No journal for the first two days.
Day 1 - CARCANS-ROYAN
Day 2 - ROYAN - ROCHEFORT
Tonight I'm in MARANS in the "dry marsh" according to the campsite manager—it’s the first time I’ve heard of a "dry marsh"?!
Photos from the first two days
My gear
The Landes region—nothing extraordinary, but the calm and serenity are nice.
Le Verdon
The wild coast
This marsh isn’t dry, though.
Today is the third day of my trip, and I’m writing to you from a campsite in Marans. I’ve set out to bike from Carcans Maubuisson back to Plaisir.
Why Carcans?
Because we spent a week there as a family—a great week that lets everyone reconnect for a long stretch.
Also, on Saturday, we all headed home—some by car, and me by bike. This journey is about 850 km via bike paths and small cycling roads. It’s not a sporting feat, just a nice long ride for fun.
As the old Chinese sage says, "The destination doesn’t matter—it’s the journey that counts." But he also told me, "Traveling is great, but what’s the point if you don’t share it?"
You see, this old sage has told me a lot of things—he often keeps me company when I’m biking. Of course, he doesn’t pedal, but we travel in harmony. Sure, he can be a bit annoying sometimes, but we still get along.
All this to say I’ve created a group to share my story.
I’d be happy to share this experience with you—it’s an adventure for me.
On Saturday, I wasn’t sure I’d even leave because I’d been dealing with sciatica for days. Luckily, Juliette, a friend of the old Chinese sage, recommended a lifesaving remedy:
Alternately stretching your legs with an elastic band under your foot. Obviously, a jam jar rubber band won’t cut it.
From Marans - The mosquitoes are attacking; time to head back to shelter.
The first two legs took me to Royan and then Rochefort.
The Sèvre Niortaise flows nearby, and I followed a canal from La Rochelle. You could say the area is as dry as the marsh, judging by the state of the crops.
As I mentioned, it’s the third day, and if Jesus rose again on this day, for me it was more like the crucifixion. The scorching heat—only bearable when you’re moving—combined with rough trail conditions, and the old Chinese sage says, "Terrible roads, slow speed, and watch your limbs."
I set out to do 60 km but ended up doing 80, and the last 20 were tough. I kept checking the GPS to see how much farther until the campsite.
Today: Rochefort to Marans, sticking to the coast until La Rochelle, then no notable towns after that—just a constant canal. But since the sky isn’t too low, it hasn’t gotten lost.
I’ve still got plenty of anecdotes to share, but it’s pitch black out, and the mosquitoes are still around. This morning, I counted ten in my tent, all full of my blood.
Yesterday, at the end of the leg to Rochefort, I was really looking forward to crossing the Charente using the transporter bridge, but a sneaky GPS conspiracy led me far from it. I ended up crossing the Charente on a completely ordinary bridge, watching the transporter bridge in the distance with disappointment.
End of the first episode. Until tomorrow, if you’d like!
January 2026
Here we go again for new adventures and the pleasure of sharing them with you here! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me with the preparations, even with some last-minute improvisations just days before departure. Thanks to Montagnard74, Jojoone1, Songsam, Attila, Dennis2, NadegerFERM, and the authors whose travel journals about Laos inspired me (Montagnard74, Muriel18, Mavietongs...).
In this story, written by Richard and illustrated by me, we’ll tell you about the journey of four friends: Catherine, Richard, Nathalie, and Bruno. A reinvented but overall successful trip, filled with discoveries and surprises, the scents of spices and frangipani flowers, (too) spicy food, sunsets, and... one big mess.
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.
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.
Mid-June, two Auvergnats on the starting blocks—off we go to the former Yugoslavia!
We’d already explored some nooks and crannies of northern Croatia back in 2019, so we’re keeping the momentum going by planning a trip to the south of the country and then Montenegro.
On the way back, we’ll drift into Bosnia-Herzegovina just to mix things up a bit!
We’re a little unsure about what to expect in terms of tourist crowds.
Dubrovnik has a reputation for being the hardest-hit city by overtourism, and Kotor and the whole Dalmatian coast aren’t exactly empty...
Luckily, most European countries haven’t started school holidays yet, and some measures seem to have been put in place to limit the flow (like restrictions on the number of cruise ships allowed to dock at the same time).
Maybe we’ll manage to escape the promised hell?
For now, we’re slamming the doors of the Scirocco and heading off to our first stop: northern Italy!
CORSICA From September 24, 2024 to October 9, 2024
Thank you, thank you, thank you for reactivating my favorite forum, which has given me so many ideas for my trips since... 2008—it’s been ages, as they say!
So, to celebrate its return, I’m sharing this little travel journal from our latest road trip, not too long ago, since it was Corsica in the autumn.
Autumn is the ideal season to visit Corsica: fewer tourists, perfect temperatures around 25°C, and, most importantly, less stress on the roads. You can feel it everywhere. Servers and shopkeepers are more relaxed and have time to chat (yes, Corsicans do talk... but not all of them!)
09/24 Arrival in Erbalunga
Whether you're from northern France or Belgium, like us, the easiest way to reach the Isle of Beauty is by flying from Lille-Lesquin Airport. Volotea offers two destinations: Bastia and Ajaccio. Be careful, though—while the ticket prices are attractive, the airline makes up for it with baggage fees. A 25kg suitcase for 212 €—that really drives up the cost of transportation!
For us, it’ll be Bastia.
After this short flight and an arrival that lets you clearly see the east coast of Cap Corse, we’re welcomed by our friend Jean-Claude, who’s kindly hosting us for a few days. We met this Corsican and his wife during our four-year stay in French Guiana, and I have to say, he completely changed my opinion of Corsicans and even made me want to visit his island.
The house, clinging to the rock above the sea, is stunning and offers a breathtaking view of the island of Elba. I’d always heard of Elba but must admit I wouldn’t have known where to place it before. We’ll stay here for five nights, long enough to explore the north of the island.
Since we’ve just arrived, Jean-Claude wants to show us his village, ERLALUNGA, a quiet little port, and the small village of CASTELLO above it, where he spent a lot of time in his childhood...
Kattegat isn’t just the name of the village in the TV series *Vikings*—it’s also the stretch of water separating Denmark from Sweden... the sea, basically! And further north, you’ve got Norway and its fjords!
Originally, I’d planned to just do a loop around Kattegat, with the *Under* restaurant in Lindesnes as our anniversary treat... but along the way, we thought, why not "push" a little further north, keeping an eye on the budget since we’d chosen to travel by car in June 2025 through Scandinavia.
Why by car when most travelers opt for a camper van, while others prefer the comfort of cruises?
Well, because we don’t own a camper van, renting one is pricey, and then you’ve got to add fuel costs (those things guzzle gas!), ferry fees, and other "tolls." All things considered, we went for mostly rentals—especially since there were four of us at the start of the trip.
We spent the first week in Denmark with our daughter and son-in-law. Then they flew back to Belgium, and we continued our adventure as a couple.
For accommodation, we mainly booked Airbnb apartments, which helped keep costs down and, most importantly, let us prepare our own meals (diet, diet!).
In this travel journal, you’ll discover (or rediscover, for those who followed my older ones) our unbridled love for theme parks, museums, unique experiences, and—especially in Denmark—Legos!
Unfortunately, we didn’t do any hikes this year because the unpredictable weather had made the trails slippery, and since I’d already taken three tumbles during the trip, I didn’t want to risk another!
In the end, we traveled for 32 days, covered 6,200 km, and most importantly, discovered the charming country of Denmark, marveled at Norway’s breathtaking fjords—all without suffering the heatwave that hit France and Belgium that June!
If you’ve got any questions, don’t hesitate to ask!
June 2024.
While hiking with my brother on the GR 36 Tour du Morvan, I catch sight now and then of strange rectangular markers fixed to tree trunks. Against a bright orange background, a deep black Greek tau topped with a white dove. My first encounter with the Assisi Way.
The Way of St. Francis: a pilgrimage route linking Vézelay in Burgundy to Assisi in Italy, covering nearly 1,800 km.
It felt like an obvious next step—I immediately knew I’d take it on, attempt the adventure solo.
In the months that followed, I talked about my project to everyone—family, friends, my partner. An avalanche of comments, more or less the same but varying depending on each person’s character and life experiences. But deep down, it all boiled down to one legitimate question: why?
And the answers?
Hesitant, awkward, partial, even confused. I quickly realized they weren’t so easy to find. It was as if my project seemed more like a whim, a kind of intimate caprice, rather than a well-thought-out plan.
Of course, I knew the reasons that pushed me to leave—you always have to give some. Loved ones need to understand to feel reassured, and that’s understandable.
But I fear that when I list them, they’ll sound like the same old checklist anyone embarking on this kind of journey might give.
Of all the reasons I could mention, I’ll highlight just one here: the call of the road, the solo adventure that brings a powerful sense of freedom.
A bit like Monsieur Seguin’s goat, who from her comfortable pen gazes longingly at the unconstrained horizon of the mountain.
But if I’m being honest, I think I didn’t really know what I was looking for—or, more importantly, what I’d find. Deep down, when I reflect on it, one word keeps coming up that explains nothing and everything at once: desire.
Now well past sixty, I know that when I ask myself who I am or where I’m going, two things bring me fully back to myself: hiking and writing.
And my intention was also to anchor this adventure through words, day by day. Writing down my feelings, emotions, discoveries, and reflections each evening. The famous travel journal that grounds the daily experience in reality.
When I discovered the app "Polarstep," which was initially just meant to keep my loved ones updated and reassured, inform them of my progress, and maintain a connection, I found an opportunity to do it a little differently than usual.
No retrospective notes polished up after returning, but spontaneous writing—recounting everything that crossed my mind during the day and publishing it immediately. A journey lived in real time.
This text is the exact transcription of my daily writings. Rereading them, I didn’t change a thing—just corrected a few mistakes and tweaked some awkward phrasing here and there. Short texts, fitting the format imposed by this kind of app. Writing as if addressing others.
Now, all that was left was to walk.
April 18, 2026 – Vézelay.
