Okay-- so on the NON-food allergy front, what did we do day-to-day and how did it all work? Fair warning-- this is long, and fairly detailed.
Day zero-- travel day. This is the day that we went to the airport at an ungodly hour, submitted ourselves to all of the indignities of air travel (decoupled from the rest of the tour group, recall, since they were flying {insert lowest-cost airfare here} and we were flying {safest airline here}), and this included a red-eye flight to Dublin.
Day one-- guide met us at the airport in Dublin, at which point I was trying to rehydrate my DD and get her to eat-- neither of us had slept more than ~2 hr total on the (fully booked-- as in, NO empty seats) international flight and after the Chicago gate agent incident, DD had been terrified to even leave her seat to use the restroom on that flight, much less eat or drink anything, even what she had brought on board. We went to hotel with a group which had flown in on an early flight from the east coast, and dropped our luggage (most European hotels will stow luggage until you check in/after you check out-- and check in/check-out times are far more flexible/generous than those in N. America). Then our personal trainer took us out for a test drive in Dublin.
Er.
I mean, the tour guide took us on a walking tour.
All the way down O'Connell, through Temple Bar and Grafton Street, around to Trinity, etc. Then left us in downtown Dublin with maps and directions back to the hotel, while he ran back to the airport for the rest of the group, which should have arrived during the early afternoon (but wound up delayed until evening). We skipped dinner, since we were completely exhausted by wandering around in Dublin all afternoon on foot. (Think 7-12 MILES of walking--most of it in bitter cold). DD and I are clearly some of the only people who can actually keep pace with the guide. I think that the man is actually a Sherpa. LOL. In a playful moment, DD has speculated that it would tickle him no end if everyone from her school that went on the trip were to don identical custom tees for a group shot-- "{guide-name} was my Personal Trainer-- Europe, 2013"
Day two-- went on a bus tour of Dublin, into Saint Patrick's Cathedral (where I definitely thought about Mac, because
we got to hear the choir rehearsing for Ash Wednesday services... WOW is all I can say... just..... WOW.), saw the Book of Kells, free time in Dublin during the afternoon. DD and I went to the national gallery (where we saw a Caravaggio
and a Fra Angelico alterpiece section commissioned by Cosimo Medici) and the national museum (bog bodies, a five thousand year old wooden boat, and Irish gold). Dinner was at a local pub, but at least DD was able to have some of the (not stellar) food. I had talked to her about the need to "socialize" during mealtimes, even if we had to just discreetly nibble at our stash of dried fruit/soybeans to do so). Breakfasts were the hardest this way-- mostly DD couldn't eat what was offered at all. In some way, though, I think that it was very important for others to see that we really DO live this way. We walk the walk, in other words.
Day three-- went on a day trip to the countryside-- out to a local farm for a "typical" Irish farm experience. This involved 'brown bread' (soda bread-- but recipe included an egg, which we simply omitted), checking out a peat bog, catching chickens, playing with border collie puppies, learning an Irish dancing set, and some bodhrain lessons. It was a really lovely day. Even if there was NO WAY that I (or another mom on the trip, actually) was going to let my kid drink unpastuerized milk directly from the cow.... nope, not happening. (The other mom and I both quietly agreed that brucellosis respects no cultural boundaries, tyvm
). We returned to Dublin a bit too short on time to get to the writer's museum, but did get some shopping in before dinner. Love me a town with personalized items in both my name(s) and DD's.
Hotel was lovely about dinner-- Irish beef stew and even a fruit plate in leui of the chocolate (may contain?) dessert.
