Hello,
après bien des années me revoilà sur le forum, il s'agit cette fois de mon dernier voyage aux USA, fin août et début septembre 2019 au travers une partie du nord du pays. Bonne lecture.
Il en aura fallu du temps, 6 ans depuis le dernier séjour aux US, pour pouvoir rassembler de nouveau quelques personnes ayant le temps et le cash nécessaire à la réalisation de ce trip depuis trop longtemps en attente. Je partirai donc avec ma copine en passagère et à nouveau le frangin comme compagnon de route.
Ainsi début 2019 les préparatifs commencèrent, réservation des motos, des ElectraGlides pour cette fois, histoire d’avoir suffisamment d’espace bagages pour 2 personnes. A nouveau réservé chez EG en passant par Cooldrive. Réservation des vols Zürich – Portland avec courte escale à Vancouver sur Air Canada pour l’aller et Chicago – Zürich avec Swiss pour le retour. Reste environ 200 jours à patienter avant le grand départ, durant lesquels on actualise notre ESTA, établissons un plan de guerre concernant le matériel à prendre et réservons l’hôtel à l’arrivée à Portland ainsi que les hébergements sur Yellowstone, attrait touristique oblige.
Et finalement arrive le grand jour, départ de Zürich aéroport à 10h05 direction Vancouver (Canada) où l’on se pose à 11h30 après 10h25 de vol avec Air Canada. Très bon vol, avion récent très bien équipé et personnel agréable. Après une escale de 2h où l’on passe directement la douane US dans l’aéroport de Vancouver on reprend un petit bimoteur pour 1h14 de vol. Magnifique survol des Monts Rainier, St Helens et Hood, majestueuses montagnes s’élevant au dessus des forêts nord-américaines avant l’atterrissage à Portland (OR) à 14h44. Plus de douane à passer du coup reste à prendre le train pour rejoindre le centre et le Park Lane Suites & Inn où l’on logera les 2 prochaines nuits. Hôtel placé à mi-chemin entre le centre et le jardin japonais, avec places de parc. Wifi peu fonctionnel dans l’annexe mais ok dans le lobby. Confort standard. Ensuite tranquille, quelques bières en terrasse et repas du soir friture à l’arrache avant une nuit difficile, décalage horaire oblige…
JOUR 1 : Nous voici au premier jour à proprement dit et il s’annonce chargé ! On se lève tôt et descente en ville pour un petit déj au Starbucks puis passage à l’Oregon State Office afin de se munir du précieux « America The Beautiful annual pass » qui vous donne accès pour la modique somme de 80$ à tous les monuments, parcs, forêts nationaux pour 2 motos / 4 personnes (Yellowstone est par exemple déjà 35$ et nous allons en faire un certain nombre). Suite de quoi on saute dans un Uber pour aller récupérer nos destriers pour les 3 prochaines semaines. Après quelques formalités et signatures d’usage, d’avoir convaincu le vieux râleur sexiste de l’agence d’inscrire ma chérie comme 2e conducteur et d’avoir compris comment fonctionnait la connexion Bluetooth parce qu’un bon roadtrip se fait avec une bonne playlist, nous voilà parti pour nos premiers tours de roues. Le soleil est bien présent et la température agréable, de quoi présager une excellente journée. Après un bout d’Interstate histoire de traverser la ville sans se faire ch*** on prend la WA14, magnifique route qui longe la Columbia River au bord de l’eau, jusqu’au Hood River Bridge qui est un pont à péage. Nous traversons pour tirer plein sud direction le Mont Hood. Le paysage change rapidement alors que la rivière fait place aux vignes et vergers, il y a l’embarras du choix pour une halte dégustation de vin ou cidre. Petit à petit les vergers s’éclipsent au profit de la forêt à mesure que l’on monte en direction de la montagne. La route est agréable de même que la température qui se rafraîchit avec l’altitude, on s’arrête manger dans un petit chalet au pied d’une station de ski avant de reprendre la US26 pour Portland et ses 35°C. Passage à l’hôtel afin d’enfiler des vêtements plus légers puis visite du magnifique Japanese Garden, de ses jardins zen, étangs et chutes d’eau. Pour le repas du soir je conseille vivement le North 45 Pub sur la 21st Avenue pour déguster de magnifiques plats de moules locales servies avec une baguette rustique dans le patio avec une bière et une bouteille de rouge. On a toujours testé les bières et vins locaux autant que disponibles. On essaie d’éloigner la fatigue le plus longtemps possible pour combattre se fichu décalage horaire avant de goûter à un repos bien mérité.
JOUR 2 : Plus de 5h de route en perspective alors on ne traîne pas. On quitte la ville par la I5 jusqu’à Woodland (WA) où un premier plein s’impose avant des régions bien moins fréquentées et donc plus de difficulté pour trouver du carburant. On suit la 503 puis la NFD25 direction le Mont St Helens. L’on retrouve à nouveau de splendides routes de montagne entre virages et forêts. Il faut néanmoins rester très prudent car l’état de la chaussée est parfois aléatoire, voir lamentable… Surtout ne pas rater le détour par la 99 qui vous mènera aux points de vue au dessus du Spirit Lake et pouvoir prendre une route extraordinaire pour découvrir les vestiges de la dernière grande éruption de ce volcan en 1980. Quantité d’arbres morts, couchés tous dans la même direction par le souffle de l’explosion vous donnent un aperçu apocalyptique du lieu. Puis on redescend direction Randle (WA) pour un bon burger au Mt Adams Cafe, établissement local, dans son jus. On repart sur la US12 puis les Rd123 et 410 le long du Mont Rainier pour rejoindre le Chinook Pass, là encore forêts et montagnes nous émerveillent avec leurs paysages, toujours en faisant gaffe aux nombreux pièges présents en quantité sur ces routes et qui se révèlent parfois au dernier moment entre les jeux de lumière et la pénombre des arbres. Enfin on rejoint Yakima (WA) étape pour la nuit. On crèche au Best Western Plus, j’en ai fréquenté de nombreux au fil de mes voyages et ça reste une valeur sûre, généralement avec buffet continental pour le petit déj compris. Un saut bienvenu dans la piscine intérieure puis notre intérêt se porte sur la Yakima Steak Company pour le repas du soir qui fut un très bon choix ! L’établissement présente très bien et le personnel était génial. La viande top, un crumble aux pêches (des vergers locaux) pour le dessert et surtout une sélection du sommelier qui vaut le détour. Notre serveur nous a conseillé un JB Neufeld Two Blondes Wineyards qui était le meilleur vin que l’on ait pu boire lors de notre trip et vraiment un excellent vin en général à un prix acceptable.
