I'm starting a new travel journal in Italy.
It's about a month-long trip (from September 3, 2025, to October 4, 2025), or rather a part of it. This section matches the title: an opera festival in Verona (one evening) and the Dolomites in the Veneto region.
I'm posting the part of the trip I think will interest French-speaking readers the most (since this is where I saw the most French travelers).
Here’s a quick summary:
- Trip in September 2025
- Solo travel with camping (caravan)
- Small geographic area: besides Verona, the surroundings of the Marmolada massif and Cortina d'Ampezzo.
- Main but not exclusive activity: hiking.
Since I have limited internet access where I am now, I’ll be writing slowly.
Here we go!
Day 1: Thursday, September 4, 2025
I arrived in Veneto under the sun and with warm weather. I drove to Verona and tried to find a spot at the campsite (Verona Village) located south of the city. Unfortunately, it was full. Booking on the website was mandatory, but when I tried to reserve a few days ago, the site never moved from the "reservation" step to the "payment" step (I don’t know why—it’s always like that in these cases).
I found another solution over the phone; the drive from southern Verona to the northeast was a bit long, but I finally settled at the "Oro Verde" campsite. It’s an "agricampeggio" (farm camping or rural campsite) on the outskirts of the city, and its name (green gold) suggests they produce olives there.
Since it wasn’t late, I biked to the Adige River, following the recommended route into the city.
I planned a very relaxed day because the reason for stopping in Verona is the opera festival at the Arena; I’ve booked a seat for tonight.
I’m going for a walk in the center of Verona, a stroll that will turn into a bad memory of the trip. I park my mountain bike less than 5 meters from the entrance of the tourist info point and head out for a short hour-long walk without intending to visit anything.
As I approach the Adige River, I arrive in front of the Arch of the Gavi (arco dei Gavi), a triumphal arch built in honor of members of a family.
Behind the arch, you reach a terrace by the Adige where you can admire the "ponte di Castelvecchio" (Scaliger Bridge), a medieval bridge with its three uneven arches.
You can cross this bridge, which in the Middle Ages connected the castle to the countryside.
The restoration preserved or restored its medieval appearance; by climbing onto the benches, you can see the Adige flowing and, downstream, the next bridge (Ponte della Vittoria), which marks the start of the loop surrounding the city center.
The city center was already the heart of the Roman city in the 1st century AD. I enter it by passing under a monumental gate once part of the Roman walls: porta Borsari. Only the outer facade remains; it’s not marble but local white limestone.
Through narrower, pedestrian streets, I reach the Herb Square (piazza delle erbe) and then the Lords’ Square (piazza dei Signori), at the center of which stands a statue of Dante.
Right next door, the Old Market Courtyard (cortile del Mercato Vecchio) is bordered by the Palace of Reason (Palazzo della Ragione).
These two squares and the Old Market Courtyard are only a few dozen meters apart and form the heart of the city. On my way back to the arena, I pass through the main street of the center (via Giuseppe Mazzini) and return to the starting point.
And then... my mountain bike is gone. It was stolen while I was away. I’ll later learn, once back at the campsite, that this type of theft is common in Verona. I’m really upset, both because I liked that bike and because of the consequences for the trip; I’ll have to get around either by car or on foot, without using a bike, which I’m not used to.
A few errands and some downtime in the afternoon in preparation for the evening at the Verona Arena.
The opera on the program is *Nabucco* by Giuseppe Verdi, directed by Stefano Poda.
The temperature is perfect.
From the very beginning of the show (and even before it starts), it’s clear that the deliberate choice is to go beyond a traditional opera performance and offer a total spectacle with a very futuristic vision.
And even before that... because two large structures (metal or fiber, with neon or laser lights) are suspended above the stage, floating in space.
Imagine a tennis ball.
A closed curve (where there’s no yellow felt) is drawn on the ball’s surface. Cut the ball (with a cutter) along this curve. You get two surfaces, parts of a sphere. They’re not what we call hemispheres, but we’ve still divided the sphere into two equal parts—let’s say semi-spheres.
Now, think in 3D: draw segments from the center of the sphere to any point on the edge of these two parts (these segments are like radii). That’s what’s floating above the stage in the Verona Arena—two semi-spheres.
Here’s one during the show (I chose a photo where these segments—the radii—are visible).
Two things from my personal history made the geometric identification of these shapes immediate and obvious. And I knew, even before the show started, that at some point they would come together and fit into each other to form a sphere or a ball... This happened at the end of the opera, during the final reconciliation-expiation scene.
For those without the key (a tennis ball and sphere geometry), I suppose the presence of such unidentified structures must be puzzling... you might think they resemble mollusk shells like those you’d see in natural history museums.
Two months after writing the above, I’ll add this: in my opinion, these structures look like cashew nuts (I couldn’t find a better intuitive comparison).
For most of the show, the immense stage was filled with hundreds of choristers, dancers, and extras. The costumes are beautiful—either timeless or futuristic. The mass effect is used to the fullest, highlighted by special effects for masks, swords, foldable mobile structures (prisons), etc.
"Vanity" sits atop an enormous hourglass; it will flow into it, and down the staircase extending below, in glowing letters but also in flesh and blood when certain protagonists descend the stairs to enter the stage.
Hundreds of other hourglasses will appear on stage, brought by adults or children, held vertically or horizontally.
There will also be an atomic explosion when Nebuchadnezzar, abandoning his status as King, proclaims himself God.
The use of the stage space is captivating, dazzling (perhaps because I’d never seen an opera presented this way), and visually stunning. Being seated high up, near the front, on the side, posed no problem for taking in the whole scene.
As for the music and voices, the magic of the arena makes everything work. The effect of distance is still noticeable for the voices, though.
There was, however, one aspect of the staging that really bothered me—literally. Identifying the protagonists on stage, where there are often many people, isn’t easy; you have to search, sometimes for a while, to first find a group (the protagonists often have an entourage around them), then the protagonist within the group. Plus, the similarity of the costumes doesn’t make it easy to "separate" the protagonist from their entourage. Is it more natural and easier with a frontal view? I don’t know, but it would be preferable.
In the end, I’m left with the memory of an exceptional performance, marking my return to the arena 60 years after my first visit. I saw *Aida* here in the mid-1960s.
To see and hear—to experience—the show, search for ‘Nabucco Verona 2025’ on YouTube. You’ll find a 2-hour, 15-minute recording. It’s a capture by RAI from the premiere in June (it starts with the Italian national anthem, as it was the festival’s opening night).
To get a normal-length night’s sleep, I decide not to leave early and take my time hitting the road to the Dolomites. The drive is slow, and the end of the bypass around Vicenza is very poorly signposted.
The scenery gets beautiful as I reach the Piave River, whose valley I’ll follow upstream.
The signage helps me avoid the town of Belluno; the climb up the “fiume Piave” valley continues to Longarone, where I turn into Val di Zoldo—a lovely valley with a string of villages. I go all the way to the last hamlet before the pass, called Palafavera, above Zoldo Alto.
I set up at the campsite. It’s located between 1,500 and 1,550 meters in altitude. Across the road, there are ski lifts, biathlon facilities (a shooting range), and two mountain huts. The road then climbs to Forcella Staulanza (1,773 m) to switch valleys (I’ll do that tomorrow).
The site is dominated by Monte Pelmo (3,168 m), basking in the late-afternoon sun on its southwest face.
I chose this spot over Cortina d’Ampezzo because it’s a bit closer to the Marmolada massif, where I’ve planned my first hikes.
You’ll find maps in post 36 (end of the travel journal) to locate the different places mentioned in the Dolomites.
I went to Verona back in 2021, and a friend had recommended I see a show at the Arena. I didn’t do it, and now I regret it—I’ll have to go someday.
Anyway, your description of the stage and the opera is really detailed and gives a great idea of the show. I took a quick look at the YouTube video, and I can see why you called it "exceptional."
I also didn’t bother waiting in line for Juliet’s house—I guess the queue is still just as long for that tourist trap.
You weren’t lucky with your mountain bike—getting it stolen on the second day!
I’ll be following the rest of your travel journal with interest—I don’t know the Dolomites at all.
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
Hi Marie,
thanks for your interest in this travel journal.
The opera festival in Verona’s arenas is world-famous; just so you know, I booked my seat on the website only 10 days before the show—I hadn’t locked in my travel dates any earlier.
Today’s hike takes place under bright sunshine and summer-like temperatures. But before setting off, Monte Civetta (3,220m) is bathed in the morning sun.
Palafavera is indeed a unique spot between Monte Pelmo (to the east, sunny in the afternoon) and Monte Civetta (to the west, sunny in the morning).
The planned hike doesn’t start from Palafavera but from Arabba (a village at the foot of Passo Pordoi). It’s a stage of the “Sentiero Italia”: Rifugio Castiglioni Pian di Fedaia - Arabba (I have the GPX track), the best balcony hike in front of the Marmolada massif. The start and finish points are in two different valleys, so I’ve adapted the route as follows:
Start in Arabba - Take the cable car up to Porta Vescovo - Descend to Pian di Fedaia (trail 698) - Then the Sentiero Italia stage: climb via trail 698 - Variant via the geological trail to Passo Padon (trail 680A then trail 680) - Trail 699 to the cable car’s intermediate station - Trail 698 from the intermediate station back to Arabba.
There’s traffic this morning, but even more people at Forcella Staulanza (a starting point for hikes), the pass connecting Val di Zoldo to Val d’Agordo.
The road to Arabba is very scenic the whole way. In Arabba, parking is paid throughout the village (they’re really strict about this in the Dolomites). I find a spot just before entering the village and start from there.
I head to the cable car, buy a one-way ticket to Porta Vescovo (17.50 € according to my notes), and get into a cabin. It’s not crowded: just 2 other people in my cabin, a mountain biker in the previous one, and no one else around. At the top, about ten people are admiring the view of the Marmolada massif with its glacier on the north face. The entire hike up to Passo Padon unfolds with this view of the Marmolada; only the altitude (we’re almost at the highest point) and the position (we’re moving east) change.
A little further west in the Marmolada massif, Gran Vernel is impressive from every angle.
I start the descent toward the dam of the artificial lake (Pian di Fedaia), where I ended my hike during my 2021 trip to Trentino.
After a few photos near the dam, I head back up the same path to a trail junction. Most of the elevation gain is done, and I head toward Passo Padon and the namesake refuge, staying between 2,300 and 2,400 meters.
I’ll comment on the eastern part of the glacier, where people ski in winter. To the left, the second intermediate station of the cable car is on its rock (2,800 meters); to the right, you can make out the upper station (3,200 meters). The connection between the two is via a cable with a single pylon (on the rock near the intermediate station). I’ll come back to all this tomorrow.
Passo Padon offers sweeping views of the peaks to the east. We see Monte Civetta again, from a different angle than this morning. The northwest face, which is vertical, isn’t in the sun yet.
Monte Pelmo is a little further away (zoomed-in photo); it’s also seen from a different angle than the one at Palafavera.
Once the pass is crossed, the landscape opens up to the north, both east and west. In the distance, you can see the “Tofane,” three iconic peaks above Cortina d’Ampezzo (heavily zoomed-in photo).
From here, I start descending toward Arabba (I only lose altitude gradually and am in the Arabba ski area), with the Sella massif in front of me, peaking at Piz Boé (3,152 meters). The peak in the background to the left (you can make out a cable car station) is Sass Pordoi above Passo Pordoi.
Behind me, Monte Padon towers over the pass I’ve just crossed. Its particularity is that it’s of volcanic origin, even though it’s in the Dolomites.
Day 4: Sunday, September 7, 2025 (continued)
This part of the descent (the upper section) is full of marmots; they’re very wary and hard to photograph.
Once I reached the intermediate cable car station, I continued the descent to Arabba; this second part (intermediate station - Arabba) is much steeper than the upper section (Passo Padon - intermediate station).
On the way back to Palafavera, I stopped twice. First stop at the Colle Santa Lucia viewpoint, set up to admire Monte Civetta above and Val d’Agordo below. The sun had shifted and was now hitting the northwest face.
On the climb toward Passo Staulanza, a second stop with another view of Monte Pelmo.
I got back pretty late since I took my time on the hike. Hardly any other hikers around, especially on the return stretch from Passo Padon to Arabba.
Today, I’m not hiking; I decided to head to the top of Marmolada by cable car—well, almost to the top, since the cable car reaches 3,265 meters, while the summit is at 3,343 meters.
I drive to Malga Ciapela (1,450 meters), where the cable car starts. Of course, the parking lot right next to the lower station is paid—a real shame when you think that 95% of the people parking here are taking a round-trip from Malga Ciapela to Marmolada for 38 € (they’ve got to fill all the cash registers). Free parking (for now) near the campervan area, about 800 meters from the cable car departure.
The first section, Malga Ciapela to Banc d’Antermoia, is truly impressive: a single span with a 900-meter elevation gain.
I just switch cabins at Banc d’Antermoia and, a few minutes later, arrive at the Serauta station (2,950 meters). I’ll spend some time there on the way down, but for now, it’s straight to the top—Punta Rocca (3,265 meters).
The panoramic terrace is built on the roof of the cable car station, with a view of Punta Penia, the highest point in the Dolomites, and its 1,000-meter vertical drop on the southern side.
You can see the cross at the summit.
Below, I spot Lake Fedaia and the trails from yesterday’s hike, from Porta Vescovo to Passo Padon. Among the massifs visible from here (but not from yesterday’s route) is Sassolungo, above Canazei.
South of Punta Penia, the Ombretta massif has a very rugged appearance. The pass in the foreground (Passo dell’Ombretta) lies just below Punta Penia, connecting Val Contrin with Malga Ciapela. It’s probably tough to access given the slope and scree on both sides.
You can also see the Madonna Grotto, carved into the rock, which you reach from inside the cable car station. The inevitable Pope John Paul II visited it.
Finally, you can take a few steps on the glacier—it’s a glacier on borrowed time, and recent trends suggest it’ll disappear completely between 2040 and 2050 (thanks to climate change). This is the top of the Marmolada ski slopes, heading in the direction of the photo.
After practicing identifying them yesterday, I recognize Monte Civetta, Monte Pelmo, and the “Tofane” (in the photo). An orientation table helps with the other peaks.
This photo is taken from the top of the third section of the cable car; the glacier is below the cable, similar to the photo I took yesterday near Passo Padon (it’s the same glacial tongue seen from two different spots).
I head back down to the intermediate station (Serauta), where I have a picnic and visit the Great War Museum.
The museum has an indoor section dedicated to the war at high altitude: fighting took place here from 1915 to 1917 (lots of artifacts, photos, and archival films).
Among other things I learned, the Austrians had dug a network of trenches into the glacier (invisible from the surface since they were entirely within the ice) to provide shelter for soldiers. Since the idea didn’t stay secret, glaciers were bombed during this war—here and in Adamello (another site of the “White War” at around 3,000 meters).
The outdoor section of the museum occupies the slope of Punta Serauta, where the Italians had set up a system of pathways, shelters, and firing positions.
I return to Malga Ciapela. The road back down follows the valley floor, and I stop at the first village, Sottoguda. You have to park downstream and walk back up through the pedestrian-only village: cobblestone streets, a church, traditional houses, a tourist office where I buy Dolomites posters, and a small grocery store where I do some shopping.
A few hundred meters past the top of the village, on this abandoned road, you can access the “Serrai di Sottoguda,” which I won’t do since the site just closed. The old road to Passo Fedaia used to pass through here: crossing the village, then entering a very narrow gorge 2.5 km long that led to Malga Ciapela.
