Barefoot

For a long time, I practiced walking barefoot. So, when I was in Rome, I realized how much we miss out on by separating our skin from the ground with rubber soles.

Rome was special because the ancient city's streets are made from different materials. Walking barefoot around the old town felt like heaven for my feet—cold marble, burning stones, warm sand, refreshing grass, and so on.

It’s not about being a hippie. For me, traveling is always about experience, but not in the cliché sense of doing all the touristy things. It’s about experiencing the world by seeing it, hearing it, smelling it, tasting it, and, of course, touching it. The point is, when I’m not barefoot, I hardly touch anything, or I choose what to touch. Walking barefoot allows me to be present and experience a place as it truly is, collecting memories along the way.

So, while I was in Italy, even though I was living fully in the moment—astonished by the architecture and the magic of the city—the marble, stones, sand, and grass unconsciously brought back all sorts of memories. Memories that only my feet remember.

Rome, 2016