JOUR 3 : Voilà que la chance, ou plutôt le beau temps tourne. Ce matin il fait des gouttes sur nos brêles où une mante brune a pris position pour chasser les insectes. Nous la délogeons gentiment et décidons d’opter pour la I82 à la place de la 821 afin d’essayer de mettre de la distance entre nous et la cellule orageuse. Mais quelques kils plus loin il faut déjà s’arrêter pour enfiler les combis pluie, on prendra même une grosse averse sur le petit tronçon de I90. Puis la pluie s’arrête pour laisser place aux US97 et US2 où le paysage de collines semi désertiques supplantées d’éoliennes et de pylônes électriques géants laisse petit à petit place aux cultures céréalières. Quelques petites villes de l’ouest d’apparence peu animée et il ne reste plus qu’une route d’un noir profond, barrée de deux lignes du même jaune que les immenses champs à perte de vue. Parfois une vieille grange abandonnée, quelques machines agricoles rouillées ou un lourd camion de transport de grain vient entaché la bichromie jaune / gris de la terre et du ciel. Il y a quand même deux trois vallons ou canyons à passer afin de jouer un peu de la poignée avant d’atteindre Cœur d’Alene (ID), sympathique ville au bord d’un lac. Le Resort City Inn est très bien placé dans la rue principale à côté du centre ville. Le MoMo genre de resto jap / asiat nous permettra de nous rassasier avec des plats délicieux et des portions généreuses. Notre serveuse n’avait par contre aucune idée de comment fonctionnait un tire-bouchon… Il semble généralement rare que les gens commandent une bouteille avec le repas, ils se contentent d’un verre pour accompagner. Et quel verre ! Parfois vous avez droit à un verre à vin à pied, souvent pas, un verre à sirop, rempli jusqu’en haut, une bouteille faisant 3-4 verres mais on s’y fait vite… Tant que le breuvage est bon !
JOUR 4 : Le temps s’est amélioré ce matin, on espère faire la journée avec l’ami soleil, on se dirige vers le nord par la US95 puis l’est par la 200 le long du Lake Pend Oreille. Très bel itinéraire avec une surprise juste avant la frontière Idaho / Montana, une grande gravière le long de la route où reposent nombre d’épaves de la voiture de tourisme en passant par le pick-up et camions en tout genre dans leur jus. Peu après on remonte par la 56 au travers des Kaniksu et Kootenai National Forests. Environnement très nordique similaire au Canada dont on se rapproche ou de la Finlande. Forêts, végétation basse, sol marécageux où sillonne la bucolique Bull River et son Bull Lake. En rejoignant la US2 direction est vous arrivez forcément aux Kootenai Falls. N’hésitez surtout pas à prendre le petit sentier pour aller les admirer de près et vous dégourdir les pattes un moment. Lorsque le chemin se sépare en deux vous irez aux chutes par la droite et à un pont en câbles suspendu au dessus de la rivière par la gauche. Plus loin sur la US2 on traverse Libby (MT), la cité des aigles, où l’on peut admirer d’énormes rapaces en bois sculpté le long des rues sous un ciel à nouveau chargé. Suite à quoi on rencontre nos premiers travaux, 6 miles de gravier et de terre au ralenti et à la file, rien d’inquiétant, mais ce ne sera nos seuls kilomètres sur routes non pavées de l’aventure… La pluie refera son apparition heureusement que 6 miles avant Kalispell (MT). On s’arrête donc rapidement pour revêtir l’équipement flotte et on accélère le rythme jusqu’au Greenwood Village Inn & Suites où je remarque en voulant récupérer mon sac dans la bécane que mes clés manquent à l’appel ! Ces p*tes étaient tombées en ouvrant le top case lorsque l’on s’est changé c’était la seule explication… Du coup le frangin et moi on remonte en selle sous l’averse en espérant retrouver l’endroit du délit et oh bonheur mes clés nous attendaient bien sagement sur le bas côté de la route. Arrêt carburant-bières sur le retour avant une bonne douche chaude. L’hôtel n’est pas très bien situé, dans un RV park, un peu à l’écart, mais le hall est accueillant et dispose d’une grande véranda avec vue sur les biches (sauvages) qui paissent tranquillement. A noter qu’il ne faut pas être dérangé par les animaux morts, empaillés, dans ces régions. Pratiquement tous les établissements (hôtels, restaurants, bars, shops) que nous avons fréquenté avaient leur lot de bêtes exposées. Après avoir lancé une lessive avec l’aide de la réceptionniste (gratuitement et cette gentille dame nous l’a même sortie et rendue pliée) on attrape un Uber direction le Winchester Steak House. Personnel sympa, bonne nourriture côté restaurant et ensuite on traverse côté bar pour continuer la soirée où un groupe sympa joue des reprises hard rock / heavy metal des années 80-90. Et quand un band joue dans un bar là-bas ce n’est pas 1h de concert en 2 parties, c’est jusqu’à la fermeture ! Donc après 3h et une fatigue prononcée retour en Uber et bonne nuit.
JOUR 5 : Pas besoin de tout rembarquer ce matin, le programme forme une boucle on voyagera donc plus léger. Le ciel est encore très chargé mais la pluie s’abstient de perturber la fête alors que nous nous dirigeons vers l’entrée ouest de Glacier National Park. Après le portique on emprunte la fameuse Going To The Sun Road en espérant qu’elle porte bien son nom et que ce foutu soleil réapparaisse… On a juste zappé qu’on était le week-end et la longue file de voitures qui se traîne nous le rappelle bien vite. Après avoir longé le Lake McDonald la route grimpe le long des falaises en petits virages tout en se rétrécissant de plus en plus. La vue entre les bancs de brouillards remontant le long des vertes vallées et allant s’écraser contre les barres rocheuses est immanquable. Nous voilà arrivé au col Logan, le temps de se dégourdir les pattes en observant les écureuils terrestres qui s’activent déjà à préparer la saison d’hiver à venir. Puis la route se rélargit à nouveau alors qu’on descend sur le St Mary Lake en traversant une forêt d’épineux dont seules persistent des silhouettes nues et fantomatiques. On pose le long du lac avec les motos histoire de garder quelques photos pas trop moches pour la postérité avant de s’arrêter manger au St Mary visitor center. La boucle se poursuit par la 89 où on se tape cette fois 11 miles de gros graviers profonds à cause de travaux, en montée et descente avec des virages serrés… Puis la 49, jolie route malgré un état de la chaussée demandant une fois encore toute la concentration des pilotes, avant de rejoindre la US2 et de retourner sur Kalispell et notre hôtel pour la 2e nuit. Ce soir c’est au Montana Club pour le repas puis le Moose’s Saloon pour boire quelques bières. L’établissement est à voir absolument, vrai saloon dans son jus, sombre, entre odeur de sciure à la bière gaspillée et vieux bois. Tout ce qu’il faut pour nous planquer et nous désaltérer avant de se coucher.
