Walking without purpose

In the nominative determinism stakes, I’ve been dealt a nice one. I’m an Ambler. And, yep, I’m a huge fan of a gentle amble: likewise, a mooch, a potter or a pootle. Those very words hint at the gentle pleasures to be found in setting out for a stroll with no determined mission or destination, other than to be led by your curiosity or your mood.

A bit of leisurely freedom sounds nice but, in practice, it can be hard to do. Especially when we’ve become so used to dividing our life up by deadlines and to-do lists. So, when I came across the ‘Situationists International’ I found the justification I needed. One of the theories of this group of avant garde artists, around from the 1950s onwards, was the ‘dérive’: basically to go on a walk without a destination, and let yourself ‘drift’ through the city. Their argument was that this simple act was an important counterpoint to the monotony and structures of modern life. Turns out a spot of light pootling has radical potential.

An amble is never about rushing. It’s about taking it at a slow, meandering pace that’s bound to infuriate anyone walking behind you. It’s about letting yourself be guided by your interests in that moment (even if they’re going to change a moment later). In her book Pottering: A Cure for Modern Life, Anna McGovern suggests a “pop to the shop for a magazine. Seek out a bench and take the time to read the dedication on it. Sit, look through your magazine and have a think in the fresh air”.

On my recent mooches, I’ve peered into newly opened shops, been distracted by a blue plaque I’ve never clocked before and mulled over an intriguing notice about a lost ferret. All inconsequential, but hugely pleasing as part of the fabric that makes up my day. But the biggest discovery that comes from an amble is surely that, for an enjoyable walk, sometimes you don’t need a purpose at all.