Expedition beautiful world from the Netherlands to Pakistan

It’s easy to feel guilty these days for loving the road. For turning the key of your old Land Rover and following the call of wide horizons. Many people believe that their car, their travel dreams, are the biggest burden on the climate. But after thirty years of working with farmers, consumers, engineers, and governments on real sustainability, I can tell you — this is not the problem. Or at least, it’s not the biggest one.

The real issues lie elsewhere. In how we heat our buildings, how we produce our food. That’s where we can make the difference. And that’s why I set off on this journey — not just to travel, but to share stories of projects, people, and places where solutions are already growing.

I called it the Expedition Beautiful World. From my home in Nijmegen, the Netherlands, all the way to the glaciers of Pakistan. Over 24,000 kilometers (14,913 miles), across mountains and deserts, sleeping in my 2008 Land Rover Defender 110 — a tough, reliable companion, converted into an overland camper. Powered by fossil-free blue diesel, made from industrial waste and used oils. A machine with parts that can still be reused after decades, while most new vehicles get redesigned every two years.

But this was not a trip to show off a vehicle. It was about the road itself — and what happens when you take the time to listen to the people who live along it.

The journey led me through the Netherlands, Croatia, Albania, Turkey, Iran, and into Pakistan. Along the way I met a lot of people who heat buildings not with cheap and resource-hungry systems, but with water-water heat pumps combined with PVT solar panels — a smart, quiet system that can heat buildings efficiently without gas, wood, or high electricity use.

These heat pumps draw warmth from outside air, through the PVT panels on the roof. These generate both electricity (PV) and heated fluid from the airflow through radiators behind them (Thermic). I’ve worked with these systems for years, and they create a local, reliable energy loop that works just as well on a townhouse as on big flats all over the world. By using these kinds of systems, we can reduce the need for large-scale solar fields, wind parks, and power grids — leaving more space for food, biodiversity, and life.

Everywhere I went, I also visited farmers. Not just any farmers — but those working on circular agriculture, trying to break out of the cycle of overproduction, overuse of land, and nutrient problems that threaten both soil and climate.

In the Dutch region of Gelderland, I spent time at farms where vegetable production is mixed with dairy, ice-making, care farms for the elderly, and even small tourism projects. These are farms that don't just produce food — they grow biodiversity, community, and care. In Brabant, I followed the work of farmers restoring entire brook catchment areas, bringing back nature where monoculture once ruled. Fields here are not just for profit, but for balance — between people, animals, and the land.

The further east I drove, the rougher the roads became. Through the Iranian deserts, the heat pressing down hard. Across the high passes of the Karakoram mountains, until the asphalt ran out and the journey continued on foot.

Here, in the shadow of the world's second-highest peak, I met the people of the Pari village, who have found a remarkable way to adapt to the changing climate. They build ice towers — simple structures of pipes and frames that collect and freeze glacial meltwater during winter, holding it in tall ice cones that melt slowly in summer, feeding their crops and reducing flood risks of rivers and seas.

It’s a powerful experience: high in the mountains, in a place where the effects of global warming are brutally clear, people are working with the elements, not against them.

These weren’t just photo stops. This expedition was about conversations — long talks with farmers, engineers, and scientists, often around kitchen tables or small campfires, not conference rooms.

And during these talks, one solution kept coming back — the idea of heating buildings with smarter, power-efficient systems like water-water heat pumps combined with PVT solar panels. A solution I had already seen working multiple times along my route, and in my everyday life.

I didn’t set out on this expedition to say that we should stop traveling. Or that we should all sit at home in the cold. Quite the opposite. I believe in freedom, movement, and the joy of seeing the world. But I also believe that we can do better — not by giving up the things we love, but by fixing the real issues.

The road to Pakistan taught me that real change comes from the ground up. From consumers and farmers who choose a different more independent way. From engineers who design and install with care. From travelers who take the time to listen, learn, and share.

It’s a Beautiful World out there. Let’s keep it that way!