Une disponibilité de 15 jours et un bon tarif sur Qatar, il n’en fallait pas plus pour nous décider à faire une petite escapade en Birmanie. Décision prise dans un temps très court (mi octobre pour un départ le 27/10). L’idée trottait dans nos têtes suite à la lecture de carnets sur ce forum, en particulier celui de Fabhyène : « La Birmanie comme nous l’avions rêvée ».
J’ai pris contact avec l’agence qui avait organisé son voyage à savoir Adorable Manmyar, ainsi qu’avec une autre proposée par Evanéos. La aussi notre choix à été rapide, la seconde agence étant rapidement écartée en raison du prix et du manque de choix dans les hébergements proposés.
Je me propose de vous faire un petit résumé, sans prétention littéraire ni photographique (clichés en provenance d’une tablette), de notre voyage. Je me contenterai d’être factuel et de donner quelques indications sur les visites, hôtels, restaurants, prix.
Les préparatifs et le circuit :
Après obtention des visas nous (couple de 68 et 65 ans) avons retenu les vols internationaux (27 octobre au 10 novembre) auprès de Qatar (560 € par pax) avec une courte escale à Doha. Au final bonne compagnie, choix des sièges et menus à l’avance, avions neufs (A380, A319, A350), très bon service à bord.
Nos échanges avec l’agence ont permis d’affiner notre itinéraire très classique au demeurant mais satisfaisant pour un premier contact avec ce pays. Il comportait les étapes suivantes :
Jour 1 : Arrivée à Yangon le 28 octobre à 5h30
Jour 2 : vol Yangon - Heho pour rejoindre le lac Inlé
Jour 3 : Lac Inlé
Jour 4 : Envol pour Mandalay
Jour 5 : Mandalay
Jour 6 : Croisière de 10 h sur l’Irrawaddy pour rejoindre Bagan
Jour 7 à jour 9 : Bagan et ses environs
Jour 10 : vol pour Ngapali en passant par Heho
Jour 11 et 12 : séjour balnéaire à Ngapali
Jour 13 : retour par avion sur Yangon
Jour 14 : vol retour vers Paris.
Pour l’hébergement l’agence proposait 6 niveaux d’hébergements avec un choix entre 2 hôtels dans chaque catégorie. Nous avons retenu la moins onéreuse et nous n’avons eu que des hôtels satisfaisants voir excellents pour certains :
- Shwe Yee à Yangon (B)
- La maison Birmane à Inlé (TB++)
- Victoria Palace à Mandalay (B)
- Villa Bagan à Bagan (TB)
- Yoma Sherry lodge à Ngapali (TB+++).
Il faut noter que dans tous ces hôtels nous avons bénéficié d’une literie de qualité.
Jour 1 Matinée Yangon
A la descente de l’avion une guide et un chauffeur nous attendent. Après avoir changé un peu d’argent, nous roulons en direction du centre ville. Malgré l’heure matinale (6 h) la chaleur est déjà présente. Un premier étonnement : la conduite à droite avec le volant à droite. La guide nous explique que la junte avait décidé de rompre avec les us de la domination anglaise en changeant le nom du pays (Manmyar à la place de Birmanie) et le sens de circulation. Mais les véhicules ayant le volant à droite étant moins chers que ceux possédant un volant à gauche les habitants ont en majorité retenu cette option. Cependant on commence à voir quelques volants à gauche.
Etant donné que la chambre d’hôtel n’est pas disponible avant 14 h nous décidons de faire tout de suite les visites prévues dans cette journée en commençant par Shwedagon. Le gros avantage c’est qu’à cette heure il n’y a pas foule. De plus, pour notre plus grand plaisir, le soleil éclaire de mille feux les ors du temple et c’est tout simplement époustouflant.
La légende raconte que la pagode a été érigée pour enfermer 8 cheveux de Bouddha donné par ce dernier aux premières personnes qui l’on nourrit au sortir de son temps de jeun et de méditation. Ainsi elle aurait 2500 ans. Mais rien n’est moins sur ! Les archéologues la datent du VI ième siècle de notre ère. Sur l’esplanade de marbre blanc, le stupa central s’élève à 98 m et est couvert de 20000 plaques d’or. Au total on estime qu’elle serait recouverte de 40 tonnes d’or. Le stupa est visible de tous points de la ville. Son sommet est surmonté d’une ombrelle entourée de 1400 clochettes en or et argent et d’une girouette sertie de milliers de pierres précieuses, d’un globe en or et d’un diamant de 76 carats. On peut voir les détails de ces pièces sur des photographies dans un musée adjacent. L’or et les pierres sont des dons des fidèles.
Tout autour on trouve une soixantaine de stupas et sanctuaires offerts par les familles riches pour obtenir des « mérites »…. Toujours dans le même but, les moins fortunés offrent de leur temps pour nettoyer les statues, le parvis. C’est ainsi que l’on peut voir des bataillons de bénévoles balayant l’esplanade ou nettoyer les statues.
Huit oratoires symbolisant les jours de la semaine (le mercredi étant divisé en deux) sont disséminés sur le parvis. Chacun a un animal et une planète dédiés. Ils permettent aux croyants de venir se recueillir devant celle correspondant au jour de leur naissance et d’y verser de l’eau pour se purifier.
Autre élément remarquable la cloche de Singu (16 t). Elle fût volée par les Anglais qui voulurent l’emporter mais elle tomba dans la rivière et ils ne purent la remonter. Les Birmans obtinrent le droit de la conserver s’ils parvenaient à la récupérer. C’est ce qu’ils firent.
Nous nous étonnons de voir des gens prier alors que d’autres mangent, papotent ou se font photographier. En fait contrairement à nos églises les pagodes sont tout à la fois des lieux de culte et des lieux de vie où les locaux viennent pour prier mais également pour passer un moment en famille ou en couple. Les fidèles peuvent y manger, discuter, se prendre en photo.
Le mélange entre vie quotidienne et vie spirituelle confère à la Shwedagon pagode une atmosphère particulière.
Bien qu’il nous reste mille choses à découvrir nous quittons ce lieu spectaculaire et impressionnant.