The modern road bypasses the village, crosses a bridge, and goes through a tunnel. The old road, originally a mule track, has become a walkway (paid access), likely very shady given how narrow the “Serrai di Sottoguda” gorges are.
Weather-wise, it’s a pretty nice day: the sky is overcast (at very high altitude) but very bright. Unusually mild for this elevation (3,200 and 2,950 meters).
A change in weather is forecast for tomorrow.
Back to hiking today; the weather forecast predicts overcast skies, but rain isn’t expected until 4 PM. I’m planning a shorter route, following the one from the day before yesterday on the "Sentiero Italia": Arabba - Pralongià.
I’m cutting the route even shorter by skipping the climb from Arabba to Passo di Campolongo, the pass between Arabba and Corvara. I should’ve done the climb and descent on foot since I no longer have my bike, but I’m opting for the shorter route: Passo di Campolongo - Pralongià (round trip).
The altitude is moderate: 1,875 meters at the pass, 2,140 meters at Pralongià. The trail is easy, located in Corvara’s ski area, passing through forests and mostly alpine pastures.
The view extends over the Sella massif (see the day before yesterday) and the Puez-Odle range.
Below, the Corvara valley and the Puez-Odle massif.
A zoomed-in view of "Punta di Puez" (2,913 meters, still). This massif is in Alto-Adige, and I won’t be going that way at all for the rest of the trip.
Now I can see Pralongià, the goal of the hike (where I’ll turn back), on the ridge above the dirt road. The scenery looks like this from start to finish.
At Pralongià, the small St. Anthony’s Chapel (1977) sits between the chairlifts and the refuge.
The alpine pastures of Corvara and San Cassiano surround the Pralongià plateau.
I’ll head back up this small valley, which I descended on the way out, to the trees at the top.
Shortly after, the first raindrops start falling. It’s around 12:30 PM, and I take shelter in a hut 50 meters off the trail. Inside are members of a family—grandparents and grandchildren—who, like me, are waiting for the rain to stop. They come here every year the week before school starts. Since the rain doesn’t let up, everyone has a picnic, and the wait continues.
Suddenly, one of the kids, who had gone outside, comes back in announcing there’s a naked man outside. A few seconds later, the man enters the hut. He’s wearing hiking shoes and shorts, bare-chested, no hat. Since it’s been raining for over an hour, water is streaming off him from head to toe, yet he doesn’t seem to feel the cold at all. It’s really not warm out, and I’d been hiking in multiple layers before putting on a rain jacket when the rain started. Unbelievable!
He’s mushroom picking and shows us a bag with several kilos inside (I recognized porcini among other species). He leaves again, still acting like it’s 25°C and sunny. I know Italians are crazy about mushrooms, but I’d never seen anything like this before.
Around 2:30 PM, I decide to walk in the rain for the 40 minutes it’ll take to get back to the car. The rain will continue until evening…
Once back, I check the weather forecast. "Tomorrow, rain all day; then very unsettled weather until the end of the week." I’ll leave the Dolomites tomorrow morning. I’ll come back as soon as the weather improves.
It rained all night, and it’s still raining this morning. I set off and head down to about 10 km from Belluno, then turn toward Vittorio Veneto.
I settle a few kilometers from this town in a hilly area, wedged between the plain and the Prealps. I’m going to explore this little region (the Prosecco region) and the towns of Conegliano and Vittorio Veneto—it’s in the northern part of the province of Treviso.
It’s not in the Dolomites, so it won’t be in my travel journal.
I’ll check the weather forecast daily for Cortina d'Ampezzo and the surrounding area. I don’t want to ruin the hikes I’ve planned around this town—I’ll head back up to Cortina on Sunday, September 14.
Hi Noëlle,
I think the hikes around Cortina d'Ampezzo are even more beautiful than the ones at the start of the trip; the weather will also be much sunnier in the upcoming part.
I’m back in the Dolomites. The last cloud remnants cleared in the morning while I was making my way to Cortina d’Ampezzo. It’s an easier climb compared to Val di Zoldo: more kilometers but a slightly lower altitude of just over 1,200 meters (instead of the 1,500 meters reached at Palafavera).
The camping area is located downstream from the town center, quite far from it, near the "torrente Boite" stream that flows just a few steps away. Three campgrounds are set up in this area; they’re called "Cortina," "Dolomiti," and "Rocchetta," and they operate without reservations (good to know for anyone planning to come in August). I chose the "Cortina" campground because it stays open, while the other two close during or at the end of the week. There’s a fourth campground in Cortina d’Ampezzo, located about 4 km north of the town on the road to Dobbiaco (not sure how it operates?).
I arrived before 1 p.m. and had the afternoon free to pick up some mountain activities again. I decided to visit a castle, the Castello d’Andraz, which is only open on Saturdays and Sundays in September. To get there, you have to climb the Passo del Falzarego, one of the legendary passes in the Cortina d’Ampezzo area. It’s really beautiful as soon as you leave town, and I think it gets even more stunning a few kilometers before the pass. You can see the Lagazuoi and the cable car that goes up from Passo Falzarego.
I crossed the pass and started descending toward Val d’Agordo, which is just as beautiful as the Cortina side. After 5 km, a small road on the right (a dead end) leads to Castello d’Andraz.
From this angle, the background of the photo is dominated by the Averau-Nuvolau massif. A different shot would show the Lagazuoi, which is further to the left.
The castle overlooks the valley and is built against a massive rock. Below the rock, there’s a forecourt (which isn’t an entrance to the castle) preceded by a fortification, and the actual south façade is built above the rock’s ridge. On the north side, a stream flows at the bottom of a sheer gorge, and they had to build the access level right away (a single access via a drawbridge, whose location you can still make out).
The model below helps you better understand the elevation of the structure.
A detailed audio guide provides historical information and insights into the construction (let’s call them architectural details). It was a border between the possessions of the Bishop of Bressanone and those of the Republic of Venice, and a small garrison was stationed there.
Abandoned (around 1800), looted (19th century), bombed (World War I), collapsed, the castle was restored without opting for reconstruction, which is why there are metal structures allowing you to move around the ruins, especially to go from one level to another. Here’s a room that served as the living quarters for the Captain commanding the garrison.
You can even climb up to a glass terrace at the level of the former granary, offering a great view of the nearest massifs (Averau-Nuvolau, Sasso di Stria, Lagazuoi).
Below is a view of the castle from the entrance/exit; you can see the glass terrace and what remains of the north-side structures. It’s no surprise there were so many "restructurings" over time, nor that a large part of the castle collapsed.
I head back up to "Passo Falzarego"; I’ve planned a short hike for the second half of the afternoon.
Parking at the pass is paid (at least one large lot) or free on the roadside with a somewhat chaotic vehicle arrangement. I park 500 meters from the pass in the direction of Cortina. The paid parking operates with the day divided into two time slots (daytime, nighttime), with a flat rate for each slot (no hourly rate within a slot).
I planned to go to Valparola Pass and then to Lake Valparola. The route can be done by road, but this road is closed (construction) on the descent toward San Cassiano, after the lake. As a result, traffic is very light since it’s a dead end during the works. So, I’ll walk the outbound trip along the road and return via the trail that runs through the valley below the road.
The Lagazuoi seen from a different angle than the first photo of the day.
Afternoon is the best time to have the sun well-positioned when you’re at the foot of Lagazuoi.
80 meters of elevation gain over 2 km isn’t too difficult to reach Valparola Pass. Shortly after starting the descent, you arrive at an old fort (Great War Museum) and the small Lake Valparola.
Beyond the lake, there’s a refuge and, further on, the entire Varella massif, part of the Fanes group.
I return to Passo Falzarego via the "Sentiero Italia" (here, trail 424). It runs through the valley between Lagazuoi and Sass di Stria. It’s now in the shade, so it’s better to hike it a little earlier in the afternoon. You can see "Passo Falzarego" and, in the background, the rocky block of Averau dominating the scene.
That’s all I could identify when I took the photo. I’ll be spending the week in Cortina d’Ampezzo and doing four iconic hikes in the area. This lets me identify, in hindsight:
- In the far background, to the extreme left, the "Cinque Torri"
- In the center, way in the back, a jagged ridge, the "Croda da Lago" massif.
Back at Falzarego Pass, I return to Cortina d’Ampezzo. It’s the same road as on the way there, but in the opposite direction, so the landscapes look different. In the lower part of the descent, after Pocol, there’s a viewpoint by the road: a view of Cortina d’Ampezzo and the Cristallo massif, bathed in late-afternoon sun.
I decided last night to head to the "Tre Cime di Lavaredo" to start with THE hike in the Dolomites.
This hike starts from the Auronzo hut (2,330 meters), located at the end of an access road that begins in Misurina (1,750 meters). It’s extremely well-known and notorious for being overcrowded, regardless of its appeal in terms of mountain scenery. I was expecting a particular vibe, which started with the approach logistics. The access road has been toll-based for several years (with plenty of parking near the hut).
This year, it’s mandatory to book your vehicle’s passage online; the website assigns a time slot during which you must arrive at the toll barrier. The toll fee is set at 40 euro (no typo there).
I ruled out the toll road and opted for another solution: parking at the base of the climb and taking a shuttle round-trip to the Auronzo hut, based on info suggesting shuttles run every half-hour.
Another option is taking the bus round-trip from Cortina d’Ampezzo to the Auronzo hut. I didn’t look into this, so I don’t know the schedules or fares.
That was the situation when I left Cortina d’Ampezzo and took the road to "Passo Tre Croci." At the top of the pass, I headed down the east side, then took a left onto a road that quickly (about 2 km) leads to Lake Misurina.
Right away, I noticed that parking is paid everywhere in Misurina, and any space that might allow free parking is formally and/or physically blocked off (barriers, chains).
I headed toward the access road, at the base of which are the shuttle departure point and a large parking lot (for cars and RVs).
Along the way, an LED sign displayed "sold out" (referring to the access road). New arrivals wouldn’t rush to their smartphones to book a last-minute passage. Italians wouldn’t get the privilege of seeing this info in their own language, as the display stayed stuck on "sold out."
I arrived at the "parking-shuttle" area, where they’d just put up a barrier because the lot was full. About 100 people were queuing for a shuttle, and the attendant at a checkpoint made me turn around (they weren’t letting vehicles onto the toll road).
I went back to the nearest parking lot in Misurina, parked, and headed to the payment terminal. The accepted payment methods were coins and contactless bank cards. The daily rate (until 6 PM) was either 12 or 14 euro—I can’t remember which. Everything went wrong: I didn’t have enough coins, and my bank card doesn’t work contactless (a personal security choice). If I parked without paying for the full day, I was sure to get a fine. The day was ruined.
I left the area toward Dobbiaco, and—miracle!—a van pulled out of a small roadside spot (accessible since there was no chain), and I took its place. The neighbors in the next van were having breakfast in the sun; they’d been there for two days and hadn’t been bothered. The hike could finally begin.
I walked to the shuttle departure point (not far), where about 150 people were now in line (it was 9 AM). I decided to hike up to the Auronzo hut on foot.
The first stop was Lake Antorno, with the "Tre Cime" massif in the background. From here (and during all the open sections of the climb outside the forest), you can see the west peak (left) and the great peak (right), but not the small peak (further east).
A little higher up, the trail veers off the road and runs alongside a Dolomite group, the "Cadini di Misurina." I had a GPX track from Lake Antorno, but it wasn’t necessary—the signage was excellent.
Needles in the "Cadini di Misurina."
The trail crosses the access road, and you get closer to the hut, which is now visible. The two peaks mentioned (west and great) dominate the view (note the appearance of these south faces). The ascent trail was moderately busy: about ten people passing me or being passed by me during breaks.
About half an hour later, I reached the hut, but visibility was zero—a cloud rising from the Auronzo valley blocked everything. I waited fifteen minutes, but nothing changed, so I decided to start the loop around the three peaks. I could only see people within 10 meters of me, and there were plenty—it was a real procession on a road wide enough for 4x4s (which use it to supply the huts along the way).
The Santa Maria Ausiliatrice chapel and the "Piano di Lavaredo" were both in the clouds, so I didn’t get the classic photo of the three peaks from the "Piano di Lavaredo."
The cloud lifted all at once just before the Lavaredo hut, revealing the Monte Paterno massif in the background. The Tre Cime massif was still shrouded in clouds at that point.
Some of the procession participants turned back here.
I waited near the hut for the cloud covering the Tre Cime massif to clear. Gradually, visibility improved.
What you see in the photos above is the small peak ("Piccola Cima") and the secondary summits connected to it (Punta di Frida, Cima Piccolissima). From the Lavaredo hut, that’s the only peak visible.
I continued the loop around the three peaks, climbing to "Forcella Lavaredo," a pass to the right of the previous photo (you can see the trail leading up to it). The landscape changes completely here. You move from the south side (Veneto region) to the north side (Trentino Alto Adige or Süd Tyrol region), revealing the view north of the Tre Cime—and most importantly, you get the full lineup of the "Tre Cime di Lavaredo": Piccola Cima, Cima Grande (2,999 meters), and Cima Ovest.
The "pillars, obelisks, limestone pyramids" aspect defines this north side of the Tre Cime.
There was a real crowd at the pass; many visitors were hesitant, and some turned back. The procession toward the next hut on the classic route (Locatelli hut) thinned out, though we were still on a 4x4 road.
I chose to leave the classic route (and the procession) to take a trail marked on a plateau between the three peaks and the classic route. The picnic break
was along this trail, about fifteen minutes from the pass.
To the north, the Locatelli hut sits at the foot of a spur (Torre di Toblin), with the "Tre Scarperi" massif in the background.
To the northwest, the Dolomiti di Sesto group (which includes the Three Peaks) offers other summits: in the foreground, the isolated "Torre dei Scarperi"; further away, the southeast face in the shadow of a cloud, the "Croda dei Rondoi".
The entire circuit I’m covering today and all the mountains in the photos are part of Group 5 (Northern Dolomites), a UNESCO World Heritage site.
North of the plateau, two of the Three Peaks: Cima Grande and Cima Ovest.
I continue along this trail toward "Malga Langalm". Behind me lies the Monte Paterno massif, with its characteristic Dolomite formations.
As I advance across the plateau, the Three Peaks come into view just before reaching "Malga Langalm".
At "Malga Langalm", I reconnect with the classic route (longer and farther from the Three Peaks) coming from the Locatelli hut. Many people turned back at the hut, so the final stretch of the Three Peaks loop is much less crowded—though it’s still busy, it no longer feels like a procession.
The trail keeps climbing as it circles the peaks.
Continuing this way, you reach a spot where the "Tre Cime di Lavaredo" line up perfectly, with Cima Ovest in the foreground. It’s a bit like the counterpart to Forcella Lavaredo but on the west side of the massif.
After a stretch across scree, I quickly reach the pass (Forcella di Mezzo), which leads to the southern side. The trail descends gently back to the Auronzo hut. You arrive at the hut by skirting the parking lot, giving you a sense of its massive size. There’s even a spot where half a dozen 50-seat coaches park—tour operators bring entire busloads of visitors here!
I take a break to look down at the valley where the morning mist rose and enveloped everything.
It’s the Val Marzòn, at the end of which you can see Lake Santa Caterina and the town of Auronzo di Cadore.
All that’s left is to descend from the hut to Misurina. I take my time, glancing back now and then to admire the south face of Cima Grande (zoomed-in photo) and compare it to the north side.