After Southern Tanzania, I’m sharing a travel story about the Cantal region with you...
...
For us, at the start of 2025, Le CANTAL was a true “Terra Incognita”!!
After seeing some tempting TV reports, we decided to fill this gap—especially in terms of landscapes. On the same trip, we’ll also head to the Arcachon Basin, the International Seaplane Gathering in Biscarrosse, and my native Landes region...
So, on May 20th, we left Marseille in the rain and thunder, heading toward Nîmes, Saint-Hippolyte, Mont Aigoual, Florac, and stopping in Marvejols to give my arthritic back a break for the night.
The next morning, we decided to revisit the Parc aux Loups du Gévaudan (Europe’s largest wolf park).
As someone used to photo safaris in the wilds of East Africa, I’m not a fan of zoos at all—but I *do* have a deep admiration for wolves!!
Since it’s pretty unlikely I’ll ever see one in the wild, I’ll settle for this Parc aux Loups in Marvejols.
This will be our third visit to this incredible gathering of these fascinating canines.
Blue skies (lots of them), whitewashed villages with steep alleyways, hundreds of churches, and... thousands of stairs?
Welcome to the Cyclades! 🙂
We’d been dreaming about this for a while, but in July-August—with the crowds—no way!
Now that I can travel outside school holidays, the Cyclades are back on the agenda.
And so begins a loooong period of planning and second-guessing, with countless itinerary changes: the Cyclades, yes, but which ones?
I was fixated on Folegandros (we won’t be going after all) and really wanted to visit Delos.
So, for this first trip, it’ll be: Mykonos (and Delos)-Naxos-Amorgos-Santorini.
Saturday 24/05:
Departure from Orly on a Transavia flight, arriving in Mykonos in the late afternoon.
We found a hotel that offers free transfers (pretty rare and not insignificant—it’s 25 € each way for just a few kilometers 😠) and at a reasonable price (83 € per night for B&B).
Time for dinner already: Greek salad and souvlaki (we’re in Greece, right?)
(Okay, this is actually a dakos with Naxos cheese, but I don’t have a photo of a Greek salad 😏).
Hi everyone,
The years go by and Machu Picchu has been on our "to-do list" for a few decades now...
But Peru is, fortunately, so much more than this legendary site...
We went as a couple for a 15-day trip.
For the first time, we delegated the logistics to a local agency (Paprika in Arequipa). This agency offers "classic" small-group tours and the option to do it privately, which we chose.
No complaints—they were perfect for organizing transportation, hotels, and French-speaking guides.
The "classic" southern Peru loop is: Lima, Paracas, Nazca, Arequipa, Colca, Titicaca, Cusco, Sacred Valley, Cusco. Nothing very original... but why get creative when there’s already so much beauty to discover?
We opted for a shorter loop, skipping Paracas/Nazca because the small planes in Nazca weren’t a unanimous hit, and it saved us dozens of hours on the bus.
But we added a stop at Palccoyo (the rainbow mountains) between Titicaca and Cusco.
It might seem like a shame, but we don’t regret it at all.
After a pretty disastrous weather-wise trip to Gran Canaria, we’re hoping this time the sun will shine in Puglia.
It’s not a sure thing, though—the weather’s been awful all over Europe in early May.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16:
This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us.
The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!!
The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that Italian cars don’t have turn signals 😮... except for rental cars).
About an hour later, we arrive at our first accommodation, right in the middle of the countryside near Monopoli.
The owner isn’t there, but they’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch.
We explore the property:
And the next morning before breakfast, its immediate surroundings:
Sunday, May 17:
After our "seaside" experience in Gran Canaria last weekend (packed with people and locals), we decide to start inland.
After a hearty breakfast,
we head toward Alberobello, a super touristy village famous for its trulli—those stone houses with conical roofs.
We easily find a free parking spot on a street near the Aia Piccola district, where some trulli are still lived in year-round.
We almost immediately come across the Trullo Sovrano (the only two-story one), which you can visit (but we skip it—it’s opening time, and there’s already a line).
From there, we head down toward the Basilica of Cosma e Damiano... but we don’t go in because there’s a mass.
Now we’re on the main Piazza del Popolo, which connects the two districts of Alberobello: Rione Aia Piccola and Rione Monti, the more touristy one.
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while.
When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing.
The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
We’re a couple in our fifties who’ve been traveling independently for ages—mostly in Asia, a bit in Africa, very little in the Americas, and never ever in West Asia until November 2023, when we discovered the Sultanate of Oman.
If we waited so long to explore this part of the world, it’s because a few questions were nagging at us, like:
Can two Landais party lovers like us survive 15 days without apéro 😄?
Or, more seriously: Can a feminist like me enjoy traveling in such a conservative country?
That is the question (and I feel your pain with this unbearable suspense 😅).
Ready to dive in?
PS: Apologies in advance for the casual tone of this travel journal—it’s the one I shared with our loved ones in real time, which explains everything.
Back on the forum, I’m starting to write up two 3-week trips to Kenya in August 2021 and 2023.
In 2021, Quynh and I traveled with Régis (Rjulie95 on VF). Our son joined us in Baringo for the second half of the trip.
In 2023, we went with two friends who’d been dreaming of seeing wild animals ever since we got back from Kenya. We didn’t need much convincing to go with them!
The two itineraries are almost identical (well, when you love something...) but we did make a few tweaks.
- The first part of the trip was with a local driver/guide, Félix, who was recommended by Sylvie56. Sylvie and her husband Ben are Kenya enthusiasts—they’ve been there countless times, always with Félix... and for good reason! He’s fantastic!
- The second part was with Melting Pot Safari, an agency that adapted to our photography needs. Tony Crocetta, the co-founder (along with his Kenyan friend Simon Chebon), is a wildlife photographer himself.
Here are the itineraries for both trips, including accommodations:
In 2021:
Day 0: Paris / Nairobi - 67 Airport Hotel
Day 1: Nairobi / Amboseli - Simba Cottage
Day 2: Amboseli - Simba Cottage
Day 3: Amboseli / Aberdares - Fishing Lodge
Day 4: Aberdares - Fishing Lodge
Day 5: Aberdares - Fishing Lodge
Day 6: Aberdares / Samburu - Riverside Camp
Day 7: Samburu - Riverside Camp
Day 8: Samburu - Riverside Camp
Day 9: Samburu / Nakuru - Merica Hotel
Day 10: Nakuru / Baringo - Tumbili Cliff Lodge
Day 11: Baringo - Tumbili Cliff Lodge
Day 12: Baringo - Tumbili Cliff Lodge
Day 13: Baringo / Maasai Mara – Meltingpot Bush Camp
Day 14 to 18: Maasai Mara – Meltingpot Bush Camp
Day 19: Maasai Mara / Nairobi – Roussel Guest House
Day 20: Nairobi / Paris
In 2023:
Day 0: Lyon / Paris / Nairobi - 67 Airport Hotel
Day 1: Nairobi / Meru - Ikweta Camp
Day 2: Meru - Ikweta Camp
Day 3: Meru - Ikweta Camp
Day 4: Meru / Samburu - Riverside Camp
Day 5: Samburu – Riverside Camp
Day 6: Samburu / Buffalo Springs – Samburu Simba
Day 7: Buffalo Springs / Ol Pejeta – Sweetwater Camp
Day 8: Ol Pejeta / Amboseli - Simba Cottage
Day 9: Amboseli - Simba Cottage
Day 10: Amboseli - Simba Cottage
Day 11: Amboseli / Nakuru – Lake Nakuru Lodge
Day 12: Nakuru / Baringo - Tumbili Cliff Lodge
Day 13: Baringo - Tumbili Cliff Lodge
Day 14: Baringo - Tumbili Cliff Lodge
Day 15: Baringo / Maasai Mara – Meltingpot Bush Camp
Day 16 to 20: Maasai Mara – Meltingpot Bush Camp
Day 21: Maasai Mara / Nairobi / Paris
Here’s an itinerary—it’s not exactly what we did, but a combination of both.
Ready to join us on safari to see some wild animals?
For our latest 3-week family trip (yes, the kids are growing up, and two of them are about to enter the working world), we’re heading to South America!
For our first time on this continent, I had planned a classic 3-week loop in Peru.
But since we won’t be returning to this part of the world anytime soon, I thought: why not follow in the footsteps of Franck, aka Bibouns51, who, in 18 days, didn’t just stick to Peru but also added two of the planet’s most stunning landscapes to his itinerary... the Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia and its neighbor, the fabulous Atacama Desert in northern Chile !!
So, I set about the tricky task of limiting the regions we’d visit in Peru to those we considered must-sees, to avoid rushing too much. The visit schedules were optimized, including several comfortable overnight buses that have the huge advantage of letting us hop between regions.
So, we’re off on a somewhat adventurous trip with three domestic flights (two on the first day and one on the last), two overnight buses for quick hops, several car rentals, the services of a few drivers to make the trip more comfortable, and even a tour operator for crossing the Salar...
Our main concern is altitude sickness, and we’re bringing Diamox, aspirin, etc., just in case.
Our second worry before departure was not even getting off the ground... Yes, for once, we’re leaving from France—Marseille, to be exact. The week before our departure, with the surprise air traffic controllers’ strike, I remembered why we usually prefer to leave from abroad, like Turin or Barcelona... In the end, it wasn’t the air traffic controllers who made us nervous but the early July wildfires that paralyzed the airport a few days before our departure. Fortunately, the fires were quickly brought under control, and on the big day, everything was smooth sailing!
