I'm an Environmentalist. But I Love to Travel.

I'm not trying to defend it. But I'm not going to stop, either.

I don’t think there are any set criteria for what it means to be an environmentalist, but I’ve always considered myself one. I’ve always cared enormously for the planet and its well-being, since I was a child. When I learned what recycling was, I was adamant that every household I lived in, from my family home to the shared flats during university, partake in it. I’ve always preferred organic everything, for the sake of the planet. I stopped eating meat when I was eleven years old. I never learned to drive a car out of environmental concerns (well, and because I’ve always had a million things I’d rather spend money on than driving lessons). I’ve always been that annoying person insisting on all the lights being switched off unless absolutely necessary. The planet should take priority, and we should all do what we can - it’s always been a no-brainer to me.

Having said that, I love to travel. I travel a lot. And my only wish in life is to be able to travel even more.

Contemplating my environmental impact atop a volcano crater in Iceland

Unlike the many meat-eating “environmentalists” who cling to some ill-conceived con scheme to justify their damaging habits, I have no qualms when it comes to admitting that I am indeed in the wrong. Travelling harms the environment on many levels: flying emits huge quantities of greenhouse gases, with the aviation sector representing 2,4% of global CO2 emissions. Alongside other gases and emissions, flying is to blame for about 5% of global warming. If that seems like a tiny piece of the pie, consider that this is only because such a small part of the planet’s population flies regularly. If everyone jumped on a plane as often as I do (I have nine trips planned this year), that emission budget would be considerably higher.

And flying isn’t the only problem. Overtourism harms the destinations we love in a variety of ways: from littering and pollution to undermining local cultures, making it harder for locals to live in these areas, and ruining the very travel experience we all want.

It should also be said that it doesn’t matter whether you consider yourself an environmentalist or not. Taking care of the planet should be a priority for all of us. “I don’t claim to be an environmentalist so I can do whatever I want” doesn’t really hold up in the face of the climate crisis.

A view I am very used to

I often find myself clinging to excuses, such as having family in other countries. I live in the UK, my family is in Sweden and my husband’s family is in Italy. So at least two flights per year are always on the cards, and often more. And believe me, it pains my heart that I am not spending even more time with my family. But no, I won’t give them the full weight of the blame for my extensive travel. After all, out of the nine trips I have planned this year, only three are to our home countries. No, my globetrotting is down to pure wanderlust - that desire to discover, explore, see new places. The further away, the better. Nothing in my life makes me feel more alive. Nothing can even compare.

As a vegan, I often find myself speaking up against the human tendency to do harm for nothing but the pleasure it brings us. Vegans are quick to point out that your taste buds aren’t worth the death of another living being. But analysing my travel habits, I realise I’m no better than someone who just threw a steak on their plate, and the only reason I do it is because it makes me happy.

To get a professional’s perspective on this, I turned to one of the people I most admire: travel writer and sustainability advocate Nina Karnikowski. If I had to swap lives with someone, I’d probably pick Nina. A travel writer with a dizzying career spent exploring some of the world's most far-flung and exciting destinations, Nina has penned several inspiring books - and her most recent one, The Mindful Traveller, is one of my favourite reads of the year so far. It details her awakening to the effects of travel on the environment and her work to reduce her own impact - while maintaining her love for seeing the world. I’ve re-read some sections so frequently and felt so strongly about Nina’s writing that I felt compelled to reach out to her to ask about this conundrum. Here’s what she had to say:

“There was a time when I travelled constantly, chasing new horizons and collecting experiences. But over the years, I’ve come to realise that true connection isn’t found in constant movement but in slowing down. In returning to the places that have shaped me, and in deepening my relationship with them. Now, instead of a dozen trips a year, I take just a couple, making sure they are journeys of reciprocity where I give as much as I receive. I seek to support local communities, honour the wisdom of the people who call these places home and tread lightly, knowing that every journey leaves an imprint. Because the more intimately we know the world, the more we love it. And we protect what we love.”

Nina’s slower, more mindful approach is echoed by other travellers.

Claire at Backpacking Bella

describes it as “depth over distance, quality over quantity, and connection over consumption. Think long meals in a quiet neighbourhood restaurant. Sunset strolls instead of sunrise alarms. Experiences that linger in your soul, not just your social media feed.”

No, I didn’t take the train to Lisbon

I don’t believe that humans will ever stop travelling. Exploring is ingrained so deeply in some of us that asking us to give it up is akin to asking others not to procreate to help save the planet (which would also have a huge impact on the environment). As someone whose only dream is to become even more of an avid traveller than I am now, I can only admit that there are no excuses. I can only attest that I will indeed keep going. But there are some things that I can do to slightly - slightly! - lower my impact, such as:

• Always eat vegan on the road (as I do every day anyway) and never partake in attractions that use animals - here is why.

• Trying to ensure that my money goes into the hands of locals rather than big international chains.

• Step off the beaten path to avoid overtourism.

• Eat local foods rather than imported ones - a great way to get to know the local cuisine.

• Donate when I can - for example, during my most recent trip to Egypt, I learned about the stray dogs of Dahab and am now regularly donating to a shelter there.

You might notice that taking trains was not on this list. Indeed, it makes me laugh when people suggest taking the train instead of flying. In order to have a nuanced conversation, we need to be realistic and keep in mind factors like how many days’ holiday someone is able to take off work, and also remember that in many cases the train costs more than flying. The solution needs to be something that’s attainable and achievable, and for that to happen, we need to think of ways to overhaul flying. Sustainable aviation fuel is in fact being developed, and while it still has its growing pains, there is hope. But for the time being, those planes are still going to take off, and the Eurostar won’t stop them.

I’m also not kidding myself that things like bringing my own reusable water bottle or whatever makes any meaningful difference. Sure, we should do those things and yes, I do them. But the damage done by flying is so massive that a measly takeaway coffee cup will never come close. Personally, I prefer simply recognising that what I am doing is harmful and living with it rather than telling myself that my cotton tote bag is somehow making up for all my global gallivanting.

At the end of the day, awareness is key. The more aware we are of the issues we contribute to, the more we can come together as a society to solve them. As someone who loves the Earth with my whole heart, I want nothing more than to explore more ways to be part of the solution.

To close, I’d love to quote from Nina Karnikowski’s book The Mindful Traveller:

“I will continue to find my wild, even if it means confronting danger, because I refuse to armour myself against life or let fear corrode my spirit. I will continue searching for beautiful things and places that fill me with astonishment, because it is the only thing that resuscitates me when I’ve lost my breath. And because I know that if the planet needs anything, it is people who are mischievous and unafraid and full of awe – people who are free.”