Hi there, I’ve been traveling for 18 years now, at least 6 months a year, and as the years go by, I actually enjoy coming back to France more and more—a feeling I struggled with at first. I mean, we always think the grass is greener elsewhere.
But in the end, I find meaning in that saying about how there’s no place like home. I still love traveling just as much, but now my trips are shorter, and I enjoy spending more time in our beautiful country, even though I don’t hesitate to criticize it.
How about you? How do you handle coming back from your travels?
When you're in your home country and all you do is work, and then during vacation you're not working and living the good life, there's an undeniable and understandable post-vacation blues.
What makes it worse is when the climate is more pleasant in your vacation destination.
Personally, after returning from Asia, I find myself faced with grim faces and rudeness instead of the politeness and smiles I experienced there. Let's be honest, I don't feel like coming back anymore.
When I was younger, it was different. After three weeks away, I had an irrepressible craving for steak-frites and good old French conversations.
I'm sure this discussion will bring very diverse opinions, given how varied everyone's mindset and personal situation can be.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
This is a really lovely old-school VF-style topic 🙂.
I won’t really talk about France—I actually go there very little, just driving cross-country or sometimes flying to reach a European base.
Your topic reminds me of the RN 164.
The RN 164 was de Gaulle’s promise to the Bretons in Quimper, back in February 1969—a road from Rennes to the tip of Brittany, where I lived at the time. I was 2 years old when the promise was made.
Over decades of travel, I’ve seen dirt roads turn into highways, major construction projects completed in six months, wide lanes as broad as runways with 130 km/h limits spreading across Eastern Europe. I’ve watched the world move forward, develop, improve.
The RN 164? Still not finished. Construction drags on for ages, and as soon as one section is done, another gets torn up because it’s already outdated.
So they limit, restrict, divert, ban, monitor.
Clearly, the money went elsewhere. The will wasn’t there, nor the courage, I suppose. Cultural docility doesn’t help either.
Returning to Brittany always makes me sad, even though I know I’m doing it because I love my job—it excites and amuses me. But this grayness, this dull landscape with its poor palette of grays and greens, this passion for uniformity celebrated as the norm, this refusal of action, life, color.
And that overwhelming sense of decline.
Well, that’s my answer... 🙂
Hello, I’ve been traveling for 18 years now, at least 6 months a year, and as the years go by, I’ve come to appreciate returning to France more and more—a feeling I struggled with at first. Of course, we always think the grass is greener elsewhere.
But in the end, I find meaning in that saying that you’re still pretty well off at home. I still love traveling just as much, but now my trips are shorter, and I enjoy spending more time in our beautiful country, which I don’t hesitate to criticize, though.
How about you? How do you approach your returns from trips?
Hi! My returns to France are a real pleasure, especially for the food and the temperate climate. I’ve traveled quite a bit around the world (though I haven’t visited every country), but nothing beats French cuisine and the products we have here. Not being a cook at all, I still enjoy what I make, and it’s way better than in restaurants abroad or even in many French restaurants where the food really lacks flavor and originality.
I’ve always loved departures.
I’ve always loved returns.
Except that I have to go back to work...
I enjoy coming home, my own food (especially if I’ve eaten out almost the whole trip), a bit of routine, and the quiet.
And then, coming back often makes me realize how lucky I am to have been born in France!
A democracy, a secular society, freedom for women, the ability to dress how you want, eat or drink what you want, no corruption at every street corner, no overwhelming crowds everywhere, a certain cleanliness, decent hygiene that means you don’t have to worry, easier access to quality healthcare even if you’re broke.
But also varied food, days that change with the seasons.
A country where it can snow, where the sun can set at 10 PM...
And then comes the moment when all this seems ordinary, when my legs get restless, when the urge to explore grips the little *franchouillarde* inside me...
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Since I usually only go away for 2 weeks, I don’t (yet) feel the urge to get back to my "home sweet home" at the end of the trip. On the contrary, I’d love to have one or two extra weeks to discover new places or spend more time in the ones I love.
When I return, like Agnès, I’m even more aware of how lucky I am to have been born in France (except for the unpredictable weather and daylight hours 😏).
Since I mostly travel to countries where the standard of living is (much) lower than ours, I find that people complain way too much (about everything and nothing), and personally, I put everyday hassles into perspective... for a few weeks. Then, routine kicks back in, and I start getting annoyed again over little things 😕
Before long, planning a new trip becomes a must (even if the trip never actually happens—no big deal, planning is a bit like traveling too 😎).
Si tu diffères de moi, mon frère, loin de me léser, tu m'enrichis (Saint Exupéry)
A democracy, an extinguished religion, freedom for women, dressing how you want, eating or drinking what you want, no corruption on every street corner, not an oppressive crowd everywhere, a certain cleanliness, decent hygiene that lets you not worry, easier access than elsewhere to high-quality healthcare even if you don’t have a dime.
You’re cracking me up: everything we’ve already lost or will soon lose 🤪
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
You can’t put it like that.
A monarch, a king, holds a special position for the nation—he is the "body of the king," consubstantial with the nation.
In France, you’ve surely noticed that despite the monarchic ceremonies every five years, there’s no longer a monarch; nor is there a nation in the classic sense, as understood elsewhere in the world. Just a state to which an identity, now mourned, must submit.
I think what you’re really not grasping, by viewing the countries you visit through such a typically French, by-the-book lens, is that almost everywhere else, people have the immense comfort of knowing who they are—culturally, ethnically—of understanding their role and place in society, and having a higher power to turn to.
Are they unhappier and more reliant on all sorts of psychotropics than the people of France, tossed between uncertain identities and suspended futures?
As we speak, two Belarusians are surely chatting over tea or an Olivier salad, and one is recounting her trip to France. Or Spain. She’s explaining that, in Minsk at least, everything is spotless—even the underground—you can trust the police, the country is well-run, life is calm, and maybe people should think twice before criticizing.
And she’s glad her daughter, who went to Poland for a while to work on a Schengen visa for an online clothing company’s dispatch center, eventually came back—safe, at peace, and confident. And she couldn’t care less about the risks of doing politics or journalism in her country.
Hey Jack,
In a setup similar to yours, my take is different; when I'm in Brittany—France, that is—it's out of necessity, even though I totally agree with Attila.
@Tatra
The moment the thread was posted, you were already drooling. And the follow-up didn’t disappoint.
Attila says exactly what she means, whether you like it or not, and there’s no need, once again, to belittle her as a "slow high-schooler" (we know you’re an expert). What she writes is common sense (oh my God, how awful!), the opinion shared by most, which deserves respect. If she mentioned Thailand, it’s because her conversation partner is comfortable there, but she could just as well have cited... Belarus (no need to pull the "divine right" card).
We know your sympathies for authoritarian regimes and your aversion to democracy and its core principles. We know your hatred for France, we see your identitarian streak, your yearning for ethnic and cultural purity, cleanliness, and we learn that in Belarus "you can trust the police."
almost everywhere, people have the immense comfort of knowing who they are, culturally, ethnically, knowing their role, their place in society, and having a transcendence to talk to.
