A somewhat lengthy title... I could have simply written: from Bangkok to Chiang Rai, via Chiang Mai, since that was my route. But when poets embellish our travel journals with their verbal flourishes, you’ve got to try not to be too ordinary.
Skyscrapers of excess? You’ll have gathered that from the photo illustrating this journal—though it might change as the trip goes on.
The excess of markets—not so much in their size, though... Chatuchak... But in their sheer number. Day markets, night markets, floating markets, fresh produce markets, fish markets, meat markets, spice markets, fabric markets... and even... amulet markets... For luck, good fortune, protection.
Not to mention, sadly, the market for girls—and boys, incidentally. I’ve even heard they’re displayed in windows. I’ve heard about that one, like you have, but I didn’t set foot in it, so I can’t say anything about it. Some even claim there’s a black-market trade in children. Disgusting! It reminded me of the book *The Parcel* by Anosh Irani, which I recommended in another journal. The story is set in India, but I’ve been told it exists in Thailand too.
So, the "famous Thai markets" we’re bombarded with in paper and online guides—sure, they amazed me in the first few days, and I don’t regret visiting them. But no matter how big they were, I quickly got my fill since you saw the same things at every stall...
I had a market overdose.
Excess of tourism? I should say *tourists*, since I saw them literally swarming in the streets and those famous markets. I’d forgotten about them. I’d lost the habit, living in an Indian city for so long...
Waterfalls are a bit like markets. At this time of year, they’re not particularly spectacular, but they’re everywhere. There are the ones everyone goes to see. For example, Erawan, which I decided to skip even though it was in my original itinerary—I guessed it’d be a nightmare with the selfie circus. On the other hand, you come across them all over the place, hidden in the mountains and forests, not listed in any guide. Not to mention the ones you can find in temples or even private homes... Yes, really! Thais love waterfalls, so they install them in their gardens—and I even saw one in the middle of the city, right on the street! Sometimes they’re tiny, but very photogenic.
But what do ice cubes have to do with this? Why the excess of ice cubes?
Not only are they everywhere by the ton, but they put them in *everything* you drink. You’d think they’d even put them in soup! And it’s not just one or two ice cubes—no! They fill the container to the brim, whatever it is, then pour the liquid on top to fill the gaps.
They’ll make you an excellent coffee right in front of you, piping hot, then—bam! An avalanche of ice cubes in the glass. Okay, I’m exaggerating a little. They *do* sometimes ask if you prefer your coffee—or tea—hot.
Everything edible, and especially everything drinkable, is refrigerated: vegetables, fruit, hot drinks (I mean, drinks that are *usually* hot), but meat and fish are left out in the open. They just wave a little whisk to shoo away the flies when they get too eager.
Mind you, I never put fruit, cheese, eggs, or water in the fridge in France, but I do in India. And I refrigerate meat and fish too... Though sometimes one of those little flies sneaks into the fridge...
You won’t find practical or technical details in this journal, like addresses or prices. Others do that better than me. You also won’t find the names of obscure or unknown places I discovered, or directions to get there.
I don’t really feel like recounting what I saw day by day, following my schedule and route. There might be flashbacks, projections into the future. It’ll depend on my memories, what I felt, what I hated, what comes back to me—and maybe your questions and our exchanges.
And for those who’ve never read me before, you’ll have to get used to my parentheses and digressions, maybe on a completely different subject, as my thoughts wander. Stories within stories. There’ll also be long, endless sentences—but still punctuated, so you can follow along. Though I used to curse Proust and his sentences that started on one page and ended on the next, sometimes even further. I’d have to reread them twenty times to follow and understand what he was saying. I hated Proust. But hey, I was 20. Maybe I’d like him now?
See? The digressions are starting already. Forgive me.
You’ll find few photos here. First, the number is limited, and second, photos aren’t the main purpose of either VF or a travel journal. They’re too often used to mask the poverty of the text. And, sorry to say it, but so many of them are just plain ugly!
If you really want to see photos, I’ll share some links where you can browse them at your leisure
When someone suggested I go to India nearly 20 years ago, I replied: "It’s really the last country I’d ever want to visit!" But after they kept showing me the beautiful side from every angle, I caved! I fell head over heels in love—even at the risk of my life.
Turandot. Ring any bells?
It was the same with Thailand.
- I’ll never set foot in Thailand!
I had so many preconceptions... I imagined it as too clean, some kind of sanitized tourism, as I used to say. Those stunning beaches with turquoise waters seemed boring to me. I’d already experienced *my* beaches—secret ones—in Guadeloupe. Because for me, back then, that’s what Thailand was: just beaches. And then there was that stupid rivalry between the pro-India and pro-Thailand crowds. I heard so many arguments from the latter that I didn’t appreciate, justifying their enthusiasm! I couldn’t stand their criticisms of India, which had completely captivated me. I felt like a traitorous lover if I went to Thailand. And then, shame on me, I worried about what people would say. Me, who had adopted my grandmother’s "philosophy"—a very old Spanish woman from the Balearic Islands, a bit rough around the edges: "Whoever talks behind my back is talking to my ass." (She didn’t actually say *ass*.)
What would people think: my family, especially my kids, my friends, my neighbors. An old man traveling alone to Thailand... You can guess why.
And it’s funny because recently, a friend from VF—*a real friend*, I’d say—barely 40 years old (I’ve made some truly great friends in real life after meeting them in the "vir...tual life," as Kola put it), told me:
- I’d never dare go to Thailand because of its reputation.
And I played dumb:
- Oh really? What’s Thailand’s reputation?
He took my question literally:
- The girls!
I died laughing.
But in 2025, when it came time to leave India after those damn 90 consecutive days max, I wasn’t thinking the same way anymore. And then I thought: Sri Lanka didn’t really do it for me. Nepal, I’ve loved multiple times, but it’s just too cold there in December/January. Bali last year was great, but I didn’t get to enjoy it much because of the torrential rains at that time. Go back to France? Too expensive, and then there’s the cold—no way!
What an interesting and addictive writing style.
What a pleasure to rediscover a country I know so well through someone else’s eyes.
The man of character shines through immediately, along with the man of direct speech.
Don’t hesitate to add a few more photos than planned—they won’t detract from your point. It’d be a shame after taking so many.
I was so impatient to see this!!
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Don’t hesitate to add a few more photos than planned—they won’t detract from your point.
My title was changed without my knowledge, and it no longer has anything to do with what I was saying. My original title was:
"Skyscrapers, markets, ice, tourism, and waterfalls... Thailand's extravagance"
Why talk about wandering and digressions when I was specifically discussing the thought process behind planning my itinerary and trip? "Wandering" is really pejorative and judgmental—it’s the complete opposite of "thoughtful." My travel plan was carefully considered; I didn’t decide on a whim or randomly. Quite the opposite!
With a title like that, everything I’ve said and intend to share is completely misrepresented. The title doesn’t reflect—at all—what I’ve written or will write, and it won’t make sense with the rest of my story. I’ve already written several pages, but I wasn’t going to publish them all at once. With a title like that, I sound like some lost soul!
Actually, these first few pages are just the INTRODUCTION to my travel journal, which I’m crafting as a literary piece.
It was precisely through reflection, wisdom, hesitation, weighing the pros and cons, etc., that I was able to have the amazing trip I was about to recount. The exact opposite of wandering and digressions. I didn’t just charge in blindly—I took a very personal journey at my own pace, and I’m returning dazzled, ready to share it all.
Another AI blunder—I did say we should be wary of it
Seriously, whoever made that call could’ve at least given you a heads-up.
But we all know, Jean-Marie, that the real magic of your stories lies far beyond the title.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Apart from the fact that I’m surprised VF took the liberty of changing the title of this travel journal, which wasn’t at all objectionable, I also find this edit distorting and quite pejorative. While the original title was quite clear, it now gives the impression of the ramblings of a traveler who’s not quite all there, lost in their travel delusions and memories.
Yet, I think this journal’s opening is wonderfully well-written. Sure, it goes against the grain of the travel journals we’re used to reading, but it’s ultimately more interesting. And not at all delusional—just approached from a different angle.
Thanks to the mods for restoring my title. Sure, it’s unusual and might raise eyebrows, but that’s exactly why I wanted it to be intriguing—enough to make people curious and check out what’s written.
And then, "La Thaïlande de la démesure" has a nuance that "la démesure de la Thaïlande" doesn’t. Just like "un grand homme" doesn’t mean the same as "un homme grand," or "avoir un certain âge" vs. "un âge certain"—and so many other turns of phrase. I love the richness of the French language.
As for "errances," it perfectly captured a pejorative sense, like ramblings or wild ideas. I’m not naive or clueless. And I’m not the only one who interpreted it that way—Pagaljavab got it too.
As for digressions in a travel story, they’re nothing like the ones implied in the changed title.
Alright, shall we move on? The critiques and comments are coming in hot…
Come on! Shovel some coal into the locomotive! !
Don’t hesitate to add a few more photos than planned—they won’t detract from your post.
It’d be a shame after taking so many.
Alright, sir.
So I’ll try to attach more, but I’ll delete them after a few days to avoid cluttering my photo account. The issue is that right now I’m working on the text, which takes hours—digging through memories, finding the right words… And I don’t have time to pick the best photos yet.
I’ll be following this travel journal closely—just to see if, like me between Bangkok, Chiang Mai, and Chiang Rai (and their surrounding areas, which I know just a tiny tiny tiny bit), you’ve bypassed some of the must-sees to discover where there’s nothing to see 🙂
Plus, I love reading when it’s well-written and when there are no photos, so…
un chemin et la caresse du vent, alors je pars en voyage...
I’ll be following this travel journal closely—just to see if, like me between Bangkok, Chiang Mai, and Chiang Rai (and their surrounding areas, which I know just a tiny tiny tiny bit), you’ve bypassed some must-sees (not all, of course) to discover places where there’s ‘nothing to see’
Still, since I like to form my own opinions, there are a number of must-sees I didn’t skip—precisely because they *are* must-sees ;). And others I thought were "off the beaten path," to use the now-standard phrase, but really weren’t. Or more accurately, they *used* to be, until they got "recommended" left and right without much thought. A few times, I was unpleasantly surprised to find crowds where I expected to be alone. But I also ended up alone in spots where I’d normally expect crowds. Though, careful—I’m getting ahead of myself here.
Crowds or no crowds, excess or not, I’m coming back with a ton of images burned into my memory and so much happiness and emotion in my head. And that’s what makes a trip successful!
Thanks for the link to your travel journal on mine, Jean Marie. I hadn’t noticed you’d started sharing your Thailand trip! 👍
I don’t say this too loudly, but out of all the countries I’ve visited in my life, Thailand is the only one I really didn’t like!
I have to admit, I went there AFTER visiting almost every other Southeast Asian country—when I should’ve gone BEFORE!
Plus, I was in Karnataka in April and then Thailand in September (this was back in 2011), and the contrast was just too much for me in terms of tourist pressure and how welcoming the locals were. I really missed the curiosity of the Indians—Thais just couldn’t have cared less about us 😅 (which is totally understandable given how many Westerners pass through there!).
But I’ll definitely be following your journal with interest.
Christelle
Le monde est comme un miroir, si tu lui souris, il te sourit aussi!
Hi Christelle, and thanks for following my travel journal!
I really missed the curiosity of Indians because the Thais couldn’t care less about us
Well, for me it’s the complete opposite!!! Haha! I really appreciated the Thais’ discretion, and the awful curiosity/nosiness of Indians drove me crazy as soon as I arrived at Bangalore airport, and it continues daily here. Just this morning, an Indian guy who I replied to: "What’s it to you?" in French, but from my look, I think he got the message loud and clear.
I totally agree with you, Solène, that Thailand is the country we liked the least out of all the ones we visited in Asia.
Still, we went up north, near the border with Laos, in the villages along the Mekong, and we have really fond memories of that. If I ever go back to Thailand, that’s where I’ll head first...
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
I hear a lot of tourists asking questions about consuming ice cubes in Thailand. Many people are afraid of getting sick during their stay.
Personally, I’ve had them everywhere I’ve been and never had a problem.
I found all the answers in this article: https://www.ouiauparadis.com/glacons-thailande/glacons-en-thailande/
Just to be clear, that wasn’t my point at all. Thanks
I just realized tonight that there’s a big omission in my list—one that really carries some weight. Because it’s excess on top of excess. How could I have forgotten it?
Hi Anne, and thanks for following my travel journal
I completely agree with you, Solène, that Thailand is the country we liked the least of all the ones we visited in Asia.
Before I continue, could you elaborate? Why didn’t you like it? Where did you go? How long did you spend in the different places you stayed?
Hey Jean-Marie, we went to Thailand in 2017 after spending a month in Myanmar. We stayed in Thailand for a month.
If we liked it less, it was because of the number of Western tourists... When we arrived in Chiang Mai, it felt like stepping out of the Paris metro with crowds on the sidewalks. Coming from Myanmar, it was quite a shock! We crossed the border at Mae Sot, and here’s what I wrote about it on my site:
In Chiang Mai: We were stunned by the number of tourists, go-go bars, shops, tour agencies, huge ads for elephant camps or zip lines with monkeys, etc. Everything we hate...
