Pourquoi je retourne à Skoura d’ailleurs ? C’est pas logique car j'en venais déjà… Pour rappel, je vais à Skoura pour une bonne raison. Si vous vous souvenez de mon petit désagrément du deuxième jour avec la perte de mon argent et de mes moyens de paiement, je gardais encore un espoir que quelqu’un le retrouve. Et finalement, hier Mohammed m’appelle pour me dire qu’il avait retrouvé ma sacoche avec mon cash, qui était tombé sous le lit au fond. C’est le seul endroit où je n’avais pas regardé. C’est vraiment adorable de sa part d’avoir cherché mon numéro et de m’avoir appelé, quelle honnêteté. Cette bonne nouvelle me donne le sourire pour la journée. C’est en plus avec plaisir que je retourne au gite la Palmeraie de Mohammed, où l’ambiance familiale est vraiment particulière.
A la base, j’avais prévu d’aller dormir à l’Oasis de Fint, tant pis. Ce sera pour mon prochain voyage au Maroc, il faut bien en laisser pour les prochaines fois, car c’est sur je reviendrai à M’Hamid pour marcher dans le désert, c’est une certitude. Et plus longtemps !
Avant de partir, Michel le canadien et moi faisons un stock de sandwich au thon à l’épicerie de M’Hamid. Pour 25 dirham, on repart avec 3 demi pain rempli de thon à la tomate, un repas simple mais efficace pour tenir toute l’après midi de voiture.
Dans ce post, je mettrai quelques photos prises sur la route, notamment de véhicules anciens que je trouve très intéressants car devenus si rares en France.
Après un peu M'Hamid, un camion de marque "Berliet"
Une très belle dame, la fameuse 4L en bleu et plutôt en bon état
Avant le premier col après M'Hamid, un panneau singulier.
Et on verra bien les dromadaires, en train de ruminer sur le bord de la route.
On s’arrête une première fois au croisement pour la dune de Tinfou un peu avant Zagora où je repère une jolie carcasse de 2CV colorée plantée là dans le désert.
Il y a aussi une réplique du panneau « Tombouctou 51 jours » peint sur le mur de la Kasbah (caserne de police?), on fait les touristes en se prenant en photo à côté.
Encore un camion Berliet. Le chauffeur sera super fier que je prenne son beau camion en photo, il fera exprès de s'arrêter pour que je le prenne correctement et nous fera un signe.
Une Peugeot (modèle ?)
Encore une autre Peugeot ?
Un vieux camion Mercedes ou Peugeot (j'ai oublié) qui sert de transport collectif.
Laissons un peu de côté la mécanique et revenons maintenant aux beautés naturelles du Sud marocain. Le paysage est splendide autour du Drâa. Les arrêts photos permettent de se dégourdir les jambes, cela allonge le temps de trajet, mais la lumière de fin d’après midi est tellement tentante…
Lever de lune sur les kasbahs de la vallée du Draa.
Reflexion parfaire de la montagne dans le fleuve.
Puis on repasse devant les points de vue de l'aller. La lumière est plus basse à cette heure-ci et on refait quelques arrêts photos, notamment avec cette montagne verdatre après Agdz.
Le paysage aride entre Agdz et Ouarzazate.
Le canyon déjà photographié à l'aller.
Cette fois ca y est, les amandiers sont en fleurs et cela promet pour les prochains jours.
Un peu avant Ouarzazate, on prend une piste pour avoir un beau point de vue sur des formations rocheuses étonnantes.
La piste est faisable avec la 208 mais un fort coup de vent rempli l’habitacle de poussière, tout est instantanément recouvert d’une fine pellicule de poussière brunâtre.
Je plains vraiment celui chez Hertz qui va devoir laver le véhicule, la poussière s’est faufilée partout, j’essaye de l’enlever sur le tableau de bord au moins car je ne vois plus très bien… (finalement le gars qui fait la réception chez Hertz m'a demandé d'aller la faire nettoyer chez Afriquia pour 50 dirham plutôt).
Par contre la vue est vraiment belle, encore une fois on trouve un air d’Ouest Américain au Sud du Maroc.
Un nomade avec ses chèvres nous surplombe, il doit se demander ce que l’on fait là avec la 208 au milieu de nulle part.
Ce jour, je n’aurai pas eu de chance avec la voiture par contre. Outre avoir rempli l’habitacle de poussière, il m’est arrivé deux autres petits incidents que je vous raconte ici. D’abord, ébloui par le soleil, je ne distingue pas le panneau rond sur le bas côté, je continue mon chemin à bonne allure en regardant devant comment passer la zone de travaux, puis au dernier moment, je vois deux hommes en uniformes sur le bord de la route, c’était en fait un contrôle routier de la gendarmerie royale comme il y en a beaucoup dans le coin. Je freine au dernier moment, le résultat est pas discret du tout, les pneus crissent je m’arrête en catastrophe au niveau du gendarme qui bien sur me fait signe de m’arrêter sur le bas côté avec un air mécontent. Je l’ai bien mérité. Il me dit d’abord que je roule trop vite et ne regarde pas la route, c’est dangereux. C’est vrai il a bien raison. En fait je me trouve tellement bête que je vais complétement dans son sens avec un grand sourire, je suis comme un condamné qui accepte déjà de recevoir sa peine et n’attend plus que le verdict, que j'imagine implacable. Finalement, le gendarme me demande si j’habite au Maroc, comment on trouve le pays, si on passe du bon temps avec un ton très gentil, il faut peut être décrire la vision que le gendarme sous ses yeux dans la voiture à ce moment là : un français rougi de soleil, avec un cheich bleu vissé sur la tête façon touareg et de la musique nomade à fond dans l’autoradio (le CD gravé à M'Hamid), il doit trouver la situation amusante et finalement il nous souhaite une bonne route et nous laisse partir. On a eu de la chance…
Mais nos ennuis ne sont pas finis. Alors que l’on passe une énième zone de travaux, où une des voies est condamnée, je me rabats un peu trop tôt sur ma voie pour laisser passer la voiture en face. Un peu trop tôt… Je vois au dernier moment (et oui encore une fois, et pourtant je n’ai pas de problème aux yeux, c’est juste que l’on a souvent le soleil rasant en plein face sur cette portion de route) un pieu en métal qui dépasse des graviers. J’évite de rouler dessus, mais il passe sous la voiture en faisant un bruit d’enfer. J’ai peur d’avoir arraché quelque chose, ou casser le pot d’échappement ou pire percé le réservoir de carburant. Je m’arrête sur le bas côté pour voir les dégâts, heureusement il n’y a rien qui coule du réservoir et le pot d’échappement semble bien attaché. Néanmoins, le cache du moteur à l’avant est bien marqué.
On repart en faisant maintenant super attention à ces zones de travaux, qui vont se succéder jusqu’à Ouarzazate.
Finalement les deux fois on a eu plus de peur que de mal. Par contre la voiture n’a pas aimé tous ces travaux, depuis un certain moment déjà il y a un bruit sourd métallique survient à chaque bosse, comme si un amortisseur avait été abimé.
Nous arrivons en fin de journée à Skoura, la nuit tombe. Bien épuisés par la route, nous sommes comme éteints. Mohammed nous voyant ainsi a de la peine pour nous alors il nous installe auprès du feu pendant que le diner se prépare. On rencontre un couple d’Autriche et un couple de Français du Sud Ouest qui se joignent à nous face au feu, avec qui on sympathise pendant le repas.
Je retrouve Mohammed qui me donne la pochette qu’il avait trouvé sous le lit. C’est un soulagement pour moi, un grand merci à lui !
A suivre...
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
Bonour Damien !
je continue de regarder avec grand plaisir ton carnet !
les photos sont toujours aussi belles !
lors de mon séjour en février 2015 , je ne suis pas allée jusqu'à M'hamid , je pense que la prochaine fois j'irai !
je me suis arrêté un peu avant et puis j'ai repris la route entre Zagora et Foum-zgid ...les montagnes étaient roses de fleurs !
sur la route nous avons rencontré des gendarmes à tous les croisements , ils avaient l'air de tellement s'ennuyer que nous avons vite compris qu'ils nous arrêtaient plus pour discuter que pour vérifier nos papiers !
c'était assez drôle car ma soeur conduisait parfois et elle n'avait même pas son permis (oublier chez elle ) mais en retrouvant la "civilisation " vers Agadir , il a bien fallut que je garde le volant ...et j'ai eu droit à un radar entre Tiznit et Agadir ! pas de discussions la !😕
Je repense à la première fois ou je suis arrivée vers l'erg Chebbi ... une seule nuit magnifique , des étoiles plein les yeux !
un peu frustrée sur le retour je me suis dit aussi que j'y retournerais ...ça fait 20 ans environ !
j'y reviens chaque année ...et je n'ai pas tout vue encore !
bienvenue dans le club des amoureux du Maroc !
francia
le mérite d'un homme réside dans sa connaissance et dans ses actes et non point dans la couleur de sa peau ou de sa religion!
Khalil Gibran
Bonjour
Un grand "spleen" en regardant tes messages et surtout les photos de ces sites que j'ai déjà pu visiter.
Très sympa la façon de nous décrire tout cela et merci à toi.
Par contre une précision "capitale" !!!
Tes vieilles guimbardes, ce sont des Renault, par contre R 11 ou R 12, je ne m'en souviens plus ?? Mes vieux neurones ne s'y retrouvent plus.
Normalement, je refais un tour fin d'année, comme la première fois, de novembre à février/mars.
Pardon, j'ai cliqué "répondre" à Songhai mais c'est bien à Daming que je m'adresse.
"Il vaut mieux faire des enfants quand on est vieux, on les em...de moins longtemps (Desproges)
Bonsoir,
J'ai effectivement trouvé la police très cool avec les touristes. Les deux fois où j'étais en infraction et que j'ai été arrêté, cela s'est bien passé. Peut être parce que je ne contestais pas et assumer le fait d'être réprimandé.
Je pense que je serai obligé d'y retourner car j'ai promis à mes enfants de les emmener, et ils ont une très bonne mémoire hehe, et si j'oublie ils me le rappelleront. Mais c'est sur que pouvoir rester au moins deux jours à l'Erg Chegaga permet de s'éloigner dans cette mer de sable, c'est vraiment génial. Clairement ce que je ferai la prochaine fois.
Je rejoins le club avec plaisir ;-)
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
Bonjour Alain,
Merci pour ton message.
Je ne sais pas du tout quels sont les modèles car pour la plupart je n'en ai jamais vu en vrai... Ou alors je ne me souviens plus. Elles étaient bien jolies ces voitures en tout cas, avec un style tranché.
Peut être que des spécialistes pourront nous aider.
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
Jour 9 : Toundoute et vallée de l'Ounila jusqu'à Télouet
Aujourd'hui je continue ma route vers le Nord, en direction de ma destination finale, Marrakech. Mais puisque je suis revenu à Skoura, je décide de faire un détour pour voir la vallée de Toundoute à une vingtaine de kilomètres au Nord de Skoura. En fait c'est Mohammed qui la semaine précédente avait conseillé à des voyageurs d’aller voir les amandiers en fleur. Il y a une semaine une partie seulement des arbres étaient en fleur, donc je me dis qu’avec la chaleur des derniers jours, c’est le bon moment pour aller voir cela. D'autant plus que la veille on avait déjà vu plusieurs amandiers fleuris sur la route.
En une demi heure, je me retrouve dans le village de Toundoute.
Toundoute est un petit village avant la route de montagne, niché dans une vallée aux couleurs encore une fois irréelles.
J’ai de la chance car aujourd’hui la plupart des amandiers sont en fleur et le blanc des fleurs donne un magnifique contraste avec le rouge des montagnes et des habitations.
La zone n'est pas très grande, mais le point de vue depuis la route sur la vallée vaut le détour en cette période de l'année.
Ici aussi les montagnes ont des formes bizarres, ici elles ressemblent à un mille feuille ou les couches de pierre ont été empilées les unes au dessus des autres tout en épousant le relief.
Une vieille kasbah écroulées bordant les plantations.
Cette semaine, on est vraiment dans la meilleure période pour les amandiers. En plus, les fleurs embaument l'air de leur parfum.
Je suis content d'avoir fait ce petit détour avant de remonter vers Marrakech. Toundoute est complétement hors des sentiers battus visiblement et pour ceux qui sont motorisés en tout terrain la route continue au delà du village.
Prochaine étape, la remontée de l'Atlas par la vallée de l'Ounila.
A suivre...
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
"Je suis content d'avoir fait ce petit détour avant de remonter vers Marrakech. Toundoute est complétement hors des sentiers battus visiblement et pour ceux qui sont motorisés en tout terrain la route continue au delà du village."
On peut poursuivre sa route en voiture de tourisme bien au-delà du village de Toundoute, c'est goudronné jusqu'à Assaka Cantola, à une bonne vingtaine de kilomètres de Toundoute. Et c'est grandiose. Je me régale chaque fois que je fais cette promenade. Les villages de terre et de pierre accrochés à flanc de montagne. C'est très beau. Les oueds sont géants.Et si en plus, on a la chance de le faire quand les amandiers sont en fleurs, c'est génial.
Les photos sont superbes. Merci pour le partage.
Pour la suite de la journée, je reviens sur mes pas car je dois entamer le retour vers Marrakech. Je dois rendre la 208 demain en début d’après midi et je n’ai pas envie de faire la route d’un coup. Je décide donc de passer par la petite route de Telouet pour aller au col de Tizi n Tichka, ce qui me permet d’éviter de reprendre la route de l’aller et de visiter une nouvelle vallée, la vallée de Ounila, réputée une des plus belles du Maroc.
Peu après Skoura, j’entends un bruit bizarre sous la voiture. A mon avis, c’est une séquelle des routes en mauvais état pour aller à M’Hamid. Je profite d’une pause à la station service Afriquia pour demander si je peux utiliser le pont et voir vraiment si il n’y a pas des dégats qui remettraient en question ma montée sur les routes sinueuses de l’Atlas.
Je préfère détecter un problème proche de Ouarzazate plutôt que perdu en montagne. Le mécanicien accepte de me laisser mettre la voiture sur le pont. Sous la voiture on voit bien le choc de la barre de fer, mais rien de suspect à première vue. J’essaye de répéter le bruit avec le mécano mais rien. Je reprends donc la route un peu plus confiant dans la voiture. Mais quelques temps après le bruit revient, je le localise au niveau de la roue arrière gauche, comme si l’amortisseur ne remplissait plus sa tache et que la caisse tapait directement sur chaque bosse. Le bruit m’accompagnera toute la journée.
Après Ait Benhaddou, je retrouve les amandiers en fleurs. Il y en a plein ici aussi dans la vallée de l’Ounila, leur couleur blanche donne un magnifique contraste, c’est peut être le meilleur moment de l’année pour parcourir cette route.
Je fais de multiples arrêts sur la route. Parfois je gare la voiture sur le bas côté, je marche un peu pour trouver un joli point de vue. il me faudra 4 heures pour parcourir les 60 kilomètres. La route est en bon état, et je ne croiserai quasiment personne.
On remonte la vallée, et les points de vue fantastiques se succèdent.
Une immense kasbah en ruine domine les plantations.
Une large palette de couleurs incroyables.
Ce village a une grande densité de maisons en pisé cubiques qui semblent empilés les unes sur les autres.
Ce sera le plus gros bourg que je traverserai.
Panorama sur la vallée et les montagnes ocres, ici la mosquée est peinte en blanc.
La route zigzague à flanc de montagne.
Un panneau indique un panorama sur la vallée. je gare la voiture et marche jusqu'au bord de la falaise, la vue est grandiose. Il faut faire attention à ne pas tomber dans le vide, il n'y pas de barrières.
Plus loin, je trouve un autre point de vue où la rivière a creusé un canyon.
Les villages sont accrochés à la falaise.
Par rapport aux autres routes de la région, c'est vraiment grandiose. Je trouve cette section de 60km vraiment magnifique. A chaque virage, on tombe sur un nouveau panorama.
Ici les roches ont des teintes vraiment rouges impressionnantes.
Là un village qui domine la vallée.
A suivre...
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
bonjour Damien !
j'ai les mêmes photos que toi en remontant la vallée de l'Ounila 😉
mais les tiennes sont tellement plus belles !
la Kasba en ruine après Aït Benhaddou c'est celle de Tamthart , elle était magnifique il y a 20 ans avec plein de nids de cigognes , la elle est malheureusement bien dégradée !
dommage , quelle patrimoine qui disparait !
voila le village avec la mosquée blanche , c'était en février 2015 !
tu es un pro-photo !
merci
francia
le mérite d'un homme réside dans sa connaissance et dans ses actes et non point dans la couleur de sa peau ou de sa religion!
Khalil Gibran
De très belles photos de la vallée des amandiers et de la vallée de l'Ounila. Deux très belles vallées de la région.
Je confirme ce que dit Daniel.La vallée des amandiers est accessible sans 4x4 bien après Toundoute.
Autre atout de Toundoute, son souk, le jeudi, je crois.
Encore deux paysages vus de la route avant de terminer en toute fin de journée.
La fin de la route avant Telouèt est en travaux. Mais pas trop de trous donc pas de souci en roulant doucement.
En plus le paysage est encore une fois étonnant.
Maintenant on évolue dans une large palette de couleurs, du rouge, du vert, du jaune et même du blanc, du sel ?
Clairement cette portion de route entre Ait Benhaddou et Telouet est tout simplement magnifique, c’est pour moi du même niveau que les gorges du Dades ou du Todhra, immanquable dans la région. Le meilleur choix quand on vient de Marakech est sans doute de descendre par la route principale et de remonter par cette route secondaire. C’est vrai que la route est beaucoup plus étroite et sinueuse mais dans le même temps, je n’ai croisé quasiment aucune voiture de l’après midi. Ce qui rend le voyage très paisible car on avance à son rythme tout en admirant le superbe paysage.
A Telouet je trouve un hotel à proximité de la Kasbah du Glaoui, dernier seigneur de l’Atlas, que je visiterai le lendemain matin.
Je prends le thé sur la terrasse face à la vue. On est ici en montagne, à 1800m d’altitude et cela se sent car l’air est frais.
Il y a même un petit chauffage électrique dans la chambre, génial c’est le genre de petit détail qui fait vraiment plaisir maintenant.
A suivre...
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
Jour 10 : La Kasbah du Glaoui et retour à Marrakech par le col du Tizi N Tichka
Dernière journée de roadtrip, cet après midi je dois rendre la 208 à l’aéroport de Marrakech. Avant cela, je pars visiter la Kasbah du Glaoui de Telouet, juste en face de mon hotel, le Lion d’Or. D’extérieur, on a l’impression que la kasbah n’es qu’un amas de ruines d’une grande batisse en pisé qui n’a rien de particulier avec les autres kasbahs. Pourtant, une fois à l’intérieur à l’étage, derrière les premiers couloirs obscurs en pisé, on tombe sur une partie restaurée et c’est vraiment impressionnant, tant de finesse dans la décoration !