Back at the car between 5:15 and 5:30 PM. Ascent to the hut: 2 hours (same for the descent). Loop around the "Tre Cime di Lavaredo": 4 hours. In terms of elevation: 2350–1750 = 600 meters of ascent to the Auronzo hut, and the same descent; 260 meters of ascent for the Three Peaks loop, and the same descent since it’s a circuit.
This is an exceptional, unforgettable hike. The conditions under which it can (or can’t) be done call for a few observations:
1 - The option I took (doing everything on foot from the valley) applies to only a tiny fraction of visitors or hikers. It’s negligible in terms of foot traffic. Plus, I only "chose" it "by default"—I didn’t want to wait for the 3rd or 4th shuttle (one every 30 minutes, a rhythm confirmed by hikers I met in the afternoon).
2 - The access managers (I think it’s the municipality of Auronzo di Cadore, but this needs verifying) may have been overwhelmed in the past, but they’re not anymore this year. They now almost fully control the number of people on-site. They decide how many cars and shuttles are allowed per day (and possibly, to some extent, how many buses come from Cortina or Dobbiaco).
They set prices to steer traffic. If you’re a group of 3 or more, driving up is the better deal (40 €). If you’re alone or a pair, parking at the bottom (12 or 14 €) and taking the shuttle (10 € per person) makes more sense.
At most, they might misjudge the average number of passengers per car or how many shuttles won’t be full (especially from late morning or early afternoon onward). Either way, they know and control the maximum number of people who can be at the "Tre Cime" site in a day.
3 - Given point 2, I think today’s crowds (mid-September, so quite late in the season) were similar to those in July or August: all car passes sold out, long lines for shuttles (unless the shuttle frequency was reduced compared to peak season). The turnout is massive—too massive for my taste.
4 - The principle of making mountain access paid through all sorts of tolls is really unpleasant (a mild way to put it).
5 - The prices, which are very high (another understatement), are worrying for the future. If the manager’s priority weren’t maximizing revenue, they could charge less. Since they control the flow (number of cars, shuttles), lower prices wouldn’t affect overcrowding. That’s clearly not their choice, so I fear prices will keep rising in the coming years as long as this hike "sells out."
This will be a transition day; the weather isn’t great for a full-day hike. It’s overcast in the morning, then there’s a solid hour of heavy rain (pouring down). Everything clears up around 10:30 AM, so I head out to visit Cortina d’Ampezzo.
Parking is paid almost everywhere; there’s only one free parking lot (via dello stadio) open, and of course, it’s not enough. A second free parking lot exists, but it’s being used to store construction equipment (preparations for the Olympic Games).
The sun comes back with a blue sky and pleasant temperature, so I stroll around the center and visit the modern art museum (I bought a ticket for all three museums in Cortina d’Ampezzo).
This museum features 20th-century Italian painters, a beautiful collection of paintings put together by a collector from Cortina who personally knew many of these artists. One work to remember: *La Zolfara* (*The Sulfur Mine*) by Renato Guttuso.
No photos—I forgot to bring my camera.
In the afternoon, I take a short hike near Castello di Botestagno, 5 km north of Cortina toward Dobbiaco. This medieval castle, or what little remains of it, sits above the confluence of two streams: *torrente Boite* (which flows toward Cortina) and *torrente Felizon*, a tributary of the former.
To get there, I take a small road to the left of the SS51 after the hamlet of Fiames; it leads to the information point of the *Parco delle Dolomiti d’Ampezzo*, where I park (free parking). A loop trail goes up to the top of the rock, the site of the former fortress.
The uphill trail stays close to the gorge carved by *torrente Felizon*. It goes as far as the old railway bridge over the stream and continues to the summit. There are still foundations, uncovered during recent excavations, but nothing above ground.
However, the view overlooks the stream’s gorge with the railway bridge mentioned above. The old railway line has been replaced by the Dobbiaco–Cortina d’Ampezzo bike path.
Toward Cortina, it’s the *torrente Boite* valley, with a powerful flow swollen by this morning’s rain.
The return takes a forest road that runs alongside the main road. About a hundred meters before the end of the loop, you cross *torrente Felizon* at the gorge’s exit.
This hike takes about 1.5 hours (from memory, very approximate since I didn’t take notes).
The elevation gain is 180 meters up and the same down (it’s a loop).
Afterward, I visit the paleontology museum in Cortina d’Ampezzo, born from the passion of an amateur (Rinaldo Zardini) and the incredible fossil wealth of the Dolomites.
Here’s a fossil piece of *(Neo) Megalodon*, a species that went extinct 3.5 million years ago (known as the largest shark to ever exist). But what part of the body is this? Mostly Megalodon teeth have been found, but while the shape is intriguing, the massive size of the pieces in this museum doesn’t match the size of teeth found elsewhere. So, is it a tooth, a vertebra, or part of the skull? I don’t know and couldn’t find anything online to clarify.
Back at the campsite with high spirits for the coming days (the weather forecast is perfect).
Looking at these photos, I regret not going to the Dolomites when I had the health for it! Now I can mostly do nearly flat terrain and downhill walks. In Switzerland, I know some amazing hikes near Interlaken—you take a train and then a cable car up to altitude, then hike back down on the trails. I’ll check if something like that exists in the Dolomites.
Hi Noëlle,
I’ve added the elevation gains (D+ and D-) for each hike (unless I forgot any).
I think it’s more precise than just saying how it *feels* (easy or hard).
In the Dolomites, there are ski lifts that run in the summer;
you’ll need to check if they serve hikes that might work for you.
The next hike (the "Cinque Torri" – the five towers) is accessible via a chairlift that takes you close to the site. Getting around the site itself, though, isn’t flat at all: the trails go up and down quite a bit.
It’s the start of a period of gorgeous weather: bright sunshine, warmth at altitude making it perfect for hiking in a T-shirt. I want to do three more well-known hikes around Cortina d’Ampezzo. Today, the "Cinque Torri" (the Five Towers).
I climb part of the Falzarego Pass until I reach a left-hand road that leads, after a few hundred meters, to a large free parking lot at the start of the "Cinque Torri" chairlift (you can’t miss it). We’re at the spot called "Bai de Dones." Since I’m here to hike, I skip the chairlift and take the classic clockwise route.
The ascent trail is trail 425; the path starts off fairly flat, then begins to climb until it meets a road (gravel or paved—I can’t remember which) leading to the "Cinque Torri" refuge. There are a few rare views of the "Tofana di Rozes" since the trail and then the road are set in the forest.
The trail leaves the road to turn right with a sign for "Trincee" (trenches). Shortly after, we reach the upper edge of the forest, and the climb continues through a trench.
I quickly arrive at the foot of a tower. I should say I’m at the foot of two of the five towers: "Torre Grande" and, in the foreground, "Torre Barancio."
From this point on, I’m in the "Cinque Torri" area. In theory, there are two trails: the "giro delle torri" (tower loop) and the "sentiero delle trincee" (trench trail), but it’s a maze of paths winding through a labyrinth of towers. I navigate by instinct to cross the area and pass at the foot of many towers (way more than five).
I’ll identify this tower a bit later.
Here’s the same view from another angle.
After crossing a good part of the area, I reach a spot where the name "Cinque Torri" (five towers) finally makes sense.
The identification, in hindsight (since it’s trickier on-site), can begin. On the left, "torre inglese," the English Tower. Then, moving to the right, two towers with flat tops—horizontal for the taller one, slanted for the shorter one: "torre quarta" alta and bassa. In the background, behind the shorter one, "torre Barancio." On the right, in the foreground, "torre romana," and in the background, partially visible, "torre grande." I’ll have to identify them without revisiting the photos later... when they’re actually five.
There are way more than five towers in the area: some aren’t named (or I didn’t find the names), while others "multiply," like "torre Barancio," which is made up of three connected towers.
The tower I mentioned identifying earlier (photos 4 and 5) is the English Tower.
You can also see the more or less distant massifs.
The Sorapiss (left) and the Antelao (right) are east of the Cortina valley.
The "Tofane" behind the English Tower. Tofana di Rozes and, in the background, Tofana di Mezzo.
I’m near the Scoiattoli refuge (at the top of the chairlift) and I’m going to take a closer look at the *Torre Grande*. I’m descending via a narrow path, then along the paved road I took this morning for part of the climb, down to the *Cinque Torri* refuge. I head back up the same way, observing the *Torre Grande* (photo taken near the refuge; on the right, *Torre Barancio*).
I walk around the *Torre Grande* until I reach the base of the tower on the west side.
I then wander around the site a bit; if you have some time to spare (which you will if you’ve set aside the whole day for this hike), you can find different angles for the same towers (here, *Torre Quarta* alta and bassa, to compare with the wider view above).
*Torre Quarta* alta and bassa again.
*Torre Quarta* alta, this time on its own.
And to wrap up this wander among the towers, *Torre Inglese* with the sun lighting up the west face.
In my photo selection, I didn’t focus on the World War I remnants. This spot was a lookout over the front line just a few kilometers away: on the Lagazuoi slope to the right (Austrians at the top, Italians at the bottom), near the Falzarego Pass, and on the Sass de Stria slope to the left. You’ll find plenty of structures here (firing positions, shelters, artillery platforms, etc.).
Here are the “Cinque Torri” again, photographed at the edge of the site. The identification I gave earlier should work for the photo below. “Inglese, quarta, barancio, romana, grande” from left to right.
Here they are, from farther away, at the top of the chairlift. “Inglese, quarta, romana, barancio, grande” from left to right.
At the start of the return path (trail 440), I have Monte Averau in front of me. But the trail doesn’t climb; it veers to the right, at the boundary between the grass and the scree. That’s where the descent begins.
I recommend this trail in the afternoon because the sun’s position gives ideal lighting on the “Cinque Torri” (that’s why I did the loop clockwise), and you get to enjoy it during the first half of the descent.
The descent continues through the forest to near the Falzarego road. You get a different view of Lagazuoi (on the left) and “Monte Falzarego” (on the right). Near this spot, you need to take trail 424 to return to Bai de Dones.
This is a hike that’s well worth the trip, especially for the multiple ways to move around among the towers. The moderate elevation gain (415 meters up, the same down) makes it an easy day hike and leaves time to explore the site.
I actually did more elevation gain than the 415 meters shown on the GPX track I had; detailed exploration of the site adds quite a bit more.
I’m continuing with the iconic hikes around Cortina d’Ampezzo, this time at Lake Sorapis.
I’m not taking the classic route from “Passo Tre Croci.” Since I’m prone to vertigo, I’ve read that this route isn’t recommended for people like me. That kind of info is always a bit iffy—I would’ve loved to see the vertigo-inducing section for myself to judge if it was too tough. But it’s too far from the start to scout it out.
So, I’m taking another path, said to be physically harder and much less crowded than the usual route.
From Cortina, I head up to “Passo Tre Croci,” descend the east side of the pass, leave the Misurina road, and take the SR48 toward Auronzo di Cadore. I stop 500 meters after 4 steep switchbacks, near a hotel called “Cristallo.”
Parking is possible along the roadside. The spot is called Valbona, I think—there’s a small road to the right that crosses the Ansiei stream after 50 meters, but you can’t take it because it’s blocked right after the bridge.
The hike starts in a bucolic setting between meadows and forest.
It’s flat, even slightly downhill, until a spot called Sopis, where the climb begins. Easy at first, it gets steep quickly and stays that way almost all the way to Lake Sorapis. This corresponds to a big rock face where you have to gain the elevation (waterfall, gorge). Even though this section is in the shade (mid-September), I’m sweating a lot: 550 meters of elevation gain in one go on a steep trail.
I met about ten people on the trail—everyone hiking at their own pace, except for two who were really poorly equipped and had set off without water!! They sounded Slavic and started asking if the lake was still far away.
At the lake, everything was as expected: the stunning setting, the water’s color, and the crowd. At a rough guess, there were quite a few people spread around the shore (hard to count), with a high concentration at the point where the trail reaches the lake—close to fifty, I’d say. Clearly, nine out of ten came via the classic trail, which must be really busy (though nothing like the “Tre Cime di Lavaredo”).
The spot also offers a view of the Tre Cime di Lavaredo (see my post from the day before yesterday)—well, two out of three: Cima Ovest (left) and Cima Grande (right).
I move a little to the left to get a higher view of the lake.
It should be possible to climb up the valley on the other side of the lake to get deeper into the Sorapis massif and closer to the glacier that gives the lake its turquoise color. I won’t be doing that, though.
The lake is dominated by a nearby peak called “the Finger of God.”
Now, I’m going to walk around the lake (clockwise). The first part climbs on poorly marked paths—you sometimes wonder if there’s even a trail.
The height above the water and the sun’s position make the lake’s color even more intense.
Walking around the lake, I come to a spot where an amazing peak lines up perfectly with it.
Wow! And after some research, this turns out to be Ra Zesta, also called La Cesta (2,768 meters), probably because of the shape of the rocky folds.
The highest point on the steep trail around the lake offers a panoramic view of it (it’s about 300 meters at its longest). You can also see where people tend to gather: the north shore, near where the trails arrive.
This is also the spot where you feel most like you’re under the “finger of God.” Behind this peak, you can make out the group where the highest point of the massif is: Monte Sorapis (3,205 meters).
The paths carved into this area let you descend back to the lake’s edge, in a quieter section on the southeast side (steep). It’s a decent spot for a picnic.
After the picnic, I finish crossing the steep passage (you have to climb up and then down again). The rest of the loop is flat and brings you back near the refuge and where the trails start.
I make it back to Valbona without any issues. The trail is steep, so you’ve got to be careful on the descent, but it’s way less exhausting than the climb. Elevation gain/loss for the hike: 550 meters up and down.
The weather’s great—warm—and since it’s not too late, I have time to visit the ethnographic museum once I’m back in Cortina d’Ampezzo.
With the weather still so nice, there must be stunning sunsets in the mountains. I’ll settle for photographing the Sorapis massif from the campsite (Cortina). It’s past 6:30 PM, and I think I could’ve waited a little longer.
Today, another hike among the most famous around Cortina d’Ampezzo: Croda da Lago. It’s a massif peaking at 2,715 meters, home to a lake very different from Lake Sorapis. I’ll be doing the loop clockwise for lighting reasons.
To get to the starting point, I take the same route as for "Passo Falzarego"; in the village of Pocol, I turn left toward "Passo Giau." After 4 km on this road, I park by the side of the road: the trail starts here (a spot called "Ponte di Rucurto").
Route: trail 437 to the Cason del Formin junction, trail 434 to Lake Federa and then to "forcella Ambrizzola," trail 435 to "forcella Formin" and back to the Cason del Formin junction, then trail 437 to return to the starting point.
The hike begins with an easy climb through the forest; past the Cason del Formin junction, after a good climb, you reach a viewpoint offering an expansive panorama.
I start with a recap of the day before yesterday, with a view of the "Cinque Torri." You get a view of the site from the east or southeast, with Torre Grande and Torre Barancio. The two refuges are also clearly visible: Rifugio Scoiattoli on the ridge at the top of the chairlift (on the hidden side), and Rifugio Cinque Torri below Torre Grande, accessible via the road coming from the right.
The "Tofane" (Tofana di Rozes and Tofana di Mezzo) dominate the area around Cortina d’Ampezzo.
The town of Cortina d’Ampezzo, as you can see, isn’t in a narrow valley but in a cheerful, relatively wide one, even though it’s overshadowed by peaks reaching 3,200 meters (the Tofane in the previous photo and the Cristallo massif here).
