You were born in May 2016. Your maiden voyage was along the River Derwent from Grange to Rosthwaite where you enjoyed your first of many cake and cuppa stops, and the first of many visits to the Lake District. Your first mountain was Kinder Scout. Your first trip “abroad” was in the Scottish Highlands where you scampered happily up the Pap of Glencoe in the rain. You coped with more rain in Wales (twice) – once when you eyed up Snowdon from the top of Moel Eilio and the second time when you eyed up Moel Eilio from the flanks of the hill on the other side of Llyn Padarn in truly filthy weather. You’ve walked under and over the Humber Bridge. You’ve bounced through heather up on the North Yorkshire Moors. You’ve slipped and slithered on the chalky shores of Flamborough Head. You’ve rollercoastered along the coastal cliff tops. You’ve coped admirably with sand, salt water, bog, gooey clay, stream crossings, steep hills, flat hills, grassy hills, stony hills. You’ve climbed the occasional locked gate. You’ve walked where you shouldn’t have done on some interesting diversions (naughty shoes!). You’ve romped along the rolling countryside of Norfolk, Rutland and Shropshire. You’ve roamed the Yorkshire Dales in a blizzard. In between all of these adventures, you’ve wandered far and wide around the Yorkshire Wolds, startling deer and bunny rabbits, getting up close and personal with the flora and fauna. You’ve coped fantastically with all weather conditions, from torrential downpours, blizzards and snow, to scorching hot sunshine. All you asked in return was a swill down with the hosepipe and a squirt of waterproofing stuff every now and again.
But now, sadly, your soles are worn flat, your stitching has come unravelled, necessitating a gorilla glue repair, and your structural integrity has failed. Despite that, you’re still waterproof and, with new gel insoles, you’re still good for shorter local walks.
We’ve shared many happy Mellie-Mooches together and you’ve been totally brilliant for my Achilles tendon problem – but, you’ve covered a lot of miles and I think I’ve worked you hard enough.
So, my beloved Meindl shoes, I’m deeply distressed to have to put you into semi-retirement, pending replacement tootsie-covers.
God bless your soles.
