1. Kudara - Muzkol (plutot l'intersection de la piste avec la M41, 20 km au nord de Muzkol)
2. Alitchour - Batchor (trek decrit par Cupda)
3. Batchor- Zaroshkul - Lacs Kulin - Chapdarakul - col Langarkumol - valle Langar - Batchor
4. Petit trek a Vrang
Generalites:
GPS: Pas vraiment utile, mis a part quelques endroits et encore.... J'ai prepare mes itineraires a partir des cartes geo-orientees. Sur place j'ai releve aussi quelques points.
Equipement: On a publie sur ce Forum des exellents textos a ce sujet. RAS, sauf les batons de marche qui m'ont rendu des sacres services (je sais, ca fait 500g de plus a porter).
Les letovkas (bergeries). Elles forment un formidable reseau (informel) d'entre-aide. Les locaux n'y payent pas. Parois j'ai du discuter dur pour qu'on accepte mon argent, ce qui pour moi n'etait pas une raison pour ne pas payer.
On peut toujours y dormir, on vous nourrit d'office comme le dictent les lois d'hospitalite. Du pain, parfois de la soupe, a boire: du the (meme dans les endroits les plus modestes on a le choix entre le the vert et noir) et surtout des produits laitiers exellents. D'habitude les bergers melangent toutes sortes de lait, le gout reserve donc toujours une surprise. Curieusement ils ne font pas de fromage et se contentent de faire secher du kefir.
Pour enrichir votre menu: On tombe tout le temps sur les champs d'oignon sauvage. Ca pousse vers 3500m. La peche. Si c'etait a refaire, je prendrai au moins du fil et des hamecons.
Les eaux des rivieres degorgent de poisson gouteux et naif (une sorte de perche). Ca marche aux vers de terre.
Les locaux aiment pecher a deux. Voila l'astuce: L'un jette des gros cailloux dans l'eau, l'autre travaille avec un filet suspendu a une perche, queques metres plus en amont (le poisson file toujours dans ce sens la). Le gars au filet ne voit pas la pauvre bete, mais il la sent "tirer" sur le filet . Il l'arrache de l'eau d'un geste sec. J'ai vu un pecheur sortir 3 poissons d'env. 1 kilo en une prise. A noter que les gens restent tres attentifs au problemes de la surpeche. Les individus trop petits sont remis a l'eau immediatement.
Bien plus tard, a Osh, j'ai bavarde avec un vieux Russe qui a vecu aux Pamirs pendant les Soviets. D'apres lui il faut faire attention au poisson la-bas, car il en existe une espece qui pose le meme probleme que le fougou japonais.
A toutes fins utiles je declare solenellement que j'ai mange du poisson au Pamirs plusieurs fois. Je suis toujours en vie.
Kudara - Muzkol
A Kudara: Attention au pion local, qui preleve depuis peux la taxe pour la visite du parc national. Il voulait me refiler le billet d'entree No 1. Je m'en suis sorti en disant que je ne suis pas d'accord, donc je ressortirai du parc, par est, vers Muzkol. Il a marche. Je ne suis pas sur si les suivants auront cette chance...
Cet intineraire traverse les confluants de 3 rivieres (Tanymass, Kokouilbel, Kyzyldjouk), les paysages sont tres varies.
Chemin carrossable, a certains endroits devient une piste a peine visible. Tres peux frequente, un peu plus en periodes des activites aux ''alpages''. Les 3 voitures locales que j'ai vu allaient toutes dans le meme sens: vers l'ouest.
Je suis satisfait d'avoir fait cette route a pied, vu la beaute des paysages, les contactes, la sensation de l'isolement. Pourtant on y est pas vraiment isole, car on rencontre de temps en temps les gens qui vous arrivent contre on ne sait pas tres bien d'ou... Pour finir cela devient un peu surrealiste.
A mon avis il est mieux de faire cet itinerraire dans le sens west-est a cause de la montee lente de la route (aclimatation plus facile). A partir du col Kok Jar pratiquement a plat ou faut-plat montant tres doucement. On se dirige toujours vers les panoramas superbes. Il est aussi plus facile de s'orienter a certains endroits (j'en reparle plus bas), bien qu'en general il n y a aucun probleme d'orientation.
Dans le sens est-ouest on risque d'avoir les difficultes pour retrouver le debut de la piste, il faut aussi trouver le moyen de transport depuis Murghab (mais on est aussi moins squizze pour le prix a payer).
Depuis Karakol: plus pres mais pas evident: pas de voitures. Les bagnoles kirghises qui m'ont croise arrivaient de la-bas, neanmoins ils faudrait encore savoir quand il y en aura une.
A noter que les chauffeurs locaux ne conaissent souvent que le trajet qu'ils font d'habitude.
