The Pilgrimage of the Cow
We live in fast times, disconnected from each other, from the land, and from tradition. This pilgrimage is a way to bring people together again.
For 210 kilometers, we will walk side by side with a cow — a humble, powerful symbol of nourishment, patience, and strength. Thirty of us will travel together, sleeping by the cow, eating by the cow, sharing stories, laughter, and silence. Step by step, we’ll rediscover the rhythm of life, the weight of community, and the beauty of moving slowly together.
The pilgrimage is not about speed, but about unity. Each day will be marked by small rituals — meals prepared in common, songs shared around the fire, and the steady presence of the cow leading us forward. The journey itself becomes a living tradition: a chain of people and stories carried along the road.
At the end of the path, we will gather for the sacrifice and the feast — a moment of deep gratitude. This final act binds us: we give thanks to the animal, to the land, and to each other. Around one long table, we will eat, drink, sing, and celebrate what we have built together.
This is more than a walk. It is a return to roots, to community, to meaning. It is an invitation to be part of something ancient and new at once.
We live in fast times, disconnected from each other, from the land, and from tradition. This pilgrimage is a way to bring people together again.
For 210 kilometers, we will walk side by side with a cow — a humble, powerful symbol of nourishment, patience, and strength. Thirty of us will travel together, sleeping by the cow, eating by the cow, sharing stories, laughter, and silence. Step by step, we’ll rediscover the rhythm of life, the weight of community, and the beauty of moving slowly together.
The pilgrimage is not about speed, but about unity. Each day will be marked by small rituals — meals prepared in common, songs shared around the fire, and the steady presence of the cow leading us forward. The journey itself becomes a living tradition: a chain of people and stories carried along the road.
At the end of the path, we will gather for the sacrifice and the feast — a moment of deep gratitude. This final act binds us: we give thanks to the animal, to the land, and to each other. Around one long table, we will eat, drink, sing, and celebrate what we have built together.
This is more than a walk. It is a return to roots, to community, to meaning. It is an invitation to be part of something ancient and new at once.