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Always travel with a first aid kit (or a surgeon)

Tuesday 21 February 2012
The lesser spotted Nuz - everyone needs one.

I'm well known as a bit of a Clumsy Clara. I've seen the inside of far too many A&E departments, mostly with ridiculous ailments. I've been paralysed by an insect bite in Rome. Collapsed on the floor of Grand Central Station in New York. Concussed and bleeding after a fall in London.

Actually, that one took in a few different A&Es. Firstly in the one by London Bridge (which I was convinced was actually a tube station. I was furiously demanding to know why we were even there, as tube workers have no medical qualifications whatsoever. Oh, my friends loved that) Then an actual hospital when we discovered I wasn't so welcome at London Bridge.

Because of the backlog of craziness, I'm always a little nervous when it comes to my health on holiday. I'm convinced that if anyone is going to attract a medical emergency, it will be me. The girl whose bungee cord snapped? That would be me.

So I'm always looking over my shoulder (which explains why I walk into so many doors).

But I've found another solution. Recently I went to Marrakech, for a little January break with my good friend Nuz. Nuz is a great holiday companion. She doesn't mind holding the map, she's happy to eat ice cream for lunch, and she doesn't snore. She also has another point to her name.


Oh, the relief of travelling with a medical professional. I felt I could do anything, and there was someone right by my side to fix me. Rickety bridge that looks like the start of a terrible news item? Well, let me at it, for a surgeon is by my side! Wet slippy rocks by a waterfall? I'm climbing up, because there's someone here to make a splint out of twigs and shove my bone back into my leg if I slip.

Though in retrospect, we would have both fallen to our deaths...

As well as all of that confidence, there's the added bonus of hilarious medical anecdotes. Mostly involving people coming in with things being stuck up other things. Tales I'll never tire of.


  1. I'll never forgive my parents for making me wash the dishes on a childhood camping holiday. Hello clumsy washing up method, a shattered glass in the washing up bowl and a scar on my knuckle that's still visible to this very day. Never make a child wash dishes - it's dangerous! Is what I used to say every time that particular chore was thrown my way in future. But at least we brought plasters on the trip.....

  2. nice to get information like this....
    good work keep going..


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