Eau: A certains endroits on peu avoir des problemes. Il faut y aller au debut d'ete. Au moment de mon passage (mi-juin) presque tous les cours d'eau etaient deja a sec (ils descendent des coteaux sud, plus exposes au soleil. Il faut donc bien calculer ses etapes.
Kudara: Un bon endroit pour se reposer et s'aclimater un peux. Depuis Kudara 2 routes possibles (voir les cartes sovietiques).
1.Celle qui longe le Kokouibel: Selon les gens du coin elle n'est pas pratiquable qu'en hiver, a cause des terrains marecageux plus loin. Voila les futures possibilites de treking hivernal au Pamirs.
La valee de Kokouilbel s'annoncait tres belle, mais je n'ai pas pu aller plus loin que quelques kilometres. Il y a 2 ans le sentier a ete obstrue par un immense ebouli de pierres Il parait que c'est passable.
2. La route qui remonte la vallee de Tanymass.
1 jour: Kudara - le haut de la vallee de Tanymass
A signaler quelques cours d'eau a +/- 1 heure de Kudara. Ensuite aucun approvisionnement possible pendant 4 heures. Tanymass n'est pas loin, mais il est charge de boue et ses rives escarpes.
On l'approche a 3 reprises: 1ere fois au debut du parcours, la 2eme fois apres 4 h de marche (l'endroit sympa pour camper), la 3eme fois 2 h plus tard, a proximite d'une letovka en ruine et vide a cette periode de l'anne. L'endroit est assez humide et sali par les animeaux (mon lieux de camping le moins sympa pendant tout le parcours aux Pamirs), mais il ne faut pas aller plus loin le meme jour: Meme si on trouve de l'eau propre a 1 h de marche (la derniere source d'approvisionnement avant le col), il est quasiment impossible d'y planter sa tente.
2 jour: Le haut de la vallee de Tanymass - col Kok Jar - Valle Schouralyssou
D'apres le cartes russes il existe un chemin qui permet de remonter le Tanymass plus loin a l'est, jusqu'a une branche du glacier Fedchenko. Je ne l'ai pas trouve.
Ne pas oublier de faire le plein d'eau avant le col, aucun cours d'eau avant 4 h de marche. La route monte en lacets jusqu'au col, au dessus de 4000m. Pour les paresseux un raccourci possible: a un endroit ou le route tourne pratiquement a 180 degres prendre un chemin tout droit et tres large. Plus loin il devient un sentier a chevres qui 30 min plus tard rejoint la route principale. 2 h plus loin - une letovka tres en hauteur, difficile a reperer sans jumelles.
Lors de mon passage les cours d'eau visibles sur les cartes russes (3 en pointille) etaient a sec, sauf celui du milieu. 30 min. de la on peut approcher la riviere, l'eau est claire. Un joli endroit pour planter sa tente.
La valle s'elargi progressivement. Je suis alle plus loin (2 h) pour camper au bord d'une petite riviere traversant la valee. L'eau est limpide, mais il est preferable de la bouillir, a cause de la presence des animeaux d'une letovka en amont, cache derriere les collines. Les gens tres pauvres et super-sympas. Ils descendent de Rochorv avec leur betes pour trouver de l'herbe. Je vous laisse compter les kilometres...
3 jour: Valle Schouralyssou - col Ailutek - rive de Kokouibel.
Le paysage devient desertique. C'est une etape difficile et longue (et il fait chaud), sans possibilite d'approvisionement en eau avant d'arriver au Kokouibel.
Deux bergers et une bergere qui viennent a ma rencontre (il y a une autre letovka de l'autre cote de Schouralyssou, quelques centaines de metres plus loins que mon dernier biwac) me parlent d'un point d'eau a 5 km de la, a droite de la route, mais je ne le trouve pas.
Je compte sur les reserves d'eau que je trimballe sur mon dos et je continue a marcher jusqu'au col Ailoutek. Il marque la frontiere entre le confluant de Tanymass et de Kokouibel et il est tellement plat (et tout autour) qu'on a de la peine a croire que c'est un col.
Quelques km plus loin je sens quelque chose de frais couler dans mon dos: Une de mes gourdes platypus, toute neuve, pourtant reclamee indestructible, a desoude. Je dois donc continuer a porter cet eau devenue humidite qui a tout moulle dans mon sac, mais je ne peux pas en boire. Il m'en reste 1 litre dans ma 2eme gourde....
A ce point de mon parcours autant continuer a avancer. Il reste un peu de boue humide dans Ailoutek et je pourrai certainement en tirer quelque chose...
Avant de commencer a avoir vraiment soif je suis secouru par les extraterrestres: Je vois de loin arriver sur moi une voiture tellement enorme que je pense d'avoir une vision. Le croisement entre une voiture de pompiers, camion - citerne et un char de combat. Une vraie soucoupe non-volante, rouge a souhait, avec des croix blanches a peux pres partout. A son bord - un couple de Suisses adorables, en ballade en Asie centrale depuis quelques mois. Avec leurs 2 chiens (chaque toutou equippe de sa collection de jouets).