Okay, to be honest, we still have good memories of Thailand, especially in the north (scooter rides around Chian Mai, and especially our stay in villages along the Mekong: Chiang Khan, Sangkom, Nong Khai and its wild sculpture park...). We wanted to avoid the touristy islands and preferred the coast below Bangkok: Prachuap Khiri Khan and Ban Krut... In Bangkok, visiting the beautiful temples by taking the river transport and exploring the stunning temples of Ayutthaya by bike are also great memories...
I’ll keep reading your travel journal with interest... and maybe return to Thailand one day!
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
and it’s totally understandable given the number of Westerners who travel there!
I mostly get the feeling that it’s locals passing through who are traveling there.
I’d say more than 80% in Bangkok right now.
I think Thailand’s bad reputation comes from the fact that all Westerners pretty much go to the same places in the same way.
I’m currently renting a car, and my experience is different. (Something that’s harder to do in Southeast Asia, I think. Even more difficult in India.
Here, it’s manageable.)
Except when I end up in tourist ghettos where, just like everywhere else, the same causes produce the same effects.
Ponts du monde : concours de photos amical de juillet 2026
Rubrique Jeux Voyages
C'est le moment de poster vos meilleurs clichés !
Hey Agnès, we’re gonna end up bumping into each other at an airport if this keeps up! 😄
Seriously, I don’t doubt there are still places in Thailand untouched by tourist pressure. All the spots that aren’t in guidebooks, on Insta, or TikTok... 😩
But I haven’t been lucky either.
Once, I had a layover in Bangkok after 3 weeks in Myanmar.
I booked a random hotel on Booking, and even though I’d barely seen any Westerners during my trip, I ran into 4 or 5 old/ugly guys, all with *very* young Thai companions 🤢. And I’m not sure you can avoid that, even just in the airport!
But of course, I’d never say Thailand is "terrible"—I’m just saying it’s not for me.
Have a blast and tell us all about it when you get back! 😉
Christelle
Le monde est comme un miroir, si tu lui souris, il te sourit aussi!
I just realized tonight that there’s a big omission in my list, and yet it’s a heavyweight one. Because it’s extravagance within extravagance. How could I have forgotten it?
I’ll continue tomorrow
Emmanuel Macron? Voyajou? Buddha? The Thais?
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Whether a trip succeeds—or doesn’t—depends a lot on how you approach it. What it means to you. What your mindset is. I mean, your psychological sea conditions... Calm sea? Beautiful? Slightly choppy? Choppy? Rough? And the wind? A gentle breeze? A nice breeze? A fresh wind? Strong wind? And the weather? And visibility?
For me, it wasn’t any of that. More like fleeing forward, or rather, the lifeboat. Leaving the one I was on, which was taking on water from all sides...
So why not Thailand?
- From India, it’s really not expensive. I’ll go for 2 or 3 weeks to explore, to "get a feel for the place"...
I needed a change of scenery. My heart was heavy... I loved India so much, yet I was discovering all its disguises, all its quirks. Still, I loved it. I still love it as I write these lines. But it feels like it’s doing everything to push me away. Actually, it’s not me being unfaithful—it’s India rejecting me, through the way it is. It’s changed so much! Even if tourists say nothing’s changed, that it’s timeless. But tourists only see the surface—the first layer, the folklore, the chaos, the mess, really. They’re the ones who want it to stay the same.
It seems like Anita Nair put it well in ** (a brick of a book!): We can’t keep living in the Middle Ages just to please them! "Them" being us Westerners, the tourists.
What’s changed, and what tourists don’t notice, are the mentalities, the behaviors. And all sorts of little things that, in the end, make all the difference.
I still love India, but India doesn’t love me anymore.
If I stopped coming to India, could I start a new life? If I left, would I find comfort in the arms of its rival, Thailand—the beautiful, new Siren, or maybe Circe?
Today, I make Anne Vanderlove’s "Ballad in November" my own:
Let me keep my memories
Let me keep my lost loves
It’s time to close the door
Time to go to sleep...
It’s raining
On the garden, on the shore
And if there’s water in my eyes
It’s because it’s raining
On my face...
If I’ve burned so many candles
Since the time we last saw each other
And if I remain faithful to her
What good is so much virtue
Let me keep my lost loves
Let me keep my memories
But before closing the door
Let me take the time to laugh about it
The time to try to smile...
It’s raining
On the garden, on the shore
And if there’s water in my eyes
It’s because it’s raining
On my face...
I bought no fewer than four paper guides and browsed the web. But I’m a terrible spider—I couldn’t make sense of all the contradictory information.
I searched for "Thailand off the beaten path," hoping to find some traveler blogs with tips. No luck! They all pounced on me like flies on jam—"stay here, trek there," this one with this tribe, that one in that village. No one goes to the East, but we’ll take you. The West is packed with tourists, but we know spots with no one...
In all that mess, the only thing I figured out was that 3 weeks wasn’t enough. I switched to a month. I started getting a rough idea of what I’d like to visit, thanks to the paper guides—especially the *Michelin Green Guide*, which I recommend.
- Oh, look at you, recommending things now too!
- Stop interrupting me!
You recognize her, right? You know her already... She’s always there... She never leaves me...
As I was saying, I started getting a rough idea of my trip, so I booked my flight tickets for a 46-day stay. I’d just learned that Thailand had extended its visa exemption from 30 to 60 days.
The success—or failure—of a trip depends a lot on how we approach it. What it means to us. What our state of mind is. I mean our psychological sea weather...
Well said! That’s why returning to the same place multiple times won’t give us the same feeling depending on the moment in our lives, the season, the people we’re traveling with, etc.
I’m really happy with how you’re approaching your travel journal. I started in a similar style for my Rajasthan journal, which I still haven’t published because I thought it might be too long and digressive for people. But you’re encouraging me to keep going this time—I find it much more interesting in the end. If only to capture that mood of the moment you’re talking about, which determines the whole perception and success of the trip.
And through your words, I’m discovering Thailand better—a place I don’t know and may never visit.
For me, it wasn’t any of that. More like running away, or more precisely, the lifeboat. Leaving the one I was on that was taking on water from all sides...
But isn’t there still a lot of "psychological sea weather" in that?
Yeah, it really depends a lot on our mindset and interests too: monuments, landscapes, or people 😊.
One place will be super interesting for one person and not for another.
But I love the start of your travel journal—you can really feel the sincerity.
Can’t wait for the rest! 😄
Le monde est comme un miroir, si tu lui souris, il te sourit aussi!
And I’m getting to know Thailand better through your words—a country I don’t know and may never visit.
But I haven’t even started talking about Thailand yet... 😉 I was just thinking you’d find this intro a bit long-winded. But for me, it feels essential to explain my mindset when I arrived in Bangkok.
I’ll continue tomorrow.
But I haven’t even started talking about Thailand yet... I was actually thinking you’d find this intro a bit long-winded.
No, not at all—I’m already finding it really vivid. And the way you’ve started describing it speaks to me just as much as a detailed itinerary, encounters, or sightseeing descriptions.
Quick, quick, my first request for advice, then a second, then a third... I was helped a lot by several members. I shared my plan—way too ambitious. Too exhausting for an old guy, or so I was told.
I shot back in my usual feisty style that I wasn’t bedridden. Old, me? No way! I can say it, but others can’t .
The gentleman didn’t like that. Too bad—he took my humor the wrong way. People often don’t get my humor, especially when it’s caustic. Caustic doesn’t mean mean. Hard to prove when people label you without knowing you... and refuse to get to know you because the label’s already stuck.
So I trimmed it down. But then *they* all started sending me completely contradictory “advice,” competing with each other. Even started throwing compliments—with plenty of thorns. And there I was, feeling like an idiot, keeping score but not knowing whose advice to follow.
Luckily, I found Jojoone’s travel journals, which gave me some direction and a serious urge to follow in their footsteps. Especially the stunning photos by his professional photographer wife.
I say *their* footsteps because, well, there are two of them. A four-handed travel journal before it was even a thing. He writes, she takes the photos. The pioneers of the four-handed journal, in a way. How many years has it been? But she prefers to stay in the background—no spotlight, no loud voice. So the four hands went unnoticed. But what photos!
With every new page, I thought: *I want to see that, I want to go there.* But the guy was discreet, stingy with public details, so we swapped emails, and I got a clearer picture of how to shape my trip.
They followed up via email and WhatsApp, but I kept doing my own research too—I’m not the type to say, *I want to go to Thailand, plan my itinerary for free, you VF Thailand regulars.*
More disagreements popped up: *You’re staying here too long, not enough there...* And then this one saying *Go here*, and that one immediately writing, *No, don’t do that, it’s stupid—go there instead.* And they started throwing shade again. This time, Jojo went quiet—him, so chatty 😉—and just kept score.
So I thanked them both. I mulled it over and leaned toward what seemed like the wiser advice—wiser for me, for my tastes, for my age. The other guy got offended—who knows why? No sweet words this time, just some bitter remarks. We’re free to listen to whoever we want, right? I’d thanked them plenty of times, after all.
I always say thanks, even if I don’t follow the advice. Because I don’t like being forgotten after bending over backward to help—sending tons of photos I spent ages digging up, sharing details about renting perks in a place or region...
I’d already trimmed my itinerary *a lot*—2 days here, one night there, then 3 or 4 somewhere else—with the first two weeks in Bangkok as my base.
Later, I listened to everyone saying two weeks in Bangkok was crazy or pointless: too much noise, insane traffic, too much pollution, nothing interesting to see outside the major temples—packed with tourists. So I canceled my second week in the apartment.
Another aside: when I stay somewhere long-term, I always pick an apartment over a hotel room, even if I eat out. But buying a great dish from a great restaurant and savoring it at home? Love that. And mornings? I’m slow. *Slow* is an understatement. It takes me a good two hours after waking up to be functional.
Plus, an apartment always has a microwave, a washing machine, and sometimes even a dishwasher. Budget-wise, it’s barely pricier than a good hotel room—which, in India these days, runs between 1800 and 2500 rupees (20 to 25 € for those allergic to local currencies). And I’ve even paid less for an apartment than a hotel room in some cities because demand was lower.
Everything was finally planned when, while casually browsing through my paper and online guides, I discovered a great list of sites to visit and things to do in Bangkok. And above all, Chinatown—without even having seen it, but just from reading what people said about it—struck me as a first cousin to India. I could tell, I just knew, that I was going to love it.
Most of all, I listened to myself because I know myself inside out. I knew that with my pace of life, my desires, and my temperament, a week wouldn’t be enough to follow my new itinerary without rushing, without pushing myself, without stressing. I need time—lots of it—to wander and stroll through a city I’m discovering.
When I arrive, I don’t rush out within ten minutes to visit some temple or the local big-shot palace. I prefer to start by exploring the area around my accommodation. And often, you stumble upon surprises—a hidden gem that no one’s ever mentioned anywhere.
Also, I travel with a bit of my home on my back: my laptop, an external hard drive for photos, my camera and accessories, and a few comfort items. As you get older, you need to keep your little habits and quirks. It’s a hassle to unpack just to find the one thing you need at that moment, only to repack a few days later.
So, suddenly, I turned everything upside down. Back to square one: I’ll stay two weeks in Bangkok. Meanwhile, a woman on the forum advised me to check out Thailandee.com (with two e’s), a free, well-documented virtual guide.
The few new discoveries I made there complemented the many details I’d gathered from Jojoone’s various travel journals. And the ones he shared with me confidentially made me think that Chiang Mai would be the highlight of my trip. So, I decided to stay there for 20 days, exploring the surrounding area within a 50 to 80 km radius, and finish my short journey with 9 days in Chiang Rai for the same reasons and under the same conditions.
I quickly reinstated my apartment booking in Bangkok for two weeks and canceled the ones in the cities where I’d planned to stay for several days.
Jojo didn’t say anything, but I could tell he disapproved of my plan. A little disappointed (hurt?) that I wasn’t following his advice. I didn’t say anything either.
Of course, for these two destinations, I planned to get around by private vehicle. I knew I was resourceful enough not to pay top dollar—17 years of travel-stays in India really helps.
When I announced this on VF, I got all kinds of negative comments, but nothing would make me change my mind this time. I wouldn’t alter anything no matter what anyone said. I’d see once I was there if any adjustments were needed.
Yet, in hindsight, it would’ve been better to do the opposite: 9 days in Chiang Mai and 20 in Chiang Rai. But I’m getting ahead of myself…
A big thank you to Partirdeloin, Songsam, Langsuan, Quensol, Attila, and two or three others whose usernames I’ve forgotten (please forgive me).
You’ve often lent me thoughts I didn’t have! I was sometimes thrown off by your changes of direction, but given that this was your first discovery—a long stay on top of that—it’s not surprising you shifted course several times. I understand it all the more since, when I organize my trips alone, I adjust the route based on the info I dig up and/or the complications I run into.
