déjà 4 mois que je suis rentrée et toujours des images plein la tete!!!!
Je me devais de faire un débrief de mon trip compte tenu que j'ai préparé ce dernier grâce à VoyagesForum
Me voilà donc partie pour le Myanmar le 22 mars 2015 avec une escale à Bangkok
J'arrive donc à l'aéroport de Mandalay le 23 mars à 10h où je changerai mes euros contre des kyatts (1euros=1130 Kyatts). Et ce sera un des meilleurs taux....donc allez y!!! je me suis donc retrouvée avec une sacrée liasse de billets!!
J'ai pris un taxi collectif partagé avec 2 allemands pour aller dans le centre ville(45mn ). J'avais réservé un petit hotel Golden Dream Hotel ( 30dollars la nuit). Hotel propre, wi fi à volonté et pt dej compris sur la terrasse sur le toit...tres agréable
une douche plus tard, je partais à la découverte de la ville de Mandalay...dès la sortie de l'hotel, je suis dans l'ambiance...bcp de scooters, ça klaxonne de partout et on est ds des rues non bitumées...et une chaleur humide et etouffante!!!
Mandalay a été un temps capitale de la Birmanie. C'est un immense plan en dammier...une fois le n° de rue repéré sur un poteau, facile de s'orienter. il se cache partout des pagodes.
je me dirige vers le palais royal mais j'arriverai devant une pancarte "forbidden to enter for the tourists; go to the other gate"....impossible pour moi car trop chaud et de toute façon, il etait trop tard....
du coup, stop pour un jus d'ananas dans la rue....enfin, un ananas coupé en pts morceaux et mélangé avec mon eau. Je suis servie comme une princesse. Les gens sont surpris que je sois seule et sont adorables. Un petit tour pour trouver quelque chose à grignoter au marché Zegyo et il est deja 19h...dodo car avec le décalage horaire, je suis nase
Mardi 24 mars 2015 :
Pt dej en terrasse avec oeufs brouillés, toasts et confitures. Il fait deja tres chaud. Je rends ma chambre et ils me gardent mon sac à dos pour que je profite de la journée car je prendrais le bus de nuit pur Bagan ce soir.
Direction Amanapura pour le pont U Bein. Quelle expédition!!!!! comme dans tous les bus locaux du monde, on attend que le bus ou pick up soit plein avant de partir. et ici, on s'entasse!!!
Tout le monde a le sarong. Incroyable comme ces rues sont pleines de vie. Il n'y a pas un metre sans qu'il y ait un resto de rues ou une cahute pour boire et manger!!
Evidemment je suis dévisagée car je suis la seule touriste à monter dans ce mini bus local mais j'ai droit à de grands et larges sourires. Comme c agréable!!!
On mettra au moins 1h30 pour arriver à Amanapura . Je me retrouverai avec un moine et ses 3 amies à descendre de notre super bus pour aller au pont U Bein. Ils sont heureux de partager une calèche avec moi. Et c'est parti pour une demi journée bien animée avec ces compères!!! Ils parlent anglais avec un accent birman...on passera bcp de temps à rire à cause de cet accent!! on traversera le pont et on dejeunera ensemble. J'ai bcp de chance de partager ce moment avec ces 4 personnes. C'est un moment unique..on a des milliers de questions à se poser. Chacun veut découvrir la culture de l'autre...On prendra des centaines de photos...C'est le pays où j'aurais été le plus photographiée...
On se quittera après cette franche rigolade. Ils retournent vers Mandalay et moi ver Sagaing. Ils ne connaisent pas le chemin pour aller à Sagaing....j'y vais ....on verra bien...apres tout, j'ai une langue!!
Et c'est parti...je traverserai un village où aucun touriste ne va...une espece de bidonvilles...meme moi je me suis fais un peu peur
Un stop pour profiter de l'ombre d'un arbre, et j'ai vu arriver une dizaine de gamins...j' ai pu prendre des photos et le leur montrer....quelle partie de plaisir!!
je continue d'avancer dans ce camp où trainent bouteilles et sacs plastiques...les gens m'orientent...tout va bien. Je tombe sur des birmans qui travaillent le coton. En fait, ils le teintent et le font secher mais dans quelle condition...dans une espece de baraque, des hommes s'affairent au dessus de chaudron. Un enfile les fils de coton sur un cintre et l'autre le plonge dans un bain noir. Il me diront que c'est de l'encre de calamars
je me retrouve devant des barrieres où pendent des fils de coton de toutes les couleurs qui sechent en plein soleil ....c magnifique!!
On a du rouge, du noir, du turquoise, du jaune.....
je finis par quitter ce bidonville et je commence à traverser des rues où il y a un bruit pas possible...des machines à tisser!!!! Quel boucan!!!
il fait un cagnard pas possible.....je vais avoir du mal à m'habituer à cette chaleur pourtant c pas mon 1er voyage mais cette année, c dur dur....
je finirais par trouver ma route et me faire prendre par un vrai pick up flambant neuf en autostop....direction Sagaing!!!
En descendant de ce pick up arrivée à Sagaing, je monte à un temple et m'installe sur un banc à l'ombre car c'est intenable en plein soleil. On frole les 43°...Je ne me sens pas bien et ferai une sieste et serai réveillée par des gamins intriqués de me voir là....
Du coup, Sagaing restera un mystere....car il est grand temps que je rebrousse chemin pour mon bus de nuit à Mandalay
Bientot Bagan, la raison de ce voyage pour la Birmanie....
suite au prochain episode....
Ça commence bien !!! Comme je pars comme toi, seul et sac à dos en novembre, peux tu déjà nous donner ton itinéraire ? J'attends la suite avec impatience....
Bonsoir
Je ne vais pas manquer de suivre ton récit.... Nous partons à deux filles (retraitées baroudeuses) dès le début janvier 2016 pour un périple en Birmanie....
Je pense comme toi commencer par Mandalay puis redescendre tranquillement en allant aussi au sud .... Je ne sais pas ce que vaut cet itinéraire ? Et en espérant pas trop de chaleur
Je réside tout près d'Evry et je vais reprendre mes recherches début octobre à mon retour en Essonne
J'espère pouvoir t'interroger sur quelques points obscurs
Merci de ce récit
Cordialement
Smarties
les 25/26/ 27 et 28 mars 2015 : BAGAN ET MONT POPA
Arrivée à N Yaung U pres de Bagan par le bus de nuit vers 2h30 du mat où des taxis nous attendent pour nous emmener dans des guesthouses
25 dollars la nuit et je ferais une petite nuit pour pouvoir profiter de Bagan. un petit resto pour le pt dej car trop tard pour le pt dej quand je me leverai
Je loue un velo et c'est parti pour la decouverte. Il fait tres chaud et mon velo est mal en point. 1 dollar la demi journée. Le velo est idéal pour decouvrir Bagan. Il y en a meme des velos electriques.
N Yaung U est plus animé que Bagan, et tous les voyageurs en sac à dos y sejournent. Seulement 3 km pour arriver au site de Bagan....c'est tres bien.
