The first proper book I ever read (or, to be honest, had read to me) was The Hobbit, and I spent most of my childhood (plus, to be honest, my adulthood) wanting to be one. As I wasn’t allowed to outside without footwear, the primary appeal (and, to be honest, the secondary and tertiary appeals) of being a Hobbit was living a lifestyle devoid of footwear.

Earlier this year, I took my first-ever trip to Aotearoa (New Zealand), and stepping – with actual shoes – into Hobbiton was a life-altering experience. This wasn’t like seeing the outside of Scottie’s house from Vertigo (a thoroughly random example that just happens to accord with something I did in San Francisco a year earlier); this was immersive and expansive and real, the town seeming to go on forever, just like I imagined it. As close to a childhood fantasy world properly coming true before your eyes as is physically possible. Continue reading →