I sensed you were pretty organized and thoughtful, which turned out to be true, and I gathered that your final choice was a solid synthesis of your research and the advice you got from others. I can admit that, in hindsight, most of my trips would’ve been split up differently.
Oh, some of your choices threw me off, like the White Temple I never saw and never will—but you were the one on the ground, so it was up to you to decide. Unlike many, you put in the effort to dig for info over and over, not just swallowing everything you were handed whole. I just hope it paid off for you.
Anyway, the first time is all about discovery, making contact, and feeling things out. Only that first experience will let *you*, Jean-Marie, decide your options for any future trips.
What would I have looked like if I’d suggested spending more time in Chiang Rai than Chiang Mai? People would’ve laughed in my face. Just look at how crowded those regions are, and you’ll see one is way more appealing than the other. For me, no contest—I’d vote CM hands down. That said, my opinion comes from someone who’s only ever been there in July, not during peak season. Plus, without knowing someone personally, how much can you really advise them? It’s the same issue people on VF often face when trying to answer questions…
You don’t travel the same way I do, and I’d say your approach might even be more interesting than mine. You’re probably a better walker, a keen observer, with different preferences—but hey, vive la différence!
Your intro hints at a sprawling travel journal; as Baudelaire said: "To the happy few!" !
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Just look at the attendance in these regions and you can tell that one is clearly more appealing than the other.
Good evening Joël, I don’t feel like diving into a debate about these cities/regions at the start of my travel journal. We can revisit it later if you’d like, but for now, I can tell you that what attracts others doesn’t matter to me. What interests and excites *me* is what attracts *me*.
What would I have looked like if I’d suggested spending more time in Chiang Rai than in Chiang Mai? People would’ve laughed in my face.
You’ve got to not care what others think. You saw what I wrote earlier—everyone has the right to share their opinion or advice without someone else jumping in to criticize or mock. It just messes with the person who asked for advice in the first place.
I was writing to one of you in private this morning that I was afraid I had nothing to tell you and that this travel journal was fizzling out. Indeed, I’ve taken a lot of photos, but nothing particularly interesting has happened to share. For me, a journal with lots of photos and very little text—or just captions like "here you see a Buddha" and "here’s a lobster"—isn’t a very exciting journal.
Actually, I wasn’t expecting anything from this trip. It was just necessary to leave India after 90 days. I’d also considered Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam... After all that hesitation, changes, and second-guessing, I wondered if my trip wasn’t going to turn into a disaster. And it nearly did.
I almost missed my flight!
I’d calculated that I had to leave India by January 19th after 88 days, because I always keep a safety margin from the 90-day limit—Indian immigration doesn’t mess around when you overstay.
One of my worst moments at Bangalore immigration was that question about the last allowed date.
(By the way, please stop saying "customs" and "customs officers" for immigration and its staff. Immigration has nothing to do with customs. Customs checks your luggage and what you’re importing or exporting. Immigration checks your identity and your comings and goings in the country.)
That evening, the immigration officer inspected my passport with great suspicion. He looked at me like I was a criminal, then looked back at the passport, flipped through the pages, stared endlessly at his computer, then looked at me again. Without saying a word. And in those situations, it’s better to say nothing, not ask questions.
After a good while of this routine, he walked off to an office, still without a word and still eyeing me like I was a dangerous person. The wait dragged on, and I wondered what kind of trouble I was in.
He finally came back, stamped my passport, and gave me a big smile as he handed it back. More than half an hour had passed. So I risked asking:
- What was the problem?
- You're leaving on the last day of your stay. That was suspicious!
So I’d planned to leave on January 19th and had booked my apartment for arrival on the 19th. But by leaving on the 19th, I’d arrive after midnight—so the 20th. So I’d changed my flight to leave Kochi on the 18th to arrive on the 19th. Only my brain didn’t register that detail. I’d told everyone—and myself—that I was leaving for Thailand on January 19th. It was written everywhere, even in my planner: "departure for Thailand" on the January 19th page.
On the 17th, my suitcases were packed, with just last-minute items left to add. I’d do that the next evening, the 18th, the day before departure. Then, while checking my train ticket, I realized it was dated the 18th, not the 19th.
- Damn, I got the date wrong when booking the train!
And to be sure, I checked the flight date too—January 18th.
I’d completely forgotten about changing the flight date!
If that’s not a "Freudian slip," then I’m the pope. Bad omen. I concluded that, in my head, I didn’t want to leave.
So I left Kannur by train for Angamaly, which I mentioned about my return (post 192). Angamaly has the advantage of being very close to the airport. And to wait comfortably during the eight hours before check-in, I rented—a stroke of luck—a nice, spacious apartment for just 1500 rupees, much cheaper than the surrounding hotels, and so close to the airport that without luggage, I could’ve walked.
The very friendly residence manager went out of his way to have a meal delivered so I wouldn’t have to go out.
I’d had a pretty restless, sleepless night because of the thousand thoughts swirling in my head about this trip.
I’d told my VF friends who’d helped me that I was pretty anxious about traveling to a country I knew nothing about. In fact, I was almost in the same state of mind as during my first trip to India. Read it—you’ll probably laugh, I think.
What was really freaking me out was arriving at Bangkok’s huge airport. I dreaded immigration formalities (I’m traumatized by India’s, almost every time I arrive in Bangalore), a customs check of my luggage packed with meds for two months plus a buffer...
The currency exchange too. I’d budgeted 3000 €, thinking I’d planned generously. But some people seemed to think it might be a bit tight. Luckily, others said it’d be more than enough.
Yes, but I didn’t tell them I’m kind of a compulsive shopper of local crafts. A lot for gifts, a little for myself. I get as much—if not more—pleasure from choosing presents as I do from buying things for myself.
I’d planned to exchange only 2000 €, hoping it’d be enough. Then Joël advised me to exchange the whole amount.
- Do you think I can leave most of it in the apartment, hidden, since there’s no safe?
- Never leave money in hotel rooms. Get a money belt or a hidden bag. And never leave any electronics or cameras either.
- You’re kidding, right? I’m not going to walk around everywhere with my laptop and accessories, my camera and its gear...
Well, with my AMEX and REVOLUT cards, I should manage if I run short on cash. But I had to think about the three months in India after this Thailand stay.
I also dreaded the taxi hassles that jump on you, used to that scenario repeating every time I arrived in India before UBER let me escape it.
And then there were my worries about getting around Bangkok. People had raved about the metro, but I was afraid of getting lost. Tuk-tuks? Not highly recommended, and endless negotiations... Joël swears by taxis, but someone else said that even if they’re cheap for a Westerner, they still add up and would eat into my budget.
But everyone agreed:
- Stop stressing like that! You’ll see how easy Thailand is to travel. Everything’s so much simpler. After all the hassles, scams, and complications of India, you’ll feel really comfortable traveling in Thailand...
And as I rested, lying in a comfortable bed instead of waiting for check-in slumped in an uncomfortable airport chair, I fell asleep feeling completely at ease. I’d just realized all my anxiety had suddenly vanished, and a little flame of joy had lit up deep in my heart.
I was actually wondering when we’d get to Thailand!
Well, it might not be too long now 🙂
And I can’t wait to read your thoughts and emotions from your journey—that’s what’s so interesting!
So, bring on the next part...
un chemin et la caresse du vent, alors je pars en voyage...
Even those pre-trip feelings and thoughts, I find them at least as important as what comes after. For me, the journey started the moment I began this travel journal.
Oh, I’m not disputing the start of the trip—I can’t wait to get to Thailand! That said, I think I get that with this travel journal’s author, you’ve gotta be patient 🙂.
un chemin et la caresse du vent, alors je pars en voyage...
I think I get that with the author of this travel journal, you’ve gotta be patient 🙂.
Patient and attentive 😉 to the details, the circumstances, the setting of the scene, the different characters and their personalities. And when there aren’t any photos, you’ve gotta use your imagination.
I’m sorry, but I must have the gene of the Arab storyteller who keeps their audience on the edge of their seats for hours and saves the rest for the next day at the most gripping moment. And who even imagines different versions, can’t remember them, doesn’t tell the same details depending on the audience, the day, or the place… So immersed in their own story that they live or relive it as they tell it.
If you want, I can also give you the short version:
I went to Thailand, I saw a lot of Buddhas. I loved Thailand—or I hated Thailand—and I’m attaching 300 photos to help you understand my emotions. If my photos even express my emotion or don’t express anything at all.
I also feel like saying that for me, my trip actually started in August when I bought my paper guides to figure out where I was going.
And describing the context in which I decided to take this trip to Thailand, as well as the situation I was in during the few weeks and days just before leaving, seemed essential to me.
It’s clear that in a completely different context, the trip itself would have been entirely different too.
If you want, I can also do the short version:
I went to Thailand, I saw a lot of Buddhas. I loved Thailand—or I hated Thailand—and I’m attaching 300 photos to help you understand my emotions.
Brilliant. And to think some people stress over making elaborate travel journals when, really, it’s so simple to make a 😏 travel journal.
If you want, I can also do the short version:
I went to Thailand, saw a lot of Buddhas. I loved Thailand—or I hated Thailand—and I’m attaching 300 photos to help you understand my emotions.
Brilliant. And to think some people stress over making elaborate travel journals when, really, it’s so simple to put together a travel journal.
The guy’s a genius—knows how to whip up either long or short journals on a whim. Journals with photos or without. 😛
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
I’d taken an Indigo flight from Kochi to Bangkok with a layover in Hyderabad. Clearing immigration there took barely a few minutes, which reinforced my belief that it’s really the Bangalore team that’s nitpicky, incompetent, or poorly trained. The same went for the cabin baggage security check.
At Bangalore, their detection equipment must be outdated and not very effective, because after scanning bags, they often can’t identify certain items and ask travelers to check their bags. More often than not, they make you empty almost everything, mixing it all up, disregarding the privacy of your belongings, and then you’re left to figure out how to put it all back in order.
It was during one of these stressful checks that, a few years earlier, I’d forgotten to put my laptop back in its protective case, and it had stayed in the bin. I only realized when I got home to Kannur and opened my bag.
I’d accused the restroom attendant of stealing my laptop because he’d kindly offered to watch my cart while I went to relieve myself. And I was convinced I’d put it back in my bag after the security check.
Of course, the laptop was never found at Bangalore Airport! Despite a supposedly thorough investigation by their lost-and-found service after the security check.
So, with a light heart and the idiotic smile of a "happy camper" who hadn’t slept on Christmas Eve, I landed at Suvarnabhumi, Bangkok’s main airport.
I’d mentally rehearsed my arrival thanks to the clear explanations on Thaïlandee.com (https://www.thailandee.com).
This guy had the brilliant idea to make a full video (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vmfC_0zTxU), playing the role of a confused traveler arriving in Thailand for the first time… It’s way clearer than the best explanations. You just put yourself in the guy’s shoes and do the same!
But I didn’t follow the exit route exactly the same way. I needed a SIM card right away and didn’t want to pay by credit card.
(Even though French people still call it a "carte bleue"—when it hasn’t been blue for ages, there’s more than one type, and they come in all colors except blue. Same with saying "téléphone portable" when the whole world says "mobile phone." In my humble opinion, it’s best not to stay too "franchouillard" if you want to be understood when traveling outside France. 😜)
So I had to go down to the basement to exchange all my euros, then go back up to the second floor to buy my SIM card, and then down to the first floor to exit. I mention this detail to show just how comfortable and well-designed Bangkok Airport is. There are plenty of escalators, elevators, information signs, floor plans, and everything you need. Despite the travel fatigue, I had no trouble handling all these steps and back-and-forths before finally leaving the airport.
Things started to feel a bit Indian when the taxi driver asked for 500 THB instead of the 320 shown on the meter. I’d preferred to pay the tolls myself to get small change. But I quickly realized that everywhere—at counters, markets, even the smallest stalls—people had change, and I no longer heard the Indian refrain: "Sorry, sir, no change."
I was floating in a kind of dazed mix of heat, fatigue, euphoria, and surprise, so I wasn’t about to argue with the driver over 180 THB! But I was already confusing THB and INR. I’ll come back to that later. This mistake caused me a few nasty disappointments during my stay.
I soon discovered that the optimistic legend dear to our friend Joël—the land of smiles—is just that: a legend. Smiles, yes, but often commercial, hypocritical, and only sincere and spontaneous in villages far from tourists. I quickly sensed the Thais’ exasperation with tourists. But I’ll develop that later. For now, I’m just talking about my first impressions upon arrival. For example, at the airport, the young women from the internet provider were downright unpleasant and impatient with my questions about the best plan. I even found out after a month that they’d either lied to me or were incompetent. But I think they were just in a really bad mood. On the other hand, one of my positive observations was finding competent and well-trained staff almost everywhere I went—unlike in India.
May our friend Ragamuffin forgive me, if he reads these lines, for comparing these two countries. I’m not comparing them as destinations but as ways of life, daily behaviors, and comfort (or discomfort) for a traveler like me discovering Thailand.
