Vast, diverse, and multifaceted China! During a recent journey across part of this fascinating country, I enthusiastically discovered so many aspects of it.
But such variety seems hard to condense into a single story. So, for this travel journal, I’ve focused on two main facets of China.
First, a modern and urban China—the sprawling city of Shanghai—and then, in a second part, a China that’s the complete opposite: a rural and more traditional side explored around Yangshuo, where nature is absolutely stunning.
Ready for a tour of China, city first, then countryside?
Travel stories, descriptions, and impressions are on the program, with plenty of room for photos.
Enjoy the journey and happy reading!
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Urban China: Shanghai
As soon as you explore the city, it’s clear: the Chinese wanted to turn Shanghai—once a small fishing village—into a showcase of a modern, powerful, and forward-looking China.
The megacity is immense, with around 24 million people bustling through its avenues or stuck in monstrous traffic jams at the foot of some of the world’s tallest skyscrapers. Towers so high they almost touch the sky—well, almost. But this gigantism is just one side of this southern metropolis in the Middle Kingdom.
Away from the towers and business districts, you discover another side of Shanghai—more traditional and, some would say, more human.
This is where my travel story begins: on a quiet morning among smiling, relaxed locals.
We’re in one of the city’s parks, specifically Fuxing Park.
As everyone knows, the Chinese love practicing Tai Chi Chuan, in groups or solo, so it’s no surprise to see so many here, moving slowly and precisely through their sequences.
Here’s a first group, their movements and postures perfectly coordinated.
In another alley, a lone practitioner is deep in concentration, executing his movements with focus. I watch him for a few moments, discreetly and from a distance, so as not to disturb him.
To his right, a woman in bright red pants keeps walking, almost as if she’s marching in place. A strange ballet: a series of steps forward, then backward, and so on...
Nearby, this elegant athlete (or artist) performs Tai Chi with a sword—almost like a choreography, her movements resembling a true sword dance.
Further on, the atmosphere is more relaxed and melodic. People are playing music and dancing joyfully, like this woman with her colorful, original hairstyle, all smiles with maracas in hand. You almost want to clap along—her energy is so contagious!
The mood is lighthearted among this group of retirees. Their choir alternates between patriotic hymns and lighter songs.
Someone must have told them some French people were watching, because suddenly they start singing an old French tune: « Vive le vent, vive le vent d’hiver... » And the cheerful choir leader invites us to sing along—all together! The result was a fun cacophony: us in French, them in Chinese. But it was so charming!
These Chinese locals definitely passed on their good mood. It’s a joy to see all these retirees—you can imagine them leaving their small apartments to get some fresh air and meet up in the park for these morning activities.
But let’s not kid ourselves: while they seem so happy and content with those big smiles, most of them probably didn’t have an easy life. Food shortages, draconian regulations, propaganda, the one-child policy—just to name a few! No, what many endured in their daily lives didn’t always give them reason to smile so brightly. But now, they’re making the most of it, and as I wrote earlier, it’s wonderful to see them like this.
Encouraged by these shared moments, I decide to keep going. Without hesitation, I join a Tai Chi session. I tried my best to follow the movements of my neighbors practicing this traditional exercise, but I’ll admit—it wasn’t easy!
This artist, especially attentive, rewards us with a calligraphed phrase about France. A lover of Chinese calligraphy, he writes these sinograms in ancient characters directly on the ground. Is it writing or drawing? It’s hard to say—the result is so aesthetic. An ephemeral phrase, written in water that slowly fades as it dries, before disappearing entirely.
As we walk, we approach one of the park’s exits—so beautifully flowered. These flowerbeds and their blooms hint at the name of this charming place: Parc des Roses—and it’s even written in French!
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We’re now in the former French Concession of Shanghai, which explains the French inscriptions.
The era of foreign concessions in Shanghai is an old story, dating back to the 1840s—a time when China opened its market to international trade.
Several nations, including European ones, established trading posts in the city. There were British, American, Japanese, Russian, Italian, German, and French communities.
This part of Shanghai was under French administration for a time, starting in 1846.
Some buildings in the area still bear witness to that time, like these ones, with bikes and scooters passing by.
The architecture popular at the time blended European influences with the style of Shanghai’s elegant residences: stone arches above entrances, brick walls, and pleasant inner courtyards. Large homes often divided into several apartments today.
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Traditional Chinese architecture shines in all its splendor at this tea house.
With pagoda-style roofs—corners turned up toward the sky—refined colors and decorations, and a small corner tower on the right, this Huxinting Pavilion dates back to 1784. It was built in the middle of a pond, offering beautiful reflections. A truly charming spot where you can savor the subtle flavors of Oriental teas in the interior rooms.
Just steps from this picturesque spot, don’t miss the Yuyuan Pavilions and Garden.
The whole complex is stunning and gives a glimpse of imperial-era homes and parks from the Ming Dynasty.
Pass through the entrance gate to enter this opulent property, well protected by a high surrounding wall. On one of them, a dragon sculpture sprawled at full length—about 7 meters—is impressive. The symbol represents power but also happiness.
Created in 1577 by the Pan family, wealthy dignitaries of the time, the visit takes you from pavilions with poetic names like the Pavilion of Three Ears to the Pavilion of Spring’s Announcement. Charming!
The interiors are decorated with woodwork from walls to ceilings, where beautiful Asian lanterns hang.
But the real charm is outside. These shaded gardens, rustling with bamboo, are adorned with several ponds surrounded by impressive rock formations. A world that recreates (in miniature) the mountain and water landscapes of rural China.
This historic Yuyuan Garden, in the heart of the city, took about 18 years to design and build (pavilions and gardens).
Its current appearance is the result of a faithful renovation—much needed, because in 1942, during the so-called Opium War, British officers made it one of their residences. It was partly destroyed by bombings, and later, French troops ransacked it after an attack on their concession.
The site is still under construction—maintenance and renovation—with scaffolding as proof. The garden’s enclosure was set to close for work the day after our visit (for a few weeks, until the end of October 2019). That’s probably why crowds of visitors were rushing in, making the atmosphere a bit less peaceful than this beautiful architectural ensemble might suggest.
For the photos, I had to be a bit clever, avoiding the crowds to give an impression of tranquility—this historic place deserves it.
The area around Yu Garden is well worth wandering through—it was actually built for that purpose: to wow visitors with a style that recreates old-world China.
You have to admit, it’s pretty successful with this traditional architecture. Streets where you stroll with your head in the air, admiring the tangle of rooftops, lanterns, and all that gilding.
The other goal of this “open-air museum” style was also to keep tourists around to sell them all kinds of Chinese trinkets, from cheap souvenirs to art objects.
You’ll find plenty of food stalls, bars for tea or coffee, and a few art galleries, along with other handicrafts like fans, chopsticks, calligraphy, and paintings…
This area is sometimes called the Market or even the Yu Garden Bazaar, a name that perfectly fits the vibe you get wandering through these alleys and squares.
Our stroll brings us back to our starting point, the beautiful Huxinting Tea House, which we’d already seen when we arrived.
But from this angle, between two pavilions, the gleaming skyscraper in the background really stands out—you can see them from everywhere in Shanghai! You’ve got to admit, the Shanghai Tower and its 632 meters can’t exactly go unnoticed!
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Futuristic Shanghai, with its towers defying gravity and its skyline that’s become emblematic of a China resolutely turned toward the future, is our next stop.
From the left bank of the Huangpu River, the postcard view is truly stunning, especially at this late afternoon hour with the sun’s rays perfectly in place. We’re lucky—it’s the ideal time for sightseeing and taking photos.
What a panorama! Historic monuments and old stones certainly have their charm, but these futuristic buildings in the business and financial district of Pudong, on the opposite bank, are well worth admiring.
From these docks, they’re far enough away that we tiny humans don’t feel too overwhelmed by their sheer size.
Varying in height and especially in architecture, there’s one tower that seems to inspire this artist.
The Oriental Pearl Tower rises 468 meters into the sky, topped with TV transmitters. With its three “oriental pearls”—spheres that shine like rubies—some compare it to a giant cup-and-ball toy.
Our talented painter has set up her easel on the promenade and is creating a unique version of this tower. A piece that catches the eye of passersby and my camera lens.
In the skyline photo, on the right, the Shanghai Tower towers over all the other buildings, effortlessly surpassing them with its 128 floors and 632 meters. It’s currently Shanghai’s crowning jewel, with its height and avant-garde spiral architecture (designed by Gensler, inaugurated in Feb. 2015). It has the world’s highest observation deck on the 118th floor, where the view is supposedly exceptional… unless there’s haze, which is often the case in this region.
The Shanghai Tower houses offices, hotels… and nine indoor gardens. Its glass surface sparkles brilliantly (and then some!).
As for that leaning effect, it’s a distortion caused by my wide-angle lens—you could correct the vertical lines with editing software, but I think it adds a dynamic touch. Though, that’s debatable.
In this closer shot, the top of the Shanghai Tower is out of frame—it’s just that tall! But it’s also to better see the other skyscrapers, like the “Bottle Opener.”
A nickname given to the Shanghai World Financial Center (2008). At 474 meters, its arch resembles a giant bottle opener, with a 55-meter-long glass-floored observation deck at the base of the arch. Guaranteed vertigo!
More modest—well, relatively speaking—on the left of the Bottle Opener stands the Jin Mao Tower (383 meters, 1998). The Tower of Prosperity, with its stepped summit. Did you know it has no fewer than 130 elevators to reach its 88 floors? The building houses one of the city’s most prestigious 5-star hotels and restaurants.
And to think that on this Pudong shore, just forty years ago, no skyscrapers stood! The skyline was flat, with simple homes before these towers shot up like mushrooms—or rather, as the locals say, like bamboo! And it’s not over yet…
Captivated by this exceptional panorama, we initially overlook the view of the Huangpu River flowing through Shanghai—one of the last tributaries of the famous Yangtze before it empties into the East China Sea.
Yet this perspective is also worth a look. As you can see, photography enthusiasts are out in force along this wide waterway, where cargo ships, container vessels, and sightseeing boats cross paths.
And if you turn around, here’s the view of the docks you can see from the other side.
We’re here on the famous Bund, this massive avenue/promenade along the river. You can admire the exceptional view of the skyline and the river… but there’s still so much more to discover.
The Bund is steeped in history—it’s emblematic of Shanghai’s era of foreign concessions.
At that time, the district was the nerve center of commerce, trade, and finance in a city where business was booming—well, for some, at least.
Most of the buildings lining the avenue are fascinating examples of the architecture from those particularly prosperous years.
However, at this time of day, all the facades are in shadow.
It was to be expected—it’s hard to have perfect lighting on both Pudong’s skyline and the Bund’s historic buildings at the same time.
In the center of the photo, the clock tower of one of the Bund’s most important buildings: the Customs House (1927) with its Big Ching. Any resemblance to another famous European Big clock is, of course, no coincidence!
Among the row of facades on the left, you’ll notice the green roof with red trim of the Fairmont Peace Hotel (Art Deco style, 1929), a luxury palace where all the VIPs had to stay when passing through Shanghai.
Next to it, the square tower dates from 1942—it’s the headquarters of the Bank of China. Its style is more massive, less elegant, and it’s even overshadowed by its neighbor, which is one meter taller.
And the crowned tower on the left? That’s the Bund Center, at 198 meters tall. Its top reminds me of a crown, but most people compare it to a fruit—of course, you’ve recognized a pineapple!
If the style of these imposing facades, which don’t look Chinese at all, made you doubt the location… rest assured, we’re definitely in China, as the number of red flags flying atop these buildings proves.
Across from the elegant Hong Kong & Shanghai Bank building (1923), you’ll come across an imposing metal sculpture. A powerful bull with horns that would make any bullfighter pale, sporting a thick snout… like a jab at the Americans!
This statue reminds you of New York’s—no surprise, it was made by the same artist, Arturo Di Modica.
Now it’s competing with its U.S. counterpart, quite the symbol as these two countries sharpen their strategies to dominate the global economy!
One last detail: Shanghai’s charging bull has a patina leaning toward red—a red of anger, determination, or perhaps a nod to the Chinese Communist Party?
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We’ll revisit the famous Bund, but this time with a very dense crowd… in a painting. A beautiful artwork with this elevated perspective and a stunning color palette. This piece is displayed in one of the art galleries at M50.
M50?
A cultural site in Shanghai set up in the old warehouses of a disused textile mill. A space dedicated to contemporary art: paintings, sculptures, ceramics, and other art objects… photography is also featured, including a temporary exhibition by Chinese photographer Li Zhi. An interesting series of black-and-white shots.
You can imagine I stopped to appreciate this photographic work focused on mountain landscapes in the country’s interior. Frozen panoramas and scenes of daily life in these isolated regions.
Here, in stark contrast, an astonishing icy peak… like an introduction to the karst landforms of the Yangshuo region, where we’ll be heading next (second part of the travel story). Though in Guangxi, in southern China, the climate is warmer—no snow or ice there!
Now we’re changing neighborhoods and vibes, which means crossing part of the city.
We pass by buildings in wildly varied styles, take avenues, cross intersections, stop at traffic lights, and drive on elevated ring roads—just follow the red arrow.
In the end, what took the most time wasn’t the distance covered but the wait in Shanghai’s inevitable traffic jams... stuck between scooters, cars, buses, and taxis.
And yet, not all of the city’s roughly 24 million residents own a car like we do back home, where it’s almost become the norm!
So we patiently endure, watching the sides of one of the so-called expressways. What do we see?
Buildings and more buildings, packed almost side by side, often blocking the horizon.
And on the glass surfaces of the buildings, reflections of... even more high-rise facades! To brighten the view, these red flags add a pop of color with their vivid hue.
A gap between the buildings appears, and the traffic jam stops us right there. It gives us plenty of time to observe this cluster of old Shanghai homes.
A tangle of small houses squeezed between narrow alleys and tiny courtyards. All around, it’s a forest—not of trees, but of towering buildings that loom over the houses, making the neighborhood feel suffocated.
A neighborhood from another era, much like many others in this city, destined to disappear... developers are ready. Against traditional housing, high-rises always have the final say, and a way of life is gradually fading away. Sure, the new apartments will be more comfortable and help house more Shanghai residents.
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In the heart of the city, prominently placed on the vast People’s Square near the City Hall and Opera House, stands a building with all-rounded architecture. A true contrast to the surrounding skyscrapers and their towering vertical lines. Horizontality and curves define this grand Shanghai Museum, built in 1996.
Some Shanghai locals are apparently skeptical of its architectural lines and jokingly call it "the basket!"
Still, the collections inside are incredibly rich, featuring millennia-old works across many fields of Chinese art: paintings, calligraphy, coins, furniture, ceramics, sculptures, bronzes... all displayed in a pleasant way. The works are well-lit and spaced out, making them stand out beautifully.
