Navigare necesse est

Having returned safely from our first trip abroad since 2020, I was struck by the clarity of vision with which I regarded our flat as I stepped into the hall, so familiar and welcoming, and yet, for a fraction of a second, like a place I saw for the first time. I appreciated the look of the black and white tiles on the floor and noticed the warm glow of the little light in the window, and I realised that I had forgotten one of the great pleasures of travel, coming home again after a good trip.

Much has been said about the negative environmental impact of transportation, of goods and people, and I agree fully that a serious change is needed. Among the (few) positive effects of Covid-19 have been not only an actual reduction in pollution from less transports taking place, but the lesson that so much of the business travel to meetings done in the past could easily be replaced with digital meetings. What I’m less optimistic about is our ability to continue the improved ways of doing things once the pandemic is over. We have already seen signs of people very quickly reverting to old habits whenever the restrictions are eased. That’s not surprising – but, I ask myself, shouldn’t we all think things through now, and try to build a better ‘new normal’, keeping only the good old habits, and incorporating some of the new things we’ve learnt.

Maybe the extra efforts required from those who fly in corona times serve the good purpose of reducing travel that is not essential. I believe we need to consider very carefully what are reasonable reasons for traveling long distances in the future, particularly those journeys that rely entirely on non-renewable resources. After all, flying to New York for a weekend probably won’t save a bad relationship anyway, and why take the family across the globe to spend a week by the poolside when the money could be used to put a gilded edge on the everyday life at home instead. And an old-fashioned camping holiday at cycling distance from home may be the most adventurous thing globetrotting kids could experience!

Maybe one shouldn’t go quite as far as I did once when I took my daughter and dog on a week’s horse and Western wagon trip in the wilderness up north. When I booked the holiday, I had this romantic image of me gently strolling alongside the wagon with the dog while Anna was in charge of the horse (she’s the only one with some riding experience – I’m rather afraid of horses). This picture was instantly shattered when we set out the first day – the horse we had been assigned was quite mad, trotting off in full speed, leaving me and dog hopelessly behind.

After Anna’s heroic, but futile attempts to make the horse move at a reasonable pace, the only solution was for me and dog to join Anna in the wagon and wait for the wild trotter to tire himself out. And then there were the mosquitos in the evenings, lots of them! So not quite the holiday of our dreams, but a unique experience, and something to laugh at, once we had arrived home unscathed.

I can think of three good reasons to travel: to be with someone you love and care for; to do good; and to learn something important. Even better if all these reasons are fulfilled in one trip! As a baseline, I’d suggest that each journey should be focused on going to something, rather than getting away, and be considered with an awareness of the real costs, including the environmental impact. But we all need to get out of our bubbles from time to time, so I don’t think a complete halt to all travel is the answer.

The last eighteen months or so Ralph and I have indeed lived in a bubble, like so many others across the globe. But ours has been fairly relaxed, and I have not suffered physically – since we have not had anything like a full-scale lockdown in Sweden, I have been able to continue my daily routine of a fast-paced morning walk throughout the pandemic, keeping my distance, but not wearing a face-cover. And I’ve been fortunate to have my daughter and grandchildren nearby. We have seen each other regularly, but mostly outdoors and at the prescribed distance. Of course I have missed the occasional cinema and concerts, but large crowds have never attracted me, so in that respect the restrictions imposed have not been a huge burden.

But not being able to be with all the people we love has been hard. Early on, I could not see my mum at all; she had just moved into a care home when Covid-19 struck, and no visits were allowed the first months. Later on, we could go and see her, but only with full cover of visor and face-masks, and behind a large glass pane, so no touching at all. I shall always remember her joy, and my relief, when it was finally allowed to give her a hug.

And how we have missed our English family and friends! It has been a long wait for us to be able to visit them in the UK. It was not until Ralph and I sat on the plane to London Heathrow that I felt that it was actually happening – we were able to fly again!

I am acutely aware that what has been ‘normal’ travelling habits for affluent westerners for many people on this earth is just another unattainable dream; and it was humbling to think that the multitude of more or less complex forms that we had to fill in before going from Sweden to the UK has been normal procedure for so many of the colleagues I have met at work meetings over the years, traveling between, and within continents.

I shall try to follow my own advice in the future, avoiding long distance travels unless I have a good reason. And no more flying to work meetings for me! But I shall not be ashamed of the occasional trip across the North Sea. The day when more environmentally friendly alternatives exist, I shall be happy to change my mode of transport, but I do want to see the important people in my life, our life, face to face once in a while. I’ve spent some time recently thinking about what really matters in life, and I agree with the columnist in my local paper who wrote that ‘all you need for a good life, apart from a roof over your head, and decent food, is family and close friends’.

My mother died in July, she was tired and, I think, ready to go. I miss her a lot, but it is a soft sadness, a lingering warmth in the thought of the interesting and capable woman I thank for my life, my upbringing and most of the values I live by. One of the best memories from my youth is my mother standing in the window when I went to school in the morning, waving at me as I left the house. When I turned around, having walked a bit further, she was still there, waving. She will always be with me, but like all people, she had a complexity and a depth that only she had the whole key to, so what I know of her is not the whole picture. And I regret that I did not ask her more about her life, her feelings, her wishes while she was still able to remember and express herself like she used to. So if you are fortunate enough to still have your parents around, do talk to them about things that matter, to them, and to you!

Navigare necesse est? I don’t agree with Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus who purportedly said that “it is necessary to sail, it is not necessary to live”. I think it is necessary to live, but not to sail. If he meant ‘navigate’ it is a slightly different matter – we do need to navigate, and navigate well, to live well.