Notes from Ann

I’ve just returned from France, where I completed something that has been quietly shaping my life for years : visiting all 305 towns in France named for Saint Martin of Tours. Five pilgrimages, 14,230 kilometers on foot, and a whole lot of grace later… it’s done. This last loop—68 Saint-Martin towns and 2,792 km around the northeast of France—felt like the perfect culmination of the whole project.  Enormous is the impact of St Martin - 1,700 years after his death, more towns are named for him in France - and throughout all of Europe - than any other person!

As a mendicant pilgrim, I never quite know what each day will bring, but this journey reminded me again and again that people are so good. Soooo good. Embrace the unknown!  About 67% of my nights were unexpectedly spent in family homes—spare bedrooms, corner rooms, kids’ art taped to the walls, warm kitchens with late-night tea.  Formal dinner parties; casual receptions.  Such warmth!  The rest were in municipal or religious spaces, each offered with generous hearts. Everywhere I went, people welcomed me, fed me, encouraged me, and set me back on the path with a smile. I truly couldn’t have done it alone. No pilgrim ever does.  A pilgrimage may be personal, but never every private - A silent pilgrim does the world no good.

This north-eastern route became a cascade of encounters—helpful people, curious people, sympathetic people, people who simply saw me walking and thought, Let’s help her out. And through those encounters, the story spread. Thanks entirely to a wide network of anonymous people who made introductions and insisted, “You should talk to our journalist,” I ended up doing twenty-nine newspaper interviews. Twenty-nine! I never sought them out; they just found me. I felt like a tiny mustard seed lifted by a great, warm wind—carrying the story and virtues of Saint Martin far wider than I ever could on my own. His charity, compassion, justice, equality, and tolerance still resonate so deeply.

Was there a single most memorable moment? Impossible. The whole pilgrimage was stitched together with countless small acts of goodness. And that’s what moves me most: the lived reminder that love prevails. People are good. So good. A pilgrimage may be personal, but it’s never private. Every person who opens a door or asks, “Where are you walking today?” becomes part of it. Jeez, I love being a pilgrim.

And now, the next paths are taking shape. First up, I’m heading to the Santuario de Chimayó in New Mexico for the Christmas Posadas—a cherished pause before the next long walks. Then I’m off to Scotland and Northumbria to continue exploring the 5th- and 6th-century saints, many of whom were shaped—directly or indirectly—by Saint Martin and the monastic community he formed at Marmoutier in Tours. That thread of spiritual lineage fascinates me, and I’m eager to keep following it.

Looking ahead to summer and some of the Via Sancti Martinis, I’m gathering young pilgrims (twenty-somethings) for a Saint Martin pilgrimage from Zaragoza, Spain to Tours. And later immediately after, I’ll be inviting 'more mature' pilgrims to join me from Utrecht, Netherlands to Tours. Both routes are rich with history, story, and opportunities for deep encounter. Details for each are here on the website: Saragosse and Utrecht.

To everyone who walked alongside me—physically or in spirit—thank you. You made this final loop a triumph of human connection and grace. Onward we go, together.  The world needs more pilgrims!

Between pilgrimages—both immediately before and after, if I can arrange it—I cherish some cenobitic quiet time. Not the daily forward rhythm of pilgrimage, and not the delightful busyness of “regular” life either, with its friendships, shared meals, laughter, presentations, and the flurry of preparing for the next long walk. All of that is fulfilling, but it fills the hours fast. Time to truly reflect—on the pilgrimage just completed, and the one ahead—can too easily get pushed to the margins. So, committing to my spiritual readiness, I am right now, as I write this note and update the website, spending two weeks in a Benedictine monastery. Semi-cloistered, with few demands on my time or thoughts, I’m immersing myself in quietude. Between the calming rhythm of psalm-chanting thrice-daily with the gentle monks, I rest in the in-between. Neither on pilgrimage nor fully off… this is my urban hermitage for balance.

Many pilgrims ask about gear or logistics—but what I most want to encourage is this: don’t skip the liminal time. Pilgrimage doesn’t begin with the first step, nor end at the final destination. There’s soul-deepening richness in crossing the threshold intentionally. Let yourself arrive slowly. Let yourself return slowly. Even a day or two of quietude can soften the edges, open the heart, and help your spirit prepare—or absorb—all that the journey entails. It’s tempting to leap in or out, with responsibilities pressing and excitement high, yet I’ve found these liminal days to be among the most informative, the most revealing, the most filled with grace. All along the path, someone will ask, “Why are you doing this?” And upon return: “Well? How was it?” The pilgrim who has given space to the before and after will have answers rooted in something meaningful, dare I say, profound.