I’ll just mention three examples from all these art pieces.
A bronze wine cup shaped like an ox, dating back to the early 6th century BCE.
Then there’s this exquisite Chinese vase (Yongzheng Reign – A.D. 1723-1735 - Qing) decorated with peaches, a symbol of longevity, and bats, a sign of happiness. Though I know you can’t really see the bats in my photo.
The Buddha collection is extensive, like this one carved from wood (Head of Kasyapa - Tang - A.D. 618-907).
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We leave the museum but stay in the company of Buddha statues, including perhaps the most famous one in all of Shanghai. You can admire it at the Jade Buddha Temple. Let’s visit.
The beautiful current building, recently renovated, dates back to 1928. It replaced the old temple that once stood here but was destroyed during the revolt that overthrew the Qing dynasty.
In front of this golden facade, you’ll notice the imposing incense burner.
Entering the first hall, you’re greeted—if you can call it that—by fierce-looking celestial kings.
There are four of them, each positioned at a cardinal point, acting as protectors of the Buddha placed in the center of the room. A smiling Buddha whose kind face you can see through a glass pane.
From hall to hall, we admire the decor around the Buddhas. Red drapes, traditional lanterns... a refinement from floor to ceiling.
Here, we stay as discreet as possible in front of this scene: a woman praying on her knees before this altar and its golden, gleaming Buddha.
This other statue depicts a Buddha in a reclining position, resting. Offerings, mainly fruits, have been placed right in front of the sculpture.
And the famous Jade Buddha? We did see it—a giant sculpture (1.9 meters) carved from a single piece of high-quality white jade. Its patina gives it a remarkable appearance, enhanced by precious stones like emeralds and agates for decoration.
This large Jade Buddha, also meditating in a reclining position, is placed in a dimly lit, almost dark room... and a sign at the entrance warns visitors: no photos allowed! So, we’ll just have to commit the image to memory.
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From a Buddhist temple, a place of reflection, prayer, and meditation, to a temple of another kind—consumption. The contrast might seem a bit bold, but when traveling, sites of all kinds follow one after another.
Here we are on Nanjing Road, a street teeming with pedestrians and lined with all sorts of shops, from trinkets to luxury goods.
Nanjing Road is without a doubt Shanghai’s busiest shopping street. Vehicles only cross it at several intersections—the street is entirely pedestrian. A crowd of people fills it all day long: locals, Chinese visitors, and foreign tourists.
And what a lineup of vertical signs! Chinese characters dominate, though you’ll notice that international brands are trying to carve out some space. Globalization and uniformity are well underway around the planet.
Even without any specific shopping plans, we stroll through this flow of pedestrians, immersing ourselves in the atmosphere.
A few steps forward, then a right turn, a zigzag to the left... window-shopping time.
Clothes, shoes, watches, perfumes... and displays of Chinese specialties that catch my eye: here, an assortment of skewers; there, stuffed buns (they look appetizing, and the line of buyers suggests they’re worth it); then a stall of sea cucumbers (which don’t exactly tempt me!).
Hanging by their necks from hooks, a row of ducks that will likely end up roasted, Peking-duck style.
The afternoon draws to a close. We escape the hustle and bustle of Nanjing Road via a side street as dusk darkens the city. Some signs start to light up... time for the stunning spectacle of Shanghai by night.
When traveling, you sometimes wonder whether it's worth revisiting a site in the evening that you've already seen during the day—there are so many other places to explore in the city, and then there's the fatigue from the day to consider…
In Shanghai, there's no need to hesitate for a second. By night, the Yuyuan District and the view of the skyscrapers from the Bund are must-sees during a stay in Shanghai. The illuminations are truly magical.
Let’s start with one of Shanghai’s most romantic atmospheres. Head to Yuyuan and all its picturesque houses with architecture worthy of imperial China. You can’t wait to see them under the nighttime lights.
After passing through the entrance of this famous market, just as lively in the evening as it is during the day, you reach the central square and, most importantly, the Huxinting Tea House. A real marvel with its thousands of multicolored lights—and that water mirror is stunning, sparkling with a thousand reflections!
From this angle, you notice the balustrades lining a bridge leading to the pagoda-like building. This bridge turns out to be a series of zigzags—nine of them, to be exact. A symbolic number in Chinese culture, noble and glorious during the imperial era.
The zigzags of this “Bridge of Nine Turns” are said to protect the dwelling from evil spirits, which, as you may or may not know, can only travel in straight lines.
The colors of the lights aren’t fixed—after the green and red version, here’s the blue and green, then purple. Gorgeous!
Add to the lights the sound of the place, bathed in a haunting Chinese melody… you’re completely charmed by the scene.
Next, you wander the surrounding streets, often looking up to admire the profusion of golden light garlands outlining the rooftops and their curved lines.
Oh, here’s a familiar face… with his blue silk tunic from the imperial era. A stylish look for this actor who encourages tourists to take selfies with him.
And for such souvenir photos, there’s a line… We know about the Japanese passion for taking pictures, but the Chinese aren’t far behind—and with the crowds everywhere in China, the impression is even stronger. So much so that it’s often hard to take a photo of a façade or landscape without people in the frame, posing (or goofing around) for the photo or the inevitable souvenir selfie!
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The light festival isn’t over yet. Now, we head to the Bund, a highlight of Shanghai’s nighttime magic.
The façades of the Bund’s buildings are all lit up, contrasting with the dark sky. A warm, golden light that highlights the diversity of these structures lining the promenade and the great Huangpu River.
But if you observe all the visitors over one or more evenings, you’ll notice they’re really only looking at the illuminated skyline. The skyscrapers of Pudong on the opposite bank steal the show from the Bund’s historic buildings.
You have to admit, the spectacle is truly fantastic. All these tall towers sparkle, flicker, shimmer, and glow with thousands of colored lights. A real fireworks display—but without the firecrackers!
The colors constantly change, giant Chinese characters appear, along with some messages and advertisements.
At regular intervals, a huge “I love SH” (Shanghai) appears, sharing the spotlight with the same heartfelt slogan in Chinese.
The spectators’ faces are also lit up… with big smiles of satisfaction. “Wow!”s fly, “Oh my God!”s too—in Chinese, it’s an exclamation I can’t transcribe…
Of course, I didn’t miss the chance to photograph this luminous skyline by night… I’ve got a good series with different colors, more or fewer reflections on the water, and with or without nighttime cruise boats, also lit up…
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The light show continues. First, we drive under the river through a long tunnel with pale neon lights… before emerging on the other side (the right bank), in the heart of Pudong and the Lujiazui business and financial district… in simple terms: we’re now at the foot of the skyscrapers.
The “neck-craning observations” sequence begins, though you still have to watch your step (with a few quick glances at the ground). Speaking of steps, a change in levels… tripping and falling is the potential risk of a nighttime visit here.
On the other hand, when it comes to the view, you’re always blown away by the sheer scale and the dazzling light show.
Proud of these cutting-edge buildings, the Chinese aren’t shy about boasting about the technological qualities of these skyscrapers, where all risks have been accounted for: no fear of fires, earthquakes, elevator breakdowns, or whatever else… okay! If you stretch it (and exaggerate a bit), you might think the Chinese have found the solution to the mythical zero-risk scenario…
A first vertical view—the photo subject lends itself to it. On the left, the “Bottle Opener”; in the center, the Jin Mao Tower; and on the right, the Shanghai Tower.
This lineup makes you think of a podium in a competition between these towers, but here, the tallest isn’t the one in the center—no, it’s the one on the right, number one at 632 meters.
How tiny the photographer looks, so small in front of these colossal buildings whose tops seem to disappear into the darkness of the sky.
Escorted by these towering, endless-tiered silhouettes, we find the “Pearl of the Orient,” the TV tower with its three “pearls” currently glowing a brilliant green, like enormous emeralds.
The perspective is impressive with the strong low-angle effect. To capture this angle, imagine me lying flat on my back on the grass, my lens framing these three skyscrapers.
There are some original compositions to capture here—high-impact selfies. Just place a smartphone in photo mode on the ground and tilt your head, positioning your face on the screen between two towers. With three people, it’s even better, with a head between each tower.
You can imagine that such a dazzling display of lights against such a vast urban backdrop comes at a cost—and not a small one. They say it’s around 1 million yuan per evening (about 126,925 €), but this stunning spectacle is offered to the public for the four hours following dusk. In the end, that seems like enough time to enjoy it and soak it all in.
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After the fascinating artificial lights of the evening, in the morning, Shanghai (and we ourselves) wake up under the soft glow of the sun.
It’s time to leave Shanghai, the Bund, and the wide Huangpu River, still bustling with a continuous ballet of boats.
As for this tower, it’ll be the last view of Shanghai—it’s not the most imposing, as you’ve guessed, it’s the airport tower. Takeoff for new discoveries is just a matter of minutes away.
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Next part of the story and second chapter of the travel journal (Yangshuo) --> next post
A little over two hours of flight and some 1,300 kilometers flown southward—our plane begins its descent toward Guilin Airport, the main city in China’s Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region.
The view through the porthole gradually becomes less hazy, revealing the landscape: hills and cultivated lands crisscrossed by waterways. The tone is set—we’re about to land in a rural heartland of China.
Once gently touching down on the tarmac, the sun welcomes us with a blazing sky. A few minutes later, it takes its bow, disappearing below the horizon—we’ll have to wait until the next morning to discover the landscapes of this region, renowned for its dramatic relief.
Another hour’s drive through the pitch-black night to reach our destination, the town of Yangshuo. A city of just around fifty thousand inhabitants—almost a small town compared to the image of such a populous China.
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I particularly love the first glimpse of a place you arrive at late, having only caught hints of its appearance under faint nighttime lights.
Up early, I pull back the curtain in my room: the view stretches along Yangshuo’s main street, bathed in a soft morning glow at this hour.
Here, no skyscrapers like in Shanghai—just reasonably tall buildings. In this place, nature truly dominates: a beautiful setting of lush green slopes surrounds the town.
Breakfast is quickly devoured—a classic Western-style breakfast, I must admit, as I struggle with Chinese breakfasts featuring bowls of noodles or rice! Well, that’s another topic.
Eager to explore more of this captivating environment, we head outside. Just a few dozen meters below flows the beautiful Li River.
What a landscape—utterly enchanting! This panorama exudes the feel of a Chinese painting, with a light mist veiling the background of those peculiar "sugar loaf" peaks.
The atmosphere is soothing—a calm morning and a long, tranquil river turned into a perfect mirror at this hour. We stand in awe, mouths agape.
Most of the boats are still neatly lined up along the banks, barely a ripple disturbing the splendid reflections.
To bring a little life to this scene, there are those two boats and the fishermen busy teasing the fish with lines and nets.
A little further on, a swimmer is doing laps—one imagines they’ve swapped their usual tai chi movements for a morning swim.
After this moment of contemplation, we return to West Street (Xi Jie), where traffic is starting to pick up: a few cars and the inevitable bicycles—but above all, as almost everywhere in China, it’s now mainly electric scooters that locals use to get around. These scooters, all electric as required by law, at least don’t rattle noisily as they ride.
Scooters seating one, two, or even three people—to transport the whole family. Apparently, head protection with helmets isn’t a priority, but many of these vehicles are equipped with canopies.
Here, people protect themselves from the sun and, especially, the rain. Imagine, in these subtropical regions of southern China, showers are frequent—very frequent, in fact. We’re told there are around 300 rainy days a year.
This morning, a generous sun is shining, and it will accompany us throughout the two days spent in the region—we’re savoring our luck.
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Past the bridge spanning the Li River, the road winds through the valley, weaving between the hills. After a few kilometers, we leave the pavement to venture onto a narrow path crossing a cultivated valley.
The surrounding landscape is breathtakingly beautiful. The light makes the green hues glow, and in the distance, karst peaks encircle these fertile expanses like protective ramparts—but ramparts with towering silhouettes shaped by Mother Nature.
This relief is the result of thousands of years of erosion: a sea once covered these lands, and after it receded, the slow work of erosion took over. Water and wind have sculpted this unique landscape over time.
As for local crops, you won’t be surprised to hear that rice paddies dominate.
With the humid and warm local climate, rice thrives in these well-irrigated lands, crisscrossed by a dense network of canals. Two harvests are produced annually in this region.
Walking along the paths between the rice paddies, we pass from newly planted fields with young shoots, feet in the water, freshly transplanted, to other fields with more mature rice ears.
Further on, a buffalo cow is happily grazing on the lush grasses of a meadow. Beside her, her calf accompanies her. By the way, do you know what a buffalo calf is called? A... buffalump!
Here, buffaloes aren’t raised for their meat but for their strength. Rice cultivation isn’t fully mechanized yet, so these domestic buffaloes are essential for plowing the fields and pulling carts.
Exploring this valley, we discover many other crops: lotus, soy, coriander, peanuts, and others whose names I’ve forgotten—
Oh yes! There are also taro fields. No relation to the card game—taro is a root highly valued for its nutritional benefits, a tuber with a slightly floury texture similar to sweet potato. These are the roots this farmer is harvesting.
In the Chinese countryside, it’s mostly women you see working in the fields. No, it’s not that the husbands are taking it easy—quite the opposite.
It’s important to know that middle-aged men often migrate to cities, where work in construction and factories is much more lucrative than agricultural labor.
Many couples are thus separated—the men only returning home rarely, as transportation costs are high for their modest salaries. The Chinese New Year period is usually the time for families to reunite, if only for a few short days of vacation.
At the end of this path, at the foot of a towering limestone peak, we reach a few houses. No, the hamlet isn’t abandoned, despite the state of some buildings suggesting otherwise.
A few banana trees add a tropical touch to the place, and my (nosy) gaze spots rice grains drying in the sun on the packed-earth floor of an inner courtyard.
And at number "14," what’s drying? Sorghum, hanging from the eaves.
Another hamlet, another house—this one in perfect condition, well-kept, simple but charming. Visiting it is part of our countryside stroll. The friendly septuagenarian couple living here is used to welcoming visitors to share their daily life—and one imagines this helps them "put a little butter in the spinach," or rather "spices in the rice," a more fitting expression for Chinese cuisine.
The welcoming peasant woman, whose permanent smile seems to have etched wrinkles into her face, gives us a demonstration. She skillfully operates a stone mill grinding soybeans, and a thick, whitish liquid flows into a container. All that’s left now is to make tofu.
That’s not all—now our kind farmer dons a tunic made of rice straw, we’re told. A sort of local raincoat to protect against showers while working in the fields.
The inside of the house is clean but extremely simple. At the back of the room stands the inevitable television. On the walls, a few family photos, and prominently displayed, the presidential couple waving against a Shanghai skyline backdrop.
