I used to fly around the world in all-expenses-paid luxury – but I couldn’t face my conscience | Carlton Reid

As a travel writer, I’m used to receiving invitations to five-star resorts in far-flung destinations such as the Seychelles, all expenses paid. But now I ignore these emails. I quit flying three years ago. I’m not afraid to fly; I stopped because of the climate crisis. In addition to travel, I write about green issues, and I decided I could no longer in good conscience specialise in sustainability while continuing to fly.

I was a late convert to the cause, taking a plane to Israel in 2020 to write about a Palestinian cycle advocacy group. A trip like that would be off limits to me today, even if peace broke out any time soon. It’s all but impossible to reach Israel from Europe without flying. It’s almost as tough to reach the Antipodes from the UK without a long-haul flight, so bang goes a quick-ish trip to New Zealand or Australia.

I could still get to North America if I waited for one of the monthly crossings on Cunard’s Queen Mary 2 to New York from Southampton, but I couldn’t get there in a rush: there and back would take two weeks (and tickets for paying travellers start at around £1,000, one way).

Quitting flying has undoubtedly shrunk my world. But I still do long-haul trips within Europe, using high-speed trains and slow-speed sleeper services. I also take to the water: I’ve written up train-and-ferry trips to Malta, Sardinia and Ibiza. I also crossed the Dover Strait on a test sail for a proposed wind-powered catamaran ferry from Dover to Boulogne.

And, somewhat surprisingly, my work hasn’t suffered. Without flying, I’ve still been able to file copy from the European Commission in Brussels, penned business stories from the Tour de France’s visit to Denmark and swanned around Sweden on a press launch for a new electric car. When I reported on the opening ceremony of the Cop26 climate conference in Glasgow in 2021, I cycled there from Newcastle. When I had to go back for the summit’s closing, I took the Caledonian Sleeper train from London.

But for all this eco street cred, I can’t help but feel I am a lousy flight-free advocate because I’m yet to convince my family to follow suit. Last year, my wife flew to Madeira without me (there are no ferries to the island), and at the time of writing this piece, our three millennial kids were on separate flight-based holidays in Belgium, Dubai and Greece.

When I moan, ever so gently, about their chosen mode of (planet-trashing) travel, they point out I’m a hypocrite because – and it’s true – I have spent a lifetime flying. Piqued by my holier-than-thou snarks, they argue I am in no position to lecture them. That is a fair point, and I put it to Maja Rosén, co-founder of We Stay on the Ground, who has not flown since 2008 and coordinates the worldwide “flight-free” movement.

“We need to be cutting emissions now,” she told me, but she couldn’t conjure an argument that worked with my family. “There are so many ways to explore the world without flying,” she tried, which is true, but that cuts no ice with those with itchy feet who can’t afford the sky-high prices of long-distance train travel.

Travelling by train instead of flying is also deemed by many to be “virtue signalling”. There’s even a new Swedish word for this: tagskryt – “train bragging” – to describe how some people, myself included, crow about their long-distance journeys by train when others fly. Because it’s quick, cheap and egalitarian, flying remains the done thing.

Might the digital nomad argument – the notion that you can work on trains – cut through? Probably not, and it’s oversold anyway. For all my ambitious plans to bang out article after article when travelling by rail, I tend to doom-scroll in much the same way I’d do up in the clouds. And the views from a train might be captivating in daylight, but rolling through Schleswig-Holstein at night is just as dull as traversing it from 30,000ft above.

I’m left with the best reason for not flying: it’s simply better for the planet. Yet, for all the evidence that flying is bad for our long-term survival as a species, those who seek to restrict jet-setting are seen as party poopers. So be it. I remain happy that I kicked the habit, but I can’t deny I miss the idea of travelling to far-flung destinations only accessible by plane. My solution: I’ve trained my inbox to junk the invitations.

• Carlton Reid is a freelance transport journalist