A bit of worry crept into my head while making my way to the airport. I'd packed my carry-on chock full. Brimming with so many clothes for the week away that I was worried the pressure on my computer would crack my laptop screen. I'd brought mostly T-shirts, a pair of shorts and an extra set of jeans in case I dump a beer in my lap at any point, and I also threw in an extra pair of old shoes at the bottom of the bag. The shoes smell a bit like I'm using them to smuggle smoked salmon, but I figured people on the plane wouldn't be able to smell them inside my bag. But the worry that's crept into my head is that, while the people on the plane might not be bothered, the clothes in my bag might not get off so lucky. If I crack open that bag and all my clothes for the week smell like rotten feet, things are going to be ugly for everyone around me.