Zooming in, you can also spot the "Tre Cime di Lavaredo" (Cima Ovest and Cima Grande) in the distance but still easily identifiable; this viewpoint is the best I’ve found over the Cortina d’Ampezzo valley.
For many hikers, the goal is Lake Federa (Lago di Federa) and the nearby Rifugio Palmieri. The lake, with Becco di Mezzodì in the background, is one of the well-known spots around Cortina. I’ll continue the hike this afternoon by climbing to "forcella Ambrizzola," the pass visible to the right of Becco di Mezzodì.
For now, though, I’ll walk around the lake and have a picnic. Lake Federa offers a very different setting from Lake Sorapis: the atmosphere is much more pastoral. Aquatic vegetation is abundant near the shores (almost nonexistent at Lake Sorapis).
On the ascent to Forcella Ambrizzola, the trail is always in my field of vision, gradually climbing the flank of the Croda da Lago massif. At the pass (2,277 meters), I’m at the foot of the Becco di Mezzodi. The face toward the lake is north-facing and therefore almost never sees the sun (only a little at the summer solstice).
Since it’s a pass, the landscape opens up to other slopes and peaks. I spot the Marmolada again—the summit and the glacier, the glacial tongue located below the cable of the upper section of the cable car.
If I look back at the slope I climbed, I see the ascent path, the lake (way down to the right), and the highest point of the Croda da Lago massif, Cima Ambrizzola (2,715 meters).
From here on, I cross to the west side of the massif and begin the return trip, but the climb isn’t over yet because the trail heads toward a second pass (higher than Forcella Ambrizzola) called Forcella Formin (2,462 meters). Exceptional panorama: the first pass on the left is Forcella Rossa; Forcella Ambrizzola (where I came from) is farther away, in the rocky area at the foot of the Becco di Mezzodi.
Near the pass, there’s a plateau—a true inclined plane—with scraped limestone outcrops, a landscape very different from the usual spires in the Dolomites: this is the Formin plateau. In the distance, the Nuvolau, Averau, and Lagazuoi massifs.
The walls and characteristic spires of the Dolomites are very close in the Croda da Lago massif; they tower over the entire descent trail that remains to be covered, and this massif (Croda da Lago) is one of the most remarkable for this type of formation. Here’s a wall quite close to the summit.
I begin the descent into the Formin valley—a long, not very easy section through a chaos of boulders of all sizes created by rockfalls. You have to be careful not to lose the trail; luckily, the markings (paint on the rocks) are well done.
Throughout this descent, the sun shines on the ridge of the massif, which looks like real lacework. The light is perfect, and everything is seen with incredible clarity.
In the massif, north of Cima Ambrizzola (the highest point), there’s a whole alignment of needles stretching for several kilometers. The trail runs alongside this alignment, staying roughly at the bottom of the Formin valley.
Since the trail hasn’t yet entered the forest (you have to descend further to reach the forest level), I’m walking through rocky chaos (scree and larger boulders), with nothing but jagged walls above me.
The same kind of landscape continues when I enter the forest (larches) that occupies the lower part of the valley.
I meet up with the outbound route at the Cason del Formin junction. From there, it’s the return trip to the road. A magnificent hike and a perfect day to do it. Moderate foot traffic on the outbound route (heavy around the lake) and light on the return from forcella Ambrizzola (except for the final stretch after Cason del Formin—it was the time most people were heading back). It’s already September 19, which might explain that.
Elevation info: Ascent and descent are roughly 900 meters each. The passage under the Croda da Lago massif in the Formin valley is spectacular (photos above). I really want to emphasize that the ideal time is in the afternoon (or even the second half of the afternoon), with the sun—preferably. I had these perfect conditions.
A quick note on the Dolomites groups listed as UNESCO World Heritage sites.
There are 9 groups (which can vary greatly in size—some large, some small). I’ve explored 3 of them:
Group 2: Marmolada (Day 5)
Group 5: Northern Dolomites, one of the most extensive (Day 12 Tre Cime di Lavaredo and Day 15 Lake Sorapis)
Group 1: Pelmo Croda da Lago (Day 16 Croda da Lago)
The others are farther from Cortina d’Ampezzo.
The area around Cortina d’Ampezzo is packed with possibilities, each more interesting than the last. I deliberately didn’t try to be original in my choices because I wanted to do these well-known hikes.
If I’d stayed in Cortina longer, I would’ve continued the *Sentiero Italia* route for a few more stages from Pralongia (where I stopped), with a priority on the "Lagazuoi, forcella Travenanzes, and val Travenanzes" section.
I still have to prepare for my departure tomorrow morning.
Hi Marie,
I admit I have a soft spot for that last hike (Croda da Lago) because of the variety of landscapes—lake, pass, distant peaks, and the spires of the Croda da Lago massif. It’s on this hike that I took the most photos.
We’re really at the top of what you can find in terms of hiking here.
I’ll take your post as an opportunity to share a bit more about the turquoise color of Lake Sorapis (from the previous hike). I read that it’s caused by "glacial flour," tiny particles scraped from the rock by the Sorapis glacier (friction of the ice against the ground). These particles are carried into the lake in summer when higher temperatures cause significant glacial melt.
The lake has no outflow; its level fluctuates based on losses (evaporation, seepage) and inputs (snowmelt, glacial melt), which peak in spring and summer. I read that it drops noticeably in autumn when lower temperatures reduce and eventually stop the glacial melt.
All of this is temporary, though—the Sorapis glacier is small, and its lifespan is limited due to climate change.
Today, I’m leaving (a little) the Dolomites—or at least the Dolomites around Cortina d’Ampezzo. I’m also setting aside hiking for the rest of the trip. I’m heading to Belluno (Belluno is in the Dolomites) to spend two days in and around this city (the provincial capital of the Dolomites in Veneto).
But before I leave, and especially before the sun gets too high, I’m going to photograph Becco di Mezzodì (see yesterday) from the area near the campsite, a view at the very start of the morning.
Belluno sits on a spur near a bend in the Piave River. On this stretch of the Piave, the Dolomites rise up to 2,500 meters on the right bank, while the Prealps reach 1,600 meters on the left bank. So, it’s still mountainous here, even though Belluno itself is only 400 meters above sea level.
The campsite is in the Prealps near Monte Nevegal. Since it’s just a short drive, I’ll settle in, grab a bite, and head down to Belluno to explore the city in the afternoon.
To give you an idea of Belluno’s setting, here’s a shot of an outlying neighborhood with the Dolomites in the background (photo taken from a viewpoint in the city center).
You enter the historic city through the *Porta Dante* and immediately arrive at *Piazza Duomo*. On the north side of the square, the Palazzo dei Rettori (Palace of the Venetian Podestà) is a Renaissance building with an arched portico on the ground floor and a loggia on the upper levels. In my opinion, it’s the most beautiful building on the square—it was mostly built in the 16th century and now houses the prefecture. In the background to the right, the Torre Civica (Civic Tower) is older in origin but has undergone several partial reconstructions. Throughout this part of the city (*Piazza dei Martiri*, *Piazza Duomo*), it’s Association Day today, mainly for sports groups. There are lots of people—parents, kids, teens—getting information, and some are even trying out activities where possible (mini volleyball or basketball courts, for example).
Next, I wander through some of the oldest streets in the city. This is where Roman Belluno once stood.
This neighborhood, with its narrow streets, centers around *Piazza delle Erbe* (or *Piazza Mercato*—Market Square), where you’ll find the city’s oldest fountain: Fontana di San Lucano (1409). Almost the entire square is surrounded by arcades and palazzi from the 14th, 15th, and 16th centuries (Gothic and, especially, Renaissance styles). This one (possibly the former Mount of Piety) is decorated with the coats of arms of former Venetian podestà.
*Piazza Duomo* symbolizes political and religious power, while *Piazza Mercato* was the hub of business (artisans, merchants) during the Venetian period.
I head to the municipal museum, housed in an 18th-century palace: the beautifully restored Palazzo Fulcis. It’s spacious, with an engaging layout for this art museum, which opened in 2017 (after restoration work).
But before going in, the wall of the neighboring pharmacy (Farmacia Perale) features a medallion of Garibaldi—a patriotic touch for an old pharmacy, given the style of the building it’s in.
Some rooms, like this salon, reflect the 18th-century palace’s grandeur. A room with an alcove and another with double-height ceilings serve the same purpose.
The collections span the modern era (from the Renaissance onward), but I was particularly drawn to the 18th and 19th centuries.
The museum’s masterpiece is Sebastiano Ricci’s *The Fall of Phaeton* (1704), a striking painting that captures the sensation of falling (the void, the lack of a landing point). Many artists have tackled this myth.
A quick recap of the myth: Phaeton borrowed his father Helios’ (the Sun God) chariot, lost control, and flew too close to Earth, scorching it. To "stop the damage," Zeus struck him down with a thunderbolt.
From the 19th century, Ippolito Caffi (a native of Belluno, 1809–1866, and a patriot) was a renowned landscape painter—but not *just* a landscape painter. Here’s his *Snow in Venice* (1841).
Andrea Brustolon (1662–1732), also from Belluno, was a Baroque wood sculptor who created religious works and furniture for private clients (two distinct lines of work). Here’s a *Crucifixion*—not the one in the museum, but the one in the church of Santo Stefano, north of the city center. I preferred this one for its expressiveness.
Back at the campsite with weather that’s still glorious and temperatures high for an altitude of around 1,000 meters.
I’m dedicating this beautiful, warm day to the Piave River valley, downstream from Belluno. I head down to Belluno, cross to the right bank of the Piave, and take the road toward Sedico.
I visit my first example of a villa in Veneto—I’ll get to see other (much more famous) villas later in the trip. These villas have two parts: a patrician house, often a summer residence for a wealthy family, and a set of agricultural buildings for managing the estate. Both functions are integrated into a single architectural complex.
This is the Villa Patt de Manzoni in Sedico, built in the 19th century (architect Giuseppe Jappelli).
Here’s the façade of the “noble” section, with typical features: neoclassical style, a projecting section with giant pilasters, and a triangular pediment above.
N.B. I kept the text I wrote for my drive; it references the rest of the trip (which I’m not posting here) and Palladian villas. The architect of this villa was clearly inspired by Andrea Palladio.
Next, I head to the parish church. It’s Sunday, so I wait for Mass to end before going in. This 20th-century church, built in Romanesque style, houses a work by the Vecellio brothers. These painters are from the region—born in Pieve di Cadore in the Piave Valley upstream from Belluno. But who are they? The most famous is Tiziano (Titian), and his brother is Francesco.
A “Madonna and Child with Musical Angels” is the central panel of a damaged polyptych (all that remains of it).
Afterward, I make a detour into the Dolomites, specifically the Belluno Dolomites National Park (Dolomiti Bellunesi). Near Mis, a small dam created a narrow, elongated artificial lake in the “Valle del Mis” (the river’s name).
A little farther on, a picnic area (set up by the park) by the lake is perfect for lunch. On my way back, I drive to the end of the lake, where two curiosities await: the “Cadini del Brenton” and the “Cascata della Soffia.” But first, here’s what the Dolomites look like in this part of the range. We’re at about 400 meters in elevation, with peaks either just below or just above 2,000 meters, giving a totally different feel from the area around Cortina d’Ampezzo.
This part of the Dolomites is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site—Group 3: Pale di San Martino San Lucano - Dolomiti Bellunesi - Vette Feltrine. When you read that long name and look at the corresponding map, you realize this “group” is actually a patchwork of barely connected areas.
After lunch, I drive to the end of the lake and park. A 100-meter walk away, the “Cadini del Brenton” are a series of basins separated by small waterfalls, carved by the Brenton stream—what we call “giant’s kettles” in English. Entry is paid, but not for me since I’m too old. The welcome was very friendly.
A short walk away is a waterfall (Cascata della Soffia, named after the stream). You can access the upper level via a footbridge. There’s also a way to reach the base of the waterfall by navigating a narrow gorge—fun but a bit tricky (unless it’s been improved).
I backtrack (by car) to exit the "Valle del Mis"; I head downstream to find a bridge over the Piave River, then return toward Belluno on the left bank. A sprawling municipality, Borgo Valbelluna, occupies much of this left bank, grouping several villages where I make stops. First up is Lentiai, where the Vecellio family is remembered.
In the Church of Lentiai (Chiesa di Santa Maria Assunta), it wasn’t the Vecellio brothers who worked here, but Tiziano (Titian, one of the brothers), his workshop, and a cousin of Tiziano’s named Cesare.
Cesare Vecellio painted the 20 panels of the immense coffered ceiling in the central nave—scenes from the Virgin Mary’s life based on the Gospels.
At the far end of the nave, in the choir, you can see a large polyptych with white-framed panels: the Assumption Polyptych. While most of it was done by Titian’s workshop, the masters themselves painted certain panels—the Dead Christ (top) by Cesare, and an unidentified bishop by Titian. This altarpiece is tricky to photograph (due to the altar and reflections).
Next, I head to Mel, the most important of the villages making up Borgo Valbelluna, perched atop a hill overlooking the valley. At the center of the town, a large square surrounded by *palazzi* from different centuries of the Venetian period—quite surprising for a village (this isn’t a city).
The palazzo at the far right in the photo above has real grandeur—it’s the former Zorzi Counts’ palace (from the 16th century), now the "Palazzo della Magnifica Comunità di Mel," or in modern terms, the town hall (I couldn’t visit; it was closed when I passed by).
The wide shot of the square is taken from the church parvis, which sits at the highest point of the square. This church is neoclassical in style, built in the mid-18th century, and imposing without being bulky.
Back at the Nevegal campsite; the weather, still hot, clouds over by late afternoon with a stormy feel, hinting at a change ahead.
This journal entry wraps up my route through the Dolomites.
The other part of the trip (not yet published) covers:
- First, the strip of hills between the plain (to the south) and the Prealps (to the north), with forays into both. I traveled from Vittorio Veneto (east) to Marostica (west); I couldn’t find a precise name for this region, which spans multiple administrative provinces. A music festival held there billed itself as the "pedemontana" festival—I’ll use that term, translating it as "foothills," and I’d call this little area the Venetian foothills.
- Then, the city of Vicenza and its immediate surroundings.
The focus of this part of the trip is cultural, in contrast to the "hiking" focus of the Dolomites section.
I’ll add a post with some maps to help readers unfamiliar with the Venetian Dolomites get their bearings.
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I’d been wanting to discover Sulawesi for years. But then life happened—COVID, the cost of flight tickets, you name it. Long story short, years went by, but we finally set off as a family for a three-week trip in southern Sulawesi: Rammang Rammang, Rantepao, Sengkang, Bira, and Selayar.
I like to spend a good amount of time in the places I visit, giving myself the chance to really get to know the area and meet locals. So no island-hopping this time—just the south. But when I say "just," it’s not restrictive at all, given how rich this island is in landscapes, little encounters, and magical moments.
Wednesday 07/08 - Thursday 07/09:
We left Montpellier for what was supposed to be five flights, though we only took four to start, landing in Jakarta.
We picked up our luggage there to catch a flight to Makassar the next day. That’s the only way we could get an affordable ticket (702 €).
I won’t bore you with the flight details—there’s not much to say. We arrived at 7 PM and considered heading straight to Makassar that evening. But we opted for a recovery night before taking off again. Good thing we did, because my son’s suitcase was missing...
