Nina's Blog - Tuesday 12th August 2025

Wednesday 13th August 2025, 10:20

Yesterday was a bit of an odd day and I didn't get around to posting anything.

It started in a promising way with me heading for the Peak District where I was to meet a man at his home. When I checked how much charge I had in my car I realized that I would need to charge my car on the way and the nearest charger to his place is at the Tesla Service Centre in Stockport, Manchester. I had plenty of both time and charge to get there so I took the country route via Alderley Edge.

On the way I passed the Jodrell Bank Observatory. I parked the car not far away to see if I could get a picture but it was hidden by trees and buildings. The moment didn't pass without interest though and I made this entry (exactly twenty four hours ago) in the diary which I keep on my mobile for making notes when I am offline:

10:20

I was walking past the staff entrance to Jodrell bank when an unmarked black BMW 2 series with blue lights on stopped beside me and the uniformed young police woman wound the window down and asked if I was alright. I said yes I'm fine and she went on to say she was asking because I had no shoes on! I'm happy that she has my best interests at heart but really what is it about the north of England and feet.

I said I always go barefoot and she responded with a smile and some New Age guff about getting in touch with the Earth. It seems that it is hard for people, especially in the North of England, to accept that I am barefoot simply because I prefer it that way; everyone seems to want some big almost religious reason but I do it mostly because I dislike shoes, especially when it's hot.

I have a suspicion that she wasn't just passing by either because when she left me she didn't drive on down the road but instead drove into the Jodrell Bank complex and immediately turned around and went back the way she had come, so I wonder if someone had called the police to report the appearance of a barefoot CD?

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Craig82 · 41-45, M

I guess seeing people walking around in public, barefoot is still rare, and people assume something is wrong. People will happily talk with their friends, and post online about what they saw, but we don't go to the barefoot person, and get the facts first. I bet that the majority of people will have no idea about that lifestyle, and don't realise that it is simply a choice that you made.
A few years ago, I saw a barefoot walking group set up in our county, and this was a suprise when I saw it on social media. In a short time, there were probably 20-30 people or more who regularly took part.

ninalanyon · 61-69, T

@Craig82

but we don't go to the barefoot person

In this case stopping to speak to me would have been slightly difficult as the road was moderately busy and not wide enough for two lanes plus room for parked cars so it's understandable that no one apart from the police woman spoke to me.

But when I'm walking in town people do stop and speak. Some few say how pleased they are to see someone walking barefoot and they usually then ask if I am always barefoot. We usually have a conversation about when it's practical, usually they express a wish that they could be barefoot more often to which I normally reply that they should just go for it, generally that's the end of the conversation because they just can't shake off the feeling that they will be censured.

Then there are those who are genuinely curious and actually want to know why I do it and what it feels like. They usually say they are afraid of stepping on some glass or dog shit. I point out that usually you can see both of those long before you reach them and that they are not as common as they think and that dog shit washes off feet much easier than it washes off white trainers. A very few look as though they might give it a go, but most say their feet are too soft.

The next category ask the same question but the tone of voice makes it clear that they disapprove and that no argument of mine will budge them.

And lastly we have the drive by cowards who are usually men, and usually bigger and more muscular than me, who yell at me from a safe distance, often in a car or van, telling me either that I've forgotten my shoes or that I should put some on.