Nous nous dirigeons maintenant vers la pagode de Sulé en plein centre ville. Son originalité : elle est érigée sur un rond point. Ici pas de marbre au sol mais des carreaux plus laids les uns que les autres. Elle est entourée de boutiques. Une particularité : on peut y acheter de feuilles d’or pour l’orner. La vendeuse les place sur une petite barque pour les acheminer, à l’aide d’un filin vers la base du stupa. Disons le, après Shwedagon, la visite nous a déçu. Peut être c’eut été différent si nous avions inversé l’ordre des visites.
Un petit tour dans le parc adjacent où l’on trouve l’obélisque de l’indépendance face à l’hôtel de ville qui ne peut renier ses origines britanniques !
Une petite ballade pédestre dans le quartier nous conduit jusqu’au fleuve Yangon. Dans ce quartier, les bâtiments coloniaux se succèdent, certains sont restaurés mais la plupart, faute de moyens, sont laissés à l’abandon et livrés à l’humidité tropicale ! Quel contraste après la splendeur et magnificence de Shwedagon !
Nous retrouvons notre chauffeur devant le mythique Strand hôtel, témoin de l’époque victorienne. Il nous amène vers le lac Kandawgyi oasis de fraîcheur dans la ville. Un ponton offre un beau point de vue sur la pagode Shwedagon.
Une dernière visite nous conduit vers la pagode Chaukhtatgyi, qui n’a aucun charme : en fait il s’agit d’un énorme hangar qui abrite une gigantesque statue de bouddha allongé. Certains affirment que c’est l’un des plus beaux Bouddha couché du pays, il faut avouer que, comme tous les goûts sont dans la nature, ce n’est pas notre avis : les couleurs sont vraiment trop criardes. Cependant on reste impressionné par la taille (70 m de long). Ses plantes de pied sont ornés de 108 « tableaux » qui représentent les 3 mondes et les 108 actions qui ont permis à Bouddha d'atteindre la perfection. Le hangar est cerné de tableaux qui illustrent la vie du 4ième Bouddha. Si l’on fait abstraction du contenant la visite reste intéressante et vaut le coup d’œil.
Il est maintenant 13h 30. La guide nous propose de manger dans un restaurant typique qui nous permet un premier contact avec la cuisine birmane. Ici aucun étranger. A l’entrée un stand propose diverses entrées puis on va choisir son plat parmi une myriade de proposition qu’il est difficile d’identifier. Avec 2 bières nous nous en tirons pour moins de 12 € pour deux. Comme presque partout en Birmanie le riz est servi à volonté et on nous offre un bol de soupe et une assiette de dessert.
Fatigués nous rentrons à l’hôtel pour une petite sieste. Vers 17 h notre TO vient nous donner les documents pour la suite du voyage. Tout est répertorié : une enveloppe contenant les instructions pour les chauffeurs, une pour les billets d’avion, une pour les bateaux, les vouchers pour les hôtels. Bref tout est bien ordonné et tout se déroulera à merveille.
La nuit arrive dès 18 h. Au pied de notre hôtel un restaurant thai (Thai 4) nous permet de bien dîner pour une somme modique. Un petit tour sur le rooftop de l’hôtel pour admirer la pagode Shwedagon de nuit. Nous n’avons pas la force de faire trempette dans la petite piscine. Une bonne nuit réparatrice nous attend.
Nous nous dirigeons maintenant vers la pagode de Sulé en plein centre ville. Son originalité : elle est érigée sur un rond point.
Bonjour,
nous sommes passés par là début février. Vu que la pagode Sule a au moins 1000 ans, j'ai tendance à penser que c'est le rond point qui est venu s'installer autour.....😛
Le chauffeur vient nous chercher à 5h 30 pour nous conduire à l’aéroport. A cette heure la ville est déserte ce qui fait qu’en moins de 20 mn nous sommes arrivés à destination. Les formalités d’enregistrement pour Heho sont rapides. Les bagagistes ne sont pas stricts pour le poids des bagages (20 kg permis). Ce sera ainsi pour les 5 vols intérieurs que nous aurons à prendre. Nous volerons sur des ATR 800 de la compagnie BKZ qui semblent récents et bien entretenus.
On nous annonce un retard indéterminé en raison d’un orage sur le parcours. Finalement ce retard sera de 2 h. Vol agréable agrémenté d’une petite collation. A bord, un moine bouddhiste qui sera accueilli par des fidèles qui vont l’escorter de la passerelle à l’aérogare en l’abritant du soleil sous une sorte d’ombrelle. C’est fou le respect qu’on les gens d’ici pour ces moines !
Un chauffeur nous attend. Il nous conduit vers le lac Inlé. Nous mettrons moins d’une heure pour arriver à destination. En route nous nous arrêtons pour visiter le monastère Shwe Yan Pyay. Entièrement réalisé en bois sculpté il repose sur des pilotis.
L’intérieur est beau, les plafonds sont dorés, les fenêtres sont ovales. On peut y voir des moinillons étudier.
Dans la cour une petite pagode dont les murs sont percés de niches abritant des bouddhas offerts par des particuliers venant de toutes les contrées du monde. Chaque Bouddha est accompagné par d’une petite plaque indiquant le nom du donateur et sa ville d’origine.
Moins de 100 m après le monastère on franchit le « péage » où l’on s’acquitte des 15000 ks accordant le droit de visite du lac Inlé et de ses environs et on prend possession de notre chambre à la « Maison Birmane » où nous sommes accueillis par la gérante qui parle un peu français. Notre séjour ici sera très agréable : belle suite, excellents Pdj, personnel aux petits soins.
A peine arrivés, un tricycle nous conduit à l’embarcadère où on prend place à bord d’une pirogue en direction des villages sur pilotis. Un long chenal nous conduit au mythique lac.
Quand ils nous voient, des « pécheurs » s’emparent de leur nasse et prennent la position que l’on voit sur toutes les photos. Les vrais pécheurs, plus nombreux, n’utilisent que rarement la nasse mais travaillent avec un filet. Ils se mettent à genoux sur leurs embarcations et frappent violemment la surface de l’eau avec leur rame pour effrayer les poissons tapis sous les jacinthes d’eau et les attrapent au filet. La manière avec laquelle ils manient leurs rames à l’aide d’une seule jambe est remarquable. Le spectacle est très beau.
Nous sommes en pleine période de récolte des tomates et nous croisons de nombreuses pirogues qui les ramènent au village. Elles seront triées puis mises dans des cageots avant de prendre la route vers les marchés de Mandalay ou de Yangoon.