C'est MAGNIFIQUE et il faut bien 3 jours pour profiter du site. On en a plein les yeux à longueur de journée.
Il y a juste le Golden Palace qui fait tache sur le site mais ça, c'est mon avis....On se croirait à Disneyland!!!
La plupart des temples sont situés dans la vaste plaine ente N Yaung U, Old Bagan et New Bagan (à 3km au sud du Old Bagan)
Je me retrouve pdt ces 3 jours à croiser des charrettes tirés par des boeufs, des birmans allant au boulot avec leur gamelle, des gamins qui me devancent pour me montrer des vieux temples et avoir de superbes vues sur Old Bagan, des femmes gardiennes de temples fermés qui me les ouvrent..... C'est génial......Faut juste sortir des sentiers et pédaler dans le sable!!!
Je prendrai l'habitude de faire une sieste tous les apres midi sur les chaises en bambou à l'ombre à l'entrée d'un temple en compagnie de moines. Il fait tellement chaud qu'il est impossible de traverser ce site magnifique en plein cagnard vers 14h. Cela fera partie de moments agréables partagés avec les locaux loin des bus de touristes.
Oui je sais...je suis aussi une touriste....
Je rencontrerai meme l'équipe de Pekin Express!!!
Quel régal que de pédaler sur ces chemins...je ne sais où regarder tellement il y en a ....je m'embourbe dans le sable, je repars...quelques photos, et c'est reparti....quelquefois une cahute en bois où vivent des birmans juste à coté des temples et pagodes....et un "Hello"....des troupeaux de chèvres et de vaches blanches.....
evidemment je vais vivre quelques peripeties avec mon velo....la crevaison....euh non....les crevaisons....mais il y a des reparateurs de velo....c'est un moyen aussi d'echanger avec eux et de leur faire plaisir. C'est ça le voyage!!!
me voici enfin au temple Shwesandaw.....je grimpe les hautes marches du temple....arrivée en haut, je reste sans voix..............quelle vue!!!!!!!!!!!! Une vue encore plus magnifique que la precedente............c magique car il y a toujours plus beau de jour en jour!!!!
Il ne faut donc pas hesiter à se perdre en velo. De toute façon, vous retrouverez votre chemin. Il y a tjs quelqu'un pour vous aider. Pour moi , c'est ça le charme du voyage, des rencontres...Et comme je me retrouve seule sur ces chemins sablonneux...je suis seule à profiter de ces vues magnifiques....des gamins me guident dans les temples....et on se retrouve à 4 à admirer le paysage et ses vestiges....et on essaie de communiquer....
Comme chaque année, je vis mon voyage à fond....donc séance chez le coiffeur pour tester!!
Ce ne sera pas une mince affaire car soit ils ne parlaient pas un mot en anglais soit ils avaient peur de me couper les cheveux! je finirais par trouver un salon qui fera venir une coiffeuse pour moi. Au final, je paierai plus cher pour le lavage des cheveux que pour la coupe car ils coupent sur cheveux secs....je veux bien m'adapter mais pas à ce point là surtout que j'avais du gel dans les cheveux!!! encore une bonne partie de rigolade...
j'ai également négocié pour pouvoir profiter d'une piscine dans un beau complexe (Umbra Hotel) car ce n'etait vraiment pas une bonne idée que d'arpenter les chemins de sable de cette chaleur en debut d'apres midi.
N'oubliez donc pas votre creme solaire si vous y allez en mars et avril. Moi j'ai utilisé le thanaka, une pate que les birmans utilisent pour se proteger et se maquiller.
Je partagerai un taxi avec 2 americains et une allemande pour aller au Mont Popa, la residence des 37 nats(esprits). Ce mont est à 740m d'alt. Il est coiffé d'un temple doré auquel on accede par 777 marches. L'ensemble est à mon gout tres kitsch .
Cela n'a pas été mon expérience préférée.....par contre, sur la route, on s'est arreté pour voir comment etait confectionné le thanaka, l'huile de cacahuete, le sucre de palme avec noix de coco (un délice)
Le trajet pour y aller a été un enfer car le taxi roulait à une vitesse vertigineuse car c'etait une sortie sur la demi journée...cela m'a changé de mes pick up avec les locaux....
Donc si c'etait à refaire.....bah je n'irai pas....
Tout pour dire que j'en ai eu plein les yeux meme si j'avais deja vu quelques photos sur Old Bagan...c vraiment magnifique....et prenez le temps de visiter par vous meme quitte comme moi à siester à l'ombre avec des locaux ou lezarder au bord d'une piscine pendant une heure quand vous souffrez trop de la chaleur.
Apres ces quelques jours, départ en bus de nuit pour Kalaw. La temperature va drolement chuté la nuit. Un peu plus de 7 heures de bus avec les 2 dernières heures rythmées par des virages de montagnes....
Eh oui j'ai prévu de faire un trek de 3 jours pour rejoindre le lac Inle...faut bien qu'il se mérite!!!!
Edition au prochain épisode.....
Merci +++ pour votre partage d'expérience.
Il est très bien écrit et très interessant
Je pars début novembre pour 3semaines en solo et je vais "piquer" plein d'infos
Pourriez vous juste préciser, en plus, vos hébergements?
79 living hotel a mandalay
zfreeti hotel a bagan (super)
Eastern paradise motel a kalaw
View point lodge (magnifique) puis aquarius inn a inle
chan myae guesthouse a yangoon
baan udom et fiver view guesthouse a bangkok
voila mais je crois qu'ils sont mentionnés dans mon blog😛
"J'ai plus de souvenirs que si j'avais mille ans."
Mandalay : Golden Dream Hotel....30 dollars
N Yaung U : Pyinsa Rupa...25 dollars mais prendre chambre dans le patio..les autres sont moins chères mais cracra
Kalaw : Eastern Paradise Hotel avec un super pt dej (le meilleur de tous)
N Yaung Shwe pres Lac Inle : 81 Horel Inlay...négocié à 30 dollars au lieu de 65 dollars
Pindaya : Muit Phyar Zaw...15 dollars
Ngapali : Memento resort...50 dollars...bungalow sur la plage
yangoon : Aung Tha Pyay Hotel...négocié à 30 dollars au lieu de 65 car hors saison
Mont Kyaiktiyo : Sea sar Hotel...25 dollars
Merci Gazelle pour ce récit, j'envisage la Birmanie en solo ou avec une coéquipière ( si je trouve) et sac à dos, cela donne envie et de bonnes idées
cordialement
Rose81
Le meilleur moment semble être en novembre, juste après la saison des pluies, là ou la chaleur est un peu plus soutenable.
Je pars également solo début novembre pour environ 3 semaines. Yangon, Mandalay, Anamapura, Bagan, Kalaw, Lac Inle et Hsipaw. On s'y croisera p-e!
