Travelling idioms

We have used a number of modes of transportation in our daily life in L’viv. Mostly, we walk. My blood pressure and waistline say, “Thank you!”

Walking in this city is a wonderful experience from the perspective of a newbie. The architecture is charming. The freshness of the fall air is wonderful to breathe. The people are active and fascinating.

This week L’viv held the annual Literary Festival, so the streets were even more lively than usual. But all day, every day, and especially in the evenings, L’viv’s streets are more than arteries within which to travel to and fro; they are the places to see and be seen. Friday nights and Sundays, especially, feature what I can only describe as a kind of pedestrian “cruising.” Ukrainian Graffiti doesn’t run on motors, but on foot.

I guess it should not come as a surprise, then, that shoes stores abound. The surprise, to me, is the height of the heels in the windows of these shoe stores. And on the feet of the slender,  long-limbed everyone’s-a-model female populace. Indeed, as Ukrainian Graffiti progresses on any given Sunday afternoon, for example, I am amazed I don’t see broken ankles every yard as four-inch stilletos meet the cobblestones.  After about the age of 16, the height of the heels is inversely proportionate to age. Pusher’s of baby carriages seem to favor shorter heels, and the mothers of more than one child wear flats. Thank goodness.

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