Noël en Islande ("Jól"), c'est vraiment particulier : il n'y a pas un Père Noël, comme chez nous, mais treize ! Et ils sont tous plus bizarres les uns que les autres ...
A partir du treizième jour avant Noël, ils descendent chacun à leur tour des Bláfjöll (les Montagnes Bleues, non loin de Reykjavík) où ils habitent, et viennent visiter les gens.
Le premier va donc venir cette nuit, et c'est pour ça que je vous préviens !
Pendant les treize nuits qui nous séparent de la nuit de Noël, chacun d'eux dépose un petit cadeau dans la chaussure des enfants sages ... ou bien une vieille pomme de terre ridée dans celle des enfants qui n'ont pas été sages.
Il parait que parfois ça marche même pour les adultes ! ( ... oui ... la vieille pomme de terre aussi ... )
Ces Pères Noël islandais (Jólasveinar) ont des petits noms qui évoquent leurs facéties : Le premier s'appelle Stekkjarstaur (Jambes raides). Il tente par tous les moyens de traire les brebis pour boire leur lait. Mais les brebis n'ont pas de lait en hiver, ou très peu, alors il met la pagaille dans les bergeries ! C'est lui qui va passer cette nuit. Si vous n'avez pas de bergerie attenante à votre studio ou à votre appartement, pas de souci, donc !
Le second, Giljagaur (Voleur de ruisseau) a plutôt une addiction pour la crème du lait des vaches. Par conséquent, demain soir, planquez la Noiraude ! Le troisième, Stúfur (Court sur pattes) gratte soigneusement ce qui reste dans les poëles à frire. Soyez sympas après-demain, ne vous servez pas de la Tefal ... Le quatrième, Thvörusleikir (Lècheur de cuillère en bois) porte bien son nom : si on laisse une cuillère sale dans la cuisine, on est sûr de la retrouver parfaitement "nettoyée" le lendemain matin ! Bon, on le pardonne car il est très maigre ! Le cinquième, Pottasleikir (Lècheur de casserole) fait de même avec les casseroles et marmites en tous genres. Pas besoin de programmer le lave-vaisselle le soir où il passe ! Le sixième, Askasleikir (Lècheur de gamelles) se cache sous un meuble et va manger le contenu de la gamelle du chat ou du chien pendant qu'ils dorment. Le septième, Hurðaskellir (Claqueur de portes) s'introduit dans les maisons et s'amuse à faire du bruit pour empêcher les gens de dormir. Le huitième, Skyrgámur (Goinfre de skyr) avale tout le skyr (fromage blanc maigre) qu'il peut trouver. Le neuvième, Bjúgnakrækir (Voleur de saucisses), vole toutes les saucisses qu'il peut dénicher dans le réfrigérateur. Le dixième, Gluggagægir (Curieux voyeur) espionne par les fenêtres, entre dans les maisons, va dans les chambres des enfants et vole les jouets qui lui plaisent. Le onzième, Gáttaþefur (Renifleur aux portes) a un gros nez, il renifle l'odeur des gâteaux et vole ceux qui sentent bon. Le douzième, Ketkrókur (Crocheteur de viandes) essaie de voler toute la viande qu'il peut attraper avec son crochet. Enfin le dernier, Kertasníkir (Souffleur de bougies) vient la nuit de Noël. Il joue à souffler les bougies pour plonger les maisons dans le noir (les parents peuvent mettre à profit son passage pour disposer les cadeaux autour du sapin ... mais chuttt ... ! ça, il ne faut pas le dire !) Les noms des treize Pères Noël sont issus d'un recueil de contes populaires publié en 1862 par Jón Árnason, mais ces dernières années, d'autres Pères Noël viennent parfois augmenter la petite troupe ...
Ainsi, Mesdames, méfiez vous en traversant les passages ventés des rues de Reykjavík : Faldafeykir (le souleveur de jupes) n'attend que ça pour dévoiler vos dessous ...
Et quand vous faites vos achats de Noël, si vous dépassez les limites du raisonnable, vous risquez de devoir affronter le plus moderne de tous, peut-être le plus redoutable : Kortaklettar ... le coupeur de carte bancaire !
Dans la tradition islandaise, ces étranges Pères Noël sont issus d'une drôle de famille : leur mère est une ogresse extrêmement méchante qui s'appelle Grýla et leur père est un gros paresseux bon à rien nommé Leppalúði.
Autrefois, on faisait tellement peur aux enfants en les menaçant de Grýla que le Parlement islandais a du voter une loi pour interdire de le faire !
Le chat de la famille de Grýla (Jólaköttur) est aussi une terreur : la nuit de Noël, il peut venir voler des enfants pour les manger. Mais il connait ses limites : il ne peut voler que les enfants qui ne portent pas un habit neuf. C'est la raison pour laquelle les enfants reçoivent toujours un vêtement neuf pour Noël !
Le repas traditionnel des islandais pour Noël se compose le plus souvent d'une soupe à la viande ("Kjötsúpa"), d'agneau fumé (hangikjöt), d'une perdrix des neiges (rjúpa) ou d'une oie rotie, le tout accompagné de pommes de terre au caramel ...
Merci, cher Chris, pour ce joli post...!!
Tu es vraiment incollable sur l'Islande...y compris pour les légendes....on va être vigilant dans les jours à venir !!!
Joyeux Noël à toi et Marie-Françoise....ainsi qu'à tous les votres.
Domi et sa famille
PS : Et Vienne?
La plus perdue des journées est celle où l'on n'a pas ri.
Les pieds sur terre, ces derniers temps, je ne croyais plus au Père Noël et voilà que tu nous en présentes 13 ! Tous plus délirants les uns que les autres, il n'en faut pas plus pour me faire reprendre le chemin des rêves... On ne sait jamais, on ne sait jamais...
Allo DeCléricy ? Qu'est-ce que ton Père Noël canadien pense des 13 Pères Noël islandais 🙂🙂 ?
Merci Chris pour ce conte étrange et facécieux.
Dolma
un chemin et la caresse du vent, alors je pars en voyage...
Merci Chris de nous faire rentrer de plein pied dans Noël avec ce joli conte et coutumes du pays du froid ....... mais qui réchauffe bien nos coeurs en ce mois de décembre .... bon, je surveille le sixième jour, car avec cinq chats à la maison jai du souci à me faire ....... 😉
Bonnes fêtes à tous deux et à trés bientôt de vous revoir .....