Detailed itinerary (which changed on Day 1 due to departure hiccups):
Day 0: Flight Marseille - Madrid - Lima
PERU
Theoretical and abandoned Day 1: Flight Lima - Cuzco and visit Cuzco (Puka Pukara, Tambomachay, Cristo Blanco Observatory, Sacsayhuaman sunset) - Night in Cuzco
Day 2: Taxi -> Chinchero - Moray - Maras Salt Mines - Ollantaytambo - Train to Aguas Calientes
Day 3: Machu Picchu - Return train to Ollantaytambo
Day 4: 2-day taxi -> Pisac - Tipon - Andahuaylillas - Huaro - Night in San Pedro
Day 5: Palcoyo - Checacupe - Vinicunca - Return and night in Cuzco
Day 6: Day in Cuzco (catch-up on Sacsayhuaman, San Blas district, Temple of the Sun) - Overnight bus to Arequipa
Day 7: Rental car -> On the road to Colca Canyon, night in Cabanaconde
Day 8: Descent to the bottom of Colca Canyon, night at Oasis Sangalle
Day 9: Ascent from the canyon - Maca - Chivay - Return and night in Arequipa
Day 10: Visit Arequipa (Santa Catalina Convent, La Recoleta Church and Monastery, La Compañía Church, Cathedral) - Overnight bus to Puno
Day 11: Lake Titicaca - Night in Puno
BOLIVIA
Day 12: Shared taxi -> Road to La Paz, visit downtown La Paz - Night 1 in La Paz
Day 13: Moon Valley and Las Animas Valley - Night 2 in La Paz
Day 14: Day in La Paz - Night 3 in La Paz
Day 15: Flight to Uyuni - Day 1 of Salar de Uyuni tour - Night at the edge of the Salar
Day 16: Crossing the Lipez region and lagoons - Night near Laguna Colorada
Day 17: Sol de Mañana
CHILE
Day 17 cont.: Pre-booked transfer to SPDA - 4x4 rental - Pukara de Quitor - Stargazing tour - Night 1 in SPDA
Day 18: Death Valley and Moon Valley - Night 2 in SPDA
Day 19: Miscanti and Miniques Lagoons, Salar de Aguas Calientes and its Piedra Roja, Tebenquiche Lagoon and Quebrada del Diablo - Night 3 in SPDA
Day 20: Rainbow Valley and swim in the Puritama River - Night 4 in SPDA
Day 21: Tebenquiche Lagoon - Bus to Calama - Flight to Santiago
Day 22: Return Santiago - Madrid - Marseille
Day 0 - 11/07: Destination Lima
Our first flight from Marseille went smoothly to our Iberia layover in Madrid.
In Madrid, just after getting off the plane around 8 PM, and as we were walking through the terminal, we got a rude awakening!!
We saw the word "Cancelled" next to our flight number on the display boards. Thinking it must be a glitch, we checked another screen, but the system was stubborn, and the same dreaded word appeared !
So, we headed to the Iberia counter, where an agent confirmed that our Friday evening flight was canceled and rescheduled for the next morning. The reason? A breakdown and no replacement plane, even though we were in Madrid, Iberia’s home base!
To make matters worse, I remembered our super-tight schedule, planned to the minute, with no buffer day in Lima. Since I’m a bit phobic of megacities and hadn’t found anything appealing in the Peruvian capital in our guidebooks, we’d planned to leave Lima as soon as possible for Cusco, the heart of the Sacred Valley, to spend our first day there.
Bad idea, because we already knew the 4-hour buffer wouldn’t be enough, and we’d miss the domestic flight, which was, of course, non-refundable and non-changeable. So, we had to call LATAM from Madrid to find another flight for Saturday evening and negotiate a rate to recover some of our initial outlay.
After an hour on the phone with customer service, several endless holds, and three failed attempts to dictate our credit card number over the phone to a Spaniard speaking English with a thick accent, we finally managed to confirm the transaction, securing our new flight tickets for a moderate extra cost of just 150 € total.
At first, we were pretty bummed about losing a day and incurring extra fees to reschedule the domestic flight, but then, when we learned from an Iberia customer service rep that we’d receive the max compensation of 600 € per traveler, we even ended up grinning... because 3000 € in refunds for only losing the first day in Cusco? We’d sign up for that 10 times over!!
Iberia then took care of us, putting us up in a hotel where we had dinner before a short 5-hour night and an early morning departure. I took the opportunity to improvise a quick day of sightseeing in Lima, focusing on the Barranco and Miraflores districts.
Hi everyone,
We’re just back from a month-long trip to Morocco in our camper van.
After crossing France (we left from the Nantes area) and Spain, we arrived in Algeciras where we bought our boat tickets to Tangier. When we got to Tangier, as we were going through customs, you can imagine our surprise when the customs officer took our road map of Morocco and pointed out the label "Western Sahara" (just like in the forum’s destination section, by the way!).
He wanted it to say "Moroccan Sahara" instead!!! But there was nothing we could do—it was an old map... He wouldn’t listen, and after long discussions with the other (younger) customs officers, he finally gave it back and let us through... Unbelievable! Later, we heard that other travelers had their maps confiscated outright.
So, hide it well if you want to keep yours!!!
Anyway, we skirted around Tangier’s suburbs—pretty grim—and finally arrived in Asilah.
Following the coast and the long promenade along the beach, we reached the campsite. It was a bit crowded, not much shade, but it wasn’t far from the medina or the beach, and it wasn’t expensive.
There’s some life here: Moroccan families seem to live on-site, in tents or basic bungalows. A woman was cooking tagine on a brazier—we were right in the atmosphere! The night was quiet, and we slept well. We set off on foot, walking along the seafront to the medina...
We’d already been here in 2009. It was less touristy back then! Still, at this early hour, the little streets inside were very quiet. The walls had been freshly whitewashed, and there were even more murals than before.
Around 11:30 AM, we strolled along the ramparts by the sea. There was a nice breeze! And a lot more people around. We enjoyed a milkshake on the terrace of a café overlooking the beach that stretches out at the foot of the medina.
Some young guys were having fun diving off the rocks—and even off the top of the wall!
Since no travel journal has been posted about this destination since 2020, I’m giving it a go—maybe it’ll jog some memories for a few of you or give others a few ideas... even if, in the end, there isn’t much to tell 😎!
Even though the itinerary was as classic as can be, it still led to a few brain knots: in what order? How many nights on each island? Rent a car or not?
In short, plenty of existential questions to land on 4 nights per island, finishing with Mahé to avoid any nasty surprises before the return flight.
Saturday 03/22: Flight to Mahé with Qatar Airways (no—or rather, no more—direct flights from Paris 😕)
A nice surprise at CDG with the discovery of a new lounge in Terminal 1
Then, an in-depth exploration of Doha Airport thanks to (or because of) a loooong layover:
And finally, arrival at the tiny Mahé airport where we step onto the tarmac feeling like we’ve walked into a steam room
Baggage claim is quick, the shuttle to the port is on time, the ferry is punctual (we, on the other hand, are *very* early for it ), and there’s Praslin in sight:
... with a sneak peek of the sea’s colors 🙂
Quick note on the photos: most were taken with a smartphone, and the colors are a bit more saturated than in real life (I did bring my hybrid camera, but in the end, I barely used it since it wasn’t very practical to lug around on the water or for snorkeling).
We pick up the car (a Grand i10 instead of a Picanto) from a muddy parking lot (it just rained) and off we go—of course, with a windshield wiper instead of the turn signal 😎, left-hand driving obliges.
In just a few minutes, we arrive at our accommodation for these 4 nights on Praslin (Oh, and now the "lien" tab isn’t working! )
We’re blown away by the view from the terrace:
Then by the view from the little shared terrace on a promontory:
Before heading to test the water temperature on the other side of the road, at Anse Boudin, and spotting our first fish.
Our trip to Norway was two years ago already, but I thought it might still be of interest—and it’ll let me relive it a bit by proxy.
Before booking our flight tickets, we debated the route: should we prioritize the north with the Lofoten and Senja islands, or the south with its countless fjords? I was tempted to stay in the south—the country is so vast, and the drive north is long... but my husband really didn’t want to miss the Lofoten. In the end, we figured that since Norway is known for being expensive, we might only visit once (funny how we said the same thing before our first trip to the American West, and look how that turned out 😎), so we didn’t want to skip anything. That meant a 2–3 day drive up north. With 22 days on the ground, it was doable. Especially since, as usual, we skip big cities and gave Oslo a pass.
Practical details:
- Flight tickets: 1195 € for 4 with Air France (Paris–Oslo outbound, Tromsø–Bergen–Paris return)
- Car rental: 2020 € for 21 days (including the outrageous drop-off fee between Oslo and Tromsø—about 1000 €)
- Tolls and ferries: 250 € for the portion billed directly by the rental company. Some ferries required advance booking and payment at the time of reservation—I’ll note their prices as I go through the story.
- Hotels: 4135 €, averaging 188 € per night. We blew past our usual budgets from trips to the U.S., but oh well...
- Food: 1570 €, averaging 71 € per day for 4 in a country where everything’s expensive... How’d we manage? We rarely ate out, mostly grocery shopped, and even packed half a suitcase with non-perishables: pasta, rice, a few cans, and even some cured sausage! We also stayed 3 nights at Clarion Collection hotels, where an evening buffet was included in the room rate.
In these post-COVID years, South Africa (SA) has drawn me back again...
The long-time forum members will say I'm a bit obsessed (I've now surpassed 20 trips to this country, including 2 in Namibia)...
But new readers can find my old travel journals and enjoy this new installment.
So, three new trips... each lasting a month... always too short.
I’ll try to be pragmatic.
Let’s start with the basics!
You can plan your trip from your couch with complete peace of mind.
Through any Booking site or directly (sometimes cheaper), I’ve never had any issues with my direct bookings—they’ve always matched what was promised.
For national parks outside KwaZulu-Natal (where it’s KZN Wildlife), use the SANparks website, or Nature Reserve for that type of "accommodation."
Air France, Lufthansa, or KLM... depending on the year and circumstances.
Most flights are overnight, allowing you to arrive early in Joburg and... leave this city I don’t much like as quickly as possible.
KLM offers a daytime flight to Cape Town... just arrange your first night’s stay.
You drive on the left in SA (you knew that, right?)... you get used to it.
Passport: must still be valid for 6 months with several blank pages...
Car rental?
A car is pretty much essential, whether for short or long trips. It’s safer too. Aside from the secure Gautrain in Joburg and Cape Town (CT from now on), I don’t take the train.