JOUR 6 : Cette fois on quitte Kalispell pour de bon par les MT83, 200 et 141 pour rejoindre la US12 avec pour objectif le MacDonald Pass. La région est plus propice à l’élevage bovin, des collines à pertes de vue où paissent de nombreux troupeaux de Black Angus, quelques fermes en plus ou moins bon état parsemées où il y a de l’eau. Malgré ses 1924m le col n’est qu’une colline parmi les autres, le plateau étant lui-même à une altitude respectable, c’est à peine si l’on remarque l’avoir passé avant d’arriver à Helena (MT) puis rejoindre Bozeman (MT) pour une visite du Museum of the Rockies. L’exposition permanente historique culturelle et sociale de la région était sympa mais on a bien sûr préféré voir les squelettes géants de dinosaures ! En repartant on dépose les bécanes au Western Heritage Inn qui est notre étape pour la nuit. L’hôtel a un certain charme et à nouveau nombre d’animaux empaillés errent dans le hall. On marche jusqu’au centre pour descendre 2-3 excellents mojitos à l’El Camino Bar et notre choix se porte sur le Sweet Chili pour manger, resto de type asiatique très agréable et très bon vin et nourriture. Encore un mojito au passage avant de retrouver nos lits. Un bref regard sur le net m’apprend que le quartier de notre prochain hôtel à Jackson (WY) est évacué car toute la colline proche est en feu à cause d’un transformateur électrique, bref on verra quoi comment en arrivant.
JOUR 7 : Pour quitter Bozeman par la US191 au sud il faut traverser la barre montagneuse du cirque du Grand Yellowstone, la route est large et défile entre les vallées avant de prendre un peu de hauteur entre forêts et rochers puis de redescendre aussitôt ce qui nous amène à West Yellowstone (MT). Le parc n’étant pas (encore) au programme on y fait le plein avant de continuer notre route au sud par la US20 et la Mesa Falls Scenic Byway qui serpente au milieu des arbres et d’aller voir les Mesa Falls si l’envie vous prend. On repasse brièvement en Idaho par les ID32 et 33 qui, au milieu d’un paysage à nouveau plat et agricole nous permettent d’admirer la face moins connue de Grand Teton. Un arrêt bagels à Driggs (ID) et on se relance à l’assaut de la montagne, on traverse à nouveau le cirque du Grand Yellowstone par le Teton Pass au sommet duquel s’ouvre devant nous le panorama de la vallée et ses deux buttes qui annoncent l’arrivée à Jackson (WY). Une élan (Moose) dans un petit lac au bord de la route nous offre une dernière surprise avant de débarquer en ville. Jackson est magnifique, un peu comparable à nos stations de ski mais plus genre western, malgré l’odeur de feu persistante et la présence de petits foyers ça et là la colline est bien éteinte et l’on peu prendre nos quartiers au Four Winds Motel dont le seul avantage est son emplacement. En effet la qualité et la propreté du lieu le placeraient dans une catégorie de prix 3x moins chère si ce n’était pas à deux pas du centre à Jackson ! Si j’y retourne je chercherais un autre établissement. De toute façon tout est cher ici. Un petit tour du centre s’impose avec arrêt photo obligé au Town Square et ses fameuses arches faites de bois (cornes) avant d’aller poser son cul sur les selles du Million Dollar Cowboy pour quelques bières où nous rencontrons des genevois en trip de plusieurs mois à deux sur un sporty… Tcheu les malades ! Bon courage. Après quoi on trouve une place dans un resto qui a l’air correct au Snake River Grill, la nourriture était bonne mais l’addition elle, était salée ! Ils avaient au moins une vrai machine à café et on a savouré notre premier vrai espresso. Et retour au Million Dollar Cowboy pour quelques derniers verres au son d’un groupe country.
JOUR 8 : Un programme très attendu pour cette journée avec le passage le long de Grand Teton et l’entrée dans Yellowstone NP. Il ne fait pas très chaud ce matin mais le soleil est de la partie et le fameux profil des pics rocheux de Grand Teton ne tarde pas à apparaître dans le bleu du ciel. Avec la moto et la route au premier plan, champs et forêts en second et cet horizon magnifique nous tenons le parfait poster tel que nous l’avions rêvé pendant des mois ! On longe le Jackson Lake où la chaîne des Teton se reflète comme dans un miroir avant de rejoindre déjà l’entrée sud de la légende des parcs nationaux. Celui qui nous mets des étoiles dans les yeux rien qu’à l’évocation de son nom, Yellowstone ! Enfin nous y voilà… Le paysage est forestier et déjà on fait un bref arrêt aux Moose Falls puis on suit la vallée de la Lewis River et son lac avant de traverser une première fois la Continental Divide à seulement 2435m d’altitude. On tourne à gauche en atteignant le Lake Yellowstone direction la star Old Faithful en repassant deux autres fois la Continental Divide par le Craig Pass en dépassant les 2500m ce coup. En redescendant s’ouvre devant nous le Upper Geyser Basin son énorme et touristique Visitor Education Center. On vient de rater l’éruption du geyser, on en profite donc pour marcher un bout sur les pontons et sentiers qui serpentent entre les autres petits geysers et sources chaudes, se cultiver à la petite expo du visitor center et prendre à manger à la boutique souvenirs. Et là commence la longue attente, appareil photo en main, pour ne pas rater le vieux geyser qui peut cracher à n’importe quel moment. Après quelques faux espoirs et 2-3 coups de vapeurs voilà finalement le Old Faithful qui se réveille et souffle son panache blanc dans le bleu du ciel. Mais ce n’est pas tout, un autre spectacle nous attend pas loin, juste le temps de reprendre les motos pour s’arrêter à nouveau. Alors que nous sommes dans la file de véhicules pour accéder au parking apparaît sur notre droite notre premier bison vivant et sauvage, pépère l’animal, à pas 10m. Visiblement ils ne sont pas au courant de la distance de sécurité de 25m recommandée partout dans le parc ! On pose une fois encore nos montures pour tomber sur une première imposante piscine bouillonnante d’un bleu clair transparent avant de pouvoir admirer l’autre légende du coin, Grand Prismatic et ses couleurs qui vous en mettent plein les mirettes. Un must go, des photos magiques ! Retour sur les roues pour prendre le petit détour de la Firehole Lake Drive où nous apercevons encore quelques bisons et direction le Fountain Paint Pots. Ici des arbres morts, les pieds dans l’eau chaude soufreuse, nous offrent encore de magnifiques images. On peut aussi y voir une gouille de boue bouillonnante et quelques geysers qui crachent de gros nuages de vapeur jusque sur les pontons de bois. A Norris on continue plein nord et alors que la route suit à nouveau une vallée, surplombant la rivière, un de ces autres gros pépères se promenant tranquille au milieu de la voie provoque un beau bouchon. Nous le croisons tant bien que mal, à 2m de l’imposant bestiau, en ne faisant pas les fiers, espérant qu’il ne pique pas la mouche et vienne bousculer les motos… Puis le paysage s’ouvre temporairement sur des prairies avec quelques montagnes en toile de fond avant de s’enfiler dans une gorge abrupte au milieu des rochers pour arriver à Mammoth Hot Springs et le petit détour par ses terrasses supérieures, suivies des terrasses inférieures et leurs cascades minérales. La fin de la route pour Gardiner (MT) est une descente entre des collines dans le secteur des Wapitis. On peut observer nombre de ces animaux le long de la route et même aux abords de la petite bourgade, depuis la terrasse en fin de journée. L’Absaroka Lodge était très agréable, avec petit balcon côté rivière. On a bien mangé au Wonderland Café avant de finir au Two Bit Saloon, bourbon et billard.