Merci Chris pour cette intrusion dans la vie des islandais, mais tu ne parles pas des mères Noël, tu sais les épouses des pères Noël, y en a t'il treize aussi? 😉
Non, Gérard, ces treize Pères Noël n'ont pas d'épouses, il n'y a pas de "Mères Noël" ! ... ils ont seulement une mère, la terrible ogresse Grýla 🏴☠️ !
Mais attention, ce n'est pas de la blague tout ça, ce n'est pas seulement un conte !
Depuis avant-hier, chaque matin la presse islandaise relate où et comment le Père Noël de la nuit précédente a été repéré ... Dès le réveil, toute l'Islande se précipite sur le journal pour savoir ... la radio en parle aussi !
Ainsi, ce matin, Icelandreview a publié un reportage disant que Giljagaur (le 2ème Père Noël, celui qui veut toujours se goinfrer de crème de lait), s'était introduit en pleine nuit dans une grande laiterie du Sud de l'Islande et avait débranché un énorme tuyau à la sortie d'une cuve de lait. La pression a été telle que le malheureux Giljagaur a été projeté au fond du hangar par le flot de lait et s'est enfui à travers champs, complètement trempé de lait et de crème fouettée, manquant de peu mourir de froid lorsque ses vêtements ont gelé sur lui avant qu'il puisse regagner son repaire !
Heureusement, cet incident s'est produit en fin de nuit, alors que sa tournée de distribution de cadeaux à travers tout le pays était faite ! Ouf !
Vous voyez bien que c'est vrai ... puisque c'est écrit dans le journal !
(😉 comme disait ma grand-mère ...)
🙂13 pères Noel ??????......mais alors il faut écrire 13 lettres pour les envoyer à chaque père Noel pour commander nos cadeaux !!!!!!!!............peut on faire des photocopies ???😏😏😏😏
Heureux qui, comme Lahaut, a fait un beau voyage !
100 photos de Birmanie, Yemen, Ethiopie, Namibie, Philippines, Bolivie, Inde, Tanzanie, Indonésie, Ouzbékistan-Turkménistan, Oman, Madagascar, Nouvelle Zélande, Bulgarie
https://get.google.com/albumarchive/114337581313320762314
Lorsque l'on est dans les fermes le soir pour l'étape du jour, il y a cette espèce de je ne sais quoi qui donne une impression de surnaturel. Dans ce pays rempli de Trolls, les contes sont très accrochés, même sur les mûrs dans les chambres 😉, d'où peut être cette impression que j'ai parfaitement ressenti. Et puis nous restons de grands enfants donc il faut croire aux contes, à défaut du papi Noël.
ne le dis à personne, je crois c'est moi Skyrgámur ( Goinfre de skyr ) . Lors de mes séjours islandais, je rapporte 50 skyr ( dans ma glacière ) que je déguste à raison de 4 à ... par jour en pensant à ma chère Islande .
Pourriez-vous me mettre en contact avec le Père Pottasleikir, j'aimerais lui soumettre une offre plutôt alléchante: un emploi à plein temps dans le Sud de l'Inde. Bien évidemment, il pourra rentrer en Islande pour les fêtes de fin d'année, s'il le souhaite... Mais dites-lui que nous serions aussi très heureux de l'avoir pour Noël.
Si j'ai bien compris, il doit vous rendre visite ce soir, dimanche 17. Vous pourrez alors lui transmettre mes coordonnées: Lukasks@voyageforum.com
😉 J'ai fait passer ton offre d'emploi à Pottasleikir (le lècheur de casserole), mais je crains qu'il ne soit guère attiré par le Sud de l'Inde (même s'il y a de belles casseroles). En effet, dès qu'il fait plus de dix degrés, il se sent mal car il a très très chaud !
😇 Justement, Pottasleikir est passé cette nuit, mais il a eu des problèmes et ce matin, bien entendu, la presse islandaise en parle :
"Pottasleikir est descendu en ville dans la nuit. Il s'est introduit dans une maison dont il avait appris que les occupants avaient fait hier soir un plat qui avait fortement "attaché" au fond de la casserole ... Mais ces gens avaient mis leur casserole à tremper dans l'évier, recouverte de liquide-vaisselle. Le malheureux Pottasleikir, n'écoutant que sa gourmandise, a gratté le fond et s'est intoxiqué avec le liquide-vaisselle qui imprègnait la délicieuse croute attachée au fond !
🤪 Fortement nauséeux, il est passé ensuite à l'hôpital de Reykjavík pour demander des soins ... On lui a administré un anti-vomitif et un traitement anti-poison, après quoi il a pu - heureusement ! - continuer sa tournée de distribution de cadeaux ...
Interwievé par notre reporter sur son lit d'hôpital, il a déclaré tout confus : "Je pensais que j'allais me régaler ... ! Comment aurais-je pu savoir que ce liquide vert n'était pas comestible ?"
Pottasleikir est bien connu pour cette étrange manie de gratter le fond des casseroles. En plus des petits cadeaux qu'il laisse aux enfants, son passage est apprécié des parents à qui il évite une pénible corvée matinale !
Mais les Pères Noël islandais sont des personnages de tradition, et la modernité leur échappe complètement ! En tout cas, Pottasleikir a déclaré en quittant l'hôpital qu'il se méfierait désormais de tout ce qui trempe dans un liquide vert !
Ahhh oui ... Askasleikir (le lècheur de gamelles) est venu la nuit dernière et lui aussi a eu des mésaventures !
Ce matin dans la presse islandaise, il y avait un reportage à son sujet, je te livre tel quel (la radio aussi en a parlé à l'heure du petit-déjeuner) :
"Cette nuit vers une heure du matin les sirènes d'alarme du musée national de Reykjavík ont retenti. Les forces de police ont accouru immédiatement sur les lieux, pensant à une tentative de cambriolage ...
Quelle ne fut pas leur surpris de se trouver face à face avec ce pauvre Askasleikir, tout confus de se trouver pris dans une situation aussi embarrassante !
Emmené au poste de police, le malheureux Père Noël a tout avoué : il a dit que depuis quelques années il en avait assez de lècher des gamelles en verre ou même de plus en plus souvent en plastique, et qu'il avait la nostalgie du passé ...
