A few years ago, I found myself in South Korea with winter approaching and no proper closed shoes. All the women’s closed shoes I could find seemed to be 6-inch heels – not ideal for snowy winter. So, with some trepidation, I did something I’ve never done before and spent a large amount of money on a pair of trail boots. The prettiest little boots in all the world. I’ve never looked back.

These boots have become my everyday shoes. I wear them to work. I wear them for walking. I wear them when I’m in the field visiting rural homesteads and looking at goats. I even wear them when I’m shopping or out with friends. Not that I spend much time out with friends. In fact, work and goats occupy most of the hours of most days. Which makes the boots ideal. They’re comfortable, functional and suitable for all kinds of weather, work and mud.

My boots have become something of a part of an identity. They represent a certain kind of life and a certain set of choices. Sadly, boots don’t last forever, particularly if you’re wearing them every day. Thus began the Great Shoe Search. I knew what I wanted but most South African shops don’t sell Korean hiking boots, so the trick was going to be finding an acceptable alternative.

It turns out I’ve become something of a trail-shoe snob. I am very particular about the kind of way in which I want the shoes to feel on my feet. I’m also rather fussy about the style. These are going to be work shoes so I’d prefer to avoid the headache of having to find clothes to match shoes in neon orange and pink.

The search has taken rather a while. This is partly because I live, at least most of the time, in a part of the world without a lot of shops. I took the opportunity of a trip to the Western Cape to scour the Somerset Mall but failed to find anything I liked. Now, having moved to Johannesburg (temporarily), I was determined to find a new pair of shoes. This was becoming somewhat urgent as my current boots were really beginning to come apart at the seams, which is particularly problematic because I appeared not to have any other shoes. I’m sure I used to, but I seemed not to anymore.

Determination finally paid off. I spent a morning in a shopping centre, visiting everyone outdoor store and every shoe shop that might possibly sell boots. No joy. Finally, I gave up and caught the train to another centre, where I repeated the process. I was close to admitting defeat when finally I came across a store that I’d heard might carry the same brand of shoes as my Korean boots. I walked in the door and there, right in front of me, was a pair of boots I’d seen on the internet and decided might work. This particular “model” hadn’t been available in any of the other shoe shops I’d been to. Now, here it was – on sale. I searched for my size and hurried to try them on.

They’re perfect. The perfect replacements for my pretty little boots. They’re less inconspicuous – more clearly boots.  But that’s okay. Perhaps it’s a good thing. I start a new adventure on Monday morning and now I can do so with brand new boots. In the meantime, I’m setting off for a long walk on a beautiful autumn day in the leafy suburbs to wear in my new boots.