The cognitive dissonance of flying

Or, the elephant in the room when it comes to slow travel

I’ve never really liked flying.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m incredibly grateful for the way that planes have opened up the world for so many of us, making trips that would have once seemed like a pipe dream much more accessible. But as someone who cares about the planet and is incredibly concerned about our rapidly heating climate, I can’t help but feel incredibly selfish every time I fly.

To complicate things: the two places I’ve called home, the UK and Aotearoa New Zealand, are about as far from each other as they could possibly be. At best, you’re looking at a 24 hour flight between the two, with a minimum of one stopover.

There are of course lots of alternatives to flying, one of my favourites being train travel. While UK trains are sadly expensive and often neglected, things are very different once you reach mainland Europe. During a train journey from my home town of Bristol to Stockholm, the most expensive part of the trip was getting from Bristol to London, a short hour and a half train.

For three years from 2022-2025, I didn’t step foot on a plane. I didn’t need to. I travelled to numerous different European cities by train which, while a little more expensive and a lot slower, was very enjoyable. I also explored the UK, visiting towns, mountains and stretches of coastline that I had never seen before. I’m a big believer in local travel, in getting to know the places on your doorstep. A holiday doesn’t have to mean somewhere far flung and tropical; sometimes the change of scenery you need is waiting just an hour away from home.

This is all to say that there are many places in the world that are easy to get to without flying. But sadly, New Zealand isn’t one of them.

I haven’t really explained why I’m back in New Zealand. Five years ago, in the glorious pre-pandemic days of 2019, my then-boyfriend of just nine months (James) accepted a job on a children’s tv show and flew out to New Zealand. I joined him six months later, and what followed was an incredible three years in this quiet, wild corner of the world. In 2022, we finally dragged ourselves away, flew back to the UK, and started putting down roots in Bristol.

But New Zealand was still in our system.

We talked about it all the time, missed it every day, even though we loved our lives in the UK. We started planning a visit - just a simple 1 month trip - to see our Kiwi friends again and get our fix of New Zealand scenery. Meanwhile, the tv show that first brought us here had started making a film and had been in contact with James, so we agreed to make our trip a little bit longer - three months in New Zealand sounded like an absolute dream. Which is where we our now.

To the surprise of none of our friend and family, New Zealand has reeled us in again. James (now my fiancé and partner of 7 years) has been offered a 6 month extension, which he’s accepted. I’ve been seeing steady improvements to my health (you can read about my journey with Long Covid/CFS here) and I’m slowly building up some photography work again. We’re renting our house out to a friend, who’s happy to stay until we’re back in December. It all feels like too good of an opportunity to miss.

But then, there’s the air travel of it all.

Not only are we bookending our time in New Zealand with that long flight, but we’re also travelling back to the UK for just a few weeks in May & June for a wedding, to see family, and to check up on our house. Which doesn’t feel very slow travel to me, and thus the cognitive dissonance sinks its claws in.

However. I spend a lot of my time thinking about the best ways to do things ethically and sustainably. I make a lot of my decisions based on what would be best for the environment. And while some environmentalists would disagree with me on this, I don’t think we all need to be cutting out air travel completely.

Do we need to be mindful of when and how we decide to fly? Yes. Should we take the train or other forms of public transport when they’re accessible? Absolutely. But I’m not going to beat myself up about flying every few years when those flights enable me to connect with places and people that mean so much to me - to catch up with old friends, meet their children and go to their weddings - even if they’re some of the longest flights you can take on this planet, and especially when those air miles add up to a tiny fraction of what some of the rich and famous clock each year.

I will, however, always seek to bring a slow travel ethos with me, no matter how I travel. Whether that means supporting local businesses, engaging deeply with the culture, using public transport when I can, or staying in a location for a longer stretch of time. For me, slow travel is all about moving away from an extractive form of travel, and towards one that fosters a deeper, more beneficial connection between the traveller and the place they’re visiting.

I know that there is by no means a straight forward answer here, and I’m acutely aware that my decision to fly in this instance is a selfish one. But it’s also not one that I make lightly.

How do you feel about air travel? I’d love to hear your thoughts on all of this, feel free to share them in the comments below.