Alors il s'était dit que ça serait bien s'il pouvait lècher une de ces gamelles en bois qu'on utilisait autrefois en Islande dans les fermes pour manger la soupe ... Ce sont des gamelles individuelles qui faisaient un bon litre, avec un couvercle à charnière pour garder la soupe au chaud pendant qu'on la mangeait ... Voilà, elles sont très jolies, ces gamelles, mais bien sûr personne ne les utilise plus aujourd'hui ...
Alors ce pauvre Askasleikir s'est dit qu'il en trouverait peut-être au musée national de Reykjavík ... Il a pu s'introduire dans le musée sans trop de difficultés, mais lorsqu'il a ouvert la vitrine dans laquelle sont exposées ces superbes gamelles, il a déclanché l'alarme et les policiers l'ont trouvé sur place, terrorisé par les hurlements des sirènes, une gamelle historique à la main !
Mais faute avouée est à moitié pardonnée ... on dit ça aussi en Islande ... Alors les policiers l'ont emmené à leur cantine où il restait un peu de soupe du repas du soir, ils la lui ont versé dans la gamelle en bois et notre brave Askasleikir a pu se régaler en retrouvant les sensations de sa jeunesse ...
Notre reporter précise quand même que les policiers l'ont sévèrement réprimandé pour son effraction nocturne dans le musée ... Askasleikir tout confus a promis de ne plus recommencer, à condition qu'on le laisse repartir libre pour qu'il puisse finir sa tournée de distribution de cadeaux avant l'aube. Avant d'être policiers, les policiers islandais ont été des enfants ... alors bien entendu ils ont passé l'éponge ! (par contre pas besoin de passer l'éponge dans la gamelle en bois, Askasleikir l'avait laissée hyper-propre !)"
Pfft ... C'est dûr d'être un Père Noël islandais de nos jours !
Si tu vois Huroaskellir peux tu lui dire de cesser de claquer les portes . Que ce soit celle de la porte d’entrée qui laisse passer le froid, celles des chambres qui grincent ou celle du frigo ( je le soupçonne d'être accompagné par Askasleikir ( lécheur de gamelles) & Pottasleikir ( lécheur de casserole), il mène un potin du diable et personne ne dort .
Les voisins sont tous sur le pas de leur porte, qui avec le fusil, qui avec le gourdin, qui avec le chien tous crocs dehors, pour lui faire sa fête .
Si j'ai bien suivi, cette nuit c'est le claqueur de portes qui fait sa tournée?
J'ai donc décroché les miennes et je termine à pas d'heure, quelle suée!
Craignant toutefois la susceptibilité du barbu qui ne manquerait pas de lui souffler quelque représaille dans le creu de la comprenette, j'ai pris la précaution d'apposer des panneaux "attention peinture TRES fraîche!" sur chaque porte entreposée entre la précédente et la suivante, souvent plus près de la dernière que de la première - ou vice versa!
A Zeus vat!
"le silence des pantoufles est plus terrifiant que le bruit des bottes"
Bonjour Chris!
A ma grande surprise ce matin, j'ai entendu parler d'Hurdaskellir, le claqueur de portes...
On m'a dit que, contrairement à ses frères, il ne s'était pas rendu à Reykjavik la nuit dernière. Il serait allé dans une petite ville, à l'est du pays, qui s'appelle Seydisfjördur...
Que s'est-il passé?
Oui, j'ai appris moi aussi que Hurðaskellir (le claqueur de portes) s'était fait remarquer la nuit dernière à Seydisfjörður ...
Dans ce petit port des fjords de l'Est, il parait que personne n'a pu fermer l'oeil de la nuit ! Après avoir déposé des friandises dans les chaussures des enfants, Hurðaskellir a passé le reste de la nuit à claquer les portes avec la plus belle énergie !
Le correspondant local de Icelandreview, réveillé comme tout le monde, lui a tendu son micro, et ce satané Hurðaskellir lui a déclaré :
"Ben oui, je suis content d'être venu ici, à Seydisfjörður ! Je préfère claquer les portes dans les petites villes, c'est nettement plus sympa que dans la capitale, et puis ici les gens se couchent tôt, j'en ai donc davantage à réveiller, c'est plus marrant ! Les portes aussi sont beaucoup mieux ici qu'à Reykjavík, ce sont de bonnes vieilles portes en bois, bien lourdes, qui font un bruit terrible quand on les claque ! Vlaaaouuummm !!! Ha ha ha ! ha ha ha !
L'an dernier, j'étais allé claquer les portes à Reykjavík ... J'ai essayé de claquer les portes automatiques dans le grand centre commercial Kringlan, vous savez, ces drôles de portes en verre ... Et bien j'ai honte de vous le dire mais je n'y suis pas arrivé ! Vous vous rendez compte ? Moi, un spécialiste ! Echec complet ! Ces fichues portes s'écartaient toutes seules dès que j'approchais ! Tout ce que j'ai réussi à faire, c'est de coincer la queue de Jólaköttur (le chat de Grýla) qui m'avait suivi ! Bon, heureusement, j'avais quand même pu faire ma distribution de cadeaux aux enfants ... mais le directeur du centre commercial Kringlan, lui, je lui avais mis une vieille patate pourrie dans sa chaussure ! Ha ha ha ! ha ha ha ! "
🤪 Ce matin à Seydisfjörður, on ne comptait plus les gens en retard au travail et les enfants absents à l'école ... Grasse matinée pour tous ceux qui n'avaient pas pu fermer l'oeil de la nuit à cause de ce farceur d'Hurðaskellir !
... ne le dis à personne, je crois c'est moi Skyrgámur (Goinfre de skyr). Lors de mes séjours islandais, je rapporte 50 skyr (dans ma glacière ) que je déguste à raison de 4 à ... par jour en pensant à ma chère Islande.
😉 Hé Timouss !!! Que fais-tu cette nuit ... au lieu de dormir sagement ???
Trop, c’est trop .
Y’en a marre
Grýla & Leppalúði ont vraiment mal élevé leurs 13 Jólasveinar ( lutins de Noël ) .
Après le barouf d’hier, voilà qu’aujourd’hui Skyrgámur a pillé ma réserve de skyr dans le frigo .
J’espère qu’il va se choper une bonne indigestion & qu’il se tiendra tranquille jusqu’à l’an prochain !!!
