I was reading a book – and somewhere there, somebody mentioned this quite fascinating quote:

It is true, we are but faint hearted crusaders, even the walkers, nowadays, who undertake no persevering, never-ending enterprises. Our expeditions are but tours, and come round again at evening to the old hearthside from which we set out. Half the walk is but retracing our steps. We should fo gorth on the shortest walk, perchance in the spitit of undying advetyrure, never ro return, prepared to send back our embalmed hearts only as relics to our desolate kingdoms. If you are ready to leave father and mother, and brother and sister, and wife and child and friends, and never see them again – if you have paid your debts, and made your will, and settled all your affairs, and are a free man – then you are ready for a walk.

- Henry David Thoreau, Walking.