I also felt a bit of disillusionment upon arriving at my accommodation. While it was indeed a residential apartment building, it wasn’t really one in the usual sense. Let’s say it was halfway between a hotel and a residence, with some hotel perks but also quite a few drawbacks that a "real" residence wouldn’t have. Starting with my lodging, which was neither a room nor an apartment. At best, a large studio with no kitchen or living area. No chairs either. Just two stools. One in front of a long shelf meant to serve as a desk. The other in front of a sort of desk-table converted into a kitchen table by a plastic-coated cover featuring an electric kettle, two plates, two sets of cutlery, two mugs, no glasses, and two large soup bowls. I quickly realized that what they call "soup"—more like a broth—is the most commonly served and eaten dish by guests. On the fridge (which had no freezer) sat a microwave. No closet, just two measly drawers and two nightstands serving as storage. A huge 2m x 2m bed that was *very* comfortable. A glass cage in front of a gaping opening with no window, overlooking a narrow alley dominated by the opposite building’s wall, blocking all natural light. The so-called cage replacing a window could be opened, but why, except to air out the place?
The whole thing bathed in a sober atmosphere meant to feel luxury-chic-modern, with walls painted in burgundy, gray, and black. The height of this ultra-"trendy" design was the heavy plastic curtain serving as a door to separate the bedroom from the bathroom with toilet. Needless to say, in case of traveler’s diarrhea, the smell would spread throughout the room.
In the hallways, from reception to the terrace, wafted the sweet smell of hashish smoke, which perfumed the place. I say "perfumed" because I love that smell.
But the icing on the cake—or should I say the champagne—was a huge terrace beautifully decorated to give the illusion of a garden, surrounded by a stunning effect of a forest of fantastic skyscrapers, day and night.
Next to the terrace, a large laundry area with three big washing machines and a dry cleaner (I don’t know what it’s called in French). Plenty of clotheslines, drying racks, hangers, and clothespins—enough for all the tenants. And free detergent. The whole area was sheltered but well-ventilated, allowing clothes to dry in an hour or two max given the heat.
A very sweet little tortoiseshell cat often hanging around the hallways and terrace, never intrusive or bothersome.
The owners, a gay couple—one British, the other Thai—were only present from 10 AM to 12 or 1 PM but *very* available via WhatsApp.
This—too?—long description to say that despite all its drawbacks and shortcomings, I felt like I was in a warm cocoon where it was nice to settle in at the end of the day for a good night’s sleep in a peaceful, restful silence.
From the very first hours—even the first minutes—I noticed two things: drivers didn’t honk like maniacs as they do in India. In fact, THEY DIDN’T HONK AT ALL. And they respected pedestrians, didn’t speed toward them or brush past them like crazy. And they didn’t drive fast either.
These two facts alone made Bangkok instantly pleasant to visit, despite its reputation as hellish, and its inhabitants seemed friendly.
A bit like back home, smiles are less common in the capital. The same goes for immigration services, government offices, certain tourist-heavy areas, professionals trained abroad, and people who are educated and financially comfortable—they tend to put on a bit of an act.
It might be different in other galaxies, but on this planet, a smile is more of a tool to smooth social interactions than a constant display of kindness and bliss.
In Thailand, I also see it as a mark of politeness—something we don’t really find much in Europe anymore.
No matter where we were in Bangkok, when it came to SIM cards, we always had charming and patient ladies helping us out.
Again, a single unique experience doesn’t make a rule.
As for professionalism, there’s a lot to say. In short, Thai education, lifestyle, and work culture don’t really encourage it. That said, it’s far from universal—I’ve met plenty of Thais who were incredibly efficient. Okay, many of them had been trained by *farangs* or worked with them. 🙂
A quick note on horn usage: in Thailand, it’s mostly used to say hi to a friend or acquaintance. Using it in other situations is seen as a serious breach of etiquette—even the ultimate provocation. Many drivers avoid honking at all costs to prevent ending up in a regrettable shootout. Thais are generally calm and measured, but when the veneer cracks for one reason or another, things can escalate quickly.
It’s a shame that other noises—like the roar of aging engines, poorly maintained exhaust systems, or missing mufflers—create so much noise pollution.
But compared to somewhere like Vietnam, Thailand is definitely quieter sound-wise.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Hi Joël,
Thanks so much for following my travel journal so closely. It really means a lot to me.
But are you only going to chime in to contradict me when what I say doesn’t align with your views?
You asked me to share my impressions, my feelings, etc. about my trip to Thailand, and that’s what I’m doing. What I write only reflects my own perception of what I’ve seen and observed. I’m not generalizing at all, my friend, when I give an example. It’s just an example, not a generalization.
And please, don’t pull the “if that’s how it is, I won’t say anything anymore” card on me too. That would be really childish.
Have a great weekend.
And I thought: she must not have liked it, Dolma!!!
Haha! From Scotland to Thailand, it’s just a few pages away—so handy 🙂
The way you describe a room isn’t just a basic, monotonous list—it’s more like a dance set to the rhythm of your words. It twirls, it calms, then it takes off again.
I’ll be following your adventures with the occasional surprise, plenty of smiles and laughs, and always with pleasure…
un chemin et la caresse du vent, alors je pars en voyage...
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I'm starting my first travel journal since VF reopened!
This will mostly be to share my impressions and some photos, with a few days' delay, but I'm starting this journal while I'm still here.
First, I'd like to thank those who helped me prepare for this trip.
I was able to organize this stay in one of the most expensive countries in the world thanks to the home-exchange principle. Not necessarily a direct swap, but through a points system, which is more practical for choosing where you want to go without it having to be a reciprocal exchange.
For this trip, there will already be two different accommodations. We'll see how it goes after that.
The first place is near Yverdon-les-Bains, close to Lake Neuchâtel.
So, we're going to explore this area!
We arrived under capricious weather that won’t leave us for the next few days!
We had dinner at a pizzeria recommended by *Le Routard* in Yverdon, then took a little nighttime stroll through the town center before heading inland to settle into our accommodation.
We discovered a very large, quiet house—and especially the cat that stayed behind! Funny for a couple of mice! He’ll be sleeping with us 😹
This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rentals kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything fell into place—I told myself, now’s the time!
Preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan?
Not in the end.
The south or not?
Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or play it by ear?
Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela on this destination (the guide has been updated since).
---/---
You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek!
(‘Beefsteak’ for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
March 2nd — Departure by bus from Latour at 6:50 AM. The journey isn’t direct: we pass through Elne then Corneilla. In Perpignan, I switch to a BlablaBus heading to Barcelona’s northern bus station. Before reaching Le Perthus, French police stop us to check IDs. Several people aren’t in order, but after about fifteen minutes, we’re on our way again. We’re checked again at La Jonquera: this time, the wait lasts almost forty-five minutes while police identify those in violation and wait for a vehicle to pick them up. The driver then tries to make up for lost time; we finally arrive at our destination half an hour late.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.
Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.
Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church
, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes
—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit.
I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.
Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare
We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.
We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.
June 2024.
While hiking with my brother on the GR 36 Tour du Morvan, I catch sight now and then of strange rectangular markers fixed to tree trunks. Against a bright orange background, a deep black Greek tau topped with a white dove. My first encounter with the Assisi Way.
The Way of St. Francis: a pilgrimage route linking Vézelay in Burgundy to Assisi in Italy, covering nearly 1,800 km.
It felt like an obvious next step—I immediately knew I’d take it on, attempt the adventure solo.
In the months that followed, I talked about my project to everyone—family, friends, my partner. An avalanche of comments, more or less the same but varying depending on each person’s character and life experiences. But deep down, it all boiled down to one legitimate question: why?
And the answers?
Hesitant, awkward, partial, even confused. I quickly realized they weren’t so easy to find. It was as if my project seemed more like a whim, a kind of intimate caprice, rather than a well-thought-out plan.
Of course, I knew the reasons that pushed me to leave—you always have to give some. Loved ones need to understand to feel reassured, and that’s understandable.
But I fear that when I list them, they’ll sound like the same old checklist anyone embarking on this kind of journey might give.
Of all the reasons I could mention, I’ll highlight just one here: the call of the road, the solo adventure that brings a powerful sense of freedom.
A bit like Monsieur Seguin’s goat, who from her comfortable pen gazes longingly at the unconstrained horizon of the mountain.
But if I’m being honest, I think I didn’t really know what I was looking for—or, more importantly, what I’d find. Deep down, when I reflect on it, one word keeps coming up that explains nothing and everything at once: desire.
Now well past sixty, I know that when I ask myself who I am or where I’m going, two things bring me fully back to myself: hiking and writing.
And my intention was also to anchor this adventure through words, day by day. Writing down my feelings, emotions, discoveries, and reflections each evening. The famous travel journal that grounds the daily experience in reality.
When I discovered the app "Polarstep," which was initially just meant to keep my loved ones updated and reassured, inform them of my progress, and maintain a connection, I found an opportunity to do it a little differently than usual.
No retrospective notes polished up after returning, but spontaneous writing—recounting everything that crossed my mind during the day and publishing it immediately. A journey lived in real time.
This text is the exact transcription of my daily writings. Rereading them, I didn’t change a thing—just corrected a few mistakes and tweaked some awkward phrasing here and there. Short texts, fitting the format imposed by this kind of app. Writing as if addressing others.
Now, all that was left was to walk.
April 18, 2026 – Vézelay.
Summer 2022 left me with a sense of unfinished business, so here I am back in Swedish Lapland for summer 2024, ready to attempt the Sarek crossing again—and this time, tackle part of the Kungsleden too.
After much hesitation, my partner Jean Marie and I decided to start with the Kungsleden, which is, from what we’ve read, stunning but very busy (and it really is!!), and finish with the wilder option: SAREK! This park is known as Europe’s last true wilderness—sounds like a dream, right?!
The downside of this plan is that there’s no way to resupply in Sarek, and the Kungsleden isn’t exactly set up for long-distance trekking either, so we’ll have to carry a lot of food for the first part of the trip with Sarek in mind. Oh well, we’re motivated!
Our plan is to start in Abisko (the classic route), head to Vakkotavare (also classic, but with some variations to avoid the official trail and the crowds), then continue the Kungsleden from Saltoluokta. Before reaching Aktse, we’ll set off on an east-to-west crossing of Sarek (weather-dependent, since aside from the Skarja hut in the center of the park, there’s no shelter if conditions turn bad).
At least we’ll be on the right side of the park to climb Skierfe and enjoy the jaw-dropping view of Rappaladen if we have to bail on Sarek.
All in all, that’s 17 days of trekking, including 1 rest day and 1 buffer day for weather delays.
So if you’re interested, I invite you to follow our fully packed backpacks!
08/03 - Abisko – 5km before Abiskojaure
Some info (guides we used for prep, SFT map, sending food to Saltoluokta)
08/04 – 5km before Abiskojaure - on the east shore of Lake Alisjavri
08/05 – East shore of Lake Alisjavri – just before Tjaktja
08/06 – Just before Tjaktja – above the Salka hut via Nallo
08/07 - Salka – just past Singi + side trip to Djalson Lake
08/08 - Singi – Teusajaure
08/09 - Teusajaure - Vakkotavare (end of the first section of the Kungsleden)
08/10 – rest day in Saltoluokta + round trip to the Sámi village of Pietjaure
08/11 – Saltoluokta – Sitojaure
08/12 - Sitojaure - Skierfe - Sarek or no Sarek?
08/13 – Skierfe – somewhere above Rapadalen
08/14 – Somewhere above Rapadalen – above the Skarki hut
08/15 – Above the Skarki hut - Skarja
08/16 – Camping at Skarja
08/17 – Ruohtesvagge
08/18 – Ruohtesvagge - Padjelantaleden
08/19 – Padjelantaleden - Ritsem – End of the trek
08/20–24 - End of the trip (Lullea - Stockholm)
And of course, the recap
This travel journal summarizes a trip I took in March to Argentine and Chilean Patagonia. It starts in El Calafate and ends in Ushuaia. During my planning, I considered looking into the Australis cruise from Punta Arenas to Ushuaia, as well as the W trek in Torres del Paine National Park. In both cases, I was put off by the prices. Instead of the cruise, I found two interesting wildlife excursions from Punta Arenas: whale watching in the Strait of Magellan and observing king penguins in Tierra del Fuego. The journey to Ushuaia was by bus. For Torres del Paine, things were a bit confusing, so I reached out to two agencies. In the end, I went with a rental car option, overnight stays on-site, and day hikes. I shared my full itinerary with the agency and ended up being taken care of by a local Argentine agency and a Chilean one.
So, here we go...
If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!
Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with:
Zero preparation.
Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.
Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?
The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!
The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.
So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!
So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!
From Southern Shikoku, between land and sea, to the blue waters of Miyakojima and finally Tokyo’s megacity
Hi everyone,
I have to admit, I really hesitated before deciding to write this travel journal... Writing one takes a lot of time and energy, and since this is my 4th trip, I wondered if it would even interest anyone other than myself (both for the discovery and the writing). But after a few people asked, "Are you going to write a journal?" and especially after rediscovering the joy of reading other travelers’ journals about Japan or elsewhere on this forum, I’ve decided to share my 4th installment in the Land of the Rising Sun here.