First contact with the locals was a bit stressful—a trip without your luggage isn’t exactly fun. But right away, a woman reassured us: the suitcase was just enjoying some extra time in Singapore. Maybe it was doing some last-minute shopping. Anyway, nothing serious—it was supposed to arrive at 9 AM the next day. That gave us some breathing room since our flight wasn’t until noon.
So off we went to our hotel (Days Hotel & Suites) near the airport. It was cheap (40 € for three rooms—my kids are older and need their space), but it wasn’t worth much more. The place had definitely seen better days. But no big deal—we were only there for the night, and... we got to watch France beat Morocco in the World Cup live at 3 AM. That’s what really mattered!
Friday 07/10: In search of the lost suitcase
First challenge of the morning: finding our missing suitcase. They sent us to the airport basement, to the staff entrance. We were greeted with smiles, and an airport employee led me through the underground corridors back to the baggage claim. Right on time at 9 AM, the suitcase arrived, just like they’d promised. We were finally complete!
Off we went to change terminals, grab a well-deserved meal, and board our fifth flight to Makassar.
Little side note: I struggled for a while trying to book domestic flights directly on the airlines’ websites with no luck. Without meaning to advertise (though I guess I am a little), I realized it’d be easier to use sites like tiket.com or Traveloka. That turned out to be a great choice—I even ended up booking hotels through them later in the trip.
12:40 PM: We were on our way to Makassar. First good news: we were the only tourists. Well, the only European tourists on the flight, anyway.
No, you’re not dreaming—the bag is full of... potato chip packets.
To each their own souvenirs, I guess...
When we arrived in Makassar, a driver was waiting to take us straight to Rammang Rammang: 250,000 IDR (12 €) to our guesthouse (Rammang Rammang House). Forget about meeting people on the bus—we were headed straight to the first stop of our trip, and it was already stunning.
My kids’ guesthouse:
Ours:
View of the little lake:
But not everything is straightforward around here.
I wanted to get a local SIM card for internet and calls. I found them expensive at Jakarta’s airport (20 € for 20 GB), so I decided to wait. Well, no luck in Rammang Rammang either. You can’t just buy one from the local shop—you need a Telkomsat store (they have the best coverage). So we’d have to wait for Rantepao to get Wi-Fi... When I say "local shop," I mean the little shack around the corner. No big deal—we’d find one easily in Rantepao for 5 € and 25 GB. So there we were, offline, just the four of us enjoying the amazing view.
Saturday 07/11: Rammang Rammang
We woke up early to the sound of wedding music blasting through the village (everyone’s invited!). Off we went to explore the area.
A little walking, a little boat ride (shared with a French tourist and a Polish one—yes, there *are* tourists here, just not many; 750,000 IDR for up to 8 people) through a lovely canal, and we discovered the karst site. It was peaceful and beautiful.
The river:
The karst site:
It was winter, a winter with beautiful weather,
A season that only exists in the southwest of America,
I remember very well what I told you that morning
A month ago... A century ago, an eternity ago...
We’ll go... wherever you want, whenever you want...
Well, yeah, back from our adventure in our enchanting American West just a month ago, we’re already taking a bite out of one of its lesser-known competitors. "Flo, if you had to pick just one reason to justify your love for the U.S., what would it be?" The greasy, dripping burgers? No, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by saying it’d be the wide-open spaces... And that’s exactly what our new quest is taking us to—a land on the other side of the globe where the horizon also seems endless, where silence tastes like salty wind and sand, where freedom is measured in kilometers of desert tracks, where the GPS is mostly there to confirm you’re lost in the middle of nowhere... Add to that magic formula the fact that you’ll see more zebras, giraffes, wildebeest, and elephants than people per square kilometer, and you can imagine us setting foot in Southern Africa for the first time, more precisely at the small airport in Windhoek, capital of... of...? Brush up on your geography, damn it! We’re landing in Namibia!!!
To be honest, Namibian landscapes have been flirting with me for ages. So how did I resist this island of temptation for so long? First, the budget. Let’s just say that for the same amount of effort (and kidneys), the bank lets you choose two other adventures almost anywhere else on the planet. Then there were my girls. Yeah, back then, they were too little to dose up on Malarone, the only malaria remedy at the time... Long story short, ten years later, all the planets have aligned. First, I won the Euromillions! Well, almost... Let’s just say my girls are now old enough... not to take Malarone, but to stop following me on all my adventures! Jackpot! "Flo, how about a little two-person caprice, just the two of us, tackling the Namibian tracks?"
As we landed on the runway, first wow effect: The horizon is immense. It’s flat as can be, incredibly flat... So much flat space! Did I mention it was flat?... Looking into the distance, it feels like your gaze could circle the Earth without hitting a single obstacle—until you end up staring at your own backside. "Oh, what a nice view!" Well, it’s the first time I’ve seen my butt from this angle! Touching moment... Sorry, I’m rambling—must be the exhaustion from the three-flight marathon we just powered through via Ethiopia and South Africa... And yet, no time to philosophize about my anatomy. As usual, we want to rack up our first kilometers to be front and center at dawn tomorrow. After wrapping up the tedious Namibian immigration formalities and meeting the 4x4 that’ll be our companion day and night for the next fifteen days, we’re off! We’re not exactly fresh, but we’re ready to tackle the next five hundred kilometers in night mode, cruise control set due south! Just outside Windhoek, the local wildlife—a jackal—welcomes us with a smile: "Welcome to Namibia!" That’s what it said! Honest... Okay, first endless straight road, first flaming sunset, first corrugated dirt track, first Milky Way with zero light pollution... You get it—it’s definitely the day of firsts... First night camping, too, in the big trunk of our Toyota Fortuner parked by the side of the track... The real adventure, the kind that smells under the arms, can finally begin...
I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).
So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!
We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice.
For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.
We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.
Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).
Day 1 – Paris to Lima
Foreword
I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.
Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).
Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.
As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.
Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.
Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
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.
When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”
This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...
Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.
Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!
La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.
Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.
Some practical info:
- The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side.
- We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €.
- The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen.
- Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day.
- Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.
Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!
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
Hi everyone, I’m Patrick, 67 years old, a seasoned traveler (already 22 trips outside Europe).
In autumn 2025, I took my first 3-week trip to Japan, with stops in Tokyo, Kamakura, Matsumoto, Kamikochi, Takayama, Kanazawa, Kyoto, Nara, Osaka, Koyasan, Tokyo again, and Nikko.
I wanted to go back in May 2026 and explore some lesser-known places to complement my first trip.
Last year, there were four of us traveling together to discover Japan (a fairly classic itinerary). This time, I’ll be traveling solo for part of the trip and with a couple of French friends for the rest.
The weather was gorgeous in May, averaging around 25°C, with two very hot days in Kyoto and only two rainy days.
As usual, I organized everything myself, gathering plenty of information from various sites, including this one.
Transportation:
An ICOCA card is essential.
I got a 5-day Kansai-Hiroshima pass because I took the shinkansen between Hiroshima and Osaka three times, and it paid for itself quickly.
Accommodations:
Mostly through Booking. No issues at all. Average cost was 46 € per night.
Meals:
For breakfast, I alternated between buying food at a konbini to eat in my room or on the train and grabbing something at local cafés.
For lunch and dinner, I tried to vary my meals as much as possible—lots of sashimi, sushi, and ramen.
Okonomiyaki in Osaka and Hiroshima.
Oysters in every form (raw, grilled, fried) in Onomichi and Hiroshima.
A variety of seafood (shrimp, shellfish) in Hiroshima and Matsumoto.
Fish whose names often escaped me, but notably mackerel and eel (unagi).
Tempura and gyoza.
Chicken skewers (yakitori) and one teppanyaki meal.
One omakase meal (9 different dishes).
In the end, not much meat aside from a few yakitori skewers. No splurges on super expensive wagyu or Kobe beef.
Average dinner cost: 4,800 yen, drinks included.
The Itinerary:
Day 1: Departure from Brussels
Day 2: Arrival in Osaka
Day 3: To Himeji, then Kurashiki
Day 4: To Fukuyama, then Tomo no Ura, then Onomichi
Day 5: Cycling the Shimanami Kaido
Day 6: To Takahara, then Hiroshima
Day 7: To Kyoto to attend the Aoi Matsuri parade
Day 8: To Miyajima
Day 9: Hiroshima, then Kyoto
Day 10: Southern Kyoto
Day 11: Northern Kyoto
Day 12: Final day in Kyoto, then to Nagatsugawa
Day 13: Start of the Nakasendo Trail (Magome to Tsumago)
Day 14: Second day of the trail (Kiso Fukushima)
Day 15: Third day of the trail (Narai), then Matsumoto
Day 16: To Mt. Fuji (Kawaguchiko)
Day 17: To Tokyo
Day 18: Excursion to Enoshima and Kamakura
Day 19: Flight home, with a 10-hour layover in Hong Kong
Day 20: Arrival in Brussels
I hesitated about writing this travel journal...
This summer, we only did the classics (the 3 northern parks and Zanzibar) and let a local agency take care of everything from start to finish.
No craziness, no risks, no sleeping under the stars, no self-drive, no venturing off the beaten path, no incidents, and not even any delays in the pre-planned itinerary...
But don’t think we were disappointed!
The whole family (there were 6 of us) came back with smiles and memories of great moments spent together.
So, if you're looking for a "classic" way to discover Tanzania, this is the place to be.
Our 2-week itinerary:
- Arusha (1 night upon arrival)
- Tarangire (1 night)
- Ngorongoro (2 nights in Karatu then Irmisigiyo)
- Serengeti (3 nights in Robanda, Togoro Plains, and Seronera)
- Zanzibar Stone Town (1 night)
- Zanzibar Matemwe (3 nights)
- Zanzibar Jambiani (3 nights)
Preamble:
Africa was calling to me, so a year ago, with our usual travel companions, we decided to return to the continent we love so much.
Where to go?
Uganda quickly caught our attention—wildlife we’re used to seeing, plus gorillas and the shoebill we missed in Zambia.
We got in touch with Paul, who’s been mentioned several times on the forum back in September, booked our flight tickets, secured the gorilla permits, and by early October, the most important things were done.
We still had plenty of time to hold our "prep meetings" for the final itinerary.
Three days before departure, I sprained my ankle (my weak spot, as you’ll recall from our Colombia trip).
I wasn’t in great spirits, but after a year of waiting, nothing was going to stop me.
We’d see how it goes!
Off we went for our new adventures
After as many weeks as I have fingers on my right hand, we're hitting the road again, fully recovered from our pharaonic adventure. Back in France to drop off our daughters (sorry, girls!), this time it's just the two of us, ready to be welcomed by a new destination. They say it offers one of the richest cultural heritages in the world for those willing to put in the effort. It's the land of the ancient Silk Road, where we'll follow a journey steeped in history and discoveries straight out of *One Thousand and One Nights*. A former Soviet bloc region independent only since 1991, we'll be walking in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Alexander the Great, Marco Polo...
Another fun fact about this country: it's strictly forbidden to import porn on your phone. True story. The same goes for painkillers! Unless it's about sodomy—though the two don’t seem connected, that’s just how it is. Don’t ask me why! Anyway, I’m getting off track. Here’s the big question: Where do you think we’ve just landed?... To give you a hint, the locals are known for being incredibly welcoming. No sooner said than done—our first taxi driver, proud to transport French travelers, refused to let us pay for the ride. Great vibes for these two weeks ahead. So, any guesses?
Uzbekistan!!!
Okay, Palermo—we know it. We go there to marvel at the architectural wonders born from the Arab-Norman-Byzantine-Gothic mix. And rightly so. We also go to treat our taste buds to all kinds of delights, both savory and sweet. Again, rightly so. We go to succumb to the charms of Palermo’s women, their sun-kissed skin glowing with golden highlights. Still, rightly so. And all while fantasizing about a mafia we’ll never actually see. Anyway.
But you’ll also find street art everywhere, even in the historic center. Sometimes, you just need to step a few meters away from the main tourist highways like Cassaro, Via Maqueda, or the main arteries of the Ballarò, Capo, or Vucciria markets to stumble upon some amazing murals. Duck into one or two slightly grimy alleys, weaving past trash and crumbling walls, and you’ll find real gems.
For example, just 50 meters south of the main artery of the Mercato del Capo, there’s a great spot with dozens of murals in a tiny neighborhood of run-down mini-houses. You’ll find plenty more south of the Mercato di Ballarò, in the Albergheria (the grittier side, not the one near Cassaro). There’s some in Ballarò itself too, but it’s hard to spot when the market’s in full swing with stalls everywhere. La Kalsa isn’t left out either, nor is Vucciria—just step away from the restaurant-packed streets.
Here are a few examples that really caught my eye.
(In the heart of Albergheria, on a street every visitor walks down—lovely message from an unidentified artist)
We landed in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, and headed straight to Kasane in Botswana to pick up our car.
Our vehicle is a 4x4 because in Zambia, it's practically impossible to use anything else, especially in the national parks. I’ve already had the pleasure of visiting South Luangwa National Park—it’s one of the reasons for this trip, the main one being to travel in Africa with one of my sons.
First stop: Livingstone on the banks of the Zambezi River. Along the way, we discovered a lovely restaurant at Socrates with a super-friendly owner (we’ll actually stop there again on our way back). We spent our first night in the rooftop tent after a stunning sunset, accompanied by the grunting of hippos in the river.
The next day, we set off early, heading to Kafue NP. In fact, we’ll always leave early—waking up between 5:00 and 5:30 AM and hitting the road an hour later. Kafue is a lesser-known park, mostly forested, and the animals are skittish because they’re not used to human presence. We crossed the park from south to north and came across various antelopes. Near Lake Itezhi-Tezhi, there are plains where wildlife is easier to spot.
After Kafue, we headed to South Luangwa. This journey requires stops in Mumbwa and Petauke. Two pleasant stops where we found lodges (a nice change from the rooftop tent) at affordable prices and met welcoming people.
For me, South Luangwa is Zambia’s most beautiful park—the river is stunning, the landscapes are gorgeous, and there’s a wide variety of wildlife, including, of course, big cats. A tip for those, like us, who aren’t with a guide: if you’re staying near the park for several days, don’t hesitate to do a "game drive" to scout out where the animals are so you can return the next day with your own vehicle. Of course, in the dry season, you’ll want to focus on waterholes to see the animals—and you’ll need a bit of luck too. The elephant population is growing, and we were lucky enough to see around sixty elephants crossing the Luangwa at dawn, spread across several groups. South Luangwa is the westernmost point of our trip, and we’re now heading east to Lower Zambezi.
Lower Zambezi is Zambia’s side of Mana Pools on the Zimbabwe side. We took a boat ride on the Zambezi to see elephants, hippos, crocodiles, and a multitude of birds living along the water and on the river’s islands. The sunset there is also magnificent.
To explore the park, we followed the waterways parallel to the Zambezi, mostly on the western side (see our route). Lower Zambezi is the last park we visit, and the final leg of our trip will be Victoria Falls.
Victoria Falls—or Mosi-Oa-Tunya ("The Smoke That Thunders")—are truly impressive, even during the dry season. We saw the falls from both countries: in Zambia for the overall view and the bridge that serves as the border, and in Zimbabwe to get as close as possible to the most spectacular parts of the falls.
This marks the end of our trip, which, despite a blown tire on the road, went off without any major issues. Zambia is a beautiful country that immerses you in wild, still-preserved nature.
