The title might be a bit long, but I hope it’s completely understandable!
When it comes to choosing your next trip, what tips the scales in favor of Eritrea over Ibiza?
Why pick Canada over French Polynesia?
The price?
A magazine or TV report, a travel journal, an Instagram ad?
Ease of travel?
Minimal time difference?
The country that has the most in common with all the trip participants?
Activities?
Relaxation?
The desire to push your limits?
A photo?
What else, I wonder...
Personally, I often prioritize simple destinations (no administrative hassles), where I’m not at risk (nothing extraordinary like getting kidnapped by Daesh or ending up in a jail cell because the current geopolitics aren’t favorable to my passport, etc.), and where I can drive.
Wide-open natural spaces are more my thing than urban anthills.
Finally, I try not to spend three days on a plane to reach my destination, and I aim for a maximum budget of 3500 € (for 3 weeks) in comfortable conditions—that means charming hotels, good meals, etc.
This catchy and somewhat mysterious title comes from several questions I’ve been asking myself.
VF has been back open for a reasonable number of weeks and months now.
The number of visitors overall matches past averages, but the number of members online in the last 24 hours seems relatively lower than what we used to see.
Yet, to my surprise, I’m seeing fewer travel journals, way fewer messages, and way fewer questions.
I don’t see many new registered users online, and I notice a number of members who are logged in but either aren’t participating or have stopped participating.
Something’s not adding up for me because, in my opinion, VF is still appealing, and I don’t see which other sites could really compete.
Was there a real break between pre- and post-Covid?
Does it just take more time for some people to discover the site or learn that it’s active again?
Do people now prefer quick consumption on sites like FB or others I’m not familiar with?
Where have the site’s old-timers gone, and what are they doing with their time now?
What’s really going on here?
My name’s Emilie, and my view of travel has changed. I used to travel just to tick off the "places and things to do/see" boxes. But lately, I’ve realized that encounters have become really important to me while traveling. In fact, the people I’ve met and what they’ve brought to my life are now my best travel memories. What do you think? Have you had a similar shift in perspective? Are you more interested in meeting people while traveling now?
To be totally honest, I’m training to become a travel planner (a trip organizer), and I was thinking of focusing on organizing trips that are more centered around encounters. So I’d love to know if this makes sense—if travelers are interested in this kind of experience. Just to be clear, I’m not selling anything; I just want to chat and hear your thoughts.
Hi there, I’ve been traveling for 18 years now, at least 6 months a year, and as the years go by, I actually enjoy coming back to France more and more—a feeling I struggled with at first. I mean, we always think the grass is greener elsewhere.
But in the end, I find meaning in that saying about how there’s no place like home. I still love traveling just as much, but now my trips are shorter, and I enjoy spending more time in our beautiful country, even though I don’t hesitate to criticize it.
How about you? How do you handle coming back from your travels?
It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.
A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question.
They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???
Not even a simple thank you!!!
From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕
Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????
Now that the curtain has fallen on the past year, it’s time to see what’s happening around here.
It seems pretty quiet, but I’ll read more in detail later.
First, I need to tell you all an anecdote.
My eldest little girl, in her third year of law school, was really scared she wouldn’t pass the year.
I told her:
“Trust yourself, you’ve worked so hard, and worst case, if you fail, you’ll just redo the year.”
“But I don’t think I’ll make it—they changed the rules, and if I mess up even one unit, I have to start all over.”
I knew her grades weren’t exactly stellar, and with what I was about to say, I wasn’t taking much of a risk.
“Here’s the deal, sweetheart: if you pass, I promise I’ll take you to India, just the two of us.”
I have to admit, India is a country I’ve talked about so much to all my grandchildren that in their minds, it’s become a magical, mythical place (hmm).
July had barely begun when my phone rang, her name flashing on the screen.
“Mamido, I did it!”
My promise came rushing back—oh no, oh no, oh no!
“Congratulations, sweetheart!”
