Not so remote after all ...

It is rarely that I go overboard about a pair of sandals, and even more rare to find me enthusing about the delivery of same, as I am more likely to be found girning about the discrimination practised by mail-order companies against people who live in Cowal. I've moaned online about this before, when I was to be charged £20 postage to have a pair of cufflinks delivered to Dunoon because it was in a "remote area" - an hour from Glasgow, mind.

But I digress. The nice pink sandals in the photo were my faithful companions on the recent trip to Barcelona, and though I'd had them for less that a week before I travelled, they were the last word in comfort on hot city streets and cool holy mountains in the rain. They were recommended by a pal with the same size of feet as I have, so I knew what size to order - they worked from the word go. (Keen, size 6 - see them here)

The most wondrous bit of this story, however, is the firm that delivered them, webtogs. Having ordered the sandals at 10.45pm on a Tuesday, I thought I'd be lucky to see them the following Monday - and I was off on holiday the next day. After all, I thought, it's Dunoon. We're remote. I was so wrong: the sandals came at lunchtime on the Thursday, less than 48 hours after I'd clicked on "buy". All beautifully parcelled, delivery free, with a 60 day free returns option. It wasn't a fluke either - I've just taken delivery of a pair of walking boots, two days after ordering them. I've also booked the walking holiday to go with them, but that's another story - meanwhile, I shall give them rigorous testing on the stairs to make sure they're just what I want.

A good story, on a wet day.

Boot camp

I made an alarming discovery today. I think there is only one make of walking boot in the western world which fits me. Living in the boondocks as I do, and having a tendency to walk in all weather and preferably off-road, I wear my walking boots probably every day – unless, as today, I go to Glasgow and spend money. And part of the expenditure – the biggest single item – was a pair of Brasher Hillmaster boots. Ladies’ boots. I bought the same model of boot four years ago, and they have now turned up their toes, so so speak, and died. The soles are thin and the tread worn, but worse than that is the fact that the uppers are cracked across the middle, so that if it rains (I know this doesn’t happen often here – huh) I have wet feet without walking through a burn or sinking into mud.

Anyway, off I went to Tiso’s in Glasgow. The shop was quiet and the young man who served me attentive, so I tried on several other boots which he thought might meet my needs. All the same size (a whole size bigger than normal) and supposedly the same spec. And they were all excruciating – too tight, too stiff – you name it. I felt like Goldilocks. And so it was that I bought the same boot as last time. Only this time it’s got a Goretex lining, so presumably will be even better.

But right now, I’m going to mourn the old ones. RIP.