Ils me refilent une grade bouteille d'eau traitee au katadyn grand debit. La bouteille porte encore l'etiquette "Henniez'' d'origine...
Comme ils veulent faire un aller-retour je pense de pouvoir leur rendre la bouteille plus tard. Ils ont du continuer jusqu'a Bartang car je ne les ai jamais revus. Quand a la bouteille - elle a ete remplie a nouveau (de kefir) par un berger-chevalier au courant de l'apres-midi.
A la fin de la journee j'appercois enfin le Kokouibel, cache en contre-bas de la route, juste a temps pour ne pas y tomber. Un biwac dans l'herbe.
Il est mieux de remplir les gourdes le soir, au matin l'eau devient boueuse.
4 jour: En longeant le Kokuibel
Une etape plus courte. Les collines se resserrent autour de la piste. Je continue en traversant un terrain tres humide, avec des nombreux cours d'eau et des sources minuscules. Plus loin il se trasforme en un vallon vert et sinueux; nombreuses possibilites de camping.
5 jour: Kokouibel - jusqu'au lac Kurunkul
Apres 2 h de marche je traverse le pont sur Kokouibel. Je longe a gauche le fond de la valee qui derriere un tournant de la route devient tout d'un coup desertique et lunaire. La piste est par endroits presque invisible, mais les marquages sont bien la. On peut deviner une riviere (saisoniere) a gauche de la route, contre la chaine de montagnes.
Je marche long d'une serie de flaques boueuses pour arriver au lac Kourounkul, unique source d'apprivisionnement en eau avant d'attendre Kyzyldjouk. L'eau est limpide, de bon gout, mais le fond du lac est constitue d'une boue tres instable et dangereuse. Faites attention en vous approchant et surtout n'essayez pas de vous y baigner!
En se balladant autour du lac on peut sentir par endroits des poches d'eau sous le sol mouvant.
J'aurais aime atteindre la bifurcation le jour precedant. Betement j'ai fait plus confiance a un chauffeur de camion kirghize qu'a ma carte et mon GPS. J'ai perdu l'apres-midi a tourner en rond a la recherche de la route sur le plateau aride entre Kourounkul et Kyzyldjouk.
Tous les cours d'eau dans le secteur (marques en pointille sur les crates sovietiques) sont a sec a cette periode. J'ai prefere donc de revenir au bord du lac.
Le chemin visible sur les cartes n'existe plus. Celui actuellement utilise passe beaucoup plus au nord. Il longe la chaine de montagne derriere le lac orientee nord-ouest, pour tourner ensuite sec vers l'est. Le Kyzyldjouk n'est pas loin, on le devinne facilement deriere la bande verte de vegetation dans le paysage brunatre. Une fois le Kyzyldjouk trouvee - c'est du gateau.
On retrouve bientot l'embranchement de la piste ancienne qui - si on fait le parcours dans le sens contraire - disparait dans la pieraille quelques centaines de metres plus loin. C'est unique endroit sur tout le parcours ou on peut avoir un probleme d'orientation (et soif, si on traine a trouver le lac Kourounkul).
En cas de doute sur la qualite de votre boussole ne coupez pas a travers le plateau. Suivez tout simplement la piste ''principale'' et et n'hesitez pas de faire quelques kilometres de plus.
L'identification de la bifurcation Muzkol-Karakol ne pose aucun probleme.
J'ai vecu a cet endroit ma nuit la plus venteuse et froide au Pamirs. Comme chaque soir j'ai rempli ma gamelle d'eau. Au lever du soleil elle n'etait qu'un bloc de glace.
7 jour: Bifurcation - intersection de la piste/M41
La piste longe une valle tres sauvage, mis a part les restes de l'activite humaine difficile a comprendre: une ruine - d'accord, mais une statue? Un totem?
On y trouve de l'eau, dans Koktchoukour.
Vers midi je termine par avoir l'impression d'avancer vers le nulle part, tant la lumiere nivele les formes et les couleurs. Enfin j'appercois un ''insecte'' courir au loin. Une marschroutka... J'arrive a la M41 40 min plus tard. Il est 13h. On est vendredi... Heureusement je ne manque pas de nourriture, d'eau non plus d'ailleurs: Ce qui a du etre une etendue d'eau en periode de la fonte de neige est devenu un rouisseau entoure des lacs minuscules. L'eau y est limpide mais trop froide pour une baignade. J'attends...
Mourghab: je dors chez l'habitant. Jolie chambre, TV et le petit dej/diner compris. Schorba degraissee. Il n'y a pas de salle de bain.