Je pars aussi en Novembre mais pas sur le circuit classique, je vais aller dans le sud Mawlamyne , Hpa-An, Bago un petit tour vers Taungoo et Pyay et les environs de toutes ces villes...pas de circuit précis...je verrai sur place....ce sera une première approche pour qui sait un prochain voyage...
Je filme uniquement et suis à la recherche de photos ...alors si tu vas dans les villes que j'ai indiqué.....peut être tu pourras me montrer quelques photos....
mauvaise manip et tout s'est effacé...je recommence......
Arrivée à Kalaw en bus dans la nuit. Des birmans attendent pour nous indiquer où trouver une chambre... Pour ma part, ce sera Eastern Paradise Hotel. Je suis bien contente de trouver une chambre propre avec sdb et aussi rapidement.
La nuit est froide. je suis au chaud
Après une petite nuit, démarchage des agences pour pouvoir partir dès le lendemain pour le lac Inle en trekking. Finalement ce sera l'agence Thomas Cook Jr Travel. 80€ pour 3 nuits/2 nuits. Je serai seule (à défaut de touristes )
Visite de kalaw et un tour au marché...
Yaza sera mon guide, un jeune homme très sympathique avec lequel je partagerai de supers moments. Il est curieux comme moi. Il s'interesse à notre culture et nous échangeons sur de nombreux sujets. et plus les jours avancent, et plus il parle ouvertement. C'est tres interessant. De nombreux fous rires dûs à nos accents respectifs....
il est prévu sur ces 3 jours :
25km le 1er jour
22km le 2nd
15km le 3eme
une nuit dans une tribu et une nuit dans un monastère
30 mars 2015 :
Départ pour le trek avec Yaza
On commence par aller au marché car il n'y aura pas de shop sur notre parcours, et il faut prevoir l'eau aussi pour la journée
Etant seule avec lui, j'ai le privilège de choisir ce que je veux....fruits et legumes à gogo et poulet
Un jus de canne à sucre dans un bar népalais et c parti!!!
Mon sac à dos est chargé avec polaire (car les nuits sont froides), creme solaire, trousse de pharmacie, changes, lampe frontale, sleepingbag et un bouquin
Ca cogne dur et ça grimpe deja!!
On discute tellement que je serai incapable de vous dire par où on est partis...
Le midi, on s'arrete pour le lunch. Yaza va cuisiner et ce sera un delice. Une soupe, un plat végétarien à base de pdterre, haricots et concombres et deux pancakes. Et un jus de fraise à tomber par terre!!
Une sieste à l'ombre d'un immense arbre sur un banc. Et c'est reparti mon kiki!!!
On arrivera dans le village de cahutes sur pilotis vers 17h. Aussitot la femme chez qui on va dormir se met à couper du bois, chauffe de l'eau et on commence à preparer le repas. Je ne les aiderais que pour l'épluchage des haricots car après, avec la fumée, je ne peux plus tenir dans la seule piece de la cahute. Ils sont hilares en me voyant pleurer...
Du coup, je profite pour aller dans les sentiers et voir ce qu'il y a autour de notre cahute. Je ferai la rencontre de gamins qui sont intrigués....ils sont peureux au début puis avec les photos que je leur montre d'eux ....ils prennent la pose et veulent que je les bombarde...
Un chouette moment....
Puis tous les voisins arrivent pour me voir....je suis l'attraction du moment....c'est de bonne guerre!!! chacun son tour!!!
Mais à chaque fois, ce n'est que sourires!!
Je me régalerai avec ce curry de poulet. Ils auront mis 3 bonnes heures à le préparer... La famille est contente de ma venue car ça leur permet de manger de la viande que l'on a rapporté du marché. Le village vit en autarcie, les villageois produisent pour se nourrir. Ils n'ont pas assez pour aller vendre sur un marché quelconque. Ici c'est la misère et pourtant on les entend rires!!! Alors que chez moi, en région parisienne....
Nous irons chez des voisins où c'est la fete. Les hommes jouent du tamtam (un mega super long tamtam) et des gongs de toutes les tailles...le rythme de la musique est toujours le meme. Des hommes et des femmes dansent face à face.
Les femmes ont toutes un foulard rayé jaune orangé et blanc . Elles mastiquent toutes du bethel et sont fardées de thanaka. Les hommes chantent puis c'est au tour des femmes. Le guide me traduit ce qu'ils chantent. Et ces dernieres dansent en faisant des mouvements de main au dessus de leur tete. Tout le monde boit du rhum...je m'abstiendrais...
Apres une nuit bien fraiche dans la cahute et un bon pt dej, nous repartons pour notre 2nde journée de trek.
On traversera bcp de champs où il y a des buffles. Il faut etre prudent car vu la qualité du terrain avec de grosses bottes de terres sèches, il nous sera difficile de courir avec nos sacs à dos si jamais les buffles se mettaient à nous charger!!! Il fait tellement chaud que j'ai mis des manches longues pour ne plus cuire.
On passera des sols couleur rouge ocre à des sols de couleur blanche, jaune ou encore verte...tout dépendra de la présence ou non de l'eau...c magnifique.......
ce sera une journée assez difficile à cause de la chaleur et de la difficulté du terrain
Après avoir traversé de nombreux champs de chilli peppers, monté et redescendu les flancs de montagnes, on arrive au monastère....aprés une bonne grimpette.....
oufffffffffffff....le monastère!!!!
Il est magnifique. tout en bois. Le guide va demander l'hospitalité pour nous 2.
Qu'il est agréable de marcher nu pied sur ce sol en teck brillant.....On s'installe à gauche de l'autel avec nos paillasses prêtées par le monastère. L'autel est illuminé par des guirlandes clignotantes.
je pars me débarbouiller avec une casserole d'eau avant qu'il ne fasse nuit noire; et Yaza part preparer le diner dans une maison du village (car d'apres lui, les cuisines du monastere sont trop sales....eh bah ça promet!!)
On dinera comme des princes dans cette maison en dur avec le sol en bambou....les porcs et les buffles dorment au rez de chaussée, et la famille au 1er etage. Juste une petite table basse et un autel dans cette piece au 1er étage.
On visionnera la cérémonie des novices du monastère qui s'était déroulée la semaine précédente. Le père de la famille est fier de nous montrer son fils qui est actuellement pour 2 semaines au monastère. le quotidien au monastere pour ces novices : lever à 5h30, priere, pt dej, tache ménagère, prière, lunch à 11h, enseignement et pas de diner...
Une bonne soirée partagée avec Yaza et ce père de famille et un gros fou rire quand Yaza lira ma frayeur dans mes yeux à cause d'une souris!!!
une journée sportive qui se termine dans ce monastère......un moment de zénitude
Qu'est ce qu'on se sent bien!
Une bonne nuit sur ma paillasse et mes couvertures....
Je me réveillerai avec la prière des novices à 2 mètres de ma paillasse. J'ai honte mais j'apprécie ce moment. je devrais être debout mais je vois bien que tout le monde dort excepté eux...alors à quoi bon....d'autres petits groupes de touristes sont installés dans la vaste pièce du monastère et dorment.....ou comme moi se réveillent doucement
Je me sens bien ici. On est bercé par leurs prières.