D'abord on traverse la partie non restaurée de la kasbah.
Puis après un couloir on tombe sur de magnifiques pièces.
Je suis bouche bée.
Jeu de lumière.
Les pièces restaurées sont finement décorées.
La vue sur Télouet, la vallée et les cimes enneigées est pas mal aussi.
J’oublie de dire que je suis tout seul en plus à visiter le site, ce qui ajoute à la sérénité du lieu.
La Kasbah est vraiment une étape incontournable dans le coin, je n’aurai jamais cru voir cela car je n’avais vu aucune photo sur le net avant et le descriptif du Routard n’était pas très clair.
En fait, le passage par Telouet sur la route entre Marrakech et Ouarzazate lors d’un road trip me semble vraiment indispensable : la remontée de la vallée est majestueuse, et puis Telouet fait une étape parfaite pour couper la route tout en prenant le temps de visiter ce monument historique.
En fin de matinée je pars en direction de Marrakech. A Telouet, encore une voiture intéressante.
La route depuis Telouet jusqu’à la nationale est réputée difficile, mais je ne trouve pas. J’ai l’impression d’avoir vu bien pire depuis une semaine, là on ne rencontre quasiment personne donc c’est pas un problème que le goudron soit abimé car on peut éviter facilement les trous, la bande de goudron fait juste la taille d'une voiture. Par contre c’est sur que l’on roule pas vite, mais le paysage aux couleurs multiples dont ce vert foncé, mérite de prendre son temps.
Cette colline semble être recouverte de duvet vert.
Vue sur les sommets de l'Atlas, on est déjà à 2000 mètres.
La descente du col de Tizi N Tichka est vraiment agréable sur cette belle route toute neuve que j’avais déjà pris à l’aller.
On a presque l'impression de rouler sur un boulevard.
Mais c'est en fait une prouesse de génie civil. J'imagine la même route ici dans nos montagnes, cela n'existe pas (on a des tunnels toutefois).
Je vous raconte ici ma dernière péripétie... Un peu avant d’arriver à Marrakech, je double un camion très lent sur une ligne droite avec personne en face et manque de bol, au bout de la ligne droite il y avait un contrôle de police. J’y coupe pas et on me fait signe de me mettre sur le bas côté. Le policier m’explique mon infraction et me dit que cela va me couter une amende de 400 dirhams, je le suis dans son véhicule pour qu’il dresse le procès verbal. Au lieu d’essayer de me dédouaner, je lui dis que je l’ai bien mérité et que cela me fera une bonne leçon à mieux regarder si la ligne est continue ou pas, qu’il a bien raison de me donner une amende. Ma remarque le fait sourire, il me dit que pour cette fois il ne me donne pas d’amende car je semble avoir compris mon erreur et que je retiendrai la leçon. J’ai du mal à le croire mais oui il me rend mon permis et les papiers du véhicule et me souhaite un bon séjour au Maroc. Alors là je suis vraiment surpris, la police est vraiment pédagogique avec les touristes ici !!
Je retourne à ma voiture et continue mon chemin vers l’aéroport en faisant une extrême attention à tous les panneaux, car ça m’étonnerait d’avoir un coup de chance une troisième fois de tomber sur un policier sympa…
L’arrivée en ville est un peu difficile, après 8 jours dans la campagne, et tout cet afflux de véhicule plus ou moins standard, de la mule au camion surchargé sans oublier les deux roues qui se faufilent partout. Je conduis prudemment jusqu’à l’aéroport ou je rends la voiture avec le plein (150 Dirham) et nettoyée (50 Dirhams à la station Afriquia juste avant l’entrée de l’aéroport).
Aucune remarque sur la voiture, ouf ! Cette pauvre petite 208 m’aura bien amené partout, malgré des conditions routières pas toujours faciles. A mon avis, elle a besoin d’une maintenance après cette location, cela tombe bien le voyant « entretien » s’est allumé un peu avant d’arriver à Marrakech, ce que je fais remarquer innocemment au gars de chez Hertz. Le bruit sous la voiture n’est peut être pas inquiétant, mais ce n’est quand même pas très confortable d’avoir cette impression que la caisse tape la route sans amortisseur. J'espère qu'ils vérifieront avant de la relouer.
Je note la différence de kilométrage depuis mon départ il y a 9 jours : 1900km. Soit un peu plus de 200km par jour en moyenne quand même.
A suivre...
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
Pour me rendre au centre ville de Marrakech depuis l'aéroport, je prends le bus public plutôt que les taxis qui sont réputés peu honnêtes. De toute façon, le bus me dépose à la Place Djema Elfna là où se trouve l’hotel donc pas besoin de s’embeter.
En attendant le bus, je discute avec un touriste du Bangladesh qui visite pour la première fois le pays. Je l’aide à communiquer avec le chauffeur, qui parle français mais pas anglais car il ne sait pas comment rejoindre son hotel.
L’arrivée à Marrakech est rapide, l’aéroport est quasiment en ville (5km). La place est déjà grouillante de monde avec beaucoup d’animation. Grâce à mon GPS, je trouve le Riad que j’avais réservé par téléphone le matin même.
Un Riad très mignon, le Riad Dar Yammi, un peu en retrait de la place qui a une terrasse qui a une vue partielle sur Djema Elfna.
Pour cette fin de journée, le programme est léger : sieste puis découverte de la place, rien de plus. Après une bonne sieste, je pars sur la célèbre place me promener. Je monte sur une terrasse qui domine la place dans un café pour prendre un gouter. L’endroit est tellement fréquenté par les touristes que le café a trouvé un moyen original de faire consommer. Pour rentrer dans le café, il faut déjà se servir une boisson dans le frigo, payer à l’entrée puis s’installer. Le concept permet d’optimiser à fond les revenus issus de la super localisation du café pile à l’angle de la place.
La partie centrale de la place est en rénovation d'où le rectangle vide.
On la domine complétement, avec le minaret de la mosquée de la Koutoubia dans l’alignement.
Alors que je suis attablé et profite de la vue. Je fais la rencontre de Hanane et de ses filles, touristes marocains en provenance de Casablanca. Comme elles n’avaient pas de place assise, elles restaient debout dans le café alors je leur avais proposé de s’asseoir sur les chaises vides de ma table. Visiblement ma proposition les a beaucoup touchées, elles tiennent à m'offrir des gateaux marocains puis nous faisons connaissance. De fil en aiguille, nous resterons finalement ensemble toute la soirée à la table du café, à regarder le spectacle de la place tout en discutant de sujets passionnants. Une soirée mémorable, une des plus belles de mon séjour au Maroc. Tous les deux du même âge, la trentaine, nous avons parlé de nos vies, tellement similaires malgré que nous vivions dans deux pays à la culture différente, ses filles qui parlent français et ont un age proche de mes enfants m’ont posé pleins de questions sur la France, sur nos habitudes, c’était très drôle… C’est finalement la première fois du voyage que j’échange avec une femme marocaine.
Jour 11 : Promenade dans Marrakech
Dernier jour plein au Maroc, journée que je vais dédier à la découverte de Marrakech. A vrai dire, j’ai une première impression pas très positive de Marrakech, peut être parce que j’arrive du Sud marocain rural si serein et je tombe dans cette bouillonnante cité et haut lieu du tourisme.
Je décide donc de prendre le temps d’appréhender la ville en marchant un peu hasard et à regarder, tout simplement. Depuis la place, je pars en direction des Souks.
La aussi, je ne suis pas très emballé, il faut dire que je ne suis pas du genre « shopping alcoolique » du tout, et réellement les vendeurs et rabatteurs perdent leur temps à me proposer de regarder leur marchandise car je n’y vois aucun intérêt, même pas le fameux « plaisir des yeux ». Par contre, l’animation de ces ruelles, les mobylettes qui passent à toute vitesse, les ânes avec la charrette, les bousculades, le piétinement tellement il y a de monde… Je trouve la promenade bien agréable en faisant le tour du souk jusqu’à la Medersa et retour vers la place.
Je profite de la terrasse panoramique d’un café en face de la Medersa pour admirer la vue avec mon premier et unique Coca Cola du voyage. J’aime bien cette capacité d’adaptation des marques américaines qui stylisent leur logo dans l’alphabet local dans le monde entier.
Depuis la terrasse, on a une vue plongeante sur la mosquée et les toits de la Medersa, de l’autre côté sur la Médina et les montagnes enneigées de l’Atlas en fond.
Avec la brume aujourd’hui, on ne les distingue malheureusement pas très bien. C’est dommage car le contraste entre la ville rouge, les palmiers et la neige des montagnes est un peu un symbole de Marrakech.
Je visite la Medersa qui était une école coranique, la plus grande du Maghreb.
Les détails de la décoration du bâtiment sont saisissants de beauté.
Le moindre petit détail est travaillé et le résultat est superbe. A l’étage on peut visiter les appartements ou vivaient les étudiants.
En continuant ma promenade je m’achète pour quelques Dirham un pain rempli d’une boite de thon à la tomate dans une épicerie. C’est la valeur sure au Maroc pour un déjeuner sur le pouce. Je traverse la zone du Souk où les artisans travaillent le fer et font de superbes lampes et autres ouvrages magnifiques, pour le coup je suis enfin emballé par le souk, qui jusqu’à présent semblait être un alignement de magasins de souvenirs plus inintéressant l’un que l’autre.
Ici il y a vraiment un savoir faire, c’est impressionnant de voir la façon de travailler le métal dans des locaux tout petits.
Plus loin, je vois des artisans confectionner des fenêtres en bois. Le détail mérite que l’on appelle cela de l’ébénisterie tant ils s’appliquent à faire des colonnades torsadées et des motifs.
Cette zone de Marrakech a bien conservé pour le moment une activité artisanale et je veux croire que certains des produits vendus sur les étales des vendeurs sont bien du made in Marrakech, et qu’ils ont encore résisté à l’assaut de l’outil de production de masse chinoise qui avale tout sur son passage tant ses couts de productivité sont optimisés par rapport au reste du monde.
En milieu d’après midi je pars manger dans un restaurant recommandé par le guide du Routard. Ce sera mon seul restaurant du voyage, car jusqu’à maintenant j’avais suffisamment mangé le matin et le soir pour me contenter de deux vrais repas par jour et un encas en milieu de journée. Mais j’ai vraiment envie de manger des grillades avant de rentrer en France, donc je me suis laissé guidé par le Guide.
Je trouve un petit restaurant qui ne paye pas de mine dans une rue à proximité de la place jemaa el fna, l’entrée est toute petite, ce n’est pas du tout grand luxe à l’intérieur, des familles marocaines sont en train de manger. Je commande 200g de viande hachée grillée, on m’amène une assiette de salade de tomate, du pain et une sauce piquante, rapidement les grillades arrivent. C’est succulent et pas cher, merci le Routard pour l’adresse.
Je continue ma flânerie dans les rues de la ville, je reviens sur la place par la zone des calèches. Le soleil se couche derrière le minaret de la Koutoubia, cela fait un jeu de contraste intéressant.
Je prends mon temps pour regarder les saltimbanques de la place, je remarque que les familles marocaines se prêtent vraiment au jeu de tous ces amuseurs publics alors que les touristes (européens et asiatiques) semblent plus en retrait, appareil photo dans la main, mais ne rentrent pas trop dans le jeu. Les serpents ne sont vraiment pas mon truc, je préviens tout de suite les charmeurs de serpents qu’il ne faut pas m’approcher avec leur reptile car vraiment je vais pas être bien, je préfère regarder de très loin les cobras qui se dressent et attaquent un bout de tissu que leur agite le charmeur.
Le coucher de soleil arrive, embrasant les nuages qui voilaient le ciel de Marrakech aujourd’hui.
Je sors ma dernière pièce de 10 Dirham pour me prendre un jus de fruit frais à un stand et le boit tranquillement en regardant le ciel prendre des teintes rosées au dessus du minaret.
Un des nombreux vendeurs de fausses montres finit par m’aborder pour me refourguer une copie de toquante. Je lui dis qu’allant à Genève demain, c’est la pire des idées imaginables que de rentrer en Suisse avec une contrefaçon de montre, je doute que les douaniers suisses trouvent cela amusant. Ca le fait rire, et il reste à côté de moi, probablement en espérant que je change d’avis. Puis on commence à parler, je lui demande si il est Sénégalais, il me répond que oui comme la plupart des vendeurs de la place. Alors on échange sur son pays d'origine puis sur le Maroc, comment il vient ici, ses conditions, la France, bref ce jeune est vraiment super sympa. Je lui dit que je ne suis jamais allé au Sénégal mais que c’est un pays qui m’attire et que j’aimerai bien y voyager. Il me demande si j’ai déjà mangé Sénégalais, comme je réponds la négative il me conseille si j’ai le temps d’aller manger au restaurant sénégalais du coin. Demain je suis déjà parti, alors il me propose d’y aller ce soir. Bon allez pourquoi pas, les voyages servent bien à faire de nouvelles expériences et à se laisser porter par les rencontres et puis j’ai jamais gouté cette cuisine et les plats sont pas cher il me dit. On rentre dans le souk municipal qui se trouve juste derrière la place, il fait sombre, le coin est un peu glauque et sale, c’est ici que se retrouvent les vendeurs sénégalais qui vendent les copies, mais aussi ou certains saltimbanques font leur pause en achetant un thé à la menthe.
Une table, trois chaises, posés devant un local du souk, dedans un réchaud avec une marmite dessus, une cafetière, un frigo et c’est tout. Si j’avais été tout seul, jamais je ne me serai arrêté manger là, franchement.
Je prends un café et une assiette du seul plat possible, riz avec viande et légumes. La dame nous sert dans une gamelle en aluminium une grosse portion, et un café dans un verre en plastique. Le café est très sucré, pas trop fort, c’est pas mal du tout comme boisson. Le riz est bon avec les épices dedans, ma foi c’est bien meilleur que beaucoup des innombrables riz que je mange quand je vais en visite en Chine.
On discute de choses et d’autres, on se montre des photos du pays sur le téléphone, puis je tiens à payer l’addition pour nous deux, bien qu’il me dise que ce ne soit pas nécessaire, j’insiste, 23 Dirhams pour nous deux.
Soirée vraiment étonnante avec ce vendeur et ses collègues dans leur petite cantine, certains d’entre eux devaient peut être se demander qu’est ce que je faisais là… En tout cas, ils m’ont bien vendu leur pays et je pense que le Sénégal est arrivé dans mon trio de tête de mes souhaits de voyage, une idée à creuser !
En rentrant au Riad, je discute avec Karim le gérant du Riad, car j’avais une grande curiosité quant aux détails pour faire tourner une activité de Riad au Maroc. Non pas que je sois intéressé par ce type d’activité, je ne suis pas sur que je sois fait pour le business de l’hospitalité, mais j’avais plusieurs questions et Karim a été super sympa pour m’expliquer tout cela, c’est passionnant. J’avais choisi le Riad pour sa localisation, je voulais absolument être à proximité immédiate de la place Jema Elfnaa mais pour un tarif raisonnable, inférieur à 500 Dirhams. Le Riad Dar Yammi a été un bon choix, placé stratégiquement juste derrière la place avec une vue directe depuis la terrasse, la décoration est très jolie, tout ce que l’on imagine d’un Riad à Marrakech, et des jolies chambres… C’est l’hotel le plus confortable de mon séjour et cela fait vraiment plaisir pour conclure ce voyage, surtout dans une ville aussi fatigante que Marrakech.
Jour 12 : Retour à la maison
Aujourd'hui n'est qu'une journée de transfert. Dernier petit déjeuner gargantuesque au Riad puis je prends le bus pour l'aéroport depuis la place jemaa el fna (attention le bus met plus de temps au retour qu'à l'aller, il faut prévoir plus de marge). L'aéroport de Marrakch est magnifique, moderne et très efficace.
Je quitte le Maroc comblé de tous ces paysages incroyables, de ces rencontres simples, de ces diners simples, de ces nuits pleines d'étoiles, et pour sur ce n'était pas la dernière fois que je venais.
A suivre un récapitulatif plus pratique.
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
C'est vraiment chouette de l'avoir fait en épisodes ce carnet .....j'attendais chaque jour de voir !!!! bah nous allons éviter de faire ....le votre étant vraiment tellement exceptionnel ... en plus vous aviez un super appareil photo ..ou vous savez bien les prendre... peut-être les deux !!!! juste un ravissement au niveau l'écrit et de l'illustration.... vous transmettez bien de choses.
à vous lire encore sur cette destination ou d'autres!!!
Merci et encore Merci Damien pour ce super carnet 🙂
Vu que tu as rejoint le Club des Amoureux du Maroc, je vais te tutoyer😉
Tu as eu beaucoup de chances d'avoir ce super beau temps en plein hiver (2015 il me semble), le Maroc t'a fait là un clin d'oeil afin que tu y reviennes, la prochaine fois, certainement avec tes enfants...
Ravie aussi que tu ai aimé Marrakech car ce n'est pas le cas de tout le monde, bon nombre de touristes qui viennent pour la première fois à Marrakech, n'aiment pas pour 1001 raisons (...).
Moi, la seule chose que je n'apprécie pas à Marrakech, c'est les mobylettes dans le souk, personnellement, l'odeur et le bruit des pots d'échappements, ça me saoule !! Après, je reconnais qu'il y a un très bel artisanat "Made in Marrakech" ainsi que la cuisine marocaine qui ravie mon palais.
Quant à moi, je retourne au Maroc au moi de mai prochain et après t'avoir lu, j'ai vraiment hâte d'y être car j'adore le Maroc😊
J'avais en fait préparé la trame du récit chaque soir avant d'aller me coucher, ce qui fait qu'au jour le jour je n'avais qu'à rajouter quelques éléments.
Pour l'appareil photo, c'est un Olympus OMD - EM5 avec le tout plat objectif 14-40, c'est pas un foudre de guerre mais il a l'avantage d'être petit donc on peut le ranger dans la poche de la veste.
J'ai quand même mis un coup rapide de post-traitement avec Dxo pour ajouter un peu de lumière et reprendre parfois la balance des blancs, sans mettre des saturations aberrantes.
