In my 20s, I edited a lifestyle magazine in Hong Kong. I judged fashion shows, interviewed big stars and indie bands, had a bob and bangs, and hosted cool rooftop parties. I would not step outside my door without thick black eye makeup.

Ten years later and I’m sitting here in Pamplona wearing socks and new, super functional stretchy waterproof hiking sandals, in an ‘Amazon’s finest’ quick-drying breathable trekking shirt. One side of my bare face is still reinflating after the best siesta in the world.

I like to think the cool girl has still been lying dormant in me. But I am pretty sure I felt her scream, slam the door and throw away the keys the moment I slid these bad boys on: