Been there; done that. When I’m 90 with wild grey hair and hopefully all of my own teeth, I want to be able to say that – been there; done that. I want to say it with a wistful smile as my mind’s eye remembers all of the places, meals, friends, and wines I enjoyed. So, at fifty-something, I’ve got lots to do! Yes, I’ve traveled a little, eaten a lot, sipped wines, luxuriated in old friends and finding new ones, but, oh, so much more to do!
Two years ago in Italy, I realized that traveling ain’t for wooses. As the dearly missed Anthony Bourdain once said, “Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s OK. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind.” He was right. Sometimes climbing the 42 uneven steps up to my Florence Air BnB apartment lugging a ten- day wardrobe in a rolling carry-on exhausted me. My feet hurt, my arm hurt from pulling the case, and I really wanted a spa day. But, I knew if I spent the day at a spa, I’d miss tasting that Chianti in Tuscany, stalking George Clooney in Lake Como, or swimming in the Mediterranean off Cinque Terra. So I hurt, but I really thought about boarding the train back to the Milan airport in a wet bathing suit because I was unwilling to wash the sea off of me. My shower-or-two-a-day self might have worn Mediterranean sea-salt all the way back to Athens, GA. The experience changed me, and now I count pennies not for new home decor (well, maybe) or jeans that feel like butter on my skin, but for the next trip.
But travel requires good tools. One essential tool is a good pair of shoes. You don’t want to misstep while climbing aboard a Venetian gondola. So, when I got back from Italy, I talked to my doctor about my aching feet. She said, “Your arches are tired; they’re falling down. Chunk the flip-flops! No more flat shoes.” Though the thought of never wearing flip-flops again is nearly unbearable, I’ve found a new love. Birkenstocks. I know; I’m late to the party. I always wondered why people thought the clunky, Jesus-inspired sandals special or even worthy of wear, but heeding my doc’s advice, I looked into some shoes with good arch supports. And I found these:
Yes, I know, they look worn. When I first purchased, I thought, I cannot wear these things! The probing protrusions annoyed, and I had buyer’s remorse. But, I took a friend’s advice and wore them for 2,000 steps a day, religiously monitoring my fit-bit numbers. At the end of one week, I wore them all day every day. I take them off at night and place them by my bed so that I can slip back into them in the morning. They’re silver and kind of sparkly, so they go anywhere! I bought mine at The Big Store in Tifton, GA. The link to Birkenstock’s site is here.
If the current crisis (Covid) had not happened, my husband and I would be in Paris right now. On the morning we would have arrived, I woke feeling a little down, so I slipped on my Birkenstocks and headed down to fix breakfast. I wanted something special, to make me feel like I was on vacation, so out came the smoked salmon, bagels, cream cheese, and capers. Until we can put our passports to use, enjoy every day like it’s a new adventure!
Been there; done that. 