Clever people have recently devised ways to do what they want to do without actually doing it. Say the travel bug is biting you, as it has bitten me. We may not physically be ready to hop on a bus to faraway places, but we can almost do it, or pretend we are doing it, or do something similar that replaces the thing we really want to do. This is the world of virtual.
The trend of virtual walking – taking a walk without really being there – has given me some lifestyle relief lately. It’s not ideal. In fact, the idea of not-stepping out while someone else does the trekking in the place where you want to be is ridiculous. It’s exactly what walking should not be. I could even sit on my comfy porch while someone else does the walking, but I haven’t taken it that far yet. Being virtual, however, is better than letting myself get into a rut. It gives me a reason to laugh. Perhaps what I am feeling is the laughter of hysterical relief, but at this point, it’s almost enough.
Want to walk El Camino de Santiago in Northern Spain, as I want to do? Strap on your smart phone, plug in your ear buds, call up a Youtube Camino walk, and head out your own front door. You walk along with someone who is actually walking that historical path. You’re just using technology and your own community streets. In your mind, you can be in another place on the planet while your feet stay local. No air travel, no expenses-on-the-road, no proof of good health. Be you without being there. On second thought, maybe hikes like this are not that ridiculous.
On my neighborhood walk, I may be looking at my neighbor’s house, a familiar sight, but I am hearing the rustle of vines in Spain’s Rioja region and the slap of someone else’s footsteps on a graveled pathway. On the Youtube walk, a voice calls out “Buen Camino” as I wait at the light to cross Highway 1. I find that as I continue, I begin to pace myself to match the other walker’s steps. In this virtual world, I am no longer laughing, and have lost that feeling of hysteria, but the same emotional cleansing release is there. It’s something new I am doing, in the midst of so much that has been repeating and repeating these past many months.
My stroll this afternoon may be the same as I have been taking almost daily for longer than I want to count, but I feel refreshed. As I listen to the adventure of another walker half-way across the world, I follow my over-worn tromp around the neighborhood. I get lost in someone else’s journey while taking my own.
Isn’t there an implied philosophical question that this type of walk brings to mind? Is it virtuous, this virtual world? After a couple of years of not being anywhere but home, does it matter? I suppose it’s a nice surreality when we need it.
If you had asked me three years ago if I would ever take a virtual walk, I would have asked, “Why?” Now, I say, “Why not?”
Susan Vasquez 