A little shyly, she said:
“Is the India trip still on?”
And me, replying:
“Of course it is!”
And that’s that—a promise is a promise, or you risk losing that precious trust that keeps hearts warm and at peace.
We’re leaving in February. Only 8 days—yikes, the carbon footprint!
But we can’t miss her tutorials, or she’ll be kicked out.
Personally, that works just fine for me.
Going to India has become a challenge for me. It’s far, it’s exhausting, I sweat, I hate mosquitoes, the spices bother my mouth when I used to love them. There’s noise all the time—at night, the dogs bark nonstop, and we almost get run over. I’ll get lost in the streets because my sense of direction has vanished. I don’t like rice anymore. All that chaos and those cultural differences that once enchanted me now just overwhelm me.
But I promised.
The upside—and it’s a big one—Raman, the same driver I’ve had forever, will be at the airport with a sign with our names. We’ll stop at the same little shop for chai (or tea, plain and simple) with that aroma that intoxicates me, halfway through the trip.
It’ll be a tiny trip—staying with friends, I’ll show her a few places I love: Chidambaram, Mamallapuram, and the clinic where I worked. Then we’ll head back.
My little girl will go home to her parents.
As for me, I’ll leave right away for our Scottish island with Homme for our chilly winter.
How can you love a country so much you want to live there, then suddenly reject it, no longer able to appreciate what once made it special?
That’s the mystery of love, I guess.
I’ve visited the U.S. four times myself, including two long road trips. The last one was just this past August...
I won’t be going back. I already felt guilty last August, but recent policies have finally convinced me: the humiliation of Zelensky, authoritarian excesses, Gestapo-like methods for detaining people of foreign origin, the murder of innocent people (a mother shot dead), corruption, insane "tariffs," skyrocketing healthcare costs for Americans, the abduction of foreign figures to secure oil, the requirement to disclose social media accounts, and now... threats and blackmail to forcibly take Greenland—a region that belongs to Denmark and thus the European Union!
The reality is that simply posting this could get me denied entry to the U.S.!
In this context, I just can’t keep spending money there. I loved my trips, but there are so many other countries with stunning landscapes to explore.
So I get why you’d want to travel there. I did, and I loved it. But once a country no longer respects any of the values that made us love it, why go?
How can we even consider traveling to a country that threatens to take one of our territories by force?
My two bullfighting traditions when I'm back home in Camargue (France) and in Colombia (Caribbean) every time I return. 🤠
Details:
Bullfights (corridas) aren’t part of my two bullfighting traditions, but I respect those who attend them!!!
In these two ancestral bullfighting traditions—which aren’t bullfights—the Bulls and Toros aren’t killed or tortured, as some might think.
These are bull games where the animals return to their pastures afterward and only come back to the Arenas 2–3 times a year at most.
They spend 15 minutes in the ring for the Camarguais and 5 minutes for the Toros in the Colombian Corralejas.
They’re cared for and pampered. They’ll die of old age in miles of open fields.
The young people who face them are professionals, risking their lives to support their families and live their Passion for the Toro!!! 😄
https://youtu.be/yYKQer42HoQ
Colombian Corraleja in the link below (hope it works) 🤪
https://fb.watch/BMfmuCgQpG/
“Slow travel” is a concept that some tout as a philosophical revolution in travel. But on closer inspection, it’s nothing more than a marketing repackaging of an age-old practice.
This term is wrapped in an aura of intellectualism. It promises to reinvent the experience of travel by valuing slowness, contemplation, and cultural immersion.
The term “slow travel” claims to bring depth to travel, but it often relies on clichés.
Taking your time, meeting locals, avoiding quick visits—these practices have always existed and are nothing revolutionary.
Before the era of airplanes, high-speed trains, and express stays, traveling necessarily meant taking your time. Pilgrims, merchants, and explorers already practiced a form of “slow travel,” without hashtags or self-proclaimed spiritual guides.