Except for the red bus drop-off/pick-up in CT, I don’t take the bus. In this specific case, it’s practical because you can access all of CT’s spots—including the famous Lion’s Head—without worrying about parking or traffic.
These past three years, I’ve chosen Around About Cars as my rental company. I’m very satisfied with them.
What kind of car?
It depends on what you’re doing and your budget. The vast majority of roads don’t require a special vehicle.
In a park, the "high ground clearance" of SUVs lets you see animals better and helps avoid potholes (the SA version—ostrich-sized), speed bumps (our "sleeping policemen" with a big belly), and tackle the last few kilometers or 100 meters that can be a bit rough with complete peace of mind.
Do your research.
For me, it’s 4x2 or 4x4 depending on...
South Africans drive fast... and I feel safer that way.
International driver’s permit? Legally required! Never asked for by a rental company, only once by the police—but I stood my ground, confident, and it went smoothly.
Road checks? Yes, often—at least two every time, but they’re relaxed...
Note that if a police officer wants to give you a fine, it must be done at the police station—insist on going there... they’ll usually drop it.
If they suggest paying on the spot in cash to "make things easier"... it’s just for their pocket. There’s a special "police alert" number—remind them of it!
The rand is the South African currency.
Nowadays, cards work in many places. But note: a car rental company will ask for a credit card, not a debit card.
Be careful: cash is no longer accepted in SANparks camps and other places (entrances, etc.)! It’s card only!
I always carry some cash. I order it from Yeschange (sounds dodgy, but it’s very reliable).
Phew...
What an introduction!
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
Yesterday, I checked the Thailand forum to see if there were any questions to answer, but not much was happening—it was pretty quiet. Then I scrolled through the Southeast Asia section and realized that, even though Burma (Myanmar) was included, there weren’t many posts about it... I’ve only been there once, back in 1987, so it’s hard to create a photo thread about multiple trips like I sometimes do for Thailand. Still, that one trip was packed with unusual adventures, so I thought I’d share a few stories from it.
Since I didn’t take any notes at the time, this is all from memory—it’s not an exhaustive travel journal and isn’t meant to help plan a future trip to Myanmar.
Don’t expect photos; there won’t be any. I have some, but they’re slides that would need scanning and editing one by one to fix the wear and tear of time—way too much work.
The Context.
Back then (reminder: 1987), I was volunteering in Paris at the counter of a travel agency on Rue des Écoles. The agency was part of a well-known organization based in Mulhouse that mostly offered scheduled flights to Asia, charter flights to the Mediterranean, and flights to Mali with their own plane. They also had a few rare "roots"-style trips to certain destinations—trips where you didn’t bring your tennis racket but were ready to soak in everything, even if it meant tough conditions.
I’d already been to Thailand, Indonesia, and the Philippines in Asia. The director knew this, so he asked me to accompany a group to Burma. At the time, tours to Burma were already being sold by competitors, but they all had to go through the state-run agency, Touristburma (buses and hotels for tourists, and they only showed you what they wanted you to see—kind of like traveling in North Korea today). The service was only payable in dollars at the official exchange rate (which was six times worse than the black market rate, mind you...), and since it went through the state agency, all the money ended up with the junta.
My job was to do everything *without* going through Touristburma, which was completely illegal there. Nothing would be booked in advance. Back then, the Burmese visa was only valid for 8 days/7 nights, and since clients were paying for the experience, the itinerary was planned ahead. I’d have to find transport and a guide on the black market as soon as I arrived.
The clients weren’t misled—they knew from the start that the trip would be off the books, that officially we’d be a small group of friends (not an agency), unlike the truth (Touristburma wasn’t mandatory for individual travelers), and that it would be challenging. They also knew their trip would cost 3-4 times less while giving them a much better experience of Burma. As for pretending to be a group of friends, there were only six of us, so it worked out.
To cover all expenses (accommodation, transport, excursions), the agency gave me a sufficient budget. They also gave me the *same* budget a second time, which was strictly for bribing officials who might cause trouble, for backshish (tips), and, if needed, to "help" me get out of prison.
Before I left, I was thoroughly briefed by another guy who’d led the previous trip (he’d dealt with all the initial challenges). He explained everything I needed to know, what to watch out for, and advised me on what to bring as "gifts" (samples of well-known perfumes, specific cigarette and whisky brands, etc.). For the perfume samples, I rallied my family, friends, and even stores. For the rest, I’d pick things up at the duty-free shops in Don Muang (Bangkok’s only airport at the time)—I had the budget for it.
Five years of an unintended break... The closure of VF, COVID... What a joy to rediscover the pleasure of sharing!
I’ve stayed true to my habits: the following account is a collection of practical tips rather than a travel journal...
Madagascar is as big as France and Belgium combined. In three weeks, choices have to be made! It was the Great Tsingy that inspired our trip. We decided to focus on the southwest and the RN7. We skipped the Deep South and the North. Oh well...
OUR ITINERARY IN 3 WEEKS:
Fri 6 June – Direct AF flight to Tana – Flight arrives at 10:30 PM – Tana
Sat – Antsirabe
Sun – Miandrivazo
Mon – Drive to the Masiakampy pier – Descent of the Tsiribihina River by pirogue - Bivouac
Tue – Descent of the Tsiribihina River by pirogue - Bivouac
Wed – Descent of the Tsiribihina River by pirogue – Bekopaka
Thu – Pirogue on the Manambolo River and Small Tsingy of Bemaraha – Bekopaka
Fri – Great Tsingy of Bemaraha – Bekopaka
Sat – Avenue of the Baobabs – Morondava
Sun – Belo sur Mer
Mon – Free day – Belo sur Mer
Tue – Manja
Wed – Andavadoaka
Thu – Free day – Andavadoaka
Fri – Salary Lagoon – Mangily
Sat – Ranohira
Sun – Isalo National Park - Ranohira
Mon – Anja Reserve - Ambalavao - Fianarantsoa
Tue – FCE train canceled – Visit to a Tanala village - Manakara
Wed – Pirogue on the Pangalanes Canal – Ranomafana
Thu – Ranomafana NP – Ranomafana
Fri – Ambositra – Antsirabe
Sat 28 June – AF flight to Paris – Flight departs at 11:55 PM
TRIP ORGANIZATION:
I prepared my trip using the usual guides (LP and Rough Guide), the internet, and the Freytag & Berndt map (1:1,000,000). I’m old-school—I still love visualizing my route on a paper map, even though in Madagascar, it’s misleading because some National Roads are only national in name!...
The agency:
Since we couldn’t deal directly with a driver-guide (we lacked reliable info to take the plunge), we went through an agency to organize the logistics of our trip. We didn’t feel like using bush taxis (not enough time) or driving a 4x4 ourselves (neither the skills nor the boldness).
The French agency connected us with a local agency, to whom I sent my detailed itinerary by email. A few exchanges via email and WhatsApp calls allowed us to finalize everything quickly after some adjustments.
As you’ve gathered... we multiplied the commissions, which inflated the budget. That said, in the end, we were thrilled with our decision and our choice.
Our trip was booked by the end of 2024, and reservations were made immediately. No bad surprises: the bookings in the planned hotels were honored, often with one of the best rooms.
On our last day in Tana, before departure, we were lucky enough to meet the director I’d been communicating with, who helped build and validate our circuit. A very warm debriefing.
The driver-guide:
The agency assigned us Faly, 33, a driver-guide for over 10 years.
He stayed with us from start to finish: he picked us up at the airport on arrival and dropped us off 23 days later.
A very experienced driver (which is important here), an open and cultured guide, reliable, punctual, and a great companion. And a provider of good advice throughout the trip.
We made the most of the long stretches on dirt roads or highways to listen to him talk about daily life, rituals, wildlife, and flora... No time wasted! With a great playlist in the background, we combined business with pleasure!
Faly’s accommodation and meals were included (quite often, hotels offer free lodging and meals to driver-guides who bring clients), as was the fuel. That didn’t stop us from inviting Faly to share a beer or our evening meal sometimes. He didn’t always accept, wanting to let us "enjoy our romantic evenings," as he put it. Present without being intrusive!
Faly is fully capable of organizing a tailor-made trip directly. I recommend him without any hesitation—we were delighted with his service. I’ll gladly share his contact details via PM to anyone who asks.
Local guides:
It’s the national guide’s prerogative to choose the local guides (mandatory in the parks).
Thanks to his experience, Faly always booked us amazing, competent, and interesting local guides.
Hotels:
I told the agency I wanted charming, comfortable accommodations, without falling into flashy luxury.
We loved all the hotels (except the Hôtel Kanto in Manja). The rooms, mostly bungalows, were always spacious and clean. Unfortunately, I can’t give the prices—I didn’t get the details.
Breakfast is always included, usually fresh and hearty. Very often, a small bottle of water is provided in the room.
Tana
Hôtel Les 3 Métis
Power cuts are common (!) in Tana. Bring a headlamp.
Antsirabe
Ecolodge – Les chambres du voyageur
Maybe our favorite! A few bungalows, beautifully arranged in a splendid tropical garden. The dog Kodak welcomes us warmly.
Miandrivazo
Hôtel Princesse Tsiribihina
Magnificent view of the valley.
Bekopaka
Hôtel Orchidée du Bemaraha
2 (yes, 2) beautiful pools, a large open common room.
Morondava
Hôtel Baobab Café
Brand new or at least, according to Faly, just renovated.
Very comfortable but without much charm (international style).
Belo sur Mer
Ecolodge du Menabe
The bungalows, all made of wood, bamboo, and thatch, are set on the beach. Very spacious and fully equipped!
Large open-air restaurant by the sea.
No hot water from the tap—it’s available in plastic bottles heated by the sun in front of each bungalow. Actually, we never used it...
Another very, very beautiful spot.
Manja
Hôtel Kanto
The only hotel on this leg of the journey, so no choice. The owner knows it and, as a result, doesn’t bother.
It’s a real dive! Tiny, dark room, a sordid bathroom with only a trickle of water—we skipped the shower! Clean sheets, though.
Obviously, no Wi-Fi.
