Relax and Go

Or: When “I Gotta Go” Goes International

Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya

Here in the good old United States of America, we have a remarkable talent for speaking in polite code. Take the phrase “I gotta go.” Short. Sweet. Vague. Yet universally understood. No one thinks you’re announcing a sudden desire to leave the building permanently. No. They know. You know. Everybody knows. It’s a bathroom emergency wrapped in social decorum.

Now take that phrase, put it on a box, fly it across the Atlantic, drop it into Europe, and voilà — you have the makings of one truly unforgettable vacation mishap.

This story begins, as all great travel mishaps do, with optimism, passports, and the firm belief that our digestive systems would behave abroad exactly as they do at home. According to Dr. Vogler of the Cleveland Clinic, bowel movements thrive on routine. Eat differently, drink differently, sleep differently, walk more, sit less, cross time zones, breathe foreign air — and suddenly your digestive system stages a protest. Traveling, he explains, is basically an invitation for constipation or diarrhea to RSVP “yes.”

And oh, did our digestive systems RSVP.

After two lovely days in the Netherlands, our travel party arrived in Brussels. Chocolate was divine. Architecture was stunning. The cobblestones were charming. The bowels? Absolutely…