By: Blonde One
I like shoes! I’m no Imelda Marcos but I do have a good selection at home. Planning the recent trip to deepest, darkest Norway required a little more shoe thought than a normal holiday. We definitely needed walking boots as they were the most grippy. We also needed normal shoes for evenings in the hotel. I also took with me some beautiful knee length North Face snow boots. They kept my toes warm (quite a tricky task in -15° temperatures) and they stopped me from going flying on icy paths. I don’t think they will get used much here in Devon, but they will remain in the Blonde One boot cupboard just in case. Walking in Norway generally is more tricky than walking at home and shoe thought needs to be taken seriously.
Luckily for the Blonde One family there is a very handy pair of special shoes for getting around on the proper snow. We went on a snowshoeing expedition and it was excellent. These Norwegians certainly know a thing or two about snow travel! We spent a very cold afternoon snowshoeing on a frozen lake (scary) and the foot of the mountains on the island of Kvaloya. The lake’s ice surface was between 3 and 5 metres thick so we were quite safe but it was still a bit nerve-wracking to think what was beneath us. We got the hang of operating the snowshoes quite quickly and were soon gliding like swans across the lake (well Little Miss Blonde and Numbers were gliding, I’m not so sure about the older Blonde One pair). It was hard work and worked the leg muscles well, but we ended the trip with a hot chocolate, ginger biscuit and huge smiles! I would love to do it again, but I’m guessing that Dartmoor’s Crazy Well Pool or Venford Reservoir will never get cold enough to get to even one metre thick ice, never mind 5!
Wonder if they have snowshoes big enough for me? It looks such fun. If you don’t mind, I’d rather the ice didn’t get to be a metre thick on the reservoirs; I wouldn’t be able to open the back door to go and feed the birds. Brrrrrrrrrr!
The arms should be bent (inner angle 140 deg) the right one closer to the body, the fingers lightly clenched for warmth, the legs less straight up and down (you look too tentative). What the Hell does he know? you ask. As my Grannie used to say: A cat may look at a king.