Connecting with nature: the low-carbon way

‘Low-carbon’: what does it really mean? Does it make you feel empowered to make lifestyle changes for nature, or under pressure?  Writer and science communicator Sophie Pavelle gives us a glimpse into her low-carbon journey around Britain in search of ten animals and habitats threatened by climate change in the 21st century for her debut book ‘Forget Me Not’.

Sophie Pavelle is a writer and science communicator. Sharing stories about British nature to wide audiences, she puts a contemporary twist on the natural history genre. Sophie is Communications and Campaigns Coordinator for Beaver Trust and presenter on their award-winning documentary Beavers Without Borders. She is also an Ambassador for The Wildlife Trusts and sits on the RSPB England Advisory Committee. Her writing has appeared in New Scientist, The Metro, BBC Countryfile, BBC Wildlife and Coast Magazines. Her first book Forget Me Not: finding the forgotten species of climate-change Britain is out now (Bloomsbury).

‘Low-carbon’: what does it really mean? Does it make you feel empowered to make lifestyle changes for nature, or under pressure? 

This conundrum whizzed around my mind as I began to plan the ten (rather ambitious during a pandemic!) low-carbon trips across Britain – which would form the narrative basis of Forget Me Not, my first book. Spilling inconvenient truths about the realities of climate change affecting rare species in Britain, whilst igniting action, joy and hope was the overall aim, and yet one key caveat stood in the way: how would I get there? Yes, taking to tarmac and driving to places like Sussex, North Wales, East Cornwall and the Cairngorms may well have been more convenient. It certainly would have fitted in around my job better, and been less of a logistical ballet. And yet I couldn’t accept the irony of writing a book about human-induced climate change, from the driver’s seat of my petrol car.

So, I took to the saddle of my beloved gravel bike, the seat of tens of trains, the rusty railing of an inter-island ferry, the sole of my battered old walking boots, and even an electric car: and set off to find some forgotten species, the low-carbon way.

Low-carbon as a motivation, not a rule

There’s a real difference to opting for the low-carbon option, versus the carbon neutral. ‘Low-carbon’ simply means less carbon dioxide – a key gas which is driving climate change. When hearing the news of climate-driven biodiversity loss, extreme weather and challenging living conditions, it’s easy to suddenly feel pressured to omit your carbon footprint altogether. I certainly toyed with the idea of challenging myself to make Forget Me Not a carbon neutral endeavour, soon experiencing quite how unachievable it was. Diesel trains and ferries, infinite hot drinks and days of time at the computer were my reality for a year of travelling, making me realise that my aim should evolve into an investigation. How feasible is low-carbon travel in Britain? Do we have sufficient infrastructure to meet the urgency for greener modes of transport? Is it an affordable, achievable option for the public?

I wanted to take the reader to landscapes which were totally accessible via public transport (and sometimes a bit of a cycle, or a walk). I needed the flexibility to take to the car when necessary – the restrictions of the pandemic and disruption to train services made this unavoidable in Wales and Scotland. For me, low-carbon travel quickly evolved into a motivation to do what we can to minimise our carbon footprint. It’s about normalising the option to take the bus, the train, your bike, or walk, before defaulting to the car, or even the plane.

 Sophie Pavelle with a bike on a beach

Credit: Sophie Pavelle

It's not the destination – it’s the thrill of the chase

Enjoyable low-carbon travel is a question of time and an acceptance of change. This rang true for the longest journey I undertook, from home in Exeter right the way up to Orkney’s northernmost isle: North Ronaldsay. Chapter five: a meaty mid-point for the book, in search of the black guillemot – the ‘tystie’ – a stunning, charismatic little seabird living a harsh life on Britain’s boulder shores. During one of the (plentiful) train journeys north, I noticed a quote printed onto the revolving train toilet doors from Scottish novelist,  Robert Louis Stevenson (of Treasure Island):

‘I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.’

We’re so used to getting from A to B as quickly as possible, that we’ve forgotten how rewarding the journey can be. As a novice naturalist, I needed this attitude - failing to find some of the species I was looking for was a given. Using annual leave from my job to travel and write, missing events with friends and families and being away at weekends, I lacked the time and budget to spend days at each location looking for the species. More often than not it turned into a quick in/out exercise.

And so travelling via low-carbon means became a real-time experiment. My planning, the weather and time were the variables, and the measurable outcome often being whether I could adapt to unforeseen changes. Yes, relying on timetables, cancellations and unpredictability often made the journeys longer, and more arduous. But I saw places, species and scenes from the windows of the Caledonian Sleeper Train, the trail of the South West Coast Path, or the stern of a ferry which would have remained hidden for me, had I opted for the more convenient option. I visibly felt my body relax, ironically relenting to this longer, seemingly more inconvenient journey. My lack of time at some locations afforded me more narrative room to explore the journey more, the history of the landscapes I would pass through. Now nearly 18 months on from the trips I took for Forget Me Not, I have subconsciously started to explore the low-carbon option first, when needing to travel. Often it doesn’t work out, or I don’t have time to spare for it, but it’s simply about giving it a go.

Have fun with it! Get creative

One of the most enjoyable parts of trying to vary the transport, was finding ways in which I could rope my friends and family along for the ride. In Chapter Four I took two of my best friends on a hot, hard but stunning hike along the Jurassic Coast, to a farm in East Devon which housed one of the last maternity roosts of Britain’s rarest bat: the grey long-eared. Chapter Six gave me the opportunity to borrow and electric car, and drive with another friend to Knepp, in Sussex. Low-carbon travel can be as adventurous or as simple as you like, but I relished the creative challenge it brings, as well as new, often shared experiences.

 Sophie Pavelle on a rocky beach at sunset

Credit: Sophie Pavelle

Look inwards

We live in a time where we need to act on courage, and dare to step outside our comfort zones in the hope that it might make a difference. Paris Agreements, Environment Acts and red tape aside, I see action for nature as a curious case of looking inwards, and celebrating how the individual achievable, little-and-often steps towards hope, amid life’s hustle and noise, can make a collective difference to the future of nature in Britain.

 

Sophie will be visiting Darts Farm for a guided walk and book signing for ‘Forget Me Not’ on the 9th July.

Buy tickets for the guided walk and talk (10-11am) – booking is essential

Find out more about the free reading and book signing (11am-4pm)

 

If you’re planning on visiting an RSPB reserve  - why not try travelling the low-carbon way? You can find details of how to travel to our reserves by bus, train or on foot in the ‘Plan your Visit’ section of our reserve pages!