From Southern Shikoku, between land and sea, to the blue waters of Miyakojima and finally Tokyo’s megacity
Hi everyone,
I have to admit, I really hesitated before deciding to write this travel journal... Writing one takes a lot of time and energy, and since this is my 4th trip, I wondered if it would actually interest anyone other than myself (both for the discovery and the writing). But after a few "Are you going to write a journal?" requests and especially the renewed pleasure from reading other travelers’ travel journals about Japan or elsewhere on this forum or elsewhere, I’ve decided to share this 4th installment in the Land of the Rising Sun here.
The itinerary:
27 full days, from late May to late June 2025, right in the middle of the rainy season, including:
-->13 days in Shikoku, from Kochi (Kochi Prefecture) to Matsuyama (Ehime Prefecture)
-->7 days in Miyakojima (Okinawa Prefecture)
-->7 days in Tokyo
The trip was decided on fairly last-minute this year, as usual.
I regularly check flight prices to track fluctuations for this destination, even without concrete plans. Finding a slightly cheaper direct flight (900 €) than what I’d seen in previous months (around 1,200–1,400 € on average) for a Paris-Tokyo route with Japanese airline ANA was too tempting to resist the urge to return to this enchanting country. After long hesitations between exploring the San’in region (Matsue, Tottori, Yamaguchi) and southern Shikoku, the decision was made—I took the plunge! The tickets are booked: Paris to Kochi with a layover in Tokyo, all with ANA, the airline I’d been dreaming of... for 1,120 € per person. Okay, it’s not cheap, but it’s still better than in 2023.
We leave in 2 weeks!! Now it’s just a matter of getting everything ready!
Intense work ahead in these 2 weeks to:
finalize a more precise itinerary and reach an agreement—yep, because even though we both love Japan, our preferences differ slightly, and we have to choose between exploring new places or taking time to revisit beloved spots...
decide how much time to spend in each selected area without rushing while still exploring
research places that might interest us and watch videos about Japan
book accommodations: yes, it’s possible to do this on the spot as we go, but last year, we noticed that last-minute options were pretty expensive, so we’re booking ahead—even if it means keeping a few options open while we decide or see if better deals pop up later
reserve rental cars
order yen
check the weather regularly and wonder if choosing the *tsuyu* (rainy season) was really a good idea—and whether we’ll be stuck in non-stop rain???
What a tough job, right? Traveling to Japan for a month—such a hard life!
Despite this being my 4th trip, the excitement is just as intense as the first time.
The only small downside is that when we booked the flight tickets, there were only a few seats left, so we’re only sitting together on the international return flight. Plus, on the outbound flight, we’ve got the middle seats.
Another lingering question: what French-language films will be available? According to the internet, the selection seems limited.
Oh well, these are just minor details—it’s almost time to fly!
PS: I’ll be posting slowly and irregularly... so for those interested, be patient or maybe set an alert...
Before Our Departure
Preparing for this trip started 9 months before our departure in June. For those planning a similar itinerary, it’s important to book accommodations well in advance, especially in the Okavango and Savuti campsites—otherwise, you might not find any availability.
Introduction
After visiting Zambia three years ago and Namibia and western Botswana a year and a half ago, this year we chose Zimbabwe (Hwange NP) and the northern half of Botswana.
Our flight from Paris was to Victoria Falls with Ethiopian Airlines, with a layover in Addis Ababa. We rented a 4x4 from Bushlore in Kasane, complete with two rooftop tents since there are four of us on this adventure. Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4 and, most importantly, gave us a rundown of the vehicle and its equipment. Pay close attention to what they tell you—it could be crucial if something goes wrong, as it did for us during the trip.
Our Itinerary
We arrived on June 12th at noon. At Victoria Falls Airport, we got our double-entry visa right away—I’d already pre-booked it online on the site https://www.evisa.gov.zw/.
Since our vehicle was in Botswana, we had to cross the border from Victoria Falls into Botswana for the first time.
The next morning, Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4. After completing the formalities, we headed toward Zimbabwe and the town of Victoria Falls.
We woke up early the next morning to be at Victoria Falls at sunrise. The scenery was stunning, but since it was the start of the dry season, the Zambezi was still high, so the falls had a strong flow. This made it hard to fully appreciate their beauty.
In the early afternoon, we left for Hwange NP, where we stayed for 4 days. Two days at Gwango campsite near Dete, followed by two days at Robins Camp. We expected to see more animals at Robins, but that wasn’t the case. In Hwange, we didn’t spot any predators, but we did see plenty of mammals (buffalo, elephants, giraffes, zebras, and antelopes).
After a few days in Zimbabwe, we crossed back into Botswana at Pandamatenga. We stopped at Nata Lodge for a good night’s rest—driving on the dirt roads is exhausting.
We left Nata and headed toward Nxai Pan. The road was sandy but manageable. We made a small detour to admire some beautiful baobabs at "Baines Baobabs." Then we continued to our campsite, Nxai Pan South Camp. Keep in mind that many campsites in Botswana aren’t fenced (except for the shower/toilet areas), so animals can roam freely within the camp. Take precautions, especially after dark.
After our stop in Nxai Pan, we headed to Maun. We decided to break our journey in Maun before heading to Moremi and the Okavango Delta for three reasons: first, we needed to stock up on supplies and fuel for the next 5 days; second, our fridge had broken (luckily, Bushlore has a branch in Maun); and third, the drive from Nxai to our camp in Xakanaxa in the delta would’ve taken too long. I always avoid driving after dark.
We arrived at our Xakanaxa camp on June 21st in the early afternoon. Not wanting to waste time, we booked a boat ride on the Okavango Delta, leaving at 4:00 PM for a 2-hour sunset cruise. For those interested, to the right of the Xakanaxa X1 site, there’s a sign for boat rides. The organizer is very professional and offers prices that are nothing like those of the lodges.
It was a beautiful ride through the delta with a stunning sunset. Being on a boat is much more relaxing than driving on the dirt roads. That didn’t stop us from doing self-drive safaris the next morning and late afternoon, though.
Then came the time to leave the delta and head toward Savuti, a much drier region. And that’s when the toughest part of our trip began. First, we decided to go up via Khwai. The rainy season was over, but the area was still marshy. We had to cross a few small water patches, testing the depth to make sure we could get through. Luckily, a sign on the road pointed us toward a drier route. We reached Khwai without any issues, but then we made a major mistake. Instead of taking the main track toward Mababe Gate to reach Savuti Camp, we took a straight path north and then a right turn to get to our camp. Bad call—we got stuck in the sand, with one rear wheel buried halfway and a front wheel off the ground. We were genuinely scared we wouldn’t get out, especially since we were on a deserted track, 20 kilometers from our destination, with night falling in two hours. This is where paying attention to the vehicle instructions really paid off—we had to use the jack to get out of the mess. The result: we arrived at Savuti campsite just before dark (Distance: 146.3 km, Duration: 9 hours, 56 minutes, and 3 seconds, Average speed: 14.7 km/h, tracked with Osmand). At reception, the staff couldn’t understand how we’d gotten there—we hadn’t passed through any of Savuti’s reserve entry gates.
The next morning, no one felt like driving, so we did a game drive with a guide. I don’t know if it was some kind of reward, but the outing was amazing. We saw three lions and, best of all, a pack of African wild dogs that we had time to admire and photograph. The next day, we did a short self-drive and found one of the lions from the day before drinking at a waterhole. That was the end of our Savuti adventure.
Now we’re heading to Kasane. We returned our vehicle and settled in for our last two nights there. The next morning, since we no longer had a car, we decided to do one last early-morning game drive in Chobe NP. It turned out great—we followed two brother lions and saw plenty of other mammals. The only downside of Chobe is the number of tourists, which was a change from the other parks we’d visited. That said, we’re tourists too, so...
In the evening, we took one last boat ride on the Chobe River to end on a high note with a beautiful sunset.
After a good night’s sleep and plenty of wonderful memories, landscapes, animals, and emotions, it was time to leave. We left early in the morning with the same taxi company as before to cross the border into Zimbabwe one last time and head to the airport, where we took off to return to France.
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?
This travel journal aims to help future travelers (well, I hope so!), since there’s so little information available about this remote archipelago. Big thanks to Lolodesiles and Ayis for answering my questions while I planned this trip!
Context
This is our fourth trip to Indonesia as a couple—after Java-Bali in 2011, Flores-Komodo in 2013, and Sulawesi in 2016—each time for three weeks. It’s also our tenth trip to Southeast Asia overall.
We’re traveling like we have in previous years: with a rough itinerary that often changes based on who we meet, tips from other travelers, how tired we are, or what we’re feeling in the moment. In the Moluccas, it’ll change constantly, mostly depending on transportation.
Our only accommodation booking: the first few nights in Ambon when we arrive.
Planned route (to be refined on the spot): Ambon - Banda Islands - Lease Islands - Ternate - Tidore - Halmahera (between Sofifi and Tobelo) - Morotai and the neighboring unnamed archipelago.
Flights: Lyon-Paris-Singapore on Air France (428 € round-trip), with good meals, champagne, and wine (we like our little comforts when going on vacation 😏). Then Singapore-Jakarta-Ambon on Air Asia and Garuda.
Return flight: Ternate-Jakarta-Singapore on Lion Air, with a 3-day stopover in Singapore before heading home.
Episode 1: Ambon to Banda
Our guesthouse, booked two days before departure, is 45 minutes from Ambon Airport, near Natsepa Beach (northeast of Leihitu). It’s a pretty average beach—quiet on weekdays but packed on Sundays (we saw the difference). It’s lined with warungs.
This rainy day helps us readjust to the atmosphere of this country we love so much.
Our “Solim Guesthouse” is a lovely house with a living/dining room and garden, costing 15 € per night for two, including a hearty breakfast.
Dinner is at Gaba Gaba, a great restaurant just a short walk away, right by the water, recommended by our host. Fun fact: it’s in the Lonely Planet, and it might be the only LP-listed spot in the Moluccas that actually matches the description (the others either don’t exist or have nothing to do with what’s advertised 😠).
For the next two days, the super-friendly owner lends us his scooter. We set off to explore the coastal villages in northern Leihitu (the western part of Ambon Island, which has a weird shape).
Laundry and trucks washed in the same stream.
Liang Beach, described as the island’s most beautiful, is almost gone (climate change or something else?), but the colors are magical.
We continue 25 km toward a snorkeling spot our host recommended, taking a gorgeous, deserted little road through tiny villages in clove plantations (oh, those unforgettable scents!), stunning coves, and dense forest.
We’re greeted dozens of times with “Hello Mister”—a daily routine in the Moluccas. Every time we stop, we pose for photos to be saved on locals’ smartphones. They don’t see tourists often.
We ask for directions to the snorkeling spot (not easy—we only know basic Indonesian like *Selamat pagi*, *siang*, *sore*, and other polite phrases). Not many people know where it is (especially since we never know which village we’re in), but we eventually reach a small village that seems to be the right place. 🙂
We ask a local to take us there by boat (it’s not reachable by land).
The spot is at most 100 meters long, but the coral is in good condition (apparently not dynamited by fishermen, unlike in other parts of this beautiful country where fishing methods are destructive and nature pays the price 😠). The fish are plentiful and diverse. It’s a great start before heading to Banda. We’re happy to have the place to ourselves… though we don’t yet realize we won’t see a single tourist for the rest of the trip!
After two days of rest, we head to Tulehu Port in the morning, aiming for the Banda Islands. We know the journey is often tricky: the Pelni ferry runs twice a month but doesn’t match our dates, the 10-seat Suzi Air plane is always full (you can’t book—you have to show up on Mondays and Fridays), and it’s often canceled due to weather. So we opt for the Tuesday speedboat (which also gets canceled if there are waves or wind), with the next one on Saturday.
We’re used to Indonesian ports—crowded, rusty boats, no English speakers—but we still feel lost. When I ask about the speedboat to Bandaneira, people gesture wildly, someone takes me to the “harbor office,” then tells me there’s no boat, others try to sell me tickets, and some just say, “No boat.”
Luckily, an English-speaking local approaches us and confirms the speedboat is broken. The next one will be Saturday *if* it’s fixed—otherwise, even later. 🤪 😠
We’re crushed. We came here for the Banda Islands… 🙁
We decide waiting five days for a maybe-boat isn’t an option, so we decide to head straight to North Moluccas, which was planned for later. We’re so disappointed we don’t even want to stay in the area. The Lease Islands don’t appeal to us despite what we’ve read, and Seram would deserve its own trip with its remote mountain tribes.
Huge disappointment—we’d been dreaming of Banda for months, with its incredible drop-offs like Bunaken, its islands covered in nutmeg trees, etc. I’d read that Banda is in the world’s top 5, alongside Bunaken (amazing—we went in 2016), Komodo (incredible—we went in 2013), Sipadan, and another spot I’ve forgotten.
We take a taxi back to Ambon (45 minutes) to a travel agency to buy plane tickets to Ternate. There’s a daily ATR72 flight at noon—perfect timing.
Ambon is the capital of South Moluccas (or Central, depending on who you ask!) with 300,000 people. The city doesn’t seem unpleasant, but we don’t stop.
On the plane, there are only about ten passengers for 72 seats. The flight attendants are stunning, as always with Wings Air—clearly, they’re hired for their looks. 😊
Stopover in Bacan—a runway in the middle of coconut trees serving a tiny town—then we fly over countless volcanoes, the last one towering over Ternate.
Bonjour,
De retour sur le forum - et première rédaction d'un espèce de carnet de retour de notre 4ème voyage en Indo.
Contexte : une trentaine de jours, en scooter et en duo, sur Florès (et une petite incursion dans l'archipel de Solor, plus précisément à Lembata (chut, faut pas trop en parler !!!), qui donne envie d'en faire beaucoup plus là bas malgré les infrastructures sporadiques), en partie dans des destinations déjà bien connues du forum (la classique Ruteng / Bajawa / Riung / Moni voir baie de Maumere) ... et qui ne parlera pas du PN de Komodo ou de Wae Rebo, puisque nous n'y sommes pas allés 🏴☠️.
Texte en anglais (issu d'une autre plateforme). Sans nul doute, des traducteurs intelligents ou pas marcheront à merveille en cas d'anglophobie 🤪.
Disponible à toute fin utile pour des détails ou infos.
Equippement : Yam' Nmax 155 ; 2x saccoches cavalières (25L) + sac de selle (30L) + saccoche tunnel (15L pour le matos photo) ; casques et vêtements d'enduro amenés depuis la France.
Itinéraire : boucle depuis Labuan bajo jusqu'à Pulau Lembata ; juillet-août 2026
Road conditions graded from A (excellent) to D (very bad, at least for a Scooter… a CRF/KLX or even honda ADV would do better on that)
D1 : Labuan Bajo – Reok via Ranggoe, Rego & Tagol (130km ; 5hrs). Section LBajo – Rego (90 km ; B) is quite good tarmac, despite a lot of elevation with many small valleys and passes. Rego – Tagol (10km ; D) is a stone road (not gravel), some ascents & very poor condition ; necessary to lower tyre pressure. Tagol – Reok port (22km, quality depends considerably from D to B). Reok port – Towncenter : B. Night @Iffah Homestay (100k for fan room, mandi attached, no breakfast), simple but clean. Notes : path to danau Sano Limbung was closed ; access to Tiwu Pai & Wae Kuli (waterfalls) not permitted in july 2026.
D2 : Reok – Riung via Pota (105km ; 3h-3h30). The road is very narrow in some part, thanks to the uncut bushes (lowering visibility hence extra caution as animals/people can suddenly appear in a turn…) but generally good condition except many eroded sections and some unpaved ones. Grade C/B. 2 nights @Mentos (285k for AC room)
D3 : Boat tour in Riung (booked directly with a captain, 800k for two for private boat incl. lunch and NP fees) + sunset from Watu Mitong Riung (should not be missed).
