Gasps of horror.
I might actually have to wear socks in this country.
I thought being in Africa meant that it would always be warm and I would be longing to wear a loincloth of some sort, but I also thought that Mexico would be filled with poncho-clad guys in big sombreros sleeping by a cactus with a half-empty bottle of tequila, or that Paris would be filled with waif-like women wearing berets, with baguettes dangerously close to their armpits.
I am such a country bumpkin. I guess the weather serves me right, for entertaining Disney views of entire nations and cities.
Anyhoodles, not going to wear socks until my toes actually turn blue.