Where are you taking your dear Birkenstocks today? Are we going back to that ancient little town in the Azores where we climbed up and down the rocky paths with one side to the mountains and the other to the sea? I remember that June day was a hot one, and the black volcanic stones were scorching. Your feet grew calloused, and your burned toes may never be the same. Remember, it was your choice to wear me because you always need to feel the earth close to your feet. Point me towards any adventure, and I will humbly acquiesce.