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
Merci pour ton message. Comme écrit plus haut, j'avais un Olympus OMD EM5, je l'avais acheté en 2014 mais il fait encore bien ce qu'on lui demande. Par contre très déçu pour les photos de nuit, car comme la visée est numérique puisque c'est un hybride, j'étais incapable de faire la mise au point correctement. Comme l'objectif est motorisé, je ne suis pas sur que les coups de vent dans le désert lui ont fait du bien, un nettoyage fin est prévu. Mes guides disaient que ca arrivait souvent que les appareils photos se coincent dans le désert après une tempête de sable...
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
Oui j'ai eu une super chance pendant ce séjour, mis à part le jour à Skoura (mais j'avais la tête ailleurs) et le dernier jour, mais ça tombait bien pour la sieste.
Il est vrai que le contraste entre la grande sérénité des villages du Sud et la grouillante Marrakech oblige à s'ajuster. J'ai donc fait une longue sieste pour récupérer des matins où je m'étais levé tôt dans le désert. Puis j'ai eu la chance de faire ces rencontres fortuites, qui rendent la ville bien plus humaine et chaleureuse.
Par contre c'est vrai qu'il y a une partie de Marrakech que je n'accroche pas, ce sont les empilements de magasins dans le souk qui vendent des souvenirs, qui est vu comme une attraction touristique dans les guides. Comme en général je n'achète rien du tout en voyage car je voyage très léger, je ne trouve pas d'intérêt personnellement. Sauf effectivement quand je suis tombé par hasard dans la zone où des artisans travaillent le fer, le bois et là franchement leur coup de main et leur patience est impressionnante.
Pour un prochain voyage au Maroc, clairement pour moi ce sera de nouveau le désert, mais plus longtemps, et les étapes que j'ai raté cette fois-ci.
Ou as tu prévu d'aller ?
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
Comme promis, voici un post un peu plus pratique. Peut être que cela pourra aider quelques voyageurs qui partent au Maroc en Février.
Ce que j’avais emmené et qui a été indispensable :
Doudoune très chaude : La doudoune Décathlon avec niveau maximum pour la chaleur, indispensable dès que le soleil se couche.
Tour de cou : Accessoire qui ne prend pas de place et qui m’a permis de ne pas attraper de rhume, car l’air est frais malgré que le soleil tape fort, il y a souvent un peu de vent et j’ai rencontré pas mal de touristes qui étaient tombés malade.
Sac de couchage (un 0° aurait été plus adapté) : Les sacs de couchages 0°C sont quand même bien plus cher que les 5°C. A voir en fonction de la tolérance au froid, pour ma part c’était un peu juste mais ça allait (grosses chaussettes sinon).
Bouchons d’oreille et masque pour les yeux : Les bouchons d’oreille c’est l’élément indispensable pour ne pas entendre le coq ou le muezzin ou le voisin de chambre un peu chaud. Le masque pour les yeux car les rideaux ont tendance à bien laisser passer la lumière.
GPS sur le téléphone (Maps.Me, gratuit et très détaillé) : Toutes les routes y sont détaillées, les points d’intérêts principaux, les hotels, et même les chemins de randonnées classiques.
Sous pantalon de ski: J’avais une version épaisse et une version light, les deux ont été utiles et je ne regrette pas l’encombrement car la nuit en montagne ou dans le désert, le froid n’a aucun effet avec ces vêtements.
Ce que j’aurai du prendre avec moi en plus :
Carte routière du Maroc : Pour avoir une vue d’ensemble du réseau routier et les points d’intérêt. Un bon complément au smartphone avec GPS, et on sait jamais si on n’a plus de batterie.
Crème solaire et Biafine (et oui même en Février) : Dans le désert en Février ou lors des balades en montagne, le coup de soleil arrive très vite et on s’en rend pas compte car on n’a pas la sensation de chaleur brulante. Finalement j’ai adopté le style local : manches longues même en pleine journée. Ca fait chaud mais au moins pas de coup de soleil ou de coup de froid.
CD de musique : A part aux abords des villes, il n’y a pas de couverture FM. C’est quand même plus sympa d’avoir de la musique lors d’un roadtrip, surtout de la musique locale.
Chaussettes de montagne: Pour le soir et le matin car on attrape vite froid par les pieds. Mais aussi deux paires de vieilles chaussettes pour marcher avec dans le sable le matin et le soir quand il est froid.
Chaussures ouvertes type sandales : Pour éviter de remplir ses chaussures de sables qui va rentrer jusqu’à ce qu’il n’y ait plus de place du tout entre le pied et l’intérieur et la sensation est pas agréable. Les guides avaient des chaussures type sandales à scratch de Décathlon. A mon avis le plus pratique pour le sable.
Un récapitulatif des hébergements dans lesquels j'ai logé. Finalement, je les recommande tous car tant en terme de budget que de confort ou de diner, il n'y avait rien à redire.
Chez Brahim, Ait Benhaddou: Recommandé par le Routard, à mon avis la meilleure vue sur le Ksar de tout le village d’Ait Benhaddou. Brahim est vraiment sympa et le diner très complet.
Gite La Palmeraie, Skoura : Une super adresse où l’on a l’impression d’être comme à la maison chez Mohammed. L’hotel se trouve au bord de la Palmeraie dans le centre de Skoura, on peut se promener à pieds depuis la porte du jardin et se perdre dans la palmeraie. Diner et petit déjeuner super bien, très bonne ambiance avec les autres voyageurs.
Auberge La Palmeraie, M’Hamid :De l’autre côté du pont, ambiance bivouac chez Brahim et son frère Mustapha. L’hébergement se fait sous tente nomade en dur, le coin est très calme et le soir il y a plein d’étoiles dans le ciel.
Auberge Ksar Telouet, Le Lion D’Or, Telouet : Situé juste en face de la Kasbah du Glaoui, l’hotel est recommandé par le Routard, sa terrasse donne sur une jolie vallée. A 1800m d’altitude, c’est une heureuse surprise de voir qu’il y a un chauffage électrique dans la chambre.
Riad Dar Yammi, Marrakech : Super bien placé à côté de la Place Djema Elfna, le Riad est tout ce que l’on peut imaginer d’un Riad à Marrakech, une jolie décoration, un patio avec une petite fontaine, une terrasse qui donne sur les toits de la Médina, la Koutoubia et un peu de la fameuse place. Climatisation et salle de bain bien équipée, cela fait du bien pour se reposer après les aventures du Sud Marocain. Sachant que l’on reste sous la barre des 50€ par nuit avec petit déjeuneur copieux. Le Riad étant récent, il n’est pas encore très bien recensé.
Enfin, voici le budget de ce voyage :
Avion Genève – Marrakech : 120€ sur Swiss Air, je suis toujours content de ne pas voler sur Easyjet ou Ryanair, que j’évite autant que possible par principe.
Location de voiture 10 jours : 150€ pour une 208 quasi neuve chez Hertz (rien à redire)
Assurance rachat de franchise pour 10 jours : 150€ pour avoir l’esprit tranquille.
Essence : 65€
Hôtellerie : 180€ pour 8 jours
Repas hors petit déjeuner : 55€ pour 9 jours
Trek dans le désert 3 jours et 2 nuits, transport Erg Chegaga et nuit à M’Hamid pension complète : 220 € (pas pu partager les frais car tout seul, en partageant les frais avec d'autres voyageurs, ce poste peut descendre énormément)
Frais divers : 50€
Total pour le voyage : 990€
Voici une vue de l'itinéraire:
Marrakech – Ait Benhaddou
Ait Benhaddou – Skoura
Skoura – M’Semri – Skoura (Gorges du Dades)
Skoura – Tinghir – Skoura (Gorges du Todhra)
Skoura – M’Hamid
M’Hamid – Skoura
Skoura – Telouet
Telouet – Marrakech
En tout, avec les détours compris, cela fait 1900km, vérifié sur le compteur de la voiture, je me suis arrêté trois fois à la station service pour un total de 680 Dirham de Diesel (9,40 Dirham le litre de diésel).
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
Dernier message de ce carnet, pour le bilan du voyage :
Conclusion
Comme l’a dit une voyageuse rencontrée sur la route, c’est comme si ce voyage avait eu une connotation initiatique pour moi. Prendre le temps de reflechir, penser tout en laissant en France les soucis du quotidien tant personnels et professionnels.
C’était aussi le voyage des « premières fois », en effet, c’était une première fois au Maroc, une première fois au Maghreb, une première fois en Afrique. En tant que voyageur solo, durant ces 12 jours j’ai surtout ouvert grand mes yeux et mon esprit à la découverte. Ce voyage dans une si belle région que le Sud Marocain a été rythmé par de nombreuses et belles rencontres.
Restons sur le rythme justement, tranquille, avec cette fameuse phrase souvent entendue : « celui qui est pressé est déjà mort ». En s’ajustant à ce rythme tranquille, sans stress, où courir semble être inutile, on s’apaise nous aussi et on prend les quelques désagréments inhérents au voyage avec philosophie.
Côté paysages maintenant, cette partie du pays fait la part belle au minéral : des montagnes aux roches colorées qui explorent toutes les teintes pastels et ocres possibles, de grandes falaises du désert de pierres noires, des dunes de sable blond.
Le pays est en tout cas une destination vraiment accessible pour une première approche du monde arabe et du continent africain. Le niveau de développement des infrastructures est somme tout très bon (l’aéroport de Marrakech est moderne), les axes routiers principaux sont en bon état, grâce notamment à tous ces travaux que l’on subit de temps en temps.
Et le nerf de la guerre ? Clairement le budget pour un voyage au Maroc n’est pas extrêmement cher, bien au contraire je me demande bien si on n’est pas au Maroc dans une des destinations les plus intéressantes en terme de rapport qualité prix au monde !
Tout cela donne envie de revenir, de déjà imaginer son prochain voyage à la découverte d’autres régions qui semblent tout aussi incroyable, l’Anti Atlas (Tafraoute) et le Nord notamment.
Ce que j’ai le plus aimé :
Les paysages toujours changeant sur la route du Sud, une incroyable palette de couleurs, le Maroc est un pays parfait pour un roadtrip
Marcher dans le désert, 3 jours c’est trop court, je rêve d’y retourner pour un plus long séjour maintenant
La nourriture saine, principalement à base de légumes et relevé avec juste ce qu’il faut d’épices
Tous ces échanges spontanés, que ce soit avec des touristes, des auto stoppeurs, des gens rencontrés sur les chemins, les maitres d’hotel
Ce que j’ai le moins aimé
La route entre Ouarzazate et M’Hamid est magnifique c’est évident, par contre la suite interminable de zones de travaux est très fatigante et au bout d’un moment l’attention baisse et c’est là que l’on est rappelé à l’ordre par la police.
Le bouillonnement de Marrakech dans la Médina est éreintant, j’ai eu un peu de mal à m’y faire et pourtant je suis plutôt habitué aux coins surpeuplés et pleins de bruit en Chine. Peut être que le décalage avec le calme du Sud Marocain n’a pas aidé, mais j’ai quand même du mal à comprendre comment on peut se reposer une semaine dans la Médina, pour moi c’est inexplicable.
Les sollicitations pour donner de l’argent sont quand même très fréquentes, ce qui dénature parfois le contact car on n’est pas sur que la personne nous aborde pour finalement demander de l’argent ou sans arrière pensée aucune. Néanmoins, avec une pirouette et le sourire, je n’ai pas eu de souci pour qu’on me force la main à donner. Sur la place jema el fnaa, on est beaucoup sollicité, ce qui pourrait être normal si on veut participer à leurs numéros ou prendre des photos moins si on est seulement en train de se promener tranquillement, alors la meilleure parade que j’ai trouvé était de demander aux saltimbanques de me payer 10 Dirhams pour une photo avec moi, un « authentique touriste français en vacances au Maroc » !!! Je sais pas pourquoi mais pas un n’a voulu … Et d’un autre côté, plusieurs fois des marocains m’ont aidé sans demander quoi que ce soit, le garagiste qui m’a laissé mettre la voiture sur le pont pour l’inspecter, le jeune nomade qui m’a ramené au bivouac à touriste, le sénégalais qui m’a montré son restaurant, etc.
Remerciements
Ce voyage a vraiment était une très belle expérience, au delà des magnifiques paysages admirés chaque jour, je retiendrai aussi toutes ces rencontres avec d’autres voyageurs au fil des jours. C’est peut être cela l’avantage du voyage en solo, on est plus ouvert vers les autres et finalement on est pas vraiment seul, bien au contraire.
Je tenais à remercier particulièrement tout ceux qui ont enrichi mon voyage de leurs échanges qui peut être me liront ici et désolé d’avance à ceux dont je n’ai pas retenu le nom, je m’en veux :
Brahim de l’auberge d’Ait Benhaddou, Serenna et son mari les routards chinois de Guangzhou, Mohammed du Gite la Palmeraie, Pierrot et Béa d'Auvergne, Muriel de Lyon, les deux jeunes couples de français rencontrés à Skoura, Brahim et son frère Mustapha de M’Hamid, Martine, Mustapha et Mohammed guides dans le désert, Kriton et sa mère de Bâle rencontrés à Chegaga, Michel le Québécois avec qui j’ai fait la route de M’Hamid à Skoura, le jeune couple de profs français à Skoura, Hanane et ses filles à Marrakech.
Fin.
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
Bonjour
merci Damien !
c'était un beau voyage que de te suivre en image ...
la prochaine fois ( car je pense qu'il y en aura une avec ta famille😉 ) fait une pause à Tamnougalt ! visiter le coin et la Kasba ... c'est plus reposant !
Marrakech , comme toi , après l'avoir visiter au début de mes séjours , j'évite !
il te reste encore bien d'autres endroits magnifiques à découvrir : L'anti-Atlas , les routes du sud , l'oasis d'Amtoudi , et puis la côte magnifique ...
En tout cas tu m'as vraiment donné envie d'aller à M'Amid voir les dunes de Martine 😏
si tu passes vers "mon lac " n'hésite pas à me contacter !
on pourra papoter du Maroc ! attention je suis bavarde !😉
bon weekend !
francia
le mérite d'un homme réside dans sa connaissance et dans ses actes et non point dans la couleur de sa peau ou de sa religion!
Khalil Gibran
Merci pour le conseil car effectivement la prochaine fois je chercherai à faire d'autres étapes.
Je te contacterai en MP quand je passe vers le Bourget ;-)
Damien
Carnets de voyage sur la Chine et Asie sur mon blog
Merci et bravo pour ce carnet au jour le jour. Heureusement qu il y a des gens comme vous! Il m' a été très agreable de vous lire.Moi je n'ai aucune envie de me connecter sur internet lors de mes sejours. Je suis rentrée hier.... Merci encore.
En fait, pour toi, "tout est bien qui fini bien...", et ce, en tout et pour tout (sacoche perdue/retrouvée, compagnons de voyages...), et en plus, sous le soleil.
Encore une fois, tu as eu beaucoup de chance pour ce 1er trip au Maroc, sans vouloir parler au nom de ceux qui ont lu ton récit : ça nous fait plaisir !
Ton carnet est clair, précis et il comporte toutes les infos pour permettre à un "novice" de faire son premier voyage au Maroc.
De mon côté, je suis déjà allé jeter un oeil sur deux adresses (Skoura & Marrakech), l'une & l'autre on d'excellents commentaires sur Tripad.
Pour ce qui est des gens qui demandent de l'argent, je ne donne de l'argent qu'en échange d'un service, mais jamais pour faire plaisir.
Comme je te l'ai dit au tout début, le Maroc fut il y a bien longtemps, mon tout premier grand voyage, c'était à l'époque d' Hassan II (milieu des années 80') et mon périple en voiture de location m'avait beaucoup plu. J'y avais aussi rencontré des compagnons de voyage sympas. Il faudrait que j'arrive à me décider pour faire un trip en voiture, mais je me voit mal conduire au Maroc.
Oui, le Maroc est un pays où le coût d'un voyage reste peu élevé et, si en plus, on aime le pays visité (habitants, paysages, cuisine excellente, climat...), alors on devient amoureux du Maroc.
Je sais que beaucoup diront qu'on ne dois pas comparer un pays par rapport à son "rapport qualité-prix", pour moi personnellement, difficile de faire autrement.
Je m'explique : après avoir pris un petit déjeuner pantagruélique (crêpes 1000 trous & autres), je n'ai pas faim ni à 12, ni à 14h. Alors, le soir, je m'installe à la terrasse du Toubkal (ma cantine lorsque je vais à Marrakech) pour y manger un couscous au poulet/tajine qui me revient à 2.80 euros ou 3 eur, sans oublier le jus d'orange à 4 dhs même pas 0.40e.
Surtout, ne va pas croire que j'aime le Maroc que pour sa cuisine, loin de la (quoi que j'y mange une quantité énorme de pâtisseries que j'adore), j'ai la chance de manger ce que je veux sans prendre un gramme alors, je ne me prive pas😉 En plus comme tu as du t'en rendre compte, c'est un pays très dépaysant à moins de 3h de vol, pour moi, il n'y a pas photo, c'est direct le Maroc !
Pour répondre à ta question : en mai je serai de retour à Marrakech pour quelques jours.
Cordialement et encore merci pour toutes ces infos et supers clichés 😉
"Dénouement de ma petite mésaventure en début de séjour maintenant : A ce moment là, je reçois un SMS d'un numéro de portable marocain : "C'est Mohammed, il faut que tu viennes à Skoura, rappelle moi URGENT". Comme j'avais mon téléphone dans la main car j'étais en train de faire un test de vidéo, je rappelle donc immédiatement le numéro du SMS.
C'est Mohamed du gite de la palmeraie de Skoura qui répond, je reconnais tout de suite sa voix. Il me remercie de l'avoir rappelé rapidement. Il m'explique que cet après midi, des clients avaient réservé une chambre alors il voulait les mettre dans la chambre dans laquelle j'avais logé. Avant l'arrivée des clients, il était aller faire un tour de la chambre pour voir si tout était en ordre. Il me dit qu'il regarde toujours partout pour voir si il n'y a pas quelque chose qui ne va pas. Et là, il a trouvé quelque chose de bizarre.
Un truc bleu tout au fond, dans le coin des murs, sous le lit dans une zone d'ombre. Le genre d'endroit bien caché. Il attrape ce truc bleu, c'est une petite sacoche zippée. Il l'ouvre et tombe sur une liasse de billets et une carte bleue avec mon nom dessus. Il descend dans son bureau et cherche mes coordonnées que j'avais laissé lors de la réservation. Et voilà, il m'envoie un SMS il y a quelques instants..."
Vous êtes chanceux, vous êtes tombé sur la bonne personne.
C'est le moment de jouer au loto...
Merci Damien pour ce magnifique retour tellement bien illustré.
Les photos sont superbes, la vallée des amandiers, avec de telles couleurs, un tel éclairage, c'est extraordinaire.