The charming old lady now leads us into her kitchen—a sink and a stove, simple and ordinary, one might say. However, on the opposite side of the room, we spot rather surprising furniture.
Two black-lacquered coffins are placed there, waiting, just in case... It’s a custom in rural China—when you reach an advanced age, you’re ready!
Returning to the surrounding rice fields, we’re once again amazed by this landscape with its striking and truly photogenic relief—it’s hard to resist capturing it from every angle.
This is probably the most common tree in the region (along with bamboo!), found in the countryside and even in the city—a sweet osmanthus.
It has beautiful green foliage, but the flowering season hadn’t arrived yet—too bad for us. When in bloom, the tree is covered in yellow, pink, or white flowers, and they give off a sweet fragrance. That scent is used to flavor drinks like traditional tea.
From yellow to red, the ripening "dragon fruits" grown in this patch of land shift in color. These fruits are also called "pitaya." As for the flesh, it’s white with dark seeds. Out of habit, I’d compare the texture and tiny seeds to a kiwi… but not quite, since the flavor seemed blander to me.
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Night had fallen, and we were back "in town" in Yangshuo, where we discovered other local fruits.
On this street-side display, these are jackfruits. They’re prepared and ready to be tasted… though I’m not sure "tasting" is the right word, since these fruits give off some pretty unappetizing smells. The odor really didn’t make me want to learn more about their flavor.
A little further on, the fruit and vegetable market is mobile, with women carrying their goods the old-fashioned way—on a shoulder pole… tough on the shoulders, we can imagine!
But what a crowd tonight on Xijie Street! We’re shuffling in places, bumping into each other on the sidewalks, trying to move through the throng. "It’s like this every night," we’re told.
Indeed, the Yangshuo and Guilin region is a top destination for Chinese and Asian tourists, thanks to the stunning landscape of this basin where the Li River flows. The numbers are even more impressive: around 20 million visitors flock here annually, and there are no fewer than 1,000 hotels and other accommodations to host them.
For now, we’re blending in with the crowd, strolling through the city center. It’s a festive evening atmosphere, like August 15th back home. Crowds and cacophony. Picture the mix of scooters and cars, the bursts of laughter from tourists wandering around, and the vendors’ announcements. Every merchant has a microphone and speakers—essential if they want to be heard over the din.
This guy on the right is chopping chili peppers, while the others on the left are kneading and pounding a thick paste—looks like nougat—and they’re doing it in rhythm, with music. Boom, boom!
On the right, we hear loud applause coming from inside a room… a show in progress? Yes, a sports event—a basketball game that seems to be exciting some noisy spectators.
Even though basketball isn’t the most popular sport in China, we’re in the middle of the 2019 FIBA Basketball World Cup, which is taking place right here in China. The Chinese team didn’t exactly shine in this international competition, but the French team held their own, finishing 3rd—well done!
A hundred meters further on, the area becomes completely pedestrian. Bars, restaurants, and fast food spots line the street, and you can see globalization has reached even this part of rural China, with several international burger chains…
Stalls selling souvenirs and trinkets are everywhere. You really can find a bit of everything here—look, I see one, then a second stand specializing in ear hygiene… meticulous ear cleaning offered on the right sidewalk, and an identical one just across on the left. Is the right stand only for right ears, and the left one for left ears?
The dark night is lit up by a true festival of lights and colors: signs, ads, neon, and lanterns… here, it glows, sparkles, and shines with thousands of lights. No doubt about it—when it comes to creating a festive atmosphere, they don’t skimp on electricity!
One last beautiful scene with these luminous reflections in the water. Stunning with that little bridge.
The next morning… Another day, and a new quiet morning along the Li River. As you’ve gathered, before heading out, we couldn’t resist admiring this exceptional panorama once more… and capturing the memory with a few more photos.
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A little later in the morning, we’re 8 kilometers from Yangshuo’s center, specifically in Fuli. A small town with two very different sides: a new city and an old quarter that evokes China of the past.
Here, in this historic area, time seems to have stopped in the Mao era. His portrait, forever youthful, holds a prominent place in this picturesque pharmacy.
Several streets are decorated with red flags bearing five stars. Everything seems ready for the upcoming National Day on October 1st—a celebration marking the 70th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China in 2019, a historic event.
Strolling down this street, we discover scenes of traditional life in Fuli.
In a doorway, an elderly woman is cutting bamboo shoots. She kindly agrees to be photographed, but her smile seems a little shy… I won’t insist and thank her.
Nearby, on a clothesline, strange (to us) filaments are drying… they’re actually very, very long Chinese noodles.
This thousand-year-old town is famous for its artists, painters, and fan makers. A long tradition and artistic know-how that this man is showcasing.
A fabric cut into a semicircle, a bit of glue, sticks arranged just right in the shape of a fan. After drying, here’s the result. Now the artist can display their talent by painting a scene of the region’s landscapes: limestone peaks in the background, the course of a river—like the Li, for example…
At the end of the street, it’s a dead end… well, sort of. No way out by land, but there’s a dock and a pier, and most importantly, access to the famous Li River. That was the goal of our detour to Fuli—this morning, we have a highlight of the trip in the region: a bamboo raft ride on the Li River.
A well-dressed man paces the dock—like us, he’s waiting for a raft for the river ride.
The sun is shining again today, lucky us—the scenery will be even more beautiful. We notice our Chinese pedestrian shielding himself from the hot rays with a pretty pink parasol. In these parts, the accessory is always handy—one day to protect from the sun, and most often to stay dry in case of showers.
By the dock, a group of Chinese women in their finest floral dresses are ready to board a bamboo raft. Their matching outfits stand out with their floral patterns.
Smiling broadly, they seem proud to be asked for permission to take their photo. When asked, they tell us their beautiful traditional dresses reflect their belonging to the Puyi ethnic group.
Here we are at last! Comfortably seated on a simple bamboo raft—well, actually made of PVC bamboo, which is easier to manufacture than natural thick stalks! But that’s just a detail because what really matters is the visual spectacle unfolding before our eyes.
A breathtaking and stunning panorama drifts by at a slow pace. Once again, we marvel at this landscape with its succession of "sugar loaves" that, in some places, take on the shape of pyramids or blunted saw teeth. The Chinese sometimes call them "dragon’s teeth," a more fitting description than my saw-tooth comparison. Most of these karst peaks are entirely covered in vegetation, giving them a lush, green allure.
To our right, the sound of an engine catches our attention. A sleek boat overtakes us, propelled at a good speed by a motor mounted on a long metal pole—so, neither bamboo nor PVC.
Speaking of bamboo, let’s talk about it. Gigantic specimens line certain stretches of the river. Shaped like fans (typical of the region!), these tall foliage formations almost create a rustling guard of honor in the wind.
Other details bring this landscape to life. Over there on the right, a few kids are enjoying the river’s waters, splashing around playfully!
As for this buffalo with its impressive horns, it’s also taking a dip between agricultural work sessions. Observing it closely, you’ll notice its rope is tangled around its horns, limiting its freedom.
Along the towpath, on the opposite bank, a farmer leads a buffalo accompanied by its calf—yes, I’ve mentioned that before!
But what are those women with bent silhouettes doing, persistently rummaging through the riverbank’s mud and pebbles? They’re likely searching for shellfish or snails, a culinary specialty of the region.
As we continue down the river, we remain constantly captivated and enchanted by these landscapes. No wonder such scenery has inspired poets and painters—here, every viewpoint feels like a masterpiece.
The Chinese authorities have also paid tribute to these unique panoramas. A view of the Li River and its mountains was chosen to illustrate the back of a 20 yuan banknote, while the front features the unavoidable Great Helmsman, Mao Zedong himself!
How we’d love to extend this ride, stopping time to endlessly admire these mesmerizing landscapes...
For that, the contemplative relies on memory, and the photographer on... their memory card. Capturing the moment to remember it later, to revisit it, or to share it—you’ve guessed it, I didn’t hold back from photographing these landscapes over and over again.
Preserving the memory of these places by drawing them is what I did with this Chinese ink sketch (perfectly fitting!) and a few watercolor touches. The sugar loaves, the river, a fisherman... with a springtime feel, adding blooming plum trees. A simple reproduction inspired by some local artists’ works.
This morning, the river flows perfectly calm, the water level ideal for navigation and our discovery ride. But it’s not always like this—during heavy rains and floods, the Li’s level can rise significantly, causing floods and damage. That was the case in spring 2017... it’s hard to imagine the situation back then, with the river rising about twenty meters—what a nightmare!
A pure white egret takes flight from the riverbank’s pebbles—did we disturb it? Maybe, though we passed at a distance.
Here, it’s not the white-plumed birds that steal the show but rather the black ones—I’m talking about cormorants.
An ancient tradition links them to fishermen who use them to catch fish in rivers and lakes. The technique proves more effective than line fishing.
This fisherman’s trained cormorant just dove to catch a fish. Okay, the photo’s a bit blurry—the distance and the raft’s movement didn’t help. But it captures this fishing method. Look closely at the cormorant; you can see a string around its neck—that detail matters. Here’s why:
Hungry cormorants are eager to catch fish and will hunt relentlessly to fill their stomachs. But the clever (and somewhat barbaric) fishermen have a trick: they place a ring around the bird’s neck. The caught fish can’t be swallowed, so it gets stuck in the cormorant’s throat. The fisherman just has to grab it, and—voilà!—the fish lands in his basket. Pretty clever, right?
The hardworking cormorants are regularly rewarded—every job deserves pay. The ring is loosened, and a fish is quickly swallowed.
If I understood correctly, whether as a joke or truth, the "union rate" is one fish for the bird every six catches. Some clever cormorants are so used to this rhythm that they’ve internalized it and stop fishing after the sixth catch, waiting for their share. Not so dumb, these Li River cormorants!
This technique is said to be used less and less. To preserve the memory, an elderly fisherman stations himself near the embarkation dock. With his two cormorants, he poses for visitors.
As we can see, he takes good care of his birds, regularly sprinkling them to keep them cool. Oh, the old man is wearing a rice-straw tunic on his back—a protection we’d previously noticed on our countryside farmer.
The Li is rich in fish, and you can find them for sale on stalls, like here on Fuli’s quay.
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Back in Yangshuo, a fish dish was on our menu. We were greeted warmly and with smiles as we entered the dining room.
In the center, the fish dish is one of the local specialties: "Beer Fish." To accompany it, as usual in China, several small dishes of vegetables, rice, potatoes, eggs... and to serve yourself, you just spin the center of the table!
How did the fish taste? Pleasant, though I’ll admit I didn’t really detect the beer’s flavor. Then again, as the photo shows, with the drinks we’d had at the start of the meal—local aperitif (cooked wine) and a small glass of rice alcohol—the mix was bound to overwhelm our taste buds.
You can’t leave the Yangshuo area without seeing the stunning "Sounds and Lights" show performed every evening in this one-of-a-kind setting of the Li River mountains.
A grand spectacle, just like the Chinese know how to pull off. "Impressions Liu Sanjie" features no fewer than 600 performers in front of around 3,000 spectators per show.
A wonderful festival of colors, lights, laser beams, music, and costumes… the scenes, songs, and dances evoke the local life of yesteryear and the fame of a legendary singer who became celebrated thanks to her exceptional voice. The storyline also includes a heartbreaking love story…
The stage—a water plane of the Li River with illuminated mountains in the background—is absolutely stunning and spans distances of a kilometer or more!
The show’s production took nearly five years under the direction of Chinese filmmaker Zhang Yimou, renowned, among other things, for the opening ceremony of the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics (he’s also mentioned for the 2022 Winter Olympics shows, which will take place in the mountains around Beijing).
For photography, it’s a challenge, especially without a tripod and with all those spectators. Night shots handheld aren’t easy to pull off!
These few photos give just a (tiny) glimpse of this unforgettable, vibrant performance.
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Our last day in the region, the day of departure, we head to Guilin train station.
Gradually, as we move away from the mountains, the mist softens the landscape, and the lush green slopes take on an almost bluish hue.
But there’s no room for nostalgia—we loved the change of scenery, the beauty, and the contrasts of such a diverse China.
Unfortunately, Yangshuo is no longer the peaceful village it was over 10 years ago.
The construction of a new highway and the arrival of the high-speed train have significantly increased the number of visitors, leading to the construction of new hotels to accommodate them—and even a McDonald’s. The sharp rise in tourists has also worn out the patience of locals. It’s understandable that a farmer working in his field might get exasperated when tourists come to take his photo or snap a picture of his water buffalo. He, too, wants to cash in on the tourism boom and now charges for photos.
For a taste of traditional rural China, you’ll need to head west or to some of the more remote villages in Guizhou (not too far from Yangshuo).
Wow!!! What an incredible amount of work you’ve done without any fuss!!!
I’m not at all drawn to China, but I’m curious to discover some of its aspects through reports or travel journals. So, thank you so much for all the time you’ve spent on this.
Since I’m also not a fan of cities, it’s the karst region that caught my attention... so many similarities with Vietnam and Thailand.... Those landscapes are truly stunning... But I imagine it’s hot and humid there.
So, I’m all the happier to enjoy them from the comfort of my armchair.
The staging of the show took nearly five years under the direction of Chinese filmmaker Zhang Yimou, renowned, among other things, for his opening ceremony of the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics (he’s also mentioned for the 2022 Winter Olympics shows, which will also take place in the mountains around Beijing).
Zhang Yimou*—with this kind of reference, the show can only be perfect.
* The Chinese equivalent of a Scorsese or a Coppola.
He never hesitates, despite his fame, to constantly explore new styles.
His latest work, "Shadow, Aka Ying," is a pure marvel of aesthetics.
Given the number of photos and the quality of the text, bravo—I know how much work that represents, and thank you, of course.
It brought back memories of two of my trips to China: Guilin over thirty years ago and Shanghai almost twenty years ago now.
Among the row of facades in the left-hand photo, you can spot the green roof with red trim of the Fairmont Peace Hotel (1929 Art Deco style), a luxury palace where all the prominent figures had to stay when passing through Shanghai.
Back in 2000, the internet was still in its early days, and I’d preferred to book my nights in Shanghai and Hangzhou through the Maison de la Chine. The person at the MdlC had recommended—despite the price not being insignificant—booking at the Peace Hotel. I’d compromised (actually split it three ways) by only staying there for 2 days, spending the other 4 in a less prestigious hotel.
The night cost 800 FF at the time, but I didn’t regret it for a single second. This hotel is fabulous, an Art Deco gem, perfectly located on the Bund, and I’d recommend it without hesitation—whether you’re a VIP or not...
And I won’t even mention the breakfast on the seventh floor, with a view of the Huangpu and Pudong.
Thanks, Louis, for your message and this account.
