Every walking tour we run moves your main bag for you. That changes what packing means. You are not choosing what you can carry for a week. You are choosing what you want on your back for five hours and what can wait in the van.

On your back

A day pack of twenty to twenty-five litres with a hip belt. Inside it: a waterproof jacket, whatever the forecast says. A warm layer. Water, at least a litre and a half. Lunch, which we hand out at breakfast. Sun cream and a hat. A small dry bag for your phone.

That is all. If the pack weighs more than five kilos, something in it belongs in the other bag.

On your feet

Boots or trail shoes you have already walked fifty kilometres in. This matters more than anything else on the list. New boots are the main reason people sit out a day.

Two pairs of socks for each walking day, wool or a wool mix. Change at lunch. It sounds fussy, and it is the difference between a blister on day three and none.

Nobody has ever told me they wished they had brought a third pair of trousers. Plenty have wished for a second pair of dry socks.

What to leave

Cotton, in any layer that touches skin. It holds water and stays cold. Jeans. A full wash bag. More than one book. An umbrella, unless you are going to Greece, where it makes a good sunshade.

Leave the drone. Leave the laptop if you can bear to.

For Scotland, add a midge net from late May and waterproof trousers all year. For the Dolomites, a sheet sleeping bag for the huts. For Greece, swimming things in the day pack, always, because the path ends at the sea.