Quelle chance j'ai de vivre cette formidable expérience!!!
Birmanie 1981 et MYANMAR 2002 : ces voyages me sont instantanément revenus en parcourant votre récit de 2015. Pas trop de changements apparemment du point de vue du charme de ce pays pour les voyageurs individuels. Cela fait du bien de lire tout ça.
Si vous avez envie de savoir les impressions que de "vieux routards" ont ressenti il y a respectivement 13 . . . et 34 ans, n'hésitez pas à aller jeter un oeil sur les émotions décrites (et aussi quelques photos) dans notre site :
enviedevoyage.com
car nous aimons aussi partager nos joies et expériences.
oui , je reprends la suite du périple......désolée pour ce délai pour ceux qui me suivent...
Après cette nuit dans le monastère, me voilà repartie avec mon guide en direction du lac Inle. On mettra 4 bonnes heures de marche et de grimpettes pour y arriver. Sans guide, ce trek est impossible car on passe par des sentiers de fortune...et il y en a partout!!
Lunch aux bords des canaux
Puis on embarque dans un sampan motorisé à fond plat avec 2 italiens. J'aurai fait mes adieux à mon guide juste avant
On longe tout le canal pour enfin accéder au lac Inle. le driver à l'arriere maitrise le moteur avec hélice car c'est tres étroit. Cela passe au centimètre près!!
C'est magnifique. c'est magique!!!!
On se retoruve ainsi à 3 sur nos chaises en bois sur la pirogue. Je me tartine de crème solaire car ça tape fort et avec le vent, on ne sent rien.....pas envie de ressembler à une écrevisse ce soir!!
J'utilserai meme le parapluie pour me protéger.
Le lac Inle mesure 22km de long, et 11km de large. mais la frontiere entre le lac et les marécages reste floue. On a l'impression au loin d'une large flaque d'eau sur un vaste tapis de verdure, avec des villages sur pilotis et des temples insulaires
On rencontrera aussi un Intha qui pagaie avec une seule pagaie qu'il enserre autour de sa jambe. INCROYABLE MAIS VRAI.......
On a visité les villages où il y a de nombreux shops et des ateliers. On verra ainsi le travail de l'argent, la fabrication de cigares et la degustation qui va avec.....l'art de faire des ombrelles, le travail du lotus et la fabrication des couteaux
On visitera aussi la paya Phaung Daw Oo où les 4 bouddhas vénérés de la pagode sont transportés en procession tout autour du lac une fois par an et ce, sur 18 jours, et sur une barque dorée en forme de Hintha (oiseau mythique, symbole du pays).
cette sortie sur l'eau se déroule fin septembre.
On arrivera de nuit à Nyaung Shwe
Le lendemain, je loue un vélo et me voilà partie à travers les rizieres vers les hot springs de Khaung Daing....ça monte et ça descend
Un pique nique sur la route et visite des villages aux abords de la seule et unique route le long des rizieres
C'est tres pauvre. les jardins sont bien fournis en salades, courgettes, aubergines et tomates. bcp de chiens errants aussi, des cochons , des canards, des buffles qui se baignent dans le canal le long des rizieres...
Des birmans pêchent, d'autres plantent du riz, d'autres construisent des maisons sur pilotis en bambou. D'autres encore lavent leur linge...
La vie est tres dure ici
Une dizaine de kms plus tard, j'arrive enfin aux hot springs....sauf que ce sont 4 malheureux bains d'eau chaudes......
du coup, je monte au monastere tout la haut avec des marches tres tres hautes!!!!
Retour avec la tombée de la nuit apres avoir poursuivi sur le village de khaung Daing
Au moins, je n'aurais pas été envahi par les touristes car j'aurais été seule quasiment toute la journée....une escapade de plus en entrant dans le quotidien des birmans qui n'ont vraiment pas la vie facile....
Le lendemain, je décolle de bonne heure pour aller sur Pindaya par mes propres moyens comme d'habitude. Je prends un petit sac à dos car je ne sais pas où je dormirai cette nuit...on verra bien
l'itinéraire est le suivant : NYaung Shwe...Shwen Yaung...Aungban....Pindaya
Je laisse mon gros sac à dos à la réception de l'hotel et c parti!!!!
les birmans sont surpris de me voir chercher un pick up et me renvoient à chaque fois vers une agence pour touristes...y a meme pas moyen....je souhaite passer ma journée avec des birmans et non pas avec des americains!!
je finis par grimper dans un pick up. Y a intéret de se cramponner car ça roule bcp plus vite qu'à Amanapura.
on longe pdt un temps le lac Inle et au bout de 3/4 d'heure, on arrive à Shwenyaung. et on me dirige directement vers le pick up qui part pour Aungban.....et c'est reparti!!
Là, je sors mon polaire car c'est vraiment pas confortable et tout le monde est mord de rire à me voir m'asseoir sur mon polaire...à vouloir protéger mes fesses!!!
Que c'est agréable de se regarder, de se sourire et d'essayer de se comprendre...
Les femmes sont belles. elles sont magnifiques.
Il faut se cramponner car il y a bcp de virage et ça monte...
une bonne heure et on arrive à Aungban pour 1.5 dollars
Puis on m'indique le bus pour Pindaya.
comme d'hab, je suis la seule touriste. Les gens sont interloqués à chaque fois...
Et c'est parti pour une heure et 20 minutes de bus....en tout et pour tout, 4.5 dollars pour aller à Pindaya....
Pour moi, le voyage c'est aussi et c'est surtout les temps de transport où l'on croise et rencontre des locaux...c'est à chaque fois des moments délicieux. le voyage ne se résume pas à sa destination...Ce n'est pas aller simplement à Pindaya....mais c'est vivre une expérience de voyage, partager un moment avec les birmans et etre abordée par ces gens et espérer vivre de bons moments dans une certaine ambiance
Sinon autant regarder un documentaire!!
Dans le bus, je ferai écouter à un jeune birman mon MP3.....le jeune était tout excité...on a bien ri
Aucun mot en anglais, juste des gestes et des sourires....
Arrivée à Pindaya, je décide de trouver une chambre . Je ne me vois pas faire le retour au galop...keep cool...lunch dans un resto chinois où ma tourista commencera( pour ceux qui aiment les anecdotes)....sieste à l'ombre et ensuite je pars pour le site de Pindaya...
me voilà enfin à la grotte pagode de Pindaya avec 8400 bouddhas, une immense cave de calcaire remplie de bouddhas dorés.
La collection de bouddhas ne cesse de s'agrandir. On a meme réussi avec des italiennes à se faufiler dans ds caves à méditer. Incroyable comme sensation de zénitude dans cette minuscule cave où on ne tient qu'accroupis...c vraiment magique!!
il y a bcp de birmans . Comme ils sont beaux avec leur coiffe sur la tete!