I can talk to my ancestors and my descendants, but how do I "talk" to my transcendence?
But I thought you were already doing that by expressing yourself like in your travel journals.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
You could have replied to me directly—no need to pretend you’re answering others .
Yes, what she’s saying is "common sense" in France, and it’s widely shared, by many, by most. Normal.
That’s exactly what I meant with the example of the two Belarusian women, which I used because I’m thinking of someone specific. So I’m repeating the reactions and comments—a real example, not fiction.
We know your sympathies for authoritarian regimes and your aversion to democracy and its fundamentals. We know your hatred of France, we see you as identitarian, aspiring to ethnic and cultural purity, to cleanliness, and we learn that in Belarus "you can trust the police."
Come on, one time it’s my libertarianism that bothers you, another time, like today, you see me as a champion of state authority.
I would’ve hoped you’d read calmly and without prejudice—prejudices you’ve admitted to—what I explain: I think people live better with a clear place in society, feeling clearly part of a nation, without having to access it through the staircase of universalism, without having to abstractly renounce their own, and with a religion.
If that shocks you, it’s still "common sense" for the vast majority of humans, even Europeans—any Pole, Czech, Slovak, Romanian, Hungarian, Dane, Swede, Welsh, Scottish, Irish, Albanian, Serb, and so many others... would agree.
I’m not talking about passports.
A Hungarian in Romania *is*, *lives*, *sees* themselves as Hungarian. An Albanian from Kosovo *is*, *lives*, *sees* themselves as Albanian.
No hesitation, no reservation—and so what?
And if I think and say that, in my opinion, France’s very serious problems right now—its decline in the world—stem from these fundamentals (a state first, a nation forged by force afterward), I could add that the changes to the concept of *laïcité* in the early 2000s didn’t help.
Wouldn’t you be less bitter, by the way, if this observation of decline weren’t well-founded?
I’ll surely find one or two Brittany locals to badmouth the region.
But does that make them representative of all Bretons?
Back to Belarus— I don’t think I’m wrong in saying that more Belarusians flee their country for political reasons than French people flee France for the same reasons.
Same goes for Russians, etc...
Here’s a little article to wrap up this digression from the topic at hand.
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No, Agnès.
The link you shared refers to a movement of around 200,000 people at the very start of the war in Ukraine—there was a context to it.
At that time, there were indeed Russians and Belarusians in some countries. I saw it myself in Georgia and Kazakhstan.
That’s over now; the vast majority have returned home.
Over a significant period, there have been fewer departures from Belarus than from France. I know it’s tempting to think the opposite, but it’s not true—and I’m not making any judgment here. Just the facts.
But none of this really has much to do with travel return impressions anymore, so let whoever wants to dig deeper do so.
No, Agnès.
The link you shared refers to a movement of about 200,000 people at the very start of the war in Ukraine—there was a context to it.
At that time, there were indeed Russians and Belarusians in some countries. I saw it myself in Georgia and Kazakhstan.
That’s over now; the vast majority have returned home.
Over a significant period, there are fewer people leaving Belarus than France—I know, it’s tempting to think the opposite. But it’s not true, and I’m not making any judgment about it. Just the facts.
But none of this really has much to do with travel return impressions anymore, so let whoever wants to dig deeper do so.
Michel
good evening, you’re forgetting to mention how many French people who left to chase El Dorado come back disillusioned 🤪
without me having any opinion on it. Just the facts.
I’m happy to consider the facts, but precise facts are better:
Over a significant period
How long is a "significant period" exactly?
the majority of them have returned.
What percentage of those who left does "the majority" represent?
there are fewer departures from Belarus than from France
Could you share the sources that gave you the numbers of people who left (and returned) from these two countries (obviously in relation to their populations) by year?
Si tu diffères de moi, mon frère, loin de me léser, tu m'enrichis (Saint Exupéry)
So a really nice topic in the old-school VF style 🙂.
I’d love to know why this topic is considered old-school...
She explains that, after all, in Minsk, at least everything is very clean, even the underground, you can trust the police, the country is well-maintained, life is calm,
you’d be living in Minsk or another country, well, you’d be forced to do assembly-line work in industry and work 50 hours a week.
For a poverty-level salary.
Since you only remembered one figure from the article, here it is:
First elected in 1994, Alexander Lukashenko is running for a sixth term in 2020. The elections, marred by large-scale fraud, sparked a protest movement of unprecedented scale in Belarus’s history, which the regime gradually stifled through repression of exceptional magnitude. Since August 2020, over 40,000 Belarusians have been detained for one reason or another, and more than 3,000 cases of torture have been recorded. By May 2022, nearly 1,200 political prisoners were languishing in the regime’s jails. This is in addition to the shutdown of 550 NGOs, the banning of around a hundred media outlets, and the labeling of nearly 400 Telegram channels, blogs, or chats as "extremist." Anastasia Kostiugova, daughter of political analyst Valeria Kostiugova—arrested in June 2021 and imprisoned ever since—now serves as the communications manager for Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya. She sums up the situation in the country like this: "Before 2020, only a few opponents faced the regime’s brutality. Today, it’s everyone. If you haven’t been beaten yourself, you know someone who has; if you haven’t been to prison, one of your loved ones has. If you haven’t been fired from your job, you have friends who have."
This repression has driven a large number of Belarusians into exile. The scale of departures is hard to quantify. Depending on the source, estimates range from tens of thousands to 200,000 or even over 300,000 people, out of a population of about 9.3 million in the country.
Not a word about Ukraine, but rather the relentless grip of a dictator.
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I’ll try to sum this up; not sure discussing things like this in the abstract is a great idea, but let’s give it a go.
@Muriel18
A significant length of time is 10 years.
Fewer Belarusians leave their country than French people leave theirs, proportionally speaking, of course.
And most of those who do leave go to Russia.
That’s just how it is; the idea that everyone who can flee a dictatorship does so is wrong—it’s not like that at all.
Things are more complex than the media makes them out to be.
@Matthews
If you lived in Minsk or another country, you’d be forced to do assembly-line work in industry and work 50 hours a week for a pittance.
I don’t know where you got that from. Working hours *are* long, and Belarusians often work one Saturday a month without pay for "cleaning"—that part’s true.
But they also earn a decent salary for the country, travel (often to Turkey or Egypt), and it’s not the poverty you’re describing.
Do you know any Belarusians personally?
@Attila
Not a word about Ukraine, just the obsession with a dictator.
Your article is clearly activist; the regime is authoritarian, but you don’t seem to understand that most people there are okay with it, and Europe scares them more than it attracts them.
Again... have you actually talked to any of the people involved?
Emigration is identified as a major issue, toward the West (during the fall of 2023, it’s estimated that 200 to 350,000 Belarusians left for Europe) but also toward the East (over 60,000 Belarusians are working in Russia).
But you’ll probably tell me again that my sources are biased... Westernized?