Bon, je te laisse, je vais faire une razzia chez Bonus & à 1011, je décroche la petite cuillère et je me goinfre de mon skyr préféré ( le problème, c’est qu’ils sont tous mes préférés ) .
Je suis désolée de ce qui arrive à Skyrgámur .
Je lui avais souhaité une bonne indigestion, sur un coup de colère, mais il ne mérite tout de même pas une hospitalisation .
Espérons que la peinture n’était pas toxique & qu’il s’en remettra vite .
L’an prochain, c’est promis, je lui garde toute une étagère de skyr pour lui tout seul .
Cette nuit, si Bjúgnakrækir vient chez moi, il en sera pour ses frais, car il n’y a aucune saucisse à la maison .
🏴☠️ Dis donc ! Tu lui a joué un sale tour, quand même !
🤪 Le pauvre Skyrgámur (Goinfre de skyr) est encore très malade ce soir ...
Il faut dire pour nos amis de VF qui ne sont pas allés en Islande que le skyr, c'est incroyablement bon ! C'est une sorte de fromage blanc maigre, fabriqué avec le petit lait et des ferments particuliers qu'on ne trouve que là-bas.
Pour moi, le skyr, ça évoque des souvenirs forts parce que lors de mon premier voyage en Islande en juillet 1974 ( ... oui 😉 ... je sais ... à l'époque où Jésus Christ était jeune homme ... ok !), tout mon budget était passé dans le billet d'avion, je campais sauvage et je n'avais pas un sou pour me nourrir ...
Alors je l'avoue (aujourd'hui il y a prescription !) : en longeant les routes à pied, je trouvais souvent au bout des chemins de fermes de gros bidons en aluminium de 20 ou 30 litres remplis de skyr que les fermiers avaient déposé là pour que le camion de la coopérative les ramasse.
Dans ces immensités désertes, c'était bien tentant de prélever à la surface du bidon un bon kilo de skyr dont je me goinfrais avec du sucre et des corn-flakes (les seules choses que je me payais).
😉 Bien sûr, ni vu ni connu, avec mon couteau je reconstituais la surface lisse du fromage dans le bidon avant de remettre le couvercle, et ça ne s'y connaissait même pas !
🏴☠️ Mmmouais ... Que ceux qui n'ont jamais eu faim à 23 ans me jettent la première pierre ...
Depuis je suis resté totalement accro à cette friandise laitière ! (😉 à la différence que maintenant je l'achète ... )
Mais je ne suis pas le seul à être accro : parmi les skyro-dépendants grâââves, il y a Timouss ! Elle en rapporte des dizaines de pots quand elle va en Islande, et son frigo en est carrément bourré !
Alors la nuit dernière, Skyrgámur s'est dit que pour changer un peu de son pays natal, il allait faire une petite virée en France car il avait appris qu'une certaine Timouss avait un stock de sa friandise préférée. En plus il avait vu dans VF qu'elle habite en "Ile de France" et il avait trouvé ça sympa de visiter une autre île ... lui qui est aussi un îlien !
Mais Timouss a des travaux chez elle en ce moment, elle refait sa déco, et le malheureux Skyrgámur a mangé tout le contenu d'un pôt de peinture blanche épaisse qui traînait par là dans l'entrée, croyant que c'était du skyr !
Bien sûr, il a un peu hésité devant le goût, mais il s'est dit que ce "skyr français" était finalement plutôt bon ...
Le ventre plein, il est vite reparti (par téléportation) en Islande pour finir sa distribution de cadeaux, mais en fin de nuit il a été pris de violentes nausées ... évoluant rapidement en gerbes furieuses !
Rendu (c'est le cas de le dire !) à l'hôpital de Reykjavik, les médecins de garde ont dû lui pomper la peinture restante dans son estomac dilaté (il paraît qu'ils en ont tiré de quoi repeindre la moitié de l'hôpital !)
Ce soir, Skyrgámur va mieux. Encore un peu vaseux il a déclaré au micro de notre reporter : "Comment aurais-je pu savoir que les français repeignent leur appartement avec du skyr ?"
🤪 Bon ... je crois qu'il n'a rien compris, ce pauvre Skyrgámur !
Enfin, l'important c'est qu'il ait bien fait sa distribution de cadeaux en Islande !
😛 Au fait, Timouss ? Tu n'as pas trouvé une vieille patate pourrie dans ta chaussure ce matin ?
non seulement j'ai trouvé une patate pourrie mais aussi de nombreuses traces de peinture dans toute la maison . Un instant, j'ai voulu accuser mon mari, mais la pointure ne correspondait pas .
Lorsque je suis revenue du commissariat déclarer le vol & les dégradations, j'ai reçu un coup de fil de l'hopital de Reykjavik me demandant la composition de la peinture, car Skyrgámur était au plus mal .
Tout s'est bien terminé pour lui, il va beaucoup mieux ce soir, la preuve, il a demandé à Bjúgnakrækir de lui rapporter une saucisse !!!
Tu m'as ouvert des horizons avec ton histoire de bidons de skyr, je pensais qu'il s'agissait tout bêtement de lait, comme chez nous .
Lorsque je vais y aller en Février, je vais subtiliser le bidon entier ( en cette saison, ça va être congelé ????? )
Chris, continue à nous faire rêver avec tes histoires de lutins, tu n'as pas perdu ton âme d'enfant ( & nous non plus ) .
Dringgggggg……. Dringgggg…….
‘’L’abonné que vous tentez de rejoindre est dans l’impossibilité de vous répondre. Veuillez essayer un peu plus tard’’……… bzzzzzz
…………..…………..
Plus tard, bein plus tard.
Tamtalam-tamlan-taml…. Pif! Paf! Pouf!…. Pouet! et RetePouet!! … (la sonnerie perso de DeCléricy)
- Oui? Allo! …
- DeCléricy? Cé l’Père Noël! … Ho! Ho! Ho! … T’as appelé? Ton numéro est sur l’afficheur!
- Salut bonhomme! … Aye j’en ai une bonne pour toé! … J’sé pas si tu vas m’crère, mais y paraîtrait qu’en Islande y’ont treize Pères Noël!
- Ho! Ho! ... Voyons donc! … ça s’peut quasiment pas!
- J’te l’dis! … cé écrit sur Internet…. Ça doit être vrai? !!!
- Ho! Ho! Ho! … n'importe quoi! Pis lé tits nenfants y craillent-tu à ça?