Arrivés dans un premier village lacustre nous prenons place dans un des restaurants qui dominent le lac. Cela nous permet, tout en déjeunant, de suivre l’activité et le trafic sur l’eau ainsi que d’entrevoir des jardins flottants. Puis nous sillonnons les « ruelles » du village que surplombent les maisons sur pilotis. On y trouve des superettes, une pompe à essence, des garages de réparation de moteur, des écoles, des stupas…; les enfants sourient et nous adressent des coucous. C'est toute la vie quotidienne qui se déroule sous nos yeux, des travaux des champs à la toilette dans le lac. Bref sur le lac on vit presque comme sur la terre ferme. Pour nous cela nous rappelle certains villages du Tonlé Sap.
Durant ces 2 jours nous visiterons de nombreux ateliers d’artisans : fabrication de pirogues, d’ombrelles et de parasols, de bijoux en argent, tissage de la soie ou des fibres de lotus. Nous nous laisserons tentés par quelques babioles que nous retrouverons sur les marchés à un prix nettement inférieur.
Outre celles des pécheurs et des agriculteurs l’activité sur le lac est intense : transport de marchandises et de personnes, récupération de sable ou de limon dans le fond du lac, cueillette des algues et des jacinthes d’eau. Par endroit cette plante prolifère tellement que les barques doivent littéralement surfer sur le tapis qu’elle forme.
Jour 3 Lac Inlé (2)
La seconde journée nous remontons une rivière en direction d’Inthein. La remontée du chenal nous offre des scènes de vie et de beaux paysages :
Ici se tient un grand marché essentiellement à destination des touristes.
Nous sommes attirés par des « cartes postales » représentant des scènes de pêche ou des stupas, dont l’originalité est d’être peintes à la main. Pour les faire sécher les artistes les suspendent sur des cordes.
Le village est renommé pour son « cimetière de stupas » datant pour les plus anciens du 14ième siècle. On en trouve des milliers, une véritable forêt, la plupart en ruine ou en très mauvais état certains, très peu, sont restaurés ou n’ont pas subi les outrages du temps. Par endroit la végétation a repris ses droits. L’ensemble mérite le détour.
Puis nous faisons « route » vers la pagode Phaung Daw Oo. C’est la plus vénérée du site. Elle renferme 5 petites statues de bouddha déformées par l’amoncellement de feuilles d’or apposées par les fidèles.
Jouxtant la pagode, un immense hangar abrite la barque royale et ses navires d’escorte. Leurs proues représentent des têtes d’oiseaux et elles sont entièrement dorées. Elles naviguent lors d’une procession annuelle (octobre) qui portera quatre des bouddhas vers divers temples sur le lac.
Nous rentrons en passant au milieu des jardins flottants, véritables tapis végétaux constitués de plantes aquatiques et de limon qui sont fixés dans le fond du lac à l’aide de pieux de bambou plantés dans le sol. Fleurs et légumes y poussent en abondance grâce aux nutriments contenus dans l’eau. Sur le retour nous aurons la chance de voir le coucher du soleil sur les collines qui cernent le lac.
Un petit tour vers le marché de nuit qui nous parait bien sale et glauque. Nous faisons rapidement demi tour pour regagner notre hôtel.
Quelques ateliers (barques, nasses, métaux, soieries):
Court vol de Heho vers Mandalay toujours avec BKZ
Pour rejoindre l’hôtel nous longeons le gigantesque fort de Mandalay. Il s’agit d’une immense enceinte militaire, carré parfait de 1,6 km de coté constitué de murailles hautes de 9 m et épaisses de 3 m et entourée de douves de 75 m de largeur, l’ensemble étant destiné à protéger le palais royal.
Nos visites débutent par le remarquable monastère Shwenandaw, littéralement « palais d’or ».
Ce magnifique bâtiment est tout en teck finement ciselé. Son histoire est particulièrement mouvementée : il a été construit à l’origine à Amarapura puis il a été démonté et déplacé, sur ordre du roi Mindon, vers la nouvelle capitale Mandalay (1857) et reconstruit dans l’enceinte du fort dont on vient de parler. Il fut déplacé une seconde fois dans cette « cité interdite » et il prit rang de monastère. Ce second déplacement le sauva des flammes quand le site fut bombardé par les Anglais pour en chasser les Japonais durant la seconde guerre mondiale. « Palais d’or » car à l’origine il était couvert d’or que ce soit à l’intérieur ou à l’extérieur. Aujourd’hui il conserve de nombreuses feuilles d’or sur les parois intérieures qui témoignent de cette splendeur passée. Mais avec ou sans or ce monastère est une véritable œuvre d’art, d’un raffinement extraordinaire. Des statuettes en bois, toutes aussi fines, décorent portes fenêtres et bas relief. De nos jours, dans son enceinte on continue à enseigner la sculpture sur bois afin de restaurer les parties dégradées.
Nos pas nous conduisent ensuite vers la pagode Kuthodaw. Sa particularité réside dans les 729 stèles d’albâtre sur lesquelles sont sculptées, recto verso, les préceptes de bouddha. Chacune de ces stèles est abritée dans un petit stupa blanc. L’ensemble, disposé autour de la pagode centrale toute d’or « vêtue » est considéré comme le plus grand livre du monde.
Autre merveille : la très vénérée pagode Mahamuni qui abrite le bouddha du même nom. Vieille d’environ 2500 ans cette statue de bronze mesure 4 m de hauteur et est entièrement ensevelie sous 3 tonnes de feuilles d’or ! Les moines bouddhistes lavent quotidiennement le visage et les dents du Bouddha et seuls les hommes sont autorisés à la toucher et y déposer de l’or. Prise de guerre, cette statue a également déménagée à plusieurs reprises par le passé. Sur le parvis on peut admirer des statues khmères en provenance des temples d’Angkor.
Autre temple dont j'ai oublié le nom :
Nous regagnons enfin l’hôtel « Victoria Palace » qui sera notre résidence à Mandalay.
Aujourd’hui notre guide nous amène à Mingun. Pour nous y rendre nous rejoignons l’embarcadère et prenons un bateau privé pour une traversée d’environ 1 h.
