No matter how much I love them, I would not be caught dead with walking poles in the foothills of the Alps, let alone the hills of Britain, but today I saw a fellow walking merrily with them along Westbourne Grove in London. The bastard!

Addendum (January 30, 2017)

I love the walking poles, and I use them in my walks around Motovun as often as I can. My beloved has a pair, as well, and it is a joy to walk together with their help. But I make sure that we walk at a clip, which transforms the poles into our front legs. One walks from the stomach, like an animal. Feeling every step in one’s stomach muscles is an enlightening experience. Given my enthusiasm, it is amazing to see many a tourist in Istria using the walking poles. More often than not, they have no idea what to do with these contraptions. This is true especially of the elderly, but I do not remember ever seeing a tourist who knows what the poles are actually about. They just drag them behind. A pitiful sight, to be sure. One of the greatest inventions for walkers and climbers is rendered obsolete by the nincompoops.