Bellamy has come under lots of criticism for his controversial views on climate change – he’s said previously that he doesn’t believe in man-made global warming, and that glaciers are actually advancing, not retreating.

I certainly don’t agree with him on this, but the Green Weekend was more about getting holidaymakers to spot birds and creepycrawlies so I didn’t like to bring it up. And the kids bloody loved him.

While we were chatting about wildlife, one of the main issues he described was way in which conifers have radically changed the British landscape and its biological make-up.

I was aware that conifers are not native to the UK, but hadn’t really appreciated how they came to be here and the threat they pose to our ecosystems, so I did a bit more research.

Apparently, just after the First World War, whole swathes of native woodland were chopped down to replace it with quick-growing conifers like the Sitka spruce from North America. We needed a ready supply of wooden pit props for use in coal-mining; at one point during the war, we’d almost run out of them and couldn’t import them because of the German blockade, and we couldn’t take that same risk again. So the Forestry Commission was set up, and quickly set about intensive tree farming of monoculture conifers.

The Independent’s Michael McCarthy says:

Over the hills of England, Wales and Scotland the great austere blocks of huddled conifers began to spread, 150,000 hectares by 1939, and then at a gathering pace after the Second World War: 310,000 hectares in the Fifties, 365,000 hectares in the Sixties. No matter that nobody liked it. No matter that much of our ancient broadleaved woodland, its value unrecognised, was being cut down at the same time. No matter that sites of beauty and conservation value were being swamped. The dark monoculture advanced remorselessly, until by 1980 the woodland cover of Britain, which in 1919 had been the lowest of any major European country, at less than 5% of the land, had doubled to over two million hectares.

The impact of this (apart from them looking so dark and ominous compared to our native broadleaved forests) is that it changed habitats for wildlife. Conifers don’t let light through to the forest floor. They have also been blamed for acidifying water - making some lakes and rivers un-liveable for fish.

David Bellamy’s answer is to cut down all the conifers and transform our landscape back to how it was a few thousand years ago; I’m not sure the Christmas tree industry would be too pleased.

He also emphasised how radically agriculture has changed the UK landscape. “All the best land is covered with cereals now – that’s why we don’t see bees and butterflies anymore,” he explained.

We also had a good discussion  about the need to get more young people into countryside careers. “Young people don’t know about or don’t want to be farmers and gamekeepers anymore,” he said.

Agriculture was certainly never on my radar as a potential career-path, and I can’t remember a single classmate for whom it was. The growth in sales of locally-sourced produce in the UK is enouraging, but with the number of young people going into agriculture on the decline, who’s going to grow it all? I’ll sit and eat my onions from Lincolnshire and spinach from Kent quite happily – but would I be happy to get out there and do the hard work?

David’s suggestion is some kind of national eco-service: “If I were prime minister, I’d make every child between school and university go and work in the countryside and learn how to look after it”, he says.

One of the six tennets of the RSPB’s ‘Letter To The Future” campaign is for the government to commit more money to getting school children out of the classroom and into the countryside and nature reserves to experience wildlife for themselves.

If so few young people are even familiar with the countryside, we  can’t be surprised if they don’t consider working in it to be a feasible career choice.

Joining a ‘veg box’ scheme has been on my list of green things I really ought to do for a couple of years but when I checked it out it seemed extremely restrictive – having to commit to the same thing every week, prohibitively expensive, or limited in what they offer.

But at the Camden Green Fair a few weeks back I visited the Farm Direct stall and their set-up is completely different.

You don’t have to order the same thing each time, and you don’t even have to place an order each week – perfect for me as I’m away such a lot. Also, they sell so much more than fruit and veg – they have meat, fish, cheese, fruit juice, bread, flowers, jams and more, with different options each week depending what they’ve sourced.

The depot is close to me in Holloway so I can go and pick it up if I can’t be in for delivery on a Saturday or Sunday. And though delivery normally costs £3.95, you get it free on your first order, and if you have a neighbour who’s also interested, they’ll deliver to you both for free. Apparently there’s someone else in my block of flats who’s already using the service so Farm Direct’s going to put me in touch with them.