- Cé sur! … dur comme fer. Même qu’y zont peur d’la Mére! Une sorte de femme acariâtre qui aurait accouché de toute la traulée.
- Ho! Ho! … Imagine l’écurie toé! … Treize attelages de caribous pour haler lé traîneaux! … Pis lé treize qui passent toute par lés cheminés? … Lés ramoneurs …. y doivent être sur le RMI par là bas! … Ho! Ho! Ho! … Bein coudonc … Treize! ??? … Attends une minute! … Ça serions tu qu’yaurait treize Fées des étoiles itou? … Oh! Oh! .. ??
- Ça j’le cé pas … Mais lés Péres Noël eux autres cé dé torrieux!
- Comment ça?
- Bein… y’ont chacun quétchose de spécial genre. Y’en a un qui vole le baloné dans l’frigo, pis un autre qui liche la gamelle du chat, pis un autre encore qui tète le crémage comme un p’tit veau du printemps. Dés affaires de même comme… Ah pis y’en a un autre itou qui fait bein du barda pis qui empêche le monde de dormir à c’qui parait!
- Là tu t’trompes DéCléricy! Ça cé un beau-frère bein saoul! … Ho! Ho! Ho!
- En tout cas y m’semble que ça donne bein du fil à r’tordre aux habitants d’après lés écritures que j’ai lues!
- T’as pas à t’en faire DeCléricy. Cé dés histouères locales. Ya juste un vrai Père Noël pis cé moé. Ho! Ho! Ho!
- Ah j’m’en fait pas pantoute! En seul’ment le monde y’ont pas l’air de savouère la différence! Icitte au Canada on sait toute ça qu’té l’vrai Père Noël. Pas besoin d’en avoir treize! Tu comprends?
- Cé ça qu’yé l’fun DeCléricy. Ça crée d’l’agrément pis ça amuse lés tits nenfants… pis lés grands itou! Ho! Ho! Bon bein là faut que j’te laisse. J’ai ma liste dés étrennes à finir moé! Noël s’en vient pis j’en ai pas mal à livrer! Ça comprend l’Islande pis bein d’autres pays en plusse! Ho! Ho! Ho!
- OK j’te laisse travailler. Oublie pas de donner un gros bec à Fée des étoiles pour moé!
- J’y manquerai pas mon homme! À la r’voyure. Ho! Ho! Ho!
- T’oublis pas hein? Un beau bec!
- J’y vas drè là! Ho! Ho! Ho! ……………Fée des étoiles? … Viens icitte! Ya DeCléricy qui veut que j’t’embrasse bein fort!........... clic... bzzzzzzz
- Cré Père Noël! ………bzzzzz
DeCléricy
J’en appelle à vous ô Muses
Où tant ma vie passe et s’use
Qu’encore et toujours j’aime
Mes soeurs Galère et Bohème
DeClériy, Timouss, Chris 51 un instant de pur bonheur à vous lire😏😏😏. Je crois que ce soir je vais aller farfouillet dans ma bibliothèque, voir si je retrouve mon livre sur les lettres au Père Noel de Tolkien, oui celui du seigneur des anneaux, c'est aussi un chef d'oeuvre d'humour.
😉 Et oui, Zabinouk, pendant qu'on cause, le défilé quotidien des Pères Noël continue en Islande ... !
Dans la nuit de mercredi à jeudi, c'est Bjúgnakrækir (le voleur de saucisses) qui est venu en ville ! Celui là est un vrai fou de saucisses, il peut en manger des mètres et des mètres, rien ne peut le rassasier ...
En pleine nuit, entre deux distributions de cadeaux, il a fait une descente au supermarché Bonus mais il a été très déçu de ne trouver que des saucisses groupées par quatre, avec une peau extrêmement dure et transparente ... Il avait beau mordre dedans, impossible de percer cette peau avec ses dents !
Le veilleur de nuit a essayé de lui expliquer que de nos jours, les saucisses sont toujours emballées sous plastique, il n'a rien voulu savoir !
"Des saucisses, Monsieur, j'en ai volé des dizaines de milliers depuis des siècles dans les fermes aux murs de tourbe et aux toits couverts d'herbe, et je me suis toujours régalé de les mordre à pleines dents et sans effort ! Ce n'est pas vous qui allez m'apprendre comment on fait pour manger des saucisses ! Plastique ... plastique ? ... je ne connais pas ce mot !"
😕 Et c'est ainsi que notre pauvre Bjúgnakrækir a continué sa distribution de cadeaux, de plus en plus affamé et en colère ... Mais heureusement, en fin de nuit, il a trouvé dans le centre de Reykjavik un de ces petits kiosques où on vend des "pylsur" !
Pylsur ... ? Il faut être allé en Islande pour connaître cette merveille de la gastronomie des vikings du 21ème siècle ! Une "pylsa" (le singulier de pylsur) c'est comme qui dirait un hot-dog, mais un hot-dog islandais : dans un petit pain allongé, tout mou et vaguement sucré, il y a une saucisse tubulaire à base de mouton (la "pylsa" proprement dite) avec des oignons frais, d'autres oignons frits, et une bonne dose de moutarde bien sucrée.
Bref : les pylsur disons-le franchement c'est dégueulasse ... sauf pour les Islandais bien sûr qui affirment que c'est un délice !
Et bien Bjúgnakrækir s'est littéralement jeté sur la baraque à pylsur et l'a complètement pillée en moins de dix minutes ! "Ahhh ! voilà enfin de bonnes saucisses" répètait-il la bouche pleine en riant, en dansant et en sautant autour du kiosque !
Le vendeur dévalisé de tout son stock n'a pas appelé la police, parce qu'il se souvenait que quand il était petit, Bjúgnakrækir passait dans sa maison la nuit du 20 décembre, volait les saucisses dans le frigo mais lui laissait toujours un petit cadeau ou une friandise dans ses souliers.
😛 Quant au directeur du supermarché Bonus, et bien ... vous vous en doutiez, non ? Il a trouvé une vieille patate pourrie dans sa chaussure le lendemain matin !
😉 Arrghhh ! Kamata ... et les autres, mille excuses mais j'ai reçu les journaux islandais avec un peu de retard !
Ce n'est donc que ce soir que j'apprends que Gluggagægir (le curieux voyeur) est passé un peu partout en Islande dans la nuit de jeudi à vendredi !