Day four-- VERY early ferry to Holyhead-- on the biggest car ferry in the world... the Ulysses. Yes, for the Joyce novel. Then to Anglesey Island's Bwmeris Castle for several hours of the most bitterly cold, but
amazing sightseeing of the entire tour. The snow-capped peaks of Snowdonia over the strait, and one of Edward I's finest, best-preserved castles.... a friendly, sleepy village of 15th-18th century buildings... nothing short of AMAZING. On the other hand, it was challenging since we didn't speak any Welsh, and we wound up buying some odds and ends from the local grocery store where they were kind enough to let me use a credit card with a signature (this was apparently not ordinarily policy)-- DD got some kind of fruity-flavored milk, and I ate a chunk of local Harlech cheese. While it was very cold, it was actually a nice way to spend the afternoon. Which is good, because this was easily the very worst of our hotel experiences, this night. Hotel basically had nothing in the way of amenities but minimal amounts of hot water and a towel warmer, and dinner is best described as "mystery pasta with red meaty sauce, and some flaming hot/spicy veggie stir fry served with nasty box-dinner saffron-ish rice in an atmosphere that was more or less a cross between 'low-rent Poconos ca. 1975' and 'high school prom 1980'" and breakfast the following morning frankly doesn't even bear relating, since neither DD and I could really eat any of it anyway. We ate dried fruit and soynuts for about twenty-four hours, basically. The banquet seating at round tables and crepe paper decorations of the folding chairs were a nice touch, though. LOL. I was a little sad that there wasn't any karaoke or at least a dance floor.
Day five-- bus travel with an early afternoon stop at Stratford-upon-Avon. Also charming and 15th-18th century.... but far more commercial. It was with no small amount of amusement that I collected a "Tudor Experience" brochure for a blood and gore sideshow which looked positively Disney-worthy. LOL. Of course, it was actually housed in a 16th centure building and close (alley) so who knows. I just know that I didn't think it looked like a good use of 14 pounds. Instead, I got cross-stitch kits for Anne Hathaway's Cottage and Shakespeare's birthplace. I admit it, I rubbed the scullery floor for good measure. Just to put my skin into contact with something that the bard really-really-really touched. I'd have taken my shoes off, but frankly, it was only about 4C out at the time, so that seemed crazy. Lunch in Stratford was at a small independent restaurant (as most of the places EF uses tend to be)-- bangers and mash for everyone but the vegetarians (quiche and salads, which frankly looked better and arrived at the same time) and.... er... a baked/jacket potato with... um.... beans.... and.... uhhhhh... cheese... for DD. I strongly suspect that they simply threw together whatever seemed safe after doing a bit of digging. Her meal took about 20 minutes to arrive, so most of the group had finished eating by then. She certainly didn't get any dessert.
London that night and really, DD and I were too tired to do much of anything but check into the hotel and eat dinner at the restaurant there-- on our own.
Day six: Walking tour of London. Here, our guide REALLY hit his stride.... that morning, we went from the Westminster tube stop all the way down to Trafalgar Square, over to Leicester Square, Covent Garden, Piccadilly Circus... <blink-blink> Yes. Really. We then got turned over to a bus tour.... and our guide there took us literally all over downtown London/Westminster for several hours, finally dropping us back near Piccadilly after stops at Saint Paul's and a stop at Buckingham Palace. Dinner was at this odd little restaurant specializing in Mediterranean food... but the proprietors seemed to be ESOL, and if I had to guess, I'd say that Russian was a first language, or maybe Hungarian. More bangers and mash, which they insisted
were safe, but which DD and I neither one had a great feeling about...
and then they served (for dessert) this thing which was Greek,
like a cheesecake, but mascarpone-based and topped with fruit. It was delicious, and while I can't recall the name of the item, I know that there is such a thing which is in fact egg-free, but there was no way that DD was touching it. I complimented her on her good sense, by the way. Free time-- so before catching the tube back out to our hotel (in Ealing) I went to Hatchard's.
Yes, I went to a bookstore as my one and only "MUST" see thing near Piccadilly in London. Bought a copy of Peter Ackroyd's eponymous tome of the city's "biography" for good measure.
Day seven: was supposed to be Windsor and Hampton court, but because of the Easter holiday (this was Good Friday, mind), we instead went to the Tower of London, which suited DD and I more than fine. Then out to Hampton Court. Our guide was a blue-eyed and charming Irish-looking Londoner with the curious name "Pepe Martinez." This was not nearly the most amusing portion of our day, however. Our bus driver's name was (you really can't make this kind of thing up-- truly) ....
