HAPPY FEET IN VERMONT
I ARRIVED IN VERMONT EAGER TO
experience the state’s famously abundant winter snowfall and was not disappointed. Driving north up Route 100, every pretty town I drove through appeared to be set within a snow globe. I was booked to stay in a wood cabin in the north, and the owner had promised to take me out sledding with his husky pack. When I turned up clad in my best winter-wear, my host Jim Blair laughed. ‘Are those the only shoes you have?’, he said, casting a critical eye over my leather Chelsea boots, which were already letting in icy water as I stood in five inches of fresh powder. He disappeared into the loft and returned with a pair of proper snow boots, which he insisted I keep. Exceptionally warm and waterproof, they kept my toes toasty for the rest of the trip. Jim wouldn’t take a penny for them, either, instead suggesting I make a donation to an animal charity, which of course I did. I still wear them on British snow days, and doing so always makes me think of my kindly benefactor and his husky entourage.