Bonsoir, je viens de finir de lire votre compte rendu, c'était vraiment super sympa ! Je vous rejoins sur le fait de passer plus de temps dans le désert, j'y suis allée il y a 4 ans, j'avais fait 5 jours de marche dans la région d'ouled Driss, j'en garde un souvenir magique, et comme vous de nombreuses photos de sable 😛😏
Cette fois, nous y retournons en avril, avec nos enfants. Nous irons depuis Marrakech vers ouarzazate, Skoura, les gorges du Dadès et Todra, et retour par la vallée de l'Anergui. J'ai hâte, vu les paysages que vous nous avez montré.
Merci.
C'est un peu long d'arriver jusqu'à Anergui, la route n'est pas toujours en très bon état mais les paysages sont magnifiques. C'est géant. On avait passé quelques jours chez Hamou Chriffi, dans son petit gîte. Un accueil chaleureux ! Un grand souvenir ! On y était pour la fête du mouton. L'hospitalité marocaine prend tout son sens chez Hamou.
Superbe carnet de voyage. Le Maroc dans toute sa splendeur.Tout y est, les paysages, les lumières, les rencontres. Et à souligner , la grande honnêteté de Mohamed à Skoura. Il est important de le dire, aujourd'hui, tout le monde doute de tout le monde...Voilà qui nous rassure . Merci pour ces témoignages et pour ces photos pleines de lumière.
Merci Damien.
J'ai pris beaucoup de plaisir à lire votre carnet. Et beaucoup de plaisir à voir les photos. Résultat :une grosse envie de faire un saut au Maroc.
Un premier regard et des photos splendides , nous avons été gâtés entre Daming et Diamina deux regards neufs sur ce Maroc quî nous attire tant tous autant que nous sommes sur ce forum .
que dire ! c'est du top avec des photos extra....
chaque année je fais un petit "raid" de 8 jours au Maroc dans ce style , ça va me donner quelques idées....
mais c'est bien dommage que les Français ont désertés, il suffit d'aller au Maroc pour ne pas le regretter...
Bonjour.
Je n'ai lu qu'une partie de votre carnet sur mon pays le Maroc;et jai tout de même eu envie de vous en féliciter et remercier .
Alors, merci et félicitation.
Votre carnet me donne un autre envie: celle d'écrire un carnet sur la Chine.
Voici un planning des posts avec les liens pour ceux qui ne veulent pas lire tous les posts; j'en ai profité pour corriger les chiffres des étapes dans…
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Du 21 mars au 3 avril 2016, j'ai eu la chance de découvrir (avec un pote) le sud Maroc pendant 13 jours, et profiter des paysages absolument fabuleux que nous…
I’m sharing a little recap of this new 4-week trip to China—nothing fancy, just my experience.
We’re taking advantage of the extended visa exemption to return to China for the 4th time. I loved last summer’s trip so much that I’m a bit worried about being disappointed this year. Plus, I’ve had a few hiccups before this departure: my WeChat account got blocked, and I couldn’t recover it (luckily, Alipay still works fine); I couldn’t verify my 12306 account for weeks; Trip.com failed to book our second train; and I’ve got an injury that’ll slow me down during the trip... Ugh, I hate starting a trip with these kinds of issues. Then, oh surprise! Just before leaving, my 12306 account got verified! Super easy to use from that point on—I could book a few train tickets without fees.
We’re sticking with Free’s e-SIMs, which work great in China.
August 2–3
Anyway, on the morning of August 2nd, we took the RER to CDG. As usual, we couldn’t check in online. It’s always a bit frustrating, especially since we didn’t have any checked luggage. We flew with Air China. We arrived at the check-in counter at 9:50 AM, 2 hours and 40 minutes before the flight. The line for our check-in stretched 300 meters across the airport in both directions. What a joke!! We spent 1 hour and 45 minutes in that line just to reach the counter and get our boarding passes. By then, it was 11:35 AM, and boarding had already started at 11:20 AM. The screens showed a 25-minute walk to our gate—on the other side of the airport, of course—plus we had to go through passport control and security... Long story short, the plane didn’t leave without us 🙂 We boarded among the last passengers, and we took off at 12:30 PM. We’d flown Air China four times before, but this time, it felt *really* low-cost. The check-in chaos, the cramped seats (12 seats per row), no music by artists known outside China, mediocre food, and a boarding area at Beijing Airport with only 10 seats—worthy of Ryanair or EasyJet. And yet, the price was sky-high. Again, D.’s vacation requests were denied outside of July and August, so we’re traveling from August 2nd to 30th. We couldn’t have picked a worse time for inflated prices, and with the situation in Iran, we got hit with a 390 € fuel surcharge. I’ve never paid so much for flights—I felt like I’d bought business class, but nope, far from it!!
We landed in Beijing around 4:15 AM. It was 28°C with thick fog. We drove and drove and drove for 20 minutes, as usual in Beijing. Then we went through a first check, a second check, a third check, and waited for our connecting flight at 6:40 AM. A small Airbus A320, but way more space than in the Boeing 777 from the first flight. We landed in Kunming, Yunnan, around 10:15 AM in the rain.
We headed to the subway. You can’t pay at the machines with Alipay here either, so we set up the transport QR code directly in Alipay to scan at the subway gates. The process is a bit long the first time if you haven’t entered your info before, but once it’s done, it’s *so* much easier! We took Line 6 to the terminus for 6 yuan each.
We’d booked a hotel nearby, on the 16th floor. It’s actually studios on different floors of a huge residential building. The view’s pretty nice from here. We settled in quickly—back to those wooden beds, or rather, mattresses as hard as wood, which we *hadn’t* missed...
Then we went out for our first bowl of noodles of the trip and wandered through the shopping streets of the old town.
It was crowded, and the weather was cool—around 19–20°C. We tried a local specialty: milk skin, thick, dried, then grilled with rose jam. Yeah... we won’t be having that again. The taste and texture of the milk skin... no thanks.
We saw a lot of wild mushroom hotpot too. It’s on our list for later. We also passed through the Jinma and Biji gates, where I played with reflections in puddles. I *love* doing that 🙂
At the end of the day, we headed to a temple advertised as open 24/7 on Amap. Of course, when we got there, it was closed. We’ll go back tomorrow. That was the first of many disappointments with Amap this trip—I hadn’t had that issue on previous visits.
We were exhausted after that sleepless flight. Night was falling, and we decided to grab a quick bite without much appetite. We shared a delicious vegetable fried rice for 12 yuan—we even left half of it. The portions are *huge*.
After a couple of small purchases, we headed back at 9 PM, wiped out, after walking 17 km between the airports and these first steps in Kunming. I expected to see quite a few Western travelers here, but we didn’t spot a single one. Instead, we met lots of curious Chinese people, many of them super friendly and helpful—almost *too* eager, like when they’d run to serve us as fast as possible. It’s a bit much, but it’s great to be back!
Hi everyone, we're back from a DIY USA road trip we organized from July 31, 2026, to August 26, 2026.
The destination: The Southwest USA, including Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico. Roughly 7,000 kilometers covered.
The car: A Chevrolet Equinox for two, rented through BSP Auto and Avis. Inside, we had 2 suitcases, a travel bag, two carry-on bags, a Walmart cooler, photo gear, and water bottles (a 40-pack).
The route: Dallas DFW, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Alpine, El Paso, Tucson, Sedona, Albuquerque, Amarillo, and back to Dallas to finish with a departure from DFW.
The travelers: Two seniors well advanced in years (73 and 75) but still active (nothing too physically demanding—to stay alive and fund our trips), fully independent physically, though a bit less so mentally. Big USA fans, a country where anything is possible. More walkers than hikers, preferring 3-star hotels over roadside motels, Italian restaurants over US food, frequent stops for photos, museums over nothing, naps over forced marches. Not too whiny, just enough to stay French in the land of the "great Satan," as they say.
Not great with languages—street English (but handy), and my Spanish is non-existent except for: "Hola! Una cerveza por favor!" That’s about it. My wife understands everything but refuses to speak.
The cost of the road trip: Around 12,000 €, including AF flights, the car, gas, gifts, visits, and everything else. Well managed, since we’d budgeted 13,500 € initially.
The positive side: A delight, with those endless open roads. Museums to discover. The realization of the Hispanic presence and its important history in this part of America. Lovely locals. Tourists who were more or less friendly. A terrible Texan accent that was hard to understand. Gas stations that were like real stores, with prepared food, alcohol sold in Arizona and New Mexico, and employees who were always up for a laugh!
The negative side: The heat throughout the trip... 43°C in Dallas at the end. Impossible to walk the streets. Lots of homeless people in downtown Dallas. Hotel breakfasts that were always the same. You get used to it.
So, it was positive overall, but the concept is starting to wear us out. We might rethink the DIY road trip model for next time. If the man upstairs grants us more time.
Next up, we’ll wait for the first batch of sorted photos to go through the wringer.
"So, my little wanderers, back at the decks? What’s this mystery destination you’ve got in store for us at the start of the year?"
Yes, the schoolyard bell’s ringing again! We’re hitting the road... or rather, the skies! At first glance, our destination might surprise more than a few. First off, simply because I was here exactly twenty years ago, and I don’t usually like retracing my own footsteps. Secondly, because the name of this place screams mass tourism—basically the opposite of what Flo and I look for.
Despite that, in this land of backsheesh, I’d promised myself I’d come back one day to experience it my way. And since Flo told me, during our wanderer chats, that this destination straddling Africa and the Middle East was in her top 2 travel dreams, the stars aligned for this roots-style trip to quickly make it onto our pharaonic festivities program! Unless you’re totally clueless in general knowledge, you’ve probably guessed by now—we’re off to Egypt! Of course, a few classics will be on our itinerary, but above all, we want to soak up a culture that can’t be appreciated in four-star resorts or on a Nile cruise boat. And let’s be clear, these next two weeks won’t be a walk in the park—neither for our two daughters who are joining us, nor for our bodies!
And that’s clear from the get-go: after our first flight, eight hours of trying (and failing) to sleep on Milan airport’s metal seats, our second flight, landing, passport stamps, our Uber ride, and our first Cairo kilometers, we finally drop our exhaustion at the little guesthouse we booked in Giza. Doesn’t all that energy deserve a little reward?
Oh, absolutely! And here it is: a full-on slap in the face for everyone! But just look at this view from our hotel terrace? For 20 € a night for four, even with this incredible view, I figured the room must be pretty shabby, right? Nope... Is the staff rude, then? Nope... Okay, so what’s the catch? You’re gonna tell me breakfast is included too? Well, yes! Honestly, this Egypt trip is off to a great start.
And the rest of the afternoon, spent rubbing shoulders with locals, only confirmed this vibe. After digesting our pyramid view, we dove into the hustle and bustle of our neighborhood with the goal of exchanging money, eating at street stalls, and testing the hospitality of the locals. Ten out of ten!
Eight little sun breads with baba ganoush and falafel? 80 pounds, or 1.5 €. A dozen Middle Eastern pastries? Same! 80 pounds! Two hawawshis, those little pita breads stuffed with meat and spices? 10 pounds each, or about twenty cents! Not to mention all those smiles and free "welcomes" left and right!!!
What a welcome! We end this first day with a sunset over the three sisters of Giza—where we’ll obviously be gawking tomorrow...
It was winter, a winter with beautiful weather,
A season that only exists in the southwest of America,
I remember very well what I told you that morning
A month ago... A century ago, an eternity ago...
We’ll go... wherever you want, whenever you want...
Well, yeah, back from our adventure in our enchanting American West just a month ago, we’re already taking a bite out of one of its lesser-known competitors. "Flo, if you had to pick just one reason to justify your love for the U.S., what would it be?" The greasy, dripping burgers? No, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by saying it’d be the wide-open spaces... And that’s exactly what our new quest is taking us to—a land on the other side of the globe where the horizon also seems endless, where silence tastes like salty wind and sand, where freedom is measured in kilometers of desert tracks, where the GPS is mostly there to confirm you’re lost in the middle of nowhere... Add to that magic formula the fact that you’ll see more zebras, giraffes, wildebeest, and elephants than people per square kilometer, and you can imagine us setting foot in Southern Africa for the first time, more precisely at the small airport in Windhoek, capital of... of...? Brush up on your geography, damn it! We’re landing in Namibia!!!
To be honest, Namibian landscapes have been flirting with me for ages. So how did I resist this island of temptation for so long? First, the budget. Let’s just say that for the same amount of effort (and kidneys), the bank lets you choose two other adventures almost anywhere else on the planet. Then there were my girls. Yeah, back then, they were too little to dose up on Malarone, the only malaria remedy at the time... Long story short, ten years later, all the planets have aligned. First, I won the Euromillions! Well, almost... Let’s just say my girls are now old enough... not to take Malarone, but to stop following me on all my adventures! Jackpot! "Flo, how about a little two-person caprice, just the two of us, tackling the Namibian tracks?"
As we landed on the runway, first wow effect: The horizon is immense. It’s flat as can be, incredibly flat... So much flat space! Did I mention it was flat?... Looking into the distance, it feels like your gaze could circle the Earth without hitting a single obstacle—until you end up staring at your own backside. "Oh, what a nice view!" Well, it’s the first time I’ve seen my butt from this angle! Touching moment... Sorry, I’m rambling—must be the exhaustion from the three-flight marathon we just powered through via Ethiopia and South Africa... And yet, no time to philosophize about my anatomy. As usual, we want to rack up our first kilometers to be front and center at dawn tomorrow. After wrapping up the tedious Namibian immigration formalities and meeting the 4x4 that’ll be our companion day and night for the next fifteen days, we’re off! We’re not exactly fresh, but we’re ready to tackle the next five hundred kilometers in night mode, cruise control set due south! Just outside Windhoek, the local wildlife—a jackal—welcomes us with a smile: "Welcome to Namibia!" That’s what it said! Honest... Okay, first endless straight road, first flaming sunset, first corrugated dirt track, first Milky Way with zero light pollution... You get it—it’s definitely the day of firsts... First night camping, too, in the big trunk of our Toyota Fortuner parked by the side of the track... The real adventure, the kind that smells under the arms, can finally begin...
I hope this travel journal might interest some people, but since we were completely self-sufficient (tent, sleeping bag, pot, cooking over a wood fire…) almost every day, I don’t have many hotel addresses or great restaurant tips to share! Sorry!
We used the Maio map at 1:50,000 scale. It’s part of the Boa Vista/Sal/Maio map. Bought on Amazon, but currently unavailable as of the latest news.
The people of Maio are extremely welcoming and warm, and we were always more than well received in the villages where we pitched our tent!
We’re usually big hikers, but since Maio is a beach island (gorgeous ones, at that!), we alternated a few hours of walking in the morning with some relaxation in the afternoon: beach, reading, fishing, resting…
1 euro = 110 escudos
Day 1 (Friday) Transfers by plane: Fogo-Praia-Maio
We opted for the plane to save some time on transfers, as the boat connections between Fogo and Praia take a while, and those between Praia and Maio are almost nonexistent.
You should budget around 40-50 euros per flight per person.
There are 2 flights per week between Praia and Maio—on Tuesdays and Fridays when we were there (January 2016), but currently on Mondays and Fridays.
A bit of a delay leaving Praia, but we arrived on Maio without any problems around 4 PM.
We took an *aluguer* (shared transport, 200 escudos per person) to the center of Vila do Maio, but it’s totally doable on foot with a backpack.
Since it was already a bit late, for this first night, we dropped our bags at Big Game Maio. A standard European-style hotel run by a very nice Italian family. It’s a bit pricey for us (5500 escudos for 2 people with breakfast), but after our 2 weeks in a tent on Fogo, we were happy to find a little comfort. And the breakfast is ultra-generous, with fresh products (cured ham, fruit, cheese, bread) and top quality. The hotel restaurant offers dishes that are a clever mix of Italian and Cape Verdean cuisine. Excellent!
Little tip: We didn’t try it, but Big Game Maio offers big-game fishing trips, diving, and quad rentals.
The hotel is 2 minutes from Vila’s beautiful beach, and we went for a dip at sunset and took a stroll around town. They’re redeveloping the waterfront with pretty sidewalks and light stone walls.
Vila beach
Sunset behind Santiago
Day 2 (Saturday): rest day + fishing
After 2 weeks of hiking and since Vila is such a peaceful place where it’s nice to take your time, we decided to spend an extra day there. We took the path heading south along the coast to reach Ponta Preta beach in 20 minutes. The path isn’t very pretty because there’s quite a bit of construction going on, which prevents you from really walking along the shore. Lots of real estate agencies, especially Italian ones, have taken over the land. But Ponta Preta beach is a stunning black-sand beach where we had the whole place to ourselves. We decided to go fishing from the rocks.
At 1 PM, the sun was blazing, so we headed back to Vila and dried the fish for the following days.
At 6 PM, we went fishing again, but this time at night from the rocks at the end of Vila beach.
8:30 PM: back to shower and eat at the restaurant.
The rocks and sea at Ponta Preta
Day 3 (Sunday): from Vila do Maio to Calheta de Baixo, via Monte Batalha (path 101) Hiking time: 5h
Since there aren’t many “summits” on Maio, we decided to head to Calheta de Baixo but via Monte Batalha. We left at 8:20 AM and somehow made it to Monte Batalha by 11 AM (2h40 of hiking). But the path is really hard to find in the middle of the dry grass and acacia trees. We kind of cut through randomly, aiming for the summit. Even though it’s not very high (around 300 m), the view is amazing—you can see all of Maio at 360°!
Short 30-minute break. The descent through the “forest” of acacias is even worse for finding your way. We oriented ourselves a bit by the sun to find the road connecting Vila to Calheta. We arrived around 1:30 PM at Calheta de Baixo. A very pretty little seaside village with colorful houses. An idyllic beach, a newly renovated square, and super-friendly people. We pitched our tent facing the sea on the terrace of an abandoned house (after asking the locals for permission).
We cooked some of the dried fish we’d caught the day before, along with fresh beans we’d brought from Fogo (and were still carrying!).
At the summit of Monte Batalha
Calheta
Calheta de Baixo
Day 4 (Monday): From Calheta de Baixo to Morrinho on foot. Hiking time: 3h. Then hitching a bus to Cascabulho, and a car to Pedro Vaz.
