Some of you may be looking forward to an idyllic ten days in London. Meanwhile, you want to do your bit to stave off the ravages of climate change. Instead of taking a taxi to the airport, take the bus.
Oh, there are no buses in your neck of Cairo at 2.30am and check-in is at 3am. And your flight is at 11am the next day. Typical! Besides, would you relish the prospect of struggling onto a friendly omnibus with three bulky pieces of luggage? You would not like your fellow passengers tutting disapprovingly as you hold up the vehicle. How about cycling to the airport? You could find one of those little trailer trucks to hitch to the saddle.
You know, one of those contraptions the doorman down the road uses to bring shopping for the tenants of his apartment block. Your luggage will probably weigh considerably more than three cartons of milk, an aerosol insecticide and a tray of eggs. All right, then, reduce your baggage and put only essential items in a knapsack.
If you put in too much, you risk falling onto your back and you will be waving your limbs like a stricken insect trying to right yourself. Yes, I know insects have six legs, but that’s beside the point. Didn’t you refer to your mother-in-law as “that old hexapod”? At least, that’s what it sounded like.
Now, you are pedalling on near-empty roads to the airport in the early hours of the morning. You feel self-righteous, smug and holier than those lesser mortals who whizz past you in taxis and the air-conditioned bus summoned by an app.
Wait a moment. Consider the bicycle you are riding. Think of the tonnes of carbon emissions that went into its making, the toxic fumes from the paint, and the energy used to refine the crude oil into the stuff that lubricates the moving parts.
You cannot allow yourself to be party to such an eco-outrage. Dismount and toss the offending machine to the side of the road and walk. Yes, walk.
An hour or so later, you catch a whiff of kerosene. The engines of an unseen aircraft whine as if champing at the bit. Yes, I am well aware that it is an odd turn of phrase.
A comparison is being made with an impatient horse that wants to start the race, as the Finnish proverb goes En ole hiljainen hevonen (I am not a calm horse). All right, I confess, I made that last bit up, but you need an interesting train of thought as you walk to the airport in the false dawn.
Stop. You intend to board an aeroplane? A flying machine that literally screams carbon emissions as it takes off, not to mention the stream of pollutants and carbon particles diffusing in the upper troposphere from Cairo to London Heathrow leaving small birds coughing and spluttering and falling out of the sky. You are not going anywhere courtesy of an aerofoil section, buster!
Now you are walking on the agricultural road to Alexandria. So much to see! The sweet smell of farm slurry! The traffic to dodge! Ditch the knapsack. All you need are your passport, money and tick— You might as well rip that up because you will not be needing it. You are getting exercise, you are not spending any money (You might return that ticket for a few piastres after they have deducted the penalties and management fees) and you are conserving the environment.
What’s not to like? By the way, did you have breakfast before you left? I expect you had coffee and overpriced cereal and homogenised white liquid that masquerades as milk, didn’t you? Did you not consider for one moment the carbon emissions resulting from the packaging, processing and transportation to your local supermarket? The electric kettle would make an eco-warrior train the barrel of his AK47 and fire. That would make short work of the kettle. You didn’t think you would be on the business end of a firearm, did you? Nope.
You’re off to London, the eco-friendly way. So, in order to play your pivotal role in putting the brakes on climate change, drink water. If you must eat, pull off a few ears of barley before the farmer chases you off his land.
Three days later, you reach Alexandria. You weren’t in any hurry, were you? Go to the Western Harbour and look for a large plank of wood and a stick. You didn’t think you would board a ship, did you? No, sunshine.
Most vessels are powered by diesel and that produces fumes and greenhouse gases. You cannot allow yourself to be party to the destruction of Mother Earth. We only have one planet at it is up to you (Yes, you!) to look after it single-handedly. When you have found a suitable plank, use the stick to make a mast. Use items of clothing for a makeshift sail. Sorry, I forgot, you threw away the knapsack. Well, you’ll have to use your T-shirt and get a suntan while the wind whisks you in an eco-friendly fashion to Piraeus or Antalya.
Don’t worry about the possibility of skin cancer, because the last time anyone mentioned the Ozone Layer was at half-past 1997. Fret not about melanoma, which derives from the Classical Greek melas meaning black, hence melancholy (black mood) and Melanesia (black islands with volcanic sandy beaches). Since your plank might take you to Greece, you can find out what they say for ‘black’ in the modern idiom. In fact, as you walk through Greece, you will have time to learn the local idiom. For a start, you can ask, Parakalo, ena potiri nero. (Please, a glass of water)
No, you can not use a rubber dinghy or even one of those inflatable horsey-things kids use at the beach. The plastic of the latter is an oil-based substance and the carbon emissions from its manufacture will perturb your conscience for months.
As for the dinghy, the bits are stuck together with vulcanising fluid, which gives off toxic fumes that will eat away at your lungs. Now push that plank out at the next low tide. You mean the difference between low and high tide on Egypt’s coast is a matter of 15 centimetres. Ha! Well, you should have thought of that before you decided to go all environment holier-than-thou.
A month later, you are sitting in Leicester Square, London. Your clothes are a trifle worn, your shoes are broken, and you are extremely tired and hungry. Nice tan, though.
Behind you is a huge sweet shop, but can you be sure that the chocolate-covered peanuts have the ‘fair trade’ logo on them? Otherwise, the big-name department stores have been mown out of human consciousness by the scythe of online shopping. You could buy a souvenir T-shirt with the legend: ‘Save Earth. Save yourself.’ On the back it reads: ‘But don’t go to extremes.’