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But you’ll probably say my sources are biased again... Westernized?
A bit, yes, but mostly they’re about a specific context and moment, not a long-term trend.
It turns out the idea of Belarusians fleeing the country like East Germans once fled the GDR is false; I’m not judging or even thinking about it, but that’s just how it is.
But they also have a decent salary for the country, travel often to Turkey or Egypt.
Not the poverty you describe.
Hey, that’s a bit unfair.
First, the average salary in Belarus is one of the lowest in Europe—barely 700 € a month.
Text.
Plus, you’ve had the chance to get a decent education, go to university, and land a good job—something that isn’t the case for everyone in the world.
At the end of the day, if you enjoy working on an assembly line, tightening bolts, and getting your hands dirty (I started my working life that way), that’s your call.
@Mathews
The average salary is assessed in terms of purchasing power, not absolute value. I’m not saying salaries are high, but costs are low—especially rent, which might be the lowest in Europe relative to income.
I’d say people there live overall like in Romania: income is lower, the cost of living is also much lower, but the standard of living seems quite similar.
Do you know any Belarusians who say things like that?
Young people in particular?
Because when it comes to education and general knowledge, it’s a whole different story compared to France, huh! 🤪
You’ve got a lot of preconceived ideas...
@Atilla
You’ll find the sources yourself, Agnès.
We’ve strayed a bit from the topic, but actually, not that much: I’m trying to explain that every nation tends to have a narrative that glorifies itself and downplays others, that we see the world through the lens of our ideology.
Unless you take a lot of distance and step out of the frame, but that’s almost a job in itself.
A democracy, an extinct religion, freedom for women, dressing how you want, eating or drinking what you want, no corruption on every street corner, no oppressive crowds everywhere, a certain cleanliness, decent hygiene that lets you not worry, easier access than elsewhere to effective healthcare even if you don’t have a penny.
On the contrary, a religion on the rise that all our descendants will benefit from 100% in a few decades.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Like all religions, the one you’re talking about will fade away.
In fact, it’s already fading.
The number of non-religious people is growing in the countries that export it, including among new French citizens.
What slows the movement down is "respect."
Respect for elders, for tradition.
Fitting into the mold, not upsetting one’s family.
So people no longer believe, but they don’t come out for fear of offending or being abandoned by their own.
It took quite a while for homosexuals to come out—it’s hard to admit you’re different when you think you’re the only one.
This end is playing out in a bath of blood and fury. The beast lashes out before dying, and like any sect, it recruits those who are uncomfortable in their own skin.
It wouldn’t have anything to fear if it just lived its life quietly.
The same was true, by the way, for Christendom.
For sources, I’ll refer you to Tatra. He’s an expert.
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Since it’s already happened that some ill-intentioned people pulled this on me, I think when someone smart plays dumb, it’s not just that they don’t respect others—they don’t respect themselves either.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Hi there, I’ve been traveling for 18 years now, at least 6 months a year, and as the years go by, well, I actually enjoy coming back to France more and more—a feeling I struggled with at first. I mean, we always think the grass is greener elsewhere.
Then, in the end, I find meaning in that saying that you’re still pretty well off at home. So I still love traveling just as much, but now my trips are shorter, and I enjoy spending more time in our beautiful country, which I don’t hesitate to criticize, by the way.
And you—how do you handle coming back from your trips?
I forgot to mention—and it’s surprising no one else has—that it’s such a delight to be back in your own bed. The first two nights, I practically purr with comfort 😉
I also think that a long enough trip helps you handle the return to daily life better, and the benefits last for months.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
As has happened before when ill-intentioned people have pulled this on me, I think that when someone intelligent plays dumb, it’s not only that they don’t respect others—but they also don’t respect themselves.
Maybe you’re misreading me, and I’m actually just dumb and kind-hearted.
No matter what someone’s ideas or beliefs are, isn’t it more respectable—both toward others and themselves—to name them clearly, own them, and engage in reflection with solid arguments? Rather than hiding them in cryptic remarks, then dodging the question when they’re simply challenged, and choosing a line of retreat to escape some imagined sneak attack?
Really? Because Belarus has richer colors? The landscapes in Eastern Europe are pretty much the same—the difference is in the types of pine trees. You have a very baroque view of things.
Really? Because Belarus has richer colors? The landscapes in Eastern Europe are pretty much the same—what’s different are the types of pine trees. You have a very dramatic view of things.
To avoid seeing that Brittany is in sharp decline, you’d have to have lived there three or four decades ago, and you’d have to not travel regularly to comparable territorial and cultural entities.
Take Estonia, Slovenia, or Catalonia, for example.
And I’m not even talking about Ireland, where the assets and constraints were particularly similar… only to end up several divisions apart.
I’m not entirely sure who’s really to blame, but in terms of economy and quality of life, there’s a chasm that’s widened.
You find it strange because you’re used to some kind of mythical, romantic narrative about Brittany, but living there is quite another story.
Feelings of downgrading, loss of industry, withdrawal, and giving up on its industrial, productive, and export-driven vocation.
I never said Belarus was colorful. I was just using it as an example in a specific context—I don’t bring it up all the time.
All good, I’ll keep that in mind. Still, I won’t budge—everyone understood that.
I grew up in a world tainted by the consequences of one dogma, and it’s hard to bear seeing it replaced by an even worse one.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
About Brittany, I heard on the radio—I can’t remember the exact date, but it wasn’t long ago—that Brittany would be the most populated region in France by 2050.
And also, a recent survey found that for 7 out of 10 French people, it’s the region where they’d like to live now or in the future. Can you guess why? ???
You might say we’re selling a dream.
Dreamy? I don’t know, but a kind of image and illusion, yes, definitely.
We’re on a travelers’ forum: check out the affordable and convenient flight options available to Breton travelers, and you’ll already see things a little differently 😏.
France’s most populated region? No, that’s impossible.
The reason? I don’t know, I just don’t see it.
Feeling of downgrading, loss of industry, withdrawal, and abandonment of industrial, productive, and export-oriented vocation.
Sorry, but it’s clear you’ve never worked in industry.
You listen to either CNews or guys like Charles Gave too much—they spout nonsense all the time.
For one thing, Brittany isn’t just crêperies in Quimper or galettes from Pont-Aven. It also has major investments, especially on Île Longue, where there’s a nuclear submarine base.
As for industry in France, I’m not making this up—it’s INSEE data: 322,386 companies, 1,544 € billion in turnover, and 368 € billion in added value.
So, the bad faith only goes so far.
About Brittany, I heard on the radio—I can’t remember the exact date, but it wasn’t recent—that Brittany would be the most populated region in France by 2050.
.
What’s happening across France is that the interior is emptying out, and the population is "migrating" toward the coasts.
The same thing happened in the U.S., where people moved to Sun Belt states like Florida or California.
Why Brittany? Because real estate there is still relatively affordable compared to Languedoc-Roussillon or the PACA region.
Sorry, but it’s obvious you’ve never worked in the industry.