We left around 9:30 AM heading north (path 201), following the coastline where the beaches just keep coming—each one wilder and more beautiful than the last: Praia de Soca, Calheta Braca, Ponta de Pau Seco, Calhetina. We reached the dunes of Baia de Santana. There’s no real path, so you have to follow the coast, then go around the dunes, and when you spot the 3 coconut trees, head east toward them to find the track leading to Morrinho. Again, we discovered a village with a Wild West vibe, with colorful houses lined up on either side of a paved road. Just enough time to accept a drink offered by a local before jumping onto the passing school bus that took us to Cascabulho. There, we waited for a ride. A political delegation of 10 cars drove right past us without stopping. Luckily, one of the cars had a flat tire and came by 30 minutes later—and that one, thankfully, gave us a lift! They were heading to the inauguration of a water pump in Pedro Vaz. So that’s where we stopped too. After getting permission from the school principal, we pitched our tent in front of the village school… and became the attraction for all the kids who kept us company until nightfall! A woman gave us 2 jugs of water, but with all that company, it was tough to take a peaceful shower!!
Dinner: pasta with beans.
We were woken up by rain during the night and had to rush to bring all our stuff inside the tent!
The beaches just keep coming...
The dunes
The 3 coconut trees, a landmark to find the track
Day 5 (Tuesday): Rest day and fishing at Boca da Ribeira beach
We packed up at 8 AM because the kids had school. We filled the 2 water jugs that the woman lent us and headed down to camp at Boca da Ribeira beach, which is a bit further east of Pedro Vaz. It took less than an hour to get there. This time, we really were alone in the world! We pitched the tent and spent the day fishing, reading, playing, and swimming regularly because the sun was beating down hard!!! We caught a nice fish that we grilled over the fire in the evening. With the crabs and shellfish we gathered, we made a seafood rice! Yum! What a feast!
That night, once the tent was zipped up, we felt something like rain on the tent fabric. I decided to go out and gather our things, and then—shock!!! It wasn’t raindrops we were feeling and hearing, but bugs attracted by the light!! Not just a few bugs—a huge swarm of them!!! Thousands of bugs covering the whole tent, the ropes, slipping into the seams and hems! Everywhere! The blue tent had turned green!!! After that, it was a real struggle to get back inside without letting any in! A real challenge, and there were always 3 or 4 that managed to sneak in anyway. Total war!!!
Boca da Ribeira beach
Day 6 (Wednesday): From Boca da Ribeira to Ribeira Dom João. Hiking time: 3h30
We woke up leisurely and waited for the sun to dry our things, damp from the dew. A man passed by, and we gave him the water jugs we’d borrowed, which saved us a trip back to Pedro Vaz to return them to the woman.
We left around 10 AM. We followed the sea to Alcatraz, then headed toward Pilão Cão. The path runs alongside the small hills on our right, and we passed above Lagoa Cimidor. The terrain is arid, and the path is hard to find among the many goat tracks.
After 3h30 of hiking, we reached Ribeira Dom João with 2 young people we’d met along the way.
Since it was a public holiday in Cape Verde, the kids didn’t have school, and with the principal’s permission, we pitched our tent in the kindergarten. She even kindly opened the school toilets for us. The neighbor gave us the water we needed to wash up and cook. We cooked beef steaks on charcoal. A nice change from fish!! Charcoal is a widespread artisanal product on the island. People almost never cook directly over wood but always with these big chunks of charcoal.
The hills on our right
Ribeira Dom João
Day 7 (Thursday): From Ribeira Dom João to Vila do Maio. Hiking time: 3h30
We woke up at 6:30 AM to clear out of the school by 8 AM. The neighbor made us coffee to save time. It took us 2 hours to reach Barreiro, another Wild West-style town! Since we didn’t want to walk on the road, we took the old track and reached Vila do Maio in 1h30.
Last night before taking the plane back to Praia the next day.
Barreiro
The old track
The church in Vila do Maio
That’s where this trip ends!
Maio is truly a magical island! A remote, isolated place with incredible, wild beaches and villages with a Wild West feel—colorful houses on either side of well-paved, well-maintained, and decorated streets. And the locals are so warm and welcoming.
Even for hikers like us, it was a great discovery, and we were able to alternate hiking and relaxation with great pleasure! Too bad the area around Vila do Maio is being overrun by real estate construction—ongoing, unfinished, abandoned…
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.
Traveling with just one spare pair of underwear, considering a hot shower a miracle, never staying in the same place too long by sleeping wherever night catches us, taking whatever local, improbable, and rickety transport we can find—this is the DNA of us wanderers. Except this time, the script for our movie is going to be a whole different genre. On paper, the destination doesn’t exactly scream epic adventure: Réunion! And what’s more... we won’t be two, or four, or even ten. We’ll be a solid thirty. All from the same family. Yes, thirty. At this point, it’s not just a trip—it’s a summer camp on the move! Why inflict this on such a peaceful island? Because my brother decided to get married there with his lovely bride. A great idea, you might say... especially when it involves relocating the equivalent of a small Ardennes village 10,000 kilometers from home for three weeks! So who’s stepping up to be the guide and wave the little flag?
So, for an exceptional trip, exceptional stories! Don’t worry, the debates at the supermarket over whether to choose plain chips or roast chicken chips, the beach picnics washed down with ti’ punch, and other rougail sausages to digest by the pool will only make it into the family archives. Here, I’ll stick to the tales of our beautiful escapes, the ones where we explore the wild corners of this little volcanic rock planted in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So where exactly are we headed?
For the first week—the subject of this first installment—we’re taking it easy. We’ll start by rediscovering the coastline, from the Souffleur in Saint-Leu to the Hermitage lagoon, before a little trip to the Cirque de Cilaos and its legendary road with 400 turns, just to get our legs warmed up.
"How about a Christmas market this year, huh? A little romantic weekend getaway...
- Yes! That’d be cool! Strasbourg? Colmar?
- Feels a bit déjà vu, doesn’t it? Plus, slim chance of snow there... And I’d love something a bit more exotic with a touch of originality..."
"Okay, Google, give me the list of the five most beautiful Christmas markets in Europe.
- In fifth place, the Christmas market in Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania.
- Save your breath! Lithuania, here we come!"
We wanted cold, and cold is exactly what we got the moment we set foot in this new, unknown land. As for landscapes, forests and lakes stretch as far as the eye can see across this vast plain, its vegetation scorched by the frost of a winter that’s clearly already well underway here.
Lakes, in fact, set the scene for our first visit to Trakai Castle, whose brick-red towers and walls rise proudly against the azure sky of our first day. Lakes, because this castle was built on an island and is only accessible on foot via a series of walkways spanning half-frozen lake offshoots. I couldn’t have picked a better spot to build my castle! Translation: We’re totally sold! Proof is we spend two hours hiking around the area, alternating between forests, reeds, and cozy houses tastefully decorated for Christmas.
With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo.
But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip.
And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.
So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays:
- 3 nights in St Lucia
- 1 night in Hluhluwe
- 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini)
- 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini)
- 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti)
- 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve
- 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie
All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.
I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).
To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.
Hi everyone, I’m Patrick, 67 years old, a seasoned traveler (already 22 trips outside Europe).
In autumn 2025, I took my first 3-week trip to Japan, with stops in Tokyo, Kamakura, Matsumoto, Kamikochi, Takayama, Kanazawa, Kyoto, Nara, Osaka, Koyasan, Tokyo again, and Nikko.
I wanted to go back in May 2026 and explore some lesser-known places to complement my first trip.
Last year, there were four of us traveling together to discover Japan (a fairly classic itinerary). This time, I’ll be traveling solo for part of the trip and with a couple of French friends for the rest.
The weather was gorgeous in May, averaging around 25°C, with two very hot days in Kyoto and only two rainy days.
As usual, I organized everything myself, gathering plenty of information from various sites, including this one.
Transportation:
An ICOCA card is essential.
I got a 5-day Kansai-Hiroshima pass because I took the shinkansen between Hiroshima and Osaka three times, and it paid for itself quickly.
Accommodations:
Mostly through Booking. No issues at all. Average cost was 46 € per night.
Meals:
For breakfast, I alternated between buying food at a konbini to eat in my room or on the train and grabbing something at local cafés.
For lunch and dinner, I tried to vary my meals as much as possible—lots of sashimi, sushi, and ramen.
Okonomiyaki in Osaka and Hiroshima.
Oysters in every form (raw, grilled, fried) in Onomichi and Hiroshima.
A variety of seafood (shrimp, shellfish) in Hiroshima and Matsumoto.
Fish whose names often escaped me, but notably mackerel and eel (unagi).
Tempura and gyoza.
Chicken skewers (yakitori) and one teppanyaki meal.
One omakase meal (9 different dishes).
In the end, not much meat aside from a few yakitori skewers. No splurges on super expensive wagyu or Kobe beef.
Average dinner cost: 4,800 yen, drinks included.
The Itinerary:
Day 1: Departure from Brussels
Day 2: Arrival in Osaka
Day 3: To Himeji, then Kurashiki
Day 4: To Fukuyama, then Tomo no Ura, then Onomichi
Day 5: Cycling the Shimanami Kaido
Day 6: To Takahara, then Hiroshima
Day 7: To Kyoto to attend the Aoi Matsuri parade
Day 8: To Miyajima
Day 9: Hiroshima, then Kyoto
Day 10: Southern Kyoto
Day 11: Northern Kyoto
Day 12: Final day in Kyoto, then to Nagatsugawa
Day 13: Start of the Nakasendo Trail (Magome to Tsumago)
Day 14: Second day of the trail (Kiso Fukushima)
Day 15: Third day of the trail (Narai), then Matsumoto
Day 16: To Mt. Fuji (Kawaguchiko)
Day 17: To Tokyo
Day 18: Excursion to Enoshima and Kamakura
Day 19: Flight home, with a 10-hour layover in Hong Kong
Day 20: Arrival in Brussels
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 three years at most in Thailand, and I’m not a big expert on the country.
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 piece together a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who miss 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 guards 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 property, be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t really 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, are 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 broken for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the side of the road, sometimes right on the road. When you arrive, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, which reminds 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. Seeing a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you might think it’s best not to cross paths with them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at temples on the brink of death, enduring terrible suffering. No one did anything about it. The image (and the smell) of one of them, dying and emitting 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 well-fed animal quickly became a happy, 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 in them 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 a gimmick—it’s just that 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.
When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”
This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...
Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.
Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!
La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.
Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.
Some practical info:
- The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side.
- We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €.
- The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen.
- Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day.
- Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.
Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!
If I close my eyes and think of the Sultanate of Oman, I first smell a light scent of incense, feel the warmth of a sunbeam on my skin, before sand slips through my fingers. I taste the sweetness of a date, a real candy, then the flavor of coffee with a hint of cardamom and rosewater... I hear the desert wind whistling in my ears, the distant call of a muezzin, then the murmur of water. I open my eyes to see smiles, welcoming gestures, a turquoise sea, rocks ranging from ochre to purple, deep wadis where torrents burst forth, orange dunes, white sandy beaches where tiny crabs scurry at full speed. I see incredible oases emerging between arid mountains. I see abandoned villages that I’d dream were full of life, imposing fortresses overlooking valleys, and lively souks where offers are delicate and negotiation is a mutual courtesy.
All that, and so much more.
This is what I tried to capture in my illustrated travel journal, which I’ll fill in here and there with photos.
I drew this journal “cold,” after my return (actually, I made it this summer, while our trip was last winter). It’s a pretty special format—I bought it in Japan without really knowing what I’d do with it. Well, it found its purpose! Below is a photo of this accordion-style journal: here, it’s only partially open, because when fully unfolded, it’s 5 meters long!
For drawing enthusiasts: The accordion format is both a constraint (each sheet is 9 cm x 27 cm) and a freedom (you can create a fresco). The paper is also a bit special: it doesn’t allow for fine lines, but it takes ink well (liner pen). However, everything has to be done almost in one go (with a very light pencil sketch) because it erases poorly. It absorbs too much water for coloring with markers or watercolors (unless you avoid soaking it), but it works well with oil pastels and their use with a brush and solvent. Since it’s yellowish, it allowed me to create contrasts even with white pastel.
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those stunning doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Oman is one of the world’s largest producers of frankincense resin. Incense burners are everywhere, from the simplest clay ones to the most precious handcrafted silver ones...
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a touch of saffron, and occasionally rosewater.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (during the week and daytime; colors are more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you’ll see some men dressed in Western clothes, they’re very few. The white dishdasha is truly the shared attire of all men. The dishdasha, which has no hood, is distinguished by a small pom-pom attached to the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go overboard with it! "It smells like the pom-pom" is an expression that’s now part of our shared language, my husband and I.
Another must of men’s attire is the kuma, a small round head covering, usually white with brightly colored patterns. The keffiyeh is also worn (but without the cord called an agal in Arab countries), and it’s mostly worn by those with roots in the desert, from what I understood.
And what about the women, you might ask? Some are veiled, some in full black (but not a burka—more like a chador + abaya), due to the influence of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, whereas the traditional outfit used to be a layering of very colorful dresses. Most of the women we saw wore neutral clothing, a plain veil over their hair, but with their faces uncovered. We also saw many saris and colorful veils—don’t forget that 40% of the population consists of Indian, Nepalese, and Bangladeshi immigrants, who work a lot in tourism, hospitality, restaurants, services, and construction.
Just to clarify, as a tourist, there’s no pressure to wear a veil, and never any disapproving looks. Of course, you’ll save the mini shorts, plunging necklines, bare shoulders, and midriffs for the hotel terrace—but I’d say that’s the same for men and women, and with the sun being strong, it’s better for your skin too.
Here’s the introduction! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
My buddy Christian and I (Patrick) are off for 28 days in Argentina in March.
We’ve already shared several trips as a duo (Bolivia Peru, Namibia, Laos, Costa Rica).
Since we’re starting from the idea that at our age (65) we won’t be coming back here—there are just too many other corners of the world to discover—we did the "grand tour" of Argentina, with 6 domestic flights to make the most of our 28 days.
Here are our stops:
1) Departure from Brussels to Buenos Aires via Madrid
2) Arrival and first contact with Buenos Aires
3) Early morning flight to Ushuaia. Boat trip on the Beagle Channel
4) Ushuaia: hikes in Tierra del Fuego National Park
5) Ushuaia: last hike and flight to El Calafate
6) El Calafate to El Chaltén by bus. First hike
7) El Chaltén: hike
8) El Chaltén: hike
9) El Chaltén: hike and bus back to El Calafate
10) El Calafate: Perito Moreno Glacier
11) Flight to Bariloche. Car rental and surrounding areas
12) Seven Lakes Region
13) Nahuel Huapi National Park region
14) Flight to Salta. Car rental
15) To Tilcara
16) To Humahuaca
17) To Purmamarca
18) To Jujuy via the salt flats
19) To Cafayate
20) Around Cafayate
21) To Cachi
22) Back to Salta
23) Flight to Iguazu
24) Waterfalls on the Argentine side
25) Waterfalls on the Brazilian side and flight to Buenos Aires
26) Buenos Aires
27) Return flight
28) Morning arrival
Happy reading!..
We landed in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, and headed straight to Kasane in Botswana to pick up our car.
Our vehicle is a 4x4 because in Zambia, it's practically impossible to use anything else, especially in the national parks. I’ve already had the pleasure of visiting South Luangwa National Park—it’s one of the reasons for this trip, the main one being to travel in Africa with one of my sons.
First stop: Livingstone on the banks of the Zambezi River. Along the way, we discovered a lovely restaurant at Socrates with a super-friendly owner (we’ll actually stop there again on our way back). We spent our first night in the rooftop tent after a stunning sunset, accompanied by the grunting of hippos in the river.
The next day, we set off early, heading to Kafue NP. In fact, we’ll always leave early—waking up between 5:00 and 5:30 AM and hitting the road an hour later. Kafue is a lesser-known park, mostly forested, and the animals are skittish because they’re not used to human presence. We crossed the park from south to north and came across various antelopes. Near Lake Itezhi-Tezhi, there are plains where wildlife is easier to spot.
After Kafue, we headed to South Luangwa. This journey requires stops in Mumbwa and Petauke. Two pleasant stops where we found lodges (a nice change from the rooftop tent) at affordable prices and met welcoming people.
For me, South Luangwa is Zambia’s most beautiful park—the river is stunning, the landscapes are gorgeous, and there’s a wide variety of wildlife, including, of course, big cats. A tip for those, like us, who aren’t with a guide: if you’re staying near the park for several days, don’t hesitate to do a "game drive" to scout out where the animals are so you can return the next day with your own vehicle. Of course, in the dry season, you’ll want to focus on waterholes to see the animals—and you’ll need a bit of luck too. The elephant population is growing, and we were lucky enough to see around sixty elephants crossing the Luangwa at dawn, spread across several groups. South Luangwa is the westernmost point of our trip, and we’re now heading east to Lower Zambezi.
Lower Zambezi is Zambia’s side of Mana Pools on the Zimbabwe side. We took a boat ride on the Zambezi to see elephants, hippos, crocodiles, and a multitude of birds living along the water and on the river’s islands. The sunset there is also magnificent.
To explore the park, we followed the waterways parallel to the Zambezi, mostly on the western side (see our route). Lower Zambezi is the last park we visit, and the final leg of our trip will be Victoria Falls.
Victoria Falls—or Mosi-Oa-Tunya ("The Smoke That Thunders")—are truly impressive, even during the dry season. We saw the falls from both countries: in Zambia for the overall view and the bridge that serves as the border, and in Zimbabwe to get as close as possible to the most spectacular parts of the falls.
This marks the end of our trip, which, despite a blown tire on the road, went off without any major issues. Zambia is a beautiful country that immerses you in wild, still-preserved nature.
The latest travel journal about Turkmenistan dates back to 2019. Here’s a quick update on this vast desert country, which is now a bit easier to visit than before.
This is my first travel journal. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. The country is slowly opening up, but it’s still possible to visit sites where you’ll be completely alone. In five days, I saw two Hongkongers, a few Germans, and a Chilean at the crater, ten Chinese people in a capital bazaar, and that’s it!
It’s possible to visit Turkmenistan from Uzbekistan. The easiest and most economical way is to take a taxi to the border from Bukhara. The trip takes a little over an hour.
Crossing the border takes quite a while because many Turkmen bring back items bought in Uzbekistan to resell in Turkmenistan. For example, diapers, baby products, or beauty products.
It took me over 2.5 hours to cross the border. To visit Turkmenistan, it’s mandatory to have a guide and go through a travel agency. British agencies often offer three-, five-, or seven-day trips for over 1,500 or 2,000 €.
But if your budget is more limited, you can contact a few Turkmen agencies directly by email, and they’ll make you an offer between 700 and 1,300 € for three to seven days. I took a five-day trip from Turkmenabat in the northeast of the country to Dashoguz in the north. The goal was to visit the main UNESCO-listed sites, including Merv, and archaeological sites like Nisa or Gonur Tepe.