Farm Direct is also much clearer on exactly where all of their produce has been sourced from, right down to the name of the farmer, unlike veg box pioneers Able & Cole who aren’t able to give you specifics. I loved reading that my minced lamb came from Nicola Bulgin’s Beatbush Organic Farm in Methwold, Norfolk; my chicken from Gill Wing’s Organic Farm in Sussex; my natural yoghurt from Chris Timotheou’s Dairy in Chalfont St Peter; my splendid rye loaf made by Matt Jones’ Flour Power City Bakery in Surrey Quays, London; spinach from Martin Mackey Ripple Farm Organics in Canterbury, and so on.

I’ve already had one salad using my rocket, cucumber and carrots and it was deeee-licious. They even threw in a bunch of dahlias for free as I had a promo code from the Fair!

But however much I’ve been impressed by the service and the quality of the produce they offered, I simply couldn’t justify it if it costs a lot more than I budget for. But I’ve just priced up what I’d normally have spent at Sainsbury’s and it’s barely any different.

In fact, the lamb, chicken and rocket came in cheaper. The total cost for the basket at Sainsbury’s would have been £17.39 (see pricing to the right).

For infinitely better quality produce, all locally-sourced, I paid just £18.36 with Farm Direct (see pricing below). And I didn’t have to struggle home on the bus with all my shopping bags!

There are still a few staples which I’ll have to go to the supermarket for – Ryvita, Actimel, tinned stuff and so on. But I’m hoping I might be able to stock up on these once a month since they aren’t perishable. Farm Direct also seems very open to new suggestions so I might put in a request for cottage cheese in case that’s something they can work on…

Inkaterra has some of the most exciting, sustainable hotels in Peru. It all started in the 1970s with Inkaterra Reserva Amazonica right in the Amazon jungle. Next were La Casona in Cusco, part of the super-luxury Relais & Chateaux collection, and Machu Picchu Pueblo Hotel right by Machu Picchu. Inkaterra has now launched another sister brand, ‘by Inkaterra’, which is slightly more affordable but retains the same eco credentials.

The hotel group has its very own research arm, the InkaTerra Association, and employs its own scientists – guests can help out too while staying there.

All the guides or ‘interpreters’ employed to give wildlife tours are local, and real experts. I know what a difference this can make – when I went backpacking in Peru we got totally ripped off. The guides who took us into the rainforest didn’t have a clue what they were looking at and I had to point out wildlife to my friend.

Across its various properties, Inkaterra has been responsible for the discovery of many new species of frogs and orchids and planted countless trees and restored other habitats. Machu Picchu Pueblo Hotel holds the record for the highest number of native orchid species found in their natural environment in the world!

With all this talk of sustainability, Bumpkin seemed a particularly appropriate choice for the press lunch – all of their produce comes from right here in the UK (except its olive oil – which we really do struggle to produce in this climate, apparently), right down to seasonal cocktails. I enjoyed a lovely duck breast with spring onion and tarragon cake. This does go against my Meat Free Monday efforts, but I didn’t have meat at all over the weekend so I reckon Sir Paul would forgive me?

Inspired by the lovely, locally-sourced salads on the menu at Bumpkin I came home this evening and vowed to have one more go at growing something for myself on the balcony. I know what I got wrong last time – the soil level was too low, so the lettucey shoots had to struggle too high to reach the sunlight and went all limp and wobbly and died. So I’ve topped the soil right up, and also sown just a fine row of seeds, as opposed to chucking in the whole packet like I did last time (also wrong, it would appear).

If it doesn’t work this time, those bloody troughs are going in the bin.

In other balcony news, we most definitely have some birds visiting the feeder now as the sunflower hearts have almost all gone. Wildlife triumph!

[This blog first appeared on greentraveller]

Scottish railway company ScotRail has teamed up with a local wildlife organisation to help passengers appreciate the wildlife along the River Tay and its estuary.

Holidaymakers and other customers on its Perth to Dundee and Montrose routes can now download a “Travelling along the Tay” leaflet from ScotRail’s website, which describes the different habitats that the railway passes through.