Pour le retour vers la ville, je n'ai pas envie de repartir à pied. Une tribu Da Hu m'invite dans leur camion benne. On retire nos chaussures et on s'assoit sur une paillasse. Quelle chance j'ai d'etre là parmi eux dans ce camion...on est une douzaine...on est bombardé de flash car il y a des italiens et des allemands qui mitraillent ces birmans tres joliment habillés ....les gens me posent des questions sur ma façon de voyager...hallucinant!!!
je ne resterai pas longtemps avec eux, juste le temps de descendre cette cote et d'arriver aux abords de la ville tout pres du lac...mais cela restera gravé à jamais....court mais tres intense....comme promis, le camion s'arrete et je descends du camion d'où ils me feront de petits signes d'adieux
Arret pour un jus de canne...on rira bcp avec la vendeuse de jus de canne quand je lui montrerai les photos que j'ai prises de son homme qui épluche la canne à sucre
Je trouverai un pt hotel où je serai la seule cliente, le Myit Phyar Zaw Gyi Hotel juste en face du lac...tres bon accueil
J+1
J'avais prévu de partir de bonne heure et finalement, ce matin, je décide de louer un velo et visiter les alentours avant de repartir à Nyaung shwe
Mon dieu que c'est vallonné ici à Pindaya....
Ca se voit qu'aucun touriste ne passe par là....tout le monde est excité en me voyant
Apres multiples arrets à prendre des photos.....je me retrouve dans une famille à prendre le thé, à manger du melon et du cake à l'orange. Toute la famille me pose des centaines de questions. Je me fais bombarder.....ils prendront une bonne vingtaine de photos : je serai prise avec chacun des membres de la famille. C'est un sacré moment encore!!!Quelle hospitalité!!!
Un sacré moment d'échange car la petite de 15 ans parle l'anglais...et elle est toute folle de voir que je la comprends!!! Comme sa mere est fiere d'elle de la voir échanger avec moi
Le moment de les quitter sera compliqué car ils veulent que je reste plus longtemps mais je dois rentrer........
Le retour sur Nyaung Shwe sera plus fastidieux que l'aller car je peinerai à trouver le bon endroit où prendre les correspondances à chaque ville mais je ne regrette aucunement cette façon de voyager....c'est le charme du voyage
Une bonne nuit en arrivant....
Merci pour ton récit, c'est vraiment très riche!! Nous préparons notre périple pour dans quelques semaines et ton treck jusqu'au lac inle m'a particulièrement intéressé.... Je me demandais si à l'arrivée de ton treck, le tour dans le sampan motorisé était prévu ou si tu as organisé ça en arrivant??? et du coup, où était l'arrivée?
Est ce que tu as fait le treck avec ton gros sac à dos??
Vivement la suite de ton périple!!!!
Merci beaucoup. Magali
Bonjour Magali.
Comme je suis levé tôt et que Christel doit concentrer ses efforts à l'eçriture de son récit 😘, je me permets de répondre à sa place, ayant fait comme elle le treck quelques semaines auparavant. Et à mon avis, ils se ressemblent tous ...
L'arrivée du treck se fait au sud Ouest du lac, le lieu exact je ne saurais dire. C'est , après le déjeuner, là que ton guide te laisse aux mains d'un batelier qui te fera remonter jusqu'au village de Nyangschwee, lieu de la fin du treck. La prestation est comprise dans le prix du treck mais elle reste à l'appréciation du " pilote".
Pour ma part, ayant fait le treck en compagnie de birmans parlant parfaitement l'anglais, ils avaient convenus avec de ne pas s'attarder aux workshops pour privilégier la promenade dans les jardins flottants ( magique ...)
Quand au sac à dos, tu voyages léger ( à prévoir avant de partir) avec un petit sac à dos, le gros sera déposé par ton agence à l'hôtel que tu leur a désigné en bookant le treck ( il faut bien sûr avoir une réservation)
Voilà, Christel me corrigera si je dis des bêtises, et l'occurrence c'est mon expérience.
Et je retrouve dans son récit les mêmes ressentis... Merci à toi, Christel, j'ai l'impression d'y retourner !!
"Le véritable voyage de découverte ne consiste pas à chercher de nouveaux paysages, mais à avoir de nouveaux yeux."
Marcel Proust
Bonjour Magali
Quelle chance vous avez de partir....vous allez en avoir plein les yeux!!!
Pour ce qui concerne le trek, les visites ont été négociées avec le guide. il suffit juste d'en parler à l'agence quand vous organiserez votre trek au départ de kalaw .
Et non, je n'ai pas fait le trek avec mon sac à dos. Je l'ai laissé à l'agence à Kalaw et je l'ai retrouvé à la fin du trek
Bonne journée
Christel
Merci pour ta réponse...
Encore endormie, je n'avais pas vu que tu avais déjà répondu....
Bonne journée et merci encore pour ton aide à la préparation du voyage l'année dernière
Merci pour ces magnifiques récits! Je prépare mon départ en Birmanie pour la mi-janvier et vos écrits me donnent encore plus de fourmis dans les jambes. Qu'est-ce que j'ai hâte!! :)
Stéphanie, Québec, Canada
Les Aventures d'Estefania : www.estefania.ca
dernier jour au lac Inlé (5 avril 2015) après 2 semaines complètes sur le sol birman...je décide de louer un vélo et c'est parti pour les RED MOUNTAIN (région de vignoble)......eh bah la région porte bien son nom.....ça monte dur dur!!!
Je pars ensuite à l'aventure pour mon dernier jour auprès du lac et souhaite le voir une dernière fois et espère trouver une pirogue....
Apres deux visites de monastères où des fetes se préparent....je traverse un village et j'arrive dans des rizières. je pose mon velo et regarde un homme en train de creuser des trous pour y mettre des poteaux en bois pour construire une cloture en bambou.
2 femmes sont en train de semer et se marrent en me regardant. Cela ne doit pas leur arriver tous les jours de croiser une touriste sur leur terre. Des echanges de sourire. Des photos et tout le monde se prend à rire en se voyant sur mon écran...je leur demande si en traversant leur rizière, j'atteindrais le lac....tout le monde me fait signe que oui et me montre la direction ......me voilà en train de traverser la riziere......et les hommes se mettent à me suivre.....je me rends compte à un moment que je ne peux pas aller plus loin et que je tombe sur un petit canal.....les hommes trouvent des pagaies et me font signe de venir sur leur vieille pirogue ...... Ni une ni deux....je m'installe et on est parti.....nous voila partis sur le canal....un homme devant avec sa pagaie et un autre derriere ...............je me retourne et là, quelle surprise.....c'est un homme qui pagaie avec sa jambe!!!!! C'est un Intha!!! que je suis heureuse de le voir devant mes yeux et l'homme est hilare quand il voit ma réaction....et moi je donne le rythme.....1,2,3.....
On ne peut pas se comprendre avec nos langues complètement différentes mais on rigolera bien!!!!
Que du bonheur!!