JOUR 9 : Ce matin on se lève comme dans un Disney, un daim broute l’herbe devant l’hôtel où gambadent plusieurs lapins et chantent les oiseaux. On va au mini marché du coin pour acheter le pique-nique de midi, en effet les picnic areas ne manquent pas aux abords des routes du parc, par contre les lieux où trouver à manger sont rares. Nous rentrons à nouveau par l’entrée nord et rejoignons Mammoth Hot Springs où nous bifurquons à gauche. Les antilopes sont de la partie ce matin le long de la route avant de prendre le détour de la Blacktail Plateau Drive. Attention il s’agit plus d’un chemin à sens unique non pavé, fait de terre et de graviers, poussiéreux, qui grimpe sur le plateau avant de redescendre en virages serrés sur la route principale. C’est joli mais à déconseiller aux bikers non expérimentés ! Ce qui nous amène à Petrified Tree ou plutôt à une souche pétrifiée entourée d’une barrière métallique. On longe ensuite la vallée en surplombant la Yellowstone River jusqu’à la Tower Fall pour une photo rapide de cette cascade qui se jette de 40m de haut le long de la falaise, lieu historique de la fondation du parc. Après ça la route reprend son ascension du Dunraven Pass à 2700m entre prairies de haute altitude et une forêt où se côtoient de hauts et droits troncs morts et de jeunes conifères. Belle image d’une nature en pleine renaissance. Avant Canyon Village on tire à droite pour prendre la partie centrale du 8 que forme la route du parc et de devoir emprunter à nouveau la route de la veille Norris – Madison – Old Faithful – West Thumb et ses multiples passages de la continental divide sans s’arrêter cette fois mais avec un léger écart par la Firehole Canyon Drive qui vaut le détour pour longer le canyon et voir les Firehole Falls. Depuis West Thumb la route longe le Yellowstone Lake, son bleu profond se marie parfaitement avec le bleu du ciel, morcelé de contrastant nuages. Ses rives de plages et forêt incitent à la détente et pourquoi pas à la baignade (fortement déconseillée dû à la température de l’eau) pour les plus courageux. On passe par la Gull Point Drive avant d’emprunter le Fishing Bridge à Lake Village. Après une nouvelle traversée de travaux et donc de passage non pavé en terre, la route court encore un moment le long des berges puis reprend de la hauteur en grands virages parmi ces forêts de troncs fantomatiques jusqu’au Sylvan Pass à 2600m. La descente débouche sur la East Entrance d’où il nous reste encore 10 miles à parcourir pour trouver le Creekside Lodge et ses petits chalets sympas. Il devient néanmoins de plus en plus difficile d’ignorer cet énorme dégagement de fumée sur lequel nous semblons nous diriger irrémédiablement et effectivement le Fishhawk Fire fait rage sur les collines d’en face du lodge. N’étant pas, pour le moment, sous la menace directe des flammes nous allons au Pahaska Tepee Bar and Restaurant pour l’apéro et le repas. De toute façon il n’y a pas tant de choix dans le coin. La nourriture était bonne, ils devaient probablement finir les stocks de desserts car les doses étaient énormes, même le serveur nous a souhaité bonne chance en riant lorsqu’il a déposé les assiettes ! Après 2 bouteilles de rouge et alors que la nuit tombe on se décide à reprendre le bout de route qui nous sépare de notre chalet non sans avoir pris une 3e bouteille à l’emporter. L’ampleur de l’incendie est bien plus impressionnante de nuit, entre temps les pompiers avaient pris position et évacué les habitations tout le long de la rivière en contrebas, prêt à intervenir en cas d’avancement des flammes. On apprend donc que nous sommes sous risque d’évacuation, les propriétaires ont déjà chargé le camping car et la remorque, il faut pouvoir partir dans les 10 minutes en cas d’alerte si l’on décide de rester. Ayant bu quelques verres et ne voulant pas se taper encore 70 kil de route jusqu’à Cody de nuit et sans savoir où dormir, ayant aussi étudié l’avancement du sinistre sur internet, évalué la vitesse et la direction du vent, on décide assez rapidement d’ouvrir notre dernière bouteille et de boire un dernier verre « au coin du feu » … Peu de monde sont resté sur place cette nuit-là, mais nous n’avons pas eu besoin de fuir au milieu de la nuit.
JOUR 10 : On commence la journée par un costaud petit-déj de pain perdu (french toasts) et un plein des motos à la pompe du Pahaska Tepee Resort qui était fermée la veille au soir. 4 cols à plus de 2450m prévus ce jour. On reprend la même route en sens inverse jusqu’à Lake Village, on bifurque au nord le long de la Yellowstone River pour un arrêt au Mud Volcano, grand trou de boue bouillonnante et autres éléments volcaniques qui sentent le souffre. La Hayden Valley, le long de la rivière, est très prisée par les bisons présents en nombre et allant même jusqu’à se battre au milieu de la route nous obligeant à patienter le temps que l’un d’eux abandonne le combat. Lorsque nous pouvons continuer notre route c’est pour aller admirer les légendes que sont les Upper et Lower Falls par les South et North Rim Drives. Les Lower Falls et le canyon forment une vue mémorable. On accélère un peu jusqu’à Tower Jonction, étant déjà passé par là, pour rejoindre la Lamar Valley. Là encore bisons et antilopes se montrent peu farouches. Bon nombre de pêcheurs se succèdent le long de la rivière, puis la vallée se rétrécit et la route grimpe pour atteindre la Northeast Entrance et Cooke City pour atteindre le Colter Pass à 2453m et quitter définitivement Yellowstone. Mais ce n’est que le début de la Beartooth Highway qui va nous mener bien plus haut. A la bifurcation avec la 296, Chief Joseph Scenic Byway et son Dead Indian Pass, qui doit être magnifique mais que nous n’emprunterons malheureusement pas, nous rattrapons deux bikers avec qui nous engageons un petit run dans la première partie de la montée, juste histoire de réveiller un peu les bécanes et user du cale-pied. Ayant l’habitude de nos cols suisses serrés ils n’avaient aucune chance les américains, mais nos electra étant ridiculement lentes on s’est juste contenté de les pousser un peu, ce qui a suffit pour nous faire affectueusement traiter de gros malade lorsque l’on s’est arrêté causer un peu à la sortie des gorges. La suite de la montée ressemble à nos paysages alpins entre lacs glaciaires, pierriers et hautes montagnes où quelques bancs de neige s’accrochent par endroits. Encore quelques virages et on découvre le sommet du Beartooth Pass à juste pas 11'000 pieds soit 3350m. Une petite pause le temps de faire quelques pas, d’admirer la vue et d’observer la faune d’altitude, pikas et marmottes se hâtant entre les rochers à faire leurs réserves d’herbes pour l’hiver qui ne tarderait certainement pas à tomber à cette altitude. La route serpente entre les sommets et les marmottes puis redescend abruptement dans la vallée par séries d’épingles. La température est remontée de 15 à 35°C alors que nous passons vers de vieilles bâtisses, derniers témoins d’une activité minière aujourd’hui éteinte. La fin de la route jusqu’à Cody (WY) se fait sur les vapeurs d’essence avec une autonomie affichée de « low range » au tableau de bord bien avant d’atteindre la station service. Passage à l’hôtel, au Buffalo Bill’s Antlers Inn, avant de chercher un coin pour l’apéro. Le soleil couchant est noirci et rougi par le nuage de fumée de l’incendie de East Yellowstone, où nous dormions la nuit précédente, situé à 80km de là. Le Silver Dollar Bar, sa grande terrasse, son cowboy qui joue de la country et son choix de bière et d’appetizers sont parfait pour débuter la soirée. Pour manger on a réservé en passant devant à The Local, resto plutôt typé bio-organique mais pas (que) végétarien, pas vraiment notre choix habituel, mais ça change un peu et c’était bon. On décide de retourner boire un coup au Silver Dollar, mais entre temps l’ambiance a changé pour des hits actuels… Il semblerait que ce soir là le lieu était privilégié par la population LGB locale, sérieux, les vrais clichés du cowboy gay ! C’était assez comique mais pas du tout ce qu’on était venu chercher dans l’ouest sauvage.