You listen to either CNews or guys like Charles Gave too much, who spout nonsense all the time.
For one thing, Brittany isn’t just crêperies in Quimper or galettes from Pont-Aven—it’s also major investments, particularly on Île Longue, where there’s a nuclear submarine base.
I’d rather not comment on what you’re saying; you don’t know who you’re talking to, and it’d almost be funny if it weren’t so off-base. If there’s one thing Bretons would be happy to do without, it’s the Île Longue base, which is seen mostly as a risk with no real benefit.
In Clermont-Ferrand, you're just two hours' drive from LYS Lyon.
So if you want, compare it with Brest and Rennes, or even Nantes.
It's not the same in terms of opening up to the world.
It's not an obsession—this is a travel forum, after all! 🙂
People who never leave Brittany and can't compare might feel fine; I know lots who never go beyond Rennes. But once you've gotten a taste for the world, it's unbearable.
Choosing Brittany was because of climate change—if there’s a heatwave, it starts later than in other regions and ends earlier. That’s the main reason.
As for real estate, it’s very expensive, especially within 20 km of the coast and along the RN 165.
The fact that the airports are out of the way doesn’t affect the desire to live in Brittany at all.
Yeah, real estate is expensive in Brittany near the coast, but inland it costs next to nothing.
You can buy a house for less than 50,000 €.
Sure, there’s often some work to be done though.
The fact that airports are out of the way doesn’t change the desire to live in Brittany at all.
Run a few price simulations, and we’ll talk about it again.
There aren’t actually any real airports—just a shuttle airport with an Air France monopoly for very expensive flights, and seasonal low-cost flights to summer tourist spots like Porto, Marrakech, Agadir...
Yes, yes, there are houses for less than 50,000 €, even under 40,000 €.
Come live here .
They’re mostly bought by working-class English people who live there very roughly, with dogs and horses. Or by Roma or people breaking away from big cities who get subsidies from the towns to stay under the radar.
As for climate change, that’s a bit of a strange explanation; I don’t think it’s very relevant.
Ethnic change is clearly happening faster than climate change. The latter has taken a pause at the moment: it’s not very warm in France.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Ethnic change is clearly faster than climate change. The latter has currently paused: it’s not particularly hot in France.
Now that we’ve clarified our intentions (see messages 32 and 36), I’ll repeat the question you, as the vigilant watcher of VF’s life, good comrade, expansive, and rather affable, seem to be dodging:
Can you be more specific?
In this wonderfully vintage VF-style thread, there are messages crossing paths without ever meeting, slightly condescending compulsive monologues, carefully cultivated postures, a sugary tone that fools no one—or maybe it does—obsessions creeping forward softly without anything to stop them...
Everyone comes as they are, and everyone leaves as they please. And vice versa.
So... what’s there to fear in saying things outright rather than hinting at them?
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"It seems to me that poverty would be less painful in the sun" wrote Aznavour...
Not sure...😕 Who can prove that people in hot countries are happier than others?
What do you think?
Is it better to live in Montpellier than in Lille?
Are the Pygmies happier than the Inuit?
Are Canadians less happy than the people of Louisiana?
Are there more French expats in hot countries?
And your travels? Do you choose your destinations based on the climate?
Do you rejoice when a bit of sunshine appears?
Who’d like to share their best and worst travel memories in a few lines?
For me, it’s watching the TAJ MAHAL at sunrise and getting chased by dogs at the top of a mountain pass in GREECE on the way back from ISTANBUL.
THANKS GUYS
Hi everyone, just this once I’m not posting for a travel story, but to share a thought for Venezuela.
If you didn’t know—since it’s not making headlines—the country was hit by two 7.5-magnitude earthquakes last week. Over 2,200 people have died, more than 50,000 are missing, and some coastal towns have been completely destroyed.
Maybe when the scale of the humanitarian crisis becomes clear, our media will cover it a bit more... especially since earthquakes with this many casualties usually make the front page, but there’s been nothing in France.
So here’s a thought for this country, which, whatever you think of its politics, is a true jewel of South America, both for its landscapes and its people.
hi there
I’d like to invite you to discover my coastal province in central Vietnam: Quang Ngai.
This year, my province has really improved its infrastructure—mountains, countryside, and sea are all authentic here.
No harassers or thieves, and no Russians either.
A local lunch costs around 1 €.
A *** hotel room is about 25 €, and you can find hotels right on My Khe Beach.
We have a specialty: *banh xeo*—10 crepes for just 1.5 €.
You can rent motorbikes to explore the province and maybe visit the many ethnic minorities.
I live here—I’m not selling anything, but I can help if needed (my father-in-law is a traditional Vietnamese doctor and he’s very skilled).
Hi everyone! 😉
I’m Typhaine, 35 years old. Five years ago, I left France for a solo round-the-world trip—no planes, just a van, hitchhiking, cycling, and even a canoe in the Amazon! Today, I work as a naturalist guide in Argentine Patagonia.
Wherever I go, my compass stays the same: observing and photographing wildlife, which I deeply admire and respect.
My project: I’d love to share this experience through a sustainable, authentic, and immersive nature tourism initiative. But to build something meaningful, I need to understand how other nature enthusiasts experience their own adventures.
If you:
Are over 20 years old
Have a true passion for Nature
Have already taken at least one trip lasting more than 3 nights (in your country or abroad) in your life
Promise: I’m not selling anything, this isn’t marketing. Your answers are 100% anonymous and will only help me shape this wild project.
A huge thank you to everyone for your help and kindness! Looking forward to chatting in this thread 😛
(Dear admins, this is purely a collaborative effort for my project study, with no commercial purpose. Thank you so much for your support!)
Photo: Grizzly Bear (Ursus arctos horribilis), female on the left and her cub on the right. Photo taken by me in Alaska, Denali National Park.
It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.
A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question.
They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???
Not even a simple thank you!!!
From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕
Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????
I spent 3 weeks in Bali last summer (+ 3 nights on Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java). So I wanted to see what ChatGPT could suggest for comparison...
Here’s the prompt I gave:
"You’re a local expert guide for Bali.
- Plan a 20-day itinerary for Bali with a side trip to Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java without staying overnight.
- I’m traveling with my wife, and I love visiting historical sites, hiking, relaxing at the beach, snorkeling, and exploring rice terraces...
- For the duration of the stay, I don’t want more than 8 places to sleep, and I’d like to stay at least 2 days at each stop to avoid unpacking too often. Except for the last night, where I’m okay with just one night near the airport.
- I prefer neighborhoods that are walkable and try to avoid typical tourist traps, though I don’t want to miss the must-see spots. So suggest a mix of iconic sites and hidden gems.
- Recommend hotels or guesthouses with a budget of 50 to 100 € per night, including breakfast. Make suggestions in areas popular with travelers, specifying the vibe (I prefer quiet), and consider safety and proximity to attractions.
- For lunch and dinner, suggest two to three restaurants that are well-rated by customers.
- Give me a day-by-day program with details on travel times, visiting times for each point of interest, and recommendations for transportation (taxi, train, bike, etc.).
