Pour la fete nationale chinoise, et quelques jours apres le trentieme anniversaire de la mort du grand leader Mao Zedong, il fallait bien que je m'initie enfin aux joies du tourisme rouge et que je rehausse mon niveau ideologique qui avait eu tendance a chuter depuis quelques annees de vie shanghaienne. Une fois n'est pas coutume, je reste donc en Chine pour ces vacances d'octobre, ce qui est un excellent moyen de "rejoindre les larges masses".
J'ai donc pris hier un avion pour Nanchang, capitale de la province du Jiangxi, dans le sud-est du pays. Je n'avais pas prevu de commencer mon sejour en visitant la ville, et me suis donc rendu immediatement a la gare routiere, pour prendre un bus pour Jiujiang, au pied des monts Lushan. Ce fut un echec, une redoutable guerriere aux accents martiaux hurlant a qui voulait l'entendre qu'il n'y avait plus de place a bord des bus pour cette destination. Qu'a cela ne tienne, la gare ferroviaire n'etait pas tres loin, j'aurais sans doute plus de chance la-bas.
Il fut difficile de me frayer un chemin jusqu'a l'imposant edifice, encore plus difficile d'y entrer, mais j'ai malgre tout reussi a penetrer a l'interieur de l'immense salle ou se vendent les tickets. Quelques dizaines de milliers d'intrepides pionniers avaient apparemment eu la meme idee que moi, ce qui en ce jour de fete nationale n'est guere etonnant, et ma tentative ferroviaire se conclut donc elle aussi par un echec. Pas de train pour Jiujiang avant tard le soir. Qu'a cela ne tienne, la province est vaste, et les lieux de pelerinage revolutionnaire nombreux, et j'avais heureusement vaguement potasse une carte de la province avant de venir. J'ai donc achete un ticket pour Ji'an, deux heures et demie vers le sud.
J'ai profite du temps imparti pour avaler quelques raviolis en face de la gare, et admirer une serveuse qui portait un t-shirt sur lequel etait ecrit en gros et dans un francais sans faute "veux tu sortir avec moi?" Je suppose qu'il s'agit la d'une manifestation d'internationalisme proletarien et d'amitie entre les peuples, et ai pris cela pour un signe favorable. Un peu plus tard, un serveur est venu me faire la conversation et m'a rapidement dit qu'un des avantages de la Chine par rapport a la France, c'est qu'il y a un parti unique. "C'est plus efficace" me dit-il. Tres bien, j'etais donc sur la bonne voie.
J'ai fini par me re-engouffrer a l'interieur de la gare, ai attendu le train qui avait une heure de retard, et a l'issue d'un trajet sans encombre, suis arrive a Ji'an pour l'heure du diner. Un signe favorable supplementaire: j'ai fait le trajet assis a cote d'une fille originaire de Ruijin, petite ville revolutionnaire bien connue que je compte visiter prochainement.
Ville moche et sans interet, Ji'an n'etait pas autant animee que je l'aurais cru en ce soir de fete nationale. De surcroit, il me fut extraordinairement difficile de trouver un restaurant en centre ville, un fait plutot rare en Chine. Certes, un restaurant c'est une manifestation de confort bourgeois et ca represente donc tous les travers de la societe archaique dans laquelle la classe laborieuse se faisait - deja - exploiter par des consommateurs exploiteurs, mais bon, il faut bien prendre des forces quand meme avant de faire un pelerinage revolutionnaire.
Ce matin j'ai donc pris le bus pour Jinggangshan, un des sites revolutionnaires les plus importants de Chine. A la fin des annees 20, le camarade Mao Zedong et un noyau dur de valeureux resistants a la volonte de fer ont etabli ici une "base revolutionnaire", la premiere du genre en Chine, avant de s'en faire deloger par les forces reactionnaires.
A Jinggangshan, on fait donc du maotourisme. Son buste et son portrait sont partout, et les chants revolutionnaires les plus connus passent en musique d'ambiance. Les maotouristes d'aujourd'hui sont quasiment tous d'infames bourgeois reactionnaires pietinant sans gene les principes fondamentaux du marxisme leninisme, et il ne m'est donc pas tres difficile de me melanger a eux.
On visite negligemment la maison de Mao et du camarade Zhu De, et on va se faire prendre en photo devant les monuments aux martyrs de la revolution situes sur une petite colline. Tandis que quelques groupes en casquette blanche ou jaune grimpent les marches en brandissant de gigantesques drapeaux rouges (ou blancs, couleur de la societe qui leur paie le voyage) et que d'autres crachent et hurlent negligemment a proximite des symboles de l'heroisme et de l'abnegation des pionniers de la Revolution, quelques vendeurs peinent a vendre leurs stocks de petits livres rouges ou il est ecrit quelque part que "les masses sont raisonnables". Puisqu'on peut les raisonner, j'ai donc essaye de faire comprendre aux masses qu'il est sale et impoli de cracher bruyamment n'importe ou, mais ma verve revolutionnaire etant tres loin d'egaler celle des leaders dont on peut ici admirer les statues, mon appel a une mini revolution culturelle anti crachats n'a pas ete entendu.
Les plus ideologiquement purs des maotouristes arborent l'uniforme bleu de la quatrieme armee des paysans et ouvriers revolutionnaires de Chine, le temps d'une photo ou ils brandissent l'etendard de cette ancienne armee, tout en prenant des poses martiales, avant de couiner bruyamment en regardant leur photo sur l'ecran du loueur de costumes. On m'a propose de faire de meme, mais j'ai decline poliment la proposition, arguant du fait que j'etais un element contre-revolutionnaire, et ne pouvais donc decemment pas porter un tel uniforme en un tel lieu. Ca en a fait rire quelques uns autour, sans que je sache si ce qui les amusait le plus etait mon accent ou le trait d'humour que j'avais essaye de faire.
Un peu plus loin, la television du Jiangxi filmait une atroce kermesse ou les plus mauvais chanteurs de la province massacraient quelques chants revolutionnaires, sous les non-applaudissements d'une mini-foule qui avait l'air de s'emmerder autant que moi. L'animateur de l'evenement a tout de meme reussi a me faire sourire en complimentant une brave representante du peuple en ces termes: "vous avez vraiment de tres beaux vetements, on ne croirait pas que vous avez 50 ans." Juste derriere, le musee des combats de Jinggangshan presente une collection de cartes et de photos heroiques, ou quelques dizaines de maotouristes font semblant de s'interesser, entre deux gloussements provoques par le passage de l'Etranger de service.
A peine sorti du cybercafe ou j'ai poste les precedents messages, je suis parti decouvrir la vie nocturne de Jinggangshan, qui se resume essentiellement a un quartier commercant ou on peut acheter toutes sortes de babioles, en grande partie bien entendu maoistes. Je suis tombe par hasard devant une de ces boutiques ou d'enormes statues de Mao decoraient la vitrine. Je suis rentre voir, et a l'interieur il n'y avait que ca. Bustes et statues de Mao, de toutes les tailles, tous les materiaux, et le representant a tous les ages.
Je suis tombe en contemplation devant des bustes dores, dont je peinais a croire qu'ils etaient reellement faits de ce metal precieux. Une vendeuse est venue m'expliquer que l'alliage utilise etait en partie compose d'or. J'avais enfin une occasion de m'amuser:
l'or est un symbole de la bourgeoisie, et pourtant vous l'utilisez pour representer le President Mao, symbole du proletariat. Pourquoi? hein? le President Mao n'est il pas le representant du proletariat? si si alors pourquoi utiliser un materiau bourgeois pour le representer?
(j'adore inventer des paradoxes pour mettre nos amis chinois dans l'embarras)
La vendeuse etait un peu perdue mais a bredouille quelques explications comme quoi il n'y avait rien d'ideologique la dedans, mais qu'on utilisait une jolie couleur pour rendre hommage a Mao.
mouais, moi je trouve que ce sont des methodes revisionnistes, ai-je ajoute.
Amusement du personnel.
J'ai farfouille un peu dans la boutique, et suis tombe sur une espece de petit bloc en plexiglas, ou sont incrustees les photos des 4 leaders Mao Zedong, Deng Xiaoping, Jiang Zemin et Hu Jintao. C'etait la premiere fois que je voyais un article de propagande les representant tous les 4, puisque le culte de Hu Jintao n'en est qu'a ses balbutiements, ca ne fait que 4 ans qu'il est president.
Comme ca coutait 10 yuans je l'ai achete, mais le patron a insiste pour m'en faire cadeau, car ca lui faisait plaisir de voir un etranger s'interesser au President Mao. Apparemment il a cru que mes remarques precedentes etaient sinceres.
Nous avons donc discute un moment de Mao, et il m'a montre des photos de sa collection personnelle de figures maoistes. Des statues geantes de cinq et six metres de haut decorent sa demeure apparemment. Le type adorait Mao et lui vouait un vrai culte. Tout le peuple de Jinggangshan adore Mao, m'a t il dit. Tous les presidents du Monde entier respectent Mao, a-t-il ajoute. Je n'ai pas ose dementir, car il a quand meme ete sympa avec moi.
Je suis ensuite retourne sur les lieux du concours de chant de l'apres midi, et il y avait une foule de quelques dizaines de personnes en train de danser sur des airs revolutionnaires. Des quadra et quinquagenaires pour la plupart. Peu avant huit heures, une foule un peu plus importante s'est rassemblee pour assister au recital de chants maoistes que des amateurs s'empressaient d'entonner. Avant que cela ne commence, je discutais avec un type qui insistait pour que j'y participe. J'avais commis l'erreur de lui dire que j'en conaissais quelques uns, et malheureusement l'equipe de television etait juste a cote a ce moment la, ils m'ont donc longuement filme en gros plan tandis que j'essayais de justifier mon refus de chanter. Ils ont fini par me lacher, et j'ai continue a discute avec le type.
en France, vous avez eu deux grands hommes: Napoleon et Hitler.
Bon, ce n'est pas la premiere fois que j'entends ce discours, meme si en general les chinois savent qu'Hitler etait allemand (oui je sais, on pourrait dire qu'il etait autrichien). J'ai donc repete les memes arguments que d'habitude, en sachant que ca ne servirait pas a grand chose:
Hitler etait le type le plus mauvais du XXeme siecle, il est responsable de nombreux massacres. Bon, ca, les chinois s'en foutent completement, les histoires de massacre ca ne les interesse pas trop, ils preferent les histoires de courage et de gloire, et apparemment c'est Hitler qui symbolise le mieux ces "valeurs".
Je suis donc passe a la phase 2:
tu sais ce que les japonais ont fait en Chine pendant la guerre? ouais, salauds de japonais ben ouais, et bien non seulement Hitler a fait pareil en Europe, mais en plus il a soutenu le Japon qui aggressait la Chine
(Ca c'est deja plus grave que des massacres ou genocides) ah j'etais pas au courant, les allemands et les japonais etaient ensemble pendant la guerre? et oui pas grave, Hitler etait quand meme un type bien. Il y a eu deux grands hommes dans l'histoire: Mao Zedong et Hitler.
Bon, j'ai pas insiste, je savais que c'etait inutile et que de toute facon ils sont des dizaines de millions a penser comme lui.
Le theme impose etait celui des chants rouges, il fallait donc ne chanter que ca, mais les chants que les gens choisissaient etaient plutot gentillets. Rien de tres revolutionnairement violent. Certains et certaines ne chantaient pas trop mal, tandis que d'autres etaient lamentables.
Les types de la television sont revenus a la charge et ont insiste pendant vingt minutes pour que je m'inscrive. J'ai fini par ceder, en me disant qu'il fallait que quelqu'un releve le niveau ideologique de la soiree, et que j'etais l'homme de la situation. Ce n'est donc pas le fameux "l'Orient est rouge", ideologiquement solide mais trop convenu, que j'ai chante, mais un truc plus rare et plus fort.
La, je dois dire que ca a ete mon heure de gloire, car j'ai recu une belle salve d'applaudissements quand je me suis presente sur la scene. Les deux animateurs de la tele m'ont fait parler deux trois minutes, puis m'ont invite a chanter.
Voici donc ce que j'ai chante (en chinois bien sur, la traduction francaise c'est pour que vous voyiez de quoi ca parle)
Tian da di da, buru dang de enqing da,
Le ciel est grand, la terre est grande, mais pas autant que la bonté du Parti,
die qin niang qin, buru Mao zhuxi qin,
Le père est cher, la mère est chère, mais pas autant que le Président Mao,
Qian hao wan hao, buru shehuizhuyi hao,
Mille, voire dix mille bonnes choses, ne valent pas autant que le socialisme,
He shen hai shen, buru jieji di youai shen.
La rivière est profonde, la mer est profonde, mais pas autant que l'amitié de classe.
Mao Zedong sixiang shi geming di bao,
La pensée Mao est le trésor de la Révolution,
Shei yao shi fandui ta, shei jiu shi women de diren.
Quiconque voudra s'y opposer sera notre ennemi.
ah ah ah, ca les a bien fait marrer de voir un etranger chanter un truc comme ca, et l'animateur a du avouer qu'il ne connaissait pas cette chanson. Il a demande au public, et seuls certains ont confirme qu'ils avaient deja entendu ca.
Je chante tres tres mal, mais cette chanson est tres facile, sa melodie est simple et reguliere, et meme pour moi ce n'est donc pas tres dur a chanter, meme si artistiquement le resultat a du etre catastrophique. Enfin bon, ca m'aura donne droit a un concert d'applaudissements.
"Jamais entendu un chant rouge aussi rouge", m'a dit le presentateur.
(ben ouais, le yangguizi, quand il fait la revolution, il la fait pas a moitie)
Il me l'a donc refait chanter encore une fois, et s'en est suivi une longue interview (cinq ou dix minutes), ou il m'a ete demander de scander quelques slogans devant les cameras, pour que ce soit bien dans la boite et diffuse. J'ignore quelle audience j'aurai, mais ce serait quand meme la honte que des amis tombent la dessus en zappant.
Il m'a finalement fait promettre devant camera de revenir demain apres midi pour participer en direct live au concours de chants rouges. "Je chanterai la plus rouge des chansons" ai-je du dire plusieurs fois devant la camera. Merdalor, du direct! Ca m'etait jamais arrive ca.