This monastery has Wi-Fi—so I’m not fully unplugged. I’m looking forward to an online event hosted by Hero’s Camino, a follow-up to our October conversation before my St. Martin pilgrimage in France. Since then, I’ve completed an extraordinary walk through the east of France and a winding pilgrimage in Ireland—both full of beauty, challenge, and grace. I’ll share reflections from those journeys, and some thoughts about the path I’m about to begin. The event includes Q&R and is open to all—see the link here to register through Hero’s Camino. Details about the pilgrimages themselves are linked elsewhere on this site.

Looking ahead, I’ve posted new opportunities on the Upcoming Pilgrimages page. All begin with someone reaching out, stirred by a saint, shrine, or sacred story. I shape the route and gather pilgrims for the shared experience. If something calls to your heart—let’s talk.

To those who’ve supported this work—especially with donations for travel and gear—thank you. Your generosity allows me to live this extraordinary life as a mendicant servant pilgrim, walking far, building trust among strangers, and witnessing how peace begins with small acts and open hearts. It’s not always easy, but it is deeply rewarding. I carry you with me on every path, every mountain, every bog. Thank you for believing in the quiet power of pilgrimage.

The journey to relaunching this website has been a pilgrimage unto itself, but so be it — spring is here, and the site is born again! 

Those who know me personally understand that I spend most of the year on pilgrimage, and otherwise planning upcoming journeys, speaking at conferences, salons, Zooms, retreating with the Benedictines, and handling the ceaseless logistics of readiness. For years, I’ve been dissatisfied with the website, struggling to keep it properly maintained as a platform for sharing information and staying connected. My hope is that this new design—sustainable, informative, and easy to navigate—will meet those needs at last.

With this relaunch, I’m making a personal commitment to update this page at least three times a year, striving for more when the pilgrim schedule allows. These will offer reflections on recent pilgrimages and highlight upcoming journeys. I hope you’ll enjoy them!

A year and a half ago, many friends, acquaintances, and fellow pilgrims joined me in celebrating a milestone: 50,000 miles (80,000 kilometers) walked—a distance twice around the Earth - as a pilgrim. That physical milestone represents countless spiritual quests and the humbling privilege of meeting extraordinary people along the way. If I attempted to capture every adventure and transformation in one newsletter, it would be far too long! Instead, we’ll begin anew from here, embarking on this next chapter together.

The wisdom I had the grace to understand on my very first pilgrimage in 2007 remains true: A silent pilgrim does the world no good.

Greetings from Denver, friends!

I spent the winter walking another 2,000 miles around the Grand Est of France in the fourth of the five circuits I've organized to visit every town in France named for Saint Martin.  I met lovely people from another 66 Martintowns this winter.  As always, there's a bittersweetness when a pilgrimage comes to an end.  The beauty of this extended project is that I'll be back on the Martin trail by midsummer.

Naturally, being in winter, the weather was an ever-present challenge, a particularly wet winter left me slogging through quite a bit of inundated forests and fields and a few cold snaps put me in the eerie encompassing whiteness of frozen fog.  As always, the less agreeable the weather, the more agreeable the people.

It's futile to rank cherished experiences, but what stands out a month out was the opportunity to be interviewed by 15 newspapers in 12 weeks, and spontaneously, not by efforts on my part.  I also gave two radio interviews about Saint Martin and my pilgrimage. The cast of my net as an ambassador for Saint Martin and his extraordinary character is greatly expanded with broadcasts through local media.  It's a lot of fun, too.

Looking ahead, I plan to set out for Ireland again in May and June to continue with my pilgrimage to explore and celebrate the early Celtic saints, influenced as they were by Saint Martin.

After that, I'll forego a young adult high adventure pilgrimage this summer in order to begin the last of the circuits of the Martintowns in mid August so that the grand finale of the project will fall exactly on his feast day - 11 November.

I hope that there will be enough interest this autumn to pull together another group pilgrimage for Saint Rose Philippine Duchesne across Missouri.  We've got a seasoned pilgrim eager to organize and accompany pilgrims again to arrive on her feast day, 18 November.

As always, happy trails, pilgrims!