Estimate the total cost of the trip, including accommodations, food, transportation, and activities, and suggest two tips for saving money in each category.
- Don’t make anything up—be realistic about travel times, take into account the opening dates and hours of sites, and give me the entry fees for places to visit.
- Ask me all the questions until you’re 95% sure you understand what’s being asked. Don’t generate your response until you’ve understood."
The AI asked for a few clarifications:
"Great request—I can build you a really optimized and enjoyable itinerary, but to be 95% sure I hit the mark, I need a few key clarifications (this will really influence the pace, areas, and accommodations)."
In the end, it proposed a program very close to what we actually did.
I’ll skip its accommodation and restaurant suggestions...
Its proposal:
"Ubud (4 nights) => we did 5 nights
Sidemen (2 nights)
Amed (3 nights) => we’d planned 2 nights
Gili Meno (3 nights) => we did Gili between Sidemen and Amed
Munduk (3 nights) => we did 2 nights before Pemuteran
Pemuteran (3 nights) with Ijen => we did 4 nights
Sanur (2 nights + 1 last night) => we chose Jatiluwih instead of Sanur
It suggested "activities" (and accommodations too):
IN UBUD:
- Walk around central Ubud (1–2h)
- Campuhan Ridge Walk
- Tegalalang Rice Terrace
- Tirta Empul
- Gunung Kawi
- Massage / market / slow café
IN SIDEMEN:
- Rice terrace hike (2–3h)
- Cooking class
IN AMED:
- Snorkeling
- Japanese Shipwreck
- Beach + relaxation
- Volcano sunset
ON GILI:
- Snorkeling at Gili Meno Turtle Point, Nest Underwater Statues
IN MUNDUK:
- Jungle & waterfall hike - Munduk Waterfall + Melanting Waterfall
- Loop: 3–4h (perfect for your level)
- Ulun Danu Bratan Temple
- Twin Lakes
IN PEMUTERAN
- Snorkeling: Menjangan Island
For Kawah Ijen, it detailed the day well:
👍 from Pemuteran = best possible option
12 PM: leave hotel (we left at 10 PM)
1 PM: ferry
3 PM: arrival in Java + transfer
11 PM: start ascent
2 AM–6 AM: volcano
Return to Bali around 11 AM–12 PM (we got back at 4 PM)
👍 still very intense, but doable with an agency
💰 ~80–120 €/person all-inclusive
IN SANUR:
- Relaxation
- Quiet beach
- Proximity to airport (30 min)"
I’ve kept the habit of blowing my nose in the sink and then washing my hands—a custom I picked up in India. Sometimes, non-travelers are shocked when they catch me in the act... 🤪
Also, when I run out of toilet paper, it doesn’t bother me—unless I’ve got company over... 🤪
Just got back from walking a friend’s dog (while they’re on vacation), wearing a djellaba and Tibetan boots... 😏😏😏 Oh, for sure, if I’d run into locals, I probably would’ve shocked them? 😏
Anyway, as long as I’m not spitting on the floor at a restaurant or squatting on the side of a highway with a water bottle in hand...
After taking a little trip around the world, I came back a few months ago with an idea in mind.
I mostly do diving, and I love observing animals in their natural habitat without disturbing them.
During the trip, I realized it was quite complicated to know where and when to see certain species.
For example:
where to dive with sharks or manta rays
where you might get a chance to swim with whales
I even discovered thresher sharks during my trip… I didn’t even know this species existed before, even though they’re incredible to see.
We spent a ton of time searching for info all over the place, especially on social media, without ever getting a clear picture.
So I started putting all this together on my own, in the form of a map, to make it easier to visualize where to go depending on the seasons.
I recently put a first version online (it’s called Fauneya).
There are probably mistakes, inconsistencies, or things to improve, and that’s partly why I’m posting here.
I’d really love to know how you all go about planning this kind of trip.
As part of my Master’s thesis, I’m currently conducting a public survey on a topic that concerns all of us when planning a trip: artificial intelligence and the role of human contact in travel planning.
These days, we’re using more and more digital tools to find ideas, compare options, and book trips... but is the role of human advisors still essential? At what moments? And for what types of trips?
The survey is anonymous and takes about 7 minutes.
It’s aimed at anyone who travels (or has traveled) for leisure, whether you plan everything yourself or go through an agency.
While browsing the forum to gather info for my upcoming trip to Thailand, I often see the terms "traveler," "great traveler," and also "tourist"—so what’s the nuance for you?
I've traveled quite a bit in Vietnam over the past few years—from the southern delta to bustling cities and even some small islands—but what really sticks with me is the north, the high mountains.
Up there, there's something different—maybe slower, more raw. The morning markets with ethnic groups, women in traditional clothes, the colors...
The stilt houses, kids following you and laughing for no reason, the terraced rice fields—it almost feels unreal at times, so vast and quiet, yet so human and simple.
You often hear that Sapa has become too touristy, and that's partly true, especially in the center. But as soon as you move a little farther away, everything changes quickly. The landscapes open up, encounters feel more natural, and you rediscover something truly authentic.
I think it's that contrast that struck me—the difference between what you imagine before going and what you actually discover when you take the time.
And you—what memory do you hold onto from Vietnam? A particular place that touched you more than others?
Hello,
We’re finalizing the plans for our upcoming trip to China in May 2025. The second-to-last stop will be in Zhangjiajie, where we’ve planned to stay for 2 full days before heading to Shanghai.
We’re traveling solo using local transport and have arranged to stay in the city of Zhangjiajie.
We’ve seen that there’s a lot to see:
Tianmen Mountain, the Grand Canyon and the glass bridge, Zhangjiajie National Park, and that the sites are quite far apart with fairly expensive entry fees.
We’re thinking of dedicating one day to the national park and the Grand Canyon (glass bridge) and one day to Tianmen Mountain.
But we’re not sure if this plan is realistic—any thoughts would be much appreciated!
I should be serving a warming drink to the participants in the discussion about gardens and parks that provide us with beautiful photos, I could mention the delicious buttery scent wafting from bakeries in the thread about returning to France, but my heart, its powerful pulse that nourishes my entire being, is elsewhere.
Dasht-e Lut, Yazd, Esfahan, Bam, Kerman, Qeshm, Hormuz—a melody, a prayer at the heart of desire.
A dream, an unattainable fantasy? No. Not anymore.
A very serious Italian travel agency is organizing this trip for 6 people this winter. I’m signed up, I’m going, I’m living. Maybe.
"But you’re completely crazy!!!!"
I know... I know that every civilization, every society has a vital need to create scapegoats to define and justify itself, pathetically. And Iran is one of them, top of the list. I laugh or sigh, and it doesn’t bother me.
But that unchanging red, deep red and garnet, so beautiful in itself, in all the Western chancelleries repeats, whispers, shouts: don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, you’re putting yourself in danger and we can’t do anything for you. You’ll be turned into mere bargaining chips, into arguments for endless negotiations. Fear must be instilled, its power absolutely preserved, no concessions made to the enemy. The information (how many French hostages, real or fake, compared to the number of travelers?) is always lacking.