Crossing lands on foot or by horse required total immersion in the landscapes, cultures, and unpredictability of the journey. Yet, no one attributed philosophical intentions to them: it was a necessity.
Slow travel, in its current version, may be less a philosophy than a reflection of the contradictions of an affluent class searching for meaning in a world they help overload.
So-called “slow” travel is presented as a privileged way to understand a culture, but this claim is debatable. A region never represents an entire country.
Immersing yourself in a community doesn’t guarantee a complete or more authentic understanding than any other way of traveling.
Slowness in itself doesn’t guarantee depth or ethics. You can immerse yourself in a place over a weekend, just as you can spend months in a country without grasping its subtleties.
By positioning itself as an antidote to “fast” tourism, slow travel fetishizes a temporality that only makes sense if it’s accompanied by real openness and an effort to integrate.
But this over-intellectualization often masks a desire to belong to a trend or a need to stand out socially.
Behind this posture sometimes lies a whim: the urge to reinvent one’s life elsewhere in an idealized form. But this quest for elsewhere remains fundamentally a way to escape or respond to unease, rather than a true commitment to the cultures visited.
When we talk about “encounters” while traveling, we often forget that these exchanges are facilitated by biased contexts. As a traveler, you’re seen as a temporary visitor, unattached, and that changes the dynamic.
Locals, whether curious or used to tourists, adopt a different stance than they would with a neighbor they see daily.
This interaction is also tinged with asymmetry: the traveler has the luxury of time and availability, while in daily life, personal concerns often take precedence over the desire to connect.
The flip side is that the openness displayed while traveling is often a facade. We boast about chatting with a fisherman or sharing a meal with a local family, but how many of these encounters lead to a real understanding of cultural differences or sincere reflection?
Once home, these moments become anecdotes, social trophies to show off, without fundamentally changing our relationship with others in our daily lives.
By imposing a definition, we push people to adapt their practices to fit an idealized model. This can lead to a paradoxical standardization: “slow travel” becomes a checklist of behaviors (meetings, immersion, slowness).
The “bobos” (bourgeois-bohemians), often in search of meaning in a world saturated with options, believe that giving a name to a practice grants it legitimacy or moral value. But this obsession with framing and theorizing travel only drains it of its spontaneity.
Someone who grew up at the crossroads of multiple cultures, on the other hand, doesn’t feel this need. For them, traveling isn’t a philosophical project but an intrinsic part of their life.
The very concept of “slow travel” can seem absurd: why glorify what’s simply natural?
Why try to turn into an ideology what should be a personal, intimate experience, free from semantic constraints?
Ultimately, this need for labeling, this frantic quest to name every gesture, reveals a society craving simplicity.
Travel, in its purest form, doesn’t need justification or slogans. It doesn’t need slowness or speed: it’s simply lived.
Perhaps the real challenge is to unlearn this Western habit of conceptualizing everything that should simply be felt.
For many, travel is a parenthesis, a temporary break from daily life. But if we reject this distinction between “home” and “elsewhere,” every human life becomes a continuous journey through varied environments.
From this perspective, “slow travel” loses all meaning, because living somewhere—whether for a week or five years—is part of the same experience of adaptation.
So, we ask the fans of marketing slogans: is travel a parenthesis or a journey?
“Slow travel” is often driven by a Western eco-bobo ideology, tinged with post-colonial guilt. This discourse promotes a supposedly virtuous way of traveling while forgetting that these practices remain a privilege.
Far from deconstructing power dynamics, it sometimes reinforces them by glorifying a different kind of consumption, still centered on comfort.
There’s also a condescending side to this rhetoric. By idealizing slowness, slow travel advocates imply that those who travel quickly or on a budget are less “authentic” in their approach.
Yet, isn’t that a form of contempt? Do those who leave for a well-deserved week after months of hard work deserve less consideration?
