Side by Side: What I Learned about Listening while Walking with Strangers

In 2017, I walked the Via Francigena—a long, sun-soaked trail through Italy where strangers cross paths and somehow leave as something closer. 

Along the way, I met faces that became constants. Not by plan or schedule, just by showing up at the same time, again and again. I met Kate and Patrick one day on the trail. 

At first, it was just nods in passing—a smile, a shared break beneath a shaded tree, a “Buongiorno.” But the trail has this way of softening edges. 

Before long, we started walking together every day. For a whole month, our footsteps fell into rhythm. 

We never sat down and asked for life stories across a table. Instead, stories unfolded side by side, with no pressure, no rush, no script. The road was wide enough for all of it. 

Day by day, our group expanded – new characters in our unfolding narrative. None of us shared the same past, but somehow, we understood each other. Walking created the space for that. 

We became a kind of community, founded on presence, kindness, and the daily rhythm of showing up. 

That’s what stayed with me: how companionship can begin with a simple nod; how listening sometimes happens best not face to face, but shoulder to shoulder. 

Walking beside someone—there’s its own kind of love in that.