I want to talk shoes. I know, its not one of my normal obsessions, passions nor moans. Shoes are just… shoes. Sorry, Imelda, and sorry, Mel, I’ve never bought into that particular obsession. Until… the sandal scandal of 2021!!

I was in Greece, by a pool, wearing flip-flops. No problem. Walked round to the supermarket for ‘supplies’, 500 yards away, limped back on bleeding feet. Hobbled. Crippled. By my own flip-flops. A Julius Caesar moment. Though I’d worn for them for years. So I bought a new pair. Ahhhh, that’s better. Right. And they were. For absolutely everything. Up to 14 yards. Then more foot-fuckage. Ahhhh. Or Agggghhhhh, as it was quite painful.

So I can’t wear flip-flops, but I can survive, I’m in England most of my life where its not an issue. But for those other times, those beach-pooly times, when I can’t be wearing trainers, Doc Martins, ballet shoes. So I bought some ‘sliders’. No horrible post between my toes, no hard straps digging in, just one, soft strap across the front. And they were lovely. So I set off for the beach. And managed to get more than 93 metres before the blood flowed. Walked home barefoot. In pain.

And then I saw ‘the light’. The solution. The answer to one of life’s biggest questions: WHAT CAN I WEAR ON MY FUCKING FEET IN THE SUNSHINE WHICH WON’T LEAVE ME IN PAIN AND SUFFERING, FFS????

It was these. My mate had a pair and told me of their wonder. Wear these and you can walk on water. Possibly just ‘in water’, but same difference. You can dance like Fonteyn, play football like Pele, run like Mo Farrah and, most importantly, walk more than 100 yards without lacerated feet. It is the modern day miracle. The feeding of the 5000, the burning bush, Andy’s new strange-looking biblical type sandals. Jesus would have worn similar, I’m sure. Not with socks, I’m building up to that.

Israel is hot. Really, really, too-hot-for-normal-shoes hot. And wonderful.

Yom Tov

A xxxx