Du bambou et toujours du bambou....les hommes me montrent comme ces iles flottantes aux abords du lac sont faites....
On rencontre d'autres pirogues sur le canal et comme c'est tres étroit, mes 2 hommes galèrent pas mal et moi je les motive comme je peux ("one, two, three!!!!")....ce n'est qu'eclat de rires!!!
ça n'a pas l'air simple car l'eau n'est pas toujours profonde.Je sens à plusieurs reprises que le fond de notre pirogue (qui est pourtant plat ) touche le sol. Dès que c'est plus profond, l'homme à l'arrière pagaie uniquement avec sa jambe et on décolle!!!
on traversera des villages sur pilotis où tout le monde est surpris de me voir sur cette pirogue. aucun touriste ne passe par là....je suis loin des sentiers battus!!! des coucous, des hellos, des mains tendues au loin par les fenetres.....c'est une sensation difficilement racontable mais ça fait chaud au coeur et on ne se sent pas toujours à l'aise dans cette misère ....mais il ne faut retenir que la joie qu'ils ont et qu'ils me font partager. c'est extraordianire...je me dis que j'ai beaucoup de chance de vivre cette expérience avec mes 2 comparses qui sont tordus de rire...
Chaque maison a son escalier pour accoster. il y a meme des maisons à etage. Evidemment je suis l'attraction of the day!!!
Des enfants se baignent dans cette eau où je ne mettrais pas un orteil....
Puis on va prendre le thé dans une de ces maisons à pilotis....incroyable mais vrai....je me retrouve à débarquer et monter cet escalier pour arriver chez des gens comme ça, dans une véritable maison en teck sur pilotis....C'est une grande famille. La grand mère me présente ses petits enfants et on parle avec les mains....le nombre de filles, de garçons....tout le monde est excité de me voir!!!La grand mère fume le cigare et m'en paie un!!!! Elle est tres belle, tout comme le papy
Et un thé!!! et je suis là parmi eux....les enfants me dévisagent et rient dès que je les regarde....
C'est une grande pièce à vivre. Il y a une télé, aucun meuble , pas de jouets, pas de consoles, pas de tablettes ......mais des rires à profusion.....
Puis on repart avec notre sampan non motorisé et on va visiter un monastère sur une ile flottante....je suis gatée....je ferai attention en marchant sur le parquet du monastere car ça craque tres tres fort...il y a meme des lattes de bois à éviter....un don pour le monastère et c reparti....on repart tranquillement à notre rizière.....
les hommes pagaient et moi j'écope!!!!
je retrouve mon vélo....un bon pourboire pour mes pagayeurs.....je suis obligée d'insister...tout le monde est content et on se quitte
Il est temps de rentrer car la nuit tombe vite ici.
Un arret jus de citron et un autre pour un jus de canne car il fait toujours aussi chaud.
Encore une belle journée. c'était la derniere dans la région du lac Inlé
demain départ pour Ngapali
Tu as vraiment passé des moments merveilleux sur ce lac ! J'en serais presque jaloux ! Nous on avait fait un circuit "classique" sur une pirogue, mais ce n'est de loin pas mon meilleur souvenir de Birmanie.
suite du périple.....
Départ pour Ngapali. Décollage à 9h30
Je négocie un taxi pick up pour 10 000 kyats.
Alors comment dire.....l'aéroport???!!!!
Cela ressembe à tout sauf à un aéroport. les annonces sont faites avec un ....haut parleur à voix qu'un mec tient dans ses mains....du jamais vu!!
1 heure de vol et j'arrive enfin....il fait tres chaud. Comme j'avais réservé à Memento resort (suite aux avis sur le forum), une hotesse m'attendait pour m'amener à l'hotel.
J'ai bien fait de réserver car l'hotel n'est pas tout près et je ne me voyais pas chercher un hotel de cette chaleur. Je reserve tres rarement mais là, j'ai eu le nez fin!!!
J'aurai donc un bungalow avec terrasse et donnant sur la plage...le reve pour 50 000 kts la nuit....le top!!! et avec clim !!!
je gère tout de suite le sempiternel probleme de cash car ils ne prennent pas la carte bleue à la réception, et ils ne veulent pas de mes euros...
je saute dans un pick up remplis de locaux qui sont bien étonnés de voir une touriste avec eux. Et tout le monde m'indiquera où descendre pour trouver une banque àThandwe....heureusement qu'à la réception, l'hotesse m'a écrit en birman le mot "banque" que je montre au mec du pick up.....j'aurais été bien embêtée pour le prononcer!!! et personne ne parle l'anglais!!
Ensuite un petit tour au marché....je fais le plein car je ne compte pas revenir à Thandwe. je compte bien profiter de la playa avec cette chaleur!!
Au retour, je retombe sur le meme pick up avec le meme mec, avec les memes passagers car comme moi, tout lemonde a fait des achats et on est tous bien chargés!!
J'en ai profité pour faire le plein de boissons, bananes, ananas, baume du tigre et des especes de ravioles à base de riz et de coco. tous les vendeurs sont éclatés de rire avec moi, on se comprend comme on peut....ce sont de chouettes moments ....ils me font gouter plein de choses....c trop chouette!!!
retour au Memento......un vrai régal....l'eau est tres bonne, les vagues sont ok mais il y a quelques rochers.....va falloir faire attention....et le sable est blanc....
les birmans vont à l'eau avec des bouées ( des chambres à air de tracteur)
je ferai connaissance avec mes voisins suisses et on louera un bateau pour faire du snorkling ....trop de la balle!!!
ce sera 4 jours de farniente....des vacances apres ce periple....
Puis retour sur Yangoon juste avant que la fete de l'eau ne commence....
Je decide de partir pour le Rocher d'Or (Golden Rock) apres une nuit sur Yangoon car apres tout va etre au ralenti voire fermé à cause de la fete de l'eau, le Waterfestival.... et je ne souhaite pas etre bloquée je ne sais où....
Il y a des stands avec piste de danse et des centaines de tuyaux d'arrosage partout sur les grandes routes qui vont de l'aéroport au centre ville. et au centre ville, c'est pareil....Mon dieu, je ne sais pas ce que cela va donner.....
Je dépose mon sac à dos à Aung Tha Pyay Hotel et je pars pour la gare mais il n'y a pas de train....je trouve la gare routiere...cela a été tres compliqué à trouver.....enfin on part et ce sera 5heures de bus (7 000 kts) sans clim pour arriver à Kinpun, le camp de base pour aller au Golden Rock (le mont Kyaiktiyo)
C'est un petit village avec une rue bondée d'echopes qui vendent du sucre de canne, de fruits en gelées, de boissons, de souvenirs....et plein de trucs fris...
j'en testerai un (truc fris) mais impossible de manger ça; l-huile dégouline le long des doigts...
Départ pour le Rocher d'Or apres le pt dej. mon bungalow est juste à cote de la station de bus. Il y a bcp de monde....c'est normal, ce sont les vacances scolaires birmanes....
Le mont Kyaiktiyo est le site le plus vénéré par les bouddhistes en Birmanie.
