It had been a while since I had last been to Scotland. My only visit was a family trip to the Isle of Aaron over a decade ago. It was beautiful up there. I think that was also the first time I saw a Morrisons.

Edinburgh had been on my list for quite some time, a place I knew little of save for a few passing conversations. My family had recently been up with my auntie and cousin from Peru, shouting its praises thanks to set of beautiful buildings and ‘quirky’ coffee coasters my mum had brought back. The latter of which I must confess to have been enjoying these past few months.

Knowing that most of the UK would be covered in rainfall on my birthday, I bit the bullet and yolo-ed it up to Edinburgh. The pigeons at Manchester Piccadilly seemed increasingly interested in my Song For The Mute x adidas Superstars, fooling the avian creatures with the toast-inspired colourway. I felt bad. I also felt like the pigeon lady from Home Alone 2 (she was kind of a baddie in her own recluse way).

Three hours later and I was in sunny Edinburgh. It really is amazing how small the UK is, a detail easily forgotten thanks to the stagnant wages and Political narratives. We are in far more connected than we know. Namaste.

Walking into the old town, a gentleman playing the bagpipes instantly struck a nerve. A feeling of loss and a deep sense of belonging suddenly passed over me. In those few seconds, I understood why millions of men had died fighting for this country, a feeling that even the sweet taste of Irn Bru had previously failed to conjure.

After dropping off my items at the hostel, I went for a wander. My sense of random exploration had been stronger than ever after my trip to Italy (story soon come), so traversing the cobbled steps of the city seemed all too familiar.

I stumbled across an interesting book shop where I skimmed a book detailing the local history of Yorkshire. I came across the word “cordwainers”, a word I had only recently discovered a few days before thanks to the @worshipfulcordwainers account. A Cordwainer is a particular type of shoemaker who exclusively makes shoes from cordovan leather, which comes from Cordova.

Another book featured this footprint-based prank, leaving beachgoers in Portugal scratching their heads. I am always down for footwear-based humour.

All this exploration had stirred up a sense of hunger, so I found a five-star rated Pizza van around the corner and parked myself on a patch of grass in The Meadows. I also took some snaps of my aforementioned Superstars here, a sign the trip was going well.

A quick shower later and I found a last-minute jazz night going on around the corner. A kind Korean lady called Lucy let me take a seat next to her where we spoke about London. We didn’t manage to speak about shoes. Her partner eventually arrived and we spoke about bachata lessons. I wonder what the best shoes to salsa in are. I once wrote an article about breakdancing shoes, but I have never considered salsa footwear. I bet it’s red and sparkly, like the Latino version of Dorothy’s slippers. I could fuck with that, minus the gingham dress. I would be down for gingham socks though. In fact, you could sign me up for a couple of pairs right now.

I ended up staying until the jazz finished. My favourite track they covered was Lament by J.J Johnson. I didn’t see what the five piece had on feet. I imagine their taste in footwear was jazzy (insert crazy tongue out emoji here).

I woke up the next day in my pod-based cabin feeling a year older (literally and figuratively). I headed out hoping to come across some abandoned shoes. FYI nowhere in Edinburgh do birthday discounts btw. A real shame. After a fry-up up I found myself passing through the National Galleries of Scotland. I quickly realised I didn’t fancy spending my day of birth taking in too much history so the visit was swift (hold the Taylor).

It was here that I came across Anne Redpath’s The Indian Rug (or Red Slippers). This was the only footwear-based painting I spotted. Those slippers would make great salsa dancing shoes.

Stepping out the gallery I felt an overwhelming sense of tiredness as I recalled how exhausted I was post my trip to Italy. Copious amounts of espresso and history was a beautifully powerful combination. Yet not one I was looking to repeat on this rainy day.

I then wandered into a retro football shirt shop (lads, lads, lads) and spotted a beautiful Paraguayan Puma shirt from the ‘90s. Had it not been for the £80 price tag, you might have caught me knee sliding up and down the Northern Quarter. Opting for another favourite of mine in the Anelka butterfly celebration would be undoubtedly more practical for the concrete terrain around NQ.

I did spot this cool adidas print advert in an old footy programme. Stern looks, slicked back wigs and leather boots – reckon these two could have really pioneered the #bootsonlysummer movement had they been born in this day and age. Although they would have likely veered towards splitting the G rather than monetising their social media following. As UK artist Headie One had previously voiced, these guys certainly could have been “doing up both”.

Soon after, I finally came across my first pair of ‘abandoned shoes’ in the form of some hotel slippers. Now, unlike a lot of discarded footwear, the client base for hotel slippers is stereotypically a more refined one. Unlikely to be a resident crack head, the slippers would soon come into the possession of one of Edinburgh’s finest tweakers. Appearing to be doing an impression of a pavement-proficient Hugh Hefner, said crackhead would then only be missing a pipe and expensive silk robe to complete the look.

