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Ford Prefect expounds on the virtues of the towel. Towlie, perhaps a little biased, urges all around him to remember to bring a towel. And now I too wish to express the illimitable value of the humble towel.

In my travels I never panic, for my towel serves many roles. I have used it to, quite appropriately, dry myself off after a shower. But, so have I used it to prevent such a dousing in the first place, draping it about my shoulders and head in a sudden storm.

On the long, bumpy rides along Eastern Europe’s rails I have placed my towel, carefully rolled, beneath my head to guard me in my sleep against the cold and hardness of the window upon which I rested.

In the far, frozen reaches of the great Arctic North, the towel found its way beneath my jacket, wrapped tightly about my torso, an extra layer of warmth.

When I needed to carry extra food, which could not fit in my backpack, quickly my towel transformed into pouch, folded up at the corners and tied into a handle–the crusty bread and fresh fruits dry and unmolested in its hold.

When a rough journey was ahead of me, where I might spill upon the ground after a mighty leap or a quick stumble, I would bind my laptop with the towel to protect it should I land on my backpack.

Always, the towel should be at your side, whether you are hitching the galaxy, chillin’ in Colorado, or bumming around Europe. The bigger, the fluffier, the better. I’ve only listed a few of its most useful applications, yet the towel’s true purposes are endless.