It’s true that we’re seeing more and more tourists in many places... you just have to deal with it by trying to avoid peak times (holidays, festivals, etc.).
Still, the Gulin and Yangshuo region offers visitors such stunning landscapes that it’d be a shame not to enjoy them... even with crowds of tourists!
Thanks for the tip about visiting another rural area like Guizhou.
I’m joining in with all the compliments and thanks for this beautifully illustrated and enjoyable travel journal. It’s a real little gem that sparks wanderlust and gets the travel itch going... especially now that they’ve announced a direct flight from Perth to Shanghai!!!
Wow!!! That’s an incredible amount of work done so quietly!
I’m not really drawn to China, but I’m curious to discover different sides of it through reports or travel journals. So thank you *so* much for all the time you’ve put into this.
Since I’m not really into cities, it’s the karst region that caught my eye... so many similarities with Vietnam and Thailand. Those landscapes are truly stunning! But I guess it’s hot and humid there.🤪
So, I’m even happier to enjoy them from the comfort of my armchair.
Thanks a lot.
Thanks for your message,
Yeah, putting together a travel story can feel a bit long at times... you know that with your own fascinating travel journals on VF... but as long as you enjoy "reliving" the trip and sharing it...
It *is* pretty hot and humid in the gorgeous Yangshuo region... and September, when we visited, isn’t even the most stifling or rainy time of year. It’s true that you find this kind of landscape in other Asian countries too... and also, for example, in the Caribbean in Cuba with the mogotes of Viñales.
As for the cities, they’re especially impressive because of their sheer size—both in sprawl and height—with all those high-rise buildings, not to mention the population density.
But China is so diverse that there are plenty of fascinating regions for nature lovers, landscape enthusiasts, and desert explorers... which seems to be more your thing.
Thanks for the visit and for highlighting the work of director Zhang Yimou.
The show in Yangshuo is spectacular and makes perfect use of the stunning natural scenery of the karst landscape around the Li River.
Great to include the link to the presentation of this talented filmmaker’s latest work.
Best regards.
Thanks for your interesting account of those interiors I didn’t get to see… there’s so much to take in in this huge city (and country). The architecture of those old buildings gives a great perspective, but many of the interiors are definitely worth seeing and admiring too…
We know the "Master’s" eye and the photographer whose talent we’ve often admired, especially in VF’s photo contests...
Here, you noticed that dark spot at the bottom of the image! More than the wide-angle, I think it’s the lens hood’s effect... but what’s the point of keeping it on when taking night photos, as if the DSLR wasn’t bulky enough already...
I cropped the bottom of the photo a bit, but too much to leave the basket’s base visible.
et aussi par exemple dans les Caraïbes à Cuba avec les mogotes de Vinales.
Wow, I had no idea there were landscapes like that in Cuba! I went there in 1984 as a teenager on a package tour with my family, but the tour operator didn’t show us that part of the island. Thanks for introducing me to it!
tu connais cela avec tes intéressants carnets publiés sur VF..
Thank you!
Mais la Chine est si diverse qu'il y a beaucoup de régions fascinantes pour les amoureux de la nature, des paysages et des déserts.. ce que tu sembles préférer.
I saw Veileen’s travel journal about the desert area and the dunes... and the yellow rocks... It’s really beautiful, and all the visits are very structured...
Still, Wulingyuan National Park is so appealing, as is Huanglong National Park.
But then, there are so many other places that attract me too... So for now, China and I...?????
On the other hand, one of your trips I loved was the sled rides in the Arctic region or Nunavut... That’s my dream—to do a journey like that. The hardest part is convincing my husband... Maybe one day.
I’m joining the many compliments and thanks for this beautifully illustrated and enjoyable travel journal. A real little gem that sparks wanderlust and gets the travel bug going... especially with the announcement of a direct Perth-Shanghai flight!!!
Hi Xavier,
Thanks for your comment... you were right to call it a "little" gem!
With the direct flight from your far-off (for me) hometown, I can see that it might give you some ideas for a change of scenery. And, as you can imagine, the destination is not only interesting to visit but also very photogenic.
Awesome travel journal! I was in Shanghai a month ago, and I really enjoyed reading about your adventures. It’s always a pleasure to read your posts.
I was also in Yangshuo, but two years ago :-)
Your journal brought back great memories! I also went to see the sound and light show—it was stunning!
I made a little video of our trip where I filmed the show, among other things.
Visitez mon site Woueb : http://philwoodrama.free.fr
L'avantage d'être intelligent, c'est qu'on peut toujours faire l'imbécile, alors que l'inverse est totalement impossible
That "little video" of yours is amazing—it’s got all the makings of a big production! Such pro work, bravo!
Thanks for letting me discover the landscapes of the upper Li River with those drone shots. Stunning! Just like the terraced rice fields and the Hong Kong skyscrapers. Thanks a lot.
Hi Jean,
First of all, congratulations and thank you for this beautifully illustrated travel journal.
I’m also in the middle of planning a trip to China, and I’m thinking of taking a side trip to Yangshuo. So I have a few little questions for you: I imagine it’s easy to find a provider for a bamboo raft ride on the Li River. Can you confirm?
How long does the ride last, roughly, and where does it take you? Not all the way to Guilin, right? And price-wise, what should I expect?
Thanks for all these details, and I’m off to read—or rather, re-read—your Hong Kong journal.
See you soon,
Christine
Hi Jean,
First of all, congratulations and thank you for this beautifully illustrated travel journal.
I’m also preparing a trip to China and planning a getaway to Yangshuo. I have a few questions for you: I imagine it’s easy to find a provider for a bamboo raft ride on the Li River. Can you confirm?
How long does the ride last, and where does it take you? Not all the way to Guilin, right? And price-wise, what should I expect?
Thanks for all these details, and I’m off to read—or rather reread—your Hong Kong journal.
See you soon,
Christine
Thanks for your interest in this story.
Well, regarding the possibility of finding local providers for Li River rides, no problem—short or long trips along different sections of the river... I confirm. But as for the other details, it’s hard for me to answer because my ride was part of a guided and organized tour. I just followed the program and the raft’s route.
Happy trip planning!
Thanks Jean for your reply.
I think we’ll see how it goes when we get there—I don’t think I’ll take too many risks.
I’m off to read the rest of your Chinese adventures (always so interesting and beautifully illustrated).
See you soon,
Christine
hi, I just read your story and saw your photos of YANGSHUO.. it's really interesting and I’ve noted this place for my future itinerary. Could you tell me how you went down the river? Did you rent a boat or are there "little excursions" available for tourists, or should I just ask the fishermen? Thanks for your reply. I love your watercolor..
Hi! I just read your story and looked at your photos of YANGSHUO... it's really interesting, and I’d noted this place for my future trip. Could you tell me how you went down the river? Did you rent a boat, or are there "little excursions" for tourists, or should I just ask the fishermen? Thanks for your reply. I love your watercolor...
Thanks, Danièle, for your message.
Our ride on the Li River was part of an organized excursion... but there are plenty of boats and fishermen offering this lovely, peaceful cruise. Even though I haven’t tried it myself, you can probably do it independently quite easily... and from many spots along the Li River.
We started from the town of Fuli, and as you can see in the photo below, there were plenty of boats available...
Your message took me back to those travel memories in China—it was just a year ago, so many great memories! Especially in that stunning region of Yangshuo.
Once again, a great travel journal to your credit—I hadn’t noticed it at the time.
I think it was best to take advantage of that 20/25-year window when it was possible to visit Guilin/Yangshuo in the best conditions.
A Franco-Chinese agreement makes visas free until the end of 2025, but I’m not sure I’ll be tempted.
One question: how was it on the accommodation and food front—good, not so good, or really great?
Your post really takes me back to the memories of that amazing trip...
As for hotels, nothing particularly noteworthy to say—they were pretty decent.
When it comes to meals, they’ve long since been digested ;-) but I still remember the delicious Peking duck and the interesting presentations of Chinese dumplings. And in Chengdu, there was the Chinese hot pot with Sichuan pepper—you’ve got to be a little careful with that since our European taste buds aren’t really used to it... but of course, it’s all a matter of personal taste and sensitivity. As for desserts, we quickly realized it’s not a big specialty there—we often got watermelon, which was nice, but when it’s the same thing at every meal...
Just so you know, this trip was guided and organized, so it wasn’t a food-focused adventure.
Thanks for stopping by.
So happy this forum is active again! I still remember your travel journal—I just reread it, and it brought back so many great memories. That was at least 15 years ago. Back then, during an 8-week trip, it was possible to get a visa for more than 30 days. I’d visited part of Sichuan and Yangshuo along the way.
Now, we’re planning a trip mostly in Gansu. I imagine China has changed a lot since then...
Le fleuve Yangtse et ses célèbres trois gorges ... un vrai rêve de voyageur. Voilà ce que je vous propose de découvrir à travers ce récit d'une balade fluviale…
Un carnet de voyage en Chine ... vous vous attendez probablement à un récit évoquant soit une randonnée sur l'impressionnante Grande Muraille ou un parcours…
Même si ces derniers temps, la métropole de Hong Kong fait plus souvent parler d'elle pour ses manifestations de rues que pour son côté «vaut la visite » ...…
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…
Bon, celà fait deux mois que nous sommes rentrés, deux mois que je vis avec des souvenirs pleins la tête, deux mois que je me dis qu'il faudrait tout raconter,…
Alright, this year, we're heading back to South America!
The initial plan was to retrace the route we imagined in the summer of 2020: a trip to northern Argentina starting from Córdoba.
Unfortunately, the flight to Córdoba no longer exists, and airfares to Javier Milei’s country are both outrageously priced and involve multiple layovers.
So, I tweaked Google Flights every which way and finally found a flight within my budget—departing from Clermont-Ferrand!
Not to Argentina, though...
Our transatlantic flight will cross the snow-capped Andes, landing in Santiago, Chile, with a return from Lima!
In between, two domestic flights and a big road trip loop starting from the coastal city of Arica to explore the treasures of northern Chile.
Our mode of transport: a pseudo 4x4 that won’t take us through sand dunes or devilish tracks but will let us tackle the entire secondary network, including unpaved main roads, while still being insured.
Is the suitcase packed with all-season clothes?
Are the driver’s license and passport ready?
Bank cards and a few euros too?
Off we go for just over 3 weeks of southern wanderings!
--/--
To keep all my esteemed readers on track, here are a few maps outlining the Arica-Arica loop!
1- From Arica to San Pedro de Atacama via Pica and the Salar de Huasco
2- Around San Pedro
3- From San Pedro to Cariquima
4- From Cariquima to Putre
5 - From Putre to Arica
Gas stations in this part of Chile are located in Arica, Iquique, Pozo Almonte, Pica, Calama, and San Pedro de Atacama.
If I close my eyes and think of the Sultanate of Oman, I first smell a light scent of incense, feel the warmth of a sunbeam on my skin, before sand slips through my fingers. I taste the sweetness of a date, a real candy, then the flavor of coffee with a hint of cardamom and rosewater... I hear the desert wind whistling in my ears, the distant call of a muezzin, then the murmur of water. I open my eyes to see smiles, welcoming gestures, a turquoise sea, rocks ranging from ochre to purple, deep wadis where torrents burst forth, orange dunes, white sandy beaches where tiny crabs scurry at full speed. I see incredible oases emerging between arid mountains. I see abandoned villages that I’d dream were full of life, imposing fortresses overlooking valleys, and lively souks where offers are delicate and negotiation is a mutual courtesy.
All that, and so much more.
This is what I tried to capture in my illustrated travel journal, which I’ll fill in here and there with photos.
I drew this journal “cold,” after my return (actually, I made it this summer, while our trip was last winter). It’s a pretty special format—I bought it in Japan without really knowing what I’d do with it. Well, it found its purpose! Below is a photo of this accordion-style journal: here, it’s only partially open, because when fully unfolded, it’s 5 meters long!
For drawing enthusiasts: The accordion format is both a constraint (each sheet is 9 cm x 27 cm) and a freedom (you can create a fresco). The paper is also a bit special: it doesn’t allow for fine lines, but it takes ink well (liner pen). However, everything has to be done almost in one go (with a very light pencil sketch) because it erases poorly. It absorbs too much water for coloring with markers or watercolors (unless you avoid soaking it), but it works well with oil pastels and their use with a brush and solvent. Since it’s yellowish, it allowed me to create contrasts even with white pastel.
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those stunning doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Oman is one of the world’s largest producers of frankincense resin. Incense burners are everywhere, from the simplest clay ones to the most precious handcrafted silver ones...
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a touch of saffron, and occasionally rosewater.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (during the week and daytime; colors are more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you’ll see some men dressed in Western clothes, they’re very few. The white dishdasha is truly the shared attire of all men. The dishdasha, which has no hood, is distinguished by a small pom-pom attached to the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go overboard with it! "It smells like the pom-pom" is an expression that’s now part of our shared language, my husband and I.
Another must of men’s attire is the kuma, a small round head covering, usually white with brightly colored patterns. The keffiyeh is also worn (but without the cord called an agal in Arab countries), and it’s mostly worn by those with roots in the desert, from what I understood.
And what about the women, you might ask? Some are veiled, some in full black (but not a burka—more like a chador + abaya), due to the influence of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, whereas the traditional outfit used to be a layering of very colorful dresses. Most of the women we saw wore neutral clothing, a plain veil over their hair, but with their faces uncovered. We also saw many saris and colorful veils—don’t forget that 40% of the population consists of Indian, Nepalese, and Bangladeshi immigrants, who work a lot in tourism, hospitality, restaurants, services, and construction.
Just to clarify, as a tourist, there’s no pressure to wear a veil, and never any disapproving looks. Of course, you’ll save the mini shorts, plunging necklines, bare shoulders, and midriffs for the hotel terrace—but I’d say that’s the same for men and women, and with the sun being strong, it’s better for your skin too.
Here’s the introduction! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
Bonjour,
Après avoir fait mon premier trip au Sénégal début 2026 je retourne à Saly début 2027. Nous avons apprécier ce pays et les gens pour lequel l'hospitalité donc la Teranga a toute sa mesure. Je me permet de vous communiquer un lien ci-dessous vers le site d'un guide pré nommé Babacar qui allie gentillesse et grande compétence et connaissance de son pays. N'hésitez pas à le contacter.
GUIDE AU SENEGAL, Babacar Faye
Cette année, je compte faire Saint Louis et le Désert de Lompoul ainsi qu'au sud la Casamance. Si vous avez de bons tuyaux de tout genre, n'hésitez pas à me les communiquer, Merci à ceux qui répondront.
Jean-Luc
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
My buddy Christian and I (Patrick) are off for 28 days in Argentina in March.
