soft shoe shuffle.

I was on my way to my Spanish class on Tuesday, silently conjugating the verbs "to be" in my head.

 Unlike English, Espanol has two verbs for "to be". One is for more ongoing states, like being an Aussie. The other is for more transitory states, like being happy or visiting Madrid. "Soy Australiana" but "Estoy contenta" and "Estoy en Madrid".

Anyway I was deep in thought and didn't hear footsteps behind me. A woman's voice startled me. "Nice shoes aren't they?' she said as she passed by my right shoulder.

I glanced down at my new Nikes with the fluorescent trim. "Not bad," I replied.

My gaze shifted to her feet. She wore the same style shoes, but hers were a muted blue colour.

"I like them because they are so soft" she said, plugging her earphone back in her ear and striding off while I continued to saunter along at a slower pace.

They ARE soft shoes. And light. That's why I bought them for my trip.

I see myself walking for hours along narrow cobbled streets, over marbled floors of museums and cathedrals, along winding country paths and up steep stone steps, worn hollow by centuries of foot traffic.

For all of this you need the right shoes... particularly if you are a 63 year old woman with the worst feet imaginable. As a child I wore built-up brown lace-ups [clod hoppers we called them] because I had fallen arches. I don't believe they were 'fallen". I don't think I ever had arches; which is why I came last in running races at sports day. My fragile self image was further damaged when I was 13 and a podiatrist told me that I had the worst feet he had ever seen.

Over the years, the list of foot problems has grown. Collapsed toes were caused by stuffing my broad feet into pointy- toed shoes. I don't know what caused the bunions which continue to grow and push out permanent little pouches in leather shoes.

The beauty of my new Nikes is that they are soft and wide at the front with no seams to put pressure on bunions, lots of room for collapsed toes to wriggle like excited pups, and snugly fitting heels so that blisters don't form on my ankles.

I no longer bare my feet in public. Surgery on an ingrown toe nail was the final nail in the coffin. No more strappy sandals or thongs for me.

 Have soft shoes, will travel!

where to begin?

This is my first blog. Ever.

I thought it would be a fun way to record and share stories and images from our upcoming trip to Europe.

Because Dave is a pétanque tragic I wanted to call it "have boules will travel," but he thought that was corny. We settled on Away With Words, deflecting attention from his passion to mine.

I love reading. Even bought an e-reader to take with me so that I wouldn't run out of reading material on planes, trains or buses, while waiting in airports or sitting on a sunny terrace with a glass of vino tinto.

As you can see from the previous sentence, after only three Spanish lessons "for fun and travel" I already have an amazing command of the language which will be invaluable in Madrid and Andalucia. "Busco une bar" will be very handy indeed.

Dave has some schoolboy French for our six weeks in Languedoc which he will need for playing pétanque with the locals. His favourite French word [after pétanque] is "fromage".

We both have a way with words!