This pleasant, well-written book begins with the author’s admission that after he was diagnosed with epilepsy he was no longer allowed to drive. This caused him to rely on walking to take him from place to place. As a result, he became fascinated with paths and trails not only in his local area but around the world. Mixed with the depictions of the author’s own wanderings are descriptions of literary accounts of paths and walking as well as accounts of renowned walkers traversing some of the world’s longest hiking trails. He writes that “all of them say the same thing about it: you enter into an inner state that you have never been in before and from which, after awhile, you never wish to emerge.”
As he delves into the history of human migration, Ekelund shares that “emigration and immigration are not unnatural; rather, staying in one place is. And yet our culture can hardly tolerate the nomadic way of life.” Ekelund is Norwegian, and I’m reading an English translation, but by “our culture” he is referring to western culture in general. Somehow the wanderlust has been denigrated, but many of us feel that intense longing to roam freely.
Since his conversion from motor vehicles to walking, Ekelund figures he walks around fifteen hundred to two thousand miles a year. That’s roughly four to five and a half miles a day. Not all of these miles are merely to and from work, though; Ekelund offers fascinating accounts of extended hikes through the beautiful Norwegian countryside. These hikes are aided by the “freedom to roam,” which he describes as “a state-mandated right in Norway in which all citizens can travel freely through the wilderness regardless of property lines.” To make it even easier for walkers to enjoy the country’s abundant natural beauty, communities of volunteers work hard to clear the hiking trails and keep them open.
“The path is the perfect metaphor,” says Ekelund. “It can contain all of the emotions and longings in the world.” And: “The metaphorical implications of the path are obvious and easy to understand because, in a way, life is all about choosing the right way.”
It is refreshing to read about these things from a European perspective – to vicariously explore another part of the world – to realize that people everywhere are very similar. Whether you wander a city, countryside, or wilderness, walking frees you and allows your mind to break out from the strictures within which society and culture sometimes traps it. As Ekelund takes his walks, he allows his thoughts to meander to books he has read, memories, and so on, all of which add depth to his narrative. “Thoughts arise when you walk.” He emphasizes that whenever thoughts occur to him, he stops and writes them down because “if you don’t immediately take note of such thoughts, they will slip away into the great void and be gone forever.” I have found this to be true on my own walks. I always carry a small notebook and pen with me. You might argue that I could use my phone; however, getting the most out of a walk involves minimizing technology and maximizing awareness. I have seen some people walking from one place to another in my neighborhood and elsewhere who the entire time have their noses buried in their phones; they are completely oblivious to what is going on around them. I’ll take the occasional photo while on a walk, but most of the time my phone is safely ensconced in my pocket. Ekelund recounts one walk he took into a trackless forest with a friend; at the beginning they agreed to bury their phones and GPS devices in the bottom of their packs and not get them out for two days. They got lost, all right, but they also learned a lot about elementary orienteering. Sometimes you have to get back to the basics to really do it right.
I recommend In Praise of Paths to anyone who enjoys walking, or anyone who is contemplating becoming more ambulatory but perhaps needs a little extra nudge to make it out the door. Once you take those first steps, you’ll never look back.


