D4 : Riung – Muku Saki via Mbay (around 100km ; 3h30). Quality varies from A in the vicinity of Mbay to eroded sections (C) in secluded places. Night @Sao Paolo Homestay (250k for fan room with mandi, maybe overpriced but nice house and great food). Note : if you happen to pass by Mbay on Saturday, the market is well worth a stop (cheapest Ikat on the trip : you’ll be asked normal prices providing you’re OK in Bahasa…)
D5 : Muku Saki – Tanjung Kajuwulu (near Ndete) (90km, 3h). Many patholes, eroded (C). Night at Déjà Vu Homestay (220k for a matress on the floor & outside mandi/toilets ; I woud define this as a tourist trap – the quote we had for food was double priced too…)
D6 : Tanjung Kajuwulu – Waiterang (east of Maumere, 55km , 1h30). Pathholes till maumere, then All good (TransFlores), C/A. Night at Sunset Cottage (new concrete room, very serene place ; 270k for AC with bathroom ; much prefered Sunset over Lena House (more customers, more built up).
D7 : Waiterang – Larantuka via Boru and Eputobi (TransFlores ; grade A ; 115km / 2h40). Particularly liked the drink stalls (marked as Rest Area Eputobi) and the out of order aquatic park just before Larantuka (obyej wisata waiplatin). Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay, which is not advertising itself as Larantuka Beach Homestay as some contributor signals here and on goole maps review. Best breakfast of the trip (Cumi Cumi !!!) ; 275k for AC room with bathroom.
D8 : Local Boat (Kapal Kayu) from the main port to Lembata (Lewoleba). Departure 8am ; price 60k/head + 50k for the bike. Stop enroute on Adonara (where we did not stop due to fights between communities). Night @Elmany Homestay (275k for AC room with bathroom, fan room with shared bathroom also available). Whole afternoon at Pantai Hadakewa, fantastic place (good snorkeling, great views of Ile Api aka Gn Lewotolo). Road condition : A (did not expect the TransLembata to be that good…).
D9 : Loop around Ile Api (50km, 2hrs), anticlockwise. Stops enroute at Situs Tulang Paus (whale squeletton), pantai Jotona, pantai Wena (we expected to snorkel from there, but wind was very strong that day), situs Watu Nale, Selat Sonia. The western coast is far less interesting. Road conditions : bad (C) on the eastern side (up to Riangbeda), good (B/A) afterwards. Night @Elmany Homestay.
D10 : Lewoleba – Lamalera via the western and south coast (70km, 2h30). Good road (B) for roughly the first 55km (up to Tapobali), then eroded track for the last 15km (in some parts steep and dangerous) up to Lamalera (D/C). Notes : 1/ Kuma resort denied us the entry for some drink ; 2/Pantai Waijarang « complex » is abandonned but closed with fences ; you can still sneak in ; 3/ some reports advise to skip Bukit Cinta (foreigner entry fee) for Bukit Doa Watomiten (stations of the cross) ; well Bukit Cinta has also been abandonned (well spent money…sic) but remains opened with structures falling (quickly) appart. Night @Lamalera Inn (200k per head including meals ; very basic fan room + attached mandi). Planned 2 nights, spent only one, as it’s the only tenant I had difficulties with (only interested in money, initially stated crazy prices, starts loud music at 6am … and drinking moke at 8am…)
D11 : Trip to Wulandoni for the Barter Market (Saturday only). Bad road (C) along the coast. Had to report at the Kantor upon arrival, which quite surprisingly asked 100k per person (foreigner) to go inside the (outside) market. Other « local » tourists (a group from Jakarta) were not asked to pay. Well, since a market is a public space and not a zoo, we refused payment and enjoyed the activity from the kopi stall next to it. Returned then to Lamalera for the catches of the day, then to Lewoleba via the mountain road (45km, 2 hours). First 10km to Puor is in very bad condition and uphill (D/C). The remaining is on a newly constructed road (A). Note : Air Panas Sabutobo is abandonned and falling apart (again…) but there are still some water pipes along the river that you can enjoy (depending how lucky you are, just with the forest sounds as companion). Night @Elmany Homestay
D12 : Chill day alond the northern coast (Batu Payung, Pantai Hadakewa with lot of snorkeling, drove till Wailolong and backtracked to Pantai Lewolein for more snorkeling (nice canyons there !) and another fantastic sunset over Ile Api (see GMaps pictures)). Night @Elmany Homestay
D13 : Monday weekly market at Pada, southwest of Lewoleba. Renowned but honnestly dont plan any itinerary specifically for it, just an ordinary Kampung weekly market. Returned to Larantuka and Flores with the 12pm local boat (the same boat that leaves from Larantuka at 8am). Same prices as the first leg. Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay
D14 : Larantuka – Waiterang along the northern coast (100km, 3h) via Pantai Kawaliwu, Tewuk Lewokluok (trail is easy to find, very nice snorkelling in a lagoon), Pantai Lato (to my opinion the most beautiful beach on Flores and you’ll be the only visitor, as opposed to Pantai Koka) and Pantai Hia, until rejoining the TransFlores near Nebe. Grade C on the costal eroded road / track. 3 nights @Lena Guesthouse (booked ahead as it fills up quickly, but we prefered its neighbour Sunset Beach Guesthouse)
D15 : Snorkeling trip organised by Lena Guesthouse (200k per head excluding NP fees and lunch)). The drop-off near Pulau Babi is a very nice spot.
D16 : scooter day trip around the Egon Range (too lazy to hike it…), through nice Sikka villages (route : Watublapi, Umauta, Bola, pantai Doreng, Nakatoli, foot of Gn Egon, Air panas Blidit). The track from Natakoli to the foot of Gn Egon is very steep, damaged and wet (with moss) ; I would recommend not to attempt that in case of bad weather.
D17 : Waiterang – Moni (130km, 3h30, transflores grade A/B) via Pantai Koka (refused to pay the mafia entry fee…) and Jopu (some rumah Adat Lio). Stopped at Museum Bikon Blewut, south of Maumere. Very nice artefacts (especially wooden statues from Papuan, great ikat collection) although very disorganized and sadly non-visited (hence masterpieces fall into oblivion). 2 Nights @Liahz Lodge (150k for fan room, basic bathroom… but right next to Air Panas Liasembe (free, no closing time) !!!).
D18 : Sunrise from Kelimutu with a nice weather (stayed until 8.30am). I don’t know if the sunrise is really worth it (lot of people ascending and watching the sunrise – a lot but nothing compared to e.g. Gn Bromo), nearly everyone going down around 7am, then there is virtually nobody. Trip (20km one way, good road B) to Kampung Adat Nggela (Lio). Although the village is habited and mostly out of the beaten path, I have mixed fillings due to the fact that most ladies (some are pushy) try to sell you (bad) pieces of ikat.
D19 : Moni – Ende via Detusoko paddy fields, Kampung Adat Saga (Lio) and Puncak Ndona ; 75km 2h30. We really liked Saga (nice setting on the mountain, friendly villagers, no selling, mix between traditional and more modern houses in that lively village). Sunset from Bukit Raja, on the peninsula with a 360 view on Gn Iya, Gn Meja Kota Ende and the mountains behind. Note : at the end of the road (search for Gunung Meja Tourist Info Center), there is a (sand) track leading to the path. 1/ only intend the track if you have off road driving experience ; 2/ dont trust the walking time stated by Maps.me. Took us 45mins on a steady pace to reach the summit. Night @Hoja Homestay, 300k for a comfortable AC room with bathroom.
D20 : Ende – Bajawa, via Air Panas Mengeruda ; grade A, 120km, 3 hours. Note : don’t plan to short in Mengeruda (Soa), very easy to spend a half day there, especially if playing with local kids. Stay @Cinnamon GH, 250k for double with fan and hot shower (cheaper options with shared hot shower availlable).
D21 : First day in Bajawa : Watu Nari Wowo (Avatar Hill, sic…), Kampung Adat Ngada Tololela & Gurusina (very very friendly people, complementary views of Gn Inerie & Wolo Deru). Sunset from Puncak Manulalu (well… Heaven’s door Bar & Restaurant)
D22 : Second day in Bajawa : Kampung Adat Ngio (hardly visited, best view on Gn Inerie), Air Panas Malanage, Kampung Adat Bena (the most visited Ngada village (after Bela ?) in the area, we went there at the end of the afternoon to avoid tours, early morning would be fine too), and Gunung Wolobobo for a terrific sunset
D23 : returned to Gunung Wolobobo for sunrise with Gn Ebulobo in the distance (search for a track on the eastern slope, near the communication antenna). You can circuit the rim to the usual viewpoint (westside, sunset spot), the path is easy to find. Then took again the road to Aimere, visiting Kampung Adat Belaraghi enroute (the setting is maybe less rewarding than all the previous villages). 56km ; 1h30. The road to Belaraghi is fine, except the final part.
D24 : Aimere – Ruteng (105km, 3h30). Nice detour by the paddy fields of Wodo (southwest of Golo Loni) of Sunset from Golo Curu (nice encounters with locals). Night @Tange GH, 130k for room with outside (private) bathroom, no breakfast.
D25 : Surroundings of Ruteng (paddy fields north and east of ruteng ; Maps.me has funny tracks starting from Kenda), and the rather pleasant city itself (pasar, churches, lapangan). We finally skipped Liang Bua.
D26 : Ruteng - Labuan Bajo (130km, 3h30). No visits of the waterfalls close to the TransFlores (entry fee (with bule prices) + mandatory guide etc…). Sunset from Bukit Hercadi with very few locals (Bukit Sylvia & Bukit Amelia, just south, were packed). 2 nights @Wellamas Homestay, away from the harbour and its advantages/disadvantages. 230k for comfortable AC room with hot shower.
D27 : New road to Golo Mori Convention Center (another big money well spent…), with nice views on the strait separating Flores from Pulau Rinca. Some empty beaches (e.g. Pantai Pasir Pajang ; we were there on a weekday perhaps frequented by people from LBajo only). 30km (40 mins) one way, perhaps the fastest road of Flores…
D28 : Morning on the peninsula north of Labuan Bajo before taking a flight to Jakarta in the afternoon. On Google maps, the asphalt road only goes to Teras Langit ; it now (august 2026) continues to Puncak Basok and is still in progress towards the eastern part of the peninsula. On the way back, two other nice Bukit where you can enjoy nice views on the bay (and the resorts…) : Bukit Lontar & Bukit Beta. Note : we only found one public (and nice and quiet) beach in the area ; tagged as Sunset Point Beach on Gmaps. All the rest was closed by fences ; they are privately owned (although the Indonesian consitution grants the coastline as public space).
We're a family of five: one dad, one mom, and three kids aged 10, 15, and 18.
Before diving into each stop in more detail, here are a few general thoughts:
We wanted to sample a bit of everything Japan has to offer in terms of landscapes, accommodation, and transport. We were after walks, temples, restaurants, shopping, and some downtime—but no "all-inclusive experiences" or museums for this first visit.
Three medium-sized (60x42x25) canvas suitcases, plus a duffel bag and a few small backpacks. 23 kg in the hold on the way out, 60 kg on the way back. 36 kg of shopping, without even trying. I think this is the maximum suitcase size if you don’t want to stress on the Shinkansen: they fit easily in the overhead racks.
Round-trip with Cathay Pacific, layover in Hong Kong: no need to collect luggage in Hong Kong—we checked it in at departure and picked it up in Tokyo, and the same on the way back (checked in Osaka, picked up at our final destination). This let us explore Hong Kong without worrying about our bags. Food and entertainment were pretty good—meals included a little Häagen-Dazs on each flight, and the entertainment had way more Asian cinema than you’d find on a Western airline, which was a nice way to see how much weight Western culture carries in Asia.
The original plan was to fly directly from Ishigaki to Hong Kong, but due to Typhoon Dolphin, we had to cancel the Ishigaki leg. Cathay didn’t bat an eye about swapping the Ishigaki-HK flight for an Osaka-HK one, even though it was twice as long.
We were a bit too attached to the idea of ending the trip with some beach time and replaced Ishigaki with Shirahama. It was a mistake—we should’ve visited Hiroshima or spent a little more time in Tokyo instead.
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
Hello and welcome aboard this new travel journal!
We’re heading off to Ireland together—a country I’ve wanted to explore for a very long time.
The moment has finally arrived.
We’ll be traveling as a family—my wife, my husband, and our 7-year-old daughter.
Here’s our itinerary:
24/07: Flight from Marseille to Dublin, overnight in Dublin
25/07: Dublin, overnight in Dublin
26/07: Dublin, overnight in Dublin
27/07: Pick up rental car, drive to Dingle, overnight near Tralee on the peninsula
28/07: Visit the Ring of Kerry
29/07: Adare, Bunratty Castle, Galway, overnight in Outheragh, near Galway
30/07: Cliffs of Moher, overnight in Outheragh
31/07: Connemara, overnight in Outheragh
01/08: Drive to Sligo via Westport and Downpatrick Head, overnight in Sligo
02/08: Slieve League, Silver Strand Beach, Glencolmcille, overnight in Sligo
03/08: Drive to Derry via Glenveagh National Park, overnight in Derry
04/08: Giant’s Causeway, Dunluce Castle, Portrush, Derry, overnight in Derry
05/08: Drive to Belfast, visit Belfast, overnight in Lisburn (Belfast suburbs)
06/08: Game of Thrones filming locations: Dark Hedges, Carrick-a-Rede, Ballintoy, etc., overnight in Lisburn
07/08: Drive to the Wicklow Mountains, visit Wicklow Mountains National Park, overnight in Blessington
08/08: Drive back to Dublin and return to Marseille.
Cost breakdown:
Flights:
Outbound flights with KLM via Amsterdam for 3: 175 € + 40,000 Flying Blue miles (so essentially a free ticket)
Return flight with Aer Lingus for 3: 489 €
Rental car:
10 days booked with Enterprise via Carigami: 443 € including zero-excess insurance.
Accommodation:
Dublin: 3 nights at Maldron Hotel New Cross: 394 €
Tralee: 2 nights in a caravan (Ocean Trail Oasis): 292 €
Outheragh: 3 nights Airbnb, family room with private bathroom: 430 €
Sligo: 2 nights at Clayton Hotel: 456 €
Derry: 2 nights at Belfray Inn: 255 €
Lisburn: 2 nights at Temple Golf Club: 232 €
Blessington: 1 night at Baltyboys Lodges B&B: 158 €
That brings our total to 3,325 € for three.
On the ground, visits, fuel, and food cost around 2,500 €.
So this was quite an expensive trip.
A few price examples:
1 liter of unleaded fuel: 1.89 €
3-day pass in Dublin: 18 €
1 scoop of ice cream: 5 to 6.5 €
Castle visit: 15 € per person
A coffee: 3-4 €
A glass of wine at a restaurant: 8-10 €
A half-pint of Guinness: 7-12 €
Now, here’s the day-by-day account of our adventure in Ireland:
Our decision is our decision. And it’s firm and final. Next winter, our plane will spread its great wings toward the island of Ceylon! "Wait a minute... Ceylon... Ceylon... that name rings a bell, but I can’t quite place it on the globe Grandma gave me for Christmas! Ceylon... Oh right, I’ve got it: Ceylon is the name of my tea!" Exactly. But the name on your pretty tea box is also the one used until 1972 for this island nation, a speck on the Indian Ocean at the southern tip of the Indian subcontinent: Sri Lanka!