The only place where I didn’t leave a tip.
We were well warned about the discomfort of this stop, both by the agency and Faly. We weren’t surprised, and it even became a running joke during the trip.
On the other hand, we found a nice little market in town.
Andavadoaka
Manga Lodge
What bliss! Especially after the horrible Hôtel Kanto.
A paradise-like spot, overlooking three beautiful deserted white-sand beaches.
Meals are served on the terrace facing the sea. Stunning sunset.
We loved spending a day lounging here! We were the only guests and were pampered.
Mangily (Ifaty)
Mangily is the "suburb" of Ifaty.
Hôtel Vovo Telo
A large beachfront bungalow complex. More touristy but pleasant—we spent a lovely evening there with our feet in the sand.
Ranohira
Le Relais de la Reine
A splendid resort built by a Frenchman, at the foot of the rocks, very well integrated into the environment.
Beautiful marked trail starting from the garden.
Fianarantsoa
Villa Sylvestre
Contrary to what its name suggests, it’s a hotel right in the city center. Quite decent, though.
Manakara
Parthenay Club
Pretty bungalows in a large garden by the sea, but swimming isn’t safe—the water is too dangerous and rough.
Ranomafana
Hôtel Thermal
Very spacious rooms.
Meals:
Not all our meals were included. It’s really not expensive.
1 meat or fish dish: around 35,000 Ar
1 full menu (starter, main, dessert): around 70,000 Ar
1 large THB beer (65 cl): between 8,000 and 12,000 Ar
1 piña colada: 15,000 Ar
1 flavored rum: 6,000 Ar (sometimes free)
1 glass of baobab juice (!): 5,000 Ar
We always ate very well. Rice is everywhere, served in large quantities.
Zebu meat is quite good if not overcooked.
Personally, I prefer fish, and I feasted: grouper, captain, crab, small lobsters...
We happily discovered baobab juice (especially in Belo, on the west coast).
And of course, flavored rums!
We bought 2 packs of 6 bottles of mineral water at Carrefour (!) (about 5,000 Ar per large bottle) at the start of our trip. That was enough, especially since we often got water in the bungalows.
We had a few picnics included in our trip. Instead of picking up the hotel’s lunchbox, Faly prepared delicious, fresh, and varied picnics for us: tuna pasta salad, fried rice with eggs, grilled vegetables, and avocado...
An exceptional address not to miss:
Mad Zébu – Belo sur Tsiribihina
A highly reputed restaurant, a favorite of LP and Rough Guide, and rightly so! Gourmet cuisine, refined and elegant. Barely more expensive than elsewhere, and it’s worth it.
We stopped there on our way up to Bekopaka and the Tsingy NP. Fully booked! So Faly reserved for our return, three days later. We’re still thanking him! What a treat!
THE BUDGET:
Ariary exchange rate: 5,000 Ar = 1 €
Pre-trip expenses:
Direct Air France flights: 930 € per person round trip
Cost of the circuit with the agency: 2,880 € per person
The visa:
Issued on arrival, very quickly. 35 € per person for a stay under 30 days. Super simple. Super fast.
On-site expenses:
As soon as we arrived at the airport (it was nearly midnight), Faly advised us to exchange our euros for all our needs. There are few opportunities on our route to find an ATM or an open bank with a good rate. To be more comfortable, he took us to a small office under military protection just outside the airport. I exchanged 1,200 € (I had asked the agency for advice on the amount to bring) at a rate of 4,750 Ar and became a millionaire. Faly recounted all the stacks.
That covered all our expenses (meals, drinks, tips) without ever feeling deprived. Personal purchases were made at the end of the trip. Convenient—it served as an adjustment variable. We spent our last million (200 €) on marquetry and vanilla.
Tip: We asked for 200,000 Ar in 5,000 Ar bills for tips. That wasn’t too much—I even ran short of small bills in the last two days.
Tips:
Madagascar is a poor country where every service deserves a small reward. While not mandatory, it’s customary. But no one ever demanded or expected it openly. On the contrary, I sometimes had to remind a porter to give them my small bill.
We never carried our luggage—porters were always present when the car arrived or waiting at our door to watch for our departure. I gave each of them 5,000 Ar.
In restaurants, I rounded up to the nearest ten and left the change.
Local guides also expect a tip: I gave around 20,000 Ar per day for the two of us.
Finally, the national guide also expects a gratuity. I had read online to budget 5 € per day per person. I added more since we were so happy with his services. The tip was given at the end of the trip, in euros, outside the budget.
Total budget all included (excluding personal purchases): 8,690 €
Clearly, Madagascar is a country where life isn’t expensive, but travel costs add up quickly due to the need to rent a 4x4 with a driver.
HIGHLIGHTS:
· The dirt roads
Yes, I’m listing them among the highlights!
We loved those long hours spent driving at 20 km/h on rocky, muddy, white, red, or gray sand tracks... surrounded by tropical vegetation, palm trees, pandanus, mango trees...
The experiences were sometimes thrilling: crossing a river on a ferry (just planks of wood fixed on two motorized pirogues side by side) or crossing a river without a ferry, with just a kid running ahead of the 4x4 to show the way; soft sand where the 4x4 easily gets stuck...
The tracks are quite narrow, and crossing paths with a bush taxi, a zebu cart, or a herd of goats is always epic. So many beautiful images, so many beautiful photos! Much more beautiful than on asphalt.
So yes, we loved those long stretches on dirt roads. For us, it was clearly part of the journey.
Faly was particularly careful, and the 4x4 was comfortable. No injuries, no fatigue, even after 7 or 8 hours on rough tracks.
The national roads (including the famous RN7) are badly damaged by cyclones, huge trucks, and lack of maintenance. Potholes have turned into ostrich nests, and we didn’t drive much faster than on the dirt roads.
· The landscapes, villages, encounters...
We crossed a variety of stunning landscapes: mountains with slopes covered in terraced crops, rice fields from apple green to emerald green, sugarcane fields, then tropical forests, baobab forests (they deserve a special paragraph below), traveler’s tree forests. And then coastlines with white sand dunes against a backdrop of blue hues!... Magical!
We also passed through many villages with houses whose architecture varied by region. The Betsileo houses display beautiful decorative brick reliefs. On the west coast, the houses are more precarious, made of bamboo with palm-thatched roofs. In the Highlands region, we found solid houses with pastel plaster. Each region has its own landscape, crops, habitat, and clothing.
Zebu carts are often the only means of transport in remote villages. We saw them very frequently. Again, the cart’s decoration depends on the region.
And then, we met many villagers coming out of the bush and walking to the next market, carrying their crops on their heads or shoulders.
More beautiful photos!
· The descent of the Tsiribihina River
We boarded around 9 AM in a long pirogue with Gana, the local guide, and two pirogue men. So, five of us. The pirogue is long but narrow, about 65 cm wide. We sat one behind the other at the front on seats padded with what would become our mattresses during the bivouacs.
We only took the bare essentials for two nights.
A little goodbye to Faly, whom we’d see again in three days! Don’t forget us!
The river is silty—meaning orange, opaque but clean.
We glided along silently. Gana showed us the trees, birds, crocodiles (we saw five—apparently, we were lucky). The pirogue men rowed to get us as close as possible to these crocs sunbathing on the roots of big trees. Yeah, right!... as soon as we got too close, *splash*, they disappeared into the water.
We marveled at the mini rice fields lining the river. Every tiny plot, no matter how small, is cultivated. Above them, banana fields. And on the water, a whole life of fishermen and villagers living with and from the river.
Gana warned us we’d eat on the pirogue because the journey was long. So, I expected chips... But no—fried rice and zebu steak, cooked right in the pirogue!! Incredible!
In the middle of the afternoon, we reached a small beach where we disembarked. Gana led us about a hundred meters to a sublime waterfall. We were alone there. We had time to swim. We’d brought our swimsuits and a towel (bought at the Carrefour in Antsirabe on Faly’s wise advice!). This swim in this paradise-like spot remains one of our best memories.
We found our pirogue again and set off until our first bivouac. We’d sailed for 7 hours today.
The tents were set up on a wide beach, without a single tree. A moment of solitude... Uh, where can we go to the bathroom?... Especially since it was a full moon, so we felt like we were in the spotlight. Anyway... we did as everyone else—walked away, dug a hole, and the others turned their backs.
A hearty meal on the beach before a comfortable and silent night.
The next day, same program, with slightly different landscapes. The gorges widened, the trees were different. But still many colorful birds. Again, we ate on the pirogue: grilled chicken and vegetables. 9 hours of sailing. A similar bivouac. This time, we got it.
On the third day, we finished the descent with 5 hours of sailing.
So, 7 hours, 9 hours, 5 hours... doing nothing. It might sound boring... but it wasn’t. Like the dirt roads, these were contemplative moments. It glides, it’s calm, relaxing, and there’s a lot of life on this river, animal and human. Contemplation. Suspended time.
On arrival, we disembarked at a sort of joyful, bustling river port. Of course, Faly was already there to pick us up.
· The Tsingy de Bemaraha NP (Small and Great)
I have vertigo.
During my research, several agencies advised me against visiting the Great Tsingy. "Stick to the Small ones," they said. Grrr, no, not what I wanted—we’ve dreamed of this for years! The agency we chose also warned me but didn’t discourage me.
So we started with the Small Tsingy, quite close to Bekopaka, guided by Alisha. This forest of sharp limestone rocks is impressive. No vertigo issues here.
The day was completed with a short pirogue ride on the Manambolo River and a visit to two caves with pretty formations.
The next day, Faly and Alisha drove us to the Great Tsingy (a good hour on a terrible track). Arriving at the park entrance, Alisha equipped us with harnesses, carabiners, and gave us some safety instructions. Faly was also equipped. Wait? He’s coming with us? I quickly understood he was there for me—if I got stuck, he could go back with me, and Philippe could continue with Alisha. A wise precaution that delighted and reassured me. In the end, it was unnecessary since the famous bridge crossing was fully secured by the harness and carabiners. 18 meters on planks, one by one, it didn’t sway too much—I walked looking straight ahead, not a glance down. I even managed to smile in the middle of the crossing—I have a photo to prove it! I was overjoyed!
