The idea came to me whilst walking, as most of them do. Not that they start as ideas: more like impulses or feelings. The conversion into words is a mysterious process, none more than yesterday.
My daily sojourn in Babylon Town, code name for where I work, begins to be less of an exile, more another place to feel at home. It was alien when I first arrived, as I wrote at the time. I’m glad I jot things down. These midday walks have lately become a necessity for health and sanity, a break from the incessant demands of MaxiRam,
my temporary employer. Once knights would ride on horseback, wealthy burghers in carriages, the common folk on foot. So let me travel as a pedestrian: not prosaically, as in “pedestrian prose”, but for the adventure.
It’s apparent that Babylon Town was planned, its highways and industrial estates determined on the drawing-board rather than evolving chaotically like most other towns in England. The planners clearly envisaged that the motor-car would be the residents’ main means of transport; the lorry, symbol of industry, would be the most respected. First they drew a grid of fast, efficient roads. But then, o bless them, they designed a network of cycle paths, weaving through specially designed underpasses, across hinterlands of grass.
But where do the people walk? Yesterday in the drizzle I stepped carefully on rain-sodden narrow grass verges, recently disturbed by molehills, and wandered at random till I discovered an underbelly of Babylon Town: a deserted park, lakes, managed wild-life habitats, crumbling steps, piazzas and walls of graffiti—which provide much-needed decoration in some desolate corners. I was glad to see evidence of everyday humanity, however scruffy, overlaying the tidy intellect of town planners, however well-meaning. The beauty of walking is that you can get almost everywhere.
Most of the “Keep Out” signs apply to motorists. What greater joy than to roam the earth on foot?
I immediately think of those denied this freedom, including my own self for more than ten years, till recently: those so disabled and rendered immobile that they need to be turned to prevent bedsores; those locked away in a culture where their parents must be ashamed of their deformities and handicaps. To be sad on their behalf won’t help them. I’ll walk joyfully and be mindful of all my brothers and sisters.
a wayfarer’s notes 
It's odd that “pedestrian” has two meanings: “travelling on foot” and “dull, plodding”.
“Equestrian” was the noble way to roam when the latter meaning was coined. Only peasants went about on foot. Then let me be a peasant!
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when i was in college…i used to walk 45 minutes to reach there after getting down at howrah station. that particular road is so choc-a-bloc that busses use to reach my college after 50 minutes. i used to reach before the busses.
but the most wonderful thing i discovered was that walking is sacred. you can relish the Almighty's creation only by walking.
and they say in india, you slow down, you miss something. you hurry…you miss all. fortunately i didn't miss much. thanks for the post Vincent. loved it.
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I spent 3 months working in Houston, Texas.
The whole area is designed to be traversed by motor vehicle and time is spent inside where air conditioning can make the climate tolerable.
I live in Marin County, California where outdoor activities, walking, biking and jogging are the norm.
So I walked during my time in Houston. The only others I met while walking were people who clearly had no choice but to walk.
The roads had no walkways for pedestrains, in some cases you put yourself in danger by having to walk too close to swiftly moving cars and trucks.
There were often obstacles to overcome to get from one place to another. However, other walkers before me left clear markings as to the safe means of getting through.
I received many odd glances from caucasion drivers who saw me as an anomoly. People of color were the norm with walkers.
However, I never felt threatened in any way by the people I met walling. They greeted me with smiles and an occasional “Hello” or “Hola”.
I fondly recall the times I had there and what I saw, that I likley would not have seen had I not walked.
We should encourage our communities to retain pedestrian walkways and use them ourselves. There is no better way to “see” and appreciate your surroundings, nevermind the health benefits.
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Hullo Vincent, yes walking … that was my love too. As a student, on Sunday evenings when I had nothing to do, I would set out from home and keep walking in some direction until I began to tire, and then turn back. Even 10 years ago, I would go for long walks with my sons (aged 5 and 2). I recall we used to go to a park 1.5 kms away, and look at the Hale-Bopp comet. Once I had gone with my son to Dehradun (in the Himalayan foothills), and one day he was very dejected and sad. We went out for a walk in the woods and coming upon a tiny gurgling stream, I asked him to take off his shoes and dip his feet in the water. Sure enough, his dejection vanished and his face lit up with the delight of the feel of the pebbles and the cold water. Unfortunately, Calcutta does not offer spontaneous walks anyomore, with hardly any pavement space left, and dug up and then scrappily filled in patches all over, making walking most uncomfortable. In Bangalore and Chennai, pavements have been erased altogether to widen roads. But when I'm out of India, I am once again able to simply walk and enjoy and take in the world around me.All walk, such playMakes Jack a fine boy!Bestrama
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Oh how I love to walk. I find myself transported in my mind to either utter emptiness, or to places I conjure up in my dreams, or just appreciating the beauty of everything around me, taking it all in, the full and total experience of it all. Walking as a physical activity feels so natural, so soothing, never forced or difficult, but rather as if the body is fluid and dynamic and full of life and energy. I even at times find myself walking when I have pain for the meditation it affords me offsets the physical experience, and even ultimately sometimes brings relief. Walking in meditation, in contemplation, in joy, in sorrow, in gratitude, in escape, and just for whatever the moment brings…
I love the new blog title (and I loved the old one too)
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Thanks all, & Serenity, I've changed the blog title again!
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I did something similar, when I could still walk – and jog. There was a boy on my counseling roster dying of cystic fibrosis, ten years old. Slowly suffocating.
I used to think of him a lot while I was jogging, soaking up the wind and air and elements. Like I was doing it “for” him or in his honor.
It wasn't anything I did deliberately, it just sort of started itself – he'd come to mind and there was that incredible contrast with what I was then able to do and experience and I'd think of him and wish I could feel for him and send him the feelings.
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Yes Paul, precisely. And I was thinking of you too when I wrote it – and walked.
For the truth is, we are all One. And when the discussion is about Love, giving it or receiving it, I forget sometimes that Oneness is the reason for love. But I forget Oneness less often, indeed I find the Brotherhood of Man (another way to describe Oneness) more inspiring than the Fatherhood of God.
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Beautiful sentiments as always Vincent. There is nothing I enjoy more than a long leisurely walk. It is when I feel most alive and connected to the universe. Thanks to you, being mindful of those that can’t experience the joy of walking is something I will practice and will undoubtedly make my experiences richer. Thanks!
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I have the impression that rural walking is easier and more unchecked in the UK, is this true? Here walking rurally is very difficult because every field belongs to someone who does not permit trespass; you must walk in the road and endure clouds of dust when cars speed by.
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In the United Kingdom, there is a network of public footpaths across the countryside and even through towns. They are marked on maps, marked on the ground with signposts and little arrows, equipped with stiles or gates and protected by law. No landowner is permitted to obstruct a public footpath; but they are for the benefit of landowners too because they help prevent walkers wandering in other places where they are less authorised.
The county councils maintain these footpaths and bridleways (paths where horse-riding is also permitted). But there are other organisations such as the National Trust which also maintain these ways, some of which are prehistoric, such as the Ridgeway Path which is not far from us, and takes you to the Vale of the Uffington White Horse and Wayland's Smithy.
In towns, the public footpaths are often much more direct than the road system because they cut through dead-end roads and go behind back-gardens and so on.
Farmers round here worry about trespass only when it's the pheasant-breeding season. I have a feeling you cannot own pheasants as they are technically wild, so they make great efforts to feed them in winter, protect the young ones from the predatory red kites, all so that they can multiply and be shot by sportsmen.
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