I haven't worn these boots for a while, but they were fairly well broken in--or, broken--during a semester in Italy six years ago. Purchased in Venice after the heel separated from a previous pair, these tramped all over that country and beyond.
This also reminds me of when my grandmother died, four years ago. It was the first experience with death for my cousin's very young son, who had, incidentally, just learned to tie his shoes. His parents were trying to explain to him that grandma wouldn't be tying her shoes anymore. He looked blank for a moment, brightened and asked, "Grandma wear boots?"
Gear: Nikon D90, Nikkor AF 60mm f/2.8 micro, Nikon SB-600