We’ve already shared several trips as a duo (Bolivia Peru, Namibia, Laos, Costa Rica).
Since we’re starting from the idea that at our age (65) we won’t be coming back here—there are just too many other corners of the world to discover—we did the "grand tour" of Argentina, with 6 domestic flights to make the most of our 28 days.
Here are our stops:
1) Departure from Brussels to Buenos Aires via Madrid
2) Arrival and first contact with Buenos Aires
3) Early morning flight to Ushuaia. Boat trip on the Beagle Channel
4) Ushuaia: hikes in Tierra del Fuego National Park
5) Ushuaia: last hike and flight to El Calafate
6) El Calafate to El Chaltén by bus. First hike
7) El Chaltén: hike
8) El Chaltén: hike
9) El Chaltén: hike and bus back to El Calafate
10) El Calafate: Perito Moreno Glacier
11) Flight to Bariloche. Car rental and surrounding areas
12) Seven Lakes Region
13) Nahuel Huapi National Park region
14) Flight to Salta. Car rental
15) To Tilcara
16) To Humahuaca
17) To Purmamarca
18) To Jujuy via the salt flats
19) To Cafayate
20) Around Cafayate
21) To Cachi
22) Back to Salta
23) Flight to Iguazu
24) Waterfalls on the Argentine side
25) Waterfalls on the Brazilian side and flight to Buenos Aires
26) Buenos Aires
27) Return flight
28) Morning arrival
Happy reading!..
Hi everyone, we're back from a DIY USA road trip we organized from July 31, 2026, to August 26, 2026.
The destination: The Southwest USA, including Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico. Roughly 7,000 kilometers covered.
The car: A Chevrolet Equinox for two, rented through BSP Auto and Avis. Inside, we had 2 suitcases, a travel bag, two carry-on bags, a Walmart cooler, photo gear, and water bottles (a 40-pack).
The route: Dallas DFW, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Alpine, El Paso, Tucson, Sedona, Albuquerque, Amarillo, and back to Dallas to finish with a departure from DFW.
The travelers: Two seniors well advanced in years (73 and 75) but still active (nothing too physically demanding—to stay alive and fund our trips), fully independent physically, though a bit less so mentally. Big USA fans, a country where anything is possible. More walkers than hikers, preferring 3-star hotels over roadside motels, Italian restaurants over US food, frequent stops for photos, museums over nothing, naps over forced marches. Not too whiny, just enough to stay French in the land of the "great Satan," as they say.
Not great with languages—street English (but handy), and my Spanish is non-existent except for: "Hola! Una cerveza por favor!" That’s about it. My wife understands everything but refuses to speak.
The cost of the road trip: Around 12,000 €, including AF flights, the car, gas, gifts, visits, and everything else. Well managed, since we’d budgeted 13,500 € initially.
The positive side: A delight, with those endless open roads. Museums to discover. The realization of the Hispanic presence and its important history in this part of America. Lovely locals. Tourists who were more or less friendly. A terrible Texan accent that was hard to understand. Gas stations that were like real stores, with prepared food, alcohol sold in Arizona and New Mexico, and employees who were always up for a laugh!
The negative side: The heat throughout the trip... 43°C in Dallas at the end. Impossible to walk the streets. Lots of homeless people in downtown Dallas. Hotel breakfasts that were always the same. You get used to it.
So, it was positive overall, but the concept is starting to wear us out. We might rethink the DIY road trip model for next time. If the man upstairs grants us more time.
Next up, we’ll wait for the first batch of sorted photos to go through the wringer.
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.
"So, my little wanderers, back at the decks? What’s this mystery destination you’ve got in store for us at the start of the year?"
Yes, the schoolyard bell’s ringing again! We’re hitting the road... or rather, the skies! At first glance, our destination might surprise more than a few. First off, simply because I was here exactly twenty years ago, and I don’t usually like retracing my own footsteps. Secondly, because the name of this place screams mass tourism—basically the opposite of what Flo and I look for.
Despite that, in this land of backsheesh, I’d promised myself I’d come back one day to experience it my way. And since Flo told me, during our wanderer chats, that this destination straddling Africa and the Middle East was in her top 2 travel dreams, the stars aligned for this roots-style trip to quickly make it onto our pharaonic festivities program! Unless you’re totally clueless in general knowledge, you’ve probably guessed by now—we’re off to Egypt! Of course, a few classics will be on our itinerary, but above all, we want to soak up a culture that can’t be appreciated in four-star resorts or on a Nile cruise boat. And let’s be clear, these next two weeks won’t be a walk in the park—neither for our two daughters who are joining us, nor for our bodies!
And that’s clear from the get-go: after our first flight, eight hours of trying (and failing) to sleep on Milan airport’s metal seats, our second flight, landing, passport stamps, our Uber ride, and our first Cairo kilometers, we finally drop our exhaustion at the little guesthouse we booked in Giza. Doesn’t all that energy deserve a little reward?
Oh, absolutely! And here it is: a full-on slap in the face for everyone! But just look at this view from our hotel terrace? For 20 € a night for four, even with this incredible view, I figured the room must be pretty shabby, right? Nope... Is the staff rude, then? Nope... Okay, so what’s the catch? You’re gonna tell me breakfast is included too? Well, yes! Honestly, this Egypt trip is off to a great start.
And the rest of the afternoon, spent rubbing shoulders with locals, only confirmed this vibe. After digesting our pyramid view, we dove into the hustle and bustle of our neighborhood with the goal of exchanging money, eating at street stalls, and testing the hospitality of the locals. Ten out of ten!
Eight little sun breads with baba ganoush and falafel? 80 pounds, or 1.5 €. A dozen Middle Eastern pastries? Same! 80 pounds! Two hawawshis, those little pita breads stuffed with meat and spices? 10 pounds each, or about twenty cents! Not to mention all those smiles and free "welcomes" left and right!!!
What a welcome! We end this first day with a sunset over the three sisters of Giza—where we’ll obviously be gawking tomorrow...
The latest travel journal about Turkmenistan dates back to 2019. Here’s a quick update on this vast desert country, which is now a bit easier to visit than before.
This is my first travel journal. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. The country is slowly opening up, but it’s still possible to visit sites where you’ll be completely alone. In five days, I saw two Hongkongers, a few Germans, and a Chilean at the crater, ten Chinese people in a capital bazaar, and that’s it!
It’s possible to visit Turkmenistan from Uzbekistan. The easiest and most economical way is to take a taxi to the border from Bukhara. The trip takes a little over an hour.
Crossing the border takes quite a while because many Turkmen bring back items bought in Uzbekistan to resell in Turkmenistan. For example, diapers, baby products, or beauty products.
It took me over 2.5 hours to cross the border. To visit Turkmenistan, it’s mandatory to have a guide and go through a travel agency. British agencies often offer three-, five-, or seven-day trips for over 1,500 or 2,000 €.
But if your budget is more limited, you can contact a few Turkmen agencies directly by email, and they’ll make you an offer between 700 and 1,300 € for three to seven days. I took a five-day trip from Turkmenabat in the northeast of the country to Dashoguz in the north. The goal was to visit the main UNESCO-listed sites, including Merv, and archaeological sites like Nisa or Gonur Tepe.
Your guide will also be your driver. They’ll pick you up at the border. The formalities are very long because customs officers have to stamp multiple documents, and obtaining the visa you previously requested from your travel agency requires several checks. But the process goes relatively smoothly, even if each step takes a while.
Once on the other side, the first surprise is the brand-new highway all the way to Turkmenabat. A very long line of trucks stretches for several kilometers on the Turkmen side to cross the border into Uzbekistan. According to my guide, Turkmen trucks transport gas and cotton (though not this season, since the harvest is in September), but they mainly fill up their tanks because fuel is much cheaper in Turkmenistan. A full tank for a car costs about 3 €, which is unbeatable.
From the Farap border post, the goal is to reach the city of Mary, which is home to the UNESCO-listed site of Merv in its suburbs, about thirty kilometers away. This city is known as a foundation by Alexander the Great in the 4th century BC under the name Alexandria of Margiana. Several fortresses are visible.
After more than three hours on the road, we have lunch at a Turkish restaurant called Aladdin. Several quotes from the president are visible along the highway, but the road is in good condition, and we move along easily. This will be by far the best road in the country—things will get much worse later.
Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.
I’m sharing a little recap of this new 4-week trip to China—nothing fancy, just my experience.
We’re taking advantage of the extended visa exemption to return to China for the 4th time. I loved last summer’s trip so much that I’m a bit worried about being disappointed this year. Plus, I’ve had a few hiccups before this departure: my WeChat account got blocked, and I couldn’t recover it (luckily, Alipay still works fine); I couldn’t verify my 12306 account for weeks; Trip.com failed to book our second train; and I’ve got an injury that’ll slow me down during the trip... Ugh, I hate starting a trip with these kinds of issues. Then, oh surprise! Just before leaving, my 12306 account got verified! Super easy to use from that point on—I could book a few train tickets without fees.
We’re sticking with Free’s e-SIMs, which work great in China.
August 2–3
Anyway, on the morning of August 2nd, we took the RER to CDG. As usual, we couldn’t check in online. It’s always a bit frustrating, especially since we didn’t have any checked luggage. We flew with Air China. We arrived at the check-in counter at 9:50 AM, 2 hours and 40 minutes before the flight. The line for our check-in stretched 300 meters across the airport in both directions. What a joke!! We spent 1 hour and 45 minutes in that line just to reach the counter and get our boarding passes. By then, it was 11:35 AM, and boarding had already started at 11:20 AM. The screens showed a 25-minute walk to our gate—on the other side of the airport, of course—plus we had to go through passport control and security... Long story short, the plane didn’t leave without us 🙂 We boarded among the last passengers, and we took off at 12:30 PM. We’d flown Air China four times before, but this time, it felt *really* low-cost. The check-in chaos, the cramped seats (12 seats per row), no music by artists known outside China, mediocre food, and a boarding area at Beijing Airport with only 10 seats—worthy of Ryanair or EasyJet. And yet, the price was sky-high. Again, D.’s vacation requests were denied outside of July and August, so we’re traveling from August 2nd to 30th. We couldn’t have picked a worse time for inflated prices, and with the situation in Iran, we got hit with a 390 € fuel surcharge. I’ve never paid so much for flights—I felt like I’d bought business class, but nope, far from it!!
We landed in Beijing around 4:15 AM. It was 28°C with thick fog. We drove and drove and drove for 20 minutes, as usual in Beijing. Then we went through a first check, a second check, a third check, and waited for our connecting flight at 6:40 AM. A small Airbus A320, but way more space than in the Boeing 777 from the first flight. We landed in Kunming, Yunnan, around 10:15 AM in the rain.
We headed to the subway. You can’t pay at the machines with Alipay here either, so we set up the transport QR code directly in Alipay to scan at the subway gates. The process is a bit long the first time if you haven’t entered your info before, but once it’s done, it’s *so* much easier! We took Line 6 to the terminus for 6 yuan each.
We’d booked a hotel nearby, on the 16th floor. It’s actually studios on different floors of a huge residential building. The view’s pretty nice from here. We settled in quickly—back to those wooden beds, or rather, mattresses as hard as wood, which we *hadn’t* missed...
Then we went out for our first bowl of noodles of the trip and wandered through the shopping streets of the old town.
It was crowded, and the weather was cool—around 19–20°C. We tried a local specialty: milk skin, thick, dried, then grilled with rose jam. Yeah... we won’t be having that again. The taste and texture of the milk skin... no thanks.
We saw a lot of wild mushroom hotpot too. It’s on our list for later. We also passed through the Jinma and Biji gates, where I played with reflections in puddles. I *love* doing that 🙂
At the end of the day, we headed to a temple advertised as open 24/7 on Amap. Of course, when we got there, it was closed. We’ll go back tomorrow. That was the first of many disappointments with Amap this trip—I hadn’t had that issue on previous visits.
We were exhausted after that sleepless flight. Night was falling, and we decided to grab a quick bite without much appetite. We shared a delicious vegetable fried rice for 12 yuan—we even left half of it. The portions are *huge*.
After a couple of small purchases, we headed back at 9 PM, wiped out, after walking 17 km between the airports and these first steps in Kunming. I expected to see quite a few Western travelers here, but we didn’t spot a single one. Instead, we met lots of curious Chinese people, many of them super friendly and helpful—almost *too* eager, like when they’d run to serve us as fast as possible. It’s a bit much, but it’s great to be back!
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!!!
"How about a Christmas market this year, huh? A little romantic weekend getaway...
- Yes! That’d be cool! Strasbourg? Colmar?
- Feels a bit déjà vu, doesn’t it? Plus, slim chance of snow there... And I’d love something a bit more exotic with a touch of originality..."
"Okay, Google, give me the list of the five most beautiful Christmas markets in Europe.
- In fifth place, the Christmas market in Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania.
- Save your breath! Lithuania, here we come!"
We wanted cold, and cold is exactly what we got the moment we set foot in this new, unknown land. As for landscapes, forests and lakes stretch as far as the eye can see across this vast plain, its vegetation scorched by the frost of a winter that’s clearly already well underway here.
Lakes, in fact, set the scene for our first visit to Trakai Castle, whose brick-red towers and walls rise proudly against the azure sky of our first day. Lakes, because this castle was built on an island and is only accessible on foot via a series of walkways spanning half-frozen lake offshoots. I couldn’t have picked a better spot to build my castle! Translation: We’re totally sold! Proof is we spend two hours hiking around the area, alternating between forests, reeds, and cozy houses tastefully decorated for Christmas.
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while.
When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing.
The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
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.
Here we go!!!
I left home at 4 AM on October 31st and headed to Barcelona. Driving through Barcelona on the ring road stresses me out a bit, but at 6 AM the traffic is smooth, and I arrive at the airport without any issues. I call the valet, who quickly comes to pick up my car. He takes photos of it from all angles before letting me go.
Baggage check-in hasn’t started yet, and there are already several of us waiting.
Once free, everything happens very quickly. The flight to Abu Dhabi is on time and goes smoothly. I’ve never had any problems with this airline, which I’ve been using for several years.
The flight to Bangkok arrives at 7 AM as scheduled. This is my first time in Thailand and Bangkok. I’m used to traveling in India, and I notice that everything here is well organized—the customs process is quick, and the luggage is already on the carousel.
I booked a taxi on Booking. All I have to do is find the right exit and door based on the agency’s instructions. A large sign with the names of people who booked is posted on a wall. A hostess greets me and calls the taxi, which arrives 5 minutes later. I booked one night at the Lost Inn BKK hotel in the Phra Nakhon district, and we arrive at 9 AM. The welcome isn’t warm, and I have to wait until noon, sitting on a chair, before I can check into my room. I’m exhausted, and sleeping sitting up isn’t ideal. Noon finally arrives—the room is small but clean, which is fine for one night. I quickly take a shower to wake up because I plan to spend the afternoon visiting the Grand Palace. First, I need to exchange some money, and the banks are all close together on the same street, which is very convenient. When I enter one, a hostess gives me a ticket and invites me to sit down. There are about twenty counters, and I wait quietly until my number is called. The exchange is quick, so I can head out to find the Royal Palace. It’s actually very easy, and the walk is pleasant.
