Now, before you say anything — yes, thirty. I know how it sounds. But think it through with me, because I have thought it through, several times, and I have also packed for it.

Super-Tac is a polyurethane grip with a sticky surface, and the sticky surface absorbs sweat, which is what keeps the connection between hand and handle from slipping as the session goes long. Now: a fresh wrap lasts one to three sessions depending on how much you sweat and how tightly you hold on. Call it a week.

The reel holds thirty Super-Tac overgrips.

Thirty of them is therefore most of a year for one player — except that you will also regrip a partner's frame at least twice, you will lose two in the bottom of the bag, you will put one on a junior racquet in an emergency, and you should have two in the car, because the day you need one and do not have one is the day it matters. So thirty is not stockpiling.

Thirty is arithmetic. I have also brought spare socks and a second towel, and nobody has ever thanked me and everybody has borrowed both.

And Miskolc, which is a town that agrees with me about preparation. Above it the Gothic church on Avas hill has its bell tower standing apart from the building — separate, in case of fire, which is exactly the kind of thinking I approve of.

Diósgyőr Castle has four corner towers and was rebuilt over a fortress that belonged to six queens in turn, each of whom presumably had opinions about supplies.

And then there is the cave bath at Miskolctapolca, warm water running through natural limestone passages, which you go into with nothing but yourself, and which is the one occasion in life when being over-prepared is impossible.

You will get use out of these everywhere from a July clinic to a winter indoor court back home, and by the way, the Otto Herman Museum holds the finds from the caves in the hills above town, and it is worth the hour.

"Thirty is not stockpiling. Thirty is arithmetic."

Buy on Amazon