Made for Walking

Despite the fact that it's freezing outside, we walk almost everywhere. We take pictures of everything from the beautiful and historical to the mundane and strange (think: topless running man in London) and, on some occasions when we happen to pass by a field of untouched snow, I do what every mature 24 year old does and go running/frolicking into it. Why? Because it's fun, especially when that snow feels like fresh powder instead of slush or thin ice that you could slide on and die from.

We've been doing this since we got to Europe so it's easy for me to tell that something is wrong on this particular day as we walk around. For one, my toes feel wet and cold. I shrug this off since I figure I dunno, I have feet sweat or something. But then, I get the feeling that something is wedged to my heel. When I pull up my boot to look at it, I see that there's nothing on my heel...just a crack on the sole right across where snow and slush has been seeping in. Of course, I check the other side and lo and behold: I've got twin cracked boots.

Boo. Sadface.

I had to leave the poor things in Paris...along with some of the cheese that I couldn't bring myself to put in my bag for fear of everlasting stench.