Concepts like “slow travel” or “sustainable tourism” seem hollow when reduced to marketing slogans or standardized behaviors. They confine travel to preconceived frameworks, stripping it of its spontaneous and unpredictable dimension.
Instead of categorizing, it would be more relevant to recognize the plurality of human experiences without trying to define them.
Slow travel doesn’t invent anything. It simply puts into words—and often slogans—what travel has always been for those who practice it with intention.
Maybe we should stop trying to theorize every movement and simply rediscover travel for what it is: a human experience, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, but always personal.
Hey hey,
A great way to meet locals! I got hooked on it over the years, and after a few women-only trips with an all-female agency (bad experiences with 5 to 10 chicks every time—many of them think they’re well-educated but actually stick their noses in everything 🤪), I’m heading out solo again soon. (Don’t ask me where—I rarely plan my trips and usually leave on a whim within days. Thinking of Canada in September, should be cool!)
Little tip for those who are nervous but still want to travel solo:
It’s all about attitude because everything shows on your face.
Sometimes approached by aggressive or just rowdy groups, it’s easy to spot the ringleader (it’s the one running his mouth 😏). And that’s who you need to target—use a tone that’ll leave him speechless (after that, you’ve won, and sometimes they even become friends). Not always, though! 😄
Hello fellow travel enthusiasts! 🌍
As a traveler and blogger, I’ve often been struck by the huge inequalities tied to freedom of movement. While some cross borders with ease, others face major obstacles due to their nationality, background, or the restrictive policies of certain countries.
On the occasion of International Human Rights Day, I wrote an article reflecting on this issue:
📖 Travelers' Rights: A Reflection on Freedom of Movement and Global Inequalities
In this article, I cover topics like:
Inequalities between passports ("strong" vs. "weak" passports).
The specific challenges faced by travelers from marginalized communities.
How to take action to promote more inclusive and equitable travel.
I’d love to hear your thoughts! 😊 Have you ever experienced these inequalities while traveling? How do you think we could raise more awareness about this issue?
Feel free to share your experiences or ask questions in this thread. I can’t wait to discuss this with you!
Travel is also about building bridges between cultures. So let’s make sure it becomes a reality for everyone. ✈️🌎 Thanks for reading, and I look forward to exchanging ideas with you!
I should be serving a warming drink to the participants in the discussion about gardens and parks that provide us with beautiful photos, I could mention the delicious buttery scent wafting from bakeries in the thread about returning to France, but my heart, its powerful pulse that nourishes my entire being, is elsewhere.
Dasht-e Lut, Yazd, Esfahan, Bam, Kerman, Qeshm, Hormuz—a melody, a prayer at the heart of desire.
A dream, an unattainable fantasy? No. Not anymore.
A very serious Italian travel agency is organizing this trip for 6 people this winter. I’m signed up, I’m going, I’m living. Maybe.
"But you’re completely crazy!!!!"
I know... I know that every civilization, every society has a vital need to create scapegoats to define and justify itself, pathetically. And Iran is one of them, top of the list. I laugh or sigh, and it doesn’t bother me.
But that unchanging red, deep red and garnet, so beautiful in itself, in all the Western chancelleries repeats, whispers, shouts: don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, you’re putting yourself in danger and we can’t do anything for you. You’ll be turned into mere bargaining chips, into arguments for endless negotiations. Fear must be instilled, its power absolutely preserved, no concessions made to the enemy. The information (how many French hostages, real or fake, compared to the number of travelers?) is always lacking.
Traveling becomes a merciless confrontation between desire, the vital pulse, and anxiety, its ghosts.
Three of our grandchildren came to spend the last weekend of the holidays at our house.
With her driver’s license just in hand, the oldest took her sister and a cousin along.
I was talking about VoyageForum, and the conversation turned to AI, which finds writing travel journals a breeze—churning out amazing ads for this or that country and even nudging tourists to visit one place over another.
Jules: "It’s crazy, you can plan and organize everything, then just add your photos and the AI’s text, and boom—you’ve got something great."
