And it's not just man-made obstacles that can pose a problem: When a group I was with hiked a cave in New Zealand, each of us lugged an inflatable raft on our way to an underground river. For my colleagues, it was not an arduous walk. For me, it meant bending deeply for long stretches (and still scraping my helmet on the cave's rocky ceiling).

Bus travel
In many countries, a bus is the only practical way to get from point to point. For meeting people and enjoying the landscape at a slow pace, a bus is hard to beat—except for the absence of legroom.

In the typical bus, my knees are either driven into the seat ahead or scrunched up to my chin. If my leg edges out into the aisle for relief, some youngster may use it as a handy chair. I've often been handed a baby to hold, and once traveled for hours along the Peruvian coast with an unseen fowl pecking at my shoelaces. The solution? For any trip longer than half an hour, try to reserve a seat in the first row. As a distant second, try the seat in the center of the back row. If reservations aren't accepted, I get to the door of the bus very early and, when it opens, lunge for the front seat.

When I wind up with a really bad seat for a long trip, I may head for the roof luggage rack. It's preferred seating in terms of space, fresh air, and electrifying views (and an electrifying experience if you don't watch for power lines hanging low over the road). That's also where you'll meet the most savvy travelers. And, of course, up there you can also keep an eye on your stuff.

Airplanes
In the"economy," or cattle car, section of most planes, lack of leg room is excruciating. I've grown used to the person seated in front of me turning around to see why his seat won't recline. It's because the back of his seat and my knees can't occupy the same space at the same time.

When I make a reservation, I try to reserve the exit row or the bulkhead row. Trouble is, so do a lot of people. For a very long flight, say to Sydney, I may choose the flight or the airline based on availability of a seat with legroom.

The bulkhead used to be reserved for categories such as mothers with babies or people on crutches. Now, some airlines hang onto those seats for their most frequent fliers, mothers be damned.

Be persistent. Keep asking for a seat with adequate legroom. If the door closes and one of those favored seats is unoccupied, hurl your body into it. If you're slow, I guarantee you another traveler will get there first.

Beds
Overseas, the king size bed is sighted less frequently than the blue-footed booby. Ask for one anyway. If you have no luck, ask for a queen—sometimes called (for reasons about which one might speculate) a "French" bed. As a last resort, ask for a bed without a footboard. In any case, don't automatically accept the first bed offered.

I stayed in a hotel in Uzbekistan where the only bed available was short and narrow with wood rails on both ends and one side. Undaunted, I hauled the bed clothes to the floor and slept in peace.

The fact is, the distant world is not sized for tall folks. While the strategies I've suggested will help, the greatest relief may come from state of mind.

In moments of potential stress, I often think, "Be or be one." By that I mean, be patient or become—as a result of getting stressed out—a patient. When I just can't make the space stretch to fit me, I enjoy the space as it is.

I hope these thoughts are helpful.
Rob