The Simplicity Of Walking (4)

Camino, Spain

Many years ago, a friend made me a begging bowl like the ones used by the Buddhist monks. I keep it on my desk, where it can be seen daily, because it reminds me of several principles that I want to guide my life. First, it reminds me of Lao Tzu's paradoxical advice that we must be empty if we wish to be full. Second, it reminds me that my needs, versus my desires, are no greater than what can be placed in a small bowl each day — a little food and a little water. Finally, and most importantly, it reminds me of the need to anchor my life in simplicity — simplicity of purpose, simplicity of thought, simplicity of action. From GEORGE's blog Transit Notes

Our life is frittered away by detail ... Simplify, simplify. THOREAU

Simplicity of purpose, simplicity of thought, simplicity of action. Where better to find this guiding trinity exemplified than in the simple act of walking, especially long distance walking? Here are a few thoughts on walking's pared-down simplicities.

Simplicity of locomotion: What means of transport is simpler, more economical, more eco-friendly and more liberating than one's own two feet? Even both horse and bicycle - my next preferred modes of travel - are more restrictive, and have maintainance costs involved. But if you walk you are totally free. You can go more or less where you want. If you look after your feet, they'll take you 80,000 miles over 80 years with a little luck. They don't need feeding, oiling, refuelling, waxing and polishing every Sunday, or heaps of hard-earned cash poured into them. Just a little basic care and consideration, and the right footwear (girls, beware those high heels!), and they should give you a lifetime's service - each step a sensual pleasure. Try going barefoot too - the ultimate in freedom.

Simplicity of clothing: Sure, you can spend a fortune on walking gear - technical trousers, wicking underwear, state-of-the-art backpacks and all the rest. Equally, with a little astuteness and imagination, you can spend relatively little. Good quality hiking kit can last a very long time. I've had some of mine for years and years. The secret is to narrow down what you really need and will really use from the outset. I know from experience it's temptingly easy to waste money buying the wrong kind of stuff. Comfort's the prime consideration here: expensive pairs of all-singing-all-dancing walking boots are just scrap if they're not serviceable and comfortable. And the same goes for all other items of apparel, to a greater or lesser extent. But you don't have to sacrifice stylishness: gear these days looks good and is fashionable too. Two golden rules: firstly, footwear's the most important item for the long distance walker. If your feet are unhappy, then you are unhappy. Invest in walking boots carefully and wisely. Secondly, wear relatively thin, technical multi-layers of clothing. This is comfortable and practical. You can strip layers off and put them on according to the weather and the temperature. (Clothing that's too thick and bulky is uncomfortable over a long period of time and impedes flexibility - as well as adding unnecessary weight to your pack.) My own personal favourite items of clothing? Body-hugging Merino wool base layers (long-sleeved top, long pants). I wouldn't be without them in cold weather. In fact I'm wearing them now! And, top tip: you can wear them for days without even a trace of body odour!

Simplicity of food: Food and drink are the very soul of a long hike or pilgrimage. Anyone who tells you differently is lying. Without the pleasure and sustenance of food and drink, all the other untold benefits of walking - opportunities for exercise, reflection, meditation, therapy, spiritual growth - would wither on the vine. When walking long distances day after day you get very hungry and very thirsty. But what's great is that, however much you eat (within reason), you lose weight rather than gain weight, as you're burning calories like mad because of the physical exertion. Also, you lose weight because there are far fewer temptations and opportunities to eat. You're often in the middle of nowhere, miles from shops, towns, even villages. So your packed lunch becomes incredibly important - what you've packed, when and where to eat it, and so on. I must honestly say that some of the best, tastiest and most satisfying meals of my life have been simple al fresco lunches - perhaps of bread, cheese and olives - eaten on a flat rock in a stunning mountain landscape, or on a wild headland jutting out into a blue sea, or in a grassy hollow surrounded by woods full of barking deer.

Simplicity of shelter: On long treks and Camino pilgrimages accommodation is often simple and spartan - but it's cheap, and it usually offers hot showers, a bunk bed and a warm reception. What more could you want or need? Sharing food and stories and experiences with fellow walkers and pilgrims is physical and spiritual sustenance enough at the end of the day. Of course, like anyone I like my posh hotels from time to time. But they can be so, so lonely...

Simplicity of friendship: While walking alone and for long distances through countries and amazing landscapes, fleeting friendships are often struck and abandoned. Or they may be continued. I like to call these micro-friendships. But often there is nothing micro about them. They may be enormously significant and profound, despite the short period of time. We all know the importance of brief but deep conversational rapports we've had, say, with strangers on a train. Barriers come down, the usual polite, camouflaging niceties dissolve, and we make contact with the real, raw, uninhibited person and fellow traveller.

Simplicity of thought: Yes, I've had profound, spiritual epiphanies on my long walks. I've written poems. I've felt an almost mystical identification with Nature from time to time. But in fact, most of the time, one's thoughts are stripped down to bare essentials. How long till I can eat? How many hours of daylight are left? Have I read the map correctly? Does that black cloud mean the weather's about to turn? These primal, primitive, essentially life-preserving instincts cleanse and simplify the anxiety-driven mind. What use the metaphysical torments of the ravaged soul, the restless spirit or the ever-demanding intellect if we are lost, cold or hungry? Such simplification of thought is - actually - a purging experience, and clears the mind of its crippling, life-long baggage in a quite wonderful way.