Holly Hughes talks to a man on a no-fly mission around the globe, thinking of creative ways to reduce his carbon footprint…
At the start of 2023, Sacha Shaw, an environmental researcher and journalist, packed up his life in Australia to emigrate to Canada. His goal: to traverse the 15,000km between Melbourne and Manitoba without flying. When I speak to him, 18 months into an odyssey that has seen him ride almost every conceivable mode of transport (apart from a plane) through more countries than I can coherently list, he’s at a bus shelter somewhere between Serbia and Albania, heading west: “I’d hate to imagine how many hours I’ve spent on a bus,” he laughs.
As I write, I too am preparing to leave Australia. In fact, I discovered Sacha’s story while googling how to get home to Ireland without flying. Having been unsuccessful in securing passage on a cargo ship (Sacha later tells me that potato ships are easiest to get onto!), I was fascinated by what Sacha was doing. His journey was a potent reminder of the ingenious and creative ways we can reduce our carbon footprint. Yet the immensity of Sacha’s undertaking flabbergasts me – how does one even begin to pack or plan for such a sprawling adventure? How does it work geographically, logistically, financially? And how can I possibly replicate it?
“You can’t really plan far ahead because so much can and does go wrong,” Sacha says. “Borders shift, visa policies change, so you’ve got to be flexible to make the most of what’s in front of you. I’ll plan maybe a couple of days ahead, with usually a larger plan, like changing countries, in mind.”
Sacha began by bussing and hitchhiking his way up to Darwin in Australia’s Northern Territory. He’d spent four years saving for this trip, and had just under $40,000 (that’s approximately €25,000), to get him to Canada. He’s in the single thousands now. “I haven’t budgeted too tightly; I’m sure there are people who could travel with a lot less.” He still reckons, per country, it’s cheaper than flying.
“We live in a world made up of the kindness and willingness of strangers to help each other, though that can be very easily forgotten.”
While getting to Darwin was a journey in and of itself, it was getting out of there and into international waters where the adventure really took off. “I was in Darwin for about a month trying to find a boat to get me out. I kept going down to the marina pub where all the fisherfolk hung out and asking everyone if they knew someone heading north. Eventually, I put up a ‘lost dog’ sign with my photo on it and a caption saying, “Are you going north?” It took a few weeks, but finally someone called who was sailing to Indonesia and looking for crew. And that was it!”
The resulting eight days sailing for Timor-Leste were hair-raising: engine failures, a storm resulting in an emergency rescue and the formidable feeling of being completely adrift at sea, with no land in sight, remain the most intense moments of Sacha’s expedition. From there, it got easier. Island-hopping through the archipelago in Indonesia, Sacha travelled up to Singapore before making his way through Malaysia, Thailand, Laos, China, Tibet, Nepal, northern India, Pakistan, Iran, the United Arab Emirates, Turkey, and into Europe. His modes of transport? A mixture of ferries, passenger ships, trains, buses, motorbikes and hitchhiking. “You adjust to the particular mode of transport of the country,” he tells me. “In Indonesia, for example, most people travel by boat due to the layout of the islands. I really like travelling that way. It’s haphazard but I find it quite fun!”
Of course, there were blunders. Perhaps Sacha’s biggest was thinking he could cross the Red Sea into Egypt and from there get to the Mediterranean. It was only when he got to Saudi Arabia that he discovered the ferry didn’t run any longer and few ships were sailing (Yemeni fighters were attacking boats crossing the Suez Canal). “Whoops!” he says. “So I basically had to U-turn back to the UAE and get to Europe by going through Iran and then Turkey.” These border crossings have been the most challenging. “I’ve been roughed up and threatened many times. Leaving China, my books were translated and searched for pro-Tibetan sentiment; photos were erased in Iran; and, worse, at the Iran-Turkish border, a security officer was convinced my anti-HIV medication was ecstasy.” (Homosexuality is a crime punishable by death in Iran.) Travelling from Pakistan into Iran, Sacha was given a “security escort”: an officer who, AK-47 at the ready, sat ominously behind him for the twelve-hour bus crossing.
For many of us, this might sound less like an adventure and more like a nightmare. However, I am omitting the best part: people. “The common thread throughout my travels is the kindness of strangers,” Sacha says, when I ask him for standout moments – experiencing the true taste of Sichuan pepper in China and fresh-caught fish in a Kupang market also feature. “I was given so many lifts on the back of motorbikes in Timor-Leste; a woman bought my bus fare in Singapore when I’d just arrived and didn’t have the right currency; a whole train car in China helped me when my phone wasn’t working. We live in a world made up of the kindness and willingness of strangers to help each other, though that can very easily be forgotten.”
Air travel can help us forget, says Sacha. “Planes often airdrop you past the difficult parts, so you skip over the moment when you need people. It’s humbling, and completely heartwarming, to know people (more or less) have your back.” I ask Sacha what will happen when he reaches Canada and this epic odyssey ends – will he ever fly again? “I probably will, but only when absolutely necessary,” is his reply.
While most of us can’t afford the time or money to commit to a quest like Sacha’s, the truth is there are ways to incorporate his bravery into how we all move through the world. Sacha reminds me: “People have been travelling the world and living fulfilled lives without planes for thousands of years! I’m not saying it’s easy or right for everybody but even if it means cutting out flying for a portion of your journey, I say do it. Confidence is like a muscle and to build it, you need to use it. To encourage anyone playing around with the idea, I say, remember you don’t have to cross the whole globe in one go. All you have to do is be brave and jump on that long haul bus!”
Before we hang up, I ask Sacha for one last bit of advice. “This isn’t advice,” he says, “but it’s something I’ve found inspiring. You hear a lot of talk about how small the world is. However, from where I stand and from what I’ve experienced on this trip, I believe the world is immense. It’s been a wonderful realisation – a gift.” I agree. The world is immense. It’s an infinite playground of adventure that is ours to explore. And ours to protect. @holly_hughes_words