Before travelling to Southeast Asia, I had consumed enough online fearmongering to believe every dish contained peanuts, every pan contained shellfish and every cook used peanut oil recreationally.

The reality was more complicated, and much more manageable, but allergy translation cards became one of the most useful things in my bag.

They did not magically make every meal safe. They helped turn a vague conversation into a specific one.

Thailand

In the tourist areas I visited, English was often widely spoken and staff were used to travellers asking about ingredients. Thailand also has an enormous range of dishes, so I could usually find something that did not obviously centre my allergens.

I still used an allergy card when communication felt uncertain. Familiarity with tourists does not guarantee understanding of cross-contact, and a friendly “no problem” is not an ingredient list.

Vietnam

Communication was more variable, particularly away from major tourist centres, so the card became more important. Peanuts and shellfish can appear in garnishes, broths, sauces and shared preparation areas.

I often ate dishes such as pho, banh mi and bun bo Hue, but I would never describe any Vietnamese dish as automatically allergy-safe. Recipes and kitchens differ. The card helped me ask about the exact version being served rather than trusting the dish’s name.

Laos

English was less consistent in some of the places I visited in Laos, so showing a written card was far easier than performing a desperate game of allergen charades.

Cambodia

In Cambodia, I found English communication better than expected in tourist areas. Peanut sauces, satay and mixed kitchen equipment still required careful questions. Remote areas made the cards particularly useful because mobile signal and translation apps were not always reliable.

Malaysia

English was excellent in the cities I visited, which made conversations easier. It did not make peanuts or shellfish disappear. Both appeared frequently, sometimes in sauces and sambals where they were less obvious.

I rarely needed to present the physical card, but it stayed in my bag. “I did not need it today” is very different from “I should not carry it.”

Indonesia

Indonesia was the country where I felt most alert about peanuts. Dishes such as gado-gado and satay commonly use peanut-based sauces, and communication varied widely between places.

I showed my allergy card regularly, carried safe snacks and left if staff could not confidently check. Missing one exciting meal is annoying. Anaphylaxis on a remote island is considerably more annoying.

Rice, vegetables, fritters and sauces served at a restaurant in Indonesia
Local meals meant checking the exact ingredients and preparation, not relying on the dish name.
An opened durian fruit ready to eat
Trying local food still involved the same careful questions and allergy routine.

So, are translation cards worth it?

Yes. Carry cards naming your allergens, the severity of the allergy and the risk of cross-contact. Keep them offline, carry two EpiPens if prescribed and use translation apps as a backup rather than the only plan.

Southeast Asia was manageable with my allergies, but preparation did the heavy lifting. The cards did not remove risk; they helped me make better decisions about it.

Source and further guidance

Personal experience only. Recipes, kitchens and communication vary. Follow your own allergy action plan and specialist advice.