My footsteps then took me into a local Clarks where I managed to stop myself from purchasing a dark green pair of Wallabees. Instead, and as a wonderful testament to my ageing feet, I purchased a pair of supportive insoles. I hadn’t purchased any in donkey’s years, somewhat hesitant of their claims to foot health. I was and still am a believer in building strong feet.

In that moment, the feeling of a new set insoles was more sensible than buying some new £200 leather hiking boots, although that small Italian flag tab poking out from the ankle collar would look real ace right about now. The gentleman also gave me the lowdown on why each hiking boot catered to different people. Also, did you know that it costs about two hundred thousand dollars to climb Mount Everest! Who knew.

A few hours of wandering later and I was in the quaint streets of Stockbridge. The many charity shops had me feeling like a 2022 version of myself, scouring the bookshelves for any fun shoe-based prints and information. A £4 copy of The Design Museum’s Designing the Beautiful Game tickled my fancy, but I managed to refrain. Clearly I had grown wise in my old age. Slay?

I then came across The Complete Guide To Stretching with the lady on the cover mid-pose. Rocking a pair of what I originally suspected were Air Span IIs, a little search revealed she was in fact wearing a pair of Air Icarus in the “Grape” make-up.

Interestingly enough, I came across a similar pair minutes later skimming through this 1000 Album Covers book with the curator Michael Och laced up in a black and olive version of the Air Icarus. Paired with the a light acid wash denim, his fit was typically ‘90s. Definitely a look you could have found me in during my time as a stocky in Manny. Maybe minus the black leather jacket and spectacles. His hair was hair-ing as the youth say!

I also spotted an album cover from the Red Hot Chilli Peppers Abbey Road EP that I hadn’t seen before. Apart from the fact that they are obviously naked, the band member at the front, who looks to be lead guitarist John Frusciante has got on a pair of New Balances. Now in the hall of famous New Balance adorned photos, it is no surprise that this album cover image doesn’t feature. From what I can make out, it looks like a pair of New Balance 475s from the angle of his front foot. Given the size of the “N” logo and heel cradle at the rear. However, they could just as easily be a pair of NB 576s or 574s.

Another fun find was this fashion book solely focused on Madonna. We forget how much of a style icon she was back in her heyday. Knowing she frequently features on the Instagram account @trainer.spotting, I knew flicking through the book would guarantee finding a heavy set of webs.

This proved true as a photo collage revealed Madonna wearing white and black Nike Air Rifts, as well as the recently retro-ed Nike Air Max Craze. Having said that, I don’t think the triple white colourway has dropped in 2025 just yet.

Also look at this cool drawing of these blue Tassel Loafers.

It was on the evening of my birthday that I finally came across a solid abandoned footwear find. Similar to the many cases I found in Napoli, this pair of Footjoy Golf shoes were parked up next to a bin. Annoyingly I noticed these during my birthday ice cream so grabbing the shot provided more difficult than usual as I balanced my double scoop in the other hand. I will say that the Kiwi sorbet tasted a whole lot more fulfilling after that find.

Later on during my evening stroll I noticed a number of shoe plant pots. This person clearly had an affinity for both plants and recycling as their porch was decked out with a whole slew of them #sustainablequeen/king. My favourite of the bunch was obviously the adidas Rekords in the corner. Long had I thought about using my old sneakers as plant pots, so seeing this played out my ideas into reality (this idea was pre sneaker plants fyi). You will soon be able to purchase a similar style of shoe pots from my Etsy account (big things soon come).

I would have loved to speak to the owner of the house, but knocking on their door at near-midnight would not have faired well in terms of a friendly interaction. Now I think about it I could have posted a slip through the door asking them to send me a reply via email but I think that would constitute as ‘doing too much’, or perhaps harassment… it’s a fine line.

The next day provided less footwear-based thrills. This was mainly due to the fact that I was relatively pooped by that point. A quick tram journey down Leith walk informed me of this oddly named tram stop. Bar that the Sunday was quiet.

Shivering my way back to Manchester thanks to a heavily air-conditioned train cabin made the journey all the longer. Planting my tooties back in Manny, I realised how vibrant Cottonopolis actually was. This could have been due to Park Life taking place up the road, so the amount of Nike Miller Ts and Under Armour shorts were out doing the rounds.

As the double espresso now begins to wear out, I will say that I would love to return to Scotland again. Next time I’ll put a heavier focus on highland cows, regardless of the fact that they don’t wear shoes.