Ce Père Noël a une passion, une vraie folie, un vice devrait-on dire, en fait : il adore espionner les gens en regardant par les fenêtres des maisons. Mais que cherche-t-il ainsi, ce curieux mateur ?
En Islande il n'y a jamais de volets aux fenêtres, souvent il n'y a même pas de rideaux. Gluggagægir n'a pas de mal à repérer les jouets des enfants dans les chambres. Alors parfois il s'introduit dans la chambre, il prend des jouets, les met dans sa hotte et les emporte !
C'est un comble me direz-vous ... ! Pour un personnage qui est sensé distribuer des cadeaux aux enfants !!! C'est un "mauvais" Père Noël, allez vous penser ... Un Père Noël voleur de jouets ! C'est incroyable, ça !?
Et bien non, il n'est pas si mauvais que ça, Gluggagægir ! En fait, voyez vous, il ne prélève que les jouets que les enfants ont en double, ou bien ceux qui ne les intéressent plus, ou bien encore certains jouets appartenant à des enfants qui en ont trop ... oui, vraiment trop !!! ( ... oui, oui, ça existe, en Islande aussi !)
Il n'oublie pas quand même de laisser une petite friandise dans les chaussures, pour bien montrer qu'il est passé, mais l'important, c'est cette collecte malicieuse de jouets qu'il effectue trois jours avant Noël ...
😇 En effet, tous ces jouets seront distribuées le matin de Noël aux enfants défavorisés, enfants de familles dans le besoin, enfants des orphelinats ou des hôpitaux, des enfants à qui la vie sourit moins qu'aux autres ...
Ahhh ... vous voyez que Gluggagægir n'est pas si mauvais que ça ! Sous son apparence de pervers qui regarde par les fenêtres des gens, c'est même un vrai gentil, Gluggagægir, c'est un Père Noël au coeur d'or !
En fait, comme nos lecteurs l'ont compris, trois nuits avant Noël, Gluggagægir est bien pratique pour les parents ... L'Islande est un pays riche où les enfants sont rois, nombreux sont ceux qui sont trop gâtés et qui ont trop de jouets. Dans la nuit du 21 au 22 décembre, le passage bienvenu de Gluggagægir permet de prélever certains jouets pendant que les enfants dorment. Le 22 et le 23, ces jouets sont apportés à des associations caritatives qui assurent leur redistribution le matin de Noël aux enfants défavorisés ... Pas mal, comme idée, non ?
😊 Mais Chutttt ! ... pas un mot aux petits !
Nous sommes passés par l'agence 66° Nord qui s'est chargé de réserver avion, gesthouse et 4x4. Le carnet fourni par l'agence est plutôt complet. Nous avions…
Mon premier voyage en Islande, en 1974. Oui, vous serez peut-être étonnés: mon premier voyage en Islande remonte à juillet 1974. Cela fait un peu plus que 50…
Ah, l'Islande et nous, c'est une longue histoire, ou plutôt une longue attente... La première fois qu'on a envisagé y aller, c'était il y a déjà 7-8 ans, à la…
Elle voulait voir Auxerre, on a vu Auxerre Je voulais voir l'Espagne, on a vu l'Islande Comme toujours... Ainsi pourrait débuter cette aventure islandaise.…
Nous avons séjourné en Islande du 27 août au 13 septembre 2023. En fait, il s’agit de notre second séjour sur cette île. Lors de notre premier voyage, nous…
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.
Bonjour tout le monde, nous voici rentrés d'un RT USA organisé par nos soins du 31/07/2026 au 26/08/2026.
La destination : Le Sud-Ouest USA avec le Texas, l'Arizona et le Nouveau-Mexique. 7000 kilomètres effectués à la louche.
L'Auto : Une Chevrolet Equinoxe pour deux en passant par BSP Auto et Avis. Et dedans 2 valises, un sac de voyage, deux valises cabines, la glacière de chez Walmart, le matos photos et les bouteilles d'eau (pack de 40).
Le trajet : Dallas DFW, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Alpine, El Paso, Tucson, Sedona, Albuquerque, Amarillo et Dallas pour finir avec départ sur DFW.
Les voyageurs : Deux séniors bien avancés dans l'âge (73 et 75) mais toujours en activité (pas épuisante physiquement) (pour rester vivants et financer les voyages), autonomes physiquement à 100%, intellectuellement beaucoup moins, passionnés des USA, pays où tout est possible, plus marcheurs que randonneurs, plutôt hôtels à partir de 3 étoiles que motels de bord de route, plutôt restos Italiens que nourriture US, adeptes des arrêts fréquents pour les photos, plutôt musées que rien, Plutôt sieste que marches forcées. Pas trop râleurs, juste ce qu'il faut pour rester français au pays du grand Satan qu'ils disent.
Pas trés doués pour les langues, Anglais des rues (mais bien pratique), Espagnol nul pour moi hormis : " Hola ! Una Cerveza por Favor ! " Cela fait court. Madame comprend tout mais refuse de parler.
Le coût du RT : Environ 12 000 euros avec les vols AF, Auto, Essence, cadeaux, visites et tutti quanti. Bien maitrisé puisque 13500 euros prévus au départ.
Le bilan positif : Un régal avec les longues routes à perte de vue. Des Musées à découvrir. Le constat de la présence Hispanique et de son Histoire importante dans ce secteur de l'Amérique. Des locaux adorables. Des touristes plus ou moins sympas. Un accent Texan abominable et difficile à comprendre. Des stations Gas qui sont de véritables magasins avec nourriture préparée et autre alcools vendus en Arizona et Nouveau-Mexique et des employés au top ! Toujours prêts à rigoler !
Le bilan négatif : La chaleur tout au long du séjour...43° sur Dallas en fin de séjour. Impossible de sortir dans les rues. Beaucoup de "Homeless" dans les rues de l'Hyper Centre de Dallas. Les breakfasts Hôtel toujours les mêmes. On s'y fait.
Donc, positif certes mais le concept commence à fatiguer. Il se pourrait que le modèle RT autonome soit repensé pour le prochain. SI celui qui est en haut nous prête vie.
Pour la suite, attendons les premières photos triées et passées à la moulinette.
Le dernier carnet sur le Turkménistan date de 2019. Voici donc un court retour sur ce vaste pays désertique qui se visite un peu plus facilement qu'auparavant.