Traveling becomes a merciless confrontation between desire, the vital pulse, and anxiety, its ghosts.
Hi everyone, here’s our itinerary. Arriving on the evening of December 13th. Departing on January 7th.
Thanks in advance for your tips and valuable feedback.
Manila – 1 night
Coron – 4 nights
Coron to El Nido cruise – 2 nights
El Nido – 4 nights
Port Barton – 5 nights
Flight from Puerto Princesa to Vigan
Vigan – 2 nights
Sagada – 2 nights
Banaue – 2 nights
Bagabag – 1 night
Manila – 1 night
I’ve only booked the flight to Manila and the Manila/Coron flight so far. Is it possible to book boat trips, accommodations, and the Puerto Princesa flight last-minute?
Really disappointed with Costa Rica! Pura vida? The scam of the century!
(Costa Rica pure emptiness).
The country where animals are free and people are in cages.
3 weeks in December in this country and never again. Imagine the trailer of a movie that seems interesting, and when you go see it, you realize it’s a flop and the best moments were in the trailer.
Well, that’s exactly how we felt with Costa Rica pure emptiness.
My wife and I have traveled quite a bit and didn’t expect to be so wrong about a place.
On the main routes, we visited:
San José
Alajuela
Limón, Cahuita, Puerto Viejo, Manzanillo (Caribbean side)
Jaco, Quepos, Manuel Antonio (Pacific side)
And a few short stops in intermediate towns.
Our dissatisfaction grew gradually like this:
When we arrived at the hotel, the taxi dropped us off on a small street in front of a white metal gate with ground-floor windows barred. We looked at it skeptically, but the sign matched.
He approached the gate, rang the bell, the buzzer sounded, and the door opened slightly. The hotel wasn’t bad for the price, a 10-minute walk from downtown, but with a "Fleury-Mérogis" vibe guaranteed.
So far, so good.
After showering and regaining our bearings, we headed downtown.
What started to unsettle us on the way was seeing houses with bars on the ground-floor windows and even on the second floor.
At first, we thought the hotel’s neighborhood wasn’t great.
Downtown San José:
It’s a generic city, not very exotic, with a pedestrian street and a small mercado where you can eat local food without frills. Very few tourists—if any—which let you blend in with the locals. We had lunch and struggled to make ourselves understood because, aside from one or two shops, English wasn’t spoken.
On the way back to the hotel, we took a different route, and while chatting and strolling, my wife pointed out a beautiful two-story white house completely barricaded like Fort Knox.
From that moment, we started noticing the facades of houses and buildings, and wow, it was creepy—most looked like prisons, some even with barbed wire.
Though put off, we told ourselves it was probably a big-city thing and the rest of the country couldn’t be like this.
So far, so good.
We relaxed at the hotel and had a drink at the bar. Night falls early, around 5:30 PM. By 7:30 PM, we headed back downtown for dinner. A bit unsettling for a capital—downtown was almost deserted, and aside from fast-food chains, very few restaurants were open, with hardly anyone on the streets.
Bars with security guards out front.
I won’t say we felt unsafe that night, but once it got dark, we realized the bars on the windows weren’t for nothing. First day in, and our impression was already mixed.
The next day, we explored the city and surroundings, and our feelings didn’t change.
So far, so good.
Off to Cahuita by bus—4 hours of travel.
The landscapes are very green but quickly become monotonous. The road runs alongside the forest and passes through a few towns and villages, and even in the countryside, there were just as many prison-like houses.
The bus dropped us off at Cahuita’s terminal station—only four of us got off. It’s a village, or rather, a small town. Cahuita is basically one straight road and a perpendicular one, and honestly, doubt started to creep in.
A few restaurants that add 13% tax and 10% service charge—so 23% extra. We dropped our stuff at the hotel and went to explore. In 20 minutes, we’d seen it all. We had lunch and planned to check out the famous park.
Entry is by donation—well, the "entry" is a joke. There’s a path along the forest by the sea, and that’s it.
Nothing’s going right anymore.
We thought it was a total scam, but since we hadn’t gone far, we decided to come back the next day to explore further.
We returned to the hotel, relaxed, and around 8:00 PM, we went out for dinner. Only two restaurants were open, and the streets were deserted.
Creepy!
The next day, we explored the so-called park more thoroughly and really got it.
A path along the forest by the sea—2 hours there and 2 hours back, where you see animals that feel like showing their faces.
A total joke—"all that for this?"
The beach was full of wood debris and coconut husks. We wondered if the photos online were edited because the sea, very rough, wasn’t the azure blue we’d seen in pictures.
But calling this a park is a joke—it’s like a new concept.
When we thought about the reviews online, we started to suspect that professionals with interests in the country were monitoring and countering any negative feedback that could harm their business.
Too bad we didn’t check the negative reviews beforehand—we did while we were there, and it helped. We wondered if we’d become too demanding after all our travels, but no—when something’s bad, it’s bad.
Manuel Antonio’s park is even more ridiculous—there’s a short path along the sea for about 500 meters, and then nothing. You have to climb through mud and hack your way through the forest. We ended up barefoot because the mud was up to our calves. All that to see a raccoon and a few parrots flying overhead.
We didn’t expect Noah’s Ark, but we’ve seen more animals in Bali, Mexico, and Thailand while visiting temples or just walking around than in these so-called parks!
Puerto Viejo, not far from Cahuita and supposedly livelier—well, it couldn’t be worse!
According to Lonely Planet, it had a Caribbean vibe and wild nights, but maybe that was a long time ago. The good reggae music playing everywhere isn’t enough.
In the evening, Puerto Viejo was a bit livelier than Cahuita, but that’s not saying much. Very few tourists—if any—no night market, just two or three shops open selling $20 T-shirts. Same vibe as San José.
No big deal—we enjoyed the beach and the sun, which was reliable.
Our itinerary was supposed to include Tortuguero Park, but after talking to other travelers who’d just been, we changed our minds, knowing we’d be visiting Manuel Antonio Park on the Pacific side.
To get back to the Pacific side, you have to take the bus and go through San José again—5 hours this time—then switch bus terminals and another 4.5 hours to Quepos.
A stopover town to get to Manuel Antonio’s beach and park!
A town just like the others we’d seen—deserted as soon as the sun sets, and not exactly bustling during the day either. (Where are all the tourists?)
Still as many bars on the windows and that feeling of being in the wrong place.
7 km later: Manuel Antonio beach and park.
The beach is very beautiful and quite large, but don’t expect turquoise blue water—the waves stir up the sand, giving the water a brownish color.
Along the beach, shops and restaurants for about 300 meters, and then nothing. At night, after sunset, the town shuts down too.
Manuel Antonio Park is highly praised for its wildlife, so we were eager to see it. When you express dissatisfaction with Cahuita or Manzanillo parks, the response is always, "But you should’ve gone to Monteverde or Manuel Antonio!" No matter what you do or say, they’ll tell you, "You should’ve gone there or here."