Entry to the Royal Palace (500 baht).
It’s magnificent and grand, and there are quite a few of us visiting. The sky is gray, it’s very humid, and a shower interrupts the visit. It’s a vast complex of temples and palaces. The buildings are colorful and sparkling, with a great sense of serenity (without the tourists, of course). I quietly enjoy the place and try to take photos without tourists, which isn’t easy.
Very close to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, one of the oldest Buddhist temples in the capital.
It’s very famous for its 46-meter-long reclining Buddha statue.
Walking around the temple, you can see different representations of Buddha, all covered in gold leaf.
Inside the temple, on one side, monks recite their prayers, while the other side is reserved for tourists who come to meditate in silence.
Before returning to the hotel, I have dinner at an Indian restaurant. I go to bed early because tomorrow’s wake-up call will be very early again.
Saturday, November 2nd
Wake-up at 4 AM, departure from the hotel at 4:30 AM. The taxi I booked via Booking is waiting for me and takes me to the airport. The trip is fairly quick—he takes small roads, and at this hour, there’s no traffic.
The flight to Phnom Penh is on time. Before boarding, I realize I left my fleece jacket on the carousel, but it’s too late to go back for it.
The flight goes well, and customs is quick.
At the exit, I take a tuk-tuk to Julieka’s GH near the museum. The welcome is friendly. I won’t be able to check into my room until noon, so I take the opportunity to exchange some euros on the market street. The street is lined with restaurants, and I’ll have my first meal there.
The museum is right across the street, so I don’t waste any time visiting it.
The representations of Hindu deities are very different from those in India, and I don’t recognize them. Many beautiful Buddhas are on display.
The museum is very pleasant, and there aren’t too many people, which is a plus.
At the exit, I return to the GH, settle into my room—which is decent and clean.
The Royal Palace is 1 km away. I walk along a garden, and at the end of the street is the Tonlé Sap, but I turn right. I arrive at a large esplanade and see the buildings with tiered roofs and glazed tiles. The entrance to the palace is a little further away.
At the entrance, I notice there isn’t the same crowd as at the one in BKK.
Khmer architecture is magnificent. The complex consists of gardens, palaces, pagodas with golden roofs, and slender spires.
The Silver Pagoda houses the small Emerald Buddha, which is actually made of jade. The silver flooring is covered with carpets. Photos are not allowed.
The walls surrounding the pagoda are covered with frescoes depicting scenes from the Ramayana.
My partner and I traveled from Sunday, July 5, 2026, to Wednesday, July 22, 2026.
We spent a long time debating whether to rent a car or use public transportation. In the end, after reading so many posts about travelers getting scammed by police or rental companies—even those recommended by blogs and reviews—we decided to stick with public transport. It worked out really well. Sure, we had a little less freedom to go where we wanted, but it was way less stressful for us.
Sunday, July 5:
Arrived at Cancun Airport. Withdrew cash from the ATM in the terminal just before exiting. The ADO bus counter (they pronounce it "A-Jee-O") is right behind you when you're facing the ATM. Bus to downtown Cancun cost 145 pesos per person.
Stayed at "Rose 5," booked on Booking. The studio was super clean and perfect for one night. The owner’s instructions for accessing the place were very precise, with photos included. Check-in was self-service with a code. The ADO bus terminal isn’t far, and there are shops and restaurants nearby. We really appreciated that the AC was already on when we arrived. By the way, I’d recommend always booking places with AC—it’s *really* hot in Mexico.
Monday, July 6:
Bought a SIM card with data from a TELCEL store. My partner, who’s on Free Mobile, was able to use her regular plan. Just so you know, I found the network pretty unstable. As soon as we left the cities, neither of us—me with TELCEL or her with Free—had any signal.
Another thing to watch out for: roaming charges. I had to turn my SIM back on for less than 30 seconds to get a bank SMS code, and my phone apparently connected to the internet—resulting in an 8-euro roaming fee.
Left on an ADO bus to Chiquila for 278 pesos per person. During our trip, ADO buses were always on time, comfortable, and clean. The AC is *cranked* though, so bring something to cover up with—it gets cold. Some routes were fully booked even in the low season, so try to reserve 1 or 2 days in advance either via the app (when it works) or at the counter.
When we arrived at the ADO terminal in Chiquila, the ferry company counters were right next to it. Ferries leave every 30 minutes, alternating between companies, so no need to book ahead. Just take whichever one is leaving next (330 pesos per person).
When we got to Holbox (pronounced "Hol-bosh"), we’d booked a place via Booking called "Casa de Nana." It was a huge studio with a fridge, cooking plate, and utensils. The best part? The *location*. It was 100 meters from the beach and 200 meters from a Chedraui supermarket. They provided bath towels and beach towels, and the AC worked perfectly. There’s a key box so you can leave your keys inside when you go out. The only downside was that no one was there to let us in when we arrived, so we had to wait a while. The Wi-Fi was good, which was lucky because during our 4-day stay in Holbox, the phone network *never* worked. According to locals, that’s pretty common in Holbox, along with water outages.
Luckily, I’d had the good idea to download an offline map, which helped us find our way back to the place more easily. You can walk there from the dock.
The restaurant next to our place (La Barracuda) was great if you like seafood—I’d recommend their octopus dishes.
Tuesday, July 7:
We did a kayak tour in Holbox’s mangroves at 6 AM. We were looking for a sunrise kayak tour with a French-speaking guide. That’s exactly what we got with "Kayaking Holbox," where Diego, the owner, speaks English and French. He was joined by Gustavo, another guide.
We’d booked for a group tour, but we were the only ones. Diego still went ahead with it instead of canceling due to lack of participants, so we got a private tour at the group rate—really professional of him. They showed us this amazing ecosystem for over 3 hours. We saw all kinds of birds: pink flamingos, pelicans, egrets, frigatebirds... rays, a horseshoe crab, and a little crocodile that was *so* well hidden. Diego and Gustavo have a real eye for spotting animals—I could’ve passed by the crocodile 100 times and never seen it, it blended in so well. Their explanations about the flora and fauna were super interesting. We also got a little break where we tasted mangoes and bananas that taste *nothing* like the ones in France. A real treat—those little Mexican yellow mangoes! I’d definitely recommend Diego and his agency for a French-language kayak tour (1000 pesos per person).
In the evening, we walked to Punta Coco to see the bioluminescence. No need for a guided tour—if you really don’t want to walk, you can take a taxi. At Punta Coco, you have to pass the beach bar/restaurant and then go left into a kind of inlet that forms a lagoon. You have to wiggle your feet or move your hands in the water to create movement, which makes the light appear. Just don’t expect the kind of photos you’ve seen online—they’re all edited! It’s fun to see, but you won’t be dazzled by the light...
Wednesday, July 8:
Whale shark tour with "My Holbox Tours." Why recommend this agency over others for swimming with whale sharks? Simply because Valérie surrounds herself with top professionals to make your experience unforgettable. We were with Captain Fernando, who does everything to position the boat perfectly and make your swim easier. In the water, we were with Humberto, who also goes above and beyond to make sure you have an incredible time. He doesn’t just "supervise" like some guides from other companies who leave you on your own. No, Humberto reads the whale shark’s trajectory and guides you—all you have to do is follow him. He really puts in the effort, even holding your hand to guide you through this quick but intense encounter. Humberto also films the moment and will offer to show you the videos and sell them to you. His footage is really high quality.
Fernando and Humberto also prepared food for us. Special mention for their guacamole! Valérie is there to make sure everything goes smoothly on the boat and to answer your questions in French, English, or Spanish about these animals. If you choose My Holbox Tours, you can be sure you’ll get a top-notch experience.
About the tour itself: before you go, you should know that the sharks can be *really* far away. The day we went, it took 3.5 hours by boat to reach them. The boats are small, and let me tell you—on the way there, when we weren’t going with the waves, it was *rough*. Out of 9 passengers, 4 got seasick. But once you’re face-to-face with the shark, you forget all about that. Even if swimming with a whale shark isn’t exactly a walk in the park—they swim pretty fast, so you need some endurance to keep up. You’ll usually get 2 turns. Our first swim lasted a little over 4 minutes, and the second about 2 minutes because the shark was moving fast and we were still tired from the first swim. It might seem short, but when you’re swimming, it feels *long*. Either way, it’s an experience you *have* to do—but choose your company wisely. On the way back, there’s a stop at Cabo Catoche. Honestly, the snorkeling is pretty disappointing if you’ve done it elsewhere in the world. But the lunch stop at Cabo Catoche is really nice for relaxing (white sand and hammocks).
Thursday, July 9:
Short morning walk to Punta Mosquito at 6 AM. Really nice.
Ferry to Chiquila (330 pesos per person) + ADO bus to Valladolid (300 pesos per person).
In Valladolid, we booked "Casa Lucia" via Booking. The hotel is gorgeous, with a colonial style, and very close to the ADO bus terminal and downtown. It’s super quiet and clean. There’s a shared kitchen you can use with a fridge, microwave, and water dispenser, plus a big table by the pool and a nice indoor terrace. Breakfast was simple but included. The only small downsides were the tiny room and bathroom, no mirror in the room, and a noisy fan.
Friday, July 10:
Not far from the ADO bus terminal is the colectivo station for Chichen Itza. They offer a round-trip to Chichen Itza with an option to stop at Ik Kil cenote on the way back and then drop you off in Valladolid for 370 pesos per person (Ik Kil entrance included).
For the Chichen Itza visit, we’d booked a tour with a guide often mentioned in groups—his name is Juan Pat. He’s a Maya who lives near the site and speaks excellent French. He reserves spots in advance for you and queues up to be the first on-site. It cost 500 pesos per person + entrance fees. His tour lasts 2 hours and focuses mainly on the main pyramid and the ball court. He’s passionate and fascinating, even if some of his claims, as a Maya, might be a little biased. I think it’s *really* important to have a guide—otherwise, you’ll miss so much. You can contact Juan Pat on WhatsApp at +52 985 121 2381.
Afterward, we went to Ik Kil cenote (showers and life jackets mandatory, lockers available). It’s *very* crowded, but still really beautiful with its lush vegetation.
Saturday, July 11:
Since we didn’t have a car but still wanted to visit other cenotes that seemed hard to reach by public transport, we decided to book a taxi for the day. We agreed on 1200 pesos to take us to 3 different cenotes and wait for us at each one. (To find taxis, just look where they park near the ADO bus station.)
He picked us up at Zaci cenote, which we’d walked to. We got there at opening time and were the first ones there—had the place to ourselves for a while! 150 pesos per person. A pretty cenote in the city center with lush vegetation. It’s a bit like Ik Kil but without the deep cylindrical effect.
Cenote Xcanahaltun: the most beautiful cenote we visited. Entry 250 pesos per person. It’s a closed cenote with a hole that lets light in—a cave-like setting. You can kayak inside. There are little fish at the edge that nibble dead skin off your feet. Since it’s closed, the water is *freezing*!
Cenote Palomitas: entry 250 pesos per person. Another stunning closed cenote, even more enclosed than Xcanahaltun. The hole in the ceiling is smaller, so it was pretty dark when we arrived—kind of an eerie vibe. But when the staff turned on the lights, it looked like a "Gothic cathedral" full of bright stalactites.
Cenote Sac Aua: entry 290 pesos per person. The ticket includes a guided cave tour (tip-based). This cenote is really unique with its central island and way less crowded than Suytun. Just so you know, the water is *really* cold in cenotes. In these three, in July, we had the place to ourselves for a while and never saw more than 2 families at once—so peaceful!
Sunday, July 12:
ADO bus to Bacalar (536 pesos per person).
In Bacalar, we stayed via Airbnb with a host named Luli, who offers several rooms with shared bathroom and kitchen.
The room is nicely decorated in a pleasant setting. It’s ideally located near the lagoon and downtown. The shared kitchen is handy. The mosquito net over the bed is useful because there are *a lot* of mosquitoes in Bacalar. Luli provides a water jug, which is really nice. The only big downside is the lack of water pressure in the shower—we had to rinse off by filling a bucket. Also, there’s no real door separating the room from the bathroom. We never met Luli in person, but she was very responsive via messages. The terrace in the middle of the vegetation is lovely.
From the ADO terminal to the place, we took a taxi for 40 pesos. Since this driver was honest about the price (we’d checked beforehand), we decided to use him every time we needed a taxi in Bacalar. Here’s his WhatsApp: +52 983 184 3585.
Monday, July 13:
We did a boat tour on the lagoon with "Bacalar Francophone Activities." Since we were just the two of us, it cost 3500 pesos. If we’d managed to be 4 people, it would’ve been 1000 pesos per person.
We had a private 4-hour tour on the lagoon with Steeve and his very comfortable boat. He’s from Quebec, so his French is perfect. During those 4 hours, Steeve showed us the lagoon’s iconic spots *and* places other boats don’t go. He told us about the lagoon’s history and gave great tips on where to go and where to eat. As a little bonus, he gave us a video taken with his drone during our swimming break.
Tuesday, July 14:
We went to Los Rapidos by taxi (400 pesos round trip) and entry was 225 pesos per person. It’s *very* touristy but really beautiful. You can eat there (expensive), relax, and go down the "rapids" as many times as you want. It’s worth it if you spend a few hours there. You can’t bring in food or drinks—you leave them at the entrance and pick them up on the way out.
Wednesday, July 15:
On Wednesdays, navigation is banned on Bacalar Lagoon, so we’d planned another excursion.
Visit to Calakmul from Bacalar with ABCtours (WhatsApp +52 983 319 8359).
This agency organized a trip from Bacalar to Calakmul with a French-speaking guide. Communication beforehand via WhatsApp was smooth. Mr. Checo, the driver, and Fernando, the guide (who spoke great French), picked us up on the day. Mr. Checo drove very carefully on the long road and always made sure we were comfortable. Fernando is passionate about flora and fauna—he’s a biologist with a degree in ornithology, so he knows *everything* about animals. The slightest sound or song, and he knows what it is. He’s got an eye for spotting them, from the biggest to the smallest.
During the trip, we stopped at km 27 for a short forest walk, then went to see the two main pyramids on the site. On the way back, we stopped at the bat cave for the magical spectacle of millions of bats flying out at dusk. In the end, we saw or glimpsed (some briefly) spider monkeys, howler monkeys, a toucan, 2 tapirs, turkeys, 2 deer, and lots of birds. If, like us, you’re more into flora and fauna than archaeology, I’d *highly* recommend this agency and tour with Fernando.
