I have been fortunate to see a fair bit of the world. Now climate guilt is growing over those flights

By Paula Thelwell

COMMERCIAL flying has shrunk the world to such an extent that travellers can be on the other side of the planet in around a day.

Trips to Pacific atolls, the Arctic and Antarctic continents, remote tundra, tropical jungles, mountain retreats and vast deserts are no longer the preserve of great adventurers seeking new landscapes.

Neither Covid-19 or post-pandemic chaos surrounding airlines, tour companies and airports seems to be deterring people from wanting to get away – to anywhere and hang the inconvenience.

Nor do those seeking the sun seem to give a toss about climate change and the carbon footprint seven-day cut-price breaks in some ghastly Costa del Cheapo rack up. Who cares if they punch another hole in the ozone layer as long as they get a tan, neck a few gallons of Sangria or the airline loses their luggage on the way home.

Give me a genteel British seaside resort any day, preferably with a quaint working harbour or a Victorian pier, and one that isn’t infested with amusement arcades, holiday camps and trailer parks.

I admit it, I am a bit of a holiday snob.

Yours truly has been fortunate to see a fair bit of the world. Now guilt is growing as to how flights across the Atlantic and around Europe and Russia – not forgetting five holidays in Australia – have done in contributing to global warming.

Living in Jersey until three years ago has not helped either, with so many essential trips to the UK by air and onwards to preserve my sanity by getting off the rock as frequently as the bank balance allowed. However, since March 2019 I have only flown twice.

Were, I would ask my younger self, all those shopping trips and popping over to London for parties really essential?

Of course they were. It’s what everyone did – and still does – even dreary Millennials and Gen-Z eco-zealots are not shy of a little dose of hypocrisy when having a bit of fun outweighs principles.

Have you seen the mountains of rubbish they leave behind at festivals?

The greatest joy of moving to the UK was being able to step out the front door and drive – and drive and drive – for hundreds of miles. As England, Scotland and Wales form an island I will eventually reach the sea but a darn sight longer than leaving Fauvic and stopping at L’Etacq.

No uncertain ferry journey, arriving green to the gills and suffering severe sea-sickness or exhausted after lengthy delays. If I don’t fancy a long drive I can let a train take the strain.

Or the tedious process of negotiating big city airports walking a mile to retrieve luggage – and then, in the case of visiting London, journeys in overcrowded trains and tubes or the prospect of a cab ride in congested traffic to an over-priced hotel.

There are hotels that tend to charge too much everywhere – including Jersey when I recently sought prices – but I don’t mind paying when the price is commensurate to the experience.

My travelling life was turned upside down in 1999 by a long weekend to Padstow to dine at Rick Stein’s then fledging culinary empire.

Being charmed by the stunning beauty of Cornwall and the Camel Estuary in particular set not just my direction of travel but my eventual move, along with many other Islanders, to the South-West and wider West Country.

I am doing my bit like every other Joe or Jo, to the best of my ability. I recycle, buy local and in season, rarely get anything new to wear – well apart from the obvious: underwear, hosiery and socks – as my go-to shop is eBay.

I rarely use a hose to water the garden and the lawn died six weeks ago.

Come summer, I take the South West Water challenge to save at least five litres a day, ignoring such irony from a company that is one of the worst polluters of waterways in the country.

Washing up water is used to flush the downstairs loo or water plants.

Before some valued reader starts rattling off a letter to the editor to chastise me for burning copious amounts of harmful fossil fuel as the miles spin to an ever greater number, consider your own carbon footprint.

If you never fly, take a bus or drive a car; only walk or cycle and spend all your holidays in the Island I salute you, you are an exemplary citizen of the world who is sacrificing so much to save the planet and selfish wasters such as I. Pat yourself on the back as you wait to be presented with a Nobel Prize or for the Pope to canonise you.

I understand the Vatican is fast-tracking such processes so you may get it sooner than expected but only after you have departed this mortal coil and had a few miracles attributed to you.

But hey ho, such is the rich tapestry of life and death and St Collette, the patron saint of recycling has rather a nice ring!

If you are that person, dear reader, please cast the first stone in my direction.

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