Cela nous donne l’occasion d’admirer la vie sur le fleuve et sur ses rives. L’entrée du site de Mingun était gardée par 2 gigantesques lions construits en briques dont ils ne restent que le corps. Leurs têtes sont tombées en direction du fleuve suite à des secousses sismiques. La légende dit que des prophètes avaient prédit que les lions iraient boire l’eau du fleuve après un séisme.
Nous nous dirigeons vers la pagode inachevée. A l’origine le roi Badowpaya désirait bâtir la plus grande pagode du monde. Elle devait culminer à 153 m de hauteur. Faute de fonds le projet ne fut pas poursuivi par son successeur. Elle atteint seulement 50 m et a subi un fort tremblement de terre en 1838. L’effondrement de la partie supérieure eut pour conséquence d’ensevelir les trésors qui y étaient enfermés. D’immenses lézardes balafrent le bâtiment.
Un peu plus loin nous pouvons admirer la plus grosse cloche du monde. Haute de 4 m et de diamètre 5 m elle pèserait 90 tonnes et l’on peut pénétrer à l’intérieur. Son créateur fut parait-il exécuté pour l’empêcher de réaliser une autre cloche aussi belle.
Notre promenade nous conduit à la pagode de Myantheindan commandée par un roi pour honorer son épouse décédée. Elle est très originale et de toute beauté. D’un blanc immaculé elle est composée de 7 terrasses concentriques symbolisant les sept mers et d’un stupa représentant le Mont Meru.
Des escaliers couverts permettent d’atteindre le sommet d’où l’on a une vue magnifique sur le fleuve.
C’est aussi dans ce village qu’un bâtiment abrite la statue d’un bonze érudit qui connaissait par cœur le livre des enseignements de Bouddha.
Nous rejoignons notre embarcation pour retourner sur Mandalay et faire route vers Sagaing, ancienne capitale royale, où nous déjeunons. Puis nous entamons la visite de la colline aux milles pagodes (en fait un ensemble de sanctuaires, stupas, pagodes et monastères). Nous nous contentons d’en visiter deux. La très vénérée pagode U Ponia qui abrite sous un stupa doré un imposant Bouddha.
Suivant la légende la colline ressemblait à l’origine à un crapaud géant ce qui « justifie » les statues de grenouilles qu’on y trouve.
Ce lieu offre un très beau point de vue sur le fleuve Irrawaddy et ses ponts, sur la ville et sur les collines environnantes où resplendissent les stupas.
Puis le temple troglodyte Umin Thonze Hpaya nous dévoile ses 45 bouddhas disposés en arc de cercle. L’ensemble est très coloré. Ils symbolisent les 45 années durant lesquelles le Bouddha a enseigné. D’ici aussi le panorama est superbe.
Au pied de la colline le guide fait ouvrir le temple Tilawkaguru, qui est en fait une grotte aménagée et ornée de fresques que l’on contemple à la lueur de bougies ou aujourd’hui de portables. Très peu de personnes visitent ce lieu c’est la raison pour laquelle il faut demander l’ouverture dans un autre temple.
Sur le retour nous nous arrêtons dans un atelier de fabrique de feuilles d’or qui sont pour la plus grand part vendues dans les temples pour recouvrir les statues de Bouddha. Ce travail très pénible est entièrement fait manuellement : les ouvriers tapent, des heures durant, l’or à grands coups de masse.
Nous nous rendons ensuite dans un atelier de tissage de soie. Ici le travail est plus paisible et sûrement bien moins pénible.
La journée n’est pas finie. C’est le moment de nous rendre au pont U Bein, le plus long pont en tek du monde, voir le coucher de soleil. Mais on dirait que toute la ville s’est donnée rendez-vous ici ! Le pont de teck est littéralement pris d’assaut par des hordes de touristes et de locaux. On se croirait dans le métro un jour de grève. C’est est même dangereux car les gens (les chinois en particulier) se poussent littéralement.
On trouve un peu de calme sous le pont et l’on peut y admirer le coucher de soleil. Pour profiter au mieux de ce lieu il est préférable d’y venir au lever du soleil quand la foule est absente et que le pont n’est traversé que par des moines et des locaux.
Non sans peine on s’extrait de la foule pour dîner en ville avant de rejoindre un spectacle de danses traditionnelles au théâtre Minthar. Le spectacle est donné par une troupe d’amateurs encadrés par des professeurs plus âgés qui jouent sur des instruments traditionnels. Une dizaine de scénettes est présentée. Les jeunes tout comme leurs professeurs sont passionnés et cela se ressent. Les costumes sont très colorés. Le spectacle est plaisant mais notre plaisir est gâché par les moustiques qui pullulent.
Au final Mandalay est une ville qui mérite que l'on s'y arrête pour profiter de toute les merveilles qu'elle recèle.
Encore un réveil à l’aube (5h30). Notre chauffeur nous conduit à l’embarcadère pour prendre un bateau public « Alliance Myanmar » qui va nous mener jusqu’à Bagan. A bord nous sommes une vingtaine de passagers et un équipage d’une dizaine de personnes. Nous pouvons, à tout moment, nous reposer dans une cabine climatisée ou sur le pont bien aménagé pour admirer au frais ou sous le soleil la vie sur le fleuve et ses rives.
La croisière dure une dizaine heures que l’équipage s’efforce de rendre agréable. Un bon petit déjeuner nous est d’abord servi. Puis aux environs de 11 h le bateau accoste près d’un village traditionnel que nous visitons durant 2 h environ accompagnés par l’équipage qui nous guide et veille à n’oublier personne.
La visite est très agréable. Les gens sourient. Ici animaux, enfants et familles vivent en harmonie. Les scènes de vie se succèdent. Les hommes ramènent le fourrage que les femmes découpent avant de le donner aux zébus. Les enfants jouent avec rien. Des pompes manuelles fournissent l’eau potable. Des femmes vannent le riz avec dextérité. Ce village n’est pas électrisé.
Une échoppe, un atelier de fabrication de chapeaux en bambou animent la place du village. Les vielles machines à coudre (Singer) sont alimentées par des capteurs solaires.
Satisfaits de cet intermède nous regagnons le bord où un déjeuner nous est proposé. L’après midi est consacrée au repos. L’équipage propose une animation qui montre tout ce que l’on peut faire avec l’habit traditionnel : veste, chapeau, sac à dos, cabas, short, mini jupe etc .., un bon moment.