A signaler: Une banya publique, tout pres de la petite mosquee blanche-bleue derriere le bazar. Fonctionne samedi et dimanche. Desole Mesdames: Je ne me suis pas renseigne au sujet des horaires pour vous.
Comme j'arrive tard et tous les messieurs a Mourghab veulent etre propre pour la nuit du week-end, il n'y a plus de place pour moi le soir meme. Je termine donc par dormir cra-cra mais dans les draps propres.
Alichour - Batchor
Ce trek a ete deja decrit 2 fois. Je n'ai pas releve de changement particulier, neanmoins j'aimerais mentionner l'existence de plusieures letovkas sur ce parcours:
1. A 2h de marche depuis le gue sur Alitchour.
2. 1h plus loin une letovka kirghise (une yourte).
3. Les letovkas sur les rives de la Mardjanoi: 2 letovkas sur le rive droite. La premiere est tres sympa, on y a dormi a 7 dans une espace de 7m carres. Une 3eme se cache dans un petit cirque de montagne a l'ouest. Il faut traverser la riviere, apres ca monte sec. Une ballade supplementaire pour ceux qui ont du temps.
Une 4eme letovka situee sur le rive droit en redescendant vers le lac. Un des bergers a ete a plusieures reprises jusqu'au Sarez, par le chemin plus a l'est que le chemin de Batchor ou la vallee de Langar. Si cette ballade vous interesse - il faut parler un peux russe pour se faire comprendre.
4. Une letovka a mi-chemin entre le confluent Langar/Gunt.
A Alitchour je suis alle dormir chez la tres sympatique institutrice.
Il y fonctionne depuis quelques mois un hostel ouvert par ACTED. Ils ont une banya et tout et tout.
Son proprio (gerant?) est guide. Pour valoriser ses services il m'a montre un album de photos ou on voit ses cliens: Des riches Japonais, Americains et les autres avec des cadavres de Marco-Polos a leurs pieds. Cette chasse est tres a la mode dans certains milieux.
Marco-Polos (les bouctins geant) dont le Tadjikistan est fier au point d'en fait un embleme sont en voix d'extinction. Il parait que dans tout le Pamirs il n'en reste pas plus de 200, qu' il n'y a pas de periode de protection et qu'on les assassine tout au long de l'annee.
Salut Tadek,
Ton récit est intéressant mais un peu ésotérique pour les non-initiés.
C'est quoi un ou une bagna (une sdb?) et surtout un marco polo?
Si tu as le temps ce serait sympa de nous mettre une ou deux cartes et surtout des photos pour nous faire encore plus envie!
A+
Marie
Salut Marie,
Merci de ton commentaire.
J' ai fait les corrections, l'ortographe des mots russes en francais n'est pas mon fort, je m' en excuse 😉
A bientot
Tadek
Batchor- Zaroshkul - Lacs Kulin - Chapdarakul - col Langarkumol - valle Langar - Batchor
Le seul obstacle qui peut empecher la reussite de ce trek (surtout si on part en autonomie) c'est le niveau saisonier des eaux. Il est plus avise de le tenter en aout.
On m'a dit a Batchor que le mois de septembre ont peut y aller aussi, mais je m'en mefierais pour des raisons liees a la meteo.
Il y a aussi les aleas: - la chaleur d'ete dernier par exemple a etait toute particuliere. Elle a beaucoup contribue a la montee des eaux.
Ces fenomenes peuvent etre tres localises: Quelques jours auparavant j'ai passe par l'Alichur, le Malmardjanoi et le Gunt sans avoir rencontre de difficulte. Il en a ete tout autrement pour Andaravadj, a peine quelques kilometres plus loin.
En tout cas sachez que le probleme lies au niveau des rivieres ne se presente qui'au debut du parcours, sur le troncon entre Batchor et le Zaroshkul - soit 2 premiers jours de marche. Une fois le lac Zarosh passe - plus de danger de se mouiller les orteils. Il y a en tout 3 gues difficils. On peut reduir leur nombre a 2, si on traverse le pont sur Andaravadj et choisi de le remonter en suivant son rive gauche.
Il est quasiment impossible d'avoir les renseignements au sujet de l'etat des eaux avant de se trouver face a une riviere. On ne peut pas exclure que les habitants de Batchor vous decrivent les conditions comme ''extremes"pour vous vendre leurs services, mais j'en doute.
Il faut souligner qu'eux-memes - ils ne prennent cette direction que rarement. Ils preferent faire la route dans le sens contraire (Batchor - Valee Langar etc), plus agreable pour le betes. Ca leur permets d'attendre facilement les paturages en evitant les grosses rivieres et la caillasse.