It’s not cheap, but the road between Bacalar and the site is *long* (3.5 hours). Price: 3900 pesos per person for 2 (3500 for 3, 3200 for 4).
Thursday, July 16:
ADO bus to Playa del Carmen (614 pesos per person).
In Playa del Carmen, we stayed in an Airbnb. The building is on the town hall square, next to the casino.
The best thing about this place is the *location*—super close to Fifth Avenue (La Quinta). The kitchen is pretty basic, but the fridge works well. There are supermarkets nearby. The rooftop pool is really nice. The two big downsides, though, are the soundproofing (you can *hear* the neighbor’s alarm and all the events on the square) and the *total* lack of water pressure in the shower. We had to fill a trash can with water to pour over ourselves. When we told the owner, he said it wasn’t normal and someone would come fix it, but we never heard back. Based on previous reviews, this seems to be a known issue that never gets resolved.
Playa del Carmen is *very* touristy on Fifth Avenue, but in a fun, musical vibe—we never felt unsafe. There are *tons* of little souvenir shops for tourists on this street. There’s a beautiful monumental sculpture on the beach (the two figures meeting in the air), next to which you can see the Voladores show (men climbing a pole, tying themselves with ropes, and descending headfirst while "flying" around the pole). The show is tip-based and happens several times a day. In our opinion, Calle 38 is prettier than Fifth Avenue—it’s lush, green, and quieter, with the sea at the end. Great for an early evening stroll. We had really good meals at great prices at "El Tio Noy" tacos, just a few meters from Fifth Avenue in a side street.
For souvenirs, we’d recommend going to Walmart instead of Fifth Avenue—you’ll find skulls, tequila, mezcal, keychains, mugs, glasses... at good, fixed prices.
Friday, July 17:
We did the excursion to Isla Contoy. Isla Contoy is an uninhabited, highly protected island. Only 200 people are allowed to land per day on a rotating basis, so only a few companies have permission to dock there. Most agencies subcontract the day to a third-party company.
We booked through VRM (Viviendo Riviera Maya), but it was Ocean Tours Mexico that handled the tour. Contoy is a little paradise. We were accompanied by multilingual guides, including French speakers, throughout the day. Steffy gave us info about the island during a short walk on the marked trails, and Leño Tlatemoa kept the mood up on the boat rides with music and dancing. Isla Contoy is *truly* stunning, and the lunch was delicious: grilled fish and chicken, guacamole and tortilla chips, rice, fruit, drinks (everything is brought and taken back by the guides). The snorkeling part was pretty disappointing if you’ve done it in Cozumel, though. The stop at Isla Mujeres isn’t very interesting either—it’s too short to explore, and the island is *extremely* touristy. Still, the excursion was very well organized, and we had a great day (2970 pesos per person).
Saturday, July 18:
We wanted to go snorkeling in Cozumel but thought the prices from French-speaking agencies were too high. Plus, for snorkeling, we figured we didn’t *need* a French-speaking guide.
So we found a much cheaper solution by taking the ferry from Playa del Carmen ourselves and choosing an agency in Playa. The round-trip ferry cost 663.50 pesos per person. Then we took a taxi to the snorkeling boat (100 pesos). The agency we chose is called Mystic Snorkel—they don’t have a physical office. The tour cost 1400 pesos per person. It was a small boat, but that day we were the only ones, so we got a private tour at the group rate. We stopped at 4 different sites, all very different and beautiful. We saw all kinds of fish, corals, a nurse shark, and turtles. El Cielo, with its huge starfish, is *exceptional*. If you’re going snorkeling in the Yucatan Peninsula, this is *the* tour to do—the other sites are pretty "poor" in comparison.
Sunday, July 19:
Morning dive with Triton Diving. I chose the Cozumel dive option. Great experience.
Booking via WhatsApp was easy. On the day of the dive, Selene, who speaks French, was our guide. She’s *very* attentive to the group’s safety. The briefings are clear and precise. In Cozumel, we did 2 very different sites: the first was a drift dive with lots of life—beautiful corals and fish. The second was a wreck, the C53, a 56-meter boat you can enter. Not much marine life, but a beautiful wreck intentionally sunk for divers—still in great condition. An unforgettable moment. Selene even took videos during the dive, which the club sends you for free afterward. I’d *highly* recommend this club.
Just so you know, in Playa del Carmen, the beaches were full of sargassum during our stay, despite barriers and daily cleanup. Locals told us the problem is getting worse and the sargassum is arriving earlier in the season. Tourism has taken a *big* hit this summer, and they’re wondering if tourism can even survive the sargassum season anymore. A lot of tourists are heading to the islands—Isla Mujeres and Cozumel—to enjoy the beaches, as the west side of those islands is sargassum-free.
Monday, July 20:
Colectivo to Puerto Morelos. First, a colectivo toward Cancun that drops you off between Puerto Morelos town and Puerto Morelos beach (40 pesos per person), then another from that junction to the beach (10 pesos per person).
In Puerto Morelos, we’d booked a room via Airbnb at "Piedra del Caribe." *Best* place we stayed in Mexico. It’s an aparthotel. Our room was ready before check-in, so they let us in early. The place matched the description—spacious, with a comfortable king-size bed. The shower had *great* pressure, which isn’t a given in Mexico. The staff was super friendly and welcoming. They let us use the pool, restrooms, and rooftop shower after check-out while we waited for our ride to Cancun Airport. They even kept our luggage. I *highly* recommend this place.
In Puerto Morelos, there was *way* less sargassum than in Playa del Carmen—it was actually swimmable.
We did the snorkeling tour with the fishermen’s cooperative for 450 pesos per person for 2 hours. The reef is close to the beach (you’re not allowed to swim there), so the boat ride is short. It’s not as pretty as Cozumel, but it’s nice and affordable. On Puerto Morelos’s page, you can also access a small, not-very-well-preserved reef. There’s also a cenote in the sea where fresh water mixes with saltwater—the water is murky there. We had a great dinner and excellent cocktails at "La Choza del Puerto."
Tuesday, July 21:
Wandered around Puerto Morelos (check out the church and read everything—it’s entertaining!), relaxed by the hotel pool, and left for Cancun Airport by taxi (400 pesos) booked via InDrive to head back to France.
Our highlights:
- Holbox
- The whale shark tour
- The cenotes
- The local flora and fauna (so present!)
- Isla Contoy
- Cabo Catoche (except for the snorkeling)
What we liked least:
- The bioluminescence (barely visible despite good conditions)
- The food—we found it not very diverse in taquerias
- The constant tipping
- The lack of water pressure in showers (fixed, wall-mounted, no hose or showerhead)
Don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions while it’s still fresh in our minds.
Traveling with just one spare pair of underwear, considering a hot shower a miracle, never staying in the same place too long by sleeping wherever night catches us, taking whatever local, improbable, and rickety transport we can find—this is the DNA of us wanderers. Except this time, the script for our movie is going to be a whole different genre. On paper, the destination doesn’t exactly scream epic adventure: Réunion! And what’s more... we won’t be two, or four, or even ten. We’ll be a solid thirty. All from the same family. Yes, thirty. At this point, it’s not just a trip—it’s a summer camp on the move! Why inflict this on such a peaceful island? Because my brother decided to get married there with his lovely bride. A great idea, you might say... especially when it involves relocating the equivalent of a small Ardennes village 10,000 kilometers from home for three weeks! So who’s stepping up to be the guide and wave the little flag?
So, for an exceptional trip, exceptional stories! Don’t worry, the debates at the supermarket over whether to choose plain chips or roast chicken chips, the beach picnics washed down with ti’ punch, and other rougail sausages to digest by the pool will only make it into the family archives. Here, I’ll stick to the tales of our beautiful escapes, the ones where we explore the wild corners of this little volcanic rock planted in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So where exactly are we headed?
For the first week—the subject of this first installment—we’re taking it easy. We’ll start by rediscovering the coastline, from the Souffleur in Saint-Leu to the Hermitage lagoon, before a little trip to the Cirque de Cilaos and its legendary road with 400 turns, just to get our legs warmed up.
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style.
All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of three years at most in Thailand, and I’m not a big expert on the country.
However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to piece together a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who miss it.
I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.
I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guards for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course.
Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious.
Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big property, be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t really made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons.
That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though, are much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been broken for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the side of the road, sometimes right on the road. When you arrive, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, which reminds visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. Seeing a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you might think it’s best not to cross paths with them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at temples on the brink of death, enduring terrible suffering. No one did anything about it. The image (and the smell) of one of them, dying and emitting the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The well-fed animal quickly became a happy, enormous beast with its own garden. Yet, it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water in them for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not a gimmick—it’s just that these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
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...
Here we go—finally, the big day has arrived! A trip the whole family (my two kids, my husband, and me) had been looking forward to for so long.
To keep it short, we left from Nice, arrived in Namibia on June 25, 2025, and left again on the 21st—four weeks later.
We used an agency for all the camping reservations, activities, and the car rental. At least that side of things was taken care of. Michaël was our contact throughout the planning and the trip itself.
We spent our first night at Londiningi BB. A bit out of the city center but very quiet. The rooms were spacious and clean, and we could eat on-site that evening. Perfect for recovering from the flight.
This travel journal is our second on VoyageForum, following last year’s where we recounted our four weeks in Vietnam.
The goal remains the same: since some members on this site share tips, experiences, and great deals that help us prepare for our trips, we do the same after returning—both to give back a little and in the hope that our experiences might be useful to others in some way.
Our route was as follows: Bangkok, Siem Reap, Krabi, Suratthani, Koh Phangan, Koh Tao, Chumphon, Bang Saphan, Prachuab Khiri Khan, Sam Roi Yod, Hua Hin, Phetchaburi, Bangkok.
Beyond rediscovering Bangkok, our objectives were the long-held dream of seeing Angkor and exploring southern Thailand, much of which isn’t overly touristy.
A quick big thank-you to Barbot, who took the time to answer several of our questions.
12/07/2013
The cheapest flight we found earlier this year was a Paris-Bangkok route with a layover in Moscow for 1440 €, total for two people.
So, this time we tried Aeroflot. Airbus A318 for the first leg, A330 for the second. Nothing particularly annoying to report—the passengers were very calm, the cabin temperature was comfortable, and we had enough legroom.
That said, the quality of the meal trays was pretty mediocre, and the flight attendants weren’t exactly comedians.
We’d like to remind everyone that it’s best to exchange as little money as possible at the airport upon arrival, since the rate is about 5% worse than at city banks.
Of course, we made sure to take the airport exit where you can catch official taxis to avoid getting scammed. So, we queued up, a little lady gave us the ticket, and off we went with the driver.
Generally, this system works well because these drivers are registered, know their duties, and the risks they face if they break the rules. Except that day, right off the bat, we got the scammer of the day. His first move was to snatch the ticket from my wife’s hands—the one you’re supposed to keep in case of a complaint. My husband saw it, but after a full day of travel, we were a bit out of it, and honestly, there was no reason to be suspicious. But once we started driving, the guy refused to turn on the meter. We insisted more and more firmly, but nothing. So, I used the famous method of opening the door and starting to step out of the car. At 40 km/h, that scares the driver more than the passenger. He finally turned on the meter, but that didn’t calm him down—quite the opposite. For the next half-hour, he ruined the ride by demanding extra fees here and there. Having dealt with several scam attempts last year in Vietnam, this wasn’t exactly new, and we were proud of ourselves for staying pretty zen. Still, this guy was a little scary—he was completely wired and aggressive. Honestly, it was hard not to think he was on something. He’d be perfect for a *Scarface* remake. When we finally arrived at the hotel, he followed us to the entrance. We paid the two tolls (25 and 45 baht), gave him the usual 100 baht extra for the ride, and stayed polite but firm. So, meter: 245 baht + 100 baht + 25 and 45 baht for tolls—we paid the exact amount, no way we were tipping this guy. He left furious, but he was already like that before picking us up... Anyway, avoid Mr. Chartree Chidchen, number 089 826 7308, car E2663!
We were so relieved to finally settle in at Feung Nakorn Balcony hotel in the temple district. 42 € per night, great reception, all the staff is friendly. The AC works fine, the bed seemed hard at first but turned out to be comfortable. The hotel is quiet, away from the nightlife, but at this time of year, many places are less crowded than in high season. Even with a nice fish pond and outdoor breakfast area, it’s a decent hotel, though we felt we could’ve found something better.
After a night on the plane, the first afternoon is always a bit of a slog. We napped for a few hours, and when we woke up—guess what—we were starving. We visited a temple across from the hotel (nothing special) and then decided to take the Chao Phraya Express, the river shuttle that serves many piers along the river. It was a really enjoyable experience. The steel gangway wobbles when you board and disembark, the boat sits low in the water, and sometimes you get splashed. During peak times, you’re packed in like sardines, but most of all, there’s that exotic urban landscape passing by, especially the temple rooftops.
At that exact moment, the boat was packed. We didn’t see a ticket booth at the pier, and we tried in vain to pay the few baht for the ride. The cashier on the boat was too busy, and another employee we called didn’t have time to help us. Oh well, we weren’t going to force the issue. Still, this mode of transport is super practical for avoiding traffic, and at the piers, the lines with station names are clearly marked, with colors matching the flags on the boats. Combined with a map like the *Routard* guide, it’s easy to navigate.
We easily made it to the restaurant *Harmonique*, located near one of these piers. It’s a unanimous favorite on this forum, and let us tell you—it’s well-deserved. What a wonderful experience that evening! We only saw the outdoor gazebo because there was no way we were dining inside. It’s not flashy, so those looking for a luxurious setting should look elsewhere.
That night, the staff was a bit slow, and we had to track them down several times to move things along. But oh, my friends—what a feast on the plate! Start with the appetizer platter for two at 250 baht, featuring four specialties, each more tempting than the last, followed by their famous crab curry for 200 baht. There’s *so much* crab in there! The dish is so delicious and rich that when you finish, you feel—how to put it—like it was almost *too* good, to the point where you’re almost put off eating for days. And also, oh yes, we *will* be back. Their satay chicken is just as amazing, and it would be a crime not to mention their generous dessert with ice cream, warm banana, and chocolate, plus their *excellent* almond milkshake.
Later, we took a taxi to Kao San Road, mainly to book a Ko Tao-Chumphon trip for 600 baht per person at the Lomprayah counter. In hindsight, we should’ve booked all three of our trips there right away.
Kao San Road is *ultra*-touristy—better for younger crowds, but it’s still worth seeing. There’s rock ‘n’ roll, hippies, and crowds everywhere.