The itinerary:
27 full days, from late May to late June 2025, right in the middle of the rainy season, including:
-->13 days in Shikoku, from Kochi (Kochi Prefecture) to Matsuyama (Ehime Prefecture)
-->7 days in Miyakojima (Okinawa Prefecture)
-->7 days in Tokyo
The trip was decided on fairly last-minute again this year.
Since I regularly check flight prices to track fluctuations for this destination even without concrete plans, stumbling upon a slightly cheaper direct flight (900 €) than what I’d seen in previous months (around 1,200–1,400 € on average) for a Paris-Tokyo route with Japanese airline ANA was too tempting to resist the urge to return to this enchanting country. After much hesitation between exploring the San’in region (Matsue, Tottori, Yamaguchi) and Southern Shikoku, the decision was made—I took the plunge! The ticket is booked: Paris to Kochi with a layover in Tokyo, all with ANA, the airline I’d been dreaming of... for 1,120 € per person. Okay, it’s not cheap, but it’s better than in 2023.
Departure in 2 weeks! Now I just have to get everything ready!
Intense prep work over these next 2 weeks to:
finalize a more precise itinerary and reach an agreement—yep, because even though we both love Japan, our preferences differ slightly, and we have to choose between exploring new places or revisiting beloved spots...
decide how much time to spend in each area without rushing while still exploring
research places that might interest us and watch videos about Japan
book accommodations: yes, it’s possible to do this on the spot, but last year, we realized that last-minute options were pretty expensive, so we’re booking ahead—though we’ll keep a few options open in case better deals pop up later
reserve rental cars
order yen
check the weather regularly and wonder if choosing the *tsuyu* (rainy season) was really a good idea—are we going to be drenched the whole time???
"What hard work," you might say! Going to Japan for a month—what a tough life!
Despite this being my 4th trip, the excitement is just as intense as the first time.
The only small downside is that when we booked the flight, there weren’t many seats left, so we’re only sitting together on the international return flight. Plus, on the way there, we have middle seats.
Another lingering question: what French-language films will be available? According to the internet, the selection seems limited.
Oh well, these are just minor details—it’s already time to fly!
PS: I’ll be posting slowly and irregularly... so for those interested, be patient, and maybe set an alert...
Kattegat isn’t just the name of the village in the TV series *Vikings*—it’s also the stretch of water separating Denmark from Sweden... the sea, basically! And further north, you’ve got Norway and its fjords!
Originally, I’d planned to just do a loop around Kattegat, with the *Under* restaurant in Lindesnes as our anniversary treat... but along the way, we thought, why not "push" a little further north, keeping an eye on the budget since we’d chosen to travel by car in June 2025 through Scandinavia.
Why by car when most travelers opt for a camper van, while others prefer the comfort of cruises?
Well, because we don’t own a camper van, renting one is pricey, and then you’ve got to add fuel costs (those things guzzle gas!), ferry fees, and other "tolls." All things considered, we went for mostly rentals—especially since there were four of us at the start of the trip.
We spent the first week in Denmark with our daughter and son-in-law. Then they flew back to Belgium, and we continued our adventure as a couple.
For accommodation, we mainly booked Airbnb apartments, which helped keep costs down and, most importantly, let us prepare our own meals (diet, diet!).
In this travel journal, you’ll discover (or rediscover, for those who followed my older ones) our unbridled love for theme parks, museums, unique experiences, and—especially in Denmark—Legos!
Unfortunately, we didn’t do any hikes this year because the unpredictable weather had made the trails slippery, and since I’d already taken three tumbles during the trip, I didn’t want to risk another!
In the end, we traveled for 32 days, covered 6,200 km, and most importantly, discovered the charming country of Denmark, marveled at Norway’s breathtaking fjords—all without suffering the heatwave that hit France and Belgium that June!
If you’ve got any questions, don’t hesitate to ask!
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style.
All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert.
However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about it.
I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.
I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guardians for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course.
Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious.
Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons.
That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though? Much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been full of holes for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and enormous beast with its own garden. Yet it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water there for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not just for fun—these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
Here’s our account of our trip to Malaysia from September 11th to 27th.
I hope our tips can help others as much as this forum has helped us!
Day 0:
Departure from Nantes with a transfer in Amsterdam via KLM (720 €).
Day 1:
We arrive at KLIA1 in the early afternoon.
First challenge: figuring out where to pick up our luggage. Turns out the answer is right under our noses—we need to take the airport’s internal metro!
Once we’ve got our bags, we withdraw some cash from a Maybank ATM right there.
Next up: SIM card! Just outside the arrivals hall, several kiosks offer them. We go for a Celcom 5 GB card (70 RM).
Then it’s taxi time to get to KL, in the Bukit Bintang area—about 85 RM in a slightly old taxi with weak air conditioning.
We check into our Airbnb apartment, which is clean, more spacious than a hotel room, and—best of all—has a charming balcony with a gorgeous nighttime view!
We end up hanging out on that balcony, reviewing our plans for the next day. After dark, we take the monorail just a short walk away to enjoy our first evening on a rooftop at the 34th floor: Hélipad (Raja Chulan station—you have to enter the Menara Tower at the base of the station) with a panoramic view of the city and its iconic towers.
Finally, we head to Jalan Alor to grab a bite in this super busy street.
Big sleep ahead! 😴
After a pretty disastrous weather-wise trip to Gran Canaria, we’re hoping this time the sun will shine in Puglia.
It’s not a sure thing, though—the weather’s been awful all over Europe in early May.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16:
This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us.
The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!!
The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that Italian cars don’t have turn signals 😮... except for rental cars).
About an hour later, we arrive at our first accommodation, right in the middle of the countryside near Monopoli.
The owner isn’t there, but they’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch.
We explore the property:
And the next morning before breakfast, its immediate surroundings:
Sunday, May 17:
After our "seaside" experience in Gran Canaria last weekend (packed with people and locals), we decide to start inland.
After a hearty breakfast,
we head toward Alberobello, a super touristy village famous for its trulli—those stone houses with conical roofs.
We easily find a free parking spot on a street near the Aia Piccola district, where some trulli are still lived in year-round.
We almost immediately come across the Trullo Sovrano (the only two-story one), which you can visit (but we skip it—it’s opening time, and there’s already a line).
From there, we head down toward the Basilica of Cosma e Damiano... but we don’t go in because there’s a mass.
Now we’re on the main Piazza del Popolo, which connects the two districts of Alberobello: Rione Aia Piccola and Rione Monti, the more touristy one.
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions...
So, now that I've just finished my Japan travel journal here, I figured it was high time to honor this destination we came back from so enchanted.
Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some!
Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!
I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to include fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to take her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can slip away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!
Anyway, since I love maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red); we only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband’s newly retired, I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.
In broad strokes, it was very classic:
First, we “settled in” at Luang Prabang (8 days), because we wanted and needed to.
From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we know, distances aren’t just about km!
Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4,000 Islands while stopping by the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites.
We wrapped up with the Bolaven Plateau.
A few practical notes: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having picked up our luggage in Bangkok to check it in for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized.
We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. Quick, but to be fair, we were on a “small” plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too crowded in line!
At the end of our trip, we didn’t fly out of Paksé but from the nearby airport in Thailand, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), then Bangkok and Paris.
You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the (Chinese) train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!
With that intro out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter.
To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang
Here’s a little story about my first trip to Japan with my partner.
We went for our first visit from October 29 to November 13, 2024.
I had planned this entire trip back in November 2020, but given the health situation at the time, I had to cancel...
Here’s the classic route we took:
We booked everything ourselves and got a regional pass for the area from Kyoto to Hiroshima.
The hotels were reserved 3 months in advance on Book... and Agod... (1030 € for 2 people for 13 nights = 80 €/night).
For the flight, we chose a Qatar Airways flight with a layover to break up the long journey (950 € per person).
We also got a pass on the same site (Japan-Experience) to take the train connecting Narita Airport to Shibuya Station (the N'EX Narita Express).
Since the airport is 75 km from central Tokyo, we opted for this mode of transport, even though there are cheaper alternatives.
After reading various posts on VoyageForum, I understood how important it was to have a Welcome Suica card to pay for public transport (subway, tram, bus, boat throughout the country), and we were able to buy one at Narita Airport.
It turned out to be super useful!
After a long but smooth journey, we found ourselves at Narita Airport in the evening.
Even though we had a pass for the Narita Express, we had to go to a counter to make a reservation for the train (mandatory).
Then, once we arrived at Shibuya Station, we took the subway for 2 stops and finally reached our hotel, exhausted (Hotel Asia Center of Japan – 270 € for 3 nights with breakfast included).
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area).
In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo.
But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip.
And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.
So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays:
- 3 nights in St Lucia
- 1 night in Hluhluwe
- 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini)
- 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini)
- 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti)
- 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve
- 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie
All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.
I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).
To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.
We went to Albania in August 2025.
Our itinerary included adventure (sporty activities, site visits), naps on the beach interspersed with swims, incredible natural sites, and a bit of culture.
I booked all our accommodations on Booking.com. Note: almost all places ask to be paid in cash!! You can obviously withdraw from banks, but the fees are pretty high. Luckily, we had plenty of cash, and the country is very safe. You can pay in euros most of the time, which avoids exchange fees.
We started in Tirana. I’d read a really interesting post about Albania’s bunkers (link in my profile). We chose to visit Bunk’Art with a guide from the agency that wrote the post. It was fascinating—not only to better understand the country’s history but also because her grandfather was repressed by the regime, and she shared her family’s experience with us.
Bunkers are everywhere! In Tirana, Bunk’Art is the most interesting and largest. You’ll see the dictator Enver Hoxha’s office, where he would’ve taken refuge in case of an attack on the country. Bring a sweater—it’s really cold in the underground tunnels and their huge corridors.
You can visit other bunkers around the country, in Tirana and elsewhere. Almost all are just abandoned.
The cable car up Mount Dajti is right next to Bunk’Art. The view is stunning—you realize Tirana is so close to the mountains and the sea... But otherwise, it’s not that exciting for older teens (17 and 19) and their parents.
We picked up a rental car in Tirana—it’d be ours for the next three weeks. We used Goalbania’s agency to avoid any hassles. First, there aren’t many cars available in Albania in summer. Second, French credit cards can be a nightmare abroad. So we preferred to sort that out in advance.
After Tirana, we headed to Permet. Just a heads-up: the roads are in great condition except in the mountains. And Albanian drivers aren’t stressful to deal with. Though you might suddenly encounter a herd of goats crossing the road—haha—but if you’re not going too fast, it’s fine.
In Permet, I’d been dreaming of rafting on the Vjosa, one of Europe’s last wild rivers. And we did it with a local agency! It’s beautiful, accessible to everyone, not too physical but still a bit lively—just how we like it. You can even jump into the river in some spots.
In Permet, we also hiked through a canyon and visited a lovely little church.
And we took a workshop to make their local culinary pride: gliko. It’s a jam with whole fruits inside. We’d seen it on Goalbania’s site, and it was really fun. We were with a family where the secret to making gliko has been passed down for generations...
Next, we headed to Gjirokastër. A city we loved: its old traditional houses (Skendulli and Zekate), its grand castle, the Ali Pasha Bridge. Along the way, we stopped for artisanal ice cream at a little shop run by a grandmother who’s been making it herself for ages.
One afternoon, my husband *had* to go to the coast in the south, to Ksamil (he’d read it was better than Sarandë). Verdict: we didn’t like it. Parking is a nightmare, the beaches are super noisy and crowded. The sea is packed with jet skis, boats, pedalos, and ropes. Avoid it.
On the other hand, we really liked Himarë, where we went next. We stayed at a campsite where we rented tents with mattresses and sheets inside. Right by the sea, on a low cliff (about 2 meters high). You can hear the waves at night... Magical!! To swim, you either jump straight into the sea (almost from the tent) or climb down a ladder, which you’ll need to climb back up to get out.
I was a little worried the campsite wouldn’t be very comfortable, so afterward, I’d booked a small place in Gjilek. Turns out, the place was really tiny (one room for four, no kitchen) and pretty expensive (over 100 € a night). We’d drive to the beach or restaurants—it’s on a steep slope, so not very accessible. Parking near the sea is tricky. But the (private) beaches were nice—we’d rent an umbrella not too close to the music and spend the day there. We also went to a wilder beach, harder to reach, via a long path. Behind the beach, there’s an amazing canyon where we’d sometimes climb using ropes (already in place, no need to bring your own) over big boulders rolled around by the stream, which must swell a lot in spring.
So, the sea in Albania: it’s nice if you like swimming and relaxing, but it’s not the most interesting part of the country. There are so many other amazing things to see and discover—so many stunning sites! Maybe an agency could’ve helped us find more practical accommodations and avoid Ksamil and its surroundings.
We left the coast to head to the beautiful city of Berat and its "thousand windows." We explored the city, its fortress, and its icon museum.
