My Poor Aching Feet

Me being me, I gave everybody advice on what kind of shoes to bring on the trip: no lace-ups. I learned last year you have to take them off constantly, so slip-ons are best. Comfortable walking shoes were a necessity, because we would be doing lots of walking.

I had my toes done. I brought my Crocs, which are the shoes I wear everyday and walk in happily. I was totally ready.

Within 24 hours of setting foot in Japan my feet were in pain: blisters, a new callous, the works. I think it was the humidity, which I'd heard about but (being a SoCal girl) never experienced on this level before.

I bought band-aids. I taped my little toe. I soaked my feet in lovely hot Japanese baths. I stopped feeling superior.

I started paying attention to what other people were wearing and whether they were complaining about their feet and whether they were hobbling.

The other two ladies on the trip were wearing Keens. They were smiling and hiking up and down hills, walking through rivers. One of them was my daughter, who told me on several occasions that she was glad she hadn't brought the Crocs I'd advised.

I was glad about that too. One of the problems of giving advice is that it helps to be right. In this case, I clearly wasn't.

Half-way through our time in Kyoto I faced the painful truth. I wasn't going to make it to the other end of the trip unless I did something about my feet. So, I hit the 'net (which was 100 yen for 20 minutes in the lobby of our ryokan) and found a Japanese store that carried these shoes. The next morning I embarked on my own and arrived at Takashimaya's flagship store in time for the opening ceremonies. A woman in a blue suit and white gloves recited a long, incomprehensible monologue while she artfully waved her hands for emphasis. Finally they opened and somehow I found the sports shoes area. That was good. I found a sales person who spoke some English. That was great. She took me to the men's department where they sell Keens. That was even better. I told her my size.

Everything would have been wonderful except that I forgot that I was in the men's department (women apparently don't wear Keens in Japan) and we were using US instead of European or Japanese sizing. Men's and women's US sizes are two sizes different. I did end up buying a half size down, but I left Takashimaya with some Rather Large Shoes. They were, however, so much more comfortable than what I'd been wearing it really didn't matter. (When I got back to the US I found out that even if I'd have gotten the size correct they would have been too wide since men's Keens are wider than women's.)

Yes, I know I should know what size my feet are, but I'm one of those people who can't really tell if their shoes fit until they've been walking for a bit. Even though the lovely sales lady had suggested I walk about in them that wasn't enough. It took me a full half-hour of traipsing around the Gion district of Kyoto before I realized I'd made a mistake. But my feet were happy for the next seven days, and that's what counts.

All for one, and one for all.