Certains objecteront peut etre que c'est pas tres glorieux de chanter ce genre de choses a la tele, mais ca ne me pose aucun probleme de conscience bien que je ne sois pas du tout communiste. Et puis apres tout, je me suis deja incline devant la statue du leader coreen Kim Il Sung, j'ai trinque a la sante de Saddam Hussein, je me suis joint a des pelerins chiites dans leur mausolee sacre, et je collectionne les portraits de Khomeini et d'Ahmadinejad, je ne suis donc plus a une compromission ideologique pres. 🙂
Juste apres ma "performance", je suis alle au restaurant car mon estomac criait famine. Le premier plat que j'ai vu sur le menu s'appelait "san ge daibiao" (les trois representations). Pour ceux qui l'ignorent, c'est la theorie inventee par l'ancien president Jiang Zemin pour justifier le virage a droite du Parti Communiste, ce dernier representant desormais les forces productives avancees (les patrons), la culture avancee et les larges masses. Bon, passons sur ce naufrage ideologique.
J'ai trouve ca assez marrant qu'un plat porte ce nom (c'etait en fait un assortiment de trois legumes). Je ne l'ai finalement pas commande, mais je pourrai essayer ca demain, pour voir. D'autres habitues de la Chine ont-ils deja vu ce truc la au menu d'un restaurant, ou est-ce la une ultime finesse du maotourisme de Jinggangshan?
Ma lecture du chinois est encore bien trop faible pour avoir eventuellement deja remarque ce plat...
PS: je rentre justement d'un diner avec un pote et ses 2 oncles qui travaillent tous 2 pour le parti. Mais ca je ne le savais pas... Et voila que je me suis retrouve dans le "restaurant gouvernemental" de Kunming, en plein milieu de la zone des batiments officiels. Au debut j'etais franchement pas a l'aise, mais en fait c'etait une experience plutot marrante et pour le moins inatendue...
Tu avais deja parle d'Hitler dans un autre de tes carnets et ca m'avait deja interpelle: est-ce que cette "theorie" selon laquelle Hitler est un "grand homme" (presque l'egal de Mao Zedong...) est quelque chose qui faisait partie de la propagande du Parti (ce qui me semblerait tres surprenant pour tout un tas de raisons)? Si oui, pourquoi? Et si non comment se fait-il que certains chinois le considerent comme tel??
Napoleon-Hitler-Mao Zedong ca fait quand meme une sacree triplette...
Je ne m'explique pas cette admiration pour Hitler, d'autant plus qu'elle est tres largement partagee. Il parait d'ailleurs que ca ne concerne pas que la Chine, mais pas mal de pays d'Asie.
Le culte de la force et de la grandeur y est pour quelque chose, mais il y a surement une dimension qui m'echappe.
Je ne m'explique pas cette admiration pour Hitler, d'autant plus qu'elle est tres largement partagee. Il parait d'ailleurs que ca ne concerne pas que la Chine, mais pas mal de pays d'Asie.
Le culte de la force et de la grandeur y est pour quelque chose, mais il y a surement une dimension qui m'echappe.
En te lisant je me disais au contraire que cette admiration était sûrement très primaire, s'appliquant uniquement à l'image, l'archétype, du "héros", sans chercher plus loin que cette représentation..... Un peu comme les tee-shirts et autres affiches à l'effigie du " Ché " qui sont vendus par milliers aussi bien aux Etats Unis qu'en Europe ou en Afrique, à des gens ignorant tout d'Ernesto "Ché" Guevara, et ne s'attachant qu'au symbole.
Par contre j'ai bien aimé ta réflexion, "peu importe si Hitler était Allemand, ou même Autrichien" car en effet, c'était toute l'Europe continentale qui était malade d'Hitler, au faîte de sa nuisance et qu'il n'y a pas lieu de clouer au pilori une Nation plutôt qu'une autre au prétexte qu'elle l'aurait vu naître ou même porté au pouvoir. C'est un raccourci certes, mais un raccourci auquel personnellement, j'adhère .
Catherine
" La lucidité est la blessure la plus proche du soleil" René Char
Ce matin, j'ai alterne tourisme rouge et tourisme vert. Je n'invente rien ici, puisqu'il s'agit la a peu pres du slogan de l'office du tourisme local.
Jinggangshan, ce n'est en effet pas seulement un lieu de pelerinage revolutionnaire mais aussi de tres beaux paysages de montagne, a la fois boises et escarpes. Comme le temps me manquait, je n'ai visite que les deux sites principaux, ou j'ai notamment fait une ballade de deux heures sur un sentier de montagne, entre cascades et rochers plongeants. Comme partout en Chine, les noms fantaisistes attribues aux differentes etapes ne manquaient pas, mais ici, outre les habituels rochers en forme de nuage du tigre qui joue de la flute et autres cascades de l'eau qui tombe, se cachait une "grotte de l'armee rouge", histoire de rappeler quand meme ou on etait. Pres du depart du telepherique, une replique en cire du President Mao invitait les maotouristes a poser en photo.
Un peu plus loin, on peut admirer un ancien avant poste rouge qui domine la chaine de montagnes, et ou on peut voir le chemin qu'aurait emprunte une fois Mao et Zhu De portant du riz (on aurait aime voir des photos!)
De retour en ville, j'ai mange dans un bon petit restaurant ou une jeune proletaire m'a invite a me faire visiter la ville quand j'aurais fini de manger. On ne s'est en fait pas promene tres longtemps, car j'avais un rendez vous important a ne pas manquer...
Les dizaines d'employes de la chaine de television etaient deja sur place, et certains d'entre eux m'attendaient avec impatience. Malgre les quelques dizaines de chanteurs et chanteuses qui allaient se produire aujourd'hui, la vedette, ce serait moi.
La presentatrice m'a fait repeter un moment le dialogue qu'on aurait et a trois heures piles, notre duo a donc fait l'introduction du concours de chants rouges. "Je vais chanter le chant le plus rouge" m'a-t-on fait dire en francais et en chinois.
Puis j'ai rejoint le studio improvise ou attendaient egalement les autres participants. Il y en avait de tous les ages, certains ayant l'air aussi incongrus que moi, tandis que d'autres s'etaient mis sur leur 31 pour le grand evenement. Beaucoup d'entre eux avaient fait le deplacement de Nanchang, juste pour ce concours. Deux ou trois jeunes filles etaient absolument sublimes dans leurs robes rouges, tandis que quelques soldats en uniforme, eux aussi participant au concours, etaient la pour rappeler le theme de l'emission. Il y avait encore une fille en uniforme des annees 30 et un couple deguise en je ne sais quelle minorite nationale. Et puis il y avait moi, en tenue un peu degueu avec les chaussures de montagne et le pantalon en partie eclabousse de boue. Certes, pour faire peuple, y a pas mieux! En tout cas j'etais la vedette incontestee, tous les techniciens et animateurs s'affairant autour de moi pour me briefer. J'ai ete interviewe je ne sais combien de fois, les memes questions revenant toujours plus ou moins. Outre les sempiternelles questions que les chinois posent toujours aux etrangers, on m'a egalement demande d'ou me venait mon gout pour les chants revolutionnaires. Je n'avais pas menti pendant le debut de l'emission: c'est reellement en ecoutant ces chants rouges que j'ai appris le chinois.
Puis ce fut a mon tour de chanter, j'avais choisi la meme chanson qu'hier, et fus naturellement toujours aussi lamentable, meme si je n'ai pas vraiment subi le track du direct. En fait je m'en foutais, je savais que j'etais le plus mauvais de tous, et que ma presence a cette emission n'etait qu'un gag. J'acceptais ce role sans aucun probleme.
Les trois membres du jury (preside par un vrai sosie de Jiang Zemin) m'ont felicite et m'ont demande de repasser un peu plus tard pour nous departager avec d'autres participants. Argh, il allait falloir recommencer. Et en plus, la presentatrice m'a dit que je devrais choisir une autre chanson. Bon, pas grave, je connais encore par coeur l'Orient est Rouge, et pouvais donc le leur chanter si ca leur faisait tellement plaisir.
Une bonne heure plus tard, je suis donc repasse avec trois autres candidats, et me suis a nouveau donne en spectacle. Chaque membre du jury a ensuite fait etat de ses remarques, et a complimente les trois autres chanteurs. Bon, je sais bien que j'ai ete nul, mais un petit mot pour moi aurait ete sympa quand meme. Et le verdict est alors tombe: c'est le numero 109 qui gagne, en raison de ses efforts admirables. Merdalor, le 109 c'est moi! Le president du jury m'a donc demande, toujours en direct, si j'acceptais de participer au grand show du 15 octobre a Nanchang.
J'avoue avoir ete pris un peu au depourvu, j'ignorais meme l'existence d'un tel spectacle, et ai donc dit une belle connerie (toujours en direct):
il faut que je demande d'abord a mon boss
Bon, c'etait de l'humour, mais je doute que le public l'ait compris. Me voila donc bon pour le betisier (s'il existe). On m'a remis un gros morceau de carton tout rouge avec ecrit certificat de reussite, ou un truc comme ca, que j'ai du longuement exhiber devant les cameras, pendant les interminables autres interviews qui m'attendaient. Il fut cette fois surtout question de mon amour pour les chants revolutionnaires. Pas besoin de pipeauter ici, car il me suffisait d'etre sincere.
Le 15, ce sera un dimanche, et je devrais donc pouvoir faire un rapide aller retour en avion de Shanghai pour y participer. Je ne sais pas dans quoi je m'embarque, mais j'espere que ca ne va pas devenir la plus colossale galere de voyage jamais racontee sur VF.
Quelques interviews encore, avant de me laisser partir attrapper mon bus (ben ouais, avant d'etre une star de la television, je suis quand meme un voyageur), ou une journaliste a moitie hysterique me demandait si j'aimais et respectais le President Mao. C'est le genre de circonstances dans lesquelles une connerie peut partir tres vite, et j'ai heureusement reussi a improviser un joli numero d'equilibriste ideologique: "je m'interesse beaucoup au President Mao".
J'ai quand meme un peu de peine pour les vrais chanteurs et chanteuses qui s'etaient beaucoup investis dans ce spectacle, et dont certains chantaient reellement tres bien. Des trois qui devaient etre departages avec moi, deux avaient vraiment du talent, et je ne pourrais pas leur reprocher de m'en vouloir.
Avant de rejoindre la gare routiere, j'ai fait mes adieux (ou plutot mes au revoir) a l'equipe de television et aux autres candidats, en regrettant de ne pas pouvoir me joindre au pot qui attendait tout le monde. Mais bon, je voulais attraper le dernier bus et ne pas attendre le lendemain matin pour repartir. J'ai ensuite affronte les masses qui m'attendaient. Ah ca oui, j'avais certainement "gagne l'estime des masses", et meme apres avoir quitte les lieux de l'emission, je voyais bien que pleins de gens me souriaient et me montraient du doigt (beaucoup plus que d'habitude, car en tant qu'etranger, on voit assez souvent ce genre de chose). L'explication etait toute simple, apparemment tout le monde en ville regardait cette emission, ce que j'ai remarque en voyant les ecrans allumes dans tous les magasins. Une fois arrive a la gare routiere, j'ai encore eu mon petit succes car plusieurs ecrans retransmettaient la fameuse emission.
Finalement, de retour a Ji'an, j'ai retrouve mon anonymat. Bizarre, puisque c'etait la chaine de tele du Jiangxi qui retransmettait ca, et qu'il n'y avait pas de raison pour que les gens de Jinggangshan regardent l'emission plus que les autres. Il y a bien un petit troupeau de filles qui a couine en me voyant arriver a l'hotel, mais c'etait en fait des prostituees. Rien a voir donc avec mon nouveau statut de superstar provinciale.
euh, pour l'instant mon nom de scene c'est mon nom chinois, eh eh. J'ai bien peur que yangguizi ne passe vraiment tres tres mal, quand on sait ce que ca veut dire.
Qui aurait cru qu'un authentique bourgeois imperialiste comme moi deviendrait pour quelques instants la nouvelle icone du maoisme dans la province d'origine de la Revolution? 😛 Je me demande bien jusqu'ou ils comptent faire aller cette bouffonerie, mais apparemment ca ne les gene pas de me payer billets d'avion et nuit d'hotel pour les besoins de "la cause".
Promis, apres ca, j'arrete de me moquer de la Star'ac! 😊
PS: yangguizi n'est que mon pseudo sur VF, et le surnom humoristique que me donnent une poignee d'amis chinois. Mon "vrai" nom chinois est beaucoup moins mechant. 🙂
Quand j'ai posté mon message, je n'avais pas encore lu le récit du concours (j'avais imprimé pour lire), je ne savais donc pas que nous comptions sur VF une vedette internationale de la chanson. C'est énorme, il y a de la matière pour faire un bel article dans un journal.
J'ai hâte de lire le compte-rendu de la finale, tous derrière Patriiiiiiiiiiiiiiick !!!!
Nota : On désigne sous le nom de balade, une randonnée souvent courte ou peu épuisante 😉.
J'ai découvert que balade était aussi le nom que donnent les néos-calédoniens à leur pays, quand nous écris-tu un récit sous forme de ballade d'une balade en balade ?
Lorsque les reactionnaires ont finalement reussi a deloger Mao et ses compagnons de Jinggangshan, ceux-ci ont pris le chemin de Ruijin, dans le sud est du Jiangxi, non loin de la frontiere avec la province du Fujian.
Ruijin allait donc etre ma destination suivante, mais, en tant que bourgeois reactionnaire, j'ai pris le train plutot que de faire le trajet a pieds comme l'aurait fait n'importe quel veritable revolutionnaire proletarien. Le train de 11 heures du matin avait un peu de retard, et je ne suis finalement arrive a Ruijin qu'en milieu d'apres midi.
Pendant le trajet, la moitie du wagon a evidemment defile pour me poser toujours les memes questions. Ca devient vraiment lassant au bout de plusieurs annees. Heureusement qu'aucun d'entre eux n'avait regarde la tele hier apres midi, sinon j'aurais ete cuit. J'ai eu tres chaud quand un des passagers a fait une allusion a l'emission a laquelle j'avais participe, mais heureusement qu'il ne l'avait pas vue non plus.