Then we discovered the Osum Canyon—it’s incredible. The view from the top is breathtaking. And at the bottom, it’s magical. There’s little water in summer, so rafting isn’t an option. We weren’t tempted by the big-tube descent offered by an agency—it looked fun, but the group had 40 people. We preferred hiking on our own as a family of four. We scouted the area on Google Maps... and found where to descend. We walked in the water, then it rose to our waists, then our shoulders... We weren’t moving fast. And how to get back up?? Eventually, we followed a group with a guide—the path was hard to find.
After that unforgettable hike, we visited the Bogovë Waterfalls. It’s pretty, and we swam, but the water was *really* cold.
We passed through Tirana again and then headed to Shkodër. We explored a bit—its charming little streets, the Rozafa Fortress. There’s a tiny museum where you can see *huge* Ottoman stone cannonballs. And they tell you the (charming) story of the young woman who was walled alive in the castle’s foundations to ensure its strength...
Shkodër is mostly a stopover to head into the mountains and discover Theth. Our goal: hiking in the Valbona Valley, from Valbona to Theth. We organized the trip ourselves, without an agency, but it took some time to figure everything out. So I’ll save you the trouble—haha. Book your tickets on the Komanilakeferry website. The ticket includes:
🙂 minibus transfer from downtown Shkodër to Koman
🙂 ferry ticket from Koman to Fierze. This ferry ride is *gorgeous*—between mountain slopes covered in pine trees, and sometimes a little house with a few fields...
🙂 minibus ticket from Fierze to Valbona. Now you’re in the mountains! The minibus drops you off near your accommodation—pick one as close as possible to the start of the hike (if that’s your goal!). The ones at the far end of the village add up to 1.5 hours of walking. Our choice: Guesthouse Dioni. The host is really lovely, it’s in the woods, and it’s basic but great.
After a day of hiking, we arrived in Theth. What beautiful mountains! Then we explored Theth and the surrounding area. It’s pretty busy, but you can still enjoy the Blue Eye of Theth and its swim. It’s *so* cold! But so beautiful!
🙂 minibus ticket from Theth back to Shkodër.
After a night in Shkodër, we drove to Kepi i Rodonit. A guidebook (I forget which one) raved about its beauty. And it *is* beautiful!
But the view is ruined by plastic bottles and other trash in the bushes, along the paths, and of course on the beaches. The only peaceful spot: the private beach at Kepi i Rodonit, which is cleaned. You can rent an umbrella and have lunch there. That’s where we spent our last few days—very relaxing.
In short... Albania turned out to be perfect for us and our teens!
I’m diving into a recap of our loop—pretty classic, really—Denver-Yellowstone-Denver this past summer, from July 24 to August 17. Given the sheer number of trip reports already out there (or in the works), and since I don’t have the writing chops or the photography skills of many of you, I’ll keep it practical—well, I’ll try, at least—to share our take on some of the less-visited parks and spots.
First off, a huge thank you to everyone whose trip reports, blogs, websites, comments, and more helped us put together this itinerary. Looking back, it could’ve been even better optimized: a few disappointments when we missed out on some great discoveries, often because we were short on time. Plenty of reasons to come back to the area!
We’re traveling with our four (almost) teens—18, 16, 14, and nearly 12 years old. To keep the trip enjoyable for everyone, we had to make compromises on both sides: cutting a visit short to spend more time swimming, waking up at dawn, and so on. But logistics also played a big role—things like laundry, grocery shopping, and keeping luggage organized could’ve quickly become time-consuming without a little planning.
And honestly, I think we visited every Walmart along the way! Blame it on the lack of fridges in some accommodations and, more importantly, the *very* limited space in the car, which made it impossible to bring a proper cooler. I’ll come back to the car saga later.
For accommodations, this year we alternated between basic cabins in KOA campgrounds and Yellowstone (when staying more than one night in the same place) and hotels. Always with a pool (except in Yellowstone, of course), which let the kids burn off energy—because they always have reserves, even after packed days!—and, let’s be honest, gave us a chance to relax. No Wi-Fi issues either; we all had plans with 25 GB of data (a big thanks to Gilles for the amazing deal at 0.99 €). It worked perfectly, even for texts and calls between phones—no extra charges.
Now, onto our route: as I mentioned, a classic Denver-Yellowstone-Denver loop. To avoid rushing through the parks or spending all our time on the road, we prioritized staying as close to them as possible, with at least two nights in each place. And I’ve got to say, it’s really nice to settle in, even if it’s just for two nights. It also helped us deal with the weather, which wasn’t always great during this trip. The trade-off? With vacation time being limited, some driving days ended up being long. We knew that going in, but since we kept a relaxed pace with no time constraints (don’t ask me for timings—I don’t keep track of the clock on vacation, except in the morning to get everyone up before noon!), we sometimes ended up with marathon days.
With that said, I’ll dive into the trip itself in the next post.
We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?
And we still haven’t seen everything!
Before setting off for new horizons at the end of this year, it’s time for me to share my trip to Cape Verde this summer 2025.
I particularly love these spontaneous trips, and our stay in Cape Verde is one of those because it was only at the beginning of April that we decided on this getaway, which had been catching our eye for a while, given our love for the mountains.
As always—well, when it’s open—I turned to VF, and I want to immediately thank Marie, aka ptitortue, who helped me a lot in planning this trip through her travel journals and our exchanges!
Because Cape Verde is both small and vast! We decided not to rush from one airport to another, to enjoy the places and the people, but also to relax, since the work backlog from being stuck in May (see my previous travel journal 😅) had to be caught up on in June.
So, 4 islands will be our winners from 06/28 to 07/19:
Santiago first for logistical reasons, as round-trip flights from the capital Praia were the cheapest (650 €/person from Lyon via Lisbon with TAP, still!)
São Vicente, because it’s the gateway to the next one but ultimately more than that...
Santo Antão, pretty much the main goal of the trip since Marie (and the photos) had really sold it to me.
And finally, Sal Island, for some rest—a non-negotiable condition for my other half—and we’ll see that I should’ve listened to Marie...
That said, what a chatterbox I am—buckle up, flight attendants at the doors, off we go on new beautiful escapes! (Thanks to Sophie for the easy loan)
Last note for my eager fan club 😏: yes, there will be alcohol—how could there not be in the land of grogue!
Hello,
Since I enjoy not only the countryside but also everything related to rail travel, I’m starting this photo thread dedicated to trains in Thailand (I’d guess most of us have taken one at some point...).
Feel free to post your pictures here as long as they fit the theme: rolling stock**, stations**, platforms, tracks (even without a train on them), technical equipment, engineering structures (bridges, viaducts), etc.—all in Thailand.
For each photo, I’ll (or you can) note the station or line where it was taken.
Comments and questions are welcome.
As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I inherited my love of travel from my parents and some of my grandparents. A strong passion, but one that was unfortunately limited by our family’s modest resources. Back then, living in northern Alsace, a simple trip to the southern part of the region—with the Wine Route as our destination—felt like an extraordinary journey to a land of plenty for the little boy I was in the late 60s and early 70s.
Everything seemed so huge when you were still just a kid.
Back then, I was overwhelmed by countless sensations—I was already highly sensitive, with a keen mind and a nose and taste buds that were developing like a pro’s. Which, as I’d later realize, wasn’t always an advantage.
Those magical days always began with a gentle late-spring or midsummer morning. The interior of the white Peugeot 404, license plate 210 LZ 67, had already soaked up the sun before the engine purred to life, and the cabin gave off a scent I could still recognize today—a fragrance I found so pleasant. Back then, I had no idea it was just the smell of warm plastic from the car’s interior.
Yes, the scents of the 404 on sunny days became my madeleine de Proust...
What’s more, the whole family was unusually cheerful because those moments of relaxation and leisure were rare. Everyone worked, and no one had an easy job or was well paid. Without the *Trente Glorieuses*, these experiences might never have happened.
Once we crossed the canton’s borders, I felt like I was light-years away from my everyday surroundings, and every kilometer plunged me deeper into *terra incognita*. It was thrilling. Far from my so-called "medium-sized" town, wheat fields, cornfields, and cabbage patches stretched out, punctuated by tall poles connected by long wires and topped with vegetation—like giant clotheslines without laundry, where magical beanstalks might grow to touch the sky. Back then, I was still far from tasting their product, which was simply beer. At the time, there was still a significant local hop production. Fun fact: it wasn’t until 2002 that Anglo-Saxon scientists proved hops and cannabis belong to the same biological family.
After the fields, the landscape took another step up as it rolled past the little boy’s eyes, often glued to the windows. First came modest hills, then a succession of rolling slopes that soon formed an unbroken chain. Their 700 meters in altitude felt like Himalayan peaks to me—impressive, inert giants, a whole new world. Gazing at them, an intense emotion welled up somewhere between my stomach and lungs, nearly taking my breath away. What mysteries, what treasures did these heights hold?
And then there were the cherries on top—the crowning touch that made the scene even more magical: proud, majestic castles perched on the summits like impassive sentinels. Monuments from the past, yet firmly rooted in the present on their rocky spurs.
The little boy’s eyes sparkled—he’d been given a castle for Christmas, complete with battlements, towers, a drawbridge, and fully armed knights. He’d watched and lived *Ivanhoe* on the only French TV channel that existed back then.
Only once did my paternal grandfather join us on one of these trips. A tall, intelligent man with a face that could shift from stern to mischievous, clearly full of humor and charisma. Sadly, his relationship with alcohol had taken a toll on his life and, by extension, those of his loved ones. He had a strong personality—if his boss crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch him, which meant he went through a lot of different jobs. Back then, you could quit one job and easily find another. It was quite something to see him in his final stages, hallucinating pink elephants and even drinking perfume when he had nothing else left. The last time I saw him, he’d slipped away from the doctors and nurses while hospitalized in pretty bad shape—at least, I assume his liver was the issue. We were sitting down for a family lunch when the door burst open, and there he stood in his pajamas, eyes twinkling with mischief, clearly pleased with the dramatic entrance. That theatrical moment didn’t spare us from burying him a few months later at the age of 71. One day, my mother told me the family doctor had quietly remarked that it was a shame—with his robust constitution, he could’ve lived to be a hundred. Yes, the family doctor—this was the man who’d come treat you any day, at almost any hour, just for a phone call. It really existed, it’s not a myth!
That day, his wife—my paternal grandmother—was also along for the ride. Everyone agreed that Jeannette was a good woman. She worked as a waitress at *Le Tigre*, the biggest brasserie in town, right in the center. Most customers preferred to be served by her, including local dignitaries and even the mayor. As a kid, I didn’t find her very fun, open, or warm—she seemed a bit stern. Back then, women in their fifties already had the face and build of grandmothers. Same went for men, don’t get me wrong. I had no idea about the struggles she faced because of her husband. I didn’t know that 30 years earlier, she’d had to flee Alsace while pregnant, under threat from Nazi fighter-bombers. I didn’t know she’d had several miscarriages, and that my father—her only surviving child, born prematurely in March 1940 at the other end of France—weighed less than a kilo at birth and was so tiny he could fit in a shoebox. Hard to imagine he’d grow into a strapping man nearly 1.80 meters tall, tipping the scales at 100 kilos.
When you come back from summer camp in early August and ask why she didn’t pick you up with your parents, and they gently tell you she’s "in heaven," you don’t realize she passed away at 54 after suffering greatly from stomach cancer that had spread.
Back to that family outing, that enchanted parenthesis. I even remembered where we’d had lunch when I passed through Dambach-la-Ville decades later. One of those charming, flower-filled towns Alsace produces in abundance—and preserves so well. This one sits high on a hill, and I was a bit stunned on the parking lot because the view stretched far, revealing the Alsace plain below—its fields, villages, hills, and forests. The world seemed so vast and enticing that day, even though I was only glimpsing a tiny fraction of it.
The region was already very touristy, but I wouldn’t notice the downsides until much later. That Sunday noon, I discovered a large restaurant filled with diners. I can still see the enormous piece of meat they served me, decorated with a little wooden skewer topped with a flag. I kept that one for a long time. Those were the golden days of rich, flowing, thick sauces—so flavorful—and the era of the world’s best fries, made on the spot with the best potatoes. To top it off, I was *exceptionally* allowed a small bottle of apple juice, Orangina, or—even better if possible—Sinalco. Yes, Sinalco—like Orangina, but better. A brand that must’ve disappeared in the 70s, but why, and what a shame! Since then, Orangina’s little bubbles have taken the brand to the other side of the planet—it’s now Japanese.
Year after year, I’d eagerly await that ecstatic moment when the most beautiful castle in Alsace, the Haut-Koenigsbourg, appeared in my field of vision. The perfect model, the archetype that blended into the landscape at the height of a child’s dreams.
The trip home always felt like a reality check—less jarring than an alarm clock, but more diffuse and melancholic. From then on, there was only one wish: *When do we leave again?*
Hi there,
Here’s a recap of a trek through the Balkans covering three countries: Albania, Montenegro, and Kosovo. I was with a friend, and we didn’t do the full route (only one day in Kosovo).