JOUR 11 : Le météo est couverte alors que nous suivons la US alt14 en direction de Bighorn Lake (WY). Je commence à me demander pourquoi j’ai choisi cet itinéraire, la route n’étant pour l’instant pas formidable… Mais c’est en atteignant le lac que je me souviens, une énorme barre rocheuse se profile à l’horizon. Presque immédiatement après avoir emprunté le pont la vieille route, par moment défoncée, reprend des courbes et de la hauteur à flanc de montagne offrant une vue dégagée sur le plateau en contrebas. Nous revoilà bien vite à 2500m d’altitude et la température chute drastiquement, avec l’humidité de la brume en plus. Mais le lieu est magnifique aux alentours de la Bighorn National Forest. A défaut de mouflons nous ne verrons que des troupeaux de moutons domestiques. Et bien sûr notre dose de travaux, heureusement pas trop long car l’humidité et la route en terre forment une boue glissante peu agréable à cause du poids de nos montures. La descente en direction de Sheridan (WY) offre à notre vue route et falaises de couleur rouge orangée. On atteint la charmante ville et son Historic Main Street vers midi pour prendre un burger au Cowboy Café avant de faire un tour à la King’s Saddlery & Museum, de fouiner chez un antiquaire et de passer voir la Historic Sheridan Inn de Buffalo Bill. Nous allons ensuite prendre nos quartiers au Nelson Inn, dans l’appartement Industrial. Top pour le prix malgré une légère odeur de vieux poisson peut-être due aux précédents locataires ou à un produit de nettoyage malodorant. Nous passons le reste de l’après-midi à la laverie histoire de récupérer quelques vêtements propres. Pour la soirée on se décide pour un morceau de viande au Rib & Chop House puis quelques verres au fameux Mint Bar et sa devanture rodéo néon.
JOUR 12 : De Sheridan on traverse les plaines par la US14 jusqu’à Gillette (WY) d’où on emprunte un bout de I90 avant de retrouver la US14 jusqu’à ce que la silhouette singulière du Devils Tower National Monument se distingue à l’horizon. La concrétion minérale volcanique devient de plus en plus énorme au fur et à mesure que l’on s’y rapproche. Finalement nous déposons les motos au pied du géant pour en parcourir le sentier de 2km qui en fait le tour et permet d’en observer la formation alors que quelques téméraires encordés en font l’ascension. Le monument étant sacré pour les natifs américains des tissus de prière colorés sont disséminés un peu partout dans la forêt avoisinante. Vous apercevrez nombre de chiens de prairie au pied de la colline ainsi que là aussi quelques falaises rougeâtres. La tour rétrécit dans mon rétroviseur alors que nous reprenons le dernier bout de route pour Sundance (WY), petite ville typique et ayant marqué l’histoire du grand ouest américain comme ses voisines de la région. Notre hébergement, le Bearlodge, est un peu en dehors de la ville. Mais malgré un emplacement peu favorable ses petits chalets sont agréables. On boit une canette sur notre petite terrasse avant de retourner en ville, au Longhorn Saloon & Grill, pour manger. Pas sûr que le sucre glace sur la purée de carottes soit nécessaire mais le repas est bien. Le Dime Horseshoe Bar est le bouge local pour bien finir la soirée.
JOUR 13 : Une photo avec la statue du Sundance Kid, bandit de la bande du Wild Bunch avec Butch Cassidy, s’impose avant de quitter la place. Après coup je dirais que la meilleure solution est de descendre la 585 sud pour Four Corners puis remonter la 85 jusqu’à Cheyenne Crossing pour rejoindre Savoy et la Spearfish Canyon Scenic Byway. Mais mon plan de route est d’emprunter Moskee Road, plan qui commence bien sur la première dizaine de kilomètres, soit jusqu’au panneau « fin de route pavée »… Ayant passé le point de non-retour et n’étant plus à quelques miles de gravier on repart bouffer de la poussière entre forêts et bétail en liberté. Voilà qu’à mi-chemin, à l’endroit où nous sommes sensé tourner à droite, ne se trouve qu’un panneau qui dit « pas de route » et deux arbres abattus en travers de l’entrée du champ. Ce qui nous oblige à persévérer sur la route actuelle plus ou moins au hasard, le guidage GPS étant inutile dans le back country si ce n’est pour servir de boussole afin de rejoindre la US alt14 et le Spearfish Canyon après des dizaines de kil sur cette belle mais poussiéreuse alternative. Après avoir traversé le canyon et passé Spearfish (SD) on trace sur Sturgis (SD) par l’interstate où l’on s’arrête manger une pizza, visiter le Motorcycle Museum et acheter 2-3 souvenirs du rally au rabais dans une des multiples boutiques. En dehors de la manifestation hyper connue la ville est bien vide même si elle semble rester une étape de pèlerinage pour beaucoup de bikers. Les énormes bars saloons prévus pour des centaines de personnes sont bien déserts à 3. Ce n’est heureusement pas là que nous avons prévu de rester mais à Deadwood (SD) bien plus sympathique et animée. Ville pittoresque de l’époque cowboy, avec sa magnifique Historic Old Town, les tombes de Wild Bill et Calamity Jane au Mount Moriah Cemetery, ses casinos, saloons et boutiques. Coup de cœur pour le shop de Sick Boy Motorcycles. On dort au Deadwood Dick’s Hotel / Antiques / Saloon / Eatery… Un voyage dans le temps dans un bâtiment datant des années fin 1800 avec un ascenseur Otis tout aussi vieux qui peut s’avérer assez inquiétant à emprunter ! Sans parler du bric-à-brac entassé dans la boutique. Drôle d’expérience mais on s’est bien marré avec la propriétaire et elle nous a surclassé dans une suite (2 chambres, 1 kitchenette) au style résolument vintage (pour pas dire usé d’époque). Pas sûr que vous trouviez le véritable Saloon N°10, lieu de l’assassinat de Wild Bill étant donné que l’original a brûlé en même temps que le camp de mineurs. Mais un arrêt au Wild Bill Bar et Trading Post pour l’apéro est obligatoire tant la déco, l’ambiance et l’amabilité du serveur vous font remonter le temps. Cet établissement est un petit musée à lui seul. On s’arrête ensuite au Mavericks Steaks & Cocktails pour la bouffe avant de continuer au Old Style Saloon N°10 où un excellent groupe genre rock’n’roll, blues, soul nous fait danser devant le regard ravi d’un couple de retraités alors que le frangin se perd aux tables de jeu.
