The kids, as they do, had been doing my head in on long journeys. In my youth I sat patiently for hours upon end, taking in the scenery and chatting with my parents. This generation is lost without electrical input, it appears; they are like irritating gadgets, always needing a charge, and I can’t be arsed, it is true, to talk for the entire journey (maybe it is evidence of the change in my generation as much as theirs). So I gave in, I bought a portable DVD player, and now have to listen to the soundtrack of Shrek 3 for the whole trip….
Now I am always desperate for some sun and sand, this year the weather has been so dire that a late summer holiday is looking like a necessity.
The school holidays are almost over and I have been looking for a last minute holiday booking. As I am an experienced independent traveller I will happily just book some cheap flights and find a place to stay by myself once I am there.
Lookin, though online at some of the offers available I found many last minute holidays at the Holiday Hypermarket, many of these include self catered apartments and flights. I am wanting to get some Greek Sun on my shoulders, some sand between my toes and some soft rembetika music drifing over the murmuring of the waves on the beach…they have some fantastic deals….
.. All I have to do is to book the holiday, apply for a passport for my eldest and get a sick note so that I can take her out of school on holiday during termtime.
As a child I proudly strutted in my first pair of “Docs”. I was a proud as punch in them. The very fact that they were :”Oil, Fat, Acid and Alkali resistant” was indeed a great thing for any shoe. That these perfectly buffed leather shoes had air filled soles and were resistant to all but nuclear attack gave them a huge status in my cupboard.
At the time Doctor Martens boots were a fashion statement in the playground, associating yourself with the SKA movement of Selector and the Specials. they also mad you feel ‘hard’, a rather addictive sensation for a 10 year old as I recall.
Now, in life one has many various types of footwear and it is not always possible to remember them all. A few pairs. though, have burned themselves onto the diary of my life so that they seem to represent eras with great fondness. I remember, for example, my first trainers which had ruber soles which kind of curved up at both the heel and toe; the feeling of potency they gave me whilst playing football was incredible : the ball went further, I turned on a sixpence and I could even dribble… I remember in direct contrast to my Doctor Marten air safety wear my sandals, purchased in a Spanish Market, afforded my feet little or no protection but the soft and pungent Spanish leather pleased me immensely.
My fascination with large and clunky boots continued for many years. I am rather embarassed to admit to wearing Timberland Safety Boots for a few years whilst at college. A rock climbing accident whilst wearing Caterpillar Safety Boots convinced me that safety shoes had a place, and that was on a construction site or place of potential hazard.
For the next few years I wore Spartan Sandals, purchased in the Athenian Flea Market at Monastiraki, sometime going barefoot through the dusty streets, my feet were able to breathe and sing, though they became blackened and calloused and indeed did not recover until my feet had spent a few days wandering ( and being beautfully buffed ) along the volcanic beaches of Perissa in Santorini. Soon my zorbaesque days had to come to an end and I returned to the shores of England. In this shark infested, heavily populated and severly congested area my foot protection became of utmost importance so I donned my online searching cap and located some flip horroshow kickboots online – some original, steel toecapped, oi, Doctor Martens Safety Boots