Your guide will also be your driver. They’ll pick you up at the border. The formalities are very long because customs officers have to stamp multiple documents, and obtaining the visa you previously requested from your travel agency requires several checks. But the process goes relatively smoothly, even if each step takes a while.
Once on the other side, the first surprise is the brand-new highway all the way to Turkmenabat. A very long line of trucks stretches for several kilometers on the Turkmen side to cross the border into Uzbekistan. According to my guide, Turkmen trucks transport gas and cotton (though not this season, since the harvest is in September), but they mainly fill up their tanks because fuel is much cheaper in Turkmenistan. A full tank for a car costs about 3 €, which is unbeatable.
From the Farap border post, the goal is to reach the city of Mary, which is home to the UNESCO-listed site of Merv in its suburbs, about thirty kilometers away. This city is known as a foundation by Alexander the Great in the 4th century BC under the name Alexandria of Margiana. Several fortresses are visible.
After more than three hours on the road, we have lunch at a Turkish restaurant called Aladdin. Several quotes from the president are visible along the highway, but the road is in good condition, and we move along easily. This will be by far the best road in the country—things will get much worse later.
Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.
After as many weeks as I have fingers on my right hand, we're hitting the road again, fully recovered from our pharaonic adventure. Back in France to drop off our daughters (sorry, girls!), this time it's just the two of us, ready to be welcomed by a new destination. They say it offers one of the richest cultural heritages in the world for those willing to put in the effort. It's the land of the ancient Silk Road, where we'll follow a journey steeped in history and discoveries straight out of *One Thousand and One Nights*. A former Soviet bloc region independent only since 1991, we'll be walking in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Alexander the Great, Marco Polo...
Another fun fact about this country: it's strictly forbidden to import porn on your phone. True story. The same goes for painkillers! Unless it's about sodomy—though the two don’t seem connected, that’s just how it is. Don’t ask me why! Anyway, I’m getting off track. Here’s the big question: Where do you think we’ve just landed?... To give you a hint, the locals are known for being incredibly welcoming. No sooner said than done—our first taxi driver, proud to transport French travelers, refused to let us pay for the ride. Great vibes for these two weeks ahead. So, any guesses?
Uzbekistan!!!
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.
Here we go!!!
I left home at 4 AM on October 31st and headed to Barcelona. Driving through Barcelona on the ring road stresses me out a bit, but at 6 AM the traffic is smooth, and I arrive at the airport without any issues. I call the valet, who quickly comes to pick up my car. He takes photos of it from all angles before letting me go.
Baggage check-in hasn’t started yet, and there are already several of us waiting.
Once free, everything happens very quickly. The flight to Abu Dhabi is on time and goes smoothly. I’ve never had any problems with this airline, which I’ve been using for several years.
The flight to Bangkok arrives at 7 AM as scheduled. This is my first time in Thailand and Bangkok. I’m used to traveling in India, and I notice that everything here is well organized—the customs process is quick, and the luggage is already on the carousel.
I booked a taxi on Booking. All I have to do is find the right exit and door based on the agency’s instructions. A large sign with the names of people who booked is posted on a wall. A hostess greets me and calls the taxi, which arrives 5 minutes later. I booked one night at the Lost Inn BKK hotel in the Phra Nakhon district, and we arrive at 9 AM. The welcome isn’t warm, and I have to wait until noon, sitting on a chair, before I can check into my room. I’m exhausted, and sleeping sitting up isn’t ideal. Noon finally arrives—the room is small but clean, which is fine for one night. I quickly take a shower to wake up because I plan to spend the afternoon visiting the Grand Palace. First, I need to exchange some money, and the banks are all close together on the same street, which is very convenient. When I enter one, a hostess gives me a ticket and invites me to sit down. There are about twenty counters, and I wait quietly until my number is called. The exchange is quick, so I can head out to find the Royal Palace. It’s actually very easy, and the walk is pleasant.
Entry to the Royal Palace (500 baht).
It’s magnificent and grand, and there are quite a few of us visiting. The sky is gray, it’s very humid, and a shower interrupts the visit. It’s a vast complex of temples and palaces. The buildings are colorful and sparkling, with a great sense of serenity (without the tourists, of course). I quietly enjoy the place and try to take photos without tourists, which isn’t easy.
Very close to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, one of the oldest Buddhist temples in the capital.
It’s very famous for its 46-meter-long reclining Buddha statue.
Walking around the temple, you can see different representations of Buddha, all covered in gold leaf.
Inside the temple, on one side, monks recite their prayers, while the other side is reserved for tourists who come to meditate in silence.
Before returning to the hotel, I have dinner at an Indian restaurant. I go to bed early because tomorrow’s wake-up call will be very early again.
Saturday, November 2nd
Wake-up at 4 AM, departure from the hotel at 4:30 AM. The taxi I booked via Booking is waiting for me and takes me to the airport. The trip is fairly quick—he takes small roads, and at this hour, there’s no traffic.
The flight to Phnom Penh is on time. Before boarding, I realize I left my fleece jacket on the carousel, but it’s too late to go back for it.
The flight goes well, and customs is quick.
At the exit, I take a tuk-tuk to Julieka’s GH near the museum. The welcome is friendly. I won’t be able to check into my room until noon, so I take the opportunity to exchange some euros on the market street. The street is lined with restaurants, and I’ll have my first meal there.
The museum is right across the street, so I don’t waste any time visiting it.
The representations of Hindu deities are very different from those in India, and I don’t recognize them. Many beautiful Buddhas are on display.
The museum is very pleasant, and there aren’t too many people, which is a plus.
At the exit, I return to the GH, settle into my room—which is decent and clean.
The Royal Palace is 1 km away. I walk along a garden, and at the end of the street is the Tonlé Sap, but I turn right. I arrive at a large esplanade and see the buildings with tiered roofs and glazed tiles. The entrance to the palace is a little further away.
At the entrance, I notice there isn’t the same crowd as at the one in BKK.
Khmer architecture is magnificent. The complex consists of gardens, palaces, pagodas with golden roofs, and slender spires.
The Silver Pagoda houses the small Emerald Buddha, which is actually made of jade. The silver flooring is covered with carpets. Photos are not allowed.
The walls surrounding the pagoda are covered with frescoes depicting scenes from the Ramayana.
My partner and I traveled from Sunday, July 5, 2026, to Wednesday, July 22, 2026.
We spent a long time debating whether to rent a car or use public transportation. In the end, after reading so many posts about travelers getting scammed by police or rental companies—even those recommended by blogs and reviews—we decided to stick with public transport. It worked out really well. Sure, we had a little less freedom to go where we wanted, but it was way less stressful for us.
Sunday, July 5:
Arrived at Cancun Airport. Withdrew cash from the ATM in the terminal just before exiting. The ADO bus counter (they pronounce it "A-Jee-O") is right behind you when you're facing the ATM. Bus to downtown Cancun cost 145 pesos per person.
Stayed at "Rose 5," booked on Booking. The studio was super clean and perfect for one night. The owner’s instructions for accessing the place were very precise, with photos included. Check-in was self-service with a code. The ADO bus terminal isn’t far, and there are shops and restaurants nearby. We really appreciated that the AC was already on when we arrived. By the way, I’d recommend always booking places with AC—it’s *really* hot in Mexico.
Monday, July 6:
Bought a SIM card with data from a TELCEL store. My partner, who’s on Free Mobile, was able to use her regular plan. Just so you know, I found the network pretty unstable. As soon as we left the cities, neither of us—me with TELCEL or her with Free—had any signal.
Another thing to watch out for: roaming charges. I had to turn my SIM back on for less than 30 seconds to get a bank SMS code, and my phone apparently connected to the internet—resulting in an 8-euro roaming fee.
Left on an ADO bus to Chiquila for 278 pesos per person. During our trip, ADO buses were always on time, comfortable, and clean. The AC is *cranked* though, so bring something to cover up with—it gets cold. Some routes were fully booked even in the low season, so try to reserve 1 or 2 days in advance either via the app (when it works) or at the counter.
When we arrived at the ADO terminal in Chiquila, the ferry company counters were right next to it. Ferries leave every 30 minutes, alternating between companies, so no need to book ahead. Just take whichever one is leaving next (330 pesos per person).
When we got to Holbox (pronounced "Hol-bosh"), we’d booked a place via Booking called "Casa de Nana." It was a huge studio with a fridge, cooking plate, and utensils. The best part? The *location*. It was 100 meters from the beach and 200 meters from a Chedraui supermarket. They provided bath towels and beach towels, and the AC worked perfectly. There’s a key box so you can leave your keys inside when you go out. The only downside was that no one was there to let us in when we arrived, so we had to wait a while. The Wi-Fi was good, which was lucky because during our 4-day stay in Holbox, the phone network *never* worked. According to locals, that’s pretty common in Holbox, along with water outages.
Luckily, I’d had the good idea to download an offline map, which helped us find our way back to the place more easily. You can walk there from the dock.
The restaurant next to our place (La Barracuda) was great if you like seafood—I’d recommend their octopus dishes.
Tuesday, July 7:
We did a kayak tour in Holbox’s mangroves at 6 AM. We were looking for a sunrise kayak tour with a French-speaking guide. That’s exactly what we got with "Kayaking Holbox," where Diego, the owner, speaks English and French. He was joined by Gustavo, another guide.
We’d booked for a group tour, but we were the only ones. Diego still went ahead with it instead of canceling due to lack of participants, so we got a private tour at the group rate—really professional of him. They showed us this amazing ecosystem for over 3 hours. We saw all kinds of birds: pink flamingos, pelicans, egrets, frigatebirds... rays, a horseshoe crab, and a little crocodile that was *so* well hidden. Diego and Gustavo have a real eye for spotting animals—I could’ve passed by the crocodile 100 times and never seen it, it blended in so well. Their explanations about the flora and fauna were super interesting. We also got a little break where we tasted mangoes and bananas that taste *nothing* like the ones in France. A real treat—those little Mexican yellow mangoes! I’d definitely recommend Diego and his agency for a French-language kayak tour (1000 pesos per person).
In the evening, we walked to Punta Coco to see the bioluminescence. No need for a guided tour—if you really don’t want to walk, you can take a taxi. At Punta Coco, you have to pass the beach bar/restaurant and then go left into a kind of inlet that forms a lagoon. You have to wiggle your feet or move your hands in the water to create movement, which makes the light appear. Just don’t expect the kind of photos you’ve seen online—they’re all edited! It’s fun to see, but you won’t be dazzled by the light...
Wednesday, July 8:
Whale shark tour with "My Holbox Tours." Why recommend this agency over others for swimming with whale sharks? Simply because Valérie surrounds herself with top professionals to make your experience unforgettable. We were with Captain Fernando, who does everything to position the boat perfectly and make your swim easier. In the water, we were with Humberto, who also goes above and beyond to make sure you have an incredible time. He doesn’t just "supervise" like some guides from other companies who leave you on your own. No, Humberto reads the whale shark’s trajectory and guides you—all you have to do is follow him. He really puts in the effort, even holding your hand to guide you through this quick but intense encounter. Humberto also films the moment and will offer to show you the videos and sell them to you. His footage is really high quality.
Fernando and Humberto also prepared food for us. Special mention for their guacamole! Valérie is there to make sure everything goes smoothly on the boat and to answer your questions in French, English, or Spanish about these animals. If you choose My Holbox Tours, you can be sure you’ll get a top-notch experience.
About the tour itself: before you go, you should know that the sharks can be *really* far away. The day we went, it took 3.5 hours by boat to reach them. The boats are small, and let me tell you—on the way there, when we weren’t going with the waves, it was *rough*. Out of 9 passengers, 4 got seasick. But once you’re face-to-face with the shark, you forget all about that. Even if swimming with a whale shark isn’t exactly a walk in the park—they swim pretty fast, so you need some endurance to keep up. You’ll usually get 2 turns. Our first swim lasted a little over 4 minutes, and the second about 2 minutes because the shark was moving fast and we were still tired from the first swim. It might seem short, but when you’re swimming, it feels *long*. Either way, it’s an experience you *have* to do—but choose your company wisely. On the way back, there’s a stop at Cabo Catoche. Honestly, the snorkeling is pretty disappointing if you’ve done it elsewhere in the world. But the lunch stop at Cabo Catoche is really nice for relaxing (white sand and hammocks).
Thursday, July 9:
Short morning walk to Punta Mosquito at 6 AM. Really nice.
Ferry to Chiquila (330 pesos per person) + ADO bus to Valladolid (300 pesos per person).
In Valladolid, we booked "Casa Lucia" via Booking. The hotel is gorgeous, with a colonial style, and very close to the ADO bus terminal and downtown. It’s super quiet and clean. There’s a shared kitchen you can use with a fridge, microwave, and water dispenser, plus a big table by the pool and a nice indoor terrace. Breakfast was simple but included. The only small downsides were the tiny room and bathroom, no mirror in the room, and a noisy fan.
Friday, July 10:
Not far from the ADO bus terminal is the colectivo station for Chichen Itza. They offer a round-trip to Chichen Itza with an option to stop at Ik Kil cenote on the way back and then drop you off in Valladolid for 370 pesos per person (Ik Kil entrance included).
For the Chichen Itza visit, we’d booked a tour with a guide often mentioned in groups—his name is Juan Pat. He’s a Maya who lives near the site and speaks excellent French. He reserves spots in advance for you and queues up to be the first on-site. It cost 500 pesos per person + entrance fees. His tour lasts 2 hours and focuses mainly on the main pyramid and the ball court. He’s passionate and fascinating, even if some of his claims, as a Maya, might be a little biased. I think it’s *really* important to have a guide—otherwise, you’ll miss so much. You can contact Juan Pat on WhatsApp at +52 985 121 2381.
Afterward, we went to Ik Kil cenote (showers and life jackets mandatory, lockers available). It’s *very* crowded, but still really beautiful with its lush vegetation.
Saturday, July 11:
Since we didn’t have a car but still wanted to visit other cenotes that seemed hard to reach by public transport, we decided to book a taxi for the day. We agreed on 1200 pesos to take us to 3 different cenotes and wait for us at each one. (To find taxis, just look where they park near the ADO bus station.)
He picked us up at Zaci cenote, which we’d walked to. We got there at opening time and were the first ones there—had the place to ourselves for a while! 150 pesos per person. A pretty cenote in the city center with lush vegetation. It’s a bit like Ik Kil but without the deep cylindrical effect.
Cenote Xcanahaltun: the most beautiful cenote we visited. Entry 250 pesos per person. It’s a closed cenote with a hole that lets light in—a cave-like setting. You can kayak inside. There are little fish at the edge that nibble dead skin off your feet. Since it’s closed, the water is *freezing*!
Cenote Palomitas: entry 250 pesos per person. Another stunning closed cenote, even more enclosed than Xcanahaltun. The hole in the ceiling is smaller, so it was pretty dark when we arrived—kind of an eerie vibe. But when the staff turned on the lights, it looked like a "Gothic cathedral" full of bright stalactites.
Cenote Sac Aua: entry 290 pesos per person. The ticket includes a guided cave tour (tip-based). This cenote is really unique with its central island and way less crowded than Suytun. Just so you know, the water is *really* cold in cenotes. In these three, in July, we had the place to ourselves for a while and never saw more than 2 families at once—so peaceful!
Sunday, July 12:
ADO bus to Bacalar (536 pesos per person).
In Bacalar, we stayed via Airbnb with a host named Luli, who offers several rooms with shared bathroom and kitchen.
The room is nicely decorated in a pleasant setting. It’s ideally located near the lagoon and downtown. The shared kitchen is handy. The mosquito net over the bed is useful because there are *a lot* of mosquitoes in Bacalar. Luli provides a water jug, which is really nice. The only big downside is the lack of water pressure in the shower—we had to rinse off by filling a bucket. Also, there’s no real door separating the room from the bathroom. We never met Luli in person, but she was very responsive via messages. The terrace in the middle of the vegetation is lovely.
From the ADO terminal to the place, we took a taxi for 40 pesos. Since this driver was honest about the price (we’d checked beforehand), we decided to use him every time we needed a taxi in Bacalar. Here’s his WhatsApp: +52 983 184 3585.
Monday, July 13:
We did a boat tour on the lagoon with "Bacalar Francophone Activities." Since we were just the two of us, it cost 3500 pesos. If we’d managed to be 4 people, it would’ve been 1000 pesos per person.
We had a private 4-hour tour on the lagoon with Steeve and his very comfortable boat. He’s from Quebec, so his French is perfect. During those 4 hours, Steeve showed us the lagoon’s iconic spots *and* places other boats don’t go. He told us about the lagoon’s history and gave great tips on where to go and where to eat. As a little bonus, he gave us a video taken with his drone during our swimming break.
Tuesday, July 14:
We went to Los Rapidos by taxi (400 pesos round trip) and entry was 225 pesos per person. It’s *very* touristy but really beautiful. You can eat there (expensive), relax, and go down the "rapids" as many times as you want. It’s worth it if you spend a few hours there. You can’t bring in food or drinks—you leave them at the entrance and pick them up on the way out.
Wednesday, July 15:
On Wednesdays, navigation is banned on Bacalar Lagoon, so we’d planned another excursion.
Visit to Calakmul from Bacalar with ABCtours (WhatsApp +52 983 319 8359).
This agency organized a trip from Bacalar to Calakmul with a French-speaking guide. Communication beforehand via WhatsApp was smooth. Mr. Checo, the driver, and Fernando, the guide (who spoke great French), picked us up on the day. Mr. Checo drove very carefully on the long road and always made sure we were comfortable. Fernando is passionate about flora and fauna—he’s a biologist with a degree in ornithology, so he knows *everything* about animals. The slightest sound or song, and he knows what it is. He’s got an eye for spotting them, from the biggest to the smallest.
During the trip, we stopped at km 27 for a short forest walk, then went to see the two main pyramids on the site. On the way back, we stopped at the bat cave for the magical spectacle of millions of bats flying out at dusk. In the end, we saw or glimpsed (some briefly) spider monkeys, howler monkeys, a toucan, 2 tapirs, turkeys, 2 deer, and lots of birds. If, like us, you’re more into flora and fauna than archaeology, I’d *highly* recommend this agency and tour with Fernando.
It’s not cheap, but the road between Bacalar and the site is *long* (3.5 hours). Price: 3900 pesos per person for 2 (3500 for 3, 3200 for 4).
Thursday, July 16:
ADO bus to Playa del Carmen (614 pesos per person).
In Playa del Carmen, we stayed in an Airbnb. The building is on the town hall square, next to the casino.
