When traveling, always take flip flops. I live in Florida, where flip flops are a way of life, but on my recent trip to the beautiful country of Costa Rica, I didn’t.
A side note: A long time ago, flip flops were called thongs. I’m serious, they were, at least by some. “Always wear thongs in the shower, “ I told my son, after reading an advice column for the college-bound. (I hoped to prevent him from coming home with athlete’s foot–a reasonable mom thought.) In private, he and his sister considered my advice and found it hilarious. After a meeting of the minds, we decided that flip flops were not thongs. Thongs were thongs and ever shall be. However, I would like to point out if you google thongs, images of flip flops do come up, however, along with other images.
In Costa Rica, I had to walk on bare floors and shower with naked feet because I left my flip flops home. Sometimes I wore socks to bed, but only when it was really cold and I had to get up in the night. Bah. And then there were were the wet landings and river crossings. Flip flops would have solved the problem. Volcanic sand is sharp, and my poor feet became bloody from wearing wet water shoes to hike. So bloody, I ran out of Band-Aids.
My feet continued to be unhappy, a huge problem when you are on vacation. So here’s a second piece of advice: make damn sure your hiking/walking boots are comfortable. I read Cheryl Strayed’s wonderful book Wild, so I knew this. I repeat, I KNEW THIS. I also remember hiking the High Peeks of the Adirondacks when I was 15. I probably wore what passed for sneakers back in the day. All the other Girl Scouts had horrible blisters too, except for one exchange student from Norway who had actual hiking boots. To say we were envious is an understatement. Two weeks later when I came home, my mother would not let me in the house because my feet were so black and yellow from the tincture of benzoin we used to toughen our feet.
The light but expensive boots I bought were a bit snug, even though they were my size and I tried them on with hiking socks. I wore them around the house and yard before my trip as I thought I should. I bought not one but TWO stretching devices. I also brought stockings to wear under my actual hiking socks and a tube of Glide.
I purchased real hiking boots because I read a book called Lost City of the Monkey God by Douglas Preston. Consequently, because of it’s location in Central America, I envisioned Costa Rica as jungle where one might encounter the feared and dreadful Fer-de-lance, which featured prominently in Preston’s book.
Mere running shoes, in which I normally hike Florida, would not be enough to fend off this horrible snake, I reasoned. Also, I would be watching birds and things high up in trees. From past experience I knew that birders often step in or on things because they are not paying close attention to their feet. You know, like ant hills and bobcat poop. None of that happened, thankfully.
In summary, what have I learned from my travel foot woes?
Don’t believe or imagine the worst from everything you read about Central America.
If a shoe/boot feels tight, it remains tight.
Always take flip flops.
Thongs are best forgotten.
Fifty years ago, when I was 22, I was the editor of a group of weekly newspapers in Upstate New York. I wrote a column called Kaleidoscope. The following column, which is also about feet, is mine:
Floridawoman 