Héloïse: "What a cheat for yourself and for others." (She’s so wise!)
Gaïané: "Ugh, no more surprises. It even picks the restaurants—so lame."
I had this idea to stay on the theme of travel journals:
I found an excerpt from a book (I’ll let you guess the title and author—of course, the kids figured it out in two seconds with their phones), then I wrote my own version, and finally, the AI generated its own using a few keywords.
Here they are:
"We walked at dusk through the thick, dark forest.
Sometimes, a clearing would reveal a dreamlike landscape. A magical world, far from humans. A world of frozen waterfalls, stiff fir trees, and sharp peaks slicing through the blinding whiteness of the air.
We gazed, dazzled, at the spectacle, imagining we’d left the human world behind and joined that of the spirits."
"For days, we walked through the half-darkness of dense, untouched forests, then suddenly, a clearing would unveil landscapes you only see in dreams. Sharp peaks piercing the sky, icy torrents, giant waterfalls—an entire fantastical world, blindingly white, rising above the dark line traced by the giant fir trees.
We stared at this extraordinary sight, speechless, awestruck, ready to believe we’d reached the limits of the human world and stood at the threshold of the spirits’ realm."
"We walked through the mountain, wild and unyielding, its sharp peaks tearing the sky like honed blades. Giant waterfalls roared and foamed, as if the earth’s hidden forces were pouring out. Higher still, the blinding whiteness belonged to the world of spirits—capricious beings whispering to lost travelers.
Faced with this silent vastness, we felt tiny, uninvited guests meditating on the invisible that dwells in these forbidden peaks."
And, amazingly, they unanimously agreed that the author’s excerpt was a thousand times more poetic.
Héloïse, my history buff, said: "Nothing replaces the real travel experience."
Jules said: "Yeah, but it does the job. Even if the excerpt is cool."
And our oldest added: "It makes you want to go there—not at all like the other two versions. Sorry, Mamido."
And then, miracle—Jules asks: "Do you have the book? Can I borrow it?"
I’m so relieved—young people aren’t completely devoured by technology yet.
And the forum will keep its charm and usefulness for a long time. Phew!
"In one place, in one day, a single deed accomplished,
May hold the theater filled until the end."
- Sunday morning, a chilly dawn
- The kitchen
- Smell of coffee and toast, a jar of honey on the table.
- Tits pecking at sunflower seeds in the transparent feeder stuck to the window.
- France Musique on the radio: Brahms, violin concerto by the lovely Hilary Hahn
- Characters:
- An old man in a plush dark blue dressing gown
- An old woman in a worn-out duck-blue dressing gown.
They dance cheek to cheek, the woman’s head resting on the old man’s broad chest.
The old man breathes in the tangled hair of the lady.
She smiles.
Happy.
Tomorrow, they’re off on a trip.
There’s a similar discussion about India, by the way...
I really, really want to go back to China, but since the country is evolving at lightning speed, I’m wondering. I went there nearly 20 years ago. It was already undergoing a lot of changes, slowly but surely, but I still have wonderful memories of the country, which I found so endearing at the time. I visited Beijing, Sichuan, Guangxi, Hainan, and also Tibet by train, then Xinjiang. Now, we’re mainly considering Gansu and Hunan.
It was still possible to get 60-day visas back then, which isn’t the case anymore since they’re now limited to 30 days. But at the same time, the country seems more accessible. Many hotels are open to foreign tourists, sophisticated transport options have developed everywhere, and it’s possible to visit for up to 15 days without a visa...
Tourists can easily travel by train or plane, but to reach places "off the beaten path," it seems you need to rent a vehicle with a driver. There used to be plenty of day-trip group tours, but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.
It’s hard to find info on whether certain routes are feasible for independent travel.
From what I’ve gathered here and there, "high tech" has taken over the entire country, the countryside has given way to imposing buildings, cities are increasingly industrialized and polluted—basically, the country has become dehumanized...