JOUR 14 : On a trouvé une carte touristique des Black Hills et des Badlands qui affiche clairement quelles sont les routes pavées, nous éviterons donc les graviers ces prochains jours. On prend donc un petit déj au Starbucks pour commencer la journée et finir de modifier l’itinéraire du jour. Départ par la 385 sud jusqu’à la bifurcation pour la 87 et notre premier objectif de la journée, la Needles Highway. L’entrée du Custer State Park est de 10$ par moto mais ça en vaut la peine. La route s’enfile entre pointes rocheuses et tunnels étriqués avec une large vue surplombant la vallée. On emprunte ensuite la Wildlife Loop Road où l’on croise ici aussi bisons, antilopes et chiens de prairie avant d’entamer l’ascension de l’Iron Mountain Road. De nombreux virages et là aussi tunnels serrés défilent, notamment les célèbres virages à 360°, formant une boucle en tire-bouchon. Nous pouvons apercevoir au détour d’une forêt ou à la sortie d’un tunnel le Mount Rushmore se détachant à l’horizon. Encore quelques courbes à se traîner derrière un foutu car qui passe les tunnels au centimètre et nous voilà au parking (10$ là aussi) des immenses têtes sculptées. Il y a beaucoup de monde et le site est en travaux donc on ne fait pas long, quelques photos et une boisson plus tard et on reprend la piste. On passe par la 16 pour remonter la 385 sur quelques kils et tourner à droite sur la Rimrock Highway 44 direction Rapid City (SD). Bref stop à Chapel in the Hills, église de type nordique, avant de débarquer au Town House Motel. Etablissement pour travailleurs de passage, mais propre et à 60$ la nuit autant celui-ci que celui de Jackson à 4x plus ! Une ballade dans les rues de la cité des présidents et vous constaterez que chaque croisement de downtown a sa statue grandeur nature d’un président américains, manque encore l’ami Donald qui devrait débarquer sous peu. La terrasse de la Firehouse Winery fait l’affaire pour un apéro dégustation de jus de raisin fermenté. Soirée européenne, on mange et boit italien au Boticelli, plutôt moyen, puis on finit la soirée à la bière au Paddy O’Neill’s Irish Pub.
JOUR 15 : Le temps se maintient jusqu’à Scenic (SD), heureusement car la ville quasiment abandonnée offre quelques vieilles bâtisses idéales pour une photo souvenir. Alors que la météo s’assombrit les premiers contreforts des Badlands apparaissent ça et là en bordure de route. La Badlands State Scenic Byway est magnifique, l’ambiance est sombre et glauque et à défaut de donner des belles photos elle laisse une impression pesante. Des collines striées bicolores aux crêtes dentelées s’étalent à perte de vue, mais la pluie s’invite à la fête jusqu’à Wall (SD) où la visite du Wall Drugstore est fortement conseillée et nous permet de nous abriter un moment. On casse la croûte au Badlands Saloon & Grille, merveilleux glaçage au whiskey sur un morceau de black angus. Puis on retrouve quelques gouttes de pluie sur la 14 jusqu’à Pierre (SD) au Baymont Inn. Le RedRossa Italian Grille est bien meilleur que celui de la veille mais bien moins typé italien. On part ensuite à la recherche d’un bar billard pour une soirée tranquille. On tombe sur le Longbranch, qui a l’air bien fermé, mais en poussant la porte s’ouvre… Pas grand monde en dedans si ce n’est le barman et un mec au bar, on commande à boire et entamons une partie de billard, puis de fléchettes. Le type du bar se pointe et nous propose un baby foot à 4. Il nous dit qu’il est le patron et que le week-end c’est rempli de monde, qu’il y a des groupes live et des karaokés. Et là c’était foutu… on a starté le karaoké avec le boss et les cuisiniers jusqu’à la fermeture, mais on a aussi eu une sévère addition niveau boissons à la fin ! La rentrée, ivre, était plutôt comique et le dinosaure de la station service Sinclair Oil a servi de monture pour quelques photos au passage…
JOUR 16 : N’ayant pas trouvé de crèche valable à Pipestone (MN), une tornade étant passée par Sioux Falls (SD), on tire plein Est par la 14 au travers de nombreux champs en grande partie inondés sous un ciel gris. Alors qu’on s’arrête pour manger un burger dans un diner des plus local et dans son jus à De Smet (SD), on apprend par hasard qu’il s’agit de la ville où a en partie vécu Laura Ingalls Wilder (auteur de La Petite Maison Dans La Prairie) et passons donc voir le memorial. La suite du trajet ressemble en tout point à la matinée à la différence près que je monte en passager derrière mon frère, pour prendre quelques images de la copine au guidon de l’Electra, jusqu’à Brookings (SD). On y a réservé une chambre au Super 8 en zone commerciale donc pas de sortie spéciale ce soir, simplement une bonne bouffe au Whiskey Creek Wood Fire Grill et leurs baby back ribs incroyables. Epaisses, tendres et juteuses, la viande tombe toute seule des os… Quand je vois les tristes racks décharnés qu’on nous sert chez nous.
JOUR 17 : Ce matin on poursuit notre route sur la US14, le paysage défile semblable à la veille jusqu’à Bloomington (MN) et son Mall Of America, 2e plus grand centre commercial des US. Plus de 520 magasins, 14 cinés, une cinquantaine de restos et fast-foods, 8 discothèques, une chapelle et de multiples attractions dont un rollercoaster et un Sea-Life aquarium. On commence donc par un repas au Rainforest Café que mes compagnons de route ne connaissaient pas encore avant un tour des innombrables boutiques. Notamment un grand magasin de déguisements et décoration, un d’équipement country / cowboy, les stores Carhartt, Crayola, Lego, Disney et Victoria’s Secret parmi nos arrêts. Un tour sur le grand huit de Bob l’éponge, qui malgré sa taille réduite, comporte tous les acrobaties nécessaires. Puis une visite de l’aquarium avant de finir par un fly-over America. Sorte de cinéma 4D qui vous fait visiter les grands paysages américains en « volant ». Pour les 2 derniers un billet combiné est théoriquement disponible, mais après que le responsable de caisse de l’aquarium ait essayé de nous le sortir pendant 15 minutes sans résultat, il nous a offert le ticket du fly-over et fait une réduc sur l’entrée du Sea-Life… Bonne affaire ! Finalement on a quand même passé 6h dans le centre avant de finir le bout de route qui nous sépare de Minneapolis (MN) et du Holiday Inn Downtown. Très bon repas au Firelake Grill House. On erre ensuite dans un downtown plutôt mal fréquenté par des crackheads à cette heure à la recherche d’un endroit pour boire un verre, sans grand résultat. On finira la soirée par une bière dans un pub.