The River Tay and its estuary are rich in birdlife, and internationally recognised as a Special Protection Area and Special Area of Conservation. Species passengers might spot include pinkfoot and greylag geese, peregrine falcons, kittiwakes, puffins and the white-tailed sea eagle, which has recently been re-introduced to the area.

The Tayside Biodiversity Partnership reveals that it is not uncommon for seals to swim as far upstream as Perth, while in the tidal basin by Montrose station, arctic, common and little terns can be seen.

ScotRail’s John Yellowlees says travelling by rail is an excellent way to appreciate the area. “The shore-hugging stretch of route from Perth to Montrose has an exceptional continuity of habitat, with many perspectives that are unavailable from the road – and certainly not safely visible to the hard-pressed car driver,” he notes.

The wildlife leaflet is the latest in a series of guides designed to attract day-trippers and holidaymakers to the region. Earlier this year, five other illustrated downloadable guides were launched, highlighting the scenery, heritage and attractions of ScotRail’s Ayr to Stranraer line; Glasgow/Ayr-Carlisle line; and West Highland, Kyle and Far North Lines.

The West Highland line winning Wanderlust magazine’s Top Rail Journey in the World award the last two years, combined with these new guides, has helped boost awareness of rail holidays in the region, John added.

See: Train holiday to Edinburgh and Highlands & Islands.

For ideas of where to stay in Scotland, see greentraveller’s listings for: Green Accommodation in Scotland.

Despite a thorough explanation from instructor Derek on how to hold my paddle and how to slow down and change direction, I was still concerned about losing control and smashing up my kayak on the rocks. But Derek assured me the kayaks were practically indestructible. “You might hit into each other, though – the kayaks have got magnets in them,” he warned us.

I’d have thought magnets would make the kayaks heavier and slower, but didn’t like to question it; Derek Hairon is a sea-kayaking expert and wrote the world’s first book on the subject. His company, Jersey Kayak Adventures, has been guiding trips around Jersey’s rugged coast and nearby islands since 2004.

As we navigated through narrow gaps between rocks, I bumped apologetically into my fellow kayakers a few times but nobody seemed to mind. It seemed the magnets in my kayak were particularly strong.

The sea-level in Jersey rises and falls by up to 12 metres each tide, meaning you see different things each time you go out. Travelling by sea-kayak also means accessing whole stretches of the coast you never could on foot. Derek pointed out various bird species, and told us about Jersey’s natural history and geology as we paddled.

It was only as we peeled off our wetsuits at the end that Derek finally admitted he’d been pulling my leg about the magnets. I sensed I hadn’t been the first to fall for it.

But while he might joke about kayak magnetism, one thing Jersey Kayak Adventures takes very seriously is its environmental impact. Kayakers get a discount if they use public transport, and are encouraged to pick up any litter they spot and to drink from refillable bicycle bottles rather than buying bottled water.

There are other companies on Jersey that have shown a similar commitment. Jersey was the first destination in the world to gain Green Globe accreditation, and many hotels and attractions are signed up to the Green Tourism Business Scheme (GTBS).

La Mare Wine Estate is the only Gold award holder on the island, with eco-measures such as using discarded cooking oil as bio-fuel for the mini-bus and giving visitors a 5% discount if they use public transport to reach the estate. Jersey is on the same latitude as the Champagne region of France, so it enjoys an excellent grape-growing climate. La Mare produces not just award-winning wines but also cider, apple brandy, its own range of chocolates and to-die-for preserves.

Animal magic

Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust, founded by author and naturalist Gerald Durrell, holds a silver GTBS award. The Trust is involved in species conservation projects around the world, and “zoo” is something of a dirty word. Species at the centre include Andean bears, lemurs, tamarin monkeys and gorillas – you may remember TV footage from 1986 when a toddler fell into Durrell’s gorilla enclosure and the silverback sat next to the unconscious body to protect the boy from the other gorillas.

I went behind-the-scenes with a keeper to help prepare food for the family of seven orangutans. The wheelbarrow of shiny onions, leeks and cucumbers grown in Durrell’s own garden looked more like the Best In Show at a village fete than the scraps I’d imagined the animals might get. And it put me in the mind to try some local Jersey produce for myself…

Suma’s, the less formal sister restaurant to Longueville Manor hotel, is located on the waterfront in Gorey, overlooking the iconic Mont Orgueil Castle. I was spoilt for choice with brill, seabass, Royal Bay oysters, lobster and scallops caught off the very coast I’d explored by kayak the day before. Jersey asparagus and a bowl of the first Jersey Royals of the season were also mandatory.

