Gluten-Free Globetrotting

Five years ago, I discovered travel. Now, I know what you're thinking: travel most definitely existed before I discovered it. But in my world, I discovered the joy of travel. To me, travel was something I would do in the UK, not out of it. I have been just about everywhere in England, which I guess is another indication I knew about travel long before I said I did. I’d ruled out "international travel" because in 2013, I had become a coeliac (someone who is gluten or wheat intolerant). I thought travel was a locked door to me. I soon, however, realized that actually, it was the opening of the door.

In 2015, I met my now partner. I was intrigued by her; she was different, slightly weird like me, but super intelligent… not like me. I can’t lie, I became slightly obsessed with her, not in a creepy way. But if I knew she was going to be at an event, I’d be there. Both of us were involved romantically with other people. I need to add, my obsession was strictly of an awe state as opposed to a romantic way; I never even for a minute saw that as a possibility. Yet weirdly, two years later our stars aligned. We both had something the other wanted (still not romantically), and the rest happened by accident. Firstly, we ended up working together; then, we found ourselves single at exactly the same time. We went out on a drinking binge to ease our respective pains, and the rest, as they say, is history.

I’d not left the UK in 20 years; she left every few weeks, and to add to her exotic nature, she had lived in both Denmark and Sweden, although she was from England. As usually happens in these things, one follows the other; she’d either stay UK-bound, or we’d travel the world together. The latter happened, and at the end of August, we’ll make our forty-fifth trip together. And unbeknown to me, my world has changed along with my mindset.

I’ve become obsessed with travel, more so because the life I experience as a gluten-intolerant person in the UK is a world away from the one I will experience on foreign shores. Our first trip together was to Venice, where I tried gluten-free pasta for the first time and loved it. The pizzas of Venice were to die for, and by and large, almost every place we went I could eat something. I was educating myself twice, both in terms of culture and food, which made for maybe a more magical experience than if I had done one without the other.

Austria followed our trip to Venice; we went to Vienna where food was a little more tricky, and more often than not, I was eating Viennese sausages (the ones that didn’t have gluten) and a lot of chips (French fries). One day I was able to eat a burger, wrapped in lettuce, it cost a fortune. But still, it was different.

Now I won’t bore you with an individual breakdown of where I have been; nobody's life is that short. But as a coeliac who is restricted by diet, I have been to the following countries: Spain, Italy, Austria, Switzerland, Germany, France, Uzbekistan, Bulgaria, North Macedonia, Uzbekistan, Turkey, Denmark, Sweden, Luxembourg, Portugal, Greece, and if you want to view them as different countries, the Canary Islands and Gibraltar. My traveling has been extensive but limited to only a small portion of the world. To any of these countries, the ones I struggled the most with food in were France and Germany; the rest were incredibly easy.

As a person who dreams of travel, never ever let things like food intolerances defeat you. You can have far more wonderful experiences away than at home, and in all my travels, never once have I been “glutened,” whereas at home I have many, many times. Many of these countries take being intolerant far more seriously than our own. A recent example was a swanky pizza parlour locally to me that everyone’s obsessing about; they have the sign that says “talk to us about allergies,” but their limitation is with or without wheat. Since when does meat highlight as an intolerance? I’m sure some are, so please don't hang me out to dry, but most of the time, it’s choice, not intolerance. This place didn't even cover the highest proportion of allergy sufferers, the fairly intolerant.

Because somewhere does not speak the same language as you, when actually they probably do, does not mean they have the problem to a lesser degree. Italy, until a decade ago, had a national screening plan discovering a huge proportion of Italians were gluten intolerant, and in almost every town and city you visit, you will find an exclusive gluten-free restaurant. I can’t find those even in the UK; I mean they exist but are normally partnered up with vegetarian establishments. Which is fine for me as I’m a six-day practitioner when it comes to being a vegetarian. One day each week, I’ll break and eat meat because I’m fortunate enough to have a NUMBER of underlying health issues.

If you can afford to travel, it’s one of the true gifts in life we have: to travel, experience new cultures, and try new foods. Where you can more or less rely on the weather, where you can truly disengage from your normal daily life, where you can stand on a mountain and know it’s good, clean air filling your lungs. And despite the fact that I’m fifty years old, each trip brings me new learnings, it builds my confidence, it widens my horizons in terms of just existing. Never let anything stand in your way, even cash, of getting to somewhere else, because a road well-traveled is a life that has lived, and if tomorrow I’m told that my number is up, in five years I’ve traveled so much and seen so much, I leave this world knowing I have truly lived.