Walking in zigzags
How to meander around a city on purpose
Hello again,
Have you been kicking your feet through the autumn leaves since we last met? I’d love to hear how your walks and scribbles are coming along, so you’re always welcome to share your thoughts in the comments or drop me a note by replying to the email version of these posts.
Walking
I’ll get straight to it: I stole this walk from another walking writer.
The zigzag walk was invented by Stephen Graham – a British journalist, travel writer, essayist and novelist, whose 1926 book, The Gentle Art of Tramping, was all but lost until it was republished in 2019. While the title may not have aged so well – for ‘tramping’ read ‘walking’ – the book is an absolute gem and sums up my feelings about walking beautifully.
“It is a gentle art; know how to tramp and you know how to live. Know how to meet your fellow wanderer, how to be passive to the beauty of nature and how to be active to its wildness and its rigour.”
Stephen Graham
Graham’s book is part handbook and part ode to nature and the Great Outdoors. He considers whether one should walk alone or with a companion, what to carry and what to leave behind. He has advice on finding shelter, songs to march along to, and views on boots and books, maps and trespass.
But the chapter I return to most is called ‘A Zigzag Walk’. It’s inspired me to take many zigzag walks of my own so here’s how to do it, in Graham’s own words:
“I have mentioned the ‘zigzag’ walk. Did you ever make one? Probably not, for it is my secret. I invented it…
One day in New York, wishing to explore that great city in a truly haphazard way, I hit on the following device – a zigzag walk. The first turning to the left is the way of the heart. Take it at random and you are sure to find something pleasant and diverting. Take the left again and the piquancy may be repeated. But reason must come to the rescue, and you must turn to the right in order to save yourself from a mere uninteresting circle.
To make a zigzag walk you take the first turning to the left, the first to the right, then the first to the left again, and so on.”
This walk came to my rescue many times during the UK lockdowns. I often ended up walking in circles around my local neighbourhood and it was boring as hell. Walking in zigzags made east London interesting again and opened up corners of Bethnal Green, Brick Lane, Shoreditch and Whitechapel I’d never known existed, let alone walked around before. I was also surprised at how far I could get on these walks. I know this part of London so well I thought I could guess at where a zigzag walk would lead and was often happily surprised by ending up somewhere completely different. The trick to this was to always start from a new street – or I’d have ended up following the same route every time.
So this time I invite you to take a zigzag walk. Set off and take the first left turning, then the first right, and keep turning left and right until you’re pleasantly lost. Or dizzy. Whichever comes first.
You’ll need to try this in a city or town as I reckon you’ll ending up walking for miles in the countryside before finding your next left or right turn. And I’d avoid trying it on a coastal path or you might end up in a heap of bother. Sometimes a turn might lead onto a dead-end, no-entry or private street, so when you come across one of those just skip it and take the next turn instead. Oh, and you might find it helpful to carry a map, or use an app on your phone, so you can find your way back again.
Writing
I’ve been holding onto this walk for months, keen to share it with you all, but I’ve been scratching my head about what kind of writing exercise to pair with it.
An online search led me to the ‘zigzag letters’, which, according to BBC bitesize are v, w, x and z. Another education site includes the letters y and k. And I stumbled upon a school worksheet that includes the letter n in the mix. Christ knows how kids today are meant to learn how to read and write when grown ups can’t seem to agree on this stuff.
Anyway, the general ‘rule’ seems to be that zigzag letters are made up of straight lines and you write them using a sort of ‘up, down’ movement. So, for my money, that’s these ones (when written as capitals):
A
K
M
N
V
W
X
Y
Z
So for your writing this time – thank god we finally got there, eh? – I invite you to write a poem inspired by what you experienced during your zigzag walk. The catch? Each new line should start with one of the nine zigzag letters above. You can use them in any order, and repeat them if you want to. And if you get really stuck with any of them – I’m looking at you, X – then you can skip it. It’ll be our little secret.
Happy zigzagging until next time – and don’t get lost!
Sarah