Every tribe has its rituals; mine – Oxford undergraduates in the last gasp of the vacation – is no exception. As Michaelmas term looms, my Instagram feed becomes the site of a curious annual competition, over the whiteness of beaches, the depth of tans and the performativity of poses. This year I chose a different path. I spent a week trudging alone across Norfolk on the Walsingham Way.

The Walsingham Way was once among England’s great medieval pilgrimage routes

The Walsingham Way was once among England’s great medieval pilgrimage routes

I am not especially religious, but I had wanted to go on a pilgrimage for some time. My Gold DofE, despite my school’s best efforts, had not put me off the prospect of oversized waterproofs and blister-inducing boots. My parents were bemused by my choice to spend some of my summer walking, alone on the outskirts of Norwich, when I should have been tackling that long reading list or saving a few hundred quid towards somewhere considerably sunnier next year. I did what all twenty-year-olds should and ignored them. Thus, one Sunday morning, they dropped me at Norwich Cathedral.

The Walsingham Way was once among England’s great medieval pilgrimage routes. Henry III, Edward I and a young Henry VIII........

© The Spectator