Les solutions:
1. Faire la route comme les habitants, dans le sens contraire d'une montre (en commencant par la valee de Langar). Vous n'etes pas oblige d'aller jusqu'a Zarosh (meme sans arriver la vous allez en avoir plein les yeux), mais si vous le tentez et les eaux en creux vous arretent - le retour sur Batchor va doubler la longeur de votre trek, ou presque.
2. Louer un cheval avec son proprietaire. J'ai paye 100 somonis par jour; je suis sur que j'ai tres mal negocie. J'ai pris cette option pour toute la ballade, mais cela pourrait se faire pour 2 jours seulement, juste pour passer au-dela du lac Zaroshkul.
Je deconseille de louer des anes. Au passage des gues le cheval se mouillait le ventre. Imaginez donc un ane!
Pour trouver les betes - s'adresser directement aux habitants. S'ils ne sont pas interessees, il vous ameneront certainement vers quelqu'un qui le sera.
Batchor. A signaler un groupe de vielles maisons a l'entree du village, par la route de Schazoud. De l'exterieur elles ne different pas beaucoup des autres, mais sont restees tres autentiques. Certaines ont plus de 100 ans (les habitants dixit). Les proprietaires en sont fieres et vous enviteront tres volontiers chez eux.
Bonne nouvelle pour ceux qui y arrivent par l'est, comme c'etait mon cas: On peut completer a Batchor ses provisions.
Il y a une boutique tout pres de la maison du directeur de l'ecole, au nord du village. Rien de folichon a y acheter, mais cela me semble assez important pour etre signale: Des bonbons, des bisquits de toutes sortes, du the. Pas de soupes choinoises ni de boites de conserves. Un peu plus cher qu'a Khorog. mais sans exces. On peux aussi acheter sans probleme du pain ches les habitants.
Je dors au nord du village, chez le directeur de l'ecole, tres cordial, qui heberge aussi le membre d'une ONG. Monsieur ONG et son ordinateur enseignent aux femmes du village comment gagner des sous: Il faut qu'elles cousent des chapeaux traditionels et qu'elles s'arrangent ensuite pour pouvoir les vendre aux touristes a Douchanbe . Il me "consulte" au sujet des prix d'une nuitee au futur camping et de la douche. Il n'y a pas un touriste a l'horison mais apparament cela n'empeche pas la creation des modeles theoriques. En faite Monsieur ONG n'a pas besoin d' avoir mon avis. Le sien est fait: Sachez que le prix de la place pour une tente sera de 4 USD, celui de la douche de 3 USD.
Itineraire
1 jour: Batchor - paturage Sadjarot
Le chemin de la ballade commence tout pres de la maison du directeur. On suit la route carrossable pour arriver jusqu'a une letovka 2 h plus tard, situee au bord d'un ravin. Du bord du ravin - la vue plongeante sur le pont (a 2 encablees) qui vous amenera sur le rive gauche de l'Andaravadj. Plus bas a droite - une autre letovka, tout pres.
Si vous ne franchissez pas le pont et decidez de remonter Andaravadj sur sont rive droit (la route pas vraiment tracee, mais la question sur la direction a prendre ne se pose pas), 3 h plus tard vous ariverez sur un paturage tres verdoyant. Un ruisseau-copain d'Andaravadj y fait des jolis meandres qu'il faut enjamber.
+/- au mileu de ce paturage (dans le sens de sa longeur) cherchez le gue sur Andaravadj (le gue difficil No 1).
Ensuite le chemin commence a monter. On longe une gorge profonde. Au fond on voit et entend la riviere (mais on ne s'entend plus). On arrive au paturage Sadjarot (le nom local, pas indique sur les cartes sovietiques), assez humide en bas. Il est mieux de camper dans sa partie superieure.
2 jour: Sadjarot - Zaroshkul
La montee est soutenue, chemin visible et marque a travers la caillasse. Apres 1.30h on arrive a un lac (sur les cartes sovietiques: le lac au sud du Zaroschkul).
Lors de mon passage l'eau - en montant - a completement couvert le sentier. Ainsi il fallait passer par la grosse caillasse, plutot casse-chevilles. Le cheval qui n'arrivait pas a marcher dessus ete oblige de nager sur 2 troncons. Derriere le lac - un autre paturage avec quelques yaks fort sympathiques. On peut y camper, mais il est preferable d'aller plus loin, le Zarosh est tout pres.
Derriere le paturage la remnotee est raide. 1 h plus tard on se retrouve au bord d'une riviere. Sur les catres sovietiques on voit le chemin aller vers le nord et suivre une serie de petits lac.
En realite il faut traverser la riviere. Le gue (le gue difficil No 2) se situe plus en aval (env.100m) de l'endroit ou le chemin atteind la riviere. Pour le trouver - suivez les quelques traces d'animeaux.
