Travel, the Nitty-Gritty: Part II: Health

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Here it is, the long-promised (if not awaited— no, I would not assume anyone was on tender-hooks about this) piece on travel and health.


Travel Medical Insurance

If you are old or old-ish, which I am, you would probably be wise to have overseas health-care coverage. Check your extended health policy carefully. A few years ago, we paid for an add-on travel insurance policy with Blue Cross, only to discover later that we’d been covered all along, on our regular policy. You can’t count on BC Med (you BC residents—and I would imagine it’s the same in other provinces) to cover out-of-province expenses. Even with travel medical insurance, expect a hassle if you should need to use it; you may need to pay up front and collect from your insurer later. This said, I am no expert on these things; I just feel more comfortable travelling with insurance.

If you are young (and I refrain from quips about the definition of young—and dependence—here), you will probably travel without insurance and just call on Mommy and Daddy to bail you out if anything happens. (Oops, I think I just quipped.)

‘Nuff. Insurance is boring.



Digestion

Now we’re getting interesting….

Expect some, ur, digestive disturbances when you travel. Is it the sitting on a plane for the better part of a day that clogs you up, or the dehydrating atmosphere, or the pre-fab food they serve you? Who knows, but clogged you will likely be, for a day or two. Not a big deal, really. Not nearly so big a deal as when things go in the other direction.

Diarrhea! It hits suddenly, and it has no respect for your circumstances. And your circumstances are that you may not have easy access to toilets. Or the toilets you have access to, say, on a train, may be shared with other diarrhetic travellers. Need I say more?

Thank science for Immodium. It works. Quickly. One dose, for me, usually does the trick. I’m not talking about diarrhea caused by an infection such as giardia, which might not respond to a drug like Immodium, but for the every-day brand of traveller’s diarrhea brought on by—who knows?—a change in diet, different water, the dirty carrots at the juice vendor, Immodium is fantastic. Don’t leave home without it. It’s available at pharmacies in Europe, when your supply runs out. I carry a six-pouch with me ALWAYS, in my purse or day pack.



Feet, the Shoes

Walking is the name of the game when you’re travelling. You walk everywhere, if you want to see anything. There are buses, cabs, and subways in cities, but you’ll miss half the city if that’s how you get around. Outside of cities, the only way to explore is by walking. So plan to walk.

I discovered rocker soles a year ago, in Las Vegas, in the form of Skechers Shape-ups They were a new thing then, and I hadn’t seen them in Canada, but was interested in their claims that walking in them tones up the legs and posterior. I asked the salesperson what I could expect from them, and she told me I would get relief from lower back pain (which I’ve suffered from since my second pregnancy). I asked when, and she said right away. It was true! I tried a pair, and I had no pain. None! Instantly! I bought them, and have worn little else since. When I wear “regular” shoes, back pain; with these, none, no matter how long I’m on my feet. I don’t really buy the claim that they help you tone up, but I suppose since I can walk longer and faster on these things, the toning happens anyway.

For my travelling summer, I needed sandals with the same sole, and found them at a local specialist shoe store (Foot Solutions on Broadway near Macdonald, for anyone interested). Several companies are now making shoes with the rocker sole, so there is plenty of choice. The look is not great—clunky, with that fat sole—but that takes a distant second place to comfort, in my mind. One day in Paris, I decided to wear my daintier suede Tivas (still a “comfort shoe”), to look better with my dress, and I regretted the decision within half an hour. Not good, on a six-hour walking day.






Feet, the Skin

A side effect of hours of walking every day, for me, was the development of callouses on my feet. I’ve never really had a problem with callouses (though I know some people do), so I didn’t pay much attention. Several weeks into the trip, I noticed the ball of my right foot feeling a little tender, and found that a sizable callous had kind of folded over on itself. I sought out a pharmacy for something to shave down the callous. I could only find a pumice stone, which was better than nothing, and I began a regime of soaking and pumicing the callous. Once in Paris, however, a small fissure opened. Ouch! I soaked and softened it, and put on antibiotic cream and a bandaid and got serious about finding a callous-shaver, which I finally did. Because I caught it early, the fissure healed quickly. Two months later, however, I still have a crevice in the spot, and am probably vulnerable to a recurrence; essentially, I managed to ruin that part of my foot. I have added the shaver, which is a specialised razor-thingy with an actual razor blade in it, to my list of must-takes. And I will not ignore my feet any more.

Feet. The key to happy travelling. Huh.

Blogging and soaking in Paris

Weight Control and Fitness

Most women I know, myself included, gain weight when we travel. Our usual combination of tricks for weight control—keeping junk food out of the house, eating at home rather than out, sticking to simple, healthy food, eating to satisfy actual hunger—is not an option, and the food, oh the food, begs to be tried. Screams to be tried! You have to have Paris’s best ice cream! Several times! Baguettes, cheese, foie gras! Rosé wine for lunch! To travel is to eat.

Part of my problem, if I can call it that, is that because eating interrupts the activities of the day as much as being part of them, when John needs to eat, I eat too. If I didn’t, we’d have to stop again in an hour. This means I’m eating before I’m actually hungry, and eating more often than I need to.

Exercise is the other side of weight control, of course, and in that travelling is stellar. There is not a whole lot of sitting around on a trip. We could feel our fitness levels increasing on this trip; in the beginning, climbing the stairs to Ezra and Katharina’s apartment was strenuous, while several weeks later, we could trot up the escarpments to Cathar strongholds.

So. Stepping on the scales when I got home might have been traumatic, but . . . I’d gained about a pound (.6 kilo, Ezra). Wahooo! A pound is nothing; my weight has a 3-pound day-to-day variation anyhow. I lost that extra pound in a week. Whew.

I credit the walking, mainly. I also credit picnicking for at least one meal of the day, rather than eating in a restaurant. Also, I got quite tired of French food (!), and was tending to eat fewer “viandes” and more salads by the end. And remember the salad meals in Berlin! It all added up to a healthy trip without an appreciable weight gain.

But traveller beware: it’s easy to “let go”, and paying later is always painful, long after that fine Isle St Louis glace is forgotten.



When I was young, sometime back in the neolithic era, I didn’t think at all about health concerns, and certainly didn’t prepare for eventualities. I once spent a few days squatting over a hand-dug hole on a Mexican beach, after enjoying carrot juice in a local market. I never got sore feet. I couldn’t gain weight to save my life, I was so active in my regular life. Now that I’m old-ish (or old, depending on your perspective), I carry drugs and appliances to keep me going. I can live with that, and I can travel!


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