Vers 16h nous accostons à Bagan. Cette mini « croisière » aura été bien agréable surtout que le soleil nous a accompagné tout le long.
Dès l’arrivée à Bagan il nous faut nous acquitter des droits de visite (25000 k). Ici le progrès est présent. Nous sommes photographiés et ces photos sont directement transmises aux contrôleurs dans le domaine. Durant notre séjour nous serons contrôlés 2 fois.
Nous logerons à la « Villa Bagan » bon hôtel doté de chambres agréables, d’une piscine accueillante dans un beau jardin tropical bien entretenu. Un petit plouf dans la piscine
précède le repas et une bonne nuit.
Nous sommes réveillés par le « bruit » que font les montgolfières quand elles survolent l’hôtel. Nous précipitons sur le toit terrasse pour admirer la vingtaine de ballons. C’est un beau spectacle qui se renouvellera chaque matin que nous passerons ici. Les trajectoires et altitudes diffèrent avec le vent. Les plus proches passent parfois à moins de 100 m et on peut presque dévisager les occupants.
Notre chauffeur nous conduit vers le marché d’ « Old Bagan ». Immense marché, semi couvert de bâches, débordant de vie. On se faufile à travers les ruelles étroites et au milieu des étals qui débordent de fruits, de légumes, de poissons séchés, de préparations plus ou moins connues. C’est un véritable kaléidoscope de couleurs et d’odeurs. Un vrai marché asiatique comme on les aime.
Nous y passerons 2 h avant de gagner un magasin de laque. Ici on trouve toutes sortes de pièces des plus petites jusqu’à de somptueux vases de 2,50 m de hauteur les prix vont de quelques euros à plus de 25000 €. Une employée qui parle un français presque parfait nous fait visiter les ateliers et la cave où les pièces sèchent (température et taux d’humidité constants). Nous y faisons quelques emplettes mais nous reculerons devant les vases, si beaux soient-ils, car nous ne sommes pas sûrs qu’ils seront acceptés comme bagage à main sur les vols retour !
Avant de débuter les visites des pagodes un petit mot d’histoire. Le site de Bagan atteint son apogée à la fin du 11ième siècle pour commencer à décliner au 13ième. Il n’est pas classé au patrimoine de l’humanité par l’UNESCO en raison de la construction d’un bâtiment moderne qui selon l’organisme vient gâcher le paysage. Une autre hypothèse indique que c’est la junte militaire qui aurait refusé le classement. Le site a subi un important tremblement de terre en 1975 qui a occasionné beaucoup de dégâts. Des travaux de consolidation ou de rénovation sont encore en cours.
Le nombre d’édifices de toutes formes et de toutes tailles est tel que, seuls, nous ne saurions par où commencer. On laisse donc le chauffeur nous guider à travers cette multitude de stupas.
Il serait illusoire de décrire et de raconter l’histoire de tous les stupas que nous avons visités. Je me contenterai de vous parler des principaux.
Pour commencer la pagode Shwezigon qui date du 11ième siècle. Extérieurement on distingue 3 terrasses habillées de plaques en terre cuite émaillée qui retracent les vies du Bouddha. Elles sont surmontées d’un grand stupa en forme de cloche qui contiendrait un os et une dent de Bouddha et il est recouvert de feuilles d’or. On se croirait devant une montagne d’or qui brille de tous ses feux sous les rayons du soleil. Une petite enceinte abrite les effigies des 37 grands Nats (« esprits protecteurs») toujours vénérés par les Birmans et quatre pavillons abritent chacun un Bouddha en bronze de 4 m de hauteur.
Place au temple d’Ananda qui constitue le clou des visites. Il est sans doute le plus beau et c’est en tout cas le plus visité. En particulier des groupes de chinois défilent ici au pas de course. Comme partout ils sont peu aimés des autochtones qui leur reprochent leur sans gêne, leur arrogance, leurs mauvaises manières.
Mais revenons au temple d’inspiration Indienne. Son toit est formé de 6 terrasses dominées par un stupa effilé couvert d’or et dont l’ombrelle culmine à 56 m. Il est entièrement restauré. Ses flèches viennent d’être redorées. Le temple abrite, aux quatre points cardinaux, une statue de Bouddha géante (9 m), en bois de teck, recouverte d’or. Deux d’entre elles ont la particularité de changer d’expression du visage suivant la distance à laquelle on les observe : de loin ils sourient et quand on s’approche ils sont plus sévères. Le temple possède 3 couloirs de déambulation et dispose de plus d’un millier de fenêtres. Il renferme 1424 petits Bouddhas. Sa base est ornée de deux rangées de plaques de terre cuite illustrant des scènes des « Jataka » (contes et histoires sur les vies antérieures du Bouddha historique).
Pour accéder au trône le roi Narathu fit assassiner son père et son frère aîné. Pour expier cette faute il fit construire le temple Dhammayangyi au milieu du XIIe siècle. Le roi exigea que les briques soient si serrées afin que l’on ne puisse pas passer une aiguille entre elles et les ouvriers qui ne se conformaient à cette demande se faisaient couper la main. Le roi épousa une princesse indienne qu’il tua également. Pour la venger, la famille de cette dernière le fit tuer après seulement trois années de règne ce qui explique que la construction ne fut jamais achevée. Ce temple très massif est le plus grand de Bagan. Dans son intérieur on peut admirer deux bouddhas jumeaux (un pour le père et un pour le frère assassinés), assis et aux visages d'or.
Le temple de Htilominlo est le dernier grand temple bouddhique construit à Bagan au cours du XIIIe siècle. La légende raconte que le roi devait choisir comme héritier de l'un de ses cinq fils. Il écrivit le nom de son préféré sur un parapluie blanc (symbole de la royauté) qu’il jeta, en l’air. Le lieu où le parapluie retomba fut choisi comme emplacement du temple. Il s'élève à 46 mètres de hauteur, sur deux étages de briques couverts de stucs. Il possède un magnifique Bouddha doré qui attire de nombreux fidèles. Fortement endommagé lors du tremblement de terre de 1975 il est aujourd’hui restauré.
En parlant du tremblement de terre on peut constater que tous les temples ne sont pas encore restaurés. Des travaux sont en cours ici où là. Cela donne l’occasion d’admirer les superbes échafaudages en bambou qui parsèment le site. Quelle élégance quand un de ces ouvrages épouse la forme du stupa. Ils constituent une œuvre d’art à part entière ajoutant de la finesse à l’ensemble d’un temple. On est bien loin du côté massif de ceux apposés sur Notre Dame !