Un paysan qui puait a dix metres (enfin je veux dire un representant du peuple qui meprisait le confort bourgeois) est a son tour venu s'asseoir en face de moi. J'aurais bien voulu lui passer mon deodorant, mais il est malheureusement interdit de s'en servir a bord du train.
Petit retour en arriere: en entrant dans la gare de Nanchang il y a trois jours, j'ai du passer ma valise au detecteur, et un agent ferroviaire m'a demande de l'ouvrir apres avoir vu un truc sur son ecran. C'est mon deodorant qui avait attire son attention. Je lui ai explique ce que c'etait (mon nez me dit qu'il n'a pas du en voir souvent), et il m'a dit que je ne pouvais pas emmener une chose pareille a bord du train. Mille fois helas, tout etait ecrit en francais dessus, et je n'arrivais donc pas a lui expliquer que ce n'etait pas un article dangereux. Il etait obsede par le petit logo representant une flamme qu'on pouvait voir sur le flacon. Son superieur l'avait heureusement convaincu que ce n'etait pas dangereux, mais ils m'ont quand meme fait promettre de ne surtout pas le sortir de ma valise a bord du train.
Mais je m'egare... retour a bord du train d'aujourd'hui et a l'arrivee en gare de Ruijin. Superbe gare flambant neuve, la plus belle que j'ai vue en Chine, tranchant avec le sous developpement de la region. Flanquee d'une enorme etoile rouge, cette gare accompagne le developpement du tourisme rouge dans la region. Mais Ruijin est beaucoup moins frequentee que Jinggangshan, et il y a encore relativement peu de maotouristes qui y viennent.
Tres peu de taxis a la gare, et j'en ai finalement partage un avec deux etudiants sympas que je reverrai peut etre demain. Je suis descendu a la Hongdu Guangchang (Place de la capitale rouge) ou j'ai pris une chambre dans le plus bel hotel de la ville. Pour 13 euros, je pouvais me permettre une telle folie, et j'avoue que le rapport qualite prix est vraiment bluffant. Ailleurs en Chine, il faudrait payer au moins le triple pour un hotel pareil! Ma chambre, immense et propre (si on ne tient pas compte des cafards bien sur) donne sur la grande place, mais je n'ai fait qu'y poser ma valise. Il y a des trucs plus interessants a faire a Ruijin que de rester a l'hotel.
Tout le monde a Shanghai, meme les etrangers qui se foutent completement de l'histoire de la Chine, a entendu parler de Ruijin, qui a donne son nom a deux rues et a un des principaux hopitaux de la ville. Il est donc tres vraisemblable que lorsque je vais dire que j'ai passe mes vacances a Ruijin, de nombreux etrangers s'inquietent de mon etat de sante.
Ruijin fut en fait la capitale de la Republique sovietique de Chine, embryon d'Etat proletarien dirige par les communistes chinois sur un petit territoire autour de Ruijin, de 1931 a 1933. Je suis donc alle a quelques kilometres du centre, sur le site de Yeping, ou se visite le siege de l'ancien gouvernement sovietique de Chine. Les batiments bien que plutot simples avaient une belle architecture, meme si la visite fut relativement decevante. Il y avait bien quelques objets exposes, mais les collections etaient vraiment maigrichonnes. J'ai quand meme bien aime les portraits de Marx et Lenine dans une salle de conference, ainsi que le Ministere du Commerce Exterieur, un titre bien pompeux pour une petite baraque qui ne devait pas gerer grand chose a l'epoque. Dans l'une des maisons, quelques decisions de "justice" contre des proprietaires terriens, des laquais du Japon ou des commercants etaient affichees. Dans une autre piece, j'ai ete tres intigue par d'enormes menottes en metal accrochees a un mur. Il a du y avoir des scenes de torture assez insoutenables dans ce "bureau" gouvernemental. Aucune photo ni explication ecrite malheureusement pour en savoir plus.
A l'exterieur, une petite scene baptisee "palais des etudes leninistes" servait en fait a accueillir les premiers spectacles revolutionnaires de chants et de danses. Soupirs nostalgiques...
A la fin de ma visite, je me suis egare dans les bureaux actuels, ceux du personnel gerant le site, et un employe m'a tenu la jambe pendant une demi heure en me racontant des extraits de la carriere revolutionnaire du camarade Mao Zedong. Je sais bien que ca fait partie du jeu, mais je pense que je n'etais pas encore ideologiquement assez mur pour apprecier tout ca, et j'ai trouve ca plutot ennuyeux (en plus je ne comprenais que la moitie de ce qu'il me disait a cause de son accent).
et vous en France, quel regard portez vous sur Mao? euh... c'est a dire que les francais sont assez peu au courant des details, mais la plupart savent qu'il y a eu de bons et mauvais cotes.
(plus langue de bois que ca, tu pleures!)
Je suis ressorti a l'heure de la fermeture, et il n'y avait evidemment aucun taxi pour me ramener. Fort heureusement, une gentille heroine du peuple s'est proposee de me prendre a bord de son scooter pour me ramener en ville.
Avant hier soir, je suis alle inspecter la vie nocturne des jeunes de Ruijin, ne doutant pas qu'ils se livrent pour la plupart consciencieusement a l'etude du marxisme leninisme. Je suis donc alle voir ce qui se passait dans le bar / boite de nuit en face de l'hotel.
En fait d'activites revolutionnaires, tout ce que j'ai pu voir c'etait des jeunes gens danser frenetiquement sur de la musique decadente (rien a voir avec les ballets maoistes que j'affectionne). Des gogo danseuses excitaient egalement le public en se tremoussant a moitie nues pres du bar. Il est probable que le seul redressement que ce genre de spectacle puisse provoquer n'a pas grand chose a voir avec le redressement de la conscience politique des masses, et j'ai donc ete pris d'un certain sceptisisme sur le bien fonde politique de ce genre de vie nocturne.
J'ai finalement sympathise avec un groupe de fetards avec qui on a descendu quelques bieres, et avec qui nous n'avons pas une seule fois parle du President Mao. Apres avoir ete brule a la joue par une cigarette, nous sommes tous sortis pour aller grignoter quelque chose dans un bouge a la peripherie de la ville, ou nous avons a nouveau descendu quelques bouteilles. Heureusement que ce type de biere est plus proche de l'eau minerale que de la vraie biere, et il n'y avait donc aucun risque de se reveiller avec une gueule de bois, ni d'avoir un accident de moto sur le chemin de retour.
Le President Mao etant un homme qui avait la bougeotte, il a demenage le siege du gouvernement de quelques kilometres (a l'oppose de la ville), toujours en peripherie de Ruijin, sur le site de Shazhouba. J'ai donc eu la surprise de decouvrir hier la bas une quasi replique de ce que j'avais vu la veille, en plus dense et un peu plus imposant. Des batiments gouvernementaux a nouveau, une "Cour Supreme" (il y avait donc un systeme de tribunaux avec plusieurs instances sur ce minuscule territoire communiste?), une Banque Nationale (ancetre de la Banque Populaire de Chine actuelle), etc. Et puis un puits "sacre" ou le President Mao aurait accompli je ne sais quel miracle en faisant surgir l'eau de nulle part.
Sur place, j'ai sympathise avec un petit groupe de gens qui venaient d'un bled a une heure et demie de route de Ruijin. Ils m'ont propose de les rejoindre pour aller passer la nuit dans leur village, et je me suis dit que ce serait dommage de rater une telle occasion, un "retour a la terre" etant incontournable pour qui fait du tourisme rouge. J'ai donc accepte leur sympathique proposition, et nous sommes alles dejeuner ensemble. En fait tout cela tombait tres bien, puisqu'il y avait un autre site rouge non loin de leur village, que j'hesitais justement a aller visiter, ne sachant trop comment y aller.
Sur le chemin du retour, le chauffeur (le petit ami d'une des paysannes venait des regions riches du Guangdong et avait donc les moyens de payer un van avec chauffeur) commenta les divers sites rouges de la region. D'apres lui, la "premiere montagne de la Longue Marche" n'est qu'un attrape touristes, puisque l'Armee Rouge ne serait jamais passe par la. Puis il m'a fait part de la querelle de clochers qui oppose les villes voisines de Ruijin et Yudu pour savoir laquelle des deux etait le veritable point de depart de la Longue Marche. Apparemment l'historiographie chinoise designe Ruijin, mais Yudu veut se tailler une part du gateau du tourisme rouge, et pretend que la grande aventure a en fait commence la bas.
Non loin de Yudu, nous nous sommes arretes dans un temple a flanc de montagne, plutot joli et apparemment pas mal frequente. Le celebre General Yue Fei de la dynastie Song y aurait ecrit un poeme dans la roche, mais je n'ai pas bien compris le contexte. De toute facon le chauffeur ne connaissait pas tres bien son histoire puisqu'il situait la vie de ce heros celebrissime quelques siecles plus tard sous la dynastie... Qing!!! En fait toute la petite equipe etait plutot inculte (a part le type du Guangdong qui a fait des etudes) et au siege du gouvernement sovietique chinois, j'ai meme du leur apprendre que Mao Zemin etait le frere de Mao Zedong. Ils ignoraient meme ca!!!
Enfin bref, on a finalement rejoint Yudu, ou nous avons pris un vehicule pour rejoindre leur village. Nous n'etions alors plus que 4: deux paysannes, le petit ami de l'une d'entre elles, et moi. Leur village s'appelle Duanwu, c'est un tres chouette coin de nature, qui n'a rien de plus que des milliers d'autres villages du meme genre en Chine, mais ou les gens sont en tout cas tres sympas, et ou on peut - enfin! - respirer un air vraiment pur. Leur ferme etait eloignee du centre du village (trois quarts d'heure a pieds), et ce retour a la terre allait donc en etre vraiment un, puisque il n'y avait autour que champs et forets, cochons et vaches, et pas d'eau courante (mais tout de meme l'electricite et une television dernier cri avec lecteur de dvd, faut pas deconner).
Les parents de la fille qui nous hebergeait etaient tres sympas et accueillants, une chance car ceux de l'autre fille etaient parait-il beaucoup plus mechants et n'aimaient pas voir du monde autour de chez eux. La mere comprenait le mandarin mais ne le parlait quasiment pas. Le pere en revanche le parlait un peu, avec quand meme un accent, et je pouvais donc communiquer avec lui. De toute facon leur dialecte n'est pas trop trop eloigne du mandarin, et je pouvais donc capter des bouts de phrase par ci par la quand ils se parlaient entre eux. Il y avait enfin un bebe, d'un membre de la famille qui n'etait pas la ces jours ci.
Nous sommes partis nous balader dans la foret environnante, et avons croise un groupe d'une dizaine de gamins qui ont hurle en me voyant. D'apres une des filles qui m'accompagnait, ils n'avaient jamais vu de blancs de leur vie, et croyaient que j'etais un diable japonais. On les a donc rassures en leur disant que j'etais francais, et ils sont donc venus m'assaillir de questions et me tripoter. Je leur ai fait une peur bleue en sortant mon appareil photo pour les immortaliser, car ils partaient tous se cacher sous les vaches quand je voulais les prendre en photo. Finalement, ils ont accepte de poser, et quelques uns nous ont suivi dans la foret, pour cueillir des especes de baies que je ne connaissais pas (des sortes de figures miniatures).
A la tombee de la nuit, nous sommes rentres a la ferme, pour deguster un copieux diner (c'est en ce moment la periode de la fete de la mi-automne, et les repas doivent donc sortir de l'ordinaire). Les filles ont rigole en pointant du doigt un enorme monstre qui avancait sur un mur. Nom di diou! J'avais jamais vu un truc comme ca, une araignee geante avec des pattes gigantesques. Beurk quelle horreur, je desteste ca! Ma reaction les a fait rigoler (il faut dire que je m'etais un peu foutu de leur gueule quand elles m'ont parle de leur peur des fantomes) et elles ont voulu me rassurer en me disant que le bestiau etait benefique puisqu'il devorait les moustiques. Je crois que pour la premiere fois de ma vie, j'allais esperer qu'il y ait profusion de moustiques la ou j'allais dormir, juste pour etre sur que l'animal aurait suffisamment a manger pour la nuit sans avoir a se finir sur des trucs plus gros comme... moi.
Puis je leur ai parle de mes voyages, ca les passionnait, surtout l'une des filles qui n'etait jamais alle plus loin que Ruijin, et qui revait d'horizons plus lointains. Par chance, j'avais mes cartes memoires sur moi, et ai pu leur montrer mes photos de Mandchourie, d'Europe et d'Iran.
Apres ce petit intermede, nous sommes donc tous sortis pour rejoindre le centre du village, ou avait lieu une petite fete pour preparer la mi-automne (qui tombe en fait aujourd'hui). Apres les trois quarts d'heure de marche reglementaires, nous avons donc rejoint la foule des villageois, c'est a dire surtout des enfants et des personnes agees. Beaucoup de jeunes gens et d'adultes ont en effet quitte le village pour aller la ou il y a du travail, et tous ne sont pas revenus pour les vacances. La foule s'etait divisee en deux groupes, l'un regardant un vieux film qui passait sur un ecran en plein air, l'autre assistant a un spectacle d'opera traditionnel. C'est le deuxieme que nous avons rejoint.
Curieusement, contrairement a ce que j'imaginais, je suis passe relativement inapercu, bien qu'aucun occidental ne passe jamais dans ce coin. Certes j'ai eu droit aux habituels laowai et aux memes series de questions, mais pas vraiment plus qu'ailleurs. L'explication qu'a avancee l'une des filles etait assez stupefiante: les personnes agees n'ont jamais vu de blancs ni en vrai ni a la tele, et ne savaient donc pas ce que c'etait qu'un etranger. Elles devaient donc croire que j'etais juste un chinois avec une tete bizarre.
Le spectacle d'opera etait tres joli, tant visuellement qu'a l'oreille, meme si je ne comprenais evidemment quasiment rien. C'etait la premiere fois que j'en voyais un hors des grandes salles de spectacle des grandes villes, et j'ai vraiment ressenti quelque chose de fort en y assistant au milieu des masses paysannes. Je n'ai meme pas releve le caractere fondamentalement contre-revolutionnaire de ces representations de la societe archaique, et me suis uniquement contente d'en savourer l'esthetique.
