There have been a few problems in the foot department. My seemingly very comfy Salomon Slippers were, last weekend, not to put too fine a point on it, incredibly uncomfortable! At the coinciding point of the fold of the bellows tongue and one of the metal eyelet hooks I suffered from a fierce bit of pressure that just got worse and worse, no matter how I tied the boot or adjusted the tongue / sock combination. This made my right ankle very sore after only two moderate days of walking.
Not good. In fact no good at all with fourteen days of the TGO Challenge coming up.
I resorted to slipping on my comfy old pair of Scarpa Nepals, rescued from their hiding place in the downstairs loo (why on earth do I keep my boots in the loo? I don't know) to nip around the village delivering election leaflets. Just to get them back to the idea of a walk - it's been a while for the dears. But, No!
They seem to be a good full size too small! They squeeze and bunch up my tootsies! Have my plates suddenly taken on a new growth spurt? Now then; there could be one really good side effect to this sudden spurt of growth hormones, as everything is supposed to be in proportion to the size of your feet. I think that I was right at the back of the queue on that score when they were handed out... But no. A good look in the bathroom mirror suggests there has been no corresponding surge in growth on that front...
What to do?
So, it's lunch at Don Pasqualez in Cambridge, to strengthen and fortify my shopping genes and then I am straight off out to the outdoor emporia.
I find myself embarrassed: I have come home with some gurly plimsolls.
Lord Elpus is coming round with Miss Whiplash for a spot of lunch tomorrow. Hopefully by the end of the afternoon the ribbing may have subsided.