Back to our famous park—entry was about $16, and contrary to what we’d heard, it wasn’t crowded!
Guides at the entrance with spotting scopes offered their services for about $30.
The park: a mix of boardwalk and dirt paths through the forest, sometimes running alongside beautiful coves and beaches.
As soon as we entered, a crowd was taking photos of a deer eating leaves.
A little further on, a guide with a group of five stopped. The guide raised his arm and set up his spotting scope! He showed them, about 100 meters away, a hummingbird perched on a branch. Some, looking through the scope, exclaimed, "Oh my God! Amazing! Incredible!"
For a moment, we thought they’d discovered a unicorn or were in Jurassic Park and had just crossed paths with a T-Rex!
The concept is comical—looking at a bird or another animal through a spotting scope because it’s too far away. Isn’t that what TV is for?
For our part, we saw monkeys, ants, an armadillo, an iguana, and the backside of a sloth climbing a tree. Amazing, incredible!
We stayed a few days in Manuel Antonio to enjoy the beach, changing hotels often because prices varied wildly from one day to the next for shameful services. On top of that, they’d quote a price in dollars and convert it at their discretion—thieves!
Alajuela, a city near the airport, has a two-story mall and a local market downtown! No interest except its proximity to the airport.
What we liked:
The climate and, in hindsight, San José—the most authentic city we visited.
What we didn’t like, in addition to what we’ve already mentioned:
Costa Ricans aren’t very friendly or communicative. English is barely spoken, not even by doctors at Quepos Hospital, where my wife ended up with food poisoning (thanks, Google Translate). The widespread obesity among Costa Ricans, who eat like Americans. The insecurity. The eco-hipsters who leave their $150 lodges in minivans with guides to visit parks and other sites, then return to barricade themselves in their fortresses at nightfall (oh my God, amazing, incredible). The blue signs at the entrance of towns that accept this payment method: "We accept American Express." Parking lots that become paid just because a guy is watching your car. Prices displayed in dollars. The cost of living (hotels, restaurants, taxes). Landscapes that are too green and not flowery enough. Beaches—nothing exceptional. Pollution in cities where big American trucks rule. Sewage dumped directly into the sea. Aside from the jungle, there’s nothing to visit—no ruins, monuments, or anything worth seeing.
In short, my wife and I think the hype about this supposedly eco-friendly country is overrated. It’s just the trendy destination of the moment. There are much better, cheaper, and more authentic places.
In hindsight, we keep the good memories and our beautiful photos, but if we had to do it over...
Before signing off, a little message to those who don’t like hearing opinions different from theirs:
Well, some things aren’t up for debate. And to those who’d have us believe that in 3 weeks, we don’t have the right to criticize a country or express our feelings—how can you praise it in so little time? What a scam. Costa Rica is a money pit. Pura vida? Pure cosmic emptiness.
If you like spending your evenings barricaded in your cozy hotel after dark, this country is for you.
For everyone else: run!
Hello,
Since the war between Russia and Ukraine, nothing is simple anymore for traveling to Belarus due to sanctions.
No more direct flights from the EU to Minsk.
Driving is a huge hassle, especially crossing through Poland at the only open border in Brest—you can wait 2, 3, or even 4 days just to get through by car.
The least painful driving option is to come via Lithuania and cross at the only open border, with a minimum wait time of 8 hours, sometimes up to 20 hours or more!!
Controls are very strict and annoying on both the Lithuanian and Belarusian sides. Avoid bringing alcohol, food, or cigarettes—everything will end up in the trash, especially when leaving Belarus for Vilnius, where the Lithuanians are tough, even with EU citizens.
The joy I once knew when visiting my wife in Minsk is sadly over—it’s now a real ordeal.
The fastest solution is to fly. My wife travels to France by taking a bus to Kaunas in Lithuania, where you can catch a flight (though not daily) to Paris Beauvais or Charleroi in Belgium with Ryanair, for example.
For the return trip, it’s the same: a flight to Kaunas and then a direct bus from the airport to Minsk.
The bus crossing is quicker than driving—the 250 km journey, including border checks, takes about 6 to 8 hours for buses leaving Lithuania around midnight, but controls are still strict at the border.
The biggest challenge is finding flight schedules that align with the bus routes between the two countries, given the unpredictable border crossing times.
Now, my wife travels via Charleroi in Belgium (near Brussels), and you can take a train to Paris. Alternatively, you can fly into Beauvais and take a bus to Paris (Porte Maillot).
For those driving, note that EU insurance and assistance policies no longer work in Belarus or Russia. You’ll need to get local insurance, usually limited to third-party liability (I don’t think full coverage exists?), as well as mandatory medical insurance. This is available at the border.
You now have to pay highway tolls—no more BELTOLL boxes. Instead, you pay a flat fee for the duration of your stay. Stop at the first gas station after crossing from Lithuania to fill up on fuel and cigarettes.
From what I know, Lithuania bans carrying more than 60 € in cash, but there’s no limit for USD (though it’s capped at $10,000??).
With a Visa card, you can now withdraw 1,000 rubles per week (about 270 €)—two months ago, it was only 500 rubles!!
For now, you can still pay by card in shops and gas stations.
However, major retailers like KORONA (which may be Russian-owned??) no longer accept foreign Visa cards.
Unfortunately, the additional sanctions announced by the U.S. on August 5, 2025, against Russia—and possibly Belarus—aren’t promising for the future.
After 20 years of visiting Belarus, I’m truly saddened to see the joy of living in this country with my wonderful wife turn into such a bleak situation, all because of human folly.
Hi everyone!
I’m putting together our travel itinerary for Veneto at the end of April. And the more I look and research potential sites to visit, the more I find!
We’ll only be there for a week—my family and I—including 3 days in Venice. So we have to make some choices...
I plan to rent a car when we arrive in Venice and head straight to Bergamo, which would be our first stop. We’d leave the car at the airport when we return to Venice so we can explore the city at our leisure.
What do you think:
1 night in Bergamo (a 2h15 drive from Venice airport),
1 night in Garda,
1 night in Verona,
1 in Padua, and
3 in Venice—would that be doable?
Thanks in advance for your tips and experiences! :)
Now that the curtain has fallen on the past year, it’s time to see what’s happening around here.
It seems pretty quiet, but I’ll read more in detail later.
First, I need to tell you all an anecdote.
My eldest little girl, in her third year of law school, was really scared she wouldn’t pass the year.
I told her:
“Trust yourself, you’ve worked so hard, and worst case, if you fail, you’ll just redo the year.”
“But I don’t think I’ll make it—they changed the rules, and if I mess up even one unit, I have to start all over.”
I knew her grades weren’t exactly stellar, and with what I was about to say, I wasn’t taking much of a risk.
“Here’s the deal, sweetheart: if you pass, I promise I’ll take you to India, just the two of us.”