Jesus. No, not
Hay-zooss the way one usually hears it here in North America. GEE-zuss. I feel very fortunate that he was able to take the time on what had to have been a pretty, er.... busy... day. <snicker> I have been laughing about the fact that Jesus drove our tour bus on Good Friday for two weeks now.
On a more serious note, standing inside of Henry VIII's chapel at Hampton Court on Good Friday was more than a little moving and surreal.
I again thought of Mac.
Then back to hotel for dinner, which was buffet-style. Lasagna, salad, and some sort of dessert. Clearly this was not something that was likely to be safe for DD, so we handed over her chef card and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited some more. They finally made her a pizza, but by that time well over an hour had gone by, and most of the rest of the group had long since finished eating and gone to their rooms for the super-early start in the morning. Oh, and then the hotel fire alarm went off at 3:30 A.M. I learned several interesting things about fire alarms, hotels, and Europe; 1. the hotel has to call the local authorities to turn these things OFF, they cannot do it themselves, evidently, 2. the interval and duration of the alarms within the rooms is set to "random, but loud" so that it pretty much CANNOT be slept through, and 3. interestingly, if guests attempt to disable in-line smoke detectors, this prevents even the local authorities from resetting the fire alarm system for a large hotel. All of this would have been much more interesting during daytime hours, however. At four-thirty or so they got it sorted, anyway.
Day eight: another travel day-- took the Eurostar to Paris. At Gare du Nord, a luggage transport service took our bags to the hotel. We went on the Metro to the Ile de Cite, where we got to see our first bag-snatching within just a few feet of Notre Dame... and then walked all over the Ile, walked to Place du Pompadou (?) where we broke for lunch and shopping. It was BITTERLY cold-- we got snowed on a bit at Notre Dame. I noted on a local reader board at Pompadou that there was an air quality advisory and the very young, very old, and those with chronic pulmonary conditions should restrict outdoor activities. I mentioned this to our guide, and in fairness, he DID slow the pace a bit after I mentioned it and pointed out that in our group alone we had at least four asthmatics that I knew about. Thank
god I read French reasonably well. Well. Maybe not "reasonably" well, but as well as a fourth or fifth grader, perhaps.
Dinner was at a place that specialized in Flammekuchen-- and they made DD a special salad, since the standard family-style one must have had Caesar dressing on it. It's possible that this is where my shellfish exposure happened (and maybe I picked it up on clothing the next morning). It's also possible that the chocolate version of the dessert flammekuchen was contaminated (see asthma attack), and though DD didn't eat any of that one, she did try the apple version. After dinner, the group wanted to go to Montmartre on the metro (which we were okay with.... until the asthma attack). Took a taxi to hotel with a teacher.
Day nine: Bus tour of Paris and then to Versaille. Versaille was... interesting. Overwhelmingly opulent-- to the point of disgusting, at least for DD and I. Dinner was at a really, REALLY nice place in the Latin Quarter. I highly recommend this place to anyone who is in Paris-- it's Cafe Latin, just a couple of blocks away from the Pont Saint-Michel Metro stop. DD got to eat
everything at this meal-- duck, fresh bread, salad with chevre, and even tarte tatan with creme fraiche. It was so good and they were so lovely to her that
DH and I went back several days later. 
Day ten: the Louvre and free time, which we used to walk from the Jardin de Tuileries to the Roman baths near the (now) museum of the Middle Ages, formerly the site of the town house for the bishop of the Cluny monastery, and touring Notre Dame. Went to a small restaurant down near the Rue de Gobelins for crepes. While this was a little hair-raising (they initially served DD a meal that
very clearly contained an egg-containing crepe-- which
I noticed), they did eventually get it right, and DD got to eat savory and sweet crepes.
