Dental Tourists February 22, 2018
As promised, this post will enlighten you on the topic of travel to foreign lands for the purpose of getting one's teeth fixed! I had thought that my husband was the only person who visited foreign dentists, but it turns out that there is a whole category of tourism devoted to finding quality dental services in far-away places - at reasonable (some might say "cheap") prices. Bruce is a veteran at this, having had crowns put on in New Zealand and cleanings done twice in Guatemala - all with excellent results, I might add, with very accomplished professionals. Not everyone would entrust their dental care to a stranger, but my husband enjoys forging practical new paths. Due to his care in planning, it usually works out for him!
This year's dental adventure was the result of his local dentist having recommended an implant at what seemed like a steep price, as well as multiple fillings. This occurred at the same time that we had plans to visit Hungary, which, as it turns out, has a reputation of highly skilled dentistry. We learned that many Brits travel to Hungary to take advantage of the low-cost, high quality dental care offered here. Bruce did some research and found Helvetic Clinic, a Swiss company that employs Hungarian dentists in its clinic in Budapest. It seemed like a good combination.
From home, Bruce had made an appointment for a consult the day after we were to arrive. This would give him a chance to check out the clinic before making any commitments. He was pretty sure that he wasn't going to arrange for an implant, since that involves surgery and recovery time, but he might get the cleaning and fillings done - and a second opinion on the implant.
We arrived in Budapest on a snowy, wet Tuesday evening, after a 6 hour train ride from Prague, with no Hungarian currency on hand and a phone that wasn't working in a new country. With no GPS, we resorted to the old fashioned method of finding our Airbnb apartment - by reading a map!
We arrived in the vicinity of our apartment to find an apparently crazy man out on the sidewalk, yelling and waving his arms at passersby. Due to meet our landlord, for a brief second we both wondered if that were him! It wasn't :). Miklos, a seemingly tender-hearted fellow, was standing just beyond the wild man, with a baby carriage holding his infant son. A rather shabby-looking, but once lovely, door opened to the cavernous foyer of a large apartment building. The tiny elevator, with chipped red paint, could hold only Bruce, me, and our two suitcases. As it began its slow ascent to the 3rd floor, I couldn't help but wonder if it had been inspected recently. No certificate in sight. With the most amazing screech, the doors opened and we stepped out into a pitch black corridor. Luckily, I was able to spot a light switch. Soon Miklos and the baby landed, and we followed them to the apartment, along a space open to the outdoors on a balcony, of sorts.
After that dubious introduction, our apartment turned out to be delightful! Old and charming, four rooms with high ceilings, lovely woodwork and lots of windows and light. All decked out in Ikea furnishings :)! Miklos quickly showed us the ropes, as his little guy began complaining, and then we were on our own and counting our lucky stars.
The next morning, we were up bright and early for the appointment at the clinic. Bruce had chosen the apartment at least partially based upon its proximity to the clinic, about 6 blocks away, tucked behind the elegant Opera building.
The clinic is accessed through a hotel lobby to a space that is light-filled and airy, with a glass ceiling. A trim, bespeckled young man named Gianni greeted us in fluent English. He was our guide for most of the experience, the personal face of the clinic.
Gianni gave us the particulars of how things would proceed, beginning with an x-ray and review of records which Bruce had brought along. This was done quickly - and for free. After a relatively short time, during which we could watch the Olympics (silently) on a huge tv screen - or read a Hungarian news publication, in English, with a cover story critiquing Trump's first year in office (upshot: he's not doing too badly - this from a nation that is tipping precariously right), Gianni was back. He brought with him a raft of multi-page documents describing their conclusions about Bruce's dental situation, as well as three options for treatment. Gianni was knowledgeable, showing us samples of the implants typically used, one type made in Sweden and one in South Korea. There was no pressure to go with the implant option. In fact, their suggestion was to begin with the least intrusive treatment, i.e. doing a root canal on the tooth in question. Sounded intrusive enough!
Bruce made up his mind on the spot to have a cleaning, a root canal, and 5 fillings. We were to reappear the next day at 8 am to begin. That left us with some time for sight-seeing that day.
Since nearby St. Stephen's Basilica is one of the Top 10 Sights for Budapest, we began there. It was a lovely church, not terribly old, finished in 1905. It happened to be February 14 and son Matt's birthday. I was pleased to spot St. Matthew on the outside wall :).
And, it being Valentine's Day, we checked out possibilities for a special meal that evening. A sidewalk purchase of sweet pink tulips brought happiness for days! That evening we planned an early supper at Academia Italia, which we had noticed next door to the basilica. After a week of much meat in Prague, we were ready for some pasta. What a fun experience, a resto staffed by energetic young Italians, proudly offering their wines, their pasta dishes, their cannolis. Not having a reservation, we were seated at a small table on high stools next to the glass-walled kitchen where we could watch the chefs bustling about, which we loved! I'm still drooling at the memory of the hand-made pasta. We Webbs do enjoy our food :)!
Back to the dental saga, we made three trips to the clinic the next day! There does seem to be a lack of coordination. However, we were impressed by the careful and honest assessment, including making sure that Bruce had an antibiotic before treatment, due to his pacemaker; deciding that the tooth couldn't be saved and so canceling the root canal; and ending up with the most thorough cleaning that his mouth has ever encountered, carried out by a fully trained dentist.
The day after this, on Friday, three fillings were done. And on Monday, very late afternoon - so that we could save the rest of the day for proper sight-seeing, the work was concluded with another four fillings. It turned out that there had been more cavities than were first identified. The treatments were all carried out by the same female dentist. The clinic guarantees its work.
I was proud of my dental-phobic husband for getting through all of this. He was pretty shaky after periods as long as 2.5 hours, lying prone while keeping his mouth wide open with someone's hands in it! However, he concluded that he'd never had dental treatment without a shred of pain - all at a very reasonable cost.
So, that's our dental tourism story. It was an interesting look into a side of travel that is more developed than we had realized. We felt it was successful.
Now, on to the fun stuff! Coming up: our Communism walking tour; our morning at the thermal baths; street art; and more.
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