C'est mon premier carnet. Si vous avez des questions, n'hésitez pas. Le pays s'ouvre lentement mais il est possible de visiter des sites où vous serez tout seul. En 5 jours, j'ai vu 2 hongkongais, quelques allemands et un chilien au cratère, 10 chinois dans un bazar de la capitale, et c'est tout !
Il est possible de visiter le Turkménistan depuis l'Ouzbékistan. Le plus simple et le plus économique est de se rendre en taxi jusqu'à la frontière depuis Boukhara. Le trajet prend un peu plus d'une heure.
Le passage de la frontière est assez long puisque de nombreux Turkmènes ramènent des objets achetés en Ouzbékistan afin de pouvoir les revendre au Turkménistan. Par exemple des couches, des produits pour bébés ou des produits de beauté.
Il m'a fallu plus de 2h30 pour franchir la frontière. Il est obligatoire pour visiter le Turkménistan d'avoir un guide et de passer par une agence de voyage. Les agences britanniques proposent souvent des séjours de trois, cinq ou sept jours à plus de 1 500 ou 2 000 euros.
Mais si votre budget est plus limité, il vous suffit de contacter quelques agences turkmènes directement par mail qui vous feront une proposition entre 700 et 1 300 euros pour trois à sept jours. J'ai pris un séjour de 5 jours de Turkmenabat dans le Nord-Est du pays jusqu'à Dashoguz dans le Nord. L'objectif est de visiter les principaux sites classés à l'Unesco, dont Merv, et les sites archéologiques comme Nisa ou Gonur Tepe.
Votre guide sera également le chauffeur. Il viendra vous chercher à la frontière. Les formalités sont très longues car les douaniers doivent multiplier les tampons et l'obtention du visa que vous avez préalablement demandé à votre agence de voyage nécessite plusieurs contrôles. Mais le passage se fait relativement aisément même si chaque étape est assez longue.
Une fois de l'autre côté, première surprise, l'autoroute est très récente jusqu'à Turkmenabat. Une très longue file de camions s'étend sur plusieurs kilomètres du côté turkmène afin de pouvoir passer la frontière et aller en Ouzbékistan. En effet, selon mon guide, les camions turkmènes transportent du gaz, du coton (pas à cette saison puisque la récolte a lieu en septembre), mais ont surtout un réservoir plein car le prix du carburant est beaucoup moins cher au Turkménistan. Un plein pour une voiture vaut à peu près 3 euros, ce qui est défiant toute concurrence.
Depuis le poste frontière de Farap, l'objectif est d'atteindre la ville de Mary qui abrite dans sa banlieue, à une trentaine de kilomètres, le site classé à l'UNESCO de Merv. Cette cité est connue comme étant une fondation d'Alexandre le Grand au IVe siècle avant Jésus-Christ sous le nom d'Alexandrie de Margiane. Plusieurs forteresses sont visibles.
Après plus de trois heures de route, nous déjeunons dans un restaurant turc qui s'appelle Aladdin. Plusieurs citations du président sont visibles sur l'autoroute, mais la route est de qualité et on avance aisément. Ce sera de loin la meilleure route du pays. ça se gâtera largement par la suite.
Les ronds-points sont particulièrement intéressants puisqu'on y retrouve des emblèmes de la culture turkmène, soit le chien, soit un tapis, soit le cheval Ahal Teke soit des symboles musulmans, même si la présence d'artefacts islamiques est assez réduite.
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...
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.
When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”
This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...
Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.
Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!
La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.
Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.
Some practical info:
- The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side.
- We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €.
- The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen.
- Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day.
- Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.
Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!
If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!
Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with:
Zero preparation.
Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.
Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?
The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!
The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.
So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!
So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!
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
Il arrive souvent qu'on nous demande quoi visiter en Belgique .
Et les réponses ramènent le plus souvent à Bruges , Gand, Anvers et Bruxelles , avec raison , ces villes valant la peine d'être visitées 😉 .
Toutefois, la Belgique, bien que petite , ne se limite pas à ces 4 villes .
J'habite l'une d'entre elles ( Bruxelles) , passe avec plaisir du temps dans les trois autres , mais j'ai envie d'aborder d'autres coins moins connus , qui pourront compléter le séjour de ceux qui ont envie d'en voir un peu plus , ou de voir autre chose .
C'est qu'entre deux voyages , j'aime bien visiter l'un ou l'autre coin du pays où j'habite .
D'où l'idée d'un carnet de balades .
La plupart des endroits dont je vais parler peuvent être visités en faisant l'aller-retour le même jour , au départ de Bruxelles , que ce soit en transports en commun ou en voiture .
Dans l'ordre chronologique des sujets abordés :
- Le barrage de la Gileppe ( province de Liège) -message 2 , page 1
- Le domaine de La Hulpe ( Brabant wallon ) - message 3 , page 1
- Malines ( province d'Anvers ) message 4 , page 1
- La côte - message 5 , page 1
- Le Westhoek , au départ de La Panne - message 6 , page 1
- Le Zwin, au départ de Knokke - message 7 , page 1
- Lier ( entre Malines et Anvers ) - message 8 , page 1
- Mons (Hainaut) - message 9 , page 1
- La région de Florenville . - message 12 , page 1
- Les Cantons de l'Est - message 13 , page 1
- Dinant - message 18 , page 1
- Le jardin japonais d'Hasselt - message 24 , page 2
- Louvain message 29 , page 2
- Louvain-la-neuve - message 32 , page 2
- Ostende - message 42 (page 3) et message 166 (page 9)
- Les floralies de Grand-Bigard . - message 43 , page 3
- Le bois de Halle -message 44 , page 3
- Les pralines - message 54 , page 3
- Charleroi - message 68 , page 4
- Namur - message 92 , page 5
- Le Bois du Cazier ( Marcinelle) - message 95 , page 5
- Les couques et les gozettes - message 96 , page 5
- Liège - message 99 , page 5
- Tournai - message 115 , page 6 .
- Audenarde ( Oudenaarde ) - message 121, page 7
- Jardin botanique de Meise - message 124, page 7 .
- Tongres ( Tongeren ) - message 125 , page 7 .
- Château de Beersel ( Brabant flamand) - message 126, page 7 .
- Bruxelles confinée ( messages 150 et 154 , page 8 )
- L'hôpital Notre Dame à la Rose , à Lessines ( messages 161 et 162 , page 9 ) .