JOUR 18 : On quitte la grande ville par la US10 pour rejoindre le Wisconsin et la 35, la Great River Road, par laquelle nous longeons le majestueux Mississippi, traversant nombre de villages des plus typiques aux maisonnettes de bois coloré. Certains au nom à consonance française tel Trempaleau (WI) où nous nous arrêtons pour manger. Des ponts en travaux avant Prairie du Chien (WI) nous obligent à modifier notre itinéraire pour Madison (WI), nous empruntons donc la 171 qui file entre les collines, les fermes et les vergers. Très belle route qui change un peu du grand fleuve et permet de découvrir les beautés de la campagne avant d’atteindre la capitale de l’état. Cité universitaire logée entre 3 lacs, centrée autour de son capitole. Le Hampton Inn & Suites Downtown est bien situé et dispose d’un bon parking (payant bien sûr). Nous nous aventurons en ville en se dirigeant en direction du capitole, c’est vendredi et il y a beaucoup d’étudiants et de monde en général qui font la file devant les restaurants qui donnent bonne impression. On trouve une table au Rare Steakhouse, ambiance très tamisée pour ne pas dire carrément sombre mais confortable, très bonnes pièces de viande et pour accompagnement un Lobster Mac & Cheese (sorte de macaronis au fromage au homard) juste incroyable. Leur carte des vins est aussi remarquable. La soirée continue au Red Rock Saloon, bel établissement, bon concert, beaucoup d’ambiance mais fréquentation essentiellement estudiantine très jeune.
JOUR 19 : Journée pèlerinage en perspective, mais d’abord il nous faut tirer plein est par la US18, nous visitons là encore l’arrière pays, croisant lacs et charmantes petites villes paisibles. L’arrivée à Milwaukee (WI) est un peu plus stressante et nous choisissons de rallier la Mecque (ou plus exactement le Harley-Davidson Museum) par l’interstate afin de ne pas perdre du temps à traverser la ville. Nous voilà donc dans l’antre de la marque où sont alignés quantité de modèles historiques, des débuts de l’aventure au futur proche. Les différentes générations de moteurs, de peintures de réservoir ainsi que des curiosités et diverses motos célèbres. A l’extérieur se trouvent bien entendu un café où boire et manger, une boutique et une concess. Donc après en avoir fait le tour on rejoint la 32 et on longe le lac Michigan jusqu’à Zion (IL) pour passer la nuit à The Inn at Market Square. Rien de très intéressant aux alentours, on prend quelques bières dans une station service pour l’apéro avant de descendre manger au restaurant de l’hôtel, le Bailey’s. Rien de spécial, mais l’équipe de service était bien cool et on a tapé des verres avec et servi de cobayes pour de nouveaux shakers jusqu’à la fermeture.
JOUR 20 : Pour ceux qui connaissent seuls 2 mots suffisent : SIX FLAGS ! Pour les autres il s’agit de parcs d’attractions basés essentiellement sur les rollercoasters (grands huit). Rien à voir avec Disneyland Paris ou Europa Park, là c’est d’un autre niveau… Et malgré que ce soit un dimanche le parc n’est pas blindé, on a le temps de faire toutes les attractions principales et de se mettre la tête à l’envers avant de reprendre la voie rapide pour notre étape finale, la grande ville de Chicago (IL). Le Ohio House Motel est plutôt bien situé, dispose d’un parking et est à un prix très raisonnable pour le coin. On mange au Bavette’s, resto chic, là aussi dans la pénombre, ambiance vintage époque prohibition. Très bonne cuisine et vin ici aussi. Ensuite un arrêt dans un endroit mythique de la ville s’impose. Le Blue Chicago étant ouvert le lundi c’est là que l’on se pose pour écouter un bon groupe blues en live et boire quelques bières.
JOUR 21 : Journée en ville qui commence dans une brume au point que les sommets des gratte-ciels restent invisibles. On va voir le début de la route 66, le loop et son métro aérien ce qui nous mène au Lou Mitchell’s, arrêt obligatoire tant pour les touristes voulant fréquenter un bout d’histoire que pour les travailleurs locaux voulant se remplir l’estomac. Après un brunch des plus solides on suit le Riverwalk peu fréquenté à cause de la période et de la météo. Alors qu’une éclaircie fait son apparition nous tentons l’ascension de la Willis Tower en espérant apercevoir un minimum de vue. On arrive quand même à prendre quelques photos au dessus du vide par le balcon de verre malgré les nuages persistants. Le spectacle des gens ayant peur de la hauteur ou du sol transparent vaut à lui seul le détour. Le retour à l’hôtel se fait par le Magnificent Mile, l’avenue commerciale. Ayant bien assez marché nous mangeons au Hard Rock Café pas loin de l’hôtel puis finissons avec une partie de billard dans un sports bar des environs.
DERNIER JOUR : Le vol est en fin de journée mais il faut rendre nos fidèles montures pour 10h. Il faut donc vite refaire son sac et traverser la ville pour rejoindre l’agence EG à Rosemont (IL) où l’on rend des motos vraiment sales car jamais lavées et avec env 6700 km de plus au compteur au grand étonnement du personnel et d’une bande de touristes français et suisses, tous habillés en vêtements de prêt Eagle Rider, qui partent faire la Mother Road en voyage organisé, accompagnés du minibus suiveur. Probablement le voyage de leur vie mais perso je ne pourrais pas, chacun son truc… On se rend ensuite à l’aéroport à la recherche d’une consigne où laisser nos bagages pour la journée, mais probablement pour raisons de sécurité dues aux attentats ça n’existe plus. Nous prenons les transports publics pour passer l’après-midi tranquille au zoo (qui dispose de casiers lui) avant de revenir sur l’aéroport pour un dernier repas et de quitter le pays pour de bon (jusqu’au prochain trip !) avec un peu d’amertume mais aussi beaucoup d’images dans la tête. Le décollage de nuit avec la vue sur Chicago illuminée nous offre un dernier souvenir en guise d’au revoir.