The best thing about this place is the *location*—super close to Fifth Avenue (La Quinta). The kitchen is pretty basic, but the fridge works well. There are supermarkets nearby. The rooftop pool is really nice. The two big downsides, though, are the soundproofing (you can *hear* the neighbor’s alarm and all the events on the square) and the *total* lack of water pressure in the shower. We had to fill a trash can with water to pour over ourselves. When we told the owner, he said it wasn’t normal and someone would come fix it, but we never heard back. Based on previous reviews, this seems to be a known issue that never gets resolved.
Playa del Carmen is *very* touristy on Fifth Avenue, but in a fun, musical vibe—we never felt unsafe. There are *tons* of little souvenir shops for tourists on this street. There’s a beautiful monumental sculpture on the beach (the two figures meeting in the air), next to which you can see the Voladores show (men climbing a pole, tying themselves with ropes, and descending headfirst while "flying" around the pole). The show is tip-based and happens several times a day. In our opinion, Calle 38 is prettier than Fifth Avenue—it’s lush, green, and quieter, with the sea at the end. Great for an early evening stroll. We had really good meals at great prices at "El Tio Noy" tacos, just a few meters from Fifth Avenue in a side street.
For souvenirs, we’d recommend going to Walmart instead of Fifth Avenue—you’ll find skulls, tequila, mezcal, keychains, mugs, glasses... at good, fixed prices.
Friday, July 17:
We did the excursion to Isla Contoy. Isla Contoy is an uninhabited, highly protected island. Only 200 people are allowed to land per day on a rotating basis, so only a few companies have permission to dock there. Most agencies subcontract the day to a third-party company.
We booked through VRM (Viviendo Riviera Maya), but it was Ocean Tours Mexico that handled the tour. Contoy is a little paradise. We were accompanied by multilingual guides, including French speakers, throughout the day. Steffy gave us info about the island during a short walk on the marked trails, and Leño Tlatemoa kept the mood up on the boat rides with music and dancing. Isla Contoy is *truly* stunning, and the lunch was delicious: grilled fish and chicken, guacamole and tortilla chips, rice, fruit, drinks (everything is brought and taken back by the guides). The snorkeling part was pretty disappointing if you’ve done it in Cozumel, though. The stop at Isla Mujeres isn’t very interesting either—it’s too short to explore, and the island is *extremely* touristy. Still, the excursion was very well organized, and we had a great day (2970 pesos per person).
Saturday, July 18:
We wanted to go snorkeling in Cozumel but thought the prices from French-speaking agencies were too high. Plus, for snorkeling, we figured we didn’t *need* a French-speaking guide.
So we found a much cheaper solution by taking the ferry from Playa del Carmen ourselves and choosing an agency in Playa. The round-trip ferry cost 663.50 pesos per person. Then we took a taxi to the snorkeling boat (100 pesos). The agency we chose is called Mystic Snorkel—they don’t have a physical office. The tour cost 1400 pesos per person. It was a small boat, but that day we were the only ones, so we got a private tour at the group rate. We stopped at 4 different sites, all very different and beautiful. We saw all kinds of fish, corals, a nurse shark, and turtles. El Cielo, with its huge starfish, is *exceptional*. If you’re going snorkeling in the Yucatan Peninsula, this is *the* tour to do—the other sites are pretty "poor" in comparison.
Sunday, July 19:
Morning dive with Triton Diving. I chose the Cozumel dive option. Great experience.
Booking via WhatsApp was easy. On the day of the dive, Selene, who speaks French, was our guide. She’s *very* attentive to the group’s safety. The briefings are clear and precise. In Cozumel, we did 2 very different sites: the first was a drift dive with lots of life—beautiful corals and fish. The second was a wreck, the C53, a 56-meter boat you can enter. Not much marine life, but a beautiful wreck intentionally sunk for divers—still in great condition. An unforgettable moment. Selene even took videos during the dive, which the club sends you for free afterward. I’d *highly* recommend this club.
Just so you know, in Playa del Carmen, the beaches were full of sargassum during our stay, despite barriers and daily cleanup. Locals told us the problem is getting worse and the sargassum is arriving earlier in the season. Tourism has taken a *big* hit this summer, and they’re wondering if tourism can even survive the sargassum season anymore. A lot of tourists are heading to the islands—Isla Mujeres and Cozumel—to enjoy the beaches, as the west side of those islands is sargassum-free.
Monday, July 20:
Colectivo to Puerto Morelos. First, a colectivo toward Cancun that drops you off between Puerto Morelos town and Puerto Morelos beach (40 pesos per person), then another from that junction to the beach (10 pesos per person).
In Puerto Morelos, we’d booked a room via Airbnb at "Piedra del Caribe." *Best* place we stayed in Mexico. It’s an aparthotel. Our room was ready before check-in, so they let us in early. The place matched the description—spacious, with a comfortable king-size bed. The shower had *great* pressure, which isn’t a given in Mexico. The staff was super friendly and welcoming. They let us use the pool, restrooms, and rooftop shower after check-out while we waited for our ride to Cancun Airport. They even kept our luggage. I *highly* recommend this place.
In Puerto Morelos, there was *way* less sargassum than in Playa del Carmen—it was actually swimmable.
We did the snorkeling tour with the fishermen’s cooperative for 450 pesos per person for 2 hours. The reef is close to the beach (you’re not allowed to swim there), so the boat ride is short. It’s not as pretty as Cozumel, but it’s nice and affordable. On Puerto Morelos’s page, you can also access a small, not-very-well-preserved reef. There’s also a cenote in the sea where fresh water mixes with saltwater—the water is murky there. We had a great dinner and excellent cocktails at "La Choza del Puerto."
Tuesday, July 21:
Wandered around Puerto Morelos (check out the church and read everything—it’s entertaining!), relaxed by the hotel pool, and left for Cancun Airport by taxi (400 pesos) booked via InDrive to head back to France.
Our highlights:
- Holbox
- The whale shark tour
- The cenotes
- The local flora and fauna (so present!)
- Isla Contoy
- Cabo Catoche (except for the snorkeling)
What we liked least:
- The bioluminescence (barely visible despite good conditions)
- The food—we found it not very diverse in taquerias
- The constant tipping
- The lack of water pressure in showers (fixed, wall-mounted, no hose or showerhead)
Don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions while it’s still fresh in our minds.
Here we go—finally, the big day has arrived! A trip the whole family (my two kids, my husband, and me) had been looking forward to for so long.
To keep it short, we left from Nice, arrived in Namibia on June 25, 2025, and left again on the 21st—four weeks later.
We used an agency for all the camping reservations, activities, and the car rental. At least that side of things was taken care of. Michaël was our contact throughout the planning and the trip itself.
We spent our first night at Londiningi BB. A bit out of the city center but very quiet. The rooms were spacious and clean, and we could eat on-site that evening. Perfect for recovering from the flight.
This travel journal is our second on VoyageForum, following last year’s where we recounted our four weeks in Vietnam.
The goal remains the same: since some members on this site share tips, experiences, and great deals that help us prepare for our trips, we do the same after returning—both to give back a little and in the hope that our experiences might be useful to others in some way.
Our route was as follows: Bangkok, Siem Reap, Krabi, Suratthani, Koh Phangan, Koh Tao, Chumphon, Bang Saphan, Prachuab Khiri Khan, Sam Roi Yod, Hua Hin, Phetchaburi, Bangkok.
Beyond rediscovering Bangkok, our objectives were the long-held dream of seeing Angkor and exploring southern Thailand, much of which isn’t overly touristy.
A quick big thank-you to Barbot, who took the time to answer several of our questions.
12/07/2013
The cheapest flight we found earlier this year was a Paris-Bangkok route with a layover in Moscow for 1440 €, total for two people.
So, this time we tried Aeroflot. Airbus A318 for the first leg, A330 for the second. Nothing particularly annoying to report—the passengers were very calm, the cabin temperature was comfortable, and we had enough legroom.
That said, the quality of the meal trays was pretty mediocre, and the flight attendants weren’t exactly comedians.
We’d like to remind everyone that it’s best to exchange as little money as possible at the airport upon arrival, since the rate is about 5% worse than at city banks.
Of course, we made sure to take the airport exit where you can catch official taxis to avoid getting scammed. So, we queued up, a little lady gave us the ticket, and off we went with the driver.
Generally, this system works well because these drivers are registered, know their duties, and the risks they face if they break the rules. Except that day, right off the bat, we got the scammer of the day. His first move was to snatch the ticket from my wife’s hands—the one you’re supposed to keep in case of a complaint. My husband saw it, but after a full day of travel, we were a bit out of it, and honestly, there was no reason to be suspicious. But once we started driving, the guy refused to turn on the meter. We insisted more and more firmly, but nothing. So, I used the famous method of opening the door and starting to step out of the car. At 40 km/h, that scares the driver more than the passenger. He finally turned on the meter, but that didn’t calm him down—quite the opposite. For the next half-hour, he ruined the ride by demanding extra fees here and there. Having dealt with several scam attempts last year in Vietnam, this wasn’t exactly new, and we were proud of ourselves for staying pretty zen. Still, this guy was a little scary—he was completely wired and aggressive. Honestly, it was hard not to think he was on something. He’d be perfect for a *Scarface* remake. When we finally arrived at the hotel, he followed us to the entrance. We paid the two tolls (25 and 45 baht), gave him the usual 100 baht extra for the ride, and stayed polite but firm. So, meter: 245 baht + 100 baht + 25 and 45 baht for tolls—we paid the exact amount, no way we were tipping this guy. He left furious, but he was already like that before picking us up... Anyway, avoid Mr. Chartree Chidchen, number 089 826 7308, car E2663!
We were so relieved to finally settle in at Feung Nakorn Balcony hotel in the temple district. 42 € per night, great reception, all the staff is friendly. The AC works fine, the bed seemed hard at first but turned out to be comfortable. The hotel is quiet, away from the nightlife, but at this time of year, many places are less crowded than in high season. Even with a nice fish pond and outdoor breakfast area, it’s a decent hotel, though we felt we could’ve found something better.
After a night on the plane, the first afternoon is always a bit of a slog. We napped for a few hours, and when we woke up—guess what—we were starving. We visited a temple across from the hotel (nothing special) and then decided to take the Chao Phraya Express, the river shuttle that serves many piers along the river. It was a really enjoyable experience. The steel gangway wobbles when you board and disembark, the boat sits low in the water, and sometimes you get splashed. During peak times, you’re packed in like sardines, but most of all, there’s that exotic urban landscape passing by, especially the temple rooftops.
At that exact moment, the boat was packed. We didn’t see a ticket booth at the pier, and we tried in vain to pay the few baht for the ride. The cashier on the boat was too busy, and another employee we called didn’t have time to help us. Oh well, we weren’t going to force the issue. Still, this mode of transport is super practical for avoiding traffic, and at the piers, the lines with station names are clearly marked, with colors matching the flags on the boats. Combined with a map like the *Routard* guide, it’s easy to navigate.
We easily made it to the restaurant *Harmonique*, located near one of these piers. It’s a unanimous favorite on this forum, and let us tell you—it’s well-deserved. What a wonderful experience that evening! We only saw the outdoor gazebo because there was no way we were dining inside. It’s not flashy, so those looking for a luxurious setting should look elsewhere.
That night, the staff was a bit slow, and we had to track them down several times to move things along. But oh, my friends—what a feast on the plate! Start with the appetizer platter for two at 250 baht, featuring four specialties, each more tempting than the last, followed by their famous crab curry for 200 baht. There’s *so much* crab in there! The dish is so delicious and rich that when you finish, you feel—how to put it—like it was almost *too* good, to the point where you’re almost put off eating for days. And also, oh yes, we *will* be back. Their satay chicken is just as amazing, and it would be a crime not to mention their generous dessert with ice cream, warm banana, and chocolate, plus their *excellent* almond milkshake.
Later, we took a taxi to Kao San Road, mainly to book a Ko Tao-Chumphon trip for 600 baht per person at the Lomprayah counter. In hindsight, we should’ve booked all three of our trips there right away.
Kao San Road is *ultra*-touristy—better for younger crowds, but it’s still worth seeing. There’s rock ‘n’ roll, hippies, and crowds everywhere.
We walked back to the hotel, and when we got a little lost near a canal, a really nice older Thai man spontaneously appeared out of the night to kindly point us in the right direction.
Finally, a real long night of sleep ahead—we cranked up the AC. Sweet, the vacation has begun!
Hi there,
I just got back from a trip to Sri Lanka from December 18th to January 1st with 2 adults and 2 kids (12 years old).
If it helps, here’s my itinerary.
We left on December 18th from Madrid with Qatar Airways. No complaints. I booked my tickets back in March for 800 € per person. (I flew from Madrid because I live near the Spanish border and was too worried about strikes in France.)
We arrived on December 19th at 4 PM (local time). Before leaving France, I’d booked a taxi through MyTransfer for 59 € to Sigiriya. A van was waiting for us at the airport exit.
A never-ending 3-hour drive to Sigiriya. We stayed at Samana Guesthouse—very simple, clean, with a pool and an excellent Sri Lankan breakfast. Shower and straight to bed.
Friday, December 20th: Beautiful weather, but very humid and hot. We visited Lion Rock (36 € for adults) and then Pidurangala.
I loved both sites—they’re a must-do in my opinion.
Spent the late afternoon by the pool.
Saturday, December 21st: Another gorgeous day. The guesthouse manager offered us a free 2-hour tuk-tuk tour. We first visited a lake, rice fields, the temple, and the Sigiriya market, plus the usual tourist trap—the botanical garden (no pressure to buy anything at the end).
Then we took a tuk-tuk to Dambulla Temple, the Golden Buddha, and the wholesale market.
Sunday, December 22nd: Still beautiful weather. I’d booked a taxi for 8 AM. We did all the long trips by taxi to save time. I’d ask for prices from 2 or 3 WhatsApp taxi agencies 2 days or the day before—super responsive, always got replies within 5 minutes. We headed to Ella (4-hour drive) for 22,000 LKR.
Arrived in the afternoon at Rest Full Homestay—a small, family-run guesthouse. Clean, cozy, and an amazing Sri Lankan breakfast.
In the afternoon, we went to Nine Arches Bridge. It was a Sunday, a Sri Lankan holiday, so it was *packed*—mostly locals and very few white tourists! Even though it was crowded, it was cool because it was all Sri Lankans. We waited an hour for the train. It’s worth seeing, but honestly, I didn’t think it was that amazing.
Then we headed to the station to check if we needed to book tickets for the train to Haputale—turns out, no.
Monday, December 23rd: Beautiful weather. We hiked Ella Rock—a gorgeous trek. The final stretch is steep but shaded, so it wasn’t as tough as I’d read. The whole hike is stunning from start to finish. We saw the train pass twice (one blue, one red) and lots of women picking tea.
After that, we did Little Adam’s Peak. It’s not hard, but it was *packed* with tourists—meh. Luckily, at the top, you can walk a bit farther (down one side and back up) to get some space to yourself.
What I *didn’t* like was the commercial vibe at the big café/restaurant with a pool at the entrance of Little Adam’s Peak. Loud music, all that money being made right next to little souvenir stands run by Sri Lankans or tea-picking women. Felt off.
Ended the day buying souvenirs at one of the few shops we found during the trip.
Tuesday, December 24th: Beautiful weather. Took the train to Haputale. We got to the station 30 minutes before the 9:30 AM train. We could’ve taken 2nd or 3rd class—I went with 2nd (160 LKR per person).
It was crowded, but we managed to get seats—first 2, then 3. Only a 1-hour ride, but I *loved* it—windows and doors open the whole time.
Arrived in Haputale around 11 AM, and the mist was already rolling in.
We walked to our guesthouse, The Mist Holiday Bungalow. Simple but clean, with a great view of the tea plantations. The owner’s wife is Vietnamese and used to work for French tour operators, so her French is still pretty good—helpful for us since our English is terrible. They booked us a tuk-tuk for 4:45 AM the next day (2,000 LKR) to Lipton’s Seat.
Spent the afternoon wandering around Haputale. Not much charm, but there’s a nice fruit and veggie market and a short walk through the tea plantations.
Wednesday, December 25th: Beautiful weather. The tuk-tuk was on time to take us to Lipton’s Seat. We were the first ones there—the sky was just starting to turn pink. In the end, only about ten of us watched the sunrise. The guesthouse had packed us breakfast, and we walked back down (half on the road, half through the plantations). Didn’t see any tea picking since it was Christmas, but the walk was still incredible. We took detours through villages full of kids.
After that, we visited the tea factory. The tour was really interesting, and we took the bus back down to Haputale. Such a great moment—whole families were heading to mass, dressed up and made up. All so beautiful.
At noon, we left for Udawalawe National Park. Taxi for 14,000 LKR. Stayed at River Inn Safari Cottage. *Warning*: It’s the same place as Eagle Safari Cottage. I don’t recommend it. We’d always stayed with families before, but here it was just staff—totally different vibe. The pool was nice but not very clean (water was murky). The bungalow was big and fine, but it was brand new—so new the asphalt floor wasn’t fully dry. It’s in the middle of nowhere, so we had to eat on-site. Couldn’t leave a review on Booking because they never confirmed we’d stayed, and they canceled our reservation the next day.
Thursday, December 26th: Beautiful weather. I’d booked a safari through the hotel for 5:30–10 AM for 54 USD. Honestly, yes, there are a lot of jeeps, but it was great. The kids loved it—we saw everything there was to see.
Left by taxi at 11:30 AM for Welligama (12,000 LKR).
We didn’t stay in Welligama city but at Coconut Beach, between Welligama and Midigama. *Total crush* on the guesthouse: Sky Mountain Café with View. Such a lovely family. The mom makes amazing meals at reasonable prices. The view from the hill over the sea is unreal.
Spent the afternoon walking along the beach.
Friday, December 27th: Beautiful weather. My kids are surfers. Unfortunately, there weren’t any boards their size to rent at Coconut, so we took a tuk-tuk to Welligama Bay (1,000 LKR). They surfed from 8 AM to 5 PM—rental was 5,000 LKR for the day. Meanwhile, we walked the beach and swam. Water was 29°C.
Saturday, December 28th: Beautiful weather, rain from 4 PM until midnight. Same surf day. They were so well-behaved the whole trip, so this was their reward.
Sunday, December 29th: Beautiful weather. Beach day at Coconut. *Warning*: It’s a reef break. For surfers, there are three spots (Coconut Left, Middle, and Right). The boys bodysurfed (with fins) all morning, and at 1 PM, we took the bus to Hikkaduwa.
Stayed at Hotel Universal Beach. Nothing special—right on the water, but the rooms were dark even though they were clean. The manager was super nice, but the rest was meh, and breakfast was mediocre compared to what we’d had before (2 eggs and 3 slices of toast). Plus, it was late—8 AM.
First impression of Hikkaduwa wasn’t great—way too many Russians for our taste.