In short, are there still beautiful places left—dare I say preserved—to see?
Add to this the bad reputation, not always justified, that China suffers from. It seems like the country is being boycotted by travel agencies, as if it’s not "politically correct" to visit. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but I’ve noticed this with French agencies like Nomade, Allibert, etc., which used to offer a wide range of itineraries everywhere, especially in Yunnan. Now, they’ve limited themselves to the classics: Beijing, Xi’an, Shanghai, water towns, or Tibet. Yunnan, Gansu, Qinghai, and many other Chinese provinces are no longer on the menu. Maybe it’s due to COVID...
The destination isn’t exactly a hit on forums either...
So, is it still worth going in 2025? I’d love to hear from those who’ve been there recently.
Looking forward to exchanging thoughts on this fascinating destination (from my point of view, of course).
Hello,
There’s a big debate among travelers who are attached to India and have been visiting often, regularly, for 15 years or more.
I’ve experienced it—and still do—in every sense of the word, first as a tourist, then from the inside by living there for 12 years. I feel it has changed a lot and continues to change at a dizzying pace, year after year, almost month after month.
It all depends on how you see it, how you visit it, where you stay, etc... North or south, and so on...
The debate is open—no animosity or arguments if opinions differ. Just your own take, your personal experiences, your travel conditions, what you’ve noticed and still notice today... Let’s try to be objective, if possible, though it’s a tough exercise.
I’m new to the forum, and I’m writing today to ask the community for feedback on a site concept I’ve been working on for a few weeks.
The idea is to create a worldwide map (starting with France) where anyone can rate a city—or even a neighborhood in a large city—based on a set of criteria (cleanliness, safety, green spaces, cost of living, etc.) and add a comment highlighting the positives and negatives of the area. It’d be like rating a city or neighborhood the way we currently rate restaurants or hotels.
The goal is to inform other users about the nicer (or less nice) neighborhoods in a country and help them choose where to book their next hotel or Airbnb—so they don’t end up in a sketchy area. Beyond that, it’s also about letting people pick their next travel destination based on what matters most to them (cost of living, safety, shopping, transportation, etc.).
Ratings will, of course, be moderated to prevent abuse, and users will need to provide proof (like a utility bill or evidence they’ve visited the city) before they can leave a comment.
I’ve had a test version developed for Paris with the core features, and I’ve named the site CityRate.
I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback! The site is aimed at both locals looking to move to a new neighborhood or city and travelers who want to carefully choose where to spend their next vacation.
Hi everyone,
I’m planning a third trip to Madagascar in 2026. This time, heading north and then part of the west coast before going back up.
The question I’m asking myself—same as during our first visits—is Nosy Be or not?
Of course, the photos show stunning beaches, and when you mention Madagascar, almost everyone says Nosy Be or at least has heard of it. That’s actually why we didn’t include it in our itineraries before, especially since we’d already seen paradise-like beaches in the south, and we had them all to ourselves because they were hard to reach.
On the other hand, I’ve always been drawn to Île Sainte-Marie, but from the north, you have to go back down to Tana, which I’m okay with in principle.
So, what’s your take? Nosy Be and its surroundings—what do you think? Just tourists looking to party?
Thanks
As some participants had mentioned, a simple query could sometimes yield very satisfying results, even if the initial comments from readers of this article don’t necessarily agree.
Instead of presenting our request in writing, I assume we’ll soon be able to speak to AI orally or even have a conversation with it. Refining our searches to perfection would then be a breeze.
But then, what about travel agencies and travel forums?
Will Vfistes, in a twilight atmosphere, keep talking in a closed circle, fewer and fewer of them, until the last one is left monologuing?
Will a side effect be that we start addressing our fellow humans in the same cold, dry way we talk to the Machine? Well, some of us have already gotten into that habit...
With over 30% of current jobs set to disappear because of AI, will it become possible to quickly and perfectly plan trips we can no longer afford financially? What a paradox!