Le mot de la fin : ça a été, cette fois encore, une expérience inoubliable, un voyage génial avec des paysages et des lieux visités magnifiques. Je peux dire que j’ai vu Yellowstone une fois dans ma vie, mais pas seulement. Les US ne se limitent pas aux parcs nationaux, grandes villes et autres lieux touristiques. Les meilleures découvertes et les plus belles rencontres ont lieu dans des endroits improbables et reculés, en général peu fréquentés où la vie n’a pas encore été corrompue par la manne financière des masses. L’état de Washington est toujours je pense mon préféré, sa côte pacifique, sa forêt primaire, ses montagnes, lacs et rivières, ses vergers et vignes en font un paradis encore préservé. A noter quand même que le mois de septembre est peut-être le dernier moment pour rouler à moto dans le nord, une mauvaise météo et le risque de neige deviennent importants ensuite. Il ne faut pas oublier que même si c’est souvent relativement plat l’altitude est vite élevée. J’aurais apprécié voir un mouflon, un loup et un ours, j’aurais même échangé quelques dizaines de bisons pour ça mais tant pis ça fait partie du jeu. On a quand même pu observer en vrac de nombreux écureuils (tamia, gris, roux, terrestre), chiens de prairies, marmottes, pikas, lapins, blaireau américain, biches, antilopes, wapitis, élan, bisons et d’innombrables oiseaux dont des dindons sauvages et des oies du Canada. Le prochain roadbook est lui aussi déjà prêt depuis bon nombre d’années, reste qu’à attendre qu’une nouvelle occasion se présente avant de rempiler pour un trip du côté est cette fois…
Comment faire pour ne pas repartir sur les routes US lorsqu'on est un passionné de grands espaces, de moto et d'évasion? Si rouler en Europe, pour des…
Cette année, Claire (my love d'amour à moi) et moi même, avons fait un roadtrip dans le nord ouest, bien moins prisé du tourisme de masse que le Sud ouest…
Oui résumé et pas carnet!!! Je vais essayer de faire court, car un carnet prend énormément de temps et beaucoup de gens font beaucoup mieux que moi ici. Pour…
Le rêve américain. Notre rêve américain. Celui qui a valeur de mythe pour les passionnés de randonnées en 2-roues que nous sommes. 2-roues, oui, mais pas…
Voici notre carnet sur le trajet Seattle / San Diego, que nous avons fait en été 2011, avec une grosse boucle en Oregon. Présentation du voyage Comment en…
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...)
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.
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...
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.
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.
Here’s our account of our trip to Malaysia from September 11th to 27th.
I hope our tips can help others as much as this forum has helped us!
Day 0:
Departure from Nantes with a transfer in Amsterdam via KLM (720 €).
Day 1:
We arrive at KLIA1 in the early afternoon.
First challenge: figuring out where to pick up our luggage. Turns out the answer is right under our noses—we need to take the airport’s internal metro!
Once we’ve got our bags, we withdraw some cash from a Maybank ATM right there.
Next up: SIM card! Just outside the arrivals hall, several kiosks offer them. We go for a Celcom 5 GB card (70 RM).
Then it’s taxi time to get to KL, in the Bukit Bintang area—about 85 RM in a slightly old taxi with weak air conditioning.
We check into our Airbnb apartment, which is clean, more spacious than a hotel room, and—best of all—has a charming balcony with a gorgeous nighttime view!
We end up hanging out on that balcony, reviewing our plans for the next day. After dark, we take the monorail just a short walk away to enjoy our first evening on a rooftop at the 34th floor: Hélipad (Raja Chulan station—you have to enter the Menara Tower at the base of the station) with a panoramic view of the city and its iconic towers.
Finally, we head to Jalan Alor to grab a bite in this super busy street.
Big sleep ahead! 😴
After 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
After a pretty disastrous weather-wise trip to Gran Canaria, we’re hoping this time the sun will shine in Puglia.
It’s not a sure thing, though—the weather’s been awful all over Europe in early May.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16:
This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us.
The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!!
The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that Italian cars don’t have turn signals 😮... except for rental cars).
About an hour later, we arrive at our first accommodation, right in the middle of the countryside near Monopoli.
The owner isn’t there, but they’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch.
We explore the property:
And the next morning before breakfast, its immediate surroundings:
Sunday, May 17:
After our "seaside" experience in Gran Canaria last weekend (packed with people and locals), we decide to start inland.
After a hearty breakfast,
we head toward Alberobello, a super touristy village famous for its trulli—those stone houses with conical roofs.
We easily find a free parking spot on a street near the Aia Piccola district, where some trulli are still lived in year-round.
We almost immediately come across the Trullo Sovrano (the only two-story one), which you can visit (but we skip it—it’s opening time, and there’s already a line).
From there, we head down toward the Basilica of Cosma e Damiano... but we don’t go in because there’s a mass.
Now we’re on the main Piazza del Popolo, which connects the two districts of Alberobello: Rione Aia Piccola and Rione Monti, the more touristy one.
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions...
So, now that I've just finished my Japan travel journal here, I figured it was high time to honor this destination we came back from so enchanted.
Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some!
Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!
I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to include fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to take her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can slip away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!
Anyway, since I love maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red); we only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband’s newly retired, I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.
In broad strokes, it was very classic:
First, we “settled in” at Luang Prabang (8 days), because we wanted and needed to.
From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we know, distances aren’t just about km!
Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4,000 Islands while stopping by the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites.
We wrapped up with the Bolaven Plateau.
A few practical notes: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having picked up our luggage in Bangkok to check it in for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized.
We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. Quick, but to be fair, we were on a “small” plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too crowded in line!
At the end of our trip, we didn’t fly out of Paksé but from the nearby airport in Thailand, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), then Bangkok and Paris.
You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the (Chinese) train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!
With that intro out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter.
To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang
Here’s a little story about my first trip to Japan with my partner.
We went for our first visit from October 29 to November 13, 2024.
I had planned this entire trip back in November 2020, but given the health situation at the time, I had to cancel...
Here’s the classic route we took:
We booked everything ourselves and got a regional pass for the area from Kyoto to Hiroshima.
The hotels were reserved 3 months in advance on Book... and Agod... (1030 € for 2 people for 13 nights = 80 €/night).
For the flight, we chose a Qatar Airways flight with a layover to break up the long journey (950 € per person).
We also got a pass on the same site (Japan-Experience) to take the train connecting Narita Airport to Shibuya Station (the N'EX Narita Express).
Since the airport is 75 km from central Tokyo, we opted for this mode of transport, even though there are cheaper alternatives.
After reading various posts on VoyageForum, I understood how important it was to have a Welcome Suica card to pay for public transport (subway, tram, bus, boat throughout the country), and we were able to buy one at Narita Airport.
It turned out to be super useful!
After a long but smooth journey, we found ourselves at Narita Airport in the evening.
Even though we had a pass for the Narita Express, we had to go to a counter to make a reservation for the train (mandatory).
Then, once we arrived at Shibuya Station, we took the subway for 2 stops and finally reached our hotel, exhausted (Hotel Asia Center of Japan – 270 € for 3 nights with breakfast included).
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area).
In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo.
But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip.
And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.
So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays:
- 3 nights in St Lucia
- 1 night in Hluhluwe
- 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini)
- 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini)
- 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti)
- 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve
- 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie
All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.
I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).
To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.
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.
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.
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
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.
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
A little sneak peek?
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.
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.
We slept in the heights of Theth at a new guesthouse, "Mountain Vista Shkafi," with an amazing view.
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.
