Ten Days, One Carry-On: The 2026 Holiday Edit

Where Australian men are flying this winter, what to actually pack, and how to do it without checking a bag.

There's a specific morning in June when it lands. You're scraping the windscreen at 6am, or you're standing in the kitchen waiting for the kettle with the heating still catching up, and the thought arrives fully formed: I need to be somewhere warm.

A fortnight later there's a flight booked and a group chat with a name that seemed funny at the time.

That part's never the problem. The problem is the week before you leave, when you open the wardrobe and realise every single thing in it was bought for a Sydney winter. So you panic-buy two shirts you'll never wear again, throw in nine t-shirts, and turn up in Bali with a 23kg bag and nothing you actually want to put on.

That's the gap Marlobay exists to close. Here's where Australians are heading this winter, and what to put in the bag once the flight's paid for.

Where to go: the 2026 holiday edit

1. Bali, Indonesia — the default, and still the right call

Canggu if you want the surf and the coffee, Uluwatu for the cliffs, Sanur if you've reached the age where you'd rather the beach was quiet. Bali's dry season runs May to October, which lines up exactly with the months you need it, and it's still the cheapest tropical flight out of any Australian capital. Villas with a pool go for less than a decent hotel room in Melbourne.

Pack for: Hot and humid, every day, no exceptions. Linen or nothing. One shirt good enough for a proper dinner in Seminyak, because you will end up at one.

2. Phuket and Chiang Mai, Thailand — two trips in one

The smart version of Thailand is a week on the coast and then a few days inland. Phuket or Krabi first for the beach and the reset, then north to Chiang Mai for cooler air, mountains and food that ruins you for Thai restaurants at home. Visa on arrival keeps it simple, and the whole thing costs less than a week in Queensland.

Pack for: Two climates. Phuket is 33°C and sticky. Chiang Mai mornings in June are genuinely cool. One long-sleeve linen shirt covers both.

3. Fiji — for when you actually want to stop

If Bali feels like it wants something from you, Fiji doesn't. Dry season May through October, no humidity bite, and the water really is that colour. The Yasawas are quieter and cheaper than the Mamanucas, and the flight is short enough that a ten-day trip doesn't lose two days to travel.

Pack for: Hot days, cooler evenings than you'd expect. More shorts than you think — humidity means nothing dries fast on a balcony rail.

4. Da Nang and Hoi An, Vietnam — the value pick

Still the best money you can spend in the region. Da Nang for the beach and the flights, Hoi An half an hour down the road for the old town, the tailors and the food. If you've ever wanted linen made to your measurements for the price of a shirt at home, this is the trip. Direct flights out of Sydney and Melbourne have made it a lot easier than it was five years ago.

Pack for: Warm and humid, with real rain possible. Something that dries fast and doesn't need an iron after a downpour.

5. Far North Queensland — no passport required

Don't write off the home option. Broome sits around 30°C through July with almost no rain. Cairns, Port Douglas and the Whitsundays all run warm and dry through winter, and they've quietly built themselves around longer stays — three or four weeks is normal now, not eccentric. No customs, no currency, no flight longer than three hours.

Pack for: Hot days, mild nights, mosquitoes after dark. Long-sleeve linen earns its place.

What to pack: the carry-on list

This is where most blokes lose it. Over-packing costs you baggage fees, a suitcase to wrestle through customs, and the slow realisation on day six that you've worn the same three things all week anyway.

Seven pieces cover ten days. That's the whole trick.

1. Two linen shirts. One short sleeve, one long. The short sleeve does days; the long sleeve does dinner, air conditioning, temples and mosquito hour. Get them in colours that go with everything else in the bag — sand, sage, off-white, navy. Not four different loud prints.
2. One matching set. The single highest-value thing in the case. Shirt and shorts cut from the same cloth means one decision instead of five, and it's the outfit you'll reach for on the morning you're too wrecked to think. Wear it as a set, or split it and it's two more pieces.
3. Two pairs of shorts. One you're happy to swim in, one you're happy to eat dinner in. Seven-inch inseam is the sweet spot — short enough to look current, long enough that you're not adjusting them all day.
4. One pair of linen trousers. The most underrated thing you'll pack. Dinners that turn out fancier than expected, temples with a dress code, and the flight home in air conditioning that's set to about eleven degrees.
5. One polo. The in-between piece. Better than a t-shirt when there's a chance you'll end up somewhere with a wine list, and it takes up no room.
6. Loafers and thongs. That's it. Two pairs of shoes maximum. Loafers that handle dinner without a second pair of dress shoes, and thongs for everything else. Sneakers eat half your bag and you'll wear them once.
7. Sunglasses that don't slide off. Cheap ones slip the moment you sweat, and you'll spend the trip pushing them up your nose. Not a small thing over ten days.

Add a belt, a cap, and a canvas bag that folds flat and doubles as a beach bag. Done. That fits in a carry-on with room left over, which matters more on the way home than the way there.

The Holiday Edit is live

If you're flying out this winter — or just sitting in the cold thinking about it — the Holiday Edit is everything above in one place. Linen sets, shirts, shorts and loafers, built by two blokes who've packed badly enough times to know what actually gets worn.

Stack and save applies across the whole edit, and when a size goes it doesn't come back this season.

Pack lighter. Land warmer.