the 24th day of October 2025
was the end of an era
for a pair of shoes with a story
from ice cold to melting hot
and everything in-between
my beloved X Ultra 3 Mid boots
were bought in June 2021
for 250€ in Reykjavik, Iceland
with the limited savings i had
from volunteering with an income
of 200€ per month for the past five
and a generous donation for a cause
by our 6 wonderful volunteers
from most corners of the world
who witnessed me wearing
trash bags inside of my previous boots
the international investment
allowed me to visit an active volcano 4 more times
and cook the promised marshmallows
were my winter boots for the mushy
Icelandic winter i took my steps to muay thai in
they took me to explore the Azores
got soaked in a tropical rainstorm
survived, unlike my smartphone
and summited mt Pico the day after
they travelled to Brazil’s largest cities
explored the Atlantic rainforest
the caves and its rivers underneath
couldn’t keep them out of the water
as I was in it up to my neck
they have never been waterproof
neither before or after i swam in them
went on my very first hike in Norway
on 1st of May in snow up to my knees
they’ve been to Thailand, waiting
for me to finish a week of meditating
to hike from beach to beach
and to avoid stepping on rats
during that one night in Bangkok
followed me to Slovakia in April
covered in spikes so there’d be a chance
I made it to the cabin at 2000m
with snow over my knees, of course
touched the hot and hole-y land of Iceland
one more time in a snowstorm in May
on our way to a natural 40C shower
treaded along on my first ever
Camino de Santiago of 300 km
after which i promised
that now they would retire
but instead, as the good owner i was
i washed them, for once
took them to explore Tanzania
but they were only carried up
while i dragged my feet
up Kilimanjaro in my soldier boots
but hey, they’ve been there too
lately, i wore them with a long blue skirt
not the biggest crime in late fashion
it’s the Louvre heist but also
they were replaced by wool socks in sandals
too many items of clothing mentioned
had the boots on when i got kicked by a horse
and when i still galopped the next days
walked me through 350 more kilometres
along the Portuguese Interior route to Santiago
before my feet swelled up every day
by concussions from every step
as the cushioning disappeared at least in 2023
this is a love letter to boots
that didn’t hold up any promises
but were made for walkin’
i wouldn’t spray it with rose water
but with the stench my hostel roommates
had to endure in their last hours
may they finally rest in pieces
at terminal 2 of Madrid airport
with the epitaph An od(e)our to Salomon
and a note: another pair, pretty please?
A horse named Winnie (the Pooh) left her mark on me while I was wearing the boots and she was wearing her shoes.
Inspiratsiookean 