Une fois arrivée à la station d'où partent les dizaines de camionnettes, y a un boucan du diable....des centaines de personnes ....
Des espèces d'échafaudage permettent de grimper à l'arriere des camionnettes ...
C'est la folie. des hommes parlent au micro....
Evidemment j'ai tout mon temps et je me marre à voir les gens s'entasser et voir comme ils sont organisés....mon tour va arriver ...
L'avantage d'etre seule est que je ne fais pas la queue car un camion a une place de libre et hop, je grimpe....
on finit par partir et grimper la route de 11km. c'est tres sinueux
On est une bonne cinquantaine à l'arriere....faudrait pas que les freins lachent!!!! Je me suis fait de grosses frayeurs meme si on a bcp ri!!!
On croise des camions qui descendent et c'est la tradition que de s'arroser ou alors ce sont les premices de la fete de l'eau...On s'en fout car de toute façon, il fait tres tres chaud...
on arrive en haut au bout d'une demi heure....quel soulagement!!
mais cela aura été aussi une bonne partie de rigolade
ce sera 2500kts pour la montée.
ENFIN LE ROCHER....un rocher d'or coiffé d'une stupa et qui est en équilibre "précaire" au sommet d'une montagne ...
Kyaiktiyo baigne dans une atmosphère de dévotion, les pèlerins psalmodient et allument des cierges. y en a meme qui ont passé la nuit ici. Les hommes ont le droit d'appliquer des feuilles d'or sur le rocher...pas les femmes!!
Heureusement que j'ai acheté une longgui sinon je n'aurai pas pu entrer sur le site. seuls les étrangers paient le droit d'entrée (6000kts)
Les personnes agées arrivent sur des chaises portées. il y a une sacrée ambiance.
Incroyable mais vrai....les gens se bousculent pour me prendre en photo...c'est un vrai défilé
les moines se pretent au jeu...et c'est parti pour des selfies....
la descente au village en camionnette se fera dans la meme ambiance....
et c'est le retour pour Yangoon . E la galere pour rejoindre la station de bus au centre ville....deja une galere pour savoir où prendre un bus, et surtout lequel prendre......car il n'y a pas d'indication en anglais...et personne ne parle l'anglais.....ce ne sont que des hiéroglyphes....
je ferai une belle rencontre d'un étudiant qui m'aidera....
et ensuite je me retrouverai dans un bus qui sera vite rempli, qui s'arretera une centaine de fois (sans mentir!!)....j'arreterai de compter le nombre de personnes au bout de 85!!!!
On est boudiné...et encore moi...je n'ai pas trop à me plaindre je suis plaquée contre la vitre.....
Y A PAS DE MOT!!!! les gens sont sereins....ils prennent leur mal en patience....ils restent zen...les gens s'entraident pour monter ou descendre...ils se passent les sacs de main en main ....incroyable mais vrai...je suis admirative car au quotidien, cela doit etre tres dur à vivre....moi c rien...c'est juste pour une fois mais cela aura été une sacrée expérience....c'est une leçon de vie....on ne peut pas se plaindre de la vie que l'on a apres avoir vu tout ça....quel beau rappel à l'ordre!!!
je suis bien contente de rentrer à mon hotel où j'ai a chance de capter Tv5.....histoire de....je suis nase
lundi 13 avril..............aujourd'hui commence la fete de l'eau!!
visite de la paya Schwedagon à Rangoon sous une chaleur quasi intenable....
et je décide d'aller voir la maison de Aung San Su Kui mais avec le Waterfestival, c'est fermé...
le marché Bogyoke est fermé aussi......effet Waterfestival
J'ai bien fait de partir au Rocher d'Or avant la fete car maintenant il est difficile de faire quoique ce soit.....à part aller dans la rue et se faire asperger......
Sur les grands axes, il y a des stands avec tuyaux d'arrosage qui aspergent les bus fenetre ouverte, les pick up....
dans les rues, les gamins t'attendent et mouillent soit avec des gros pistolets soit carrement au seau.....
La tradition veut qu'à la fete de l'eau, les jeunes lavent les plus anciens et leur coupent les ongles...
Pour eux, jeudi 16 avril sera le Nouvel An. la fete de l'eau dure donc 3 jours et quasi rien n'est ouvert....juste des echoppes de rues et les restos de rues...rien à faire ni à visiter sinon se laisser aller dans les rues et prendre part à la fete....
Dommage, je voulais visiter les galeries d'art....
Ce soir, ce sera concert à côté de la Pagoda Sule entrecoupé de plusieurs coupures d'electricité....du coup, le ville s'est retrouvée plongée dans le noir plusieurs fois..Le concert était tres sympa. je ne sais pas si c'etait des stars ou non mais les chansons étaient reprises par tout le public.....
Départ pour l'aéroport dans un taxi à l'intérieur duquel les housses sont recouvertes de film plastique car tous ses clinets sont mouillés......pour une fois, j'ai joué ma star et demandé à ce que le taxi arrive devant l'hotel pour ne pas prendre l'avion trempée....
On se verra balancer une quantité astronomique de seaux d'eau sur la route de l'aéroport.....Incroyable....Les picks up s'arretent devant les stands de tuyaux d'arrosage et attendent d'etre arrosés....les gens à l'arriere ne ressemblent plus à rien....
Et tout se passe dans le calme...ce n'est que fous rires
Retour en France....les vacances bien agitées sont terminées. je suis fatiguée physiquement; mais psychologiquement tout va pour le mieux. Nous avons bcp de chance de vivre en France. Nous ne connaissons pas la misere et malgrè tout, je n'ai jamais reçu de sourire ou de regards complaisants à Paris....comme j'ai pu en recevoir ici en Birmanie
La Birmanie est un pays magnifique avec des gens formidables prets à tout offrir. Le contact peut apparaître compliqué mais il suffit d'entrer en communication différemment .....
Merci encore au forum et à vous tous pour l'aide à la préparation de ce voyage....
Merci a toi pour ton récit qui m'a fait repartir là-bas , vivre des choses différentes pour un parcours similaire et un ressenti équivalent : les birmans sont des gens incroyables, à la gentillesse extraordinaire malgré un dénuement total. Ils n'ont rien mais donne tout, il n'y a qu'en Inde que j'ai pu voir des choses équivalentes.
Au prochain voyage !!
Bruno
"Le véritable voyage de découverte ne consiste pas à chercher de nouveaux paysages, mais à avoir de nouveaux yeux."
Marcel Proust
Bonjour,
Super ton récit et tes photos. Nous avons fait à peu prés le même circuit en 2014, mais avec une agence locale, c'était top. Mais en te lisant je me rends compte que c'est très possible de balader au Myamar par ses propres moyens. J'ai bien envie d'y retourner en 2018 en couple. J'aimerai faire les régions frontières avec la Thaïlande Nord et la chine.
Si tu as des conseils je prends.
Cordialement
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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...
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.
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! 😴
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).
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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...)
