Hope Part 4: 2034 - 2036

— 2034 —

My darling Joanna,

I'm writing this looking out the carriage window as dawn breaks over the Siberian tundra. The first rays of sunlight are glinting off the surface of a frozen lake that stretches as far as the eye can see. I can feel the regular rhythm of the train beating beneath me.

You lie sleeping only a few feet from me, and let me tell you, you look more beautiful than ever. I am writing using the fountain pen that we were given at the wedding. I am thinking of that day, so fresh in my mind, even though the Arctic wilderness seems a world away from the claustrophobic warmth of London.

I am hoping it will be many years before you read this. It's a silly idea: it's a letter for you to read after our 'first fight', when we are angry or frustrated with each other for whatever reason. It's to remind you just how much you mean to me, and, I hope, I to you. Because you are wonderful, and I feel intensely lucky to have found myself with you.

I also wanted to tell you about my admiration of your passion for the world we live in. I can't deny, when we first met, I was in a dark place, and the world seemed hostile and hopeless. Since then, you have opened my eyes to how the world, for all its faults, is slowly and tentatively becoming a better place to live.

And we are helping usher in this new world, and it brings me so much enthusiasm for the future. How consoling to know that the things we do, buy and eat are no longer destroying what we love. And it snowballs – just as we have been influenced by other people and each other, so we are influencing more too. Just for example, Fred has become an advocate of 'slow travel', because of conversations we started. Think of so many our friends that now have plant-based diets. It is a privilege to witness such changes, and most of all to play our own part.

The sunlight has just fallen on your face, and you are stirring, about to wake. We have a whole fortnight more of our honeymoon ahead of us, and I can't wait to share every moment with you. Here's to us, and to the future.

All my love, now and always,

Bertram

My love,

Two days ago, when I just waking up, I caught sight of you stashing away that fountain pen. I have known you for so many years now, that I knew exactly what you were doing. Maybe you have forgotten that you got the idea from that silly rom-com we watched on one of our first ever proper dates. I have an inkling what you wrote, so this is mine: my letter for the future.

I didn't find love for a long time, and it's still difficult to say exactly why. I was suspicious of intimacy; I grappled with my sense of self-worth; I was afraid of rejection and embarrassment. A mixture of these and more, I think, but one of the marvellous things about getting older is they all begin to fade. Then, when you came into my life, they all but vanished completely.

I have always rolled my eyes when people talk about 'the one', but when I met you, I sort of knew. I have never met a more gentle, kind and sensitive man. You are not afraid to be vulnerable, or to be candid. You care deeply about those around you and even those you have never met. And, of course, you take the most beautiful photographs.

I write this as you fetch us dinner from the restaurant carriage. I am in an odd mood, I guess: reflective, ruminative. I think this is brought on by the surroundings. I look out the window and see miles upon miles of conifers, punctuated by the odd river or ravine, then miles and miles more forest. No sign that people have ever been here, or ever will be. It's strange to think that our actions still influence such places. I have not given so much time to simply thinking, to simply existing, for years. I am glad to have found this space here, at this time, with you.

And that brings me on to what I think I love most about you: you make me a better person. There is so much to feel guilty about in this world, yet with you I feel empowered to make worthy decisions. Our allotment seems the perfect example of this: together, we have created something that feeds ourselves and others, that connects us to the natural world – the real world, you might say – and to the people around us. I feel less like a consumer and more like a citizen with every passing day – as do many others, of course, as the world changes, but none more so than I.

And with that, I will sign off. I am looking forward to spending many blissful moments with you, as well as the inevitable less-blissful ones, where I know I will still be in the best company possible.

With all my love,

Joanna.

— 2035 —

Hi Joanna, from Tokyo to Kyoto!

How are things there? I know we'll only be apart for a few days, but it would have felt strange not to write to you. Not about to start breaking the habit of a decade.

It was fantastic being with you for a few days here, seeing the sights and taking in the atmosphere. On all my travels, I have never found myself in Japan before, and it was a great pleasure to be with you for first impressions. Isn't it a beautiful culture!

Of course, since we parted ways, I've been focused on getting the pictures for this assignment. I'm recording all the interviews, just like you asked, so you should have plenty of material for putting the article together.

It's been a whistle-stop tour of all the main tech hubs in the city, of which there are a good number. The centres themselves are incredibly multicultural, which is a wise move when they're rolling out artificial intelligence software for the whole world. The 'holistic economy' AI they have been trialling in the Japanese government still seems to be standing tall, despite a few teething problems. It has been instructing them what projects to invest in, what energy sources to subsidise, what policies to put in place – all from the mouth of a machine! It seems accepted here already, but I do not know if it would take on in the western world. Some people do not like to be told what to do by anyone, let alone by a machine, but so many of our decisions follow the whims of technology anyway.

As many predicted, a big part of this governance AI has focused on regeneration and natural resources. It is reassuring to hear it supports several of the big global projects that have been going on for years. It advocates widespread tree planting (on condition that it is done with ecological expertise in mind), and also encourages a rapid transition away from imported fossil fuels and towards localised renewable energy. The machine is learning on the job, so should only become better and more sophisticated over time. What a time to be alive!

All the technology experts and computer scientists are very earnest, all eager to show me their projects, ranging from drones that measure air pollution to 'super-smart' energy meters that tell you when it's most efficient to run your appliances or charge your car. All very clever, and I'm sure a big part of the global transition.

Did you see that message I forwarded you from Noah? Sounds like Flop is misbehaving at home… I'm still not sure a house rabbit is a good 'trial pet', I must admit – he seems to need more attention than any cat, that's for sure. But I suppose we are committed now, and I concede that he is moderately adorable.

