Chattanooga Choo Shoe

Pedro Garcia, again. I normally wear these with jeans, as they are a bit OTT. But a girl can never wear too much bling, can she? Part of shopping spree in Tallinn last autumn. Fell in love instantly, and could not leave shop without them. Shoes like these do not really go well with the Norwegian climate. I guess that is one of the reasons why galoshes are getting back into fashion. Shit. Does galoshes count as shoes? Blimey. I guess you should expect some future galosh posts then. No doubt.

Time for father-in-law's 60th birthday party. Flat shoes above are brought along in case I have to dance. If my own father's 60th this summer is something to go by, this party will be A BLAST. That party ended with the police stopping by to ask us to keep it down. Hilarious! Can you imagine a bunch of 60-year-olds doing the Macarena in a house in the middle of a farm field, and the cops turn up? Apparently they were just patrolling the area. We could not really figure out how any of the neighbors could complain - as they were all at the party - dancing. Ok. It was perhaps a bit loud. I guess I should have gotten the message when two crystal oil lamps on top of one of the loudspeakers exploded. Oops. Was not really my fault. It is my dad that has this insanely over-dimensioned sound system. I just brought the iPod. Not that I really needed to, with his record collection.

Anyway, time for big party up north. Husband's original home town. And we are taking the TRAIN. Slow, but convenient. I like the train. On my list of "things-to-do-before-I-die" (a list that strangely enough just grows the more I actually get to see of the world) are:

1) Orient Express from London via Venice to Istanbul ("Venice, yay! Istanbul, yay!")

2) ROVOS Rail, South Africa ("See the Great Five while sitting on your ass, drinking wine!")

3) The Trans-Siberean Railway ("Hm. Not quite sure what to do in Vladivostok, though.")

As you see, I prefer the good-old-train experience. I actually get quite queasy when I take one of these fast / modern trains. Motion sickness. So the TGV is not my thing. And the restaurant cart is no longer what it used to be. No white table cloth. No waiter. Fortunately, this can easily be solved by bringing you own "train picnic". I guess it is not really allowed, but as long as you behave and act very discreet about it, you should not get in trouble (I know this for a fact, as I have done my fair share of these). 

You need:

• Plenty of wine. Always at least one more bottle than you think.
• Wine opener
• Crisps (helps fight motion sickness)
• Mouth-watering finger food (I prefer Pata Negra and fresh olives)
• Lots of smelly cheese (this way you can pretend that the foul smell that spreads throughout the train after about half an hour is coming from the cheese and not from the other passengers taking their shoes off...)
• Good company
• Patience
• A deck of cards

It might not be the Orient Express, but it works.