The night before my one-way flight, I was kneeling on a bedroom floor with a scale in one hand and a pile of clothes I loved in the other. Two bags. Twenty-three kilos each. Every extra kilo meant a fee I could not afford, so I kept taking things out and putting the same things back.

I had left a home, a job and most of my family to start again somewhere new, and what I could carry was my whole wardrobe. The vacuum bags I found were noisy, flimsy, or needed a household vacuum I would not have at the other end.

So I tested sets until I found one with a pump that charges, a zip that stays shut and bags that lasted past the first wash. That set became EB Travel.