Comme pour toute visite de Bagan nous n’échappons pas au coucher du soleil sur une des collines qui domine la plaine. Mais la foule est très dense et le spectacle gâché par les nuages. Par chance pour la traditionnelle promenade en calèche tirée par un cheval nous évitons le circuit habituel ce qui nous permettra d’éviter la poussière des convois.
Pour éviter la saturation de temples nous visitons un monastère totalement délaissé par les touristes. Bâti sur la rive du fleuve on y retrouve tranquillité et quiétude tout en admirant les fresques de bois sculptées et la vie des moines.
Autre excellente proposition de notre TO nous prenons une barque (10 mn) pour gagner une île sur le fleuve. Des locaux y vivent durant la saison sèche dans un village dénommé Kyun Thiri. Cette localité est aidée par trois agences de tourisme qui y font venir chaque jour un maximum de 6 couples. Ces agences ont créé un petit restaurant qui emploie 3 à 4 personnes. Nous y déjeunerons très bien. De plus elle donne du travail aux charretiers, et aux guides qui vont visiter le lieu à chaque couple.
Un char tiré par deux bœufs nous conduit au petit village sur un chemin très cabossé et poussiéreux à « souhait ». Heureusement il n’y a pas grand monde.
Notre guide nous promène à travers champs de piments, d’oignons d’arachides, de pois. Ces champs sont parfaitement entretenus et irrigués par des canaux dont l’eau provient des nombreux puits manuels qui parsèment le village.
Nous faisons halte à l’école du village. Les salles sont aménagées sous un grand préau et sont dépourvues de murs.
Dans le jardin des maisons bâties sur pilotis on peut voir de buttes de sable d’environ 2 m de hauteur qui sont destinées à mettre les animaux au sec durant les crues du fleuve. Quand ces crues sont trop fortes, le village est entièrement évacué.
Partout les gens vaguent à leur occupation, souriant heureux d’échapper au tumulte de la ville qui cependant reste à portée de barque. Une famille nous offre une tasse de thé.
Comme indiqué plus haut nous retrouvons les autres couples au restaurant du village.
Nous dégustons une bière, un bon repas sous le regard bienveillant du personnel. Il n’en faut pas plus pour savourer notre plaisir. Il faut noter que tous les visiteurs sont francophones (Belges, Suisses et Français) car notre guide nous explique que seuls les francophones sont intéressés par ce contact avec les autochtones. Les agences limitent volontairement l’envoi de clients dans ce lieu pour ne pas le dénaturer. En tout cas pour notre part nous avons adoré cette parenthèse.
En début d’après midi nous retrouvons notre char à bœuf pour le retour toujours aussi poussiéreux, notre barque, notre chauffeur. Une après midi à buller au bord ou dans la piscine et les visites reprennent quand la chaleur est un peu tombée.
Aujourd’hui nous reprenons un avion pour Ngapali. Le vol fera une escale à Heho sans que nous descendions. A l’arrivée nous sommes accueillis par un chauffeur de l’hôtel « Yoma Cherry Lodge »qui conduit un magnifique engin (type jeepney) bariolé de bleu et couvert de poissons.
Nous traversons la ville pour rejoindre notre hôtel. Une fois l’enceinte passée nous nous trouvons dans un lieu enchanteur. Tout ici respire le calme, la sérénité. Un jardin tropical parfaitement entretenu, des fleurs partout, des petits bassins ça et là.
Sur la terrasse de l'hôtel on voit une flottille de bateaux de pêche qui généralement sortent la nuit. Durant notre séjour une tempête tropicale dans le golfe du Bengale les empêchera de prendre la mer et ils iront s’abriter à l’embouchure de la rivière voisine.
Le restaurant donne sur une magnifique plage pratiquement déserte. Trois petits hôtels et quelques restaurants de plage se partagent 3 km de plage. Le sable est propre, l’eau est a température idéale.
Bref c’est le paradis. Nous resterons ici 3 jours à fainéanter entre transat, bain de mer même sous la pluie, massages, cocktails, petits restaurants. La cuisine de l’hôtel est excellente et curieusement pas plus chère que dans les petites gargotes. Nous y dégusterons de formidables petits déjeuners et d’excellents poissons tout frais péchés. C’est avec beaucoup de regrets que nous quitterons ce petit paradis en regrettant qu’il soit si loin de la France.
Il nous faut maintenant partir. Dans notre magnifique bus nous regagnons l’aéroport.
Malheureusement l’avion aura 2 h de retard ce qui aura pour conséquence d’écourter notre après midi à Yangoon et nous devrons sacrifier le tour de train circulaire.
A notre arrivée le chauffeur nous conduit à l’agence. Nous serons débriefés pendant plus d’une heure. Notre voyagiste s’enquière de notre ressenti, de ce que nous avons aimé ou pas, des manques, des améliorations possibles. Bref on sent un grand professionnalisme. Durant cette heure un autre groupe de voyageurs subit le même « interrogatoire ». Nous ne pouvons que dire du bien de notre voyage, non par obligation ni par politesse mais parce que c’est notre ressenti.
Puis des petits cadeaux nous remis avant que le chauffeur nous conduise aux marchés Theingyi et Skotte. Mais nous n’y trouverons pas notre bonheur : beaucoup trop touristique.
C’est notre dernière nuit à Yangoon avant de prendre le vol retour.
C’est avec regret que nous embarquons pour Doha. A l’arrivée nous distinguons bien quelques nuages noirs sur le Qatar mais cela ne nous inquiète pas le moins du monde. Nous débarquons dans cet immense aérogare tout neuf et un peu désert pour attendre notre correspondance.
Soudain le ciel d’obscurcie et chose très rare un violent orage balaye les pistes. Les avions sont détournés vers d’autres lieux plus cléments. En conséquence notre vol sera retardé de 2h30 (malheureusement pas assez pour bénéficier d’une prise en charge !). Il doit pleuvoir avec une telle intensité que 2 ou 3 fois par an ici et nous y avons eu droit. Pour le retour vers Paris nous prendrons pour la première fois un A350 encore une magnifique réussite d’Airbus.
Un très beau voyage sous un temps clément à l’exception que quelques petits orages.