The circuit in the Great Tsingy is a loop, so we didn’t have to cross the bridge again.
We climbed to viewpoints offering breathtaking panoramic views. It’s extraordinary, unique, incredible.
All this to say that if you have vertigo, don’t hesitate! It’s doable! It’s completely safe and really worth pushing your limits a bit! For those who’ve done treetop adventure courses, it’s similar. Also, no need to be a great athlete—just a bit of agility to climb a few ladders and high steps. Don’t censor yourself!
I even had a small regret—the loop was a bit short (about 2 hours). I would’ve liked to continue or even redo it, with less apprehension.
Tip: Do the Small Tsingy before the Great ones, or not at all. And if you can only do one, do the Great ones without hesitation.
· Canoeing in the Belo mangrove
The Belo sur Mer ecolodge lends small individual canoes for free to go to the mangrove. We left at high tide, paddled for about twenty minutes to reach a fairly sparse forest where we could easily venture in. Very shallow water, crystal clear—we could see the roots of all these trees, schools of tiny fish... It was quite surprising. Until then, I only knew impenetrable, tangled mangroves. Here, nothing like that—we walked through an aquatic forest. We loved this adventure so much we left a bit late. The tide had gone out, and we had to carry our canoes for the last few meters... Of course, the staff came to help (probably laughing silently!).
The lodge owners gave all the necessary explanations and lent a waterproof bag for the phone (because yes, it’s worth taking photos!). A very useful precaution—the canoes are small, low in the water, and paddling quickly soaks you.
Again, this isn’t just for Tony Estanguet! It didn’t cause us any problems, not even sore muscles the next day. A great experience. It’ll take about 2 hours.
· Isalo NP
Big surprise when we saw this huge rocky massif appear on the RN7! A massif of colored sandstone, carved with crevasses giving it a ruined look.
Le Relais de la Reine is a little gem cleverly nestled in the heart of these rocks. A small marked trail starts from the garden. We picked up the description at reception and set off. Without a guide, alone following the markers, it took us 2 hours to complete this magnificent little trail, giving us a first glimpse of the massif before the hike the next day. And we enjoyed being completely alone for this walk. It’s free, easy, and well-signposted. Don’t miss it.
In the evening, Faly took us to the so-called Isalo Window site—a hole in a wall through which we could see the sunset. We met all the tourists in the area here. We weren’t blown away by the show...
The next day, we left early to reach the start of the hike. We met Zozoly at the guides’ office in the small town of Ranohira. During this hike, we climbed through the rocks to a viewpoint offering stunning 360° views of the massif. Then we reached a site called the "natural pool," breathtakingly beautiful, especially since we were alone again. A sort of oasis, a cascading waterfall, palm trees and tree ferns, fine sand, all nestled at the bottom of a small canyon. Paradise-like. We resisted swimming, but it was really tempting.
A long walk on the plateaus then led us to a well-equipped picnic site where a local team prepared grills. Concrete tables were tiered in a spacious, shady clearing where a whole family of ring-tailed lemurs frolicked. They knew the tourists’ habits and tried to snatch food. Playful and not very shy, they amused us with their antics! We had to resist not luring them with a piece of banana!! Thousands of photos!!
After the meal, we set off again with Zozoly for another landscape. This time, we were by a small river at the bottom of a canyon with high walls covered in vegetation. The trail was narrow and slippery, on a ledge of the wall. We progressed carefully. No danger, though. We first reached the Blue Pool, which only turns blue in photos (surprise!), then the Black Pool fed by a shower of waterfalls. Two magnificent spots that showed us a completely different aspect of the massif.
· Anja Reserve
This ficus forest is home to many groups of lemurs. Used to humans, whom they don’t fear, they move around us, ignoring us completely. It’s almost annoying... The best place on our trip to see lemurs.
· The FCE train
To the great regret of Manakara’s inhabitants, the FCE train hasn’t reached here for over a year and a half. As a result, there are far fewer tourists—the train was part of the experience.
We drove there and didn’t regret coming to this port on the east coast.
· Visit to a Tanala village
This visit wasn’t part of our program—it was added by the agency to compensate for the train not running. Which was the case.
Not big fans of this kind of visit, where we feel like we’re at a zoo, voyeuristic, lacking authenticity, we followed the local guide with some skepticism and exchanged dubious looks. And yet... the guide’s explanations about village life and the warm, smiling welcome from the villagers charmed us and dispelled all our concerns. We learned a lot, met smiling families, and were able to enter these beautiful bamboo houses. A very pleasant surprise, rich in lessons.
· The Pangalanes Canal
Arriving in Manakara, we crossed a bridge overlooking the Pangalanes Canal. A cry of surprise: the water is turquoise!
We took a short pirogue ride with a team of three pirogue men and Joël, a local guide who explained the drama caused by the train’s halt. We stopped in a fishing village where Joël bought fish for the barbecue. We ended up on a beach where the team prepared the meal while we went to watch the fishermen return on the nearby beach.
We admired the fishermen’s dexterity in untangling their nets, sorting their fish, cleaning their gear. On our return, we found a small table set up on the beach, in the shade of palm trees and casuarinas. Lobsters, captain fish, grilled vegetables, sautéed potatoes. A real feast (included in the trip cost).
· Ranomafana NP
A 4-5 hour hike (some climbing) in a dense secondary forest to look for lemurs. As usual, we were accompanied by a local guide who, while waiting to find our furry friends, gave us lots of info on the vegetation, birds, and Tanala ethnic rituals. In the forest, we met 4 or 5 trackers, armed with radios to alert guides of their findings. In the end, we saw several lemurs of different types. Quite far, quite high... A nice complement to our lemur encounters in Isalo.
Here, it rains 200 days a year. We started the hike in thick fog, but the forest’s density protected us from the humidity.
Be careful—it can be a bit frustrating to see the lemurs so far away, so high. Nothing like the Anja Reserve or Isalo NP. Here, what’s fun is the hunt.
· The baobabs
We were captivated by these kings of the forest, noble, imposing, majestic. We spotted them from very far away, towering over the rest of the vegetation. Alone, in small groups, or in forests, our trip allowed us to see hundreds of them! Mainly on the west coast. All different—bald, hairy, shaggy, short and stout, tall and thin, like Laurel and Hardy. Philippe took to naming them. Respectfully!
OUR FAVORITES:
· The variety of landscapes.
· The Tsingy NP.
OUR DISAPPOINTMENTS:
· The Avenue of the Baobabs, very overrated and the only place where we saw crowds. We saw many other "forests" of baobabs that were much more impressive.
· It’s hard to approach the population calmly as swarms of children run up as soon as we arrive, asking for sweets. Without any aggression, their smiles and laughter quickly made us forget this small inconvenience. We never gave out candy, clothes, or money. We left pens at a school and clothes with Faly.
IF WE WERE TO DO IT AGAIN:
· Same period, same duration, same pace, same itinerary, but if we were to do it again today, I’d go through Faly directly!
· Maybe we should’ve stayed in Ambalavao instead of Fianarantsoa.
· Plan a longer loop in the Great Tsingy—it felt a bit too short.
MISCELLANEOUS:
The welcome: ‘Samala Vazaha,’ there are many, many kids, sometimes overwhelming, never aggressive. We were impressed by the villagers’ smiles and good humor, towards us or even among themselves—laughter was everywhere.
Safety: No problems. Out of (excessive?) caution, we spread all our money across several bags that we padlocked whenever we left the hotel.
Bribes: We were stopped several times on the road by police or gendarmes. They checked our papers, sometimes our passports. Faly was perfectly in order. No discussion, no bribes, a cordial greeting from the officers.
However, several times we found ourselves at small "tolls" on the tracks for villagers who had leveled the road or filled a hole, or for the young guy who ran through the river to show the way... Faly complied without discussion: every service deserves a small bill.
Language: French is still widely spoken.
Credit card: Unused.
Cash: You need it!
The climate at this time: Ideal—blue skies, sunshine, and mild temperatures (20-25°C) throughout our trip. Temperatures started to drop by our departure—winter was setting in.
Clothing: T-shirt or polo and a vest sometimes in the evening, sandals on our feet, hiking shoes for all the hikes.
Tip: We left a bag in the car (completely safe) with things we didn’t need daily and dirty laundry. The two bags to take out at each stop were much lighter.
Before leaving, we left several polos and T-shirts with Faly, which, once washed, will make a few people happy.
Tourist crowds at this time: Low—we were sometimes the only guests at the hotel. Faly explained that at the Isalo picnic site, in high season, you have to queue for a table, whereas we had our pick.
Photos: Lots! Too many! That’s the problem with digital—we take so many!
Health issues: Nothing serious, just the usual mild traveler’s diarrhea.
Mosquitoes: They’re voracious. We took anti-malaria treatment. I’m still not sure if it was the right thing to do... I’m always very skeptical about such precautions.
Internet: Free Wi-Fi at the lodges’ reception (except at Hôtel Kanto!), sometimes (rarely) in the bungalows.
Phone: We didn’t try to get a local SIM card—the evening Wi-Fi was enough for us to make calls and send messages via WhatsApp. Make sure to turn off mobile data and switch to airplane mode (I activated it a bit late—received calls, spam ones at that, were charged...).
Electricity: French plugs.
Personal purchases: Beautiful wooden objects (sculptures and marquetry) or zebu horn items in Ambositra. 1 kg of vanilla (400,000 Ar – 80 € per kg) in Tana.
IN CONCLUSION:
A trip of contemplation. A pause for admiration, as our local guide in Isalo NP said. Nothing else to do but walk, look, and enjoy. Here, there are no old stones, no museums—it’s a trip where nature reigns supreme. And what nature!
I’m starting a travel journal about the amazing round trip I took in August 2022 with a big circuit through the US West.
Here’s what I posted on another travel forum back when VoyageForum hadn’t yet regained its freedom. 😉
Hello!
We got back yesterday in the middle of the afternoon, and here’s a quick first take on the 2022 round trip.