I admit I haven’t looked into this yet, and one of these days I’ll probably end up talking to the Machine, but for now, I prefer to keep laboriously and methodically planning my upcoming trips, telling myself that at least I’m still good for something...
I've traveled quite a bit in Vietnam over the past few years—from the southern delta to bustling cities and even some small islands—but what really sticks with me is the north, the high mountains.
Up there, there's something different—maybe slower, more raw. The morning markets with ethnic groups, women in traditional clothes, the colors...
The stilt houses, kids following you and laughing for no reason, the terraced rice fields—it almost feels unreal at times, so vast and quiet, yet so human and simple.
You often hear that Sapa has become too touristy, and that's partly true, especially in the center. But as soon as you move a little farther away, everything changes quickly. The landscapes open up, encounters feel more natural, and you rediscover something truly authentic.
I think it's that contrast that struck me—the difference between what you imagine before going and what you actually discover when you take the time.
And you—what memory do you hold onto from Vietnam? A particular place that touched you more than others?
I’ve been wondering: Is it still reasonable to rent a car in the U.S.?
Apparently, since early January 2025—and very quietly—the most important insurance coverage, namely the driver’s civil liability, has seen its coverage amount drop from $1 million to just $300,000. This coverage is supposed to protect us from damages we might be responsible for while driving. We can go decades without a single scrape (especially if it’s our fault), but anything can happen in a split second. A motorcycle appearing out of nowhere, a misjudgment at one of those huge intersections with staggered traffic lights, and suddenly we could be deemed at fault for the accident. We’d then have to pay out of pocket for the other party’s medical expenses. Given what hospitals charge... it can easily exceed $300,000 and turn into a nightmare in no time!!! Plus, anyone who’s driven on American roads has seen those billboards for lawyers offering their services to accident victims. So on top of the sky-high medical bill, the lawyer will demand compensation worthy of a Hollywood movie!!!! So, is it even worth getting behind the wheel in America anymore? Well... that’s just my take! And on top of that, I haven’t found any insurance company that offers such high civil liability coverage. Chapka and others do offer coverage in the millions, but motor vehicles are excluded.... So here’s the thing... Unless I’ve "missed something," I’ve come to this conclusion: Renting a car in the U.S. is like playing Russian roulette! But maybe I’m being too pessimistic? What do you think?
Hi everyone,
Accepting the rules everywhere has become the norm, and customer service keeps getting worse and worse.
Who’s to blame? All those who comply without a fuss, even though you’re paying full price everywhere. What used to be normal (good service) has now become the exception.
Example: Hotels and their overly strict rules (rules that, personally, I successfully bend almost every time) 😄.
We pay for a room for 24 hours, not 12-15 hours.
How many times have I arrived at my hotel around noon after exhausting flights, asked for my reserved room, and been told that rooms are only available from 3 or 4 PM? Unacceptable (especially since we often have to check out by 10-11 AM—just as unacceptable).
“Miss, I’m really tired from my trip. Could you make a small effort? I’m sure several rooms are ready by now.”
The response? “It’s the rule. Come back at 4 PM.” 😒
Of course, I get that the front-desk clerk is just blindly following orders (or overdoing it).
I stay calm and ask her to fetch her supervisor (who shows up right away, probably afraid of a scene). I explain with my best "puppy-dog eyes," and—bingo—10 minutes later, I’ve got my room (I’ll spare you the comments from my fellow travelers calling me a rude, uneducated nightmare).
I’m thrilled because they’ll be waiting around for 4 hours 😏.
It’s the same everywhere—restaurants (especially in France), where you arrive at 9:05 PM and are told they’re no longer serving because the chef has finished and turned off the ovens. (Do you really need an oven and 2 hours to make an English breakfast or a cheese platter with good wine?) And then some restaurant owners complain about not meeting their targets—pfft. The list goes on, and I don’t have all the complaints about service providers fresh in my mind (feel free to add yours if you agree). Otherwise, keep bowing your heads—I won’t change the world, but I’ll never accept being told I’m too demanding. It’s the people who let things slide (the majority) who have no standards left, to the detriment of service quality for everyone 😏.