L’agence : nous ne pouvons que nous féliciter d’avoir eu recours aux services d’ « Adorable Manmyar ». Tout s’est parfaitement déroulé, sans aucune fausse note. Les guides et chauffeurs étaient très biens, les voitures en bon état, les hôtels confortables. Nous avons particulièrement apprécié la visite du village (à Bagan) qui sort des sentiers battus et le fait que nous soyons questionnés sur notre ressenti afin de leur permettre d’améliorer leurs services pour les futurs clients.
Les Birmans : nous avons aimé les nombreux sourires, la gentillesse omniprésente pratiquement partout. On a l’impression que les gens se sont libérés depuis le « retrait » même partiel de la junte militaire. Les guides parlent sans tabous apparents mais ils évitent les discussions sur le sujet des « Rohingyas ».
Et si les sites sont envahis par les boutiques touristiques nous n’avons jamais senti le moindre harcèlement.
Nourriture :
D’une manière générale nous avons souvent très bien mangé en Asie du SE. Nous ne pouvons pas dire cela pour la Birmanie. La nourriture est correcte sans plus. A notre grande surprise nous n’avons jamais mangé de bons fruits sans en comprendre la raison (tout le contraire des Philippines que nous avons visité en février). Nos meilleurs repas nous les avons eu au bord de mer avec d’excellents poisons frais. Par contre les prix sont très bas : nous n’avons jamais dépassé 15 € à deux avec les boisons et c’était même parfois moins de 10 €.
Quelques prix des entrées sur les sites touristiques qui pourraient intéresser de futurs voyageurs :
Yangon : Droit d’entrée à la pagode Shwedagon : 10000 MMK, à la pagode Sule : 5000 MMK
Bago : Droit d’entrée du site : 10000 MMK
Kyaik Htee Yoe : 10000 MMK
Hpa An : Droit d’entrée de la grotte Kaw Kon : 3000 MMK , de la grotte Sadan : 1000 MMK, de la colline Zwekabin : 3 USD
Inle : Droit d’entrée sur le site : 15000 MMK
Pindaya : Droit d’entrée sur le site : 5 USD
: Droit d’entrée de la pagode Shwe U Min : 3000 MMK
Kakku : Droit d’entrée dans la pagode Kakku : 3 USD
Loikaw : Droit d’entrée du musée : 5000 MMK
Mandalay : Droit d’entrée sur les temples : 10000 MMK, sur la colline Mandalay : 1000 MMK, dans la pagode Mahamuni : 5000 MMK, dans le marché de Jade : 2500 MMK
Sagaing : Droit d’entrée sur le site : 5000 MMK
Bagan : Droit d’entrée sur l’ensemble du site (seulement 3 jours validité) : 25000 MMK
J'en ai terminé avec ce CR et j'espère que certains y trouverons l'envie de parcourir ce beau pays.
Nous rentrons du Guatemala (février 2020) et je vais préparer un CR sur ce voyage qui nous change de l'Asie mais qui nous a également enchanté.
Bons voyages à tous
Larri
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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.
March 2nd — Departure by bus from Latour at 6:50 AM. The journey isn’t direct: we pass through Elne then Corneilla. In Perpignan, I switch to a BlablaBus heading to Barcelona’s northern bus station. Before reaching Le Perthus, French police stop us to check IDs. Several people aren’t in order, but after about fifteen minutes, we’re on our way again. We’re checked again at La Jonquera: this time, the wait lasts almost forty-five minutes while police identify those in violation and wait for a vehicle to pick them up. The driver then tries to make up for lost time; we finally arrive at our destination half an hour late.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.
Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.
Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church
, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes
—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit.
I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.
Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare
We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.
We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.
This travel journal summarizes a trip I took in March to Argentine and Chilean Patagonia. It starts in El Calafate and ends in Ushuaia. During my planning, I considered looking into the Australis cruise from Punta Arenas to Ushuaia, as well as the W trek in Torres del Paine National Park. In both cases, I was put off by the prices. Instead of the cruise, I found two interesting wildlife excursions from Punta Arenas: whale watching in the Strait of Magellan and observing king penguins in Tierra del Fuego. The journey to Ushuaia was by bus. For Torres del Paine, things were a bit confusing, so I reached out to two agencies. In the end, I went with a rental car option, overnight stays on-site, and day hikes. I shared my full itinerary with the agency and ended up being taken care of by a local Argentine agency and a Chilean one.
So, here we go...
This 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.
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style.
All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert.
However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about it.
I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.
I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guardians for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course.
Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious.
Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons.
That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though? Much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been full of holes for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and enormous beast with its own garden. Yet it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water there for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not just for fun—these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
I’m a newbie to this forum, passionate about wildlife, the landscapes of East Africa, and Tanzania in particular.
This June 2024 trip/safari is our 7th visit to Tanzania and our 5th in the south, which has drawn us more than the north ever since we discovered it in 2015.
In 2024, the entrance fees for the reserves and services have gone up again since our last visit.
I chose to return first to Mikumi Reserve, which was the very first one we visited in the south. Then, we’ll head to Selous (J. Nyerere N. P.) as usual.
Initially, we wanted to spend 2/3 days on Mafia Island at the end of the trip, but it made the total cost too high, so we gave up...
We usually go to Ruaha and Selous, but I wanted to mix it up a bit—also to save some money...
As for the timing, June is a new experience for us. I thought it might be interesting to come just after the lodges reopen... hoping for some great wildlife encounters??
The trip starts in Marseille with our first flight on Ethiopian Airlines to Addis Ababa, then continues to Dar es Salaam, where we’ll finally set foot on Tanzanian soil again.
In Addis... "our" A-350.
.....
After arriving in Dar, we spent one night at a hotel near the airport. The next morning, we headed to the domestic flights terminal, which hasn’t changed in years.
By mid-morning, we boarded a Cessna 208B Caravan with Safari Air Link, heading to the Kikoboga bush airstrip in Mikumi, which we reached 45 minutes later.
Fun fact: the pilot was the same one as on our return flight two years ago.
Welcome on board:
Of course, a driver/guide team from our chosen lodge was waiting for us upon arrival:
I was surprised to see so many aircraft parked there... even twin-engine Embraer Brasilias??
As a fan of vintage planes, I loved it...
On the other hand, the light was incredibly harsh.....!!