Nous sommes alles ensuite jeter un coup d'oeil au film, a cote duquel une bagarre avait commence a eclater. Comme c'etait le frere d'une de mes nouvelles amies qui etait implique, on nous a fait comprendre a moi et au petit ami de l'autre fille qu'il ne valait mieux pas que nous restions. L'explication etait toute simple: la fille ne voulait pas perdre la face en nous faisant assister a ce genre de scene. Elle m'a d'ailleurs confirme sur le chemin de retour que ca avait ete une tres bonne chose pour sa face de venir accompagnee d'un occidental, et c'est sans doute la raison principale pour laquelle ils m'avaient tous invite. Je m'en doutais bien, meme si ca ne change absolument rien a la formidable impression que m'a laisse leur accueil si chaleureux.
Je ne voulais pas trop me "doucher", car la "piece d'eau" puait les latrines, et faute d'eau courante, il fallait donc manier d'enormes seaux d'eau pour s'arroser le corps. Ceci dit, ca allait etre ideologiquement tres positif, puisque j'allais renoncer a mon confort bourgeois pour "rejoindre le peuple et apprendre a son contact".
Je me suis couche a minuit passe et ai rapidement sombre dans un sommeil tres profond et reparateur. Le lendemain matin, apres le petit dejeuner (qui ressemblait etrangement au diner de la veille), nous nous sommes a nouveau balade dans les champs et les chemins environnants. C'etait decidemment un tres chouette coin ce petit village, et je comprenais bien que les paysans y soient si attaches.
Le dejeuner d'aujourd'hui fut encore plus copieux que le diner de la veille, il y en avait clairement pour une semaine de bouffe, c'etait de la folie! Un poulet et un cochon avaient ete tues pour l'occasion, et tout venait en fait de chez eux, sauf la biere bien sur, mais y compris un tres bon alcool de riz maison qu'ils m'ont fait gouter.
L'apres midi nous sommes retournes au centre du village pour aller nous balader au bord de la riviere, puis, apres avoir fait mes adieux a tout le monde, j'ai pris le bus pour Yudu, en compagnie de la fille qui voulait vraiment etre vue le plus possible avec moi. A Yudu, nous sommes donc alles voire le fameux site denomme "premier franchissement de la Longue Marche", ou ont ete edifies une colonne et un musee au bord de la riviere. La premiere traversee d'une longue serie, que les gens de Yudu veulent donc voir comme le vrai depart de la Longue Marche, lorsque Mao et les communistes ont quitte Ruijin sous la pression de leurs ennemis. Dans le musee, j'ai vu la photo de deux routards anglais qui commencaient la leur periple a pieds tout le long de l'itineraire des troupes de Mao jusqu'au Shaanxi, la fameuse Longue Marche. Un superbe voyage qu'ils ont du faire ces gaillards il y a quatre ans. Et dire que j'ai pris un van pour faire le trajet de Ruijin a Yudu, et que je n'ai meme pas traverse la riviere a la nage ni en esquif de fortune!
Nous sommes alles a la gare routiere ou mon amie a pu attraper le dernier bus pour son village, tandis que j'en ai miraculeusement trouve un autre pour Ruijin, ou me revoici ce soir. Il y a un monde fou sur la grand' place, en cette soiree de fete de la mi-automne, et demain ca risque d'etre une belle galere pour rejoindre Nanchang, derniere etape de mon petit voyage. Plus de place a bord des bus directs, et pas de trains a un horaire possible, il va donc falloir jouer avec les correspondances et prier pour qu'il y ait de la place a bord si jamais je veux attrapper mon avion demain soir.
Après mon passage au cybercafé hier soir, je suis retourné dans le bar de l'avant-veille, au cas où l'ambiance serait devenue plus révolutionnaire entre temps. On ne sait jamais! Finalement ça n'a pas été le cas, et rien n'avait changé. Je suis donc allé boire ma bière dans un coin, avant de me faire inviter à une table de... 12 filles (je crois que c'est mon record). Comme le veut apparemment l'usage à Ruijin, nous sommes tous sortis manger quelque chose après minuit, avant d'aller nous coucher.
On a atterri dans un petit restaurant où on s'est attablé à l'extérieur et nous avons commencé à commander. Tout d'un coup, des bouts de verre nous ont atteint ma voisine et moi au visage. Quelqu'un avait violemment jeté une bouteille de bière vide sur nous. Pas de bobos heureusement, mais une énorme engueulade entre notre table et celle d'à côté. Je ne comprenais rien à ce qui se hurlait, mais ils ont tous failli en venir aux mains (les garçons contre les filles!). Je suppose qu'il s'agissait d'une lutte de lignes politiques, comme Ruijin en avait connues du temps de Mao. Il avait alors été accusé par les représentants du Kommintern de "localisme paysan" et pire, de "fractionnisme". La même scène se rejouait peut-être devant mes yeux hier soir, qui sait? Ou bien alors était-ce juste un ivrogne qui avait pété un plomb, ce qui avait provoqué l'ire de tout le monde, comme on me l'a dit.
Hier soir, j'ai donc dû vider un nombre conséquent de verres de bière, en sachant que c'était une belle connerie, puisque la nuit allait être très courte pour moi, et il s'agissait de ne pas avoir de gueule de bois le lendemain, en raison de la longue journée de transport qui m'attendait. Mais j'ai sacrifié mon confort à mes devoirs internationalistes, et ai donc satisfait la demande de toutes ces demoiselles de trinquer avec elles.
La nuit fut effectivement très courte, et j'ai eu un mal fou à me lever ce matin à 6 heures, en n'ayant heureusement qu'une toute petite gueule de bois. A la gare routière, impossible d'acheter un billet pour Nanchang, comme on me l'avait prédit. J'ai heureusement pu embarquer dans un bus matinal pour Ganzhou, une grande ville sur le chemin, où j'espérais trouver une correspondance pour Nanchang.
Ce ne fut hélas pas le cas, et tout le personnel de la gare routière de Ganzhou m'a confirmé qu'il ne me serait pas possible de prendre un bus pour Nanchang ou une ville à mi-chemin dans les temps. Galère galère donc, d'autant plus qu'il était encore plus illusoire d'espérer trouver une place à bord d'un train. Je devais impérativement attraper mon avion pour Shanghai ce soir, pour être au bureau demain matin et régler une urgence. Galère galère galère donc. Une fille en pleurs à côté de moi était dans la même situation, et se faisait copieusement engueuler par le personnel en raison de son imprévoyance. L'étranger que j'étais n'a en revanche reçu que de la compassion et quelques conseils gentils mais fort peu utiles. Il n'y avait personne pour partager un taxi avec moi, et le prix de la course à 1000 yuans (100 euros) me faisait quand même hésiter à embarquer seul, même si c'était apparemment la seule solution.
Finalement la solution s'est imposée d'elle même, après mille conciliabules du personnel: il suffisait de monter à bord d'un bus et de s'asseoir sur le siège vide à côté du chauffeur. Suffisait d'y penser! Comme quoi, rien n'est jamais impossible en Chine.
Comme le chauffeur ne voulait pas que ce soit un étranger qui soit sur ce siège à cause du risque, il a demandé à ce que j'échange ma place avec un chinois (moins grave, en cas d'accident, qu'il a dit). J'ai vraiment eu honte mais n'ai eu d'autre choix que d'accepter. Cela m'a en revanche permis de faire le trajet à côté d'une fille qui parlait un peu français, quelque chose de rarissime dans la région, tout en écoutant et regardant les clips maoistes qui passaient sur l'écran.
Nous sommes finalement arrivés à Nanchang vers 16.30, donc largement dans les temps. J'avais même trois quarts d'heure pour visiter la ville. Nanchang est une ville qui compte sur la liste des lieux où on pratique le tourisme rouge. Le 1er août 1927, une armée communiste est entrée en insurrection avant de se faire déloger par les troupes réactionnaires. Il y a plusieurs monuments en ville pour commémorer cet événement. Vous remarquerez qu'en finissant mes visites par Nanchang, je n'ai pas respecté l'ordre chronologique des événements, puisque cela avait eu lieu avant le séjour à Jinggangshan, l'établissement d'une république soviétique à Ruijin, et enfin le début de la Longue Marche.
D'un autre côté, je ne faisais que mettre en pratique un des piliers de la théorie militaire de Mao Zedong, consistant à occuper d'abord les campagnes pour encercler les villes. C'est exactement ce que j'ai fait: j'ai visité les petites villes et la campagne, avant de visiter la capitale provinciale. Puisque certains appliquent aujourd'hui le maoisme au marketing économique, pourquoi ne pas en faire autant avec le tourisme?
A Nanchang, je n'ai donc eu le temps que de voir la Place du Peuple, et sa gigantesque colonne commémorant l'insurrection de 1927. Je me suis fait interpeler au pied de la colonne par un groupe de 8 jeunes filles (mon score est en baisse), et, une fois encore, j'ai sacrifié mon petit confort (je voulais manger un morceau car je crevais de faim) pour respecter mes devoirs internationalistes et promouvoir l'amitié entre les peuples. J'ai donc consenti à m'asseoir avec elles, à poser en photo et à discuter un moment.
Je suis finalement arrivé juste à temps à l'aéroport, et me voici de retour à Shanghai, le coeur un peu serré d'avoir quitté une partie de la Chine infiniment plus sympathique que Shanghai, et qui jouit malheureusement d'une réputation exécrable. Je sens que je vais devoir passer pas mal de temps à expliquer aux shanghaiens pourquoi les gens de là-bas, non seulement méritent d'être respectés, mais en plus ont bien plus de qualités humaines qu'eux.
Super recit, tres drole du debut jusqu'a la fin. Mais aussi tres interessant, c'etait une partie de la Chine qui ne m'interessait pas trop, tant sur le plan geographique qu'historique, mais tu m'as fait changer d'avis. Merci!
Avant la géographie et l'histoire, c'est surtout la gentillesse, la générosité et la simplicité (dans le bon sens du terme) de la population du Jiangxi qui m'a séduit. Comme d'habitude, j'ai pris le retour à Shanghai comme une claque, mais je crois que j'ai eu dans le Jiangxi le meilleur accueil de tous mes voyages en Chine.
J'ai hésité un peu avant de le mettre, mais voici un lien vers le site de l'émission où j'apparais. Ils disent que je n'ai pas chanté dans un chinois très standard (les tons c'est déjà dur, mais la chanson, j'y arrive vraiment pas), mais ils ont eu la politesse de ne pas dire que j'avais massacré la chanson.🙂
Grosse déception, car la télé m'a appelé aujourd'hui pour me dire qu'il faut que je passe toute la semaine à Nanchang pour les répétitions si je veux passer à l'émission de dimanche. Or, ce n'est pas possible à cause de mes contraintes de travail.
arf arf, je suis maintenant sur la page principale de l'émission (le lien plus haut n'était qu'une sous-page) où ils disent que je suis finaliste. Eh eh, ils auraient au moins pu choisir de mettre en ligne un finaliste qui sera présent à la finale. 🙂
Excellent carnet, vraiment, que vas-tu nous faire découvrir la prochaine fois ?
Patrick en sélectionné pour les JO de Pékin ? Patrick en star de ciné ?
Je t'ai reconnu, tu es Forrest Gump.
Grâce à mon changement de travail, je me suis vu contraint et forcé en juillet 2006 de liquider mes jours de vacances et ai donc dû affronter la douloureuse…
Sept ans c'est bien peu de chose, c'est juste un septennat, ce n'est même pas un dixième de l'espérance de vie moyenne d'un mâle français. Et pourtant c'est…
Preamble:
Africa was calling to me, so a year ago, with our usual travel companions, we decided to return to the continent we love so much.
Where to go?
Uganda quickly caught our attention—wildlife we’re used to seeing, plus gorillas and the shoebill we missed in Zambia.
We got in touch with Paul, who’s been mentioned several times on the forum back in September, booked our flight tickets, secured the gorilla permits, and by early October, the most important things were done.
We still had plenty of time to hold our "prep meetings" for the final itinerary.
Three days before departure, I sprained my ankle (my weak spot, as you’ll recall from our Colombia trip).
I wasn’t in great spirits, but after a year of waiting, nothing was going to stop me.
We’d see how it goes!
Off we went for our new adventures
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)
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!!!
It was winter, a winter with beautiful weather,
A season that only exists in the southwest of America,
I remember very well what I told you that morning
A month ago... A century ago, an eternity ago...
We’ll go... wherever you want, whenever you want...
Well, yeah, back from our adventure in our enchanting American West just a month ago, we’re already taking a bite out of one of its lesser-known competitors. "Flo, if you had to pick just one reason to justify your love for the U.S., what would it be?" The greasy, dripping burgers? No, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by saying it’d be the wide-open spaces... And that’s exactly what our new quest is taking us to—a land on the other side of the globe where the horizon also seems endless, where silence tastes like salty wind and sand, where freedom is measured in kilometers of desert tracks, where the GPS is mostly there to confirm you’re lost in the middle of nowhere... Add to that magic formula the fact that you’ll see more zebras, giraffes, wildebeest, and elephants than people per square kilometer, and you can imagine us setting foot in Southern Africa for the first time, more precisely at the small airport in Windhoek, capital of... of...? Brush up on your geography, damn it! We’re landing in Namibia!!!
To be honest, Namibian landscapes have been flirting with me for ages. So how did I resist this island of temptation for so long? First, the budget. Let’s just say that for the same amount of effort (and kidneys), the bank lets you choose two other adventures almost anywhere else on the planet. Then there were my girls. Yeah, back then, they were too little to dose up on Malarone, the only malaria remedy at the time... Long story short, ten years later, all the planets have aligned. First, I won the Euromillions! Well, almost... Let’s just say my girls are now old enough... not to take Malarone, but to stop following me on all my adventures! Jackpot! "Flo, how about a little two-person caprice, just the two of us, tackling the Namibian tracks?"