In the last few years, the island’s cuisine has become an important selling point, and it is proud of its two Michelin stars and many AA rosettes. Marco Pierre White is to open a restaurant on St Helier’s waterfront next year, and the tourist board has recently tied up with Jamie Oliver’s Fifteen. Jamie’s trainee chefs flew to Jersey to learn about oyster farming and growing potatoes, and Jersey produce was then featured on the menu in the London restaurant.

The island’s culinary kudos, coupled with an expanding choice of adventure sports and events, is helping draw a new generation of holidaymakers. “Jersey is attracting a younger crowd now, and short breaks are growing fast,” says Premier Holidays marketing manager Emma Coteman.

This summer in particular, the ash cloud and British Airways crises have raised the profile of any destination easily reached by ferry instead of flying. “Once people experience Jersey and how much there is to see and do, they get drawn back again and again,” adds Emma.

I wonder if it might be something to do with those magnets?

[this feature first appeared in TTG]

The small island of Guernsey has inspired more than its fair share of creative types. Philippa Jacks explores the island’s literary links – and finds cycling an uphill struggle

Of all the ways you can cook a potato, a pie made of discarded, soggy peelings would not be my first choice. The particular pie in Mary Ann Shaffer’s The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society may be fictional, but in occupied Guernsey, this is exactly the kind of dish that was on the menu. There’s often talk of what would have happened “if Hitler had invaded England”, but it’s easy to forget that in Jersey and Guernsey, it actually happened.

The Germans bombed Guernsey’s capital St Peter Port in June 1940 and stayed there until Churchill announced the end of the Second World War in May 1945. Radios were banned, a curfew was enforced and 15,000 slave-workers were brought from eastern Europe to build bunkers and towers to defend the island. The occupying forces also commandeered food supplies, and at times, the islanders nearly starved to death.

When American bookshop-owner Mary Ann Shaffer visited Guernsey in the 1970s, she was so fascinated by stories of the German occupation that she wrote a novel set on the island. It tells a love story through letters exchanged by members of a book club – a club set up as cover for a hog-roast the locals have to conceal from the German army. The book has sold more then 1.3 million copies worldwide and film rights have been bought by Hollywood, which will bring an invasion of a very different kind to the island if it goes ahead.

My tour guide Gill Girard gets lots of re- quests for GLPPPS-themed tours, particularly from Americans. Our route took us down winding lanes and past postcard-perfect cot- tages and village greens: American tourists must think they’ve died and gone to quaint heaven when they came here. We spent a fascinating morning in German trenches and on windswept cliffs, visiting places that inspired the book and others of a wider historical significance. Gill’s own grandmother was evacuated during the war and real letters that she sent back to her family helped to bring the history alive for me.

Hugo’s there

Guernsey has other literary claims to fame: the island’s most famous inhabitant — apart from Formula 1 champion Jenson Button, who has just bought a house on Guernsey – was French author Victor Hugo, who wrote Notre Dame de Parisand Les Miserables. He came to the Channel Islands in exile in the 1850s but fell in love with Guernsey and stayed far longer than he had to. Hugo found the “coastline of mirages” a great inspiration, and he finished Les Miser- ableshere, as well as setting Toilers of the Sea on the island. His intriguingly-decorated Hauteville House is a popular tourist attraction and his poetic descriptions of the landscape are a wonderful legacy. Gill stopped to show me rock formations in which Hugo was the first to see a baboon and a camel. I agreed on the baboon but was less convinced by the camel. We also passed Moulin Huet, which inspired another Frenchman: impressionist Pierre-Auguste Renoir did a series of paint- ings of the bay while visiting in the 1880s.

On your bike

Having got our bearings on the tour with Gill, we felt ready to set off on a bicycle the following day. The Ruettes Tranquilles is a network of leafy lanes with a speed limit of 15mph where cyclists, horse-riders and walk- ers have the right of way. We kept to these where we could, but even Guernsey’s “main” roads are normally quiet.