Une fois de l'autre cote - on appercoit un marquage. Continuer en longeant la riviere en amont pendant 200 -300 m. Ensuite il faut tourner a gauche et monter dans la direction d'un cirque de montagne enneigees. Le sentier disparait, plus de marquage visible.
Plus tard il faut longer une crete a votre droite, d'une hauteur de quelques dixaines de metres. Des qu'un passage y s'ouvre - empruntez le. Vous etes a la hauteur des premiers neves. Quelques encablees plus loin vous decouvrez le lac en toute sa splendeur.
On retrouve facilement le sentier qui descend a droite, tres raide. On arrive vite au niveau du lac. Il en sort une riviere. La traversee (le gue difficil No 3 - le dernier) peut poser un probleme si le niveau de l'eau est eleve, mais le courant n'est pas fort.
Il est preferable de ne pas dormir pres du lac. L'endroit a la reputation d'etre tres froid la nuit et les bords du lac ne sont pas tres hospitaliers.
Pour camper il faut traverser la crete qui se dessine derriere le gue, pour arriver dans un vallon bien abrite du vent (20 min). Nombreuses sources minuscules, de l'herbe.
3 jour: Zaroshkul - letovka Vyhyny (pour les habitants: letovka Loshindj)
Depuis le lieux du campement continuer en prolongement du chemin de la veille. Pas de marquage.
Bientot on arrive a un col et on appercoit la 2eme partie du lac, tres boucolique. On y rencontre des yaks arrives de Batchor...
On quitte Zaroschkul en remontant long du ruisseau qui plonge dans le lac, Il y a beaucoup de fleurs, au point de composer une carte postale a la suisse, assez kitch.
A partir de cette endoit le chemin es tres visible et aussi marque. Une fois Zaroschkul laisse derriere on passe d'un petit lac a l'autre (il y en a 4).
Apres le 1er on croise le chemin pour Bartang - Bardara qui rejoint plus loin la route pour Sarez (pas indique sur les cartes sovietiques).
Entre le 3eme et le 4eme on rejoint le chemin sur le flanc de la montagne, qui vient aussi de Bartang (pas indique sur les cartes, pour les futures explorations).
Contrairement a ce qui montre la carte le chemin depasse les 3 premiers lacs de cote droit. On depasse a gauche seulement le 4eme. Attention au vertige. C'est un troncon tres escarpe, par endroit le sentier est plus etroit qu' un pied (en tout cas plus etroit que mon pied a moi, mais je chausse du 44). La roche est friable.
Apres avoir contourne le 4eme lac on arrive a un col. La descente (tres facile) se fait en longeant une grande valle, au paysages tres varies. On depasse plusieurs lacs (encore), avant d'arriver a la letovka Vyhyny.
Il faut descendre au fond de la valee pour l'appercevoir. car elle se cache derriere des gros bloc de pierre.
Cette letovka est bien connue des voyageurs locaux. On y est tres habitue aux visiteurs.
Elle est tres petite. Il est possible qu'on vous demandera de dormir plutot dans votre tente, faute de place a l'interieur.
Plusieurs kilometres avant de l'atteindre on voit en prolongement de la route l'entree dans la valle qui mene au Sarez.
4 jour: Vyhyny - valee Kargiztchabor - col Kartchabar
Le chemin longe la riviere derriere la letovka. Il monte sec. On termine (1h plus tard) par arriver sur un plateau des lacs Kulin.
Apres le 2 lac - une autre letovka. L'acceuil tres sympathique. La soupe y est exellente. Apres le dernier lac Kulin le terrain recomence a remonter en pente pas trop penible jusqu'au col Kartchabar. Nombreuses possibiliter de camping.
Il faut choisir soigneusement l'endroit pour planter sa tente. Le vent particulierement fort a cet endroit viendra certainement depuis le col.
Depuis le debut du plateau des lac Kulin jusqu'a la letovka - 3h. Depuis la letovka au pied du col Kartchabar - 2.30h.
5 jour: col Kartchabar - valee Kartchabar - Chapdarakul - valee Kartchabar - col Langarkumol - letovka Madena il (dans la valee de Langar)
Une longue journee.
Depuis le col Kartchabar jusque l' entree dans la vallee - 1.30h.
J'ai fait l'excursion jusqu'au lac Chapdara en aller- retour (en tout 3 h sans se presser) depuis la vallee Kartchabar. Le chemin qui contourne le Chapdara pour descendre vers la valee Langar (en evitant le col Langarkumol) est, il parait, impratiquable.
Le chemin vers Langarkumol ne fait que de "effleurer'' la valle Kartchabar en la laissant a droite.
Pour trouver le sentier de Chapdara il faut bifurquer et descendre au font de la valee. Il n'y a pas de chemin et on se mouille les pieds dans les innombrables flaques et les endroits a boue.