As we landed on the runway, first wow effect: The horizon is immense. It’s flat as can be, incredibly flat... So much flat space! Did I mention it was flat?... Looking into the distance, it feels like your gaze could circle the Earth without hitting a single obstacle—until you end up staring at your own backside. "Oh, what a nice view!" Well, it’s the first time I’ve seen my butt from this angle! Touching moment... Sorry, I’m rambling—must be the exhaustion from the three-flight marathon we just powered through via Ethiopia and South Africa... And yet, no time to philosophize about my anatomy. As usual, we want to rack up our first kilometers to be front and center at dawn tomorrow. After wrapping up the tedious Namibian immigration formalities and meeting the 4x4 that’ll be our companion day and night for the next fifteen days, we’re off! We’re not exactly fresh, but we’re ready to tackle the next five hundred kilometers in night mode, cruise control set due south! Just outside Windhoek, the local wildlife—a jackal—welcomes us with a smile: "Welcome to Namibia!" That’s what it said! Honest... Okay, first endless straight road, first flaming sunset, first corrugated dirt track, first Milky Way with zero light pollution... You get it—it’s definitely the day of firsts... First night camping, too, in the big trunk of our Toyota Fortuner parked by the side of the track... The real adventure, the kind that smells under the arms, can finally begin...
I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).
So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!
We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice.
For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.
We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.
Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).
Day 1 – Paris to Lima
Foreword
I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.
Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).
Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.
As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.
Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.
Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
Okay, Palermo—we know it. We go there to marvel at the architectural wonders born from the Arab-Norman-Byzantine-Gothic mix. And rightly so. We also go to treat our taste buds to all kinds of delights, both savory and sweet. Again, rightly so. We go to succumb to the charms of Palermo’s women, their sun-kissed skin glowing with golden highlights. Still, rightly so. And all while fantasizing about a mafia we’ll never actually see. Anyway.
But you’ll also find street art everywhere, even in the historic center. Sometimes, you just need to step a few meters away from the main tourist highways like Cassaro, Via Maqueda, or the main arteries of the Ballarò, Capo, or Vucciria markets to stumble upon some amazing murals. Duck into one or two slightly grimy alleys, weaving past trash and crumbling walls, and you’ll find real gems.
For example, just 50 meters south of the main artery of the Mercato del Capo, there’s a great spot with dozens of murals in a tiny neighborhood of run-down mini-houses. You’ll find plenty more south of the Mercato di Ballarò, in the Albergheria (the grittier side, not the one near Cassaro). There’s some in Ballarò itself too, but it’s hard to spot when the market’s in full swing with stalls everywhere. La Kalsa isn’t left out either, nor is Vucciria—just step away from the restaurant-packed streets.
Here are a few examples that really caught my eye.
(In the heart of Albergheria, on a street every visitor walks down—lovely message from an unidentified artist)
We landed in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, and headed straight to Kasane in Botswana to pick up our car.
Our vehicle is a 4x4 because in Zambia, it's practically impossible to use anything else, especially in the national parks. I’ve already had the pleasure of visiting South Luangwa National Park—it’s one of the reasons for this trip, the main one being to travel in Africa with one of my sons.
First stop: Livingstone on the banks of the Zambezi River. Along the way, we discovered a lovely restaurant at Socrates with a super-friendly owner (we’ll actually stop there again on our way back). We spent our first night in the rooftop tent after a stunning sunset, accompanied by the grunting of hippos in the river.
The next day, we set off early, heading to Kafue NP. In fact, we’ll always leave early—waking up between 5:00 and 5:30 AM and hitting the road an hour later. Kafue is a lesser-known park, mostly forested, and the animals are skittish because they’re not used to human presence. We crossed the park from south to north and came across various antelopes. Near Lake Itezhi-Tezhi, there are plains where wildlife is easier to spot.
After Kafue, we headed to South Luangwa. This journey requires stops in Mumbwa and Petauke. Two pleasant stops where we found lodges (a nice change from the rooftop tent) at affordable prices and met welcoming people.
For me, South Luangwa is Zambia’s most beautiful park—the river is stunning, the landscapes are gorgeous, and there’s a wide variety of wildlife, including, of course, big cats. A tip for those, like us, who aren’t with a guide: if you’re staying near the park for several days, don’t hesitate to do a "game drive" to scout out where the animals are so you can return the next day with your own vehicle. Of course, in the dry season, you’ll want to focus on waterholes to see the animals—and you’ll need a bit of luck too. The elephant population is growing, and we were lucky enough to see around sixty elephants crossing the Luangwa at dawn, spread across several groups. South Luangwa is the westernmost point of our trip, and we’re now heading east to Lower Zambezi.
Lower Zambezi is Zambia’s side of Mana Pools on the Zimbabwe side. We took a boat ride on the Zambezi to see elephants, hippos, crocodiles, and a multitude of birds living along the water and on the river’s islands. The sunset there is also magnificent.
To explore the park, we followed the waterways parallel to the Zambezi, mostly on the western side (see our route). Lower Zambezi is the last park we visit, and the final leg of our trip will be Victoria Falls.
Victoria Falls—or Mosi-Oa-Tunya ("The Smoke That Thunders")—are truly impressive, even during the dry season. We saw the falls from both countries: in Zambia for the overall view and the bridge that serves as the border, and in Zimbabwe to get as close as possible to the most spectacular parts of the falls.
This marks the end of our trip, which, despite a blown tire on the road, went off without any major issues. Zambia is a beautiful country that immerses you in wild, still-preserved nature.
I’d been wanting to discover Sulawesi for years. But then life happened—COVID, the cost of flight tickets, you name it. Long story short, years went by, but we finally set off as a family for a three-week trip in southern Sulawesi: Rammang Rammang, Rantepao, Sengkang, Bira, and Selayar.
I like to spend a good amount of time in the places I visit, giving myself the chance to really get to know the area and meet locals. So no island-hopping this time—just the south. But when I say "just," it’s not restrictive at all, given how rich this island is in landscapes, little encounters, and magical moments.
Wednesday 07/08 - Thursday 07/09:
We left Montpellier for what was supposed to be five flights, though we only took four to start, landing in Jakarta.
We picked up our luggage there to catch a flight to Makassar the next day. That’s the only way we could get an affordable ticket (702 €).
I won’t bore you with the flight details—there’s not much to say. We arrived at 7 PM and considered heading straight to Makassar that evening. But we opted for a recovery night before taking off again. Good thing we did, because my son’s suitcase was missing...
First contact with the locals was a bit stressful—a trip without your luggage isn’t exactly fun. But right away, a woman reassured us: the suitcase was just enjoying some extra time in Singapore. Maybe it was doing some last-minute shopping. Anyway, nothing serious—it was supposed to arrive at 9 AM the next day. That gave us some breathing room since our flight wasn’t until noon.
So off we went to our hotel (Days Hotel & Suites) near the airport. It was cheap (40 € for three rooms—my kids are older and need their space), but it wasn’t worth much more. The place had definitely seen better days. But no big deal—we were only there for the night, and... we got to watch France beat Morocco in the World Cup live at 3 AM. That’s what really mattered!
Friday 07/10: In search of the lost suitcase
First challenge of the morning: finding our missing suitcase. They sent us to the airport basement, to the staff entrance. We were greeted with smiles, and an airport employee led me through the underground corridors back to the baggage claim. Right on time at 9 AM, the suitcase arrived, just like they’d promised. We were finally complete!
Off we went to change terminals, grab a well-deserved meal, and board our fifth flight to Makassar.
Little side note: I struggled for a while trying to book domestic flights directly on the airlines’ websites with no luck. Without meaning to advertise (though I guess I am a little), I realized it’d be easier to use sites like tiket.com or Traveloka. That turned out to be a great choice—I even ended up booking hotels through them later in the trip.
12:40 PM: We were on our way to Makassar. First good news: we were the only tourists. Well, the only European tourists on the flight, anyway.
No, you’re not dreaming—the bag is full of... potato chip packets.
To each their own souvenirs, I guess...
When we arrived in Makassar, a driver was waiting to take us straight to Rammang Rammang: 250,000 IDR (12 €) to our guesthouse (Rammang Rammang House). Forget about meeting people on the bus—we were headed straight to the first stop of our trip, and it was already stunning.
My kids’ guesthouse:
Ours:
View of the little lake:
But not everything is straightforward around here.
I wanted to get a local SIM card for internet and calls. I found them expensive at Jakarta’s airport (20 € for 20 GB), so I decided to wait. Well, no luck in Rammang Rammang either. You can’t just buy one from the local shop—you need a Telkomsat store (they have the best coverage). So we’d have to wait for Rantepao to get Wi-Fi... When I say "local shop," I mean the little shack around the corner. No big deal—we’d find one easily in Rantepao for 5 € and 25 GB. So there we were, offline, just the four of us enjoying the amazing view.
Saturday 07/11: Rammang Rammang
We woke up early to the sound of wedding music blasting through the village (everyone’s invited!). Off we went to explore the area.
A little walking, a little boat ride (shared with a French tourist and a Polish one—yes, there *are* tourists here, just not many; 750,000 IDR for up to 8 people) through a lovely canal, and we discovered the karst site. It was peaceful and beautiful.
The river:
The karst site:
When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”
This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...
Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.
Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!
La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.
Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.
Some practical info:
- The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side.
- We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €.
- The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen.
- Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day.
- Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.
Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions...
So, now that I've just finished my Japan travel journal here, I figured it was high time to honor this destination we came back from so enchanted.
Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some!
Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!
I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to include fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to take her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can slip away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!
Anyway, since I love maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red); we only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband’s newly retired, I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.
In broad strokes, it was very classic:
First, we “settled in” at Luang Prabang (8 days), because we wanted and needed to.
From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we know, distances aren’t just about km!
Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4,000 Islands while stopping by the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites.
We wrapped up with the Bolaven Plateau.
A few practical notes: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having picked up our luggage in Bangkok to check it in for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized.
We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. Quick, but to be fair, we were on a “small” plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too crowded in line!
At the end of our trip, we didn’t fly out of Paksé but from the nearby airport in Thailand, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), then Bangkok and Paris.
You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the (Chinese) train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!
With that intro out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter.
To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang
From Southern Shikoku, between land and sea, to the blue waters of Miyakojima and finally Tokyo’s megacity
Hi everyone,
I have to admit, I really hesitated before deciding to write this travel journal... Writing one takes a lot of time and energy, and since this is my 4th trip, I wondered if it would actually interest anyone other than myself (both for the discovery and the writing). But after a few "Are you going to write a journal?" requests and especially the renewed pleasure from reading other travelers’ travel journals about Japan or elsewhere on this forum or elsewhere, I’ve decided to share this 4th installment in the Land of the Rising Sun here.
The itinerary:
27 full days, from late May to late June 2025, right in the middle of the rainy season, including:
-->13 days in Shikoku, from Kochi (Kochi Prefecture) to Matsuyama (Ehime Prefecture)
-->7 days in Miyakojima (Okinawa Prefecture)
-->7 days in Tokyo
The trip was decided on fairly last-minute this year, as usual.
I regularly check flight prices to track fluctuations for this destination, even without concrete plans. Finding a slightly cheaper direct flight (900 €) than what I’d seen in previous months (around 1,200–1,400 € on average) for a Paris-Tokyo route with Japanese airline ANA was too tempting to resist the urge to return to this enchanting country. After long hesitations between exploring the San’in region (Matsue, Tottori, Yamaguchi) and southern Shikoku, the decision was made—I took the plunge! The tickets are booked: Paris to Kochi with a layover in Tokyo, all with ANA, the airline I’d been dreaming of... for 1,120 € per person. Okay, it’s not cheap, but it’s still better than in 2023.
We leave in 2 weeks!! Now it’s just a matter of getting everything ready!
Intense work ahead in these 2 weeks to:
finalize a more precise itinerary and reach an agreement—yep, because even though we both love Japan, our preferences differ slightly, and we have to choose between exploring new places or taking time to revisit beloved spots...
decide how much time to spend in each selected area without rushing while still exploring
research places that might interest us and watch videos about Japan
book accommodations: yes, it’s possible to do this on the spot as we go, but last year, we noticed that last-minute options were pretty expensive, so we’re booking ahead—even if it means keeping a few options open while we decide or see if better deals pop up later
reserve rental cars
order yen
check the weather regularly and wonder if choosing the *tsuyu* (rainy season) was really a good idea—and whether we’ll be stuck in non-stop rain???
What a tough job, right? Traveling to Japan for a month—such a hard life!
Despite this being my 4th trip, the excitement is just as intense as the first time.
The only small downside is that when we booked the flight tickets, there were only a few seats left, so we’re only sitting together on the international return flight. Plus, on the outbound flight, we’ve got the middle seats.
Another lingering question: what French-language films will be available? According to the internet, the selection seems limited.
Oh well, these are just minor details—it’s almost time to fly!
PS: I’ll be posting slowly and irregularly... so for those interested, be patient or maybe set an alert...
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
Before Our Departure
Preparing for this trip started 9 months before our departure in June. For those planning a similar itinerary, it’s important to book accommodations well in advance, especially in the Okavango and Savuti campsites—otherwise, you might not find any availability.
Introduction
After visiting Zambia three years ago and Namibia and western Botswana a year and a half ago, this year we chose Zimbabwe (Hwange NP) and the northern half of Botswana.
Our flight from Paris was to Victoria Falls with Ethiopian Airlines, with a layover in Addis Ababa. We rented a 4x4 from Bushlore in Kasane, complete with two rooftop tents since there are four of us on this adventure. Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4 and, most importantly, gave us a rundown of the vehicle and its equipment. Pay close attention to what they tell you—it could be crucial if something goes wrong, as it did for us during the trip.
Our Itinerary
We arrived on June 12th at noon. At Victoria Falls Airport, we got our double-entry visa right away—I’d already pre-booked it online on the site https://www.evisa.gov.zw/.
Since our vehicle was in Botswana, we had to cross the border from Victoria Falls into Botswana for the first time.
The next morning, Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4. After completing the formalities, we headed toward Zimbabwe and the town of Victoria Falls.
We woke up early the next morning to be at Victoria Falls at sunrise. The scenery was stunning, but since it was the start of the dry season, the Zambezi was still high, so the falls had a strong flow. This made it hard to fully appreciate their beauty.
In the early afternoon, we left for Hwange NP, where we stayed for 4 days. Two days at Gwango campsite near Dete, followed by two days at Robins Camp. We expected to see more animals at Robins, but that wasn’t the case. In Hwange, we didn’t spot any predators, but we did see plenty of mammals (buffalo, elephants, giraffes, zebras, and antelopes).