Visit Guernsey did some research earlier this year which highlighted the importance that visitors place on “pottering”, and it is as rewarding to do this by bike as on foot. Getting anywhere took twice as long as expected because we came across jewellery workshops, art galleries and unmissable photo opportunities along the way. We had lunch at a kiosk on the beach and also picked up fruit from “hedge veg” stalls. Hedge veg is a local tradition whereby people leave fresh produce they can’t use in a box in the hedge, with an honesty-box for passers by to leave a payment in. A lovely idea, but I couldn’t see the honesty box last- ing long where I live in north London.

We came unstuck on our cycle journey home when, despite advice from Gill to avoid the centre of the island, we tried to cycle from the south-west coast to St Peter Port in the east. Guernsey may be small, but it is far from flat, we learned to our cost. In the end, we gave up pedalling and pushed the bikes for best part of two hours to get back to the hotel, hoping a passing car might take pity and give us a lift.

Where’s Jenson Button when you need him?

I was a guest of the Malaysia Tourist Board, which won Gold for its rainforest-inspired garden, designed by James Wong (off the Grow Your Own Drugs programme on TV).

The garden was really beautiful, with square stone slabs like stepping-stones on a shallow lake, and shiny foliage of different greens, shapes and textures.

I heard a few visitors grumble that there weren’t actually any flowers, but I loved it – much more to my taste than rows of rhodedendrons or pots of pansies.

A soundtrack of bird and animal noises played softly in the background and it was so relaxing I almost fell asleep on the Minister of
Tourism.

Dato Sri Dr Ng Yen Yen, the minister, told me all about the flowers in her own garden, and about the government’s plan to create a Malaysian version of the Royal Horticultural Society, to get more Malaysians involved in and excited by gardening.

I also had an interesting chat with James himself, about how gardeners often tend to want to grow species from far-away places, instead of appreciating what grows in their ‘own back yard’.

“When I was growing up in Malaysia, all I wanted to do was grow English roses and a perfect striped lawn,” he says. “They’d struggle against the climate. It’s only recently that Malaysians are realising there are so many things around them that are more beautiful than any rose. I hope we’ve shown that our normal plants can win gold on the world stage.”

This got me thinking about the impact of flying and shipping plants and trees from one side of the world to the other to make our gardens look pretty.  There’s often talk about ‘food miles’ but what about ‘plant miles’?

My other favourite gardens at the show included the Global Stone Bee-Friendly Garden, which had a giant message reminding visitors of Albert Einstein’s prophecy that ‘when the last bee disappears off the face of the earth, man only has four years to live” (see my earlier feature on the decline of the honey bee).

I also loved Bradstone Biodiversity Garden which had insect-friendly flowers and log-piles, and a stone pavilion with crevices for nesting birds and bamboo canes to house insects.

The Eden Project garden was huge, if a little bonkers, with rows of old washing machine doors. It did well in the competition but I wasn’t sure if buying the biggest plot of the Show might have anything to do with it.

I was also fascinated by the Naturally Norway garden which was promoting the use of kebony instead of tropical timber for decking and pavilions. Kebony is made using the byproducts of sugar-cane production to harden sustainable wood species like pine and maple, and it looked stunning.

I wasn’t convinced by the Daily Telegraph garden, which seemed to have gone for the overgrown, disused railway track look. I didn’t find it particularly, beautiful, relaxing or interesting but I must have missed the point as it was the overall winner for 2010. Shows what I know…..

I knew about the impact elephants can have, tearing down vegetation.

I’ve read about the impact of cattle and invasive species like cane toads and crown-of-thorns starfish too.

But it was news to me that the common carp is also a bad guy! Apparently they uproot vegetation and can majorly affect their environment. They spend millions of dollars a year trying to control populations in the Australia and the States.

If elephants, locusts, cattle and goats are the bad guys, then bats, birds and lizards are the good guys….or so a feature I spotted on Wired Science says.

Bats, birds and lizards eat insects, thereby protecting plants from being eaten by those insects.

If birds make plants more likely to grow, then perhaps it’s safe to deduce that not having birds means plants won’t grow.

