:ater this year, I’m planning to walk the St Peter’s Way—a 45-mile pilgrimage route stretching from Chipping Ongar to Bradwell-on-Sea in Essex. It’s not the Camino de Santiago (though I hope to walk that too one day), but it is a path rich in history, faith, and meaning.

St Peter’s Way traces some of the earliest Christian landscapes in England. It ends at the chapel of St Peter-on-the-Wall—founded in the 7th century by St Cedd, a missionary from Lindisfarne. It’s one of the oldest churches still standing in England, stark and beautiful by the edge of the sea.

Why walk it? Partly for the solitude. Partly for the history. But also for the reminder that movement can be prayer. That pilgrimage is not escape—it’s return. To self, to silence, to that still, small voice we so easily drown in everyday life.

In a busy world—especially in public life—there’s great value in stepping away from the noise. Pilgrimage offers not just spiritual renewal, but perspective. It humbles us. Slows us. Teaches us to look again at hedgerows, clouds, and our own thoughts.

And I believe, perhaps unfashionably, that English Christianity still matters. That these ancient footpaths are part of our national inheritance. Walking them is a form of stewardship—not just of landscape, but of memory.