Ok, I have this thing with taking a photo of my feet in places. It started overseas one time.
Proud of my whereabouts, I played slave to the infamous hand-held, self-portrait one too many times. Consequently, all you could see of my travels was my greased up forehead and toothy grin and maybe another tourist in the background. Or a llama, if he was lucky.
So my feet. I feel that if I’m going to be pompous about my location, my shoes might tell a story of journey a little bit nicer than my oily face. Hence, the addiction to now snap wherever the bright pumas tend to wander.
And g has snagged the custom too.
Our recent trip up the east coast brought many seaside adventures- rocky walks, sandy beaches and thus, more snappy snaps with the handy i-thingy, you know whatchamacallit…
And no slimy, tired faces to reflect back on in five years. Thank gawd…
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