Hi everyone,
I feel like I’ve been lucky enough over the past few years to travel—a lot of that’s thanks to retirement... (see my profile!)
So, aside from my beautiful country, France, here’s my totally subjective top 3:
1 – Antarctica
2 – Greenland
3 – Yellowstone Park
Of course, this is just my opinion—human, architectural, cultural, and gastronomic treasures are everywhere on our unique planet, Earth.
Have a great day, everyone!
Hi everyone, just this once I’m not posting for a travel story, but to share a thought for Venezuela.
If you didn’t know—since it’s not making headlines—the country was hit by two 7.5-magnitude earthquakes last week. Over 2,200 people have died, more than 50,000 are missing, and some coastal towns have been completely destroyed.
Maybe when the scale of the humanitarian crisis becomes clear, our media will cover it a bit more... especially since earthquakes with this many casualties usually make the front page, but there’s been nothing in France.
So here’s a thought for this country, which, whatever you think of its politics, is a true jewel of South America, both for its landscapes and its people.
Many of us have returned to big trips after making only very small ones—or none at all. For a little anecdote, my dentist told me that due to the lack of travel, a lot of clients treated themselves to implants they would’ve otherwise skipped.
The joy of traveling again probably gave some vacationers smiles they hadn’t dared to show before!
Here, you can share what’s on your mind: Have these new, real trips disappointed you, rejuvenated you, or just relieved a long frustration?
For my part, not being so young anymore, there was definitely relief but no explosion of joy.
I just had the feeling of picking up the thread of life after a foggy pause, with the bitter taste that 2 or 3 years of my life had been partly stolen from me.
It’s vacation time
Vacation and silence
Silence and absence
Absence and latency
Latency and silence
Silence and vacation
Vacation and absence
It’s vacation time
I wrote these few words on July 12, 2010, and I can post them again today—nothing’s changed...🙂
If you're walking around the southern part of Lake Bourget, you can't escape the noise from a parachuting club's planes. A group of climate skeptics actually takes off in small, very noisy aircraft every 15 minutes over a Natura 2000 classified area. They don’t seem to face any restrictions—neither for noise nor for greenhouse gas emissions. They occupy the airspace without paying fuel taxes or providing carbon compensation to local municipalities or environmental preservation associations, apparently. It sounds surreal, but it’s very real in such an important location.
Reflection: an act of thought that revisits an object to examine it.
The object here is travel (or tourist movement, it doesn’t really matter) and the desire to examine it from the particular angle of the verb that drives it came from reading a sentence by Xrctn in the introduction to his travel journal about Turkmenistan.
Part of that strange category of travelers who like ticking boxes...
Ticking
I have no idea how strange that is—I actually get the impression it might be pretty common when I see the diverse mix of trips some people here take. But maybe it’s a different approach that drives these compulsive travelers.
Still, it wouldn’t even occur to me. What does it add?
Connecting
Or chaining, assembling, linking.
These are my verbs.
If I can’t do it—either because finances are tight (I live in one of Europe’s pigsties—a PIIGS country, where the virtuous northern barbarians sent the G&S troika to "nurse us back to health" through austerity, making it all the more pleasant to spend every summer among civilized folks on the terrace of my little white house in Kalymnos overlooking the Aegean), or because I’ve chosen a tricky, unstable direction (Lebanon had to be canceled in summer 2006, Syria too, and Iran right now)—I don’t really feel like traveling. I might just tag along to be nice, but it doesn’t mean anything to me.
If I think about the need behind my verbs—this continuous, meticulous, patient way of traveling—it’s about stripping away sudden, artificial exoticism, weaving small, successive changes, and feeling the presence of the knots too. About understanding, integrating something a little different from the image on a screen.