It was a wonderful trek through snow-capped mountains and vast flower-filled meadows, meeting incredibly welcoming people.
At the end of the travel journal, I’ll share what I loved and what I liked less.
Day 1: Flight from Paris-Beauvais to Tirana with Wizz Air.
Since Albania isn’t part of Europe when it comes to phone service (at least not yet! :-)), we had to buy a physical SIM card—otherwise, the bill would’ve been sky-high if we’d used our French plan! We got one from Vodafone AL at the airport. You can buy online before leaving with a virtual SIM (e-SIM) for compatible phones, so you don’t have to swap cards. But given the uncertainty about choosing a plan online, we preferred buying one directly at Tirana Airport. Cost: 31 € for 100 GB. That’s way too much—100 GB is overkill. For 40 GB, it’s 27 €, and the plan lasts 21 days. The price difference isn’t huge, and it was cheaper than online. This plan covers all the countries along the Balkan range.
Money tip: All guesthouses and accommodations accept euros. The local currency in Albania is the LEK. In Montenegro, it’s the euro. Bank fees for withdrawing money from an ATM in Albania are pretty steep: 8 € for a withdrawal of 600–700 LEK (about 200 €)! So it’s better to withdraw cash (euros) in France. Oh, and we booked all our accommodations before leaving, but payment is always in cash. Budget around 400–500 € for 9 days of trekking.
Then, a transfer the same day to Shköder, about a 2-hour bus ride. Cost: 10 € per person. Tickets bought directly on the bus. We spent the night in Shköder at a very clean guesthouse, Open Doors B&B. It had a small balcony overlooking the city.
I really liked Shköder, especially its pedestrian street lined with restaurants and lit up at night. It’s a great place to stroll and eat. The food isn’t expensive—two big salads and two beers: 14 € :-) . Fruit prices are also very reasonable: 3 € for a kilo of cherries, compared to 9–10 € in France.
Religions coexist peacefully in these countries—Catholics and Muslims. From our balcony, my friend heard the call to prayer for the first time, coming from one of the city’s mosques.
Day 2: Bus ride to Theth, about 1,100 meters in elevation gain, the starting point for our hike the next day.
The trip took 2 hours and 40 minutes with a break in the middle. The bus was affordable, but taxis also make the trip—though they’re very expensive.
We slept in the heights of Theth at a new guesthouse, "Mountain Vista Shkafi," with an amazing view.
The family was adorable. The husband is a handyman and built almost everything himself. Their baby is named "Sky"—such a cute name, right? :-) Throughout the trek, I found the guesthouses very clean, and the hosts think of everything—no need to bring soap or shampoo; they provide it.
Lunch in Theth at a traditional restaurant on the main road. We tried "Tave Dheu," an Albanian dish with beef, cabbage (very common), and cottage cheese. Delicious but not quite filling enough. For dessert, a honey cake that was perfectly moist—such a treat! Desserts like this are rare; sometimes they serve watermelon instead.
We took a small private bus for 5 € to the "Blue Eye" parking lot, then walked for about 45 minutes to reach a stunning natural site—a kind of lagoon with incredibly blue water. The bravest can swim, but the water’s freezing!
That evening, we dined at "La Montagne Blanche"—excellent! A delightful mix of grilled meats with potatoes and grilled peppers. Some watermelon slices (which I’m not a fan of) and the famous Raki, a brandy served in Turkey and the Balkans! It was my first time drinking brandy "bottoms up." 😉
I’d like to share my family trip to Colombia with kids aged 8. After spending hours browsing the forum and only having two weeks there, we decided to focus on two regions: the Coffee Zone for one week and the Caribbean coast for another. We traveled from August 8 to 23.
Day 1 – First stop: Bogotá
We arrived in Bogotá in the evening on an Air France flight—nothing to complain about, decent service, comfortable, and on time. However, the first night was a miss. We’d booked a hotel near the airport (Abitel Prime) for convenience, but the soundproofing was almost nonexistent; we heard planes as if we were on the runway. Luckily, exhaustion helped us sleep well anyway.
Day 2 – Off to the Coffee Zone and Salento
The next morning, we headed to the airport for a domestic flight to Pereira with LATAM. No issues: punctual and efficient, and in 30 minutes, we landed in Pereira. The landing already set a different mood: lush valleys, endless plantations, and humid air.
We picked up our rental car from Localiza. Unfortunately, the experience wasn’t smooth—the paperwork took forever, and the wait tested our patience. Finally free, we hit the road to Salento, one of Quindío’s gems.
We arrived in the late afternoon and discovered a colorful village bustling with artisan shops and cafés. Our first stroll helped us soak in the atmosphere before dinner at Bambú restaurant—a great surprise with careful cooking and local flavors. We spent the night at Casa Serafín, a charming little hotel, nicely decorated and well-located… but unfortunately very noisy.
Day 3 – The magic of Cocora Valley
This was one of the trip’s highlights. We set off early for Cocora Valley, famous for its giant wax palms, Colombia’s emblem. We chose the 12 km loop recommended by the *Routard*. The landscapes were spectacular: towering palms, rivers, suspension bridges. It felt like walking through a postcard. The weather was perfect.
That evening, we dined at Barnabé restaurant—pleasant setting, decent food, but the bill was a bit steep for what it was. Back to Casa Serafín.
Day 4 – Coffee and panoramic views
The plan was a visit to Finca El Ocaso. For 1.5 hours, we followed a passionate guide who explained the entire coffee process, from harvest to cup. Very educational, accessible for both kids and adults, all in a stunning setting. The tour was in English for us, and we translated for our kids, who aren’t bilingual yet.
In the afternoon, we climbed to Salento’s viewpoint. The valley view was superb. That evening, we ate at Veggie Garden, a simple and pleasant spot that was a nice change from the heavier meals of previous days.
Day 5 – Horseback ride to Santa Rita Waterfall
We booked a horseback ride with Cocora Magic. It was a real success: calm horses, a beautiful trail, mountain and meadow landscapes, and finally the refreshing and wild Santa Rita Waterfall. Without a doubt, one of the best moments of our time in the region. We even got a bonus ride up a 300-meter hill.
We then headed to Filandia, less known than Salento but just as charming. We spent the late afternoon enjoying the pool at MuchoSur Filandia. The hotel is beautiful, in an idyllic setting. However, we also had soundproofing issues and could hear our neighbors.
Day 6 – Rainy detour through Filandia and Manizales
Rain caught up with us in the early morning: torrents of water made it impossible to go out. We stayed at the hotel, reading quietly. By noon, the rain let up: a quick walk in Filandia, a quick lunch, then off to Manizales. We chose to stay at El Otoño hot springs. Great choice: as soon as we arrived, we plunged into the hot pools, perfect after hours on the road.
Day 7 – Hiking and hot springs
In the morning, we hiked the Camino de Super Coco (found somewhat randomly on Google). A pleasant trail with mountain views and a peaceful atmosphere. The afternoon was spent in the hotel’s thermal pools, with a short marked hike down to the river. Dinner on-site at the hot springs’ restaurant. A simple but very relaxing day.
Day 8 – Rain, jacuzzi, and games
We continued to Finca Los Alpes. The rain greeted us again, but this time it turned into an asset: nothing like a steaming jacuzzi with a view of the misty mountains. The kids enjoyed the facilities too: mini-golf, ping-pong, billiards. Dinner and night at the hotel, cozy vibes.
Day 9 – Off to the Caribbean coast
Back to the airport to return the car (still a bit long). Flight to Cartagena with Avianca: punctual and comfortable. Upon arrival, we picked up another car and headed straight to the Hyatt Regency, a modern hotel with a pool. That evening, we dined at the hotel—practical after a travel day.
Day 10 – Colonial Cartagena
We set off to explore Cartagena’s old town. It was enchanting: colorful facades, flowered balconies, colonial charm—just magical. However, the heat was stifling and very humid. Afternoon relaxation by the pool. Dinner at Gestlani, a good restaurant in town.
Day 11 – Road to Barú
A hearty breakfast, then one last swim in the pool before heading to Barú. We checked into Las Islas Hotel. The setting was enchanting: wooden cabins nestled in the vegetation, a private beach, turquoise sea, impeccable service. Dinner at the hotel’s restaurant.
Day 12 – Beach and relaxation
A full beach day in Barú. Warm water, white sand, coconut trees, peace and quiet. A real postcard scene with iguanas and birds.
Day 13 – On to Santa Marta
Another morning at the beach before hitting the road to Santa Marta. The drive was a bit long (6 hours), especially with traffic jams in Barranquilla. It was the longest car ride of the trip. We spent the night at Villa María Tayrona, a beautiful place near the park.
Day 14 – Tayrona Park
We left early for Tayrona Park. We entered through **El Zaino**, parked the car, and set off on a hike to La Piscina (about 2 hours). We stopped along the way at Playa Arenilla, a stunning little beach, to rest. Lunch on-site, a swim, then back by 4 PM. The hike was a bit tiring, but the nature was spectacular: dense jungle, the sound of waves, and even a monkey encounter along the way. Evening and dinner at the hotel.
Day 15 – Last swim and return flight to Bogotá
Our last morning was split between the pool and the beach (the hotel has direct access via a 7-minute trail through vegetation and flowers)—hard to leave this paradise. We drove to Santa Marta’s airport to return the car, then flew back to Bogotá. We spent the night at Casa Dann Carlton, a comfortable hotel. We simply ordered room service, arriving too late to go out.
Day 16 – Bogotá and the end of the trip
Our last day in Colombia. After a good breakfast, we explored La Candelaria. Its cobbled streets and colorful houses were worth the visit. We visited the Botero Museum (free) and the Gold Museum, both fascinating. Back to the airport for our 11:55 PM Air France flight.
That’s a wrap on a varied trip—lush mountains, colorful villages, dream beaches, and tropical jungle.
The pace was pretty relaxed, well-suited for our kids. They absolutely loved the trip to Colombia.
Driving in Colombia was very easy, and we didn’t regret renting a car at all—it gave us more freedom to get around.
If I were to do it again, here’s what I’d change:
- I’d spend less time in the Coffee Zone to stay a bit longer on the Caribbean coast, which was more relaxing for the kids. Or I’d head to Medellín, but I didn’t think the city was very kid-friendly.
- Bogotá is a city that deserves a day’s visit, but it’s not a must-see. Maybe I’d have taken the KLM flight from Cartagena to Amsterdam instead.
Since I didn’t have time to write a proper travel journal, I thought I’d share a few photos of Bologna—a really lovely city I discovered in 2017 while stopping on my way to Tuscany.
Around Piazza Maggiore, which was packed with a stage and chairs for a show, stands the Basilica of San Petronio, massive and Gothic in style, with an unfinished façade (a common sight in Italy).
Another building near the square:
But Bologna’s real charm lies in its porticoes, which were added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2021: 62 km of arcades running along buildings, letting you walk sheltered from the sun or rain. Back in 1288, the city required houses to include private arcades for public use. In the city center, you can stroll under 32 km of porticoes in all sorts of styles—some plain, some ornate—with a strong presence of red tones.
Okay, it wasn’t a total disaster either. Actually, I hesitated before starting this travel journal: is it even worth writing about a holiday that won’t leave an unforgettable memory?
In the end, I went for it (there aren’t many recent travel journals about this destination).
So, read on... or don’t .
Every time we’ve been to the Canary Islands, it’s been by default (basically: where can we go in winter or early spring when we only have a week—so not too far, not too much jet lag, but with decent weather?).
This time, we had two weeks, but the winter plan kept changing: first Thailand (dropped for personal reasons), then Martinique (dropped because of work leave dates that weren’t up to me), and finally, the Canary Islands.
We’ve already been to Tenerife (which we really liked) and Lanzarote (which we liked a little less).
This year, two options: Gran Canaria or one of the smaller islands west of Tenerife (La Palma, or even La Gomera or El Hierro).
We chose Gran Canaria... not sure it was the right call!
Whose fault is it?
Storm Thérèse’s!
Yes, Storm Thérèse followed us on arrival, and its effects lasted quite a while. We had to adapt, cancel visits, change activities...
But even without Thérèse...
Saturday 21/03
Departure from Orly at 6:10 AM with Transavia.
The plane took off on time and landed a little early, tossed around by strong winds before touching down.
It had just rained, but it was (almost) no longer raining.
We quickly picked up our luggage and then the car at the Cicar counter.
We got a Seat Arona instead of the Corsa we’d booked. Well, while the driving position didn’t feel great at first (I got used to it), the engine’s smoothness and power were much appreciated on the island’s winding and sometimes steep roads.
It was only 10 AM, and we couldn’t theoretically check into our accommodation until 3 PM (the owner promised to message me if it was ready earlier).
So, we headed to the (big) *Jardín Botánico Viera y Clavijo*, where we planned to spend a few hours.
We found a huge parking lot... empty.
The passenger in the car in front of us (yes, we weren’t the only ones at the closed gate—there was a car in front and one behind) went to ask for info: it was closed due to the storm 😕.