Has America changed? You could say that, yeah. For better? For worse? Who knows.
A massive circuit—nearly 8,000 kilometers, actually around 5,000–6,000 miles.
Round-trip flights went smoothly, except for Air France on the way back, which let a rather large dog in the cabin with an owner who let it roam around the plane. Cool, Air France... Outrageous!
The rough itinerary: Salt Lake City. Jackson Hole–Grand Teton. Yellowstone. Cody. Rock Springs. Moab–Arches–Canyonlands. Monument Valley. Grand Canyon. Bryce Canyon. Zion Park. Las Vegas. Death Valley. Mammoth Lakes. Tioga Road. Mariposa. Yosemite Valley. San Francisco.
Tourists on site—a sociological study:
Italians: Always nice but just as loud as ever!
Hispanics: Same as the Italians, just a different language.
Germans: *Ein, zwei, ach mein Gott!* Order and discipline!
Americans: Still no manners whatsoever. Pathetic. I’m only talking about the tourists, not the locals who work there.
Quebecers: Pure joy!
English-speaking Canadians: Same as the Americans.
Asians: For the Japanese, it’s perfect. But the others from the Middle Kingdom... Let’s not start a war over this. There’s already Ukraine going on. And yet...
Israelis: Still no manners. The Kibbutz kids are the bane of this country.
French: Some excellent, some very good, some good, and some... not much.
Note that tourists in the northern part of the trip were much better behaved than those in the south. "Hello," "Goodbye," offering a hand? Etc. Few Asians in Grand Teton and Yellowstone. Lots of locals. The same goes for hotel staff in the northern part—more attentive. Really cool!
On the other hand, we were pretty surprised not to encounter any African-American locals in Montana, Wyoming, Utah, or even Arizona—whether tourists or employees. It’s quite striking, to be honest.
The Hotels:
Holiday Inn - 206 South West Temple, Salt Lake City, UT 84101, United States.
A modern but soulless hotel. Basically, a place to pass through. Minimal breakfast.
Miller Park Lodge - 155 North Jackson Street - Jackson Hole, Wyoming.
Not a hotel but a luxury motel. 750 € for two nights!! No breakfast. Huge room where you could hold a tea dance!!
Well-located. No staff.
Only room of the month-long stay that was fully redone during those two days.
Best Western Weston Inn. 103 Gibbon Avenue, West Yellowstone, MT 59758
Well-located, not far from the park entrance. Minimal breakfast. Friendly staff.
Room refreshed every two days.
Best Western Sunset Inn. 1601 8th St, Cody, 82414-4134
Very good. Quiet. Good breakfast. Friendly staff.
Baymont by Wyndham 2717 Dewar Drive, Rock Springs, WY 82901
Very good. Quiet. Good breakfast. Friendly staff.
Too many pets that should be "not allowed." Hello, hygiene!
Wingate by Wyndham Moab. 126 South Highway 191, Moab, 84532
End of the "family" hotels. Start of the tourist hotels.
Too many pets that should be "not allowed." Hello, hygiene!
Minimal breakfast.
Hampton Inn Kayenta. US Highway 160, Kayenta, AZ 86033, United States
A stopover hotel run by the Navajos. Friendly staff wearing masks. Lots of people.
Too many pets that should be "not allowed." Hello, hygiene!
Minimal breakfast.
La Quinta by Wyndham Williams. 1100 Cataract Lake Rd, Williams, AZ 86046, United States
Finally, Route 66 for 500 meters!
The staff is there. Nothing more.
Too many pets that should be "not allowed." Hello, hygiene!
Minimal breakfast.
BEST WESTERN PLUS Ruby's Inn. 26 South Main Street, Bryce Canyon City, UT 84764, United States
A factory!!!
Great Hispanic or Romanian staff! A liquor store in the hotel! Awesome!
Very good breakfast, but go early because the crowd—and the jerks—are there!
Too many pets that should be "not allowed." Hello, hygiene!
BEST WESTERN Casino Royale - 3411 Las Vegas Boulevard South, Strip, Las Vegas
Good hotel at a reasonable price.
No breakfast, but Denny’s is next door.
Quiet hotel despite the casino. Friendly staff.
No memory of seeing any pets!
Shilo Inn Mammoth Lake. 2963 Main Street, Mammoth Lake
Disastrous! Ineffective security system. Fire doors propped open with wooden wedges.
Tiny breakfast room. No staff in the room. Tables not cleaned. Minimal breakfast.
Gross pool.
Rooms need work. No, the whole hotel needs to be redone. They say they’re renovating. They’d be better off tearing it down.
Too many pets that should be "not allowed." Hello, hygiene!
Very bad memory.
Apparently, there’s supposed to be staff in this hotel.
Quality Inn Yosemite Valley Gateway. 4994 Bullion Street, Mariposa, CA 95338
Hotel or motel? Booking should clean up its listings!
No room refresh! Minimal breakfast.
The staff is there. Nothing more.
Comfort Inn by the Bay. 775 Van Ness Avenue, Marina District, San Francisco
No room refresh in four days! Minimal breakfast.
Friendly and helpful staff.
Well-located. Depends on what for, but well-located.
And then there are those who steal apples from the breakfast to put in their bags in the morning, those who fill up their famous US water bottles with orange juice from the breakfast pump, those who don’t clear their tables—I could go on. And also, those who don’t say hello or respond to a greeting!
Met some super nice French people (in the northern parks)! They’ll recognize themselves!
And the magic phrase that opens doors with Americans: "Do you speak French? OK, good!" Laughter guaranteed!
Don’t try that with Asians who run souvenir shops in big cities—they have no sense of humor unless it’s about the color of the green bill.
The park rangers are always available! Great!
And 5,000 photos to sort and organize, plus a few hours of dashcam videos!
Well, here we go,
despite the lack of info on Zambia, I managed to pull off this pretty special trip.
I’d posted asking for tips but got very few replies. So I leaned heavily on Giradhino’s travel journal to plan the route.
The context:
After visiting Kenya, then Namibia, then Botswana, I wanted to see another Southern African country—hence Zambia.
This time, we’re two couples: us (of course) and our friends we’ve traveled with to the last two countries mentioned.
The idea was to do a self-drive trip, picking up a 4x4 at the airport and figuring it out as we went.
We rented our fully equipped vehicle from Hemingways, an agency in Livingstone. Great agency (really), I’ll talk more about them later.
It came with rooftop tents and all the gear for cooking and everything...
However, our goal was to sleep in lodges and only use the tents as a last resort. Mission accomplished—we never even unfolded the tents. Guess we’re getting old 🙂
The route (summary):
Lusaka - Kasanka NP - Bangweulu NP - Mutinondo - Kapishya - North Luangwa - South Luangwa and back to Lusaka.
That said, let’s hit the road for this travel journal of a pretty lively trip.
Reminder: I’m more of a filmmaker, so I’ve got tons of footage but very few photos. The ones I have were taken on my phone, so they’re not great quality. My wife’s the one who handles that side of things.
Day 1:
At 9 a.m. sharp (or close enough), we leave the Lyon area, heading to Paris CDG. Our flight’s at 9:30 p.m., but it’s a busy Saturday with holiday traffic, so we play it safe to avoid jams—especially since the Olympics (hosted in Paris, in case you didn’t know) are causing extra traffic issues.
We’re relaxed and happy to be on our way. The drive goes smoothly. We take the eastern route around Paris to reach a hotel with parking at a better price than the airport lots. We leave the car there, and a shuttle takes us to Terminal 2. Bad luck—we’re actually flying from Terminal 1! The transfer between terminals is quick, though, so no stress.
After the usual formalities (with Rwandair), we end up in the Duty Free.
A rare rant-free moment: Usually, I let off steam in my travel journals now and then, but this time it’s the opposite. I had a terrible memory of CDG and had been avoiding it for years. But this time—Olympics effect? A big change? What a pleasant surprise! The staff were plentiful and super friendly at every pre-flight step, making everything easier. Comfortable seats for waiting to board. Well done, CDG!
We buy Ricard, Jack Daniel’s, and Get 27 to handle any situation that might come up.
We board on time, and that’s when our adventures with Rwandair really begin. Yep, the first hiccup!
We’d booked our tickets back in October and (since we don’t hold back!) had paid extra for preferred seats on all our flights.
Since October, we’d received emails about schedule changes—just a few minutes here and there.
Unfortunately, we never got an email saying that *on top of* the schedule change, the plane’s configuration had also changed.
So when we boarded with our seats (all four of us together at row 25), we were furious to see that the preferred seats were now row 23. We’d been *completely* scammed. We’d paid extra to end up in seats we’d been trying to avoid!
You could say Rwandair double-dipped on the same seats. What a rip-off!
We tried to negotiate an upgrade, but the flight was full.
So our flight to Kigali started with a real sense of anger.
Alright, this year, we're heading back to South America!
The initial plan was to retrace the route we imagined in the summer of 2020: a trip to northern Argentina starting from Córdoba.
Unfortunately, the flight to Córdoba no longer exists, and airfares to Javier Milei’s country are both outrageously priced and involve multiple layovers.
So, I tweaked Google Flights every which way and finally found a flight within my budget—departing from Clermont-Ferrand!
Not to Argentina, though...
Our transatlantic flight will cross the snow-capped Andes, landing in Santiago, Chile, with a return from Lima!
In between, two domestic flights and a big road trip loop starting from the coastal city of Arica to explore the treasures of northern Chile.
Our mode of transport: a pseudo 4x4 that won’t take us through sand dunes or devilish tracks but will let us tackle the entire secondary network, including unpaved main roads, while still being insured.
Is the suitcase packed with all-season clothes?
Are the driver’s license and passport ready?
Bank cards and a few euros too?
Off we go for just over 3 weeks of southern wanderings!
--/--
To keep all my esteemed readers on track, here are a few maps outlining the Arica-Arica loop!
1- From Arica to San Pedro de Atacama via Pica and the Salar de Huasco
2- Around San Pedro
3- From San Pedro to Cariquima
4- From Cariquima to Putre
5 - From Putre to Arica
Gas stations in this part of Chile are located in Arica, Iquique, Pozo Almonte, Pica, Calama, and San Pedro de Atacama.