Monday, December 30th: Beautiful weather. Spent the whole day exploring. Turtle Beach, then the other side of the beach (toward Galle) near the fishing port. The beach there is much wider, with scattered hotels and super quiet. It’s beautiful—I should’ve booked somewhere in that area. Ended up having a great day away from the crowds.
Tuesday, December 31st: Overcast, then beautiful, rain at 4 PM. Had to end the year (and the trip) with some surf. Rented boards for the kids (3,000 LKR per board for the day). Bad luck—the waves were on a reef break but small. Not great for them, but no big deal. They still got out of the water by 2 PM. Walked the beach (which is gorgeous), had a juice, and went for a swim. Then back to surfing in the rain at 4 PM.
Wednesday, January 1st: Left by taxi at 5 AM (18,000 LKR). Flight at 10 AM. Arrived in Madrid at 8 PM.
I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).
So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!
We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice.
For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.
We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.
Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).
Day 1 – Paris to Lima
Foreword
I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.
Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).
Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.
As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.
Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.
Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
We did the Langtang trek (hike) from September 10th to 17th, with the first and last days being the trip from Kathmandu and back—so 6 days of actual walking. It’s a fairly well-known trek but certainly not as famous or crowded as those in the Annapurna or Everest regions, which is why we chose it.
In theory, it’s mandatory to have a guide for this trek. In reality, it seems there are ways to bypass the regulations: we met at least two people hiking without a guide—a South Korean, a New Zealander, and possibly also a couple of English women and an American couple, though we’re not sure if they had a guide.
The agency we booked with had told us it was an affordable trek for relatively older people in good shape—which is our case (I’m 72 myself). I have to say upfront that we found it quite challenging, maybe because we didn’t have good weather—it was the end of the monsoon season. To be clear, no matter your fitness level, I’d say doing this trek in the middle of the monsoon season would be suicidal.
Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi
On Monday, September 8th, there had been violent protests in Kathmandu against the government, which had, among other things, blocked access to social media and been accused of nepotism and corruption. There were 19 deaths. The situation was very tense on the day of our departure, Wednesday the 10th. The agency warned us that public transport was very unreliable. So, we decided to take a jeep, at an additional cost of $100 ($160 minus what was already budgeted for the bus).
We left a little before 7 a.m. and it took us a good hour just to reach the outskirts of Kathmandu. Along the way, we saw several houses and vehicles set on fire by protesters.
The road to Syapru Besi is only 120 km, but it’s frankly awful. It’s always narrow, winds through endless mountains, and the shoulders range from bad to confusing to nonexistent. Several sections are just dirt tracks. We didn’t regret opting for the jeep, as we could stop several times at our convenience—if only to let Y (my Thai partner) throw up everything she had. She’d taken her usual motion sickness medication, but the constant turns, accelerations, and braking eventually made her terribly carsick.
In Nuwakot, we stopped for breakfast at a nice little restaurant, Jimbu. It was around 8:30 a.m., and we’d barely covered 60 km. The restaurant has a lovely garden overlooking the Trishuli Ganga, the river flowing down from Syapru Besi. First photo: the river in the bottom right corner, mist and clouds over the mountain on the other side.
An hour later, my second photo: the hills along the Trishuli Ganga. You can see the different crops—lush green rice paddies in the lower right and corn, already yellowed and likely harvested, in the foreground on the left. And of course, the mist and clouds through which you can glimpse the mountain on the other side of the river.
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Our first stop was just a few kilometers from Marrakech, at a lovely house perfect for relaxing and recharging before continuing. It’s called Bleu House, a little paradise on the outskirts of Marrakech. The welcome was very warm, with a beautiful pool and a lovely garden.
Next, we headed toward the Tichka Pass. The road has really improved in recent years—it’s much easier to drive now. No more getting stuck behind trucks, and today, the construction is practically finished.
Morocco has turned green after the recent rains. It’s a joy for the herds and shepherds.
I hesitated about writing this travel journal...
This summer, we only did the classics (the 3 northern parks and Zanzibar) and let a local agency take care of everything from start to finish.
No craziness, no risks, no sleeping under the stars, no self-drive, no venturing off the beaten path, no incidents, and not even any delays in the pre-planned itinerary...
But don’t think we were disappointed!
The whole family (there were 6 of us) came back with smiles and memories of great moments spent together.
So, if you're looking for a "classic" way to discover Tanzania, this is the place to be.
Our 2-week itinerary:
- Arusha (1 night upon arrival)
- Tarangire (1 night)
- Ngorongoro (2 nights in Karatu then Irmisigiyo)
- Serengeti (3 nights in Robanda, Togoro Plains, and Seronera)
- Zanzibar Stone Town (1 night)
- Zanzibar Matemwe (3 nights)
- Zanzibar Jambiani (3 nights)
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions...
So, now that I've just finished my Japan travel journal here, I figured it was high time to honor this destination we came back from so enchanted.
Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some!
Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!
I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to include fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to take her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can slip away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!
Anyway, since I love maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red); we only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband’s newly retired, I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.
In broad strokes, it was very classic:
First, we “settled in” at Luang Prabang (8 days), because we wanted and needed to.
From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we know, distances aren’t just about km!
Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4,000 Islands while stopping by the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites.
We wrapped up with the Bolaven Plateau.
A few practical notes: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having picked up our luggage in Bangkok to check it in for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized.
We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. Quick, but to be fair, we were on a “small” plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too crowded in line!
At the end of our trip, we didn’t fly out of Paksé but from the nearby airport in Thailand, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), then Bangkok and Paris.
You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the (Chinese) train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!
With that intro out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter.
To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang
It’s an ancient city that breathes, a living spring.
Here, no kitschy signs like “I miss you in Fengyu,” nor mass-produced fake antiques.
The century-old houses still bear the marks of wind and rain; in the morning, you hear roosters crowing, and at dusk, smoke gently rises from the kitchens.
This city doesn’t try to please anyone—like the spring water flowing through it, it simply keeps living at its own pace.
Located in Eryuan County, in the Dali Prefecture of Yunnan, the ancient town of Fengyu is a nationally designated historical and cultural city. It’s nicknamed the “land of scholars and ink”—during the Qing Dynasty, the Fengxiang Academy produced four *jinshi* and eleven *juren* in the imperial examinations. The Bai families made studying and farming a true legacy. Even on market days, you’ll find stalls of calligraphy and paintings, while lintels and screen walls are covered with family mottos.
Fengyu was also an important stop on the ancient Tea Horse Road. It preserves the second-largest Bai architectural complex in China, just after Xizhou. The famous traveler Xu Xiake spent seven days here and compared it to the “peach blossom paradise.”
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area).
In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
Une très belle dame, la fameuse 4L en bleu et plutôt en bon état
Avant le premier col après M'Hamid, un panneau singulier.
Il y a aussi une réplique du panneau « Tombouctou 51 jours » peint sur le mur de la Kasbah (caserne de police?), on fait les touristes en se prenant en photo à côté.
Reflexion parfaire de la montagne dans le fleuve.
Cette fois ca y est, les amandiers sont en fleurs et cela promet pour les prochains jours.
La piste est faisable avec la 208 mais un fort coup de vent rempli l’habitacle de poussière, tout est instantanément recouvert d’une fine pellicule de poussière brunâtre.
Un nomade avec ses chèvres nous surplombe, il doit se demander ce que l’on fait là avec la 208 au milieu de nulle part.
Toundoute est un petit village avant la route de montagne, niché dans une vallée aux couleurs encore une fois irréelles.
J’ai de la chance car aujourd’hui la plupart des amandiers sont en fleur et le blanc des fleurs donne un magnifique contraste avec le rouge des montagnes et des habitations.
La zone n'est pas très grande, mais le point de vue depuis la route sur la vallée vaut le détour en cette période de l'année.
Ici aussi les montagnes ont des formes bizarres, ici elles ressemblent à un mille feuille ou les couches de pierre ont été empilées les unes au dessus des autres tout en épousant le relief.
Une vieille kasbah écroulées bordant les plantations.
Cette semaine, on est vraiment dans la meilleure période pour les amandiers. En plus, les fleurs embaument l'air de leur parfum.
Je suis content d'avoir fait ce petit détour avant de remonter vers Marrakech. Toundoute est complétement hors des sentiers battus visiblement et pour ceux qui sont motorisés en tout terrain la route continue au delà du village.
Prochaine étape, la remontée de l'Atlas par la vallée de l'Ounila.
Je préfère détecter un problème proche de Ouarzazate plutôt que perdu en montagne. Le mécanicien accepte de me laisser mettre la voiture sur le pont. Sous la voiture on voit bien le choc de la barre de fer, mais rien de suspect à première vue. J’essaye de répéter le bruit avec le mécano mais rien. Je reprends donc la route un peu plus confiant dans la voiture. Mais quelques temps après le bruit revient, je le localise au niveau de la roue arrière gauche, comme si l’amortisseur ne remplissait plus sa tache et que la caisse tapait directement sur chaque bosse. Le bruit m’accompagnera toute la journée.
Je fais de multiples arrêts sur la route. Parfois je gare la voiture sur le bas côté, je marche un peu pour trouver un joli point de vue. il me faudra 4 heures pour parcourir les 60 kilomètres. La route est en bon état, et je ne croiserai quasiment personne.
Panorama sur la vallée et les montagnes ocres, ici la mosquée est peinte en blanc.
Un panneau indique un panorama sur la vallée. je gare la voiture et marche jusqu'au bord de la falaise, la vue est grandiose. Il faut faire attention à ne pas tomber dans le vide, il n'y pas de barrières.
Plus loin, je trouve un autre point de vue où la rivière a creusé un canyon.
Par rapport aux autres routes de la région, c'est vraiment grandiose. Je trouve cette section de 60km vraiment magnifique. A chaque virage, on tombe sur un nouveau panorama.
Ici les roches ont des teintes vraiment rouges impressionnantes.
Là un village qui domine la vallée.
voila le village avec la mosquée blanche , c'était en février 2015 !
tu es un pro-photo !
merci
francia
En plus le paysage est encore une fois étonnant.
Maintenant on évolue dans une large palette de couleurs, du rouge, du vert, du jaune et même du blanc, du sel ?
Clairement cette portion de route entre Ait Benhaddou et Telouet est tout simplement magnifique, c’est pour moi du même niveau que les gorges du Dades ou du Todhra, immanquable dans la région. Le meilleur choix quand on vient de Marakech est sans doute de descendre par la route principale et de remonter par cette route secondaire. C’est vrai que la route est beaucoup plus étroite et sinueuse mais dans le même temps, je n’ai croisé quasiment aucune voiture de l’après midi. Ce qui rend le voyage très paisible car on avance à son rythme tout en admirant le superbe paysage.
Je prends le thé sur la terrasse face à la vue. On est ici en montagne, à 1800m d’altitude et cela se sent car l’air est frais.
Puis après un couloir on tombe sur de magnifiques pièces.
Je suis bouche bée.
J’oublie de dire que je suis tout seul en plus à visiter le site, ce qui ajoute à la sérénité du lieu.
La Kasbah est vraiment une étape incontournable dans le coin, je n’aurai jamais cru voir cela car je n’avais vu aucune photo sur le net avant et le descriptif du Routard n’était pas très clair.
La route depuis Telouet jusqu’à la nationale est réputée difficile, mais je ne trouve pas. J’ai l’impression d’avoir vu bien pire depuis une semaine, là on ne rencontre quasiment personne donc c’est pas un problème que le goudron soit abimé car on peut éviter facilement les trous, la bande de goudron fait juste la taille d'une voiture. Par contre c’est sur que l’on roule pas vite, mais le paysage aux couleurs multiples dont ce vert foncé, mérite de prendre son temps.
On la domine complétement, avec le minaret de la mosquée de la Koutoubia dans l’alignement.
Alors que je suis attablé et profite de la vue. Je fais la rencontre de Hanane et de ses filles, touristes marocains en provenance de Casablanca. Comme elles n’avaient pas de place assise, elles restaient debout dans le café alors je leur avais proposé de s’asseoir sur les chaises vides de ma table. Visiblement ma proposition les a beaucoup touchées, elles tiennent à m'offrir des gateaux marocains puis nous faisons connaissance. De fil en aiguille, nous resterons finalement ensemble toute la soirée à la table du café, à regarder le spectacle de la place tout en discutant de sujets passionnants. Une soirée mémorable, une des plus belles de mon séjour au Maroc. Tous les deux du même âge, la trentaine, nous avons parlé de nos vies, tellement similaires malgré que nous vivions dans deux pays à la culture différente, ses filles qui parlent français et ont un age proche de mes enfants m’ont posé pleins de questions sur la France, sur nos habitudes, c’était très drôle… C’est finalement la première fois du voyage que j’échange avec une femme marocaine.
La aussi, je ne suis pas très emballé, il faut dire que je ne suis pas du genre « shopping alcoolique » du tout, et réellement les vendeurs et rabatteurs perdent leur temps à me proposer de regarder leur marchandise car je n’y vois aucun intérêt, même pas le fameux « plaisir des yeux ». Par contre, l’animation de ces ruelles, les mobylettes qui passent à toute vitesse, les ânes avec la charrette, les bousculades, le piétinement tellement il y a de monde… Je trouve la promenade bien agréable en faisant le tour du souk jusqu’à la Medersa et retour vers la place.
Je profite de la terrasse panoramique d’un café en face de la Medersa pour admirer la vue avec mon premier et unique Coca Cola du voyage. J’aime bien cette capacité d’adaptation des marques américaines qui stylisent leur logo dans l’alphabet local dans le monde entier.
Avec la brume aujourd’hui, on ne les distingue malheureusement pas très bien. C’est dommage car le contraste entre la ville rouge, les palmiers et la neige des montagnes est un peu un symbole de Marrakech.
Les détails de la décoration du bâtiment sont saisissants de beauté.
Le moindre petit détail est travaillé et le résultat est superbe. A l’étage on peut visiter les appartements ou vivaient les étudiants.
En continuant ma promenade je m’achète pour quelques Dirham un pain rempli d’une boite de thon à la tomate dans une épicerie. C’est la valeur sure au Maroc pour un déjeuner sur le pouce. Je traverse la zone du Souk où les artisans travaillent le fer et font de superbes lampes et autres ouvrages magnifiques, pour le coup je suis enfin emballé par le souk, qui jusqu’à présent semblait être un alignement de magasins de souvenirs plus inintéressant l’un que l’autre.
Ici il y a vraiment un savoir faire, c’est impressionnant de voir la façon de travailler le métal dans des locaux tout petits.
Plus loin, je vois des artisans confectionner des fenêtres en bois. Le détail mérite que l’on appelle cela de l’ébénisterie tant ils s’appliquent à faire des colonnades torsadées et des motifs.
Je prends mon temps pour regarder les saltimbanques de la place, je remarque que les familles marocaines se prêtent vraiment au jeu de tous ces amuseurs publics alors que les touristes (européens et asiatiques) semblent plus en retrait, appareil photo dans la main, mais ne rentrent pas trop dans le jeu. Les serpents ne sont vraiment pas mon truc, je préviens tout de suite les charmeurs de serpents qu’il ne faut pas m’approcher avec leur reptile car vraiment je vais pas être bien, je préfère regarder de très loin les cobras qui se dressent et attaquent un bout de tissu que leur agite le charmeur.
Je sors ma dernière pièce de 10 Dirham pour me prendre un jus de fruit frais à un stand et le boit tranquillement en regardant le ciel prendre des teintes rosées au dessus du minaret.
Un des nombreux vendeurs de fausses montres finit par m’aborder pour me refourguer une copie de toquante. Je lui dis qu’allant à Genève demain, c’est la pire des idées imaginables que de rentrer en Suisse avec une contrefaçon de montre, je doute que les douaniers suisses trouvent cela amusant. Ca le fait rire, et il reste à côté de moi, probablement en espérant que je change d’avis. Puis on commence à parler, je lui demande si il est Sénégalais, il me répond que oui comme la plupart des vendeurs de la place. Alors on échange sur son pays d'origine puis sur le Maroc, comment il vient ici, ses conditions, la France, bref ce jeune est vraiment super sympa. Je lui dit que je ne suis jamais allé au Sénégal mais que c’est un pays qui m’attire et que j’aimerai bien y voyager. Il me demande si j’ai déjà mangé Sénégalais, comme je réponds la négative il me conseille si j’ai le temps d’aller manger au restaurant sénégalais du coin. Demain je suis déjà parti, alors il me propose d’y aller ce soir. Bon allez pourquoi pas, les voyages servent bien à faire de nouvelles expériences et à se laisser porter par les rencontres et puis j’ai jamais gouté cette cuisine et les plats sont pas cher il me dit. On rentre dans le souk municipal qui se trouve juste derrière la place, il fait sombre, le coin est un peu glauque et sale, c’est ici que se retrouvent les vendeurs sénégalais qui vendent les copies, mais aussi ou certains saltimbanques font leur pause en achetant un thé à la menthe.
Vila beach
Sunset behind Santiago
The rocks and sea at Ponta Preta
At the summit of Monte Batalha
Calheta
Calheta de Baixo
The beaches just keep coming...
The dunes
The 3 coconut trees, a landmark to find the track
Boca da Ribeira beach
The hills on our right
Ribeira Dom João
Barreiro
The old track
The church in Vila do Maio
2- Around San Pedro
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those stunning doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a touch of saffron, and occasionally rosewater.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (during the week and daytime; colors are more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you’ll see some men dressed in Western clothes, they’re very few. The white dishdasha is truly the shared attire of all men. The dishdasha, which has no hood, is distinguished by a small pom-pom attached to the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go overboard with it! "It smells like the pom-pom" is an expression that’s now part of our shared language, my husband and I.
Another must of men’s attire is the kuma, a small round head covering, usually white with brightly colored patterns. The keffiyeh is also worn (but without the cord called an agal in Arab countries), and it’s mostly worn by those with roots in the desert, from what I understood.
And what about the women, you might ask? Some are veiled, some in full black (but not a burka—more like a chador + abaya), due to the influence of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, whereas the traditional outfit used to be a layering of very colorful dresses. Most of the women we saw wore neutral clothing, a plain veil over their hair, but with their faces uncovered. We also saw many saris and colorful veils—don’t forget that 40% of the population consists of Indian, Nepalese, and Bangladeshi immigrants, who work a lot in tourism, hospitality, restaurants, services, and construction.
Just to clarify, as a tourist, there’s no pressure to wear a veil, and never any disapproving looks. Of course, you’ll save the mini shorts, plunging necklines, bare shoulders, and midriffs for the hotel terrace—but I’d say that’s the same for men and women, and with the sun being strong, it’s better for your skin too.
Here’s the introduction! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
