As a 29-year-old non-binary, gay solo traveller, my journey across Europe has always been about more than ticking destinations off a list. It’s been about connection—connection with nature, with culture, and with myself. From hiking alone through the hauntingly beautiful highlands of Scotland to standing in awe beneath Iceland’s cascading waterfalls, I’ve felt most alive in places where nature is raw and untouched. These experiences have instilled in me a deep reverence for our planet, and with it, a growing sense of responsibility.
This August, I’ll be attending a four-week summer school placement in Siena, Italy—an opportunity that excites me not just for the academic enrichment, but for the chance to travel with greater intention. As I prepare, sustainability is front of mind. I’m reflecting not just on where I go, but how I go. Travel, after all, can either contribute to environmental strain or become a quiet act of stewardship.
One of the first steps I’ve taken is opting for train travel where possible. I’ve chosen to make the journey to Siena predominantly by rail, weaving through Europe’s landscapes with a lower carbon footprint than flying. I know this choice takes more time, but for me, that’s part of the reward—slower travel offers deeper immersion and less environmental cost. I’ll pack light, bring a reusable water bottle and coffee cup, and stay in locally-owned accommodations that prioritize eco-friendly practices.
Aligning with the UN Sustainable Development Goals—particularly Goals 12 (Responsible Consumption and Production) and 13 (Climate Action)—means making conscious decisions daily. During my stay in Siena, I plan to shop at local markets, support plant-based and low-impact foods, and avoid fast fashion or unnecessary consumption. I’ll also look for opportunities to engage with local sustainability initiatives or workshops, to learn how Italy is addressing environmental challenges on the ground.
As a queer traveller, I’ve also become aware of the importance of supporting inclusive, ethical tourism. I seek out LGBTQ+-friendly spaces, not just for my own comfort, but to uplift businesses and communities that promote diversity and equity—another form of sustainable travel that often goes overlooked.
My approach isn’t perfect. I still fly when necessary, and I’m learning as I go. But sustainability, to me, isn’t about rigid rules—it’s about evolving awareness and intention. It’s about asking, “How can I give more than I take?”
Looking back on the mossy silence of Iceland’s lava fields or the windswept cliffs of Skye, I’m reminded that these places endure only if we protect them. My travels have given me so much—a sense of identity, resilience, and awe. Now it’s my turn to give back, starting with this placement in Siena. I want my footprints—literal and metaphorical—to leave as little impact as possible, so that others, too, can follow the path of wonder without leaving behind a trail of harm.