So, we calmly headed toward Puerto de las Nieves, on the northwest coast of the island.
The plan: go to a restaurant, visit the village, and do some shopping while waiting for early afternoon.
As soon as we got out of the car, it started raining... we took shelter under the awning of a shop, waiting for it to pass. But the rain turned into a downpour, and within minutes, awning or not, Gore-Tex or not, we were soaked!
Since we were already wet, we might as well go to the restaurant—they weren’t far! But here’s the thing: contrary to what Google Maps said, they all opened at 1 PM, not noon!
Back to the car, wading through 5 cm of water because all the village streets were flooded .
The rain let up, we did some shopping, went to eat, and I got a message from the owner saying the accommodation was ready 🙂.
So, off we went to La Suerte, a few kilometers north of Agaete.
The downside of the place, especially with luggage, is that you have to climb several flights of stairs via an outdoor staircase (after parking more or less far away on a steep street) to get there 😛).
Of course, on the way from the car to the apartment, it started pouring again—the bags got soaked!
Enough rain for today! We settled in quietly, and by late afternoon, we could (finally!) go admire the view from the terrace.
Trip Planning
My partner and I are heading to the Canary Islands for a week at the end of September, specifically to Lanzarote. We chose this island over the more crowded ones for its volcanic landscape and the variety of hikes it offers.
I booked everything through Expedia: our hotel stay, car rental, and Ryanair flight tickets departing from Marseille. It was the only way to get a direct flight. To make getting around easier during our stay, I picked a hotel located in the center of the island from the wide selection available. It’s part of the Barceló chain, specifically the "Barceló Teguise Beach Adults Only" in Teguise Beach, which turned out to be an excellent choice.
The Trip
Sunday, September 21 - Monday, September 22
Departure
It’s 2:15 PM, and we’re at the Avignon TGV station. Danielle picked us up earlier due to the weather—thunderstorms and heavy rain all the way to the station. The TGV was on time, and it only took 30 minutes to reach Marseille Saint-Charles. The shuttle to the airport is quick and convenient, right behind the station.
The bus leaves for the airport in the middle of the storm, with flooded roads and cars stuck in some spots.
We get soaked making our way to the terminal. Two hours to wait before the flight. The plane finally takes off at midnight, but just before landing, the pilot announces that the destination airport is closed, and we’re being diverted to Tenerife. Ryanair will re-route us as soon as possible.
We end up waiting 2 hours, and Ryanair kindly gives us a 4 € voucher.
We re-board around 5:15 AM and take off at 6:00 AM. About 45 minutes to reach Lanzarote. After collecting our luggage, we head to the car rental desk. The counter in the terminal is closed, and we’re directed to parking lot P4—it takes us a while to find it.
I’m a bit worried about the rental company’s reaction since the car was supposed to be picked up 7 hours earlier, but it’s not a problem. A woman next to us is furious because she’s in the same situation, and her rental was canceled. Anne-Marie translates for her, but nothing changes.
We pick up a brand-new Toyota Aigo and head to the hotel.
After checking in, we cross the garden, walking alongside the large pool to reach our room.
A lovely first-floor room with a jacuzzi and a sea view.
It’s early, so we head to breakfast—a generously stocked and varied buffet with everything you could want.
Afterward, we drive to Cueva de los Verdes, but it’s packed with people and a long wait. We decide to come back another day.
Next, we visit Mirador Del Rio. This rocky viewpoint at the edge of the island has breathtaking cliffs plunging 500 meters into the ocean. The view is stunning and impressive.
A panoramic bar lets you cool off while enjoying the scenery.
We return to the hotel for a short walk around the neighborhood and enjoy the beautiful pool with its pleasant water temperature. Relaxing by the pool, sun loungers, and all.
In the evening, a very varied buffet at the restaurant. Then early to bed to recover from the sleepless night before.
Tuesday, September 23
After a restful night, we enjoy another varied and hearty breakfast. The terrace seating is very pleasant. We take an inland road leading to Timanfaya National Park.
The road near the park runs alongside vineyards where the vines are surrounded by lava stone walls to protect them from the prevailing winds.
Our first stop is at the visitor center, where the island’s volcanic activity is well-documented. Next, we stop at an area where you can take a short camel ride—two seats are installed on either side of the camel’s hump. This little ride offers a great view of the volcanic landscape from a higher vantage point. A fair price of 11 € per seat for a 20-minute ride.
We then head to the park entrance via the road leading to the parking lot, where only authorized buses can take the winding route inside the park.
It’s crowded, and we wait about 45 minutes with several stops before reaching the parking lot.
We board the bus, and the route offers beautiful views of this volcanic area and its many craters. The journey is very interesting, with several stops for photos.
At the parking lot, a guide shows us how the heat from the rocks beneath the surface can ignite dry vegetation. Water poured into holes in the ground immediately creates geysers and jets of steam.
The building next to the parking lot has a restaurant where meat is cooked using the heat from a well dug into the volcanic rock.
On our way back, we drive to Playa Blanca, a seaside town with a small sandy beach.
Back at the hotel in the late afternoon for dinner.
Wednesday, September 24
We wake up early and have a quick breakfast—few people are around at this hour. Two days ago, we booked a 10:00 AM visit to Los Verdes, lava tunnels created by eruptions and lava flows from the La Corona volcano, which extended all the way to the coast.
When the lava came into contact with the air, it solidified on the surface while continuing to flow underneath. The lava tunnels stretch for 8 kilometers to the volcano, but we only walk one kilometer.
The inside of the tunnel is impressive, with narrow passages and larger chambers.
You can see traces left by the flowing liquid lava—varied colors and twisted shapes.
At the end of the path, a large chamber has been turned into a concert hall with perfect acoustics.
Next, we visit Jameo Del Agua.
This is a continuation of the lava tunnel, developed by Manrique.
There are beautifully designed bar and restaurant areas, as well as an underground lake where you can see small blind white crabs—a protected species in this very pure water.
Higher up, there’s a lovely space with a central pool that could double as a swimming area, surrounded by beautifully designed white pathways that contrast with the blue water.
Further on, you reach a large space inside the lava tunnel, set up as a performance hall with perfect acoustics.
Stairs let you view this beautiful space from above. A gap in the lava landscape reveals the ocean on the horizon.
We head back toward the village of Yé, at the foot of the La Corona volcano.
A 160-meter walk from the church, a path crosses vineyard plots and then climbs to the top of the volcano’s crater in about 30 minutes. It’s the island’s highest volcano.
When you reach the edge of the crater, you see how deep it is, with steep slopes inside forming a large circular opening. The place is breathtaking and awe-inspiring.
We drive back to the hotel via a road that climbs quickly, offering a beautiful view of the island’s northern part.
Thursday, September 25
After another enjoyable and varied breakfast, we head to the center of the island toward the volcano park and stop at a roadside parking lot where a path leads to the Montana Cuervo volcano.
This is a crater that opened on one side. During an eruption, an explosion created a breach in the crater.
Huge blocks of rock were thrown dozens of meters away. The path goes through the breach and descends into the crater, allowing you to walk around it. It’s impressive, and you really feel small and fragile in this environment.
The crater walls, with their different colors, highlight the rock formations. The crater is surrounded by a sea of lava with sharp, jagged rocks.
You can walk around the outside of the crater, but it’s not very interesting. We then head to the west coast, stopping at a spot with a small green lake next to a beautiful black sand beach.
Next, we stop at Salinas de Janubio, a lovely viewpoint overlooking the salt marshes with different water colors. A small shop sells various local products.
We then head to the famous Papagayo beach.
The road ends at a booth where they charge 3 € to continue.
From here, the land is private, and you have to pay to drive down a 3-kilometer rocky dirt road.
Quite a few cars are driving along it, kicking up clouds of dust. The car gets a dusty makeover.
We arrive at a large parking area, with several paths leading to different small beaches.
We go to Papagayo, a small blonde sand beach surrounded by red rocks.
The beach slopes gently into the water, which is a pleasant temperature. The setting is charming and peaceful.
We stay for a while before heading back to the hotel.
Friday, September 26
We start with a visit to the César Manrique Foundation in Tahiche. This was originally one of his homes. The modern construction spans several levels and is integrated into the lava flow, using the gaps to create living spaces. Large windows make the rooms bright and open to the scenery. The place is pleasant, with flower-filled gardens outside. It’s well worth a visit.
Next, we drive to Las Grietas, where a path leads to a narrow crack in the volcanic rock, forming a tight passage where only one person can walk at a time.
The passage isn’t very long, but progress is slow due to the endless selfies being taken here.
We then stop at Casa Del Camposino, a renovated farm that houses several artisan shops.
We taste a local wine recommended by a charming woman and buy two bottles of Lanzarote red wine on her advice.
Now, we head to Tamara beach, a beautiful and wide beach at the foot of high cliffs. There are always great waves here, making it a surfer’s paradise.
On the way back to the hotel, we stop at the cactus garden, César Manrique’s final creation. Designed with a great sense of aesthetics around an old windmill, it features 4,500 varieties of cacti in various shapes, all in a beautiful setting.
We return to the hotel in the late afternoon for the evening.
Saturday, September 27
After another hearty breakfast, we head north to Haria. We stumble upon another of César Manrique’s homes, where he lived for a long time. This house is more traditional than the previous one but still has large, modern, and very pleasant rooms. At the back of the garden is his large studio, where he created his works.
Next, we visit the craft market—this was our original plan. Various stalls offer local items, and it’s very crowded. No room at the café terraces to sit down.
We then return to Famara beach for a long stay. There are always great waves here, much to the surfers’ delight. The water temperature is pleasant, and we enjoy it.
On the way back to the hotel, we stop at a gas station to refill the car, which has been very fuel-efficient. Gas is also much cheaper here than in France—1.16 € per liter of SP95.
We also wash the car, which was very dusty after the long dirt road to Papagayo beach.
At the hotel, we enjoy a farewell cocktail before dinner.
Sunday, September 28
We spend the morning by the hotel pool before checking out at noon. For lunch, we go to a restaurant called "Dona Lola," near the hotel, with a terrace offering a view of the coast. We order tuna carpaccio, which is delicious.
We then head to the airport, just 15 minutes away.
We return the rental car and go to the airport.
A long line to check in our luggage.
The return flight is on time.
A shuttle bus takes us to Saint-Charles station.
We then head to our overnight rental. The boulevard slopes down, making it easier with the suitcases.
The rental is between the old port and the train station.
Once there, we pick up the keys and make one last effort to carry the luggage up to the third floor.
The studio is nice, clean, and simply equipped—perfect for one night.
I’m a newbie to this forum, passionate about wildlife, the landscapes of East Africa, and Tanzania in particular.
This June 2024 trip/safari is our 7th visit to Tanzania and our 5th in the south, which has drawn us more than the north ever since we discovered it in 2015.
In 2024, the entrance fees for the reserves and services have gone up again since our last visit.
I chose to return first to Mikumi Reserve, which was the very first one we visited in the south. Then, we’ll head to Selous (J. Nyerere N. P.) as usual.
Initially, we wanted to spend 2/3 days on Mafia Island at the end of the trip, but it made the total cost too high, so we gave up...
We usually go to Ruaha and Selous, but I wanted to mix it up a bit—also to save some money...
As for the timing, June is a new experience for us. I thought it might be interesting to come just after the lodges reopen... hoping for some great wildlife encounters??
The trip starts in Marseille with our first flight on Ethiopian Airlines to Addis Ababa, then continues to Dar es Salaam, where we’ll finally set foot on Tanzanian soil again.
In Addis... "our" A-350.
.....
After arriving in Dar, we spent one night at a hotel near the airport. The next morning, we headed to the domestic flights terminal, which hasn’t changed in years.
By mid-morning, we boarded a Cessna 208B Caravan with Safari Air Link, heading to the Kikoboga bush airstrip in Mikumi, which we reached 45 minutes later.
Fun fact: the pilot was the same one as on our return flight two years ago.
Welcome on board:
Of course, a driver/guide team from our chosen lodge was waiting for us upon arrival:
I was surprised to see so many aircraft parked there... even twin-engine Embraer Brasilias??
As a fan of vintage planes, I loved it...
On the other hand, the light was incredibly harsh.....!!
Our guides only speak English. We knew that in advance. In the south, it’s very rare to find someone who speaks French. This’ll force us to dig into our high school English memories... from 60 years ago... at least.
It’s noon, and we head toward the lodge.
Near the airstrip, next to the Mikumi rangers’ base, there are quite a few herbivores. They find a bit more peace here—the big cats don’t venture this way...
Our first encounter was a group of Masai giraffes.
Rarer (for us), a savanna monitor lizard basking in the sun right in the middle of the track...??
A large gathering of impalas (mostly males) along with a few blue wildebeest:
Also unusual: a African crowned hornbill taking a dust bath in the middle of the track...!!
When it comes to identifying mammals or birds, I don’t know everything... so I might make mistakes. Please forgive me.
I’m counting on my friend Blesl’s active participation... 😉