We walked back to the hotel, and when we got a little lost near a canal, a really nice older Thai man spontaneously appeared out of the night to kindly point us in the right direction.
Finally, a real long night of sleep ahead—we cranked up the AC. Sweet, the vacation has begun!
Hi there,
I just got back from a trip to Sri Lanka from December 18th to January 1st with 2 adults and 2 kids (12 years old).
If it helps, here’s my itinerary.
We left on December 18th from Madrid with Qatar Airways. No complaints. I booked my tickets back in March for 800 € per person. (I flew from Madrid because I live near the Spanish border and was too worried about strikes in France.)
We arrived on December 19th at 4 PM (local time). Before leaving France, I’d booked a taxi through MyTransfer for 59 € to Sigiriya. A van was waiting for us at the airport exit.
A never-ending 3-hour drive to Sigiriya. We stayed at Samana Guesthouse—very simple, clean, with a pool and an excellent Sri Lankan breakfast. Shower and straight to bed.
Friday, December 20th: Beautiful weather, but very humid and hot. We visited Lion Rock (36 € for adults) and then Pidurangala.
I loved both sites—they’re a must-do in my opinion.
Spent the late afternoon by the pool.
Saturday, December 21st: Another gorgeous day. The guesthouse manager offered us a free 2-hour tuk-tuk tour. We first visited a lake, rice fields, the temple, and the Sigiriya market, plus the usual tourist trap—the botanical garden (no pressure to buy anything at the end).
Then we took a tuk-tuk to Dambulla Temple, the Golden Buddha, and the wholesale market.
Sunday, December 22nd: Still beautiful weather. I’d booked a taxi for 8 AM. We did all the long trips by taxi to save time. I’d ask for prices from 2 or 3 WhatsApp taxi agencies 2 days or the day before—super responsive, always got replies within 5 minutes. We headed to Ella (4-hour drive) for 22,000 LKR.
Arrived in the afternoon at Rest Full Homestay—a small, family-run guesthouse. Clean, cozy, and an amazing Sri Lankan breakfast.
In the afternoon, we went to Nine Arches Bridge. It was a Sunday, a Sri Lankan holiday, so it was *packed*—mostly locals and very few white tourists! Even though it was crowded, it was cool because it was all Sri Lankans. We waited an hour for the train. It’s worth seeing, but honestly, I didn’t think it was that amazing.
Then we headed to the station to check if we needed to book tickets for the train to Haputale—turns out, no.
Monday, December 23rd: Beautiful weather. We hiked Ella Rock—a gorgeous trek. The final stretch is steep but shaded, so it wasn’t as tough as I’d read. The whole hike is stunning from start to finish. We saw the train pass twice (one blue, one red) and lots of women picking tea.
After that, we did Little Adam’s Peak. It’s not hard, but it was *packed* with tourists—meh. Luckily, at the top, you can walk a bit farther (down one side and back up) to get some space to yourself.
What I *didn’t* like was the commercial vibe at the big café/restaurant with a pool at the entrance of Little Adam’s Peak. Loud music, all that money being made right next to little souvenir stands run by Sri Lankans or tea-picking women. Felt off.
Ended the day buying souvenirs at one of the few shops we found during the trip.
Tuesday, December 24th: Beautiful weather. Took the train to Haputale. We got to the station 30 minutes before the 9:30 AM train. We could’ve taken 2nd or 3rd class—I went with 2nd (160 LKR per person).
It was crowded, but we managed to get seats—first 2, then 3. Only a 1-hour ride, but I *loved* it—windows and doors open the whole time.
Arrived in Haputale around 11 AM, and the mist was already rolling in.
We walked to our guesthouse, The Mist Holiday Bungalow. Simple but clean, with a great view of the tea plantations. The owner’s wife is Vietnamese and used to work for French tour operators, so her French is still pretty good—helpful for us since our English is terrible. They booked us a tuk-tuk for 4:45 AM the next day (2,000 LKR) to Lipton’s Seat.
Spent the afternoon wandering around Haputale. Not much charm, but there’s a nice fruit and veggie market and a short walk through the tea plantations.
Wednesday, December 25th: Beautiful weather. The tuk-tuk was on time to take us to Lipton’s Seat. We were the first ones there—the sky was just starting to turn pink. In the end, only about ten of us watched the sunrise. The guesthouse had packed us breakfast, and we walked back down (half on the road, half through the plantations). Didn’t see any tea picking since it was Christmas, but the walk was still incredible. We took detours through villages full of kids.
After that, we visited the tea factory. The tour was really interesting, and we took the bus back down to Haputale. Such a great moment—whole families were heading to mass, dressed up and made up. All so beautiful.
At noon, we left for Udawalawe National Park. Taxi for 14,000 LKR. Stayed at River Inn Safari Cottage. *Warning*: It’s the same place as Eagle Safari Cottage. I don’t recommend it. We’d always stayed with families before, but here it was just staff—totally different vibe. The pool was nice but not very clean (water was murky). The bungalow was big and fine, but it was brand new—so new the asphalt floor wasn’t fully dry. It’s in the middle of nowhere, so we had to eat on-site. Couldn’t leave a review on Booking because they never confirmed we’d stayed, and they canceled our reservation the next day.
Thursday, December 26th: Beautiful weather. I’d booked a safari through the hotel for 5:30–10 AM for 54 USD. Honestly, yes, there are a lot of jeeps, but it was great. The kids loved it—we saw everything there was to see.
Left by taxi at 11:30 AM for Welligama (12,000 LKR).
We didn’t stay in Welligama city but at Coconut Beach, between Welligama and Midigama. *Total crush* on the guesthouse: Sky Mountain Café with View. Such a lovely family. The mom makes amazing meals at reasonable prices. The view from the hill over the sea is unreal.
Spent the afternoon walking along the beach.
Friday, December 27th: Beautiful weather. My kids are surfers. Unfortunately, there weren’t any boards their size to rent at Coconut, so we took a tuk-tuk to Welligama Bay (1,000 LKR). They surfed from 8 AM to 5 PM—rental was 5,000 LKR for the day. Meanwhile, we walked the beach and swam. Water was 29°C.
Saturday, December 28th: Beautiful weather, rain from 4 PM until midnight. Same surf day. They were so well-behaved the whole trip, so this was their reward.
Sunday, December 29th: Beautiful weather. Beach day at Coconut. *Warning*: It’s a reef break. For surfers, there are three spots (Coconut Left, Middle, and Right). The boys bodysurfed (with fins) all morning, and at 1 PM, we took the bus to Hikkaduwa.
Stayed at Hotel Universal Beach. Nothing special—right on the water, but the rooms were dark even though they were clean. The manager was super nice, but the rest was meh, and breakfast was mediocre compared to what we’d had before (2 eggs and 3 slices of toast). Plus, it was late—8 AM.
First impression of Hikkaduwa wasn’t great—way too many Russians for our taste.
Monday, December 30th: Beautiful weather. Spent the whole day exploring. Turtle Beach, then the other side of the beach (toward Galle) near the fishing port. The beach there is much wider, with scattered hotels and super quiet. It’s beautiful—I should’ve booked somewhere in that area. Ended up having a great day away from the crowds.
Tuesday, December 31st: Overcast, then beautiful, rain at 4 PM. Had to end the year (and the trip) with some surf. Rented boards for the kids (3,000 LKR per board for the day). Bad luck—the waves were on a reef break but small. Not great for them, but no big deal. They still got out of the water by 2 PM. Walked the beach (which is gorgeous), had a juice, and went for a swim. Then back to surfing in the rain at 4 PM.
Wednesday, January 1st: Left by taxi at 5 AM (18,000 LKR). Flight at 10 AM. Arrived in Madrid at 8 PM.
I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).
So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!
We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice.
For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.
We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.
Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).
Day 1 – Paris to Lima
Foreword
I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.
Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).
Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.
As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.
Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.
Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
We did the Langtang trek (hike) from September 10th to 17th, with the first and last days being the trip from Kathmandu and back—so 6 days of actual walking. It’s a fairly well-known trek but certainly not as famous or crowded as those in the Annapurna or Everest regions, which is why we chose it.
In theory, it’s mandatory to have a guide for this trek. In reality, it seems there are ways to bypass the regulations: we met at least two people hiking without a guide—a South Korean, a New Zealander, and possibly also a couple of English women and an American couple, though we’re not sure if they had a guide.
The agency we booked with had told us it was an affordable trek for relatively older people in good shape—which is our case (I’m 72 myself). I have to say upfront that we found it quite challenging, maybe because we didn’t have good weather—it was the end of the monsoon season. To be clear, no matter your fitness level, I’d say doing this trek in the middle of the monsoon season would be suicidal.
Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi
On Monday, September 8th, there had been violent protests in Kathmandu against the government, which had, among other things, blocked access to social media and been accused of nepotism and corruption. There were 19 deaths. The situation was very tense on the day of our departure, Wednesday the 10th. The agency warned us that public transport was very unreliable. So, we decided to take a jeep, at an additional cost of $100 ($160 minus what was already budgeted for the bus).
We left a little before 7 a.m. and it took us a good hour just to reach the outskirts of Kathmandu. Along the way, we saw several houses and vehicles set on fire by protesters.
The road to Syapru Besi is only 120 km, but it’s frankly awful. It’s always narrow, winds through endless mountains, and the shoulders range from bad to confusing to nonexistent. Several sections are just dirt tracks. We didn’t regret opting for the jeep, as we could stop several times at our convenience—if only to let Y (my Thai partner) throw up everything she had. She’d taken her usual motion sickness medication, but the constant turns, accelerations, and braking eventually made her terribly carsick.
In Nuwakot, we stopped for breakfast at a nice little restaurant, Jimbu. It was around 8:30 a.m., and we’d barely covered 60 km. The restaurant has a lovely garden overlooking the Trishuli Ganga, the river flowing down from Syapru Besi. First photo: the river in the bottom right corner, mist and clouds over the mountain on the other side.
An hour later, my second photo: the hills along the Trishuli Ganga. You can see the different crops—lush green rice paddies in the lower right and corn, already yellowed and likely harvested, in the foreground on the left. And of course, the mist and clouds through which you can glimpse the mountain on the other side of the river.
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!
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Our first stop was just a few kilometers from Marrakech, at a lovely house perfect for relaxing and recharging before continuing. It’s called Bleu House, a little paradise on the outskirts of Marrakech. The welcome was very warm, with a beautiful pool and a lovely garden.
Next, we headed toward the Tichka Pass. The road has really improved in recent years—it’s much easier to drive now. No more getting stuck behind trucks, and today, the construction is practically finished.
Morocco has turned green after the recent rains. It’s a joy for the herds and shepherds.
I hesitated about writing this travel journal...
This summer, we only did the classics (the 3 northern parks and Zanzibar) and let a local agency take care of everything from start to finish.
No craziness, no risks, no sleeping under the stars, no self-drive, no venturing off the beaten path, no incidents, and not even any delays in the pre-planned itinerary...
But don’t think we were disappointed!
The whole family (there were 6 of us) came back with smiles and memories of great moments spent together.
So, if you're looking for a "classic" way to discover Tanzania, this is the place to be.
Our 2-week itinerary:
- Arusha (1 night upon arrival)
- Tarangire (1 night)
- Ngorongoro (2 nights in Karatu then Irmisigiyo)
- Serengeti (3 nights in Robanda, Togoro Plains, and Seronera)
- Zanzibar Stone Town (1 night)
- Zanzibar Matemwe (3 nights)
- Zanzibar Jambiani (3 nights)
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions...
So, now that I've just finished my Japan travel journal here, I figured it was high time to honor this destination we came back from so enchanted.
Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some!
Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!
I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to include fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to take her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can slip away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!
Anyway, since I love maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red); we only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband’s newly retired, I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.
In broad strokes, it was very classic:
First, we “settled in” at Luang Prabang (8 days), because we wanted and needed to.
From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we know, distances aren’t just about km!
Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4,000 Islands while stopping by the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites.
We wrapped up with the Bolaven Plateau.
A few practical notes: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having picked up our luggage in Bangkok to check it in for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized.
We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. Quick, but to be fair, we were on a “small” plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too crowded in line!
At the end of our trip, we didn’t fly out of Paksé but from the nearby airport in Thailand, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), then Bangkok and Paris.
You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the (Chinese) train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!
With that intro out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter.
To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang
It’s an ancient city that breathes, a living spring.
Here, no kitschy signs like “I miss you in Fengyu,” nor mass-produced fake antiques.
The century-old houses still bear the marks of wind and rain; in the morning, you hear roosters crowing, and at dusk, smoke gently rises from the kitchens.
This city doesn’t try to please anyone—like the spring water flowing through it, it simply keeps living at its own pace.
Located in Eryuan County, in the Dali Prefecture of Yunnan, the ancient town of Fengyu is a nationally designated historical and cultural city. It’s nicknamed the “land of scholars and ink”—during the Qing Dynasty, the Fengxiang Academy produced four *jinshi* and eleven *juren* in the imperial examinations. The Bai families made studying and farming a true legacy. Even on market days, you’ll find stalls of calligraphy and paintings, while lintels and screen walls are covered with family mottos.
Fengyu was also an important stop on the ancient Tea Horse Road. It preserves the second-largest Bai architectural complex in China, just after Xizhou. The famous traveler Xu Xiake spent seven days here and compared it to the “peach blossom paradise.”
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area).
In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
2- Around San Pedro
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those stunning doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a touch of saffron, and occasionally rosewater.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (during the week and daytime; colors are more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you’ll see some men dressed in Western clothes, they’re very few. The white dishdasha is truly the shared attire of all men. The dishdasha, which has no hood, is distinguished by a small pom-pom attached to the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go overboard with it! "It smells like the pom-pom" is an expression that’s now part of our shared language, my husband and I.
Another must of men’s attire is the kuma, a small round head covering, usually white with brightly colored patterns. The keffiyeh is also worn (but without the cord called an agal in Arab countries), and it’s mostly worn by those with roots in the desert, from what I understood.
And what about the women, you might ask? Some are veiled, some in full black (but not a burka—more like a chador + abaya), due to the influence of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, whereas the traditional outfit used to be a layering of very colorful dresses. Most of the women we saw wore neutral clothing, a plain veil over their hair, but with their faces uncovered. We also saw many saris and colorful veils—don’t forget that 40% of the population consists of Indian, Nepalese, and Bangladeshi immigrants, who work a lot in tourism, hospitality, restaurants, services, and construction.
Just to clarify, as a tourist, there’s no pressure to wear a veil, and never any disapproving looks. Of course, you’ll save the mini shorts, plunging necklines, bare shoulders, and midriffs for the hotel terrace—but I’d say that’s the same for men and women, and with the sun being strong, it’s better for your skin too.
Here’s the introduction! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.
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.
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
