And here do I sit, with bandaged feet,
For as I walked did trouble I meet.
I set off with my camera early one morn’:
Indeed I set off for the rising sun.
The sky was pink, the water still black,
And soon I knew I couldn’t turn back.
Except in my mind, surely I thought,
That this is something that I rather ought,
Not do today, in brand new shoes.
But at the time, if you snooze, you lose.
So I kept on stepping farther away,
In brand new shoes on a brand new day.
My camera was clicking, my eyes were dazzled.
Surely by now, my feet would feel frazzled.
Sadly, my nerves didn’t react,
Quickly enough for me to turn back.
I walked another mile, perhaps even more,
I kept on stepping further towards,
Total destruction of my heels and toes,
An idiot I was, and this I now know.
Eventually, my feet did start to bleed.
And this warning did I finally heed,
And retreat like Napoleon in Russia’s winter,
But my bleeding feet did my progress hinder.
So as I pathetically limped back, as sad as could be,
I knew I was screwed for my entirety.
Alright, that’s dramatic, but you understand,
By being spontaneous and forming last minute plans,
And going on walks when one shouldn’t be walking,
Well, obviously, danger I was stalking.
So my feet are sadly covered in bandages now,
Hopefully gangrene doesn’t show up to say, “Wow!
I’ll gnaw on some dead flesh! Mmm looks so good!”
I think my feet are out of Infection Neighborhood.
They’re just ripe with blisters and painful as hell.
It’s my own silly fault, I must shrug oh well.
But I wish to bid adieu to my foolish ways,
And next time I go on a hike, perhaps I’ll be fazed,
By this tragedy of epic proportion,
And don proper footwear, a wonderful notion!
So, people, do not follow my lead.
Unless you desire for your feet to bleed,
Please, dear readers, really do heed,
My creed of begging your feet not to bleed,
So wear shoes that are comfy with cushion and bounce,
So that you can hike, step high, perhaps even flounce.
I wish you good luck in all of your fun!
Please wear good shoes next time, everyone!
I composed this poem after an almost successful attempt to walk to Gandria, a little Swiss village about 5 km away from Lugano’s downtown. I walked with my Olympus OM-20 and a couple rolls of film, in some new oxfords, without breaking them in one bit.
My feet were ripped to shreds, and I eventually took a bus back to Lugano after walking about 8 km with my feet raw and bleeding. Luckily, I think these photographs, all tinged with early morning blues and pinks, are worth it.