I'm starting my first travel journal since VF reopened!
This will mostly be to share my impressions and some photos, with a few days' delay, but I'm starting this journal while I'm still here.
First, I'd like to thank those who helped me prepare for this trip.
I was able to organize this stay in one of the most expensive countries in the world thanks to the home-exchange principle. Not necessarily a direct swap, but through a points system, which is more practical for choosing where you want to go without it having to be a reciprocal exchange.
For this trip, there will already be two different accommodations. We'll see how it goes after that.
The first place is near Yverdon-les-Bains, close to Lake Neuchâtel.
So, we're going to explore this area!
We arrived under capricious weather that won’t leave us for the next few days!
We had dinner at a pizzeria recommended by *Le Routard* in Yverdon, then took a little nighttime stroll through the town center before heading inland to settle into our accommodation.
We discovered a very large, quiet house—and especially the cat that stayed behind! Funny for a couple of mice! He’ll be sleeping with us 😹
Before I begin, I’d like to thank Michèle Buisson and her "Misha’s travel journals," which really helped me plan this trip. It’s tough to find information about this part of India, which is quite different from the "more traditional India." I’m so grateful to her for introducing me to a family who hosted me for 4 nights and 3 days. I can’t wait to return the favor and welcome you all to my place in early July!
Thursday, March 20th.
The alarm goes off super early, but I’m already awake—I was too worried I’d sleep through it. I leave the house at 4:00 AM. The rain has stopped, and at this hour, there aren’t many trucks on the road. I arrive at Barcelona Airport easily by 6:20 AM, let the valet know I’m there, and he quickly picks up my car.
This time, I’m flying with Etihad Airways again. I booked the ticket during my trip to Cambodia: Barcelona/Kolkata, Delhi/Barcelona for 567 €. At that price, I didn’t hesitate for long—I knew I had to take it. And I’m glad I did because, by the time I returned, the price had gone up to 700 €. I can already hear the reactions: "Wow, how’d you get a ticket for that price? What site did you use? You’re amazing, MarieJo!" One thing’s for sure—I’m really happy with this deal.
The flights from Barcelona to Abu Dhabi and Abu Dhabi to Kolkata go smoothly, and we arrive on time at 2:55 AM. There aren’t many people at immigration, so I get through quickly. My luggage isn’t on the carousel yet.
After collecting my bag, I check in for my next flight with IndiGo, a 5:40 AM flight to Guwahati, arriving at 7:00 AM. I’m starting to feel pretty tired, so I take a taxi from the airport to Gruham Sojourn Homestay. The house is upstairs, and the neighborhood seems quiet, with restaurants lining the street. The room won’t be ready until 10:00 AM, so I rest on the bench in the meantime.
Once in the room, I take a shower—it really helps me feel refreshed. I need to exchange some euros, so I look up a nearby exchange bureau on Google and head out to find it. I locate it easily, and the staff are super friendly. I get a great rate (1 € = 90 INR).
I wander around the neighborhood. The train station isn’t far, and small markets line the streets.
I head back to my area, walking along the main avenue. About 500 meters from my street, I discover a museum. The visit is fascinating—I see the famous Majuli masks, among other things.
I’m not far from the Brahmaputra River, and the temptation to visit is too strong to resist. I’d hoped to find a promenade along the river, but that doesn’t exist here.
I walk back calmly and notice several restaurants in my street. On the doorstep of my accommodation, I spot a pastry shop with cakes that look more like the ones we have in France than the typical ones here in India. A visit is a must, and I’m not disappointed!
Tonight, I’m dining at a restaurant in the street. The menu is a bit disappointing—burgers, pizzas, pasta—nothing very Indian. So, I’ll go with tomato pasta.
Hi there,
In spring 2023, I headed to Romania by motorcycle. I’ve been going there for over 20 years—by car, bike, and plane—and I’ve really fallen for this country. I feel so at home there. The big difference this time? I had all the time in the world, no constraints at all.
I left the Paris region (IDF) and headed for the Sundgau, avoiding the motorways. I know a little hotel tucked away in the countryside there.
The next day, I followed the Swiss border on a small road along the Lucelle River, which acts as the frontier. Around a bend, you cross to the other side and then back into France—kind of fun.
I crossed Switzerland via the motorway—I know the route well, so no sightseeing. I arrived in Austria, which I also know pretty well, and took the Arlberg Pass. It was deserted, everything was closed, and there was still snow.
The weather wasn’t great—it was raining—so I stopped for the night at a remote inn. Perfect for drying off!
I set off in the rain the next morning and kept going. Gradually, the rain stopped. I took a detour through the Trentino-Alto Adige region and the Sella Pass. Up there, it was rain, snow, and a bit of black ice in a tunnel (wind + rain + sub-zero temps = skating rink).
I arrived in Burgenland to see the famous giant glass-and-metal grape cluster, the largest in Europe. The region is hilly, full of tiny roads, and covered in vineyards.
Burgenland
Then into Slovenia.
I stopped for the night at a winegrower’s B&B perched on a ridge straddling the Croatian border. The welcome was fantastic—I spent the evening with the owners and their friends who arrived later. The white wine was amazing!
The next day, I hit the road again.
I headed for Vukovar, on the Danube, a symbol of resistance during the Balkan War. I found a really comfortable B&B by the river and stayed for two nights to explore.
What a strange monument!
I visited the water tower, which you can go inside—it’s riddled with bullet holes. There’s an exhibition inside.
I also checked out a museum of equipment used during the Balkan War. Since it’s in a barracks, it’s guarded. I asked if I could bring my motorcycle in, and a Croatian officer came to meet me and gave me permission, along with a sticker to put on the bike.
I met some fellow bikers from Marseille riding beautiful vintage bikes.
I left Vukovar following the Danube toward Serbia. The rain caught up with me. The roads were busy, with construction causing mud everywhere and crazy truck drivers. At one point, I cut through the construction zone! I stopped for coffee in a village—it had a *Deliverance* vibe. Total silence when I walked in, and the owner gave me a suspicious look. Finally, the Romanian border... and the sun came out! The Romanian customs officer asked if I had anything to declare. "Yes—just happy to be back in Romania!"
I stopped for the night at a *cabana* (mountain hut) lost in the forest. Chaos ensued—a tourist! So they rushed to get supplies, quench my thirst, give me a room, and then the owner took charge: țuică (plum brandy), omelette, beers... Everyone bent over backwards to make me happy.
I love these Romanian roads!
I passed through Băile Herculane, which isn’t as beautiful as it once was—everything’s run-down. What are they waiting for to restore this *Mittel Europa*-style spa town that’s still active?
I stopped at the birthplace of Constantin Brâncuși.
Keep your eyes peeled on the roads!
Via the Jiu Valley, I arrived in Craiova to visit my in-laws. A few days of laughs and outings. I picked up my wife at the airport.
My favorite brand
We took a trip to Horezu, a village famous for its beautiful ceramics.
After those few days together, I dropped my wife off at the airport, and the next day, I set off for Dobrogea, a region split in two after the war with Bulgaria.
The road was dull—flat as far as the eye could see—but the sun was out. I followed a military convoy of about fifty vehicles, with orders not to overtake.
I stopped by the roadside for some homemade *ciorbă* (sour soup).
That evening, I stopped in Călărași. The next day, I crossed the Danube by ferry. There are two ferries—one goes to Bulgaria, the other stays in Romania.
A priest on board came over to bless the motorcycle, the rider, and the ferry.
I arrived on the other side with some traffic.
Dobrogea
It’s like that all the way to the Bulgarian border—no restaurants, hotels, or gas stations, just old collective farms. And it’s the same in Bulgaria!
I stopped at Adamclisi, site of a major battle in Moesia (now Dobrogea) in 101–102 BC, one of Trajan’s most important Dacian Wars.
An oasis in the agricultural steppe.
I arrived at the Bulgarian border.
A customs officer—built like a weightlifter, shaved head, thick neck, and as square as a truck—saw me take this photo and came over to ask me to delete it. I did... but I didn’t empty the trash!
The weather turned stormy. I arrived in Balchik, a resort town where the last queen of Romania, Maria, used to vacation.
The Black Sea and the Bulgarian coast
The weather wasn’t great, so I headed back to Romania to follow the coastline.
Constanța and its casino
Then came the seaside resorts—just as ugly as each other: Neptun, Mangalia, Eforie Nord, Eforie Sud.
I stopped at a B&B near the Danube Delta, in some random village. The welcome was nice. The next day, I headed for Dunavățu de Jos, the last stretch of tarmac in Romania. After that, it’s the Danube Delta. The area is flat and sandy, with typical houses featuring reed roofs.
Now, I’m following the Ukrainian border. I passed the last active quarantine station in Europe. I came across a funeral procession—it’s customary to honk as you pass. If you’re on foot, you cross yourself. When I arrived in Galați, it was raining. I boarded the ferry in a downpour. On board, we were packed in like sardines. As soon as the ramp hit land, the drivers rushed out, revving their engines and honking. I let them go and exited calmly.
I continued toward the Székely Land. These are Hungarians who, back in the day, were border guards for the king. They’ve kept their own script (it looks like runes), their flag, and their independence streak. For them, Romania is Hungarian, despite the Treaty of Sèvres in 1920. There are still clashes between Romanians and Székely Hungarians now and then. Since I speak a bit of Romanian, I used it—logical, since it’s the language there—and it put everyone in a good mood!
Székely flag
I passed through Bicaz Chei, arriving via one of my favorite kinds of roads. During a break, a bear came to check me out from a distance.
Bicaz Chei
I arrived at the "Heart of Jesus" monument, built by public subscription to thank God for sparing the village from severe flooding.
Now, I’m heading west—next stop, Transylvania, with the in-laws.
On the road
Roma house
Bozorka—a Hungarian specialty... 450 grams of meat!
I made it back to France without any issues, already thinking about my next trip. Actually, I just got back from one!