Cherchez de vos yeux un lit de riviere (au moment de mon passge - a sec), de autre cote de la valee. Le sentier de Chapdara commence sur le flanc droit du lit de cette riviere. De loin - on dirait un eboulis de quelques dixaines de metres. Une fois le debut du sentier trouve - aucun probleme a continuer.
Si on a du temps, on peux envisager de dormir au bord du Chapdarakul, mais c'est assez humide. Chapdarakul est le lac le plus incroyable que j'ai vu au Pamirs, mais ca reste subjectif.
Une fois le sentier du col Langarkumol retrouve - c'est une montee soutenue qui vous attend (jusqu'au col 2.30h sans trainer). Apres le col - plus de probleme.
La descente sur Madena il se fait en 3h.
6 jour: Madena il - long du Gunt
Je repars tard, a cause d'une tempete de neige (il en est tombe 10 cm), affrontee au petit matin et jusqu'a 9h.
Je marche sur le rive droit du Gunt. 2 cols, les montees plutot raides et les paysages qui different beaucoup de ceux vus du rive gauche ( j'y ai passe il y a quelques jours).
Le camping au bord du Gunt, l'endroit boucolique a souhait.
7 jour: Arrivee a Batchor
se fait en traversant le pont sur Andaravadj dont j'ai parle plus haut.
Merci pour tous ces détails, notamment sur les deux treks que je souhaiterais faire si je retourne là-bas. Kudara-Muzkol, c'est bien l'itinéraire qui relie la Bartang à Karakul ? Et sept jours suffisent ? Bonne nouvelle...
Pour ce trek, tu dis avoir utilisé une voiture privée à chaque extrémité de ton trajet à pieds. Tu as fait du stop ou tu as "affrété" un véhicule ? Ca t'as coûté combien en gros ?
Pour le trek des lacs au-dessus de Batchor, c'est quoi pour toi un gué difficile ? Tu les as passés à pieds ou sur le cheval ? Sans cheval, c'est pas possible de passer les sacs ? Il faut des cordes ? Tu peux préciser un peu STP ? Tu confirmes que personne ne contrôle cette voie d'accès au Sarez ?
Pour les detailles je risque de derailler. je suis actuellent en Asie de sud-est. Mes cartes, notes etc. sont partis pour l'Europe ... Je pourrait corriger par la suite si ma memoire me joue des trop mauvais tours.
Voici les reponses:
En effet, Kudara - Muzkol c;est le chemin qui part depuis Bartang.
Donc: Khorog - Roshorv en marschroutka, 60 somonis. Roshorv vaut le voyage pour lui tout seul et beaucoup plus.
Y a 3 marschroutkas Khorog - Kudara directes par semaine: Lundi, mardi et vendredi. Verifie par une tres gentille dame d'une epicerie qui a telephone a son cops chauffeur.
Roshorv - Kudara le marschroutka (elle appartenait au village de Roshorv, d'apres ce que j'ai compris - elle etait asser chere pour le coin, les gens voulaient monter en route mais ils abandonnait quand ils entendaient le prix annonce) s'est transforme en taxi: 80 som. de plus. Si c'etait a refaire je ferais ce trajet fou fou fou a pied, mais des problemes immenses avec l'eau a prevoir.
De l'autre cote du trek, depuis la separation des pistes: jusqu'a Karakol il te reste 60 kil sur la M41, sans aucune source d'eau et surtout sur une route goudronne.
J'ai fait du stop depuis Muzkol pour Murghab. Il faut avoir des reserves de la pitance. Attente: plus de 24 heures, mais s'etait le debut du week end.
Pour l'eau - pas de probleme. SAttention quand meme a la periode de l'ete. Si tu n'es pas frileux prends ton maillot de bain.
J'ai ete pris en stop par une voiture militaire. Le prix initial de 100 USD est descendu a 40 USD.
Pour le trek des lacs au-dessus de Batchor, c'est quoi pour toi un gué difficile ? Tu les as passés à pieds ou sur le cheval ? Sans cheval, c'est pas possible de passer les sacs ? Il faut des cordes ? Tu peux préciser un peu STP ?
Gue difficile:
Tu ne voix pas toujours le fond et tu ne sais pas ou tu marches. Le courant fort - tres fort.
Le niveau d'eau: le ventre de la bete et une partie des flancs ont ete mouilles. Une partie des sacs trempe. Le gue No 2 le mois sympa.
Le gue No 3 - a la rigueur si tu partages tes affaires ev. tu peux passer solo en portant ton barda les mains haut.
Les cordes: Il me manque d'experience pourt bien te repondre. En tout cas on n'a pas a faire avec des rivieres aux rives escarpees. L'acces est facile, les rives sont plats, mais les riovieres sont assez larges (2 cordees).
Au 1er et 3eme gue tu risques de ne pas avoir de points d'attache.