Anyway, let me know how the conference is going in Kyoto. I hope your suit didn't get too rumpled in your case!

Love,

Bertram xxx

Hi from Kyoto!

All's good here. The conference has a different tone from many. It's marking 30 years since the Kyoto Protocol was entered into force, arguably the first big piece of global environmental legislation. I don't think either of us were much involved in the eco scene at the time. Back then, many saw it as a bit of a damp squib, but there's no denying it set the wheels in motion for all the environmental advances we've seen since. So there's an air of celebration!

That being said, conference-style celebrations aren't the most fun. They're mostly long, self-congratulatory speeches from dull diplomats, about what's been achieved, how far we've come, etc etc etc. I'd personally prefer fewer words and more partying, but maybe that's just me.

There is also a 'renewal of vows' of sorts among the delegation, where they are all committing to maintaining or even strengthening their environmental obligations. For the first time I can remember, there seems to be hardly any argument over it at all. I suppose we are reaching the point where 'green' investments are starting to pay dividends, and easing off the throttle now could leave your nation in the dust.

There was one 'workshop' (as they like to call them) that I did enjoy in particular. They led a group of us from the conference centre into a cable car, which took us up a beautiful tree-lined mountain. There was a stunning Buddhist temple nearby that I wanted to visit, but we were there for another spiritual purpose: to partake in 'shinrin yoku', which translates as 'forest bathing'. It basically means spending time in nature, and we were certainly surrounded by it there. Even though we were all in conference attire, it somehow didn't feel so out of place. Like you said, Japan has been among the most eager nations to protect and grow its forests. Simply wonderful.

Back to reality – yes, I did get your message. I'm sure whatever tricks Flop is pulling, Noah can handle it. It'll do him good to inject a bit of responsibility in his life, too. He can't always have you and his brother looking out for him! And yes, Flop is adorable, and no I absolutely won't entertain the thought of taking him back.

Looking forward to being reunited soon – lots more of this wonderful country to explore!

All my love,

Joanna xxx

— 2036 —

Hi Joanna,

That was not a kind thing to spring on me just before I left for the US. Did you really think we could have a full-on discussion like that on the way to the airport? I have been stewing over it for the best part of the flight but thought I had best send a reply to you before I land and get immersed in the assignment.

Let me start with the usual banal stuff while I gather my thoughts. The plane seems fine, I don't think you had reason to worry really. I'm sitting by the window and can see the solar panels on the wings – they seem almost paper-thin, I presume to save weight. Then there are the batteries and biofuel as backup for when the sun's not shining. A real belt-and-braces approach, which can only be a good thing. I suppose tickets were cheap because the plane's barely beyond a prototype, and people are suspicious. We get the fuel stats on our screens during the flight: this one's been 87% solar-powered, which makes sense as we're above the clouds and it's bright sunshine. Pretty impressive. Fred loves a deal, as we know, but he has outdone himself here. Shame I cannot enjoy it properly.

Seeing as I will be going to the Corn Belt, I thought I had better do some research into biofuels before I land. A nice distraction, too. Turns out they have been a bit of a red herring for years: they take up vast amounts of land that could be used for food or forest, plus use plenty of fertiliser, pesticides and the rest of it. Not very 'green', it seems, but I still have more research to do.

Alright, back to what you actually want to hear about. First of all, I'm sorry if this is something you genuinely care about, and perhaps I should have picked up on it sooner. But I just don't see how adopting a child would fit into our lifestyles. We are both abroad so much, and adoptions take so much dedication that I just do not think we could afford to give. Plus, neither of us are exactly young. Do we really want to spend the last chapter of our careers raising somebody else's child? We can talk about it more when we get back, but I can't see it happening.

I will let you know how the assignment goes. I don't know how I am going to take compelling pictures of fields and fields of corn, but I'll try my best.

Love,

Bertram

Hi Bertram,

I think we need a proper discussion about the future when you're back. We haven't been communicating very well recently, and our priorities have got in a jumble. I see your point about lifestyle conflicts, but our lifestyles can change! We've been doing this same gig for decades now; don't you want to try something else? I know you have your own children, but it's something I have never been able to experience. We have had a great run, zipping all over the world, but isn't it about time we gave something back?

I was catching up with Christine the other day, and she was telling me about the news company she's started working for. It has got this 'Displaced Reality' project going for a couple of their employees on maternity leave. It's a bit like VR, except in the real world – basically you link up with a camera wherever you want to do a report. You have a helmet at home, and when you put it on it's like seeing through the camera's 'eyes'. The camera can go on drones, vehicles, all sorts of things if you want it to. Very immersive, and saves you having to trek halfway across the world, which to me is becoming a bit of a drag – plus not environmentally great, no matter how much offsetting we do. And you can still give interviews, take photographs and all that. So that could be something we could persuade Fred to look into.

I think there is more for you to explore about biofuels. Most of the land we grow biofuels on was once used to grow crops to feed livestock, but now with the global shift to a plant-based diet, the farms have changed their target market to biofuels. In fact, supply is outstripping demand, so lots of land is being left fallow. That's how all these big 'rewilding' projects have suddenly taken off. So I don't know if that makes biofuels a 'green' solution or not, but now that agricultural land is not in such high demand, maybe it's a good use of resources.

That was just an aside really – deflection from the conversation we need to have. I don't think I can say any more in writing. I'm not really in the right headspace to discuss adoption with you right now, and especially not over email. How about a video call in a few days, when we've both had some time to take a step back?

Love,

Joanna x