After the summer of 2022 left me with a sense of unfinished business, here I am back in Swedish Lapland for the summer of 2024, ready to attempt the Sarek crossing again—and this time, tackle part of the Kungsleden too.
After much hesitation, my companion Jean Marie and I decided to start with the Kungsleden, which, from what we’ve read, is stunning but very crowded (and it really is!!), and finish with the wilder option: SAREK! This park is known as Europe’s last wild space—I think it’s incredibly inspiring!!
The downside of this choice is that there are no resupply options in Sarek, and the Kungsleden isn’t exactly set up for long treks either, so we’ll have to carry a lot of food for the first part with Sarek in mind.
But hey, we’re motivated!
Our plan is to start in Abisko (classic), head to Vakkotavare (also classic, but with some variations to avoid the official route and the crowds), then continue the Kungsleden from Saltoluokta. Before 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 abandon the Sarek crossing.
That adds up to 17 days of trekking, including 1 rest day + 1 buffer day for weather delays.
So if you’re interested, I invite you to follow our overstuffed backpacks!
08/03 - Abisko – 5km before Abiskojaure
Some info (guides 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 - So, Sarek or no Sarek?
08/13 – Skierfe – somewhere above Rapadalen
08/14 – Somewhere above Rapadalen – above the Skarki hut
Coming up:
08/15 – Above the Skarki hut - Skarja
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.
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 dot 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 colorful mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to the nearby Asakusa 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 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, the 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.
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!
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.
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.
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... 😉
Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.
It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected.
Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel.
I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability.
So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.
I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:
Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras
Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya
Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat
Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott
Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou
To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog:
From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while.
When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing.
The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
Just back from two weeks in Andalusia, and I wanted to share this experience with you—maybe it’ll help with planning a trip. I’ll start with a quick recap in this post and try to add photos and day-by-day details later (still sorting through them). Hope I don’t bore you too much! 😎
Trip details:
April 20 to May 4, 2019:
7 days on the Costa de la Luz (El Puerto de Santa María) in an Airbnb,
4 days at the junction of the Costa del Sol and Costa Tropical (Salobreña) in an Airbnb,
3 days at Cabo de Gata for some rest at a campsite in Los Escullos.
Two families of four, each with our own car: three 9-year-old boys and a 6-year-old girl. One family was more into city exploration (not us, but we’re working on it), and the other preferred relaxation and nature (that’s us). We speak a little Spanish.
Over 5,000 km, including 2,500 km for the round trip from Carcassonne.
The weather: Variable, but we expected better for this region in late April. The first week on the Costa de la Luz was sometimes chilly (< 20°C), and the second week was warmer but not excessive (< 25°C). At least we didn’t get much rain!
Our budget: Around 2600 € per family:
700 € for accommodations, about 50 € per night,
1000 € for meals and restaurants. We usually spent around 50 € per family at restaurants—we ate out for lunch (except for 2–3 picnics) and cooked at home in the evenings, trying to be back by 6 PM.
600 € for activities: Río Tinto, a flamenco show, visits to the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar, Oasis Park with meals, and a kayaking trip.
300 € for gas and tolls.
Preparation: A few months ahead with bookings for accommodations and tickets for the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar. We used a few travel guides—I like the *Évasion* guide for initial planning. *Géoguide* was okay, but our friends’ *Routard* was the most useful. We also spent three months brushing up on Spanish with Mosalingua (a great spaced-repetition method, max 10 minutes a day). Downloaded Maps.me and the Andalusia map in advance—essential. And we used Tricount to track shared expenses with friends—super handy.
What we did/saw:
3 city visits (Seville, Granada, and Cádiz) + Málaga for our friends (we vetoed Córdoba—too many cities for us).
4 white villages (Vejer de la Frontera, Arcos de la Frontera, Grazalema, Ronda) + Tarifa for our friends.
Beaches (Tarifa and Bolonia, Matalascañas, Nerja, Cabo de Gata).
Nature and fun moments: Doñana National Park, a kayaking trip along the rocky coast near Nerja, and the Wild West/animal park in the Tabernas Desert.
A little culture: Río Tinto mines, the archaeological site of Itálica, Columbus’s caravels, Nerja Cave for us, and the Picasso Museum in Málaga for our friends. Plus, seeing the ham-drying process in the Alpujarras (for our friends).
Our highlights
Nerja and the surrounding villages: The rocky coast was amazing, and we loved the kayaking trip, even if the water was freezing for snorkeling. The beaches are sheltered from the wind, the town is charming, and the cave is incredible.
El Rocío and Doñana National Park. El Rocío has a timeless, almost Wild West vibe—we could’ve stayed a day or two. The quiet and pine scents reminded us of the Landes region.
What we didn’t love as much:
Río Tinto mines: Not super exciting, and the guides’ nonstop chatter kind of ruined the "nature" experience.
Our little regrets (for next time):
Forgetting our passports and missing a day trip to Tangier from Tarifa.
Not having an extra day around Nerja to go snowboarding in the Sierra Nevada—just 1.5 hours away (the kayak guide suggested it).
Not spending at least one night in El Rocío to explore Doñana National Park at dawn.
Antequera with the Guadalhorce reservoir and the Caminito del Rey (but it would’ve meant 2 more hours of driving, and we didn’t have the energy).
My general impressions of Andalusia and Spain
Landscapes: A feeling of extreme concentration of a single activity in some areas—endless olive groves, wind farms on the Costa de la Luz (which I thought were well-integrated), rows of buildings along the Costa del Sol (yikes, glad we didn’t stop there), greenhouses around Almería (a shame to have frozen the coast for so many kilometers), and the massive industrial port of Huelva.
What surprised us compared to France was the lack of small hamlets—villages are clearly defined, and people cluster there, leaving vast landscapes without human presence. In France, you find houses scattered everywhere.
Roads: Relatively few tolls. Sure, rest areas aren’t as nice as in France, but the roads are in good condition, and our wallet was happy. The roads are pretty straight with countless bridges and tunnels—the upside (besides fast travel) is that there aren’t many secondary roads disrupting the scenery.
Tourism and activities: A huge variety and richness. Feels like everyone can find something they like, and 15 days barely scratched the surface. It’s amazing how quickly you go from the coast to snow-capped peaks (Sierra Nevada) or from farmland to desert (Tabernas). And the mix of European and Arabic architecture in the same city is really special.
One small regret: Not interacting more with locals. We didn’t luck out with our Airbnbs. But shopkeepers were great—very patient with my broken Spanish! :-)
Overall, I think our choice to stay on the Costa de la Luz and then near Nerja worked well. We could explore pretty easily (even if we logged a lot of kilometers), and the settings were fantastic. The 3 days of total relaxation at Cabo de Gata were perfect.
If you prefer shorter stops, you could try staying in El Rocío (easy access to Seville and great for an early visit to Doñana National Park) or maybe Grazalema for a hike in the mountains (weather-dependent). And of course, Tarifa for a day trip to Tangier or Gibraltar.