Our guides only speak English. We knew that in advance. In the south, it’s very rare to find someone who speaks French. This’ll force us to dig into our high school English memories... from 60 years ago... at least.
It’s noon, and we head toward the lodge.
Near the airstrip, next to the Mikumi rangers’ base, there are quite a few herbivores. They find a bit more peace here—the big cats don’t venture this way...
Our first encounter was a group of Masai giraffes.
Rarer (for us), a savanna monitor lizard basking in the sun right in the middle of the track...??
A large gathering of impalas (mostly males) along with a few blue wildebeest:
Also unusual: a African crowned hornbill taking a dust bath in the middle of the track...!!
When it comes to identifying mammals or birds, I don’t know everything... so I might make mistakes. Please forgive me.
I’m counting on my friend Blesl’s active participation... 😉
Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.
It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected.
Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel.
I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability.
So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.
I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:
Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras
Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya
Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat
Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott
Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou
To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog:
From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while.
When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing.
The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
Just back from two weeks in Andalusia, and I wanted to share this experience with you—maybe it’ll help with planning a trip. I’ll start with a quick recap in this post and try to add photos and day-by-day details later (still sorting through them). Hope I don’t bore you too much! 😎
Trip details:
April 20 to May 4, 2019:
7 days on the Costa de la Luz (El Puerto de Santa María) in an Airbnb,
4 days at the junction of the Costa del Sol and Costa Tropical (Salobreña) in an Airbnb,
3 days at Cabo de Gata for some rest at a campsite in Los Escullos.
Two families of four, each with our own car: three 9-year-old boys and a 6-year-old girl. One family was more into city exploration (not us, but we’re working on it), and the other preferred relaxation and nature (that’s us). We speak a little Spanish.
Over 5,000 km, including 2,500 km for the round trip from Carcassonne.
The weather: Variable, but we expected better for this region in late April. The first week on the Costa de la Luz was sometimes chilly (< 20°C), and the second week was warmer but not excessive (< 25°C). At least we didn’t get much rain!
Our budget: Around 2600 € per family:
700 € for accommodations, about 50 € per night,
1000 € for meals and restaurants. We usually spent around 50 € per family at restaurants—we ate out for lunch (except for 2–3 picnics) and cooked at home in the evenings, trying to be back by 6 PM.
600 € for activities: Río Tinto, a flamenco show, visits to the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar, Oasis Park with meals, and a kayaking trip.
300 € for gas and tolls.
Preparation: A few months ahead with bookings for accommodations and tickets for the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar. We used a few travel guides—I like the *Évasion* guide for initial planning. *Géoguide* was okay, but our friends’ *Routard* was the most useful. We also spent three months brushing up on Spanish with Mosalingua (a great spaced-repetition method, max 10 minutes a day). Downloaded Maps.me and the Andalusia map in advance—essential. And we used Tricount to track shared expenses with friends—super handy.
What we did/saw:
3 city visits (Seville, Granada, and Cádiz) + Málaga for our friends (we vetoed Córdoba—too many cities for us).
4 white villages (Vejer de la Frontera, Arcos de la Frontera, Grazalema, Ronda) + Tarifa for our friends.
Beaches (Tarifa and Bolonia, Matalascañas, Nerja, Cabo de Gata).
Nature and fun moments: Doñana National Park, a kayaking trip along the rocky coast near Nerja, and the Wild West/animal park in the Tabernas Desert.
A little culture: Río Tinto mines, the archaeological site of Itálica, Columbus’s caravels, Nerja Cave for us, and the Picasso Museum in Málaga for our friends. Plus, seeing the ham-drying process in the Alpujarras (for our friends).
Our highlights
Nerja and the surrounding villages: The rocky coast was amazing, and we loved the kayaking trip, even if the water was freezing for snorkeling. The beaches are sheltered from the wind, the town is charming, and the cave is incredible.
El Rocío and Doñana National Park. El Rocío has a timeless, almost Wild West vibe—we could’ve stayed a day or two. The quiet and pine scents reminded us of the Landes region.
What we didn’t love as much:
Río Tinto mines: Not super exciting, and the guides’ nonstop chatter kind of ruined the "nature" experience.
Our little regrets (for next time):
Forgetting our passports and missing a day trip to Tangier from Tarifa.
Not having an extra day around Nerja to go snowboarding in the Sierra Nevada—just 1.5 hours away (the kayak guide suggested it).
Not spending at least one night in El Rocío to explore Doñana National Park at dawn.
Antequera with the Guadalhorce reservoir and the Caminito del Rey (but it would’ve meant 2 more hours of driving, and we didn’t have the energy).
My general impressions of Andalusia and Spain
Landscapes: A feeling of extreme concentration of a single activity in some areas—endless olive groves, wind farms on the Costa de la Luz (which I thought were well-integrated), rows of buildings along the Costa del Sol (yikes, glad we didn’t stop there), greenhouses around Almería (a shame to have frozen the coast for so many kilometers), and the massive industrial port of Huelva.
What surprised us compared to France was the lack of small hamlets—villages are clearly defined, and people cluster there, leaving vast landscapes without human presence. In France, you find houses scattered everywhere.
Roads: Relatively few tolls. Sure, rest areas aren’t as nice as in France, but the roads are in good condition, and our wallet was happy. The roads are pretty straight with countless bridges and tunnels—the upside (besides fast travel) is that there aren’t many secondary roads disrupting the scenery.
Tourism and activities: A huge variety and richness. Feels like everyone can find something they like, and 15 days barely scratched the surface. It’s amazing how quickly you go from the coast to snow-capped peaks (Sierra Nevada) or from farmland to desert (Tabernas). And the mix of European and Arabic architecture in the same city is really special.
One small regret: Not interacting more with locals. We didn’t luck out with our Airbnbs. But shopkeepers were great—very patient with my broken Spanish! :-)
Overall, I think our choice to stay on the Costa de la Luz and then near Nerja worked well. We could explore pretty easily (even if we logged a lot of kilometers), and the settings were fantastic. The 3 days of total relaxation at Cabo de Gata were perfect.
If you prefer shorter stops, you could try staying in El Rocío (easy access to Seville and great for an early visit to Doñana National Park) or maybe Grazalema for a hike in the mountains (weather-dependent). And of course, Tarifa for a day trip to Tangier or Gibraltar.