Walking has always been something I enjoy, but this enjoyment has lately taken on epic proportions. There are many reasons for that, most of them extremely practical. First of all, work is quieter, so I can actually leave my office building during lunch and I’m also not completely dead by the evening. Second, the weather is absolutely glorious and I’m someone who has no problem to enjoy 30 degrees Celsius in the city. Third, my first training sessions after several years have left me so sore and stiff that I need to keep moving, otherwise I might never be able to get up again.

Possibly the weirdest reason of them all is fashion-related. The whims of the trend gods have made it so that everything can be worn with trainers. And I don’t mean nice, neat Stan Smith sneakers or cool Converse (which I love dearly, bust can I just say: NOT COMFORTABLE!). I mean proper sporty trainers that you could – and I do – wear to the gym. Suddenly, they just look right.

Now, I’m a person who can walk significant distances in heels, but frankly, I’m not looking forward to a four-kilometre lunch break stroll when I’m wearing 10+ centimetres of elevation. Even compared to other flats, trainers are more comfortable. Walking in my summer sandals or loafers is enjoyable enough, but bouncing around in trainers is almost addictive. I like to walk fast and there is a sense of immense freedom in getting to places on your own terms.

So due to all that (and because I’m currently alone in Brussels), I’ve been walking a lot. I know that many people prefer walking in nature – and I don’t mind that either, it’s just a different genre -, but I LOVE walking in cities. I like the fact that there are people around and cafes and dogs and strange places and inexplicable details. Walking alone in a city, even one I know well, has a curious effect on me. On one hand, there seems to be a certain distance between me and everything else, I become an observer rather than participant. At the same time, there is also a sense of closeness: I feel an enormous amount of goodwill towards everyone when I’m walking and I love the type of human interaction it encourages. In the last couple of days, I have:

– given money to a guy who was clearly under the influence of something (and will probably spend that money to get more of that influence), but was moved enough by my naivete to tell me he lives with his mom and his name is Hakim
– had a random conversation with a lovely Belgian person about how dangerous it is to hesitate at traffic lights
– complimented a lot of people, including a big guy on the metro with a super cool armband, a girl with amazing eyebrows and some cute dogs
– have been complimented by a lot of people and asked by a lady where I get my hair done
– told shy Finnish boys where to shop (they asked)
– exchanged an intense, meaningful look with a red-haired woman smoking on the balcony
– been very tempted to join some moderately scary guys in the park drinking what seemed to be vodka and Fanta

Evening walks tend to be a bit less cheerful than day ones, but full of human drama. In this heat, people are out in the parks until late (although I have discovered that soon after 10pm, some places run out of females) or have moved tables and chairs to the pavement, so it sometimes feels more like Spain than Brussels. Lovers, beggars, gangs of boys, flocks of party girls, everybody is out in force. And then two streets on, it’s eerily quiet and empty.

I find that in most cases, walking is better with music. Especially if you walk for fitness purposes or as an antidote to sadness or anger, motivational music is highly appropriate. It might take some time to figure out what works, though, and that obviously differs according to circumstances. Often, songs that I wouldn’t really consider to be my taste are perfect for walking: MKTO Classic is a case in point –it’s not a work of musical genius and it’s slightly too slow for my preferred tempo, but it’s just so happy and encouraging that I love walking to it. Power ballads and epic rock are excellent for moody evening strolls and I find you don’t need to reserve revenge songs for post-heartbreak, they also work a treat in case work is being shit. I fully understand why all those repressed Victorian females used to walk so much: walking helps with everything.

There are of course much more intellectual ways of looking at walking, and if you are interested in them, you might want to read Lauren Elkin’s Flâneuse. My recent walking has been entirely unintellectual, however, almost mindless. I took 16 000 steps on Sunday and frankly have no idea how I got from home to Waterstones. Last night, I walked 10 minutes from my house in a direction I don’t usually take and got lost immediately. It’s fine. There’ll be time to analyse things in the autumn.