Is there a secret to getting perfectly glassy skin while fighting fine lines, wrinkles and signs of aging? Yes! Just travel to a country where you can get medical grade cosmetics over the counter. “Why do you like to travel?” Sure there’s reasons such as personal growth, learning, new perspectives on life…blah blah blah. Between you and me the real reason is the un-regulated medical cosmetics course! If you also happen to be in a county with a pretty lax attitude to medications and their prescriptions then sure why not make the most of it. I was visiting my friend in Almaty, Kazakhstan, when on a walk he began to list all the typically restricted medications he was able to get here without a prescription. As soon as he dispensed this information, I became mildly erratic and fixated on finding the next nearest pharmacy.
I…uhhh…I need something for my gums. I think I have an ulcer.
While technically this was not untrue, I did have an ulcer, my ambitions were much larger. At the next pharmacy we passed I tried my best to describe an ulcer with a combination of pointing to my gums and overly graphic google image results. I was presented a pink box with cyryllic I could not read but there was a picture of a tooth. A tooth is close enough to my gums so I just nodded and accepted the box. Besides, I had other priorities. I casually glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching. And, with my best impression of an undercover police officer trying to score some drugs, I subtly slid my phone across the counter face up displaying the word differin spelled out in cyryllic.
“Differin?” She frowns and shakes her head, seeming to not even recognize the word.
Shit. Well. What can I do really? I wave my hands to try to indicate never mind and hand over the cash for my mystery tooth ointment. I’m about to turn and leave when something strikes me. Wait. differin is the brand name. I turn back.
“Adapalene?” I ask.
“Ahhhhh Adapalene!” She throws her hands up in that why didn’t you just say such a gesture. She reaches under the counter into a glass display. It was quite literally under my nose and if I had been able to read cyryllic I would have seen it. She puts a small green box and points to the price tag. I take my wallet to start counting out the cash before I hesitate. Actually, that tube looks kind of small. I hold my index and middle finger up to her.
“Ehhh…actually can I get two please?”
So what is Adapalene and why am I trying to hoard it from Kazakhstan, like it is precious contraband? Adapalene is a retinoid, and retinoids are more or less the gold standard of skincare. Maybe only beaten out by wearing daily suncream and spf. They increase skin cell turnover, help unclog pores, and, with enough patience and emotional resilience, promise to sand down fine lines and wrinkles until your face resembles a younger, more employable version of itself. Usually in Ireland you can’t get it without a prescription, but here in Kazakhstan it’s just sold over the counter. Of course there are side effects to not using it properly, it can cause more damage than what it fixes, but use it right and it is probably the best you can get.
From Almaty we took a flight to Tashkent, Uzbekistan, and then travelled further on to Bukhara. Here, of course, it was cheaper yet again and, of course, I went prowling to get even more adapalene. Why not try and smuggle back at least a two-year supply? With prices like these, I would be an idiot not to hoard. I found yet another pharmacy where I could get two more boxes of adapalene, this time with the help of a friendly Russian man to translate. Now, I know I shouldn’t care too much about my appearance, and yes, I know this is all incredibly vain, but Uzbekistan has remarkably young demographics, with an average age of just 27. I’m surrounded by children, teenagers, and many, many people in their early 20s, just to keep me reminded that I am the age that I am. Seeing so many young people did get to me just a little. Of course, adapalene is not plastic surgery. I don’t have a baby face, and this cream is not going to simulate reconstructive surgery, but I want to try my best to prolong any assumptions about me based on how I look. Even if wearing my SPF every day and retinol at night leads to me being mistaken for even a single year younger than I am, I will take that as a win.
Of course, in the grand scheme of things, this won’t really matter. In fact, it’s actually quite ironic that I’m obsessing over an anti-ageing skincare drug while on a trip to the ancient cities of the Silk Road. I am surrounded by the ancient, thousand-year-old monuments and mosques of Bukhara, reminding me that all this is futile. I know that not long after I am dead, I will be forgotten. Cities and culture and civilisations endure. Skin does not.The Silk Road once carried spices, silk, and ideas between East and West. Now it carries me, clutching a suspicious number of tiny blue boxes, hoping customs don’t ask me what the hell I’m doing. Before I went to Uzbekistan I envisioned myself arriving in the country as a hardened adventurer there to trace the silk road in the footsteps of Marco Polo. In reality Marco Polo battled thieves, disease, food shortages while I panic bought water and SPF50 suncream. Still, I think the very real possibility of getting mild sunburn is no less harrowing. Daily suncream is probably the only thing that surpasses Adapalene for anti-aging skincare. So on the tiny chance I’m not entirely lost to time and go down in history like Marco Polo , I’d at least like to be remembered with smooth skin.
Why do people travel, and does this really have anything to do with adapalene? I’m sure the psychology, philosophy, and sociology of it have been dissected to death in papers, podcasts, and TED Talks by people in a better position to talk on the topic than me. I don’t have much to add. However, if you’re anything like me, I think you’ll admit that travel often feels like a frantic attempt to feel young again. For me, at least, it is often a way of sidestepping responsibility just a little longer. Still living at home? No plans for a career? No plans to start a family? That’s all fine if you’re focused on travelling. If I were to go on welfare for a month and sit in my hammock day drinking in the back garden, that would be concerning to most. However, if I sit in a hammock and day drink in Southeast Asia, that’s “ travel”, and that’s absolutely fine. There is one caveat. Looking younger also goes a long way. People are always wary of the 30-year-old in the hostel. But if you’re 30 years old and look 25, well, that’s all right then. While adapalene can’t stop time, it can at least confuse your younger fellow travellers. If I’m already flying thousands of kilometres to pretend I’m still twenty-one, I may as well pick up a tube of pharmaceutical optimism while I’m at it. So is travel all about seeking out unregulated cosmetics? No. But I don’t think it’s that outlandish to connect the two. Travel is meant to change you, they say. And in a way it has. If I hadn’t traveled to Kazakhstan I might not have gotten my Adapalene and have the great skin I do now. I know it really doesn’t matter. We’re all going to be forgotten eventually. Still, if history is going to forget me anyway, I’d at least like to be forgotten with decent pores.
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