hint of commission-hunting. I loved that. It felt authentic, and you could tell she really loved her city.

I did notice some funny differences this time around. More athleisure wear, more sensible sandals and a definite lift in dinner dress standards. Even in smaller towns, people made an effort in the evenings. I should’ve packed an extra dress or two. Still, I never felt out of place—just slightly underdressed for the sunset aperitif crowd.

One last travel win: hot chocolate. I don’t drink coffee and tea is expensive and often bad in Europe, but hot chocolate? Thick, rich and universally excellent. Mark fell in love with Greek and Albanian espresso, but I was very happy with my upgrade.

Final word on packing: overpack your kindness, not your suitcase. We met such generous, warm people—hosts who did our laundry as a surprise, cousins who drove us to ferries at 7am and refused money. Reviews matter more than ever, so when someone goes out of their way for you, write the review. Let others know.

Would I do it all again? In a heartbeat. But next time I’d swap the sandals, bring a better dress, and maybe leave room for one tiny souvenir.

Let me know if you’d like a list of our top 3 meals, gelato, coffee, bars or swims—we’ve got them all.