A Year of Walking Through London Barefoot: My Unconventional Experience | Life and Style

Intriguingly, my journey into barefoot living began around three years ago during a casual rendezvous with my son at a local park. He has always had a fondness for the outdoors, and on this occasion, I noticed that he had chosen to traverse the grass barefoot. Curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to join in the experiment. To my surprise, it was like uncovering an entirely new sense. The sensation of the earth beneath my feet was invigorating and pleasurable.

From that moment, I became determined to embrace this newfound discovery, not only limited to parks but in all aspects of my life. I am a person of extremes, an “all-or-nothing” kind of individual. My initial plan was to go without shoes from springtime until mid-October when the weather turned too cold. However, given the mild autumn we experienced last year, I relished the challenge of extending my barefoot journey.

The true test came in December when the snow arrived. To combat the cold, I applied Vaseline to my feet as a means of insulation, taking inspiration from the practices of cold-water swimmers. As long as I kept moving, my bare feet were adequately protected. Even during frosty days, I donned gloves and multiple layers but continued to forgo shoes, discovering that motion was the key to comfort.

Since March of last year, I have ventured barefoot in the bustling city of London every single day. Living amidst the urban landscape, I revel in the element of surprise that awaits me. Travelling barefoot on the underground was initially a novel experience, as I encountered a variety of surfaces, from corrugated escalators to smooth platforms and ridged circles before reaching the iconic “Mind the Gap” line. It feels as though I have entered an alternate dimension that most individuals never have the opportunity to explore.

My upbringing in Chobham, Surrey, and my career in the railways during the 1970s shaped my perspective. Having taken early retirement in 2009 with a secure pension, I now dedicate a significant portion of my time to community work. One such involvement led me to deliver pharmacy prescriptions across south-east London during the challenging times of the pandemic. I recall visiting a block of flats in Peckham Rye, where they had recently resurfaced the walkways. The sensation of walking barefoot on these surfaces was akin to traversing fine sandpaper, an incredibly delightful experience.

In retrospect, I believe that there is a profound connection between being outdoors, embracing barefoot living, and assisting others within the community. Personally, I have grappled with depression, having encountered three instances of attempted suicide. However, I discovered that immersing myself in nature and involving myself in community work significantly contributed to my recovery. I currently devote my time as a volunteer in a community garden located in Forest Hill and have also assisted in constructing a captivating guerrilla-style garden in Brockley.

To accommodate situations where wearing shoes becomes necessary, I have adopted the practice of carrying a pair of slippers with me at all times. Interestingly, Forest Hill library allows me to roam barefoot, while Lewisham library, despite being under the same council, adheres to “health and safety” regulations that disallow bare feet. Most independently-owned establishments welcome barefoot individuals, yet Wetherspoon’s remains an exception. The only instance where I succumb to wearing proper footwear is during my ventures to nightclubs such as Fabric in London, where security insistently upholds the policy. However, once the night concludes, the liberation of removing my shoes brings about a tingling sensation akin to walking on fire.

Conformity has never been my strong suit, which is evident in my penchant for vibrant attire. As a 64-year-old man, this already garners significant attention. Yet, the reactions become even more diverse when it comes to my bare feet. Some individuals understand and appreciate my lifestyle choice, while others approach the matter with less enthusiasm. The question I am most frequently asked is: “Where are your shoes?”

During the recent cold spell, four individuals generously offered me shoes within the span of a week. I calmly explain to them that being barefoot is a conscious decision that I have made as part of my way of life. Notably, the absence of shoes serves as a conversation starter, piquing curiosity and evoking opinions, even if some find my behavior strange.

Caring for my feet has become a vital aspect of my routine. While my soles have toughened over time, the skin still tends to crack. I am constantly experimenting with various methods of maintenance, including the use of TCP antiseptic, Sudocrem, and lard to prevent further damage. On one occasion, I encountered a painful injury from inadvertently stepping on a one-and-a-half-inch nail while gardening. Additionally, navigating challenging surfaces, such as a particular section of the South Bank in London, presents its own set of obstacles. Standing on it is excruciatingly painful, yet triumphing over it brings a satisfying sense of accomplishment.

Embracing barefoot living has had a profound impact on my overall well-being. The grounding sensation it provides is unparalleled, and I have yet to encounter anyone who fully comprehends the extraordinary experience it offers, particularly within the bustling confines of a city. I have no intention of returning to a life of footwear. This narrative, shared with Chiara Wilkinson, is a testament to the transformative power of embracing unconventional choices and finding solace in the extraordinary.

If you are experiencing emotional distress or mental health issues, Samaritans can offer support and can be contacted at freephone 116 123 in the UK and Ireland. You can also reach them via email at [email protected] or [email protected].

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