I’m a firm believer in a “Take a hike, kid!” mentality. Taking a walk can cure anything, I think. If I have recently experienced a stressful situation, you can probably find me walking it off in Schenley Park. If it’s a sunny day, I will be outside soaking up the sun, staving off a vitamin D deficiency. If there’s snow on the ground, this flâneur will be on her walking route taking advantage of what is perhaps her third-to-last snow experience ever. Many thanks, climate change. 

I will forever be a subscriber to the belief that humans were created to walk outside. We’re on this planet to interact with the environment — with the wind in our faces, with the crunchy leaves beneath our feet, with the rain that falls from the sky. It may not all be pleasant to us — hence, the indoors world we’ve created — but it’s an important part of the human experience, and we’re missing an integral piece of life if we’re not spending time outside. 

To illustrate my point, I decided to write this column outside. Don’t believe me? Look out your window. Yup, that’s me out there. Please open the window so I can argue with you face to face. 

In a world that prioritizes being indoors, it can be hard to find good places to be outside. It’s no secret that America is pretty car-centric — Pittsburgh especially. So as someone who loves being outdoors so much, I find it pretty frustrating to live in cities built of road upon road upon road. It’s so hard to get from place to place, especially when the city doesn’t prioritize public transportation. I’ve found Oakland to be a generally walkable neighborhood, but the drivers can be a bit aggressive, much to my chagrin and much to the endangerment of my health.

Lucky for me, however, my recent escapades in traveling have opened my mind to the possibilities of a pedestrian lifestyle. Has anyone ever considered putting the Port Authority bus system underground? What if we just took the bulk of the transportation routes in a city and put them underground so they weren’t in everyone’s way, and we could use all the above ground space for walking and other pretty stuff? Said London in the 19th century. 

Don’t listen to the Brits’ complaints about the London Underground — the Underground system is my favorite ever experience in public transportation. It is so unbelievably easy to get around. It is orderly, timely, so convenient and you can get anywhere — the T just does not hold a flame to that. And because I know you’re just dying to know, the Bakerloo is my favorite line. There’s something just so titillating about being an American in London and riding the same underground line that Sherlock Holmes rode in the stories. And the Elizabeth line is my other favorite. Lizzy intimidates me because frankly, she means business with her double doors, but I appreciate that about her. I like to think we’re the same in that regard. We’re not, but I like to think it. 

While there are still certainly cars in London, the model of the city makes it easy to truly feel like you can experience the city without driving. Here in Pittsburgh, it’s really hard to reach certain corners. I’ve been on the North Shore only a handful of times because I really just don’t enjoy the lengthy bus ride getting there. If I had a car, you bet I’d be driving on over there for a fun afternoon at the Carnegie Science Center … and then cursing the government for charging me to park. You can’t win, can you? 

In London, however, so much of the city is reachable via the Underground, and even the extra walk after leaving the station is a fun experience. I don’t know what exactly the difference is, but the walk that would exhaust me in Pittsburgh would energize me in London. I’m no city design expert, but I have to believe that the Londonders have truly created a city that values walking. 

I loved every London walk. Hyde and Regent’s parks offered lovely strolls, but even a walk along the street was a beautiful experience. London is gorgeous, and I loved taking in the scenery from the sidewalk — or pavement, as they say, and as I was corrected once. If you know me, you know I love old buildings, so every glimpse I got delighted me. I miss my walk to Tesco, passing the colorful flags strung up over a primary school. I miss the flowers hung outside of pubs. I miss the blinking streetlights on the crosswalks warning the oncoming drivers of a pedestrian. If I had taken a car around the city, I would’ve missed these things. But in three months, I didn’t need a car once. Just the Underground, a few buses and my two feet. And on my feet was how I got to know London, now my favorite city. 

For all my fascination with walking, you can imagine, then, how I feel about a city with no cars at all. Take Venice, for example. No, it’s not just a tourist trap. It may seem like an amusement park in the shape of an ancient city, but it’s actually just a really cool ancient city whose primary business is tourism. I visited Venice last November with some friends, and when I tell you that city did me good, I mean it. The Italian sun, the little bridges over water, the brightly painted buildings and laundry lines strung up overhead … I now know that the peak city design is one that makes you feel like you’re in a film just while strolling around. This is the life we deserve. 

I may have had to watch out for walking straight into a canal and held onto my phone for dear life, but not once did I have to watch out for a car. And I’ll take the threat of walking into water over the threat of someone hitting me with their car any day. Easy. 

Not that long ago, all cities were about walking. I mean, sure, there were horse drawn carriages and bikes and other things on wheels, but let’s not forget that cities predate vehicles. Cities were created for walking convenience, not car convenience. And here we are, in car hell. I’m going to stage a protest by standing out in the middle of Forbes every day until I get hit. Who’s gonna join me? Just kidding. No one do that. Please. I’ll cry if someone gets hurt on my behalf, and then you’ll have to deal with me crying, and it’ll be very awkward for the both of us. 

I’ll stare down Oakland drivers who don’t really look like they’re gonna stop at stop signs to the day that I die, and do it happily. But truly, I can’t stop thinking about how much nicer it was to walk in a place that felt like I was meant to walk there rather than some places I’ve walked in this country, where I’ve felt like I was playing “Crossy Road” with my physical body. It’s lovely to walk around, and I’ll do it forever, because I know it’s good for my health. But it would be nice if cities were as they were originally meant to be — designed for people, not big boxes of moving metal. Throw this flâneur a bone, Pittsburgh. 

Anna will willingly share her Oakland walk route if you contact her at [email protected].