Packing for Gap Year, Part 1.5: Shoes

He's got diamonds on the soles of his shoes.

Writing now, some six months into gap year, I’d like to comment on a major decision we made in packing. In part one of this series, I reviewed how we built a wardrobe for travel. In this post, I’d like to reflect on a particular component of one’s long-term clothing choices: footwear. 

In our original research, it became apparent that shoes were commonly the hardest choice for what to bring during extended travel. It makes sense why: footwear is a fundamental bottleneck on the activities one can partake in. Functional limitations are also further constrained by form: shoes will either complete or ruin an outfit. The last major challenge with footwear is that they consistently take up the most space in one’s bag. Shoes can make the difference between checking a bag or not, let alone getting away with one bag. There are no perfect shoe choices. What you wear is a matter of resolving ambiguity.

I promise that one of these days I’ll dive deep into the bag decision. For now, I’ll jump to the conclusion that Camille and I both decided to have a medium sized checked bag and backpack. This afforded us enough space to be able to bring not one, not two, but three (!!) pairs of shoes on gap year. As I wrote in the first post of this series, I brought Tevas sandals (for wet activities), a handsome pair of Lems barefoot shoes (for walking) and a classic pair of Blundstones for everything else (hiking, walking in rain, formal occasions, etc.). Over these first six months, this worked out great! But, a pattern emerged: I basically would only ever wear my Blundstones! 

I mean, I’d wear them everywhere. Going on a muddy hike? Blundstones. Taking Camille on a date to a fancy restaurant? Blundstones. Airport travel day? Blundstones. Taking a walk on a sandy beach with shorts on a hot day? Yes, even here, sometimes Blundstones. In fact, during many opportunities, I seriously considered sending my walking shoes back home to free up bag space. Camille insisted that walking shoes were important to have on hand. 

Now, I’d like you, dear reader, to time travel with me from last April – where our blog left off – to three weeks ago. Cam and I are traveling with Rei in Spain. We’re in Malága and I have a bad cold. In the middle of recovering from this bad, non-COVID cough, I notice that I walk with a limp. Every step on my right foot is a burst of pain. The ball of my foot under my right toe hurts. Camille points out with the amount of walking we’re doing, I could have a stress fracture. I could barely get around.

Over the last three weeks, I did what I could to manage my foot pain. I rested. I switched to my barefoot shoes. I remained bed ridden and spent all day icing my foot. I saw a doctor in Porto, Portugal who callously skimmed my x-rays, claimed I had gout, sent me home with painkillers, and then left for vacation. None of this really helped. Of course, early on into this process, Camille suggested a solution that I ignored, which ended up being the answer. I may have terrible foot pain, but Camille has just contracted I-told-you-so-itis – a incurable case, I’m afraid.

The private hospital in Porto was real fancy.

Yesterday, Cam and I spent our morning in an emergency room in East Berlin, Germany. We went first thing in the morning; I got a new x-ray and was seen by a doctor right away. After weeks of emailing and making phone calls – many of which happened during an international phone network outage – I finally received the health care that I needed. The solution to my foot pain? I was wearing the wrong pair of shoes.

German hospitals: no chandeliers.

Blundstones, as comfortable, fashionable, and all-purpose as they are, offer little-to-no cushion. Their sturdy rubber build sends force from the ground straight to my feet. For the amount of walking we do – right now, walking around is Cam and my full-time job – I need much, much more support. The pain in my right foot was in a classic pressure point location.

Yesterday afternoon, Cam and I went to the outdoor store dream: Globetrotter (I mean this place has a cafe, a corner bookstore, all the gear you could ever imagine, and a travel clinic). I bought the most cushioned shoes that I could find, a pair of olive green Ons. Even on the first five steps in these shoes, I felt the pain in my right foot subside. I was in shock. Camille was physically and emotionally punching my arm.

All this goes to say, when choosing shoes for travel, consider your foot health. I didn’t, and didn’t even have cursory knowledge of what to go for, save maybe conflicting internet opinions. I didn’t rotate what shoes that I wore, and suffered the consequences. Cam basically brought the same combination of shoes as me and hasn’t experienced any problems because she varied what she wore. At the very least, I recommend getting insoles for your Blundies.

Thanks for reading.

PS: Darn Tough socks for lyfe!