I have to admit, India is a country I’ve talked about so much to all my grandchildren that in their minds, it’s become a magical, mythical place (hmm).
July had barely begun when my phone rang, her name flashing on the screen.
“Mamido, I did it!”
My promise came rushing back—oh no, oh no, oh no!
“Congratulations, sweetheart!”
A little shyly, she said:
“Is the India trip still on?”
And me, replying:
“Of course it is!”
And that’s that—a promise is a promise, or you risk losing that precious trust that keeps hearts warm and at peace.
We’re leaving in February. Only 8 days—yikes, the carbon footprint!
But we can’t miss her tutorials, or she’ll be kicked out.
Personally, that works just fine for me.
Going to India has become a challenge for me. It’s far, it’s exhausting, I sweat, I hate mosquitoes, the spices bother my mouth when I used to love them. There’s noise all the time—at night, the dogs bark nonstop, and we almost get run over. I’ll get lost in the streets because my sense of direction has vanished. I don’t like rice anymore. All that chaos and those cultural differences that once enchanted me now just overwhelm me.
But I promised.
The upside—and it’s a big one—Raman, the same driver I’ve had forever, will be at the airport with a sign with our names. We’ll stop at the same little shop for chai (or tea, plain and simple) with that aroma that intoxicates me, halfway through the trip.
It’ll be a tiny trip—staying with friends, I’ll show her a few places I love: Chidambaram, Mamallapuram, and the clinic where I worked. Then we’ll head back.
My little girl will go home to her parents.
As for me, I’ll leave right away for our Scottish island with Homme for our chilly winter.
How can you love a country so much you want to live there, then suddenly reject it, no longer able to appreciate what once made it special?
That’s the mystery of love, I guess.
I’ve visited the U.S. four times myself, including two long road trips. The last one was just this past August...
I won’t be going back. I already felt guilty last August, but recent policies have finally convinced me: the humiliation of Zelensky, authoritarian excesses, Gestapo-like methods for detaining people of foreign origin, the murder of innocent people (a mother shot dead), corruption, insane "tariffs," skyrocketing healthcare costs for Americans, the abduction of foreign figures to secure oil, the requirement to disclose social media accounts, and now... threats and blackmail to forcibly take Greenland—a region that belongs to Denmark and thus the European Union!
The reality is that simply posting this could get me denied entry to the U.S.!
In this context, I just can’t keep spending money there. I loved my trips, but there are so many other countries with stunning landscapes to explore.
So I get why you’d want to travel there. I did, and I loved it. But once a country no longer respects any of the values that made us love it, why go?
How can we even consider traveling to a country that threatens to take one of our territories by force?
Hello everyone,
Controversial topic? Not necessarily—maybe just a reflection on a world to come.
I spent the last 15 days of August on a cruise in Greenland, from Kangerlussuaq to Tasiilaq.
I was utterly amazed by this unique world of rock and ice, the little houses in every color, a simple life that’s also complicated by isolation and climate, among other things...
I carry in my heart the kindness of the people I met, the raw and gentle majesty of the icebergs, the colors of the sky...
So, I can’t even imagine a massive presence of raw material prospectors, heavy machinery requiring roads to be built—if that’s even possible—changing their way of life... putting sled dogs out to pasture!
Do fast food and Greenland’s northern lights really mix?
I wouldn’t trade my memories for an ESTA!
All opinions are respectable, which is why this isn’t a controversy—but I’m sorry, I have a soft spot for *my* Greenland.
We’re a couple aged 58 and 63. We’ve just returned from a wonderful trip to South India in Tamil Nadu and a few days in Kerala. We traveled with a local French-speaking guide and his friend, the driver. They both live in Pondicherry. We spent 3 weeks with them in the most authentic way!
We covered just over 2,500 km and visited not only temples but also archaeological sites, museums, and small artisanal businesses making tiles, tea, sculptures, bronze, and silk spinning. We were lucky enough to visit a public school, attend a wedding, and even a death announcement in a small countryside village. We were fully immersed in the culture, food, noise, and colors—it was incredible!
The hotels and guesthouses we chose were very clean and mostly quiet. We’re returning from India with amazing discoveries!
We’re happy to share more info if you’d like!
M-Claire and Jean
This catchy and somewhat mysterious title comes from several questions I’ve been asking myself.
VF has been back open for a reasonable number of weeks and months now.
The number of visitors overall matches past averages, but the number of members online in the last 24 hours seems relatively lower than what we used to see.
Yet, to my surprise, I’m seeing fewer travel journals, way fewer messages, and way fewer questions.
I don’t see many new registered users online, and I notice a number of members who are logged in but either aren’t participating or have stopped participating.
Something’s not adding up for me because, in my opinion, VF is still appealing, and I don’t see which other sites could really compete.
Was there a real break between pre- and post-Covid?
Does it just take more time for some people to discover the site or learn that it’s active again?
Do people now prefer quick consumption on sites like FB or others I’m not familiar with?
Where have the site’s old-timers gone, and what are they doing with their time now?
What’s really going on here?
This isn’t exactly a traveler’s question... I’d like to know who handles the technical side of this forum?
I run a similar forum on a different topic (unrecognized children), and we’re dealing with a few technical issues that are slowly killing our forum... so I’d have one or two questions to ask 😊.
Also, I was wondering who created this forum... who the administrators or moderators are, etc.
I think this forum is great. Much better than Facebook, which I’ve been using since it shut down (so I’m happy to see it’s working again...)
A few years ago, I went with a group of friends to lend a hand at a small rural school near Thiès, Senegal.
It was a relaxed but hardworking atmosphere—hands in the mortar, laughter, exchanges, and everything that a COOPERATION project can bring.
Today, the little project is flying on its own.
Wanting to explore Senegal’s riches, we set off for some tourism in the Siné Saloum. One girl in our group fell ill (a malaria attack), and we decided to take her to see a doctor at a large tourist complex nearby. Despite her condition, we had to "show our credentials" (if I may say so) just to get in. She was treated and has been fine since.
This "stop" at a Club Med-style resort with a Teutonic twist—resembling Le Grau-du-Roi but fancier—was a horror show for us: pools, massive artificial basins dyed blue, pink, or green (!!!!), animators shouting around wet T-shirt contests or coconut tree climbing, and sunburned (or sun-pinked) *toubabs*.
The entire hotel was surrounded by a huge wall, behind which a small souvenir-seller slum had sprung up, worthy of Dakar’s outer neighborhoods.
On leaving, we saw a minibus of guests returning from an "excursion," loaded with masks, fabrics, and djembés—African souvenirs?
Maybe those will be *theirs*?
What impression did the kids clustered at the hotel gates get?
What about the Black servers in "traditional African costumes," serving cocktails and ice cream nonstop?
For me, who experienced Africa very young and in the bush, this remains a haunting image.
On VF, this kind of vacation doesn’t seem to be the norm among users, and that’s exactly why I signed up.
Have you ever experienced this kind of interstellar travel?
Do you understand the Martians?
Are their motivations peaceful?
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