Tu confirmes que personne ne contrôle cette voie d'accès au Sarez ?
J'ai parle des 2 voix pour Sarez.
!. depuis letovka Vyhyny. OUI, ce passge est controle. Tu arrives sur une station meteo au bord du lac, de la - on telephone et on te denonce illico presto au point de controle a Bartchadiev. L'amende: au meilleur prix 600 USD.
Le gars de la letovla me conselle d'y allez et donner quelques dollars aux meteorologues, mais comme je suis trouillard....
par contre je regrette de ne pas m'avoir au moins enfonce (depuis Vyhyny) dans la valle vers Sarez (ce qui n'st pas interdit), tres impressionnate.
2. Le chemin vers Sarez depuis la vallee du Mardjanoi.
Apparament ce n'est pas controle (au Vyhyny dixit) mais je ne sais pas ou ce sentier abouti. Si c'est pour voir une petite baie sans la vue qui debouche sur le lac...
Le trek des Kulin m'a l'air quand même assez impossible sans bête en début d'été, c'est un coup à partir avec le courant ce que tu décris là... Pour le Sarez, j'avais repéré sur les cartes le trajet par la Mardjanoï, mais c'est vrai que c'est dur de se rendre compte de la vue qu'on aura en arrivant sur le lac, et puis le trajet est a priori moins attractif que par les pâturages et les Kulin.
Profite bien de ton voyage (tu as enchaîné directement après le Tadjikistan ?), et au plaisir. 🙂
...........En effet, j'ai enchaine avec le vietnam. Mon surpoid au Tadjikistan: le assimil viet. Ca valais de lapeine. C'est fou ce qu'on peut reussir a faire avec queques mots a peine dans un pays tellement touriste...
Actellement en route pour Indonesie pour titiller quelques volcans...
je reste a l'ecoute et disponible pour les questions eventuelles 😉
Bonjour!
J'envisage d'y aller fin octobre, au Tadjikistan, et tes récits de treks donnent bien envie.
Seulement, fin octobre, penses-tu que ce soit encore possible de faire ces circuits? Ou bien sera-t-il déjà trop tard par rapport au climat?
Et je suis à l'écoute de toute autre suggestion de trek...
merci d'avance!
Je consulte régulièrement ce forum avant de partir en voyage, mais je n'ai jamais contribué jusqu'à présent. J'ai décidé de poster quelques photos prises au…
C'est avec plaisir que je vous fait partager notre voyage de l'été 2019 dans les pays en stan. La version complète est ici, elle se construit au même rythme…
Je reviens du Tajikistan ou j'ai passe le mois qui vient de s'ecouler. Merci a ceux qui m'ont aide a preparer ce trip (Cupda et Naps). Bon j'imagine que ca ne…
LES CONDITIONS DU VOYAGE: Nous étions deux, nous ne voulions pas faire un trek, nous ne voulions pas de groupe organisé, nous ne voulions pas de location de…
Trek au Pamir, Juillet 2008 En route... Dans mon avion pour le Tadjikistan, seuls trois touristes: des alpinistes qui vont faire le Pic Karl Marx au Sud du…
This travel journal summarizes a trip I took in March to Argentine and Chilean Patagonia. It starts in El Calafate and ends in Ushuaia. During my planning, I considered looking into the Australis cruise from Punta Arenas to Ushuaia, as well as the W trek in Torres del Paine National Park. In both cases, I was put off by the prices. Instead of the cruise, I found two interesting wildlife excursions from Punta Arenas: whale watching in the Strait of Magellan and observing king penguins in Tierra del Fuego. The journey to Ushuaia was by bus. For Torres del Paine, things were a bit confusing, so I reached out to two agencies. In the end, I went with a rental car option, overnight stays on-site, and day hikes. I shared my full itinerary with the agency and ended up being taken care of by a local Argentine agency and a Chilean one.
So, here we go...
March 2nd — Departure by bus from Latour at 6:50 AM. The journey isn’t direct: we pass through Elne then Corneilla. In Perpignan, I switch to a BlablaBus heading to Barcelona’s northern bus station. Before reaching Le Perthus, French police stop us to check IDs. Several people aren’t in order, but after about fifteen minutes, we’re on our way again. We’re checked again at La Jonquera: this time, the wait lasts almost forty-five minutes while police identify those in violation and wait for a vehicle to pick them up. The driver then tries to make up for lost time; we finally arrive at our destination half an hour late.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.
Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.
Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church
, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes
—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit.
I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.
Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare
We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.
We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.
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.
This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rentals kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything fell into place—I told myself, now’s the time!
Preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan?
Not in the end.
The south or not?
Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or play it by ear?
Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela on this destination (the guide has been updated since).
---/---
You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek!
(‘Beefsteak’ for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
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.
