A personal reflection on why this route matters

Journey to Zero isn’t about proving anything.

It isn’t about endurance for the sake of endurance, or pretending that cycling across Europe somehow solves the climate crisis. It’s about showing up, moving forward, and staying present with the reality of transition, both personal and collective.

This route, from London, to Brussels, to Munich, mirrors how the energy transition actually feels when you’re inside it.

Not dramatic.Not linear.But real.

Starting where ambition lives

We begin in London, my favourite city, but this year we hop, skip and jump straight to Brussels, where targets are written, and frameworks agreed. I spend a lot of my professional life around these conversations, policy, finance, strategy, and ambition. They matter. They set direction.

But they’re also abstract.

So we ride east, away from meeting rooms and into landscapes where transition stops being theoretical. Where solar and wind farms sit next to villages. Where battery storage quietly balances grids. Where recycling facilities, logistics hubs and factories turn yesterday’s assets into tomorrow’s materials.

This is where the transition becomes physical.

Solar, storage and the unseen work

Much of this journey passes through regions already powered by renewables,  places where solar generation is no longer novel, just normal. Panels aren’t symbols here; they’re infrastructure.

Battery energy storage doesn’t announce itself either. It just works. It absorbs excess. It smooths volatility. It keeps systems stable. Like many of the people doing the work, it’s largely invisible until it’s missing.

That feels important.

The energy transition isn’t driven by moments of applause. It’s driven by consistency, patience, and systems that quietly do their job every day.

Rivers, industry, and responsibility

Following the Rhine is intentional.

For centuries, this river powered industry, trade and growth, not all of it clean, not all of it fair. Today, it flows past wind, solar, electrified transport and increasingly circular supply chains.

This part of the route is flatter, calmer. It’s where reflection creeps in.

The transition isn’t about rejecting the past. It’s about taking responsibility for it and building something better from what already exists.

That’s where the circular economy really comes alive.

Recycling isn’t an afterthought here. It’s a bridge. Panels, batteries, turbines; they all have a second life if we choose to design for it. If we choose not to look away.

The harder middle

Leaving the Rhine, the route becomes more demanding. The climbs aren’t dramatic, but they keep coming. Legs get heavier. Focus matters again.

This is the part of the transition we don’t talk about enough.

After the excitement.After the commitments.Before the results.

It’s where complexity replaces optimism. Where trade-offs appear. Where progress feels slower than it should. Personally, it’s the part I recognise most, the tension between wanting change quickly and knowing it takes time.

Journey to Zero doesn’t avoid this phase. It rides straight through it.

Why this matters to me

I’ve spent years working in clean energy; solar, storage, recycling and I still sometimes feel like I don’t fully belong anywhere. Between industries. Between identities. Between who I am and who I’m expected to be.

This ride isn’t about masking that. It’s about acknowledging it.

Progress, in energy, in systems, in ourselves, rarely comes from pretending everything is fine. It comes from honesty, persistence and choosing to keep going even when the route isn’t smooth.

Arriving without pretending it’s finished

Munich and Intersolar aren’t the end because the job is done. It’s the end because it represents scale,  where solutions operate at pace, where systems integrate, and where impact becomes measurable.

The final day is short by design. Not a victory lap. More a reminder: arriving matters less than how you arrive.

With energy left.With clarity.With responsibility. It's back to work.

What Journey to Zero really stands for

• That transition is built day by day, not in headlines

• That solar, storage and recycling are not technologies; they’re commitments

• That circularity is about respect: for materials, for people, for the future

• That endurance matters more than intensity

• And that moving forward imperfectly is better than standing still, waiting for certainty

Journey to Zero isn’t a metaphor for change.

It’s what change actually feels like.

And this route, ordinary, human, quietly demanding,  is a reminder that the path to zero isn’t somewhere else.

It’s already under our wheels.