For this new adventure, I’m exceptionally leaving my Flo behind, cowardly replaced by a double dose of testosterone. To write the book of this journey with me, I’m bringing along my brother, who’s used to this kind of thing, and... a guest star: My model of resilience. My dad! All aboard! Or rather, all aboard our tuk-tuk! Yes, you read that right: A real tuk-tuk, a little colorful rolling box that putters along at two miles an hour. The idea? Well, Sri Lanka and its winding roads overlooking the vastness of lush nature are tailor-made for this kind of vehicle. And since it’s one of only two countries in the world that allow foreigners to rent and drive these mini speedsters, we’ll be crisscrossing the island in our two-square-meter rolling box. Plus, adopting this mode of transport is a surefire way to connect directly with the locals, who’ll surely be curious to see a foreigner driving their iconic vehicle. Not to mention the... let’s say... spicy anecdotes it might generate. I mean, heading into a subtropical zone with my jet-black dad and his unpredictable digestive flora while deliberately choosing the tuk-tuk as our *only* means of transport? That’s the winning combo for an unforgettable adventure! "More seriously, Dad, Sullivan, I’m already loving the idea of living this adventure together, the three of us—brothers and father..."
So, does the intro to this new adventure get your salivary glands going? Yes? Too bad. Because unfortunately, the program handed out by the lady at the entrance has been slightly... let’s say *crumpled*. Some might even say "scrunched up and nearly tossed in the trash." First, six days ago, as the countdown echoed in us like a call to adventure, Cyclone Ditwah grabbed Sri Lanka, played with it like a rag doll, and left it battered on the ground. The toll is devastating: over a thousand dead, thousands of homes wiped out by relentless rains, roads and railways swallowed by massive mudslides. A country wounded once again, after the civil war, the 2004 tsunami, and the post-Covid economic crisis.
But as if this weather disaster wasn’t enough to shake our unbreakable adventurer spirit, fate decided to mess with us further by cutting our trio down to two. The victim? My brother, violently turned away because of a simple date on his passport that didn’t match the border officials’ expectations. Return to sender!
So now it’s just the two of us allowed to board the Qatar Airways Airbus A380 for this trip. If he were here, Denis Brognart would say, "And in the end, only one remains!" Except I know you’ll be with us, following our adventures! Right?
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 rental options kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!
The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan?
Not in the end.
The south or not the south?
Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or go with the flow?
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 about this destination (the guide has been updated since).
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You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek!
(Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
You’ll find here a post with some practical information.
And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.
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As a supplement, the route track.
Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...
Hello everyone, I’m happy to welcome you to this new travel journal.
We’re heading to Costa Rica together—a Central American destination that dreams are made of for many French travelers and attracts crowds from France.
It was the country’s wild nature and safety that convinced us to go, since we’re traveling with our 7-year-old little one.
We didn’t have much vacation time in February 2026 (only 12 days), so we optimized as much as possible.
Here’s the itinerary:
Wednesday, February 11: Flight from Marseille to San Jose via Paris and Atlanta
Thursday, February 12: Pick up the car, drive to Poas Volcano, visit La Paz Waterfall Gardens
Friday, February 13: Poas Volcano and drive to Manuel Antonio
Saturday, February 14: Manuel Antonio National Park
Sunday, February 15: Nauyaca Waterfall and Playa Linda
Monday, February 16: Drive to Monte Verde and Santa Elena Reserve
Tuesday, February 17: El Tigre Waterfall Reserve and Treetopia Park
Wednesday, February 18: Monte Verde Reserve with a guide and drive to La Fortuna
Thursday, February 19: Sloth guided tour, Observatory Lodge Park
Friday, February 20: Arenal Volcano National Park, Termalistas del Arenal hot springs, and night tour
Saturday, February 21: Return to San Jose, flight to Paris via Atlanta
Sunday, February 22: Arrival in Paris and flight to Marseille.
That gives us a solid 9 days in the country.
Budget breakdown:
Costa Rica is an expensive country, but no more so than France. However, almost all hikes and waterfalls are paid entry, which can really add up.
For meals, sodas (6–10 €) are cheaper than restaurants (10–20 € per dish).
Flights:
We chose Delta Airlines for the price: Marseille to San Jose was 740 € per person (modifiable, with checked baggage and seat selection included).
Other direct flights from Europe were priced between 1200 € and 1600 € with more restrictive conditions.
That’s 2220 € for the family.
Accommodations:
Alajuela, first night: 139 € (1 night) at Rodeo Estancia Boutique Hotel, with personalized airport pickup, transfer to the hotel, and a briefing from Vert Costa Rica agency the next day.
Poas: 66 € (1 night) at Cabañas Tierra Fértil (entire apartment).
Manuel Antonio: 394 € (3 nights) at La Palapa Ecolodge (hotel in the jungle).
Monte Verde: Chalet Aloha Monteverde Cloud Forest (2 bedrooms): 125 € (2 nights).
La Fortuna: Arenal Dream Garden (1 bedroom): 217 € (3 nights).
Total: 941 €.
Car rental:
I went through Vert Costa Rica agency (Vincent is a French expat who set up the agency in Costa Rica and makes great YouTube videos with useful tips).
I rented a 4x4 that was delivered to the hotel the day after arrival and returned at the airport before the flight. The total was 772 €, including full insurance (zero deductible), a child seat, and a phone with a Costa Rican SIM and WhatsApp. The rental company was Poas Rent a Car. The vehicle was well-maintained—no complaints.
Gas: 100 € for the whole trip (3 fill-ups).
Activities:
To get discounts, I bought the pass offered by Vincent, which paid for itself after just one activity. It cost me 30 € (promo since I rented the car through him).
Prices are for 3 people. I’ve added stars to rate them:
La Paz Waterfall Gardens ****: 112 €
Poas Volcano National Park *: 33 €
Manuel Antonio National Park ****: 35 €
Nauyaca Waterfall ***: 25 €
Santa Elena Reserve **: 45 €
El Tigre Waterfall Reserve ****: 141 € (with meal)
Treetopia (ziplining, suspension bridges) **: 250 €
Guided tour of Monte Verde Reserve ***: 113 €
Sloth guided tour (with breakfast) ***: 115 €
Arenal Observatory Lodge (with meal) ****: 102 €
Arenal Volcano National Park *: 34 €
Termalistas del Arenal ****: 20 €
Night tour ***: 116 €
Total: 1171 €.
Meals: 600 €
My favorite restaurants:
Poas: Food court Mercaditas in Fraijanes
Manuel Antonio (near La Palapa): La Langosta and also El Patio
Near Nauyaca Waterfall: Ricar2 el Avión
Between Manuel Antonio and Monte Verde: Soda D’Calle
Santa Elena: HG’s Food
Guadalupe (between Monte Verde and La Fortuna): Soda Río Piedras
Arenal Observatory Lodge restaurant
Arenal Oasis Ecolodge restaurant
Other expenses: 300 € (groceries for breakfast, drinks, ice cream, souvenirs, etc.)
Total overall: 6065 € (about 2020 € per person).
Now, here’s the day-by-day account of this beautiful trip.
In early March, full of carefree joy and happy to return to Morocco, we landed in Marrakech under the sun.
We spent just one night in Marrakech at the Hôtel Toulousain, as we did on our previous trip. And we booked our 3 nights for the end of our trip, the second half of March... Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! But we’re not there yet...
Our first goal is to reach Magdaz, a mountain village in the Tessaout Valley, sometimes called the lost valley.
We discovered the village of Magdaz on this forum, and we were charmed by the photos and comments from travelers who came before us.
The road is easy—it’s dry, and the tarmac takes us right to the village gates at over 2,000 meters above sea level.
We arrive in the afternoon and are left speechless by the beauty of the place. A jewel of Berber architecture! Perfectly restored granaries and kasbahs!
A young man from the village guides us on the visit and opens the doors to the terraces overlooking the village.
Several magnificent collective granaries have been beautifully restored. The warm colors of the stone capture the light wonderfully. It’s stunning!
We won’t find anything decent to stay overnight there, so we head back down a bit and settle in at the Assounfou guesthouse. Lovely welcome. The place is in excellent condition and very clean. It’s spacious, but we’re the only ones there.
First day full of promise!
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.
Hi everyone,
We (two adults, 74 and 70 years old) had already shared a travel journal about our first trip to the Philippines in February/March 2019 on this forum (https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=9377175;search_string=carnet%20philippines). We had visited Manila, the Banaue rice terraces, Sagada, the Visayas (Bohol, Siquijor, Dumaguette), and on our way back to Luzon, the Taal volcano before returning to France. Delighted by this trip, organized by the French-speaking agency Alizé, we decided to further explore this beautiful country, this time focusing on Coron and Palawan.
Before writing this journal, I should mention that these are personal comments and don’t reflect any differing opinions. Without any literary or photographic talent, I’ll stick to the facts and share a few details about the visits, hotels, and restaurants.
Preparations
We decided to return in mid-January 2025 and consulted three French-speaking tour operators to create a trip based on our wishes (places to visit, type of accommodation) and budget. Comparing three operators helped us weigh their advice and make our choices. Only our first operator respected the budget, a second came close, and the third proposed a slightly more upscale trip. In the end, we chose the agency from our first trip. Our discussions helped refine our itinerary, and when we reviewed it point by point, the document provided was perfect, full of great tips. The most debated point was a 3-day, 2-night cruise between Coron and Palawan. We were tempted but worried about being the only "older" travelers among younger people and feared two uncomfortable nights. Reassured by our tour operator, we finally opted for this "exploration." We’ll come back to that later.
Once the choice was made and dates set, we booked our international flights with Cathay Pacific for 750 € per person, which offers the best schedules (short layovers) at an acceptable price for flights arriving in Cebu. Our trip started on February 25 and returned to Paris on March 15.
International flights
The round-trip flights went smoothly. Cathay does the job well, without frills. The service quality seems to have slightly declined compared to our previous trips with them. Hong Kong Airport is huge but very practical.
Note that not all airlines serve Cebu.
Recommendation: Fill out your Philippine entry form within 72 hours before your flight. This can prevent issues with the airline (possible boarding refusal) and saves a lot of time upon arrival (see the Philippine embassy website).
Domestic flights
For our two domestic flights—Cebu to Coron and Puerto Princesa to Cebu—our tour operator chose Philippine Airlines and their propeller planes. No problems there.
Day 1:
We landed around 12 PM (local time) after 17 hours of travel. A driver was waiting for us at the airport exit and took us to our hotel, intentionally chosen near the airport (Mandaue, about 10 minutes away) to help us recover and get a good night’s sleep before our early morning domestic flight the next day. The Mayoo Hotel, reasonably priced, was perfect for this. Large, beautiful room in a new building—clean, comfortable, with a spa. We could relax by the pool on the 16th floor and enjoy the city view. The breakfast was exceptional, and the staff was smiling, attentive, and helpful. An ATM in the lobby allowed for withdrawals. However, the hotel is in a neighborhood with nothing to see or do. We dined at the Korean restaurant K-GOGI across from the hotel—a real attraction and a great discovery.
Day 2:
After a restful night, we were driven to the airport around 6:30 AM for an 8:10 AM flight from Cebu to Busuanga (Coron).
The flight was uneventful. Upon arrival, we paid 200 pesos per person for the Coron tourist fee before a 40-minute transfer to our hotel: Natura Resort, located outside the city in a secluded spot. The setting is stunning—a beautifully maintained tropical garden, a pleasant pool, and the option to book massages. The cottages are tropical-style with thatched roofs, simple and unpretentious.
The owner, who speaks French, told us that given the heat and our ages, climbing the 721 steps to the top of Mount Tapyas wasn’t necessary. She gave us a few rooftop recommendations to watch the sunset over Coron Bay. After a good swim in the pool and a meal at the resort’s pleasant restaurant, we hired a tricycle to go into town. We were told it costs 150 pesos one way, and depending on the return time, it could exceed 250 pesos. But our driver gave us his WhatsApp number and charged the same price regardless of the time. He just earned two days’ worth of customers.
He dropped us off at the port where bangkas (local boats) gather for day trips. It was the end of the day, so there was a rush. A few shops around the port sold waterproof bags for marine excursions at reasonable prices (compared to back home), after some bargaining. We wandered the town’s alleys looking for the Top Hotel, whose rooftop is famous. Indeed, it’s perfectly located to admire the sunset and enjoy a refreshing drink.
We dined nearby at a small Chinese restaurant, then just had to call our driver to head back.
The night wasn’t entirely restful—our hotel had a soundtrack of all the countryside animals, and it seemed they had no set bedtime! :
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!
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...
Hi everyone,
Way back when, before the internet and all that, there were Larousse encyclopedias, and in the proper names section, I came across a photo of Samarkand. Just the name made me dream. I kept it in the back of my mind for later, and last winter, I revisited the idea. Within a few weeks, I managed to plan our 16-day getaway. Oh, I didn’t do it all by myself—I used a travel agency to handle the flights, accommodations, transportation, and local guide. It was a custom trip for three people, tailored to what we wanted to do, what we wanted to see, within the time we’d chosen, at our own pace.
The main goal of the trip was to visit the three iconic cities of architectural art in Uzbekistan (just for the sheer beauty of it) and, very secondarily, to take a break with a short hike.
We left in early May, flying from Toulouse to Istanbul, then to Tashkent:
- One day in Tashkent, 2 nights,
- By car (6 hours) to the Fergana region: Margilan (silk and pottery), 2 nights, with a guide,
- Back to Tashkent, then a flight to Khiva, 2 nights, 1 day with a guide, 1 day on our own,
- Train to Bukhara (6 hours, sleeper cars), 3 nights, 1 day with a guide, 1 day on our own,
- Train to Samarkand, 2 nights, 1 day with a guide,
- By car to Tersak, 1 night with a local family, short hike, same guide,
- By car to Shakhrisabz (Tamerlane’s hometown), then back to Samarkand,
- Samarkand, 2 more nights,
- Train back to Tashkent, final night, and return home.
What I took away from this Silk Road trip:
- A completely safe country in May—don’t go later because of the heat,
- The warm welcome and easy connection with Uzbeks, a multicultural people,
- A constant puzzle with currency exchange (how much is that in euros? ) 1 € = 14,000 sums,
- Logistics handled by a local agency—top-notch,
- Delicious meals at a very reasonable price,
- Total awe in Khiva and Samarkand (palaces, mausoleums, mosques, madrasas),
- The length of the trip, which let us wander and take our time.
A few photos, but not too many—I don’t want to spoil the joy of discovery!
I return to Passo Falzarego via the "Sentiero Italia" (here, trail 424). It runs through the valley between Lagazuoi and Sass di Stria. It’s now in the shade, so it’s better to hike it a little earlier in the afternoon. You can see "Passo Falzarego" and, in the background, the rocky block of Averau dominating the scene.
Cesare Vecellio painted the 20 panels of the immense coffered ceiling in the central nave—scenes from the Virgin Mary’s life based on the Gospels.
The karst site:
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
(In the heart of Albergheria, on a street every visitor walks down—lovely message from an unidentified artist)
Laundry and trucks washed in the same stream.
We’re greeted dozens of times with “Hello Mister”—a daily routine in the Moluccas. Every time we stop, we pose for photos to be saved on locals’ smartphones. They don’t see tourists often.
Several magnificent collective granaries have been beautifully restored. The warm colors of the stone capture the light wonderfully. It’s stunning!
A little sneak peek?