Which could tie up the total lack of bird visitors to my balcony with my total failure to grow any plants and veggies on said balcony….

I made a brilliant job of hanging a lardy-cake and sunflower hearts over the handrail too!

Survey results released this week as part of National Ferry Fortnight (organised by the Passenger Shipping Association) reveal why passengers choose to travel by ferry instead of flying.

The convenience of taking their own car came out top, with 55% saying this was an important factor. The lack of luggage restrictions (i.e. the convenience of piling your car high with buckets and spades) was very important for 44% of passengers. I presume the Passenger Shipping Association didn’t have any green travellers onboard that day, as carbon footprint wasn’t mentioned at all!

This got me thinking about the convenience of travelling by ferry as a foot passenger and – since I’ve just visited Jersey and Guernsey – travelling from Poole to the Channel Islands in particular.

Car-free on the Channel Islands

It’s fairly easy to go car-free once you’ve reached the Channel Islands. The ferry terminals on both islands are a short walk from the town centre so you can easily hop onto a bus; there are comprehensive bus routes and timetables online for both Jersey and Guernsey. There are also bike hire centres just a few minutes walk from the ferry terminals on both islands, like Zebra Hire on the Esplanade in St Helier, Jersey.

My experience onboard both Condor Vitesse and Condor Express was excellent: both clean and fresh, with a small duty free shop, a kids’ room with TV, and a cafeteria. There were all the usual comforts of ferry travel over air travel, but travelling to and between the Channel Isles was a particular treat in terms of scenery – as we came into Guernsey’s St Peter Port at 7pm it was like a sunset island cruise.

The terminal on Jersey was impressive, with a good little restaurant, outdoor seating, and a souvenir shop/newsagent before you pass through security. Guernsey was less developed -  the shutters of the snack kiosk remained resolutely down the whole time we were waiting so we couldn’t even buy a drink. Still, playing pool while we waited was a novelty.

The most frustrating part of the journey as a foot passenger, however, was not on the islands but in Poole on the mainland. The transfer from Poole train station to Poole ferry terminal was a 20-25 minute walk which was no fun with heavy luggage and a short time-frame. We ended up having to jump in a taxi across town instead, costing an extra £7 and adding to the rush-hour traffic across the city.

Poole can’t help the fact that its station and ferry terminal are not closer together, but in Southampton they get around the problem by providing a free shuttle bus from Southampton Central train station to Red Funnel’s Town Quay ferry terminal.

I’d like to see the authorities in Poole show a similar commitment to helping people reach the Channel Islands car free.

Ferry travel may well be the convenient choice for those travelling by car – but how about making it easier for those of us who want to go on foot?

But a novel on global warming, by one of my all-time favourite authors, was too exciting to wait for in softback.

I was expecting Solar to tackle some of the political and moral questions surrounding climate change but in fact, this plays only a small part in the book. The main character, a Nobel-winning physicist named Michael Beard, happens upon a way to generate power by artificial photosynthesis of the sun’s energy.

McEwan has really done his homework on the science front – the process he describes sounds very convincing (I take it there’s no way this could really work?!).  But Beard actually doesn’t care about saving the planet, and the book focuses much more on the mishaps of his love-life and his stagnant career.

Beard is repulsive – a greedy, selfish slob who gets fatter and fatter throughout the book. He is the epitome of the consumptive lifestyle that has led to the world facing a climate crisis in the first place.

I’m not sure what it says about me as a reader, but with every new scene I hoped that he’d have lost weight and become more attractive, but he only consumes more and more. In descriptions of his childhood I tried unsuccessfully to find explanation of how he’d turned out to be the way he is.

I hoped that becoming a father might make him genuinely care about safeguarding the world in which his daughter will grow up, but it doesn’t. And I found it unbelievable that so many women should fall in love with such a grotesque man.

But despite detesting Beard, I could still appreciate McEwan’s  characterisation, and some of the book’s comic moments are enjoyable. Solar wasn’t as ‘un-put downable’ for me as other McEwan novels but it’s definitely worth a read (though I wish I hadn’t spent £18.99 on it). I just wish the photovoltaic theory McEwan has devised was for real!