After a few days in Zimbabwe, we crossed back into Botswana at Pandamatenga. We stopped at Nata Lodge for a good night’s rest—driving on the dirt roads is exhausting.
We left Nata and headed toward Nxai Pan. The road was sandy but manageable. We made a small detour to admire some beautiful baobabs at "Baines Baobabs." Then we continued to our campsite, Nxai Pan South Camp. Keep in mind that many campsites in Botswana aren’t fenced (except for the shower/toilet areas), so animals can roam freely within the camp. Take precautions, especially after dark.
After our stop in Nxai Pan, we headed to Maun. We decided to break our journey in Maun before heading to Moremi and the Okavango Delta for three reasons: first, we needed to stock up on supplies and fuel for the next 5 days; second, our fridge had broken (luckily, Bushlore has a branch in Maun); and third, the drive from Nxai to our camp in Xakanaxa in the delta would’ve taken too long. I always avoid driving after dark.
We arrived at our Xakanaxa camp on June 21st in the early afternoon. Not wanting to waste time, we booked a boat ride on the Okavango Delta, leaving at 4:00 PM for a 2-hour sunset cruise. For those interested, to the right of the Xakanaxa X1 site, there’s a sign for boat rides. The organizer is very professional and offers prices that are nothing like those of the lodges.
It was a beautiful ride through the delta with a stunning sunset. Being on a boat is much more relaxing than driving on the dirt roads. That didn’t stop us from doing self-drive safaris the next morning and late afternoon, though.
Then came the time to leave the delta and head toward Savuti, a much drier region. And that’s when the toughest part of our trip began. First, we decided to go up via Khwai. The rainy season was over, but the area was still marshy. We had to cross a few small water patches, testing the depth to make sure we could get through. Luckily, a sign on the road pointed us toward a drier route. We reached Khwai without any issues, but then we made a major mistake. Instead of taking the main track toward Mababe Gate to reach Savuti Camp, we took a straight path north and then a right turn to get to our camp. Bad call—we got stuck in the sand, with one rear wheel buried halfway and a front wheel off the ground. We were genuinely scared we wouldn’t get out, especially since we were on a deserted track, 20 kilometers from our destination, with night falling in two hours. This is where paying attention to the vehicle instructions really paid off—we had to use the jack to get out of the mess. The result: we arrived at Savuti campsite just before dark (Distance: 146.3 km, Duration: 9 hours, 56 minutes, and 3 seconds, Average speed: 14.7 km/h, tracked with Osmand). At reception, the staff couldn’t understand how we’d gotten there—we hadn’t passed through any of Savuti’s reserve entry gates.
The next morning, no one felt like driving, so we did a game drive with a guide. I don’t know if it was some kind of reward, but the outing was amazing. We saw three lions and, best of all, a pack of African wild dogs that we had time to admire and photograph. The next day, we did a short self-drive and found one of the lions from the day before drinking at a waterhole. That was the end of our Savuti adventure.
Now we’re heading to Kasane. We returned our vehicle and settled in for our last two nights there. The next morning, since we no longer had a car, we decided to do one last early-morning game drive in Chobe NP. It turned out great—we followed two brother lions and saw plenty of other mammals. The only downside of Chobe is the number of tourists, which was a change from the other parks we’d visited. That said, we’re tourists too, so...
In the evening, we took one last boat ride on the Chobe River to end on a high note with a beautiful sunset.
After a good night’s sleep and plenty of wonderful memories, landscapes, animals, and emotions, it was time to leave. We left early in the morning with the same taxi company as before to cross the border into Zimbabwe one last time and head to the airport, where we took off to return to France.
We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?
This travel journal aims to help future travelers (well, I hope so!), since there’s so little information available about this remote archipelago. Big thanks to Lolodesiles and Ayis for answering my questions while I planned this trip!
Context
This is our fourth trip to Indonesia as a couple—after Java-Bali in 2011, Flores-Komodo in 2013, and Sulawesi in 2016—each time for three weeks. It’s also our tenth trip to Southeast Asia overall.
We’re traveling like we have in previous years: with a rough itinerary that often changes based on who we meet, tips from other travelers, how tired we are, or what we’re feeling in the moment. In the Moluccas, it’ll change constantly, mostly depending on transportation.
Our only accommodation booking: the first few nights in Ambon when we arrive.
Planned route (to be refined on the spot): Ambon - Banda Islands - Lease Islands - Ternate - Tidore - Halmahera (between Sofifi and Tobelo) - Morotai and the neighboring unnamed archipelago.
Flights: Lyon-Paris-Singapore on Air France (428 € round-trip), with good meals, champagne, and wine (we like our little comforts when going on vacation 😏). Then Singapore-Jakarta-Ambon on Air Asia and Garuda.
Return flight: Ternate-Jakarta-Singapore on Lion Air, with a 3-day stopover in Singapore before heading home.
Episode 1: Ambon to Banda
Our guesthouse, booked two days before departure, is 45 minutes from Ambon Airport, near Natsepa Beach (northeast of Leihitu). It’s a pretty average beach—quiet on weekdays but packed on Sundays (we saw the difference). It’s lined with warungs.
This rainy day helps us readjust to the atmosphere of this country we love so much.
Our “Solim Guesthouse” is a lovely house with a living/dining room and garden, costing 15 € per night for two, including a hearty breakfast.
Dinner is at Gaba Gaba, a great restaurant just a short walk away, right by the water, recommended by our host. Fun fact: it’s in the Lonely Planet, and it might be the only LP-listed spot in the Moluccas that actually matches the description (the others either don’t exist or have nothing to do with what’s advertised 😠).
For the next two days, the super-friendly owner lends us his scooter. We set off to explore the coastal villages in northern Leihitu (the western part of Ambon Island, which has a weird shape).
Laundry and trucks washed in the same stream.
Liang Beach, described as the island’s most beautiful, is almost gone (climate change or something else?), but the colors are magical.
We continue 25 km toward a snorkeling spot our host recommended, taking a gorgeous, deserted little road through tiny villages in clove plantations (oh, those unforgettable scents!), stunning coves, and dense forest.
We’re greeted dozens of times with “Hello Mister”—a daily routine in the Moluccas. Every time we stop, we pose for photos to be saved on locals’ smartphones. They don’t see tourists often.
We ask for directions to the snorkeling spot (not easy—we only know basic Indonesian like *Selamat pagi*, *siang*, *sore*, and other polite phrases). Not many people know where it is (especially since we never know which village we’re in), but we eventually reach a small village that seems to be the right place. 🙂
We ask a local to take us there by boat (it’s not reachable by land).
The spot is at most 100 meters long, but the coral is in good condition (apparently not dynamited by fishermen, unlike in other parts of this beautiful country where fishing methods are destructive and nature pays the price 😠). The fish are plentiful and diverse. It’s a great start before heading to Banda. We’re happy to have the place to ourselves… though we don’t yet realize we won’t see a single tourist for the rest of the trip!
After two days of rest, we head to Tulehu Port in the morning, aiming for the Banda Islands. We know the journey is often tricky: the Pelni ferry runs twice a month but doesn’t match our dates, the 10-seat Suzi Air plane is always full (you can’t book—you have to show up on Mondays and Fridays), and it’s often canceled due to weather. So we opt for the Tuesday speedboat (which also gets canceled if there are waves or wind), with the next one on Saturday.
We’re used to Indonesian ports—crowded, rusty boats, no English speakers—but we still feel lost. When I ask about the speedboat to Bandaneira, people gesture wildly, someone takes me to the “harbor office,” then tells me there’s no boat, others try to sell me tickets, and some just say, “No boat.”
Luckily, an English-speaking local approaches us and confirms the speedboat is broken. The next one will be Saturday *if* it’s fixed—otherwise, even later. 🤪 😠
We’re crushed. We came here for the Banda Islands… 🙁
We decide waiting five days for a maybe-boat isn’t an option, so we decide to head straight to North Moluccas, which was planned for later. We’re so disappointed we don’t even want to stay in the area. The Lease Islands don’t appeal to us despite what we’ve read, and Seram would deserve its own trip with its remote mountain tribes.
Huge disappointment—we’d been dreaming of Banda for months, with its incredible drop-offs like Bunaken, its islands covered in nutmeg trees, etc. I’d read that Banda is in the world’s top 5, alongside Bunaken (amazing—we went in 2016), Komodo (incredible—we went in 2013), Sipadan, and another spot I’ve forgotten.
We take a taxi back to Ambon (45 minutes) to a travel agency to buy plane tickets to Ternate. There’s a daily ATR72 flight at noon—perfect timing.
Ambon is the capital of South Moluccas (or Central, depending on who you ask!) with 300,000 people. The city doesn’t seem unpleasant, but we don’t stop.
On the plane, there are only about ten passengers for 72 seats. The flight attendants are stunning, as always with Wings Air—clearly, they’re hired for their looks. 😊
Stopover in Bacan—a runway in the middle of coconut trees serving a tiny town—then we fly over countless volcanoes, the last one towering over Ternate.
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.
Bonjour,
De retour sur le forum - et première rédaction d'un espèce de carnet de retour de notre 4ème voyage en Indo.
Contexte : une trentaine de jours, en scooter et en duo, sur Florès (et une petite incursion dans l'archipel de Solor, plus précisément à Lembata (chut, faut pas trop en parler !!!), qui donne envie d'en faire beaucoup plus là bas malgré les infrastructures sporadiques), en partie dans des destinations déjà bien connues du forum (la classique Ruteng / Bajawa / Riung / Moni voir baie de Maumere) ... et qui ne parlera pas du PN de Komodo ou de Wae Rebo, puisque nous n'y sommes pas allés 🏴☠️.
Texte en anglais (issu d'une autre plateforme). Sans nul doute, des traducteurs intelligents ou pas marcheront à merveille en cas d'anglophobie 🤪.
Disponible à toute fin utile pour des détails ou infos.
Equippement : Yam' Nmax 155 ; 2x saccoches cavalières (25L) + sac de selle (30L) + saccoche tunnel (15L pour le matos photo) ; casques et vêtements d'enduro amenés depuis la France.
Itinéraire : boucle depuis Labuan bajo jusqu'à Pulau Lembata ; juillet-août 2026
Road conditions graded from A (excellent) to D (very bad, at least for a Scooter… a CRF/KLX or even honda ADV would do better on that)
D1 : Labuan Bajo – Reok via Ranggoe, Rego & Tagol (130km ; 5hrs). Section LBajo – Rego (90 km ; B) is quite good tarmac, despite a lot of elevation with many small valleys and passes. Rego – Tagol (10km ; D) is a stone road (not gravel), some ascents & very poor condition ; necessary to lower tyre pressure. Tagol – Reok port (22km, quality depends considerably from D to B). Reok port – Towncenter : B. Night @Iffah Homestay (100k for fan room, mandi attached, no breakfast), simple but clean. Notes : path to danau Sano Limbung was closed ; access to Tiwu Pai & Wae Kuli (waterfalls) not permitted in july 2026.
D2 : Reok – Riung via Pota (105km ; 3h-3h30). The road is very narrow in some part, thanks to the uncut bushes (lowering visibility hence extra caution as animals/people can suddenly appear in a turn…) but generally good condition except many eroded sections and some unpaved ones. Grade C/B. 2 nights @Mentos (285k for AC room)
D3 : Boat tour in Riung (booked directly with a captain, 800k for two for private boat incl. lunch and NP fees) + sunset from Watu Mitong Riung (should not be missed).
D4 : Riung – Muku Saki via Mbay (around 100km ; 3h30). Quality varies from A in the vicinity of Mbay to eroded sections (C) in secluded places. Night @Sao Paolo Homestay (250k for fan room with mandi, maybe overpriced but nice house and great food). Note : if you happen to pass by Mbay on Saturday, the market is well worth a stop (cheapest Ikat on the trip : you’ll be asked normal prices providing you’re OK in Bahasa…)
D5 : Muku Saki – Tanjung Kajuwulu (near Ndete) (90km, 3h). Many patholes, eroded (C). Night at Déjà Vu Homestay (220k for a matress on the floor & outside mandi/toilets ; I woud define this as a tourist trap – the quote we had for food was double priced too…)
D6 : Tanjung Kajuwulu – Waiterang (east of Maumere, 55km , 1h30). Pathholes till maumere, then All good (TransFlores), C/A. Night at Sunset Cottage (new concrete room, very serene place ; 270k for AC with bathroom ; much prefered Sunset over Lena House (more customers, more built up).
D7 : Waiterang – Larantuka via Boru and Eputobi (TransFlores ; grade A ; 115km / 2h40). Particularly liked the drink stalls (marked as Rest Area Eputobi) and the out of order aquatic park just before Larantuka (obyej wisata waiplatin). Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay, which is not advertising itself as Larantuka Beach Homestay as some contributor signals here and on goole maps review. Best breakfast of the trip (Cumi Cumi !!!) ; 275k for AC room with bathroom.
D8 : Local Boat (Kapal Kayu) from the main port to Lembata (Lewoleba). Departure 8am ; price 60k/head + 50k for the bike. Stop enroute on Adonara (where we did not stop due to fights between communities). Night @Elmany Homestay (275k for AC room with bathroom, fan room with shared bathroom also available). Whole afternoon at Pantai Hadakewa, fantastic place (good snorkeling, great views of Ile Api aka Gn Lewotolo). Road condition : A (did not expect the TransLembata to be that good…).
D9 : Loop around Ile Api (50km, 2hrs), anticlockwise. Stops enroute at Situs Tulang Paus (whale squeletton), pantai Jotona, pantai Wena (we expected to snorkel from there, but wind was very strong that day), situs Watu Nale, Selat Sonia. The western coast is far less interesting. Road conditions : bad (C) on the eastern side (up to Riangbeda), good (B/A) afterwards. Night @Elmany Homestay.
