My boots were made for walking, but how much further can they take me?

In the latest of his reflections on places and pathways, Will Gore considers the prospect of being parted from his favourite footwear

Two decades on, the much-loved boots are coming towards the end (Getty/iStock)

Shoes are surprisingly memorable things. A poorly-fitting pair can be so painful that the memory is burnt into our souls, and soles. A comfortable shoe makes walking so pleasurable that you never want to take it off.

As a young child I had particular love for my blue sandals. And at the age of seven I had the coolest grey trainers with a single, wide Velcro strap. They had a very close tread, and I remember my distress when once I stepped in some dog crap that was almost impossible to clean off.

In my early teens I had several successive pairs of a light brown, nubuck number, branded “Trucker”. I thought they were the best, especially when worn with slightly baggy jeans. My friends took the piss, but it didn’t stop me buying them again and again.