Denmark's Difficulties, Part II

While most of Copenhagen is lovely and wonderful and everything of the sort, there are some things I've found less than fun. This is part of an ongoing "list" of things that, as an American, I find hard about being abroad.

Shoes.

Who would have thought the words would come out of my mouth? Don't get me wrong, there are many, MANY pretty shoes here -

- It's just not the same when you know you have such giant feet (American size 10) that the stores don't carry shoes in that size. I'm basing this, of course, mostly on the shoe stores in Albertslund, because the Copenhagen stores are too classy to have out a lot of shoe sizes and I'm too self-conscious to ask. But yeah, the biggest size I've seen is a 41, hard enough to find in Denmark, according to one salesperson I talked to, but I am at least a 43 or 44. Thanks Mom!! (kidding)

Not to mention that, once you find shoes you like in your size, you also have to make sure the heel (or lack thereof) is pretty wide. Why? The streets here are all like this:
or worse!

I completely regret my shoe choices in coming here. I was thinking about packing bare essentials, which for some reason to me meant bringing only sneakers, flip flops and brown and black heels. Well, I don't know, it still seems reasonable enough. But my Roos are pink, and clash with a lot, and, well, flip flops are so not-European, don't have much traction and leave my toe-sies cold. Also, many bars won't let you in if you're wearing them.

Which leaves me with heels. It's really a pain in the ass to be walking along a crowded street when, oops, my shoe is still 3 feet behind me, stuck between the cobblestones. For some reason, my brown mules get caught less than my black kitten-heeled pumps, but, umm, what if I'm wearing a black shirt? Not to mention that the heels are far less comfortable than tennis shoes.

The other day I brought this up with a couple of girls, and they're big-feets, too! So we're all on the lookout now for monster-size shoe stores.