Travel Tales Part I - Footwear is Always on My Mind

Footwear has been on my mind a lot lately. Actually, footwear has been on my mind for most of my life, because, you guessed it – I come by my obsession honestly - my dad was a shoemaker. Not just any old shoemaker, but a real old-world craftsman. He taught me all the finer points of selecting the appropriate shoe – everything from assessing and choosing just the right type of leather, soft and supple, to ensuring that every boot, shoe or sandal had exactly the right amount of properly engineered arch-support.

Now footwear only figures into this particular story in one way: I had spent several months stressing over how to fit the various sandals and flip-flops that are required for a two-island Caribbean holiday into my carry-on luggage. My allotment of travel “necessities” should have included at least one pair of high, Italian (of course, what else!?) cork and patent-leather strappy wedge slip-ons that I could hardly walk in, but that would have been just perfect to wear to a casino or a romantic dinner. Did I mention that I don’t gamble or that I was, in fact traveling solo? What romantic dinner? A middle-aged flight of fancy. I can dream, can’t I?

I had planned a two-island adventure that involved transferring half-way through my vacation using the only Caribbean regional air-line left after many mergers and bankruptcies, consisting of a small fleet of Dash-8 airplanes and possibly, even smaller propeller planes that look no bigger than toys. This was new territory for me and I had been warned by friends and had also learned through extensive internet research that packing a normal suitcase that could then be checked in with the airline like regular luggage, was not a possibility. This airline is notorious for loosing luggage, so I was much better off packing as few items as possible into a carry-on bag. The total weight that I was allowed for carry-on was 15 pounds. Try as I might, to fit as many shoes as possible into my shoulder bag, because I had packed about two dozen t-shirts into my carry-on duffel bag, I had grudgingly left behind my best shoes, and focused instead on squeezing into said duffel bag as many pairs of color-coordinated-to-the-outfit (and to the bathing suit) flip-flops as the bathroom scale allowed.

OK, now I was ready, packed and set to go. I made to island number one, St. Kitts, otherwise known as Jilly's second-home (in my dreams), but footwear was still on my mind because when I left the my beloved second home, I had to leave a pair of flip-flops behind. I had also lost my winter jacket somewhere along the way, but this didn’t bother me as much, even though it was mid-November and it would be dreadfully cold when I would eventually return to Toronto. The Farmers Almanac, which occupies my thoughts almost as much as footwear, was predicting an early and brutal winter. No, this didn’t bother me one smidge, but giving up my green Old Navy flip-flops was breaking my heart, because somehow, without making any purchases, my clothes had gained weight and I dared not go overweight on my duffel bag or I would risk having to check the bag as, gasp, luggage … and who knows where it would end up? What would I do in Grenada, where I knew no one, without my best sandals to complete my outfits! So, I packed my bags and pouted all the way to the Robert Llewellyn International Airport in Basseterre, St. Kitts, known in “airportese” as SKB, for the next part of my adventure for my flight to Grenada, an island I had never visited before.