D10 : Lewoleba – Lamalera via the western and south coast (70km, 2h30). Good road (B) for roughly the first 55km (up to Tapobali), then eroded track for the last 15km (in some parts steep and dangerous) up to Lamalera (D/C). Notes : 1/ Kuma resort denied us the entry for some drink ; 2/Pantai Waijarang « complex » is abandonned but closed with fences ; you can still sneak in ; 3/ some reports advise to skip Bukit Cinta (foreigner entry fee) for Bukit Doa Watomiten (stations of the cross) ; well Bukit Cinta has also been abandonned (well spent money…sic) but remains opened with structures falling (quickly) appart. Night @Lamalera Inn (200k per head including meals ; very basic fan room + attached mandi). Planned 2 nights, spent only one, as it’s the only tenant I had difficulties with (only interested in money, initially stated crazy prices, starts loud music at 6am … and drinking moke at 8am…)
D11 : Trip to Wulandoni for the Barter Market (Saturday only). Bad road (C) along the coast. Had to report at the Kantor upon arrival, which quite surprisingly asked 100k per person (foreigner) to go inside the (outside) market. Other « local » tourists (a group from Jakarta) were not asked to pay. Well, since a market is a public space and not a zoo, we refused payment and enjoyed the activity from the kopi stall next to it. Returned then to Lamalera for the catches of the day, then to Lewoleba via the mountain road (45km, 2 hours). First 10km to Puor is in very bad condition and uphill (D/C). The remaining is on a newly constructed road (A). Note : Air Panas Sabutobo is abandonned and falling apart (again…) but there are still some water pipes along the river that you can enjoy (depending how lucky you are, just with the forest sounds as companion). Night @Elmany Homestay
D12 : Chill day alond the northern coast (Batu Payung, Pantai Hadakewa with lot of snorkeling, drove till Wailolong and backtracked to Pantai Lewolein for more snorkeling (nice canyons there !) and another fantastic sunset over Ile Api (see GMaps pictures)). Night @Elmany Homestay
D13 : Monday weekly market at Pada, southwest of Lewoleba. Renowned but honnestly dont plan any itinerary specifically for it, just an ordinary Kampung weekly market. Returned to Larantuka and Flores with the 12pm local boat (the same boat that leaves from Larantuka at 8am). Same prices as the first leg. Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay
D14 : Larantuka – Waiterang along the northern coast (100km, 3h) via Pantai Kawaliwu, Tewuk Lewokluok (trail is easy to find, very nice snorkelling in a lagoon), Pantai Lato (to my opinion the most beautiful beach on Flores and you’ll be the only visitor, as opposed to Pantai Koka) and Pantai Hia, until rejoining the TransFlores near Nebe. Grade C on the costal eroded road / track. 3 nights @Lena Guesthouse (booked ahead as it fills up quickly, but we prefered its neighbour Sunset Beach Guesthouse)
D15 : Snorkeling trip organised by Lena Guesthouse (200k per head excluding NP fees and lunch)). The drop-off near Pulau Babi is a very nice spot.
D16 : scooter day trip around the Egon Range (too lazy to hike it…), through nice Sikka villages (route : Watublapi, Umauta, Bola, pantai Doreng, Nakatoli, foot of Gn Egon, Air panas Blidit). The track from Natakoli to the foot of Gn Egon is very steep, damaged and wet (with moss) ; I would recommend not to attempt that in case of bad weather.
D17 : Waiterang – Moni (130km, 3h30, transflores grade A/B) via Pantai Koka (refused to pay the mafia entry fee…) and Jopu (some rumah Adat Lio). Stopped at Museum Bikon Blewut, south of Maumere. Very nice artefacts (especially wooden statues from Papuan, great ikat collection) although very disorganized and sadly non-visited (hence masterpieces fall into oblivion). 2 Nights @Liahz Lodge (150k for fan room, basic bathroom… but right next to Air Panas Liasembe (free, no closing time) !!!).
D18 : Sunrise from Kelimutu with a nice weather (stayed until 8.30am). I don’t know if the sunrise is really worth it (lot of people ascending and watching the sunrise – a lot but nothing compared to e.g. Gn Bromo), nearly everyone going down around 7am, then there is virtually nobody. Trip (20km one way, good road B) to Kampung Adat Nggela (Lio). Although the village is habited and mostly out of the beaten path, I have mixed fillings due to the fact that most ladies (some are pushy) try to sell you (bad) pieces of ikat.
D19 : Moni – Ende via Detusoko paddy fields, Kampung Adat Saga (Lio) and Puncak Ndona ; 75km 2h30. We really liked Saga (nice setting on the mountain, friendly villagers, no selling, mix between traditional and more modern houses in that lively village). Sunset from Bukit Raja, on the peninsula with a 360 view on Gn Iya, Gn Meja Kota Ende and the mountains behind. Note : at the end of the road (search for Gunung Meja Tourist Info Center), there is a (sand) track leading to the path. 1/ only intend the track if you have off road driving experience ; 2/ dont trust the walking time stated by Maps.me. Took us 45mins on a steady pace to reach the summit. Night @Hoja Homestay, 300k for a comfortable AC room with bathroom.
D20 : Ende – Bajawa, via Air Panas Mengeruda ; grade A, 120km, 3 hours. Note : don’t plan to short in Mengeruda (Soa), very easy to spend a half day there, especially if playing with local kids. Stay @Cinnamon GH, 250k for double with fan and hot shower (cheaper options with shared hot shower availlable).
D21 : First day in Bajawa : Watu Nari Wowo (Avatar Hill, sic…), Kampung Adat Ngada Tololela & Gurusina (very very friendly people, complementary views of Gn Inerie & Wolo Deru). Sunset from Puncak Manulalu (well… Heaven’s door Bar & Restaurant)
D22 : Second day in Bajawa : Kampung Adat Ngio (hardly visited, best view on Gn Inerie), Air Panas Malanage, Kampung Adat Bena (the most visited Ngada village (after Bela ?) in the area, we went there at the end of the afternoon to avoid tours, early morning would be fine too), and Gunung Wolobobo for a terrific sunset
D23 : returned to Gunung Wolobobo for sunrise with Gn Ebulobo in the distance (search for a track on the eastern slope, near the communication antenna). You can circuit the rim to the usual viewpoint (westside, sunset spot), the path is easy to find. Then took again the road to Aimere, visiting Kampung Adat Belaraghi enroute (the setting is maybe less rewarding than all the previous villages). 56km ; 1h30. The road to Belaraghi is fine, except the final part.
D24 : Aimere – Ruteng (105km, 3h30). Nice detour by the paddy fields of Wodo (southwest of Golo Loni) of Sunset from Golo Curu (nice encounters with locals). Night @Tange GH, 130k for room with outside (private) bathroom, no breakfast.
D25 : Surroundings of Ruteng (paddy fields north and east of ruteng ; Maps.me has funny tracks starting from Kenda), and the rather pleasant city itself (pasar, churches, lapangan). We finally skipped Liang Bua.
D26 : Ruteng - Labuan Bajo (130km, 3h30). No visits of the waterfalls close to the TransFlores (entry fee (with bule prices) + mandatory guide etc…). Sunset from Bukit Hercadi with very few locals (Bukit Sylvia & Bukit Amelia, just south, were packed). 2 nights @Wellamas Homestay, away from the harbour and its advantages/disadvantages. 230k for comfortable AC room with hot shower.
D27 : New road to Golo Mori Convention Center (another big money well spent…), with nice views on the strait separating Flores from Pulau Rinca. Some empty beaches (e.g. Pantai Pasir Pajang ; we were there on a weekday perhaps frequented by people from LBajo only). 30km (40 mins) one way, perhaps the fastest road of Flores…
D28 : Morning on the peninsula north of Labuan Bajo before taking a flight to Jakarta in the afternoon. On Google maps, the asphalt road only goes to Teras Langit ; it now (august 2026) continues to Puncak Basok and is still in progress towards the eastern part of the peninsula. On the way back, two other nice Bukit where you can enjoy nice views on the bay (and the resorts…) : Bukit Lontar & Bukit Beta. Note : we only found one public (and nice and quiet) beach in the area ; tagged as Sunset Point Beach on Gmaps. All the rest was closed by fences ; they are privately owned (although the Indonesian consitution grants the coastline as public space).
We're a family of five: one dad, one mom, and three kids aged 10, 15, and 18.
Before diving into each stop in more detail, here are a few general thoughts:
We wanted to sample a bit of everything Japan has to offer in terms of landscapes, accommodation, and transport. We were after walks, temples, restaurants, shopping, and some downtime—but no "all-inclusive experiences" or museums for this first visit.
Three medium-sized (60x42x25) canvas suitcases, plus a duffel bag and a few small backpacks. 23 kg in the hold on the way out, 60 kg on the way back. 36 kg of shopping, without even trying. I think this is the maximum suitcase size if you don’t want to stress on the Shinkansen: they fit easily in the overhead racks.
Round-trip with Cathay Pacific, layover in Hong Kong: no need to collect luggage in Hong Kong—we checked it in at departure and picked it up in Tokyo, and the same on the way back (checked in Osaka, picked up at our final destination). This let us explore Hong Kong without worrying about our bags. Food and entertainment were pretty good—meals included a little Häagen-Dazs on each flight, and the entertainment had way more Asian cinema than you’d find on a Western airline, which was a nice way to see how much weight Western culture carries in Asia.
The original plan was to fly directly from Ishigaki to Hong Kong, but due to Typhoon Dolphin, we had to cancel the Ishigaki leg. Cathay didn’t bat an eye about swapping the Ishigaki-HK flight for an Osaka-HK one, even though it was twice as long.
We were a bit too attached to the idea of ending the trip with some beach time and replaced Ishigaki with Shirahama. It was a mistake—we should’ve visited Hiroshima or spent a little more time in Tokyo instead.
Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.
It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected.
Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel.
I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability.
So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.
I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:
Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras
Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya
Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat
Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott
Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou
To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog:
From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations
Hello and welcome aboard this new travel journal!
We’re heading off to Ireland together—a country I’ve wanted to explore for a very long time.
The moment has finally arrived.
We’ll be traveling as a family—my wife, my husband, and our 7-year-old daughter.
Here’s our itinerary:
24/07: Flight from Marseille to Dublin, overnight in Dublin
25/07: Dublin, overnight in Dublin
26/07: Dublin, overnight in Dublin
27/07: Pick up rental car, drive to Dingle, overnight near Tralee on the peninsula
28/07: Visit the Ring of Kerry
29/07: Adare, Bunratty Castle, Galway, overnight in Outheragh, near Galway
30/07: Cliffs of Moher, overnight in Outheragh
31/07: Connemara, overnight in Outheragh
01/08: Drive to Sligo via Westport and Downpatrick Head, overnight in Sligo
02/08: Slieve League, Silver Strand Beach, Glencolmcille, overnight in Sligo
03/08: Drive to Derry via Glenveagh National Park, overnight in Derry
04/08: Giant’s Causeway, Dunluce Castle, Portrush, Derry, overnight in Derry
05/08: Drive to Belfast, visit Belfast, overnight in Lisburn (Belfast suburbs)
06/08: Game of Thrones filming locations: Dark Hedges, Carrick-a-Rede, Ballintoy, etc., overnight in Lisburn
07/08: Drive to the Wicklow Mountains, visit Wicklow Mountains National Park, overnight in Blessington
08/08: Drive back to Dublin and return to Marseille.
Cost breakdown:
Flights:
Outbound flights with KLM via Amsterdam for 3: 175 € + 40,000 Flying Blue miles (so essentially a free ticket)
Return flight with Aer Lingus for 3: 489 €
Rental car:
10 days booked with Enterprise via Carigami: 443 € including zero-excess insurance.
Accommodation:
Dublin: 3 nights at Maldron Hotel New Cross: 394 €
Tralee: 2 nights in a caravan (Ocean Trail Oasis): 292 €
Outheragh: 3 nights Airbnb, family room with private bathroom: 430 €
Sligo: 2 nights at Clayton Hotel: 456 €
Derry: 2 nights at Belfray Inn: 255 €
Lisburn: 2 nights at Temple Golf Club: 232 €
Blessington: 1 night at Baltyboys Lodges B&B: 158 €
That brings our total to 3,325 € for three.
On the ground, visits, fuel, and food cost around 2,500 €.
So this was quite an expensive trip.
A few price examples:
1 liter of unleaded fuel: 1.89 €
3-day pass in Dublin: 18 €
1 scoop of ice cream: 5 to 6.5 €
Castle visit: 15 € per person
A coffee: 3-4 €
A glass of wine at a restaurant: 8-10 €
A half-pint of Guinness: 7-12 €
Now, here’s the day-by-day account of our adventure in Ireland:
Our decision is our decision. And it’s firm and final. Next winter, our plane will spread its great wings toward the island of Ceylon! "Wait a minute... Ceylon... Ceylon... that name rings a bell, but I can’t quite place it on the globe Grandma gave me for Christmas! Ceylon... Oh right, I’ve got it: Ceylon is the name of my tea!" Exactly. But the name on your pretty tea box is also the one used until 1972 for this island nation, a speck on the Indian Ocean at the southern tip of the Indian subcontinent: Sri Lanka!
For this new adventure, I’m exceptionally leaving my Flo behind, cowardly replaced by a double dose of testosterone. To write the book of this journey with me, I’m bringing along my brother, who’s used to this kind of thing, and... a guest star: My model of resilience. My dad! All aboard! Or rather, all aboard our tuk-tuk! Yes, you read that right: A real tuk-tuk, a little colorful rolling box that putters along at two miles an hour. The idea? Well, Sri Lanka and its winding roads overlooking the vastness of lush nature are tailor-made for this kind of vehicle. And since it’s one of only two countries in the world that allow foreigners to rent and drive these mini speedsters, we’ll be crisscrossing the island in our two-square-meter rolling box. Plus, adopting this mode of transport is a surefire way to connect directly with the locals, who’ll surely be curious to see a foreigner driving their iconic vehicle. Not to mention the... let’s say... spicy anecdotes it might generate. I mean, heading into a subtropical zone with my jet-black dad and his unpredictable digestive flora while deliberately choosing the tuk-tuk as our *only* means of transport? That’s the winning combo for an unforgettable adventure! "More seriously, Dad, Sullivan, I’m already loving the idea of living this adventure together, the three of us—brothers and father..."