Day eleven-- we rode out to CDG with the tour group, said goodbye, and met DH's airplane. Then we got yelled at by angry Parisian commuters as we and our fat American suitcases took up valuable real estate on a rush-hour RER B train back into the Latin Quarter. LOL. Happily, our hotel was more than happy to take the bags a bit early, and we headed off to the d'Orsay for the majority of the day. Unfortunately, at this point, it became clear that the nasty upper respiratory bug that our portion of the tour group was sharing around for the past two weeks had come home to roost... DD was VERY wilty looking by the time we walked back to the hotel, but she rallied enough to want to go to Montmartre that evening. We all loved the mosaics inside Sacre Coeur.
Day twelve--
finally!! I got to see my personal Holy Grail. Yes, one of the things on my own idiosyncratic bucket list. Foucault's pendulum. Fair warning here-- the museum is not very clear in terms of English signage, and it
is part of a larger complex of in-use teaching and research facilities. We initially got lost, but found our way, and this is easily one of our favorite Paris experiences as a family.
We went to L'Orangerie to see the Water Lilies and Picassos, then walked up the Jardin de Tuileries and went to the Musee de Moyen Age, which was also just... wow. Stunning.
DH and I went out for dinner after tucking a fairly ill DD into bed at our hotel (in the Latin Quarter).
Day Fourteen: DD slept in, DH and I went to Notre Dame, then DD and I went and picked up a few souvenirs around the corner from the hotel, then we rode the metro up to Gare du Nord for our Eurostar to London. In London, picked up day Tube passes and go out to Tower Hill for one of DD's must-haves... the LondonWalks Ripper tour. It was, in all fairness, pretty terrific, though DD was pretty much running on fumes, and we all knew it.
Day Fifteen: DD is too sick to really see much of the city-- so DH and I leave her sleeping and check in on her periodically. He and I go on the same basic walking route as on DD and I's first day in London... up Whitehall to Trafalgar, stopping at the Horse Guards along the way, and lunch near Covent Garden, then tube back to hotel (where we brought her safe fish and chips from our lunch), then walked from Islington hotel location near St. Pancras down to British Museum, then tube down to Embankment, walked around Saint Bride's, down to Temple, walked along Victoria Embankment, saw the Globe, saw the Tate Modern, walked up to Saint Paul's, caught the tube back to hotel, and walked over to a local neighborhood pub for dinner. After dinner, desperate packing measures were implemented to fit everything into luggage. This involved leaving several packages of Ramen in London.
Day sixteen-- travel day home. Rode Piccadilly tube line out to Heathrow on the second train of the morning-- DH left from a different terminal than we did. DD and I were both fairly miserable since both of us had caught the bug by then, and because the night before we left, there were a group of VERY LOUD Italians who were running up and down the stairs and shouting at one another until about one-thirty.... and we had to get up at three. So sick as dogs, and having had WAY too little sleep... yeah, not exactly the best start to the day. But we managed just fine in any case.
Why this worked:
1. I am McGyver. Seriously. I pack prepared, and what I don't pack, I can improvise. We just rolled with it, no matter what it happened to be. Frigid beyond words? We wore more layers and bought Irish-made gloves as souvenirs.
2. We were NEVER grumpy about what
wasn't... only pleased and gracious about what WAS. This wins you a lot of points with anyone-- but particularly with people of other cultures/nationalities who may expect American entitlement/expectations to make us demanding or unpleasant. When you're nice and genuinely friendly/curious/engaging, it pays off.
3. We simplified the difficulty as much as possible-- we didn't TRY to make hotel staffers "find" us a safe breakfast-- we just picked things over and used our judgment... and honestly, I ate "vegan" or "vegetarian" meals wherever possible rather than making MY allergy even part of the picture.
4. We are walkers by nature, and we tend to be in better shape than a lot of people. How much better has now been made crystal clear to me. We also tend to have less trouble than most people with directions, with maps, etc.
5. We aren't fussy/high maintenance. We shower in the mornings, it's true... but our toiletries consisted of deodorant, shampoo, and body wash, lotion, a shared hairbrush, toothpaste, and lip balm and a toothbrush each. BOTH of us can be fully dressed and out the door in a total of thirty minutes.
