OK, so here’s the thing. When we first started travelling, our philosophy was “far better to buy the cheapest cheapest clothing and replace it frequently, than buy absurdly expensive gear and run the risk of it getting ruined somehow” (or stained with soy sauce, as my clothes are wont to do). Then Hong Kong happened – where we were living in a 24-square-metre apartment with the humidity of a tropical rainforest and the window-opening capabilities of a prison. We’d wash our clothes, hang them to dry, and wait four days…
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