As antidotes to the busyness of day-to-day urban living, people are increasingly looking to long-distance trails. I suppose that’s one of the reasons I walked the Israel National Trail (INT):

I wanted to sidestep the clamor of my life.

The Holy Land is the original pilgrimage destination. And while I am no spiritual zealot, I did want to learn firsthand about a corner of the world that—from an outsider’s perspective—seems incredibly complex.

In February of 2015, I arrived in Israel with a backpack and a bit of ambition.

I had never walked a long-distance trail in my life, but I hypothesized that with the technical support from a friend named Igal (who had previously walked the trail), I just might be able to succeed.

I started cautiously.

The first leg of my journey was in the north, from Tel Dan to Tel Aviv.

The beginning was muddy, and I didn’t come across any other thru-hikers for weeks.

I thought about giving up.

But my legs grew stronger and I began to feel more competent.The generosity of local trail angels was vital in maintaining my morale.

For the second leg, I left the INT for two weeks, and hiked in Palestine along a trail called Masar Ibrahim. With a guide named Mohammed, I walked from Jenin to Jericho. I stayed with Palestinians in their homes. The food was incredible, and the people were immensely welcoming, immensely gentle.

The third and final leg was the expansive stretch from Jerusalem to Eilat.

This leg daunted me the most. In Canada, hiking landscapes are typically cool, wet and green.

The Negev Desert was the polar opposite: hot and parched. Slowly, I made my way forward and, to my surprise, began intersecting with other people.

I danced with Bedouins. I spent Pesach near The Big Crater (HaMakhtesh HaGadol) with a family from the Golan Heights. I met a fellow foreign hiker from France. Paradoxically, the desert wasn’t so deserted.

For me, walking across Israel and Palestine was a seminal journey.

Due to the complexities of borders and landscapes, however, visiting Palestine and/or hiking across the Negev desert is not for everyone.

These words and photographs are not intended as an itinerary, rather they are a glimpse into how one Canadian man experienced the region. I continue to talk about my journey simply because it’s a story that doesn’t make headlines.

My story is not conflictual or shouting to be heard: one person walks quietly across Israel and Palestine—and all goes well.

Imagine that.