This bad spell of weather has given me the opportunity to take out my big bad walking boots. I had to dig them out of the hall closet, as there’s not much call for two inch tread patterns when the only terrain is pavements and parks.
As I walked to the shops this afternoon, I realised that these boots are ten years old this month. I bought them in January of 1999 to take with me for a six month spell in the Slovak Republic. I used them there, walking in thick cold snow on pavements in the capital, Bratislava, and wore them on various trains travelling around Central Europe. They were too heavy to pack in my bag, so they had to be worn.
Then they went into hibernation for a while. They just had little trips over the hills in Derbyshire. Occasionally they took some fresh air in rural Devon, or on a beach in Bournemouth.
Three years in Chicago gave them more snow to trudge through. It’s when the initial snow melts and it gets sludgy or icy that they come into their own. And yesterday, when the pavements were resembling sheet ice they were a lot safer than any other footwear. I had a few wobbles, but I got through the day unscathed, if a little cold-footed.
It’s quite nice to recall that my trusty boots have been with me through some pretty interesting travels. This month London, next month…
I don’t think you’ll be needing those where you’re going next month …!