So, does the intro to this new adventure get your salivary glands going? Yes? Too bad. Because unfortunately, the program handed out by the lady at the entrance has been slightly... let’s say *crumpled*. Some might even say "scrunched up and nearly tossed in the trash." First, six days ago, as the countdown echoed in us like a call to adventure, Cyclone Ditwah grabbed Sri Lanka, played with it like a rag doll, and left it battered on the ground. The toll is devastating: over a thousand dead, thousands of homes wiped out by relentless rains, roads and railways swallowed by massive mudslides. A country wounded once again, after the civil war, the 2004 tsunami, and the post-Covid economic crisis.
But as if this weather disaster wasn’t enough to shake our unbreakable adventurer spirit, fate decided to mess with us further by cutting our trio down to two. The victim? My brother, violently turned away because of a simple date on his passport that didn’t match the border officials’ expectations. Return to sender!
So now it’s just the two of us allowed to board the Qatar Airways Airbus A380 for this trip. If he were here, Denis Brognart would say, "And in the end, only one remains!" Except I know you’ll be with us, following our adventures! Right?
This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rental options kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!
The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan?
Not in the end.
The south or not the south?
Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or go with the flow?
Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela about this destination (the guide has been updated since).
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You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek!
(Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
You’ll find here a post with some practical information.
And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.
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As a supplement, the route track.
Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...
Hello everyone, I’m happy to welcome you to this new travel journal.
We’re heading to Costa Rica together—a Central American destination that dreams are made of for many French travelers and attracts crowds from France.
It was the country’s wild nature and safety that convinced us to go, since we’re traveling with our 7-year-old little one.
We didn’t have much vacation time in February 2026 (only 12 days), so we optimized as much as possible.
Here’s the itinerary:
Wednesday, February 11: Flight from Marseille to San Jose via Paris and Atlanta
Thursday, February 12: Pick up the car, drive to Poas Volcano, visit La Paz Waterfall Gardens
Friday, February 13: Poas Volcano and drive to Manuel Antonio
Saturday, February 14: Manuel Antonio National Park
Sunday, February 15: Nauyaca Waterfall and Playa Linda
Monday, February 16: Drive to Monte Verde and Santa Elena Reserve
Tuesday, February 17: El Tigre Waterfall Reserve and Treetopia Park
Wednesday, February 18: Monte Verde Reserve with a guide and drive to La Fortuna
Thursday, February 19: Sloth guided tour, Observatory Lodge Park
Friday, February 20: Arenal Volcano National Park, Termalistas del Arenal hot springs, and night tour
Saturday, February 21: Return to San Jose, flight to Paris via Atlanta
Sunday, February 22: Arrival in Paris and flight to Marseille.
That gives us a solid 9 days in the country.
Budget breakdown:
Costa Rica is an expensive country, but no more so than France. However, almost all hikes and waterfalls are paid entry, which can really add up.
For meals, sodas (6–10 €) are cheaper than restaurants (10–20 € per dish).
Flights:
We chose Delta Airlines for the price: Marseille to San Jose was 740 € per person (modifiable, with checked baggage and seat selection included).
Other direct flights from Europe were priced between 1200 € and 1600 € with more restrictive conditions.
That’s 2220 € for the family.
Accommodations:
Alajuela, first night: 139 € (1 night) at Rodeo Estancia Boutique Hotel, with personalized airport pickup, transfer to the hotel, and a briefing from Vert Costa Rica agency the next day.
Poas: 66 € (1 night) at Cabañas Tierra Fértil (entire apartment).
Manuel Antonio: 394 € (3 nights) at La Palapa Ecolodge (hotel in the jungle).
Monte Verde: Chalet Aloha Monteverde Cloud Forest (2 bedrooms): 125 € (2 nights).
La Fortuna: Arenal Dream Garden (1 bedroom): 217 € (3 nights).
Total: 941 €.
Car rental:
I went through Vert Costa Rica agency (Vincent is a French expat who set up the agency in Costa Rica and makes great YouTube videos with useful tips).
I rented a 4x4 that was delivered to the hotel the day after arrival and returned at the airport before the flight. The total was 772 €, including full insurance (zero deductible), a child seat, and a phone with a Costa Rican SIM and WhatsApp. The rental company was Poas Rent a Car. The vehicle was well-maintained—no complaints.
Gas: 100 € for the whole trip (3 fill-ups).
Activities:
To get discounts, I bought the pass offered by Vincent, which paid for itself after just one activity. It cost me 30 € (promo since I rented the car through him).
Prices are for 3 people. I’ve added stars to rate them:
La Paz Waterfall Gardens ****: 112 €
Poas Volcano National Park *: 33 €
Manuel Antonio National Park ****: 35 €
Nauyaca Waterfall ***: 25 €
Santa Elena Reserve **: 45 €
El Tigre Waterfall Reserve ****: 141 € (with meal)
Treetopia (ziplining, suspension bridges) **: 250 €
Guided tour of Monte Verde Reserve ***: 113 €
Sloth guided tour (with breakfast) ***: 115 €
Arenal Observatory Lodge (with meal) ****: 102 €
Arenal Volcano National Park *: 34 €
Termalistas del Arenal ****: 20 €
Night tour ***: 116 €
Total: 1171 €.
Meals: 600 €
My favorite restaurants:
Poas: Food court Mercaditas in Fraijanes
Manuel Antonio (near La Palapa): La Langosta and also El Patio
Near Nauyaca Waterfall: Ricar2 el Avión
Between Manuel Antonio and Monte Verde: Soda D’Calle
Santa Elena: HG’s Food
Guadalupe (between Monte Verde and La Fortuna): Soda Río Piedras
Arenal Observatory Lodge restaurant
Arenal Oasis Ecolodge restaurant
Other expenses: 300 € (groceries for breakfast, drinks, ice cream, souvenirs, etc.)
Total overall: 6065 € (about 2020 € per person).
Now, here’s the day-by-day account of this beautiful trip.
In early March, full of carefree joy and happy to return to Morocco, we landed in Marrakech under the sun.
We spent just one night in Marrakech at the Hôtel Toulousain, as we did on our previous trip. And we booked our 3 nights for the end of our trip, the second half of March... Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! But we’re not there yet...
Our first goal is to reach Magdaz, a mountain village in the Tessaout Valley, sometimes called the lost valley.
We discovered the village of Magdaz on this forum, and we were charmed by the photos and comments from travelers who came before us.
The road is easy—it’s dry, and the tarmac takes us right to the village gates at over 2,000 meters above sea level.
We arrive in the afternoon and are left speechless by the beauty of the place. A jewel of Berber architecture! Perfectly restored granaries and kasbahs!
A young man from the village guides us on the visit and opens the doors to the terraces overlooking the village.
Several magnificent collective granaries have been beautifully restored. The warm colors of the stone capture the light wonderfully. It’s stunning!
We won’t find anything decent to stay overnight there, so we head back down a bit and settle in at the Assounfou guesthouse. Lovely welcome. The place is in excellent condition and very clean. It’s spacious, but we’re the only ones there.
First day full of promise!
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style.
All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert.
However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about it.
I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.
I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guardians for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course.
Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious.
Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons.
That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though? Much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been full of holes for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and enormous beast with its own garden. Yet it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water there for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not just for fun—these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
Hi everyone,
We (two adults, 74 and 70 years old) had already shared a travel journal about our first trip to the Philippines in February/March 2019 on this forum (https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=9377175;search_string=carnet%20philippines). We had visited Manila, the Banaue rice terraces, Sagada, the Visayas (Bohol, Siquijor, Dumaguette), and on our way back to Luzon, the Taal volcano before returning to France. Delighted by this trip, organized by the French-speaking agency Alizé, we decided to further explore this beautiful country, this time focusing on Coron and Palawan.
Before writing this journal, I should mention that these are personal comments and don’t reflect any differing opinions. Without any literary or photographic talent, I’ll stick to the facts and share a few details about the visits, hotels, and restaurants.
Preparations
We decided to return in mid-January 2025 and consulted three French-speaking tour operators to create a trip based on our wishes (places to visit, type of accommodation) and budget. Comparing three operators helped us weigh their advice and make our choices. Only our first operator respected the budget, a second came close, and the third proposed a slightly more upscale trip. In the end, we chose the agency from our first trip. Our discussions helped refine our itinerary, and when we reviewed it point by point, the document provided was perfect, full of great tips. The most debated point was a 3-day, 2-night cruise between Coron and Palawan. We were tempted but worried about being the only "older" travelers among younger people and feared two uncomfortable nights. Reassured by our tour operator, we finally opted for this "exploration." We’ll come back to that later.
Once the choice was made and dates set, we booked our international flights with Cathay Pacific for 750 € per person, which offers the best schedules (short layovers) at an acceptable price for flights arriving in Cebu. Our trip started on February 25 and returned to Paris on March 15.
International flights
The round-trip flights went smoothly. Cathay does the job well, without frills. The service quality seems to have slightly declined compared to our previous trips with them. Hong Kong Airport is huge but very practical.
Note that not all airlines serve Cebu.
Recommendation: Fill out your Philippine entry form within 72 hours before your flight. This can prevent issues with the airline (possible boarding refusal) and saves a lot of time upon arrival (see the Philippine embassy website).
Domestic flights
For our two domestic flights—Cebu to Coron and Puerto Princesa to Cebu—our tour operator chose Philippine Airlines and their propeller planes. No problems there.
Day 1:
We landed around 12 PM (local time) after 17 hours of travel. A driver was waiting for us at the airport exit and took us to our hotel, intentionally chosen near the airport (Mandaue, about 10 minutes away) to help us recover and get a good night’s sleep before our early morning domestic flight the next day. The Mayoo Hotel, reasonably priced, was perfect for this. Large, beautiful room in a new building—clean, comfortable, with a spa. We could relax by the pool on the 16th floor and enjoy the city view. The breakfast was exceptional, and the staff was smiling, attentive, and helpful. An ATM in the lobby allowed for withdrawals. However, the hotel is in a neighborhood with nothing to see or do. We dined at the Korean restaurant K-GOGI across from the hotel—a real attraction and a great discovery.
Day 2:
After a restful night, we were driven to the airport around 6:30 AM for an 8:10 AM flight from Cebu to Busuanga (Coron).
The flight was uneventful. Upon arrival, we paid 200 pesos per person for the Coron tourist fee before a 40-minute transfer to our hotel: Natura Resort, located outside the city in a secluded spot. The setting is stunning—a beautifully maintained tropical garden, a pleasant pool, and the option to book massages. The cottages are tropical-style with thatched roofs, simple and unpretentious.
The owner, who speaks French, told us that given the heat and our ages, climbing the 721 steps to the top of Mount Tapyas wasn’t necessary. She gave us a few rooftop recommendations to watch the sunset over Coron Bay. After a good swim in the pool and a meal at the resort’s pleasant restaurant, we hired a tricycle to go into town. We were told it costs 150 pesos one way, and depending on the return time, it could exceed 250 pesos. But our driver gave us his WhatsApp number and charged the same price regardless of the time. He just earned two days’ worth of customers.
He dropped us off at the port where bangkas (local boats) gather for day trips. It was the end of the day, so there was a rush. A few shops around the port sold waterproof bags for marine excursions at reasonable prices (compared to back home), after some bargaining. We wandered the town’s alleys looking for the Top Hotel, whose rooftop is famous. Indeed, it’s perfectly located to admire the sunset and enjoy a refreshing drink.
We dined nearby at a small Chinese restaurant, then just had to call our driver to head back.
The night wasn’t entirely restful—our hotel had a soundtrack of all the countryside animals, and it seemed they had no set bedtime! :
If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!
Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with:
Zero preparation.
Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.
Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?
The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!
The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.
So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!
So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!
This travel journal summarizes a trip I took in March to Argentine and Chilean Patagonia. It starts in El Calafate and ends in Ushuaia. During my planning, I considered looking into the Australis cruise from Punta Arenas to Ushuaia, as well as the W trek in Torres del Paine National Park. In both cases, I was put off by the prices. Instead of the cruise, I found two interesting wildlife excursions from Punta Arenas: whale watching in the Strait of Magellan and observing king penguins in Tierra del Fuego. The journey to Ushuaia was by bus. For Torres del Paine, things were a bit confusing, so I reached out to two agencies. In the end, I went with a rental car option, overnight stays on-site, and day hikes. I shared my full itinerary with the agency and ended up being taken care of by a local Argentine agency and a Chilean one.
So, here we go...
Hi everyone,
Way back when, before the internet and all that, there were Larousse encyclopedias, and in the proper names section, I came across a photo of Samarkand. Just the name made me dream. I kept it in the back of my mind for later, and last winter, I revisited the idea. Within a few weeks, I managed to plan our 16-day getaway. Oh, I didn’t do it all by myself—I used a travel agency to handle the flights, accommodations, transportation, and local guide. It was a custom trip for three people, tailored to what we wanted to do, what we wanted to see, within the time we’d chosen, at our own pace.
The main goal of the trip was to visit the three iconic cities of architectural art in Uzbekistan (just for the sheer beauty of it) and, very secondarily, to take a break with a short hike.
We left in early May, flying from Toulouse to Istanbul, then to Tashkent:
- One day in Tashkent, 2 nights,
- By car (6 hours) to the Fergana region: Margilan (silk and pottery), 2 nights, with a guide,
- Back to Tashkent, then a flight to Khiva, 2 nights, 1 day with a guide, 1 day on our own,
- Train to Bukhara (6 hours, sleeper cars), 3 nights, 1 day with a guide, 1 day on our own,
- Train to Samarkand, 2 nights, 1 day with a guide,
- By car to Tersak, 1 night with a local family, short hike, same guide,
- By car to Shakhrisabz (Tamerlane’s hometown), then back to Samarkand,
- Samarkand, 2 more nights,
- Train back to Tashkent, final night, and return home.
What I took away from this Silk Road trip:
- A completely safe country in May—don’t go later because of the heat,
- The warm welcome and easy connection with Uzbeks, a multicultural people,
- A constant puzzle with currency exchange (how much is that in euros? ) 1 € = 14,000 sums,
- Logistics handled by a local agency—top-notch,
- Delicious meals at a very reasonable price,
- Total awe in Khiva and Samarkand (palaces, mausoleums, mosques, madrasas),
- The length of the trip, which let us wander and take our time.
A few photos, but not too many—I don’t want to spoil the joy of discovery!