Smell My Feet

Upon travelling to Portsmouth(no not Oregon) again today, we went up Spinnaker Tower, and looked out on the partially glass floor in the lowest observation deck before going up the next two levels. It was a rare sunny and 70 degrees so we lunched outside at a place called Zizzi's, then walked around the shops in the outdoor plaza. 

Being in the shoe market for a pair of nice flats, my Inner Shopping Radar found a shiny gold-detailed mauve pair that were gorgeous; however, ignorance is no excuse from the law, and not knowing one's UK size makes it difficult to try anything on. After several minutes of comparing apparent foot sizes with strangers and an in depth psychological deliberation of the difference between UK and US sizes with a confused sales girl, the assistant took off her own shoe and insisted I try it on, finding that my feet fit somewhere around a size seven. Although resourceful, her efforts were in vain as Ted Baker didn't have a size seven in shiny mauve, only in a lackluster orangey-red pair that could make CoCo Chanel look as though she had borrowed granny's last season orthopedic insoles. 

Fancy a dive off Spinnaker? Frustrated by shoe shopping I decided to go shoe-less. Unfortunately I now need new socks.

We played a little game of Battleship while we were there.

Harbor.

Oregon? No.