- Westende ( message 167, page 9)
je complète cette liste au fur et à mesure de l'avancement du carnet ...
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style.
All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert.
However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about it.
I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.
I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guardians for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course.
Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious.
Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons.
That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though? Much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been full of holes for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and enormous beast with its own garden. Yet it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water there for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not just for fun—these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
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.
This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rental options kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!
The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan?
Not in the end.
The south or not the south?
Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or go with the flow?
Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela about this destination (the guide has been updated since).
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You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek!
(Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
You’ll find here a post with some practical information.
And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.
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As a supplement, the route track.
Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...
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!!!
January 2026
Here we go again for new adventures and the pleasure of sharing them with you here! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me with the preparations, even with some last-minute improvisations just days before departure. Thanks to Montagnard74, Jojoone1, Songsam, Attila, Dennis2, NadegerFERM, and the authors whose travel journals about Laos inspired me (Montagnard74, Muriel18, Mavietongs...).
In this story, written by Richard and illustrated by me, we’ll tell you about the journey of four friends: Catherine, Richard, Nathalie, and Bruno. A reinvented but overall successful trip, filled with discoveries and surprises, the scents of spices and frangipani flowers, (too) spicy food, sunsets, and... one big mess.
Preamble:
Africa was calling to me, so a year ago, with our usual travel companions, we decided to return to the continent we love so much.
Where to go?
Uganda quickly caught our attention—wildlife we’re used to seeing, plus gorillas and the shoebill we missed in Zambia.
We got in touch with Paul, who’s been mentioned several times on the forum back in September, booked our flight tickets, secured the gorilla permits, and by early October, the most important things were done.
We still had plenty of time to hold our "prep meetings" for the final itinerary.
Three days before departure, I sprained my ankle (my weak spot, as you’ll recall from our Colombia trip).
I wasn’t in great spirits, but after a year of waiting, nothing was going to stop me.
We’d see how it goes!
Off we went for our new adventures
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
I’d been wanting to discover Sulawesi for years. But then life happened—COVID, the cost of flight tickets, you name it. Long story short, years went by, but we finally set off as a family for a three-week trip in southern Sulawesi: Rammang Rammang, Rantepao, Sengkang, Bira, and Selayar.
I like to spend a good amount of time in the places I visit, giving myself the chance to really get to know the area and meet locals. So no island-hopping this time—just the south. But when I say "just," it’s not restrictive at all, given how rich this island is in landscapes, little encounters, and magical moments.
Wednesday 07/08 - Thursday 07/09:
We left Montpellier for what was supposed to be five flights, though we only took four to start, landing in Jakarta.
We picked up our luggage there to catch a flight to Makassar the next day. That’s the only way we could get an affordable ticket (702 €).
I won’t bore you with the flight details—there’s not much to say. We arrived at 7 PM and considered heading straight to Makassar that evening. But we opted for a recovery night before taking off again. Good thing we did, because my son’s suitcase was missing...
First contact with the locals was a bit stressful—a trip without your luggage isn’t exactly fun. But right away, a woman reassured us: the suitcase was just enjoying some extra time in Singapore. Maybe it was doing some last-minute shopping. Anyway, nothing serious—it was supposed to arrive at 9 AM the next day. That gave us some breathing room since our flight wasn’t until noon.
So off we went to our hotel (Days Hotel & Suites) near the airport. It was cheap (40 € for three rooms—my kids are older and need their space), but it wasn’t worth much more. The place had definitely seen better days. But no big deal—we were only there for the night, and... we got to watch France beat Morocco in the World Cup live at 3 AM. That’s what really mattered!
Friday 07/10: In search of the lost suitcase
First challenge of the morning: finding our missing suitcase. They sent us to the airport basement, to the staff entrance. We were greeted with smiles, and an airport employee led me through the underground corridors back to the baggage claim. Right on time at 9 AM, the suitcase arrived, just like they’d promised. We were finally complete!
Off we went to change terminals, grab a well-deserved meal, and board our fifth flight to Makassar.
Little side note: I struggled for a while trying to book domestic flights directly on the airlines’ websites with no luck. Without meaning to advertise (though I guess I am a little), I realized it’d be easier to use sites like tiket.com or Traveloka. That turned out to be a great choice—I even ended up booking hotels through them later in the trip.
12:40 PM: We were on our way to Makassar. First good news: we were the only tourists. Well, the only European tourists on the flight, anyway.
No, you’re not dreaming—the bag is full of... potato chip packets.
To each their own souvenirs, I guess...
When we arrived in Makassar, a driver was waiting to take us straight to Rammang Rammang: 250,000 IDR (12 €) to our guesthouse (Rammang Rammang House). Forget about meeting people on the bus—we were headed straight to the first stop of our trip, and it was already stunning.
My kids’ guesthouse:
Ours:
View of the little lake:
But not everything is straightforward around here.
I wanted to get a local SIM card for internet and calls. I found them expensive at Jakarta’s airport (20 € for 20 GB), so I decided to wait. Well, no luck in Rammang Rammang either. You can’t just buy one from the local shop—you need a Telkomsat store (they have the best coverage). So we’d have to wait for Rantepao to get Wi-Fi... When I say "local shop," I mean the little shack around the corner. No big deal—we’d find one easily in Rantepao for 5 € and 25 GB. So there we were, offline, just the four of us enjoying the amazing view.
Saturday 07/11: Rammang Rammang
We woke up early to the sound of wedding music blasting through the village (everyone’s invited!). Off we went to explore the area.
A little walking, a little boat ride (shared with a French tourist and a Polish one—yes, there *are* tourists here, just not many; 750,000 IDR for up to 8 people) through a lovely canal, and we discovered the karst site. It was peaceful and beautiful.
The river:
The karst site:
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)
Okay, Palermo—we know it. We go there to marvel at the architectural wonders born from the Arab-Norman-Byzantine-Gothic mix. And rightly so. We also go to treat our taste buds to all kinds of delights, both savory and sweet. Again, rightly so. We go to succumb to the charms of Palermo’s women, their sun-kissed skin glowing with golden highlights. Still, rightly so. And all while fantasizing about a mafia we’ll never actually see. Anyway.
But you’ll also find street art everywhere, even in the historic center. Sometimes, you just need to step a few meters away from the main tourist highways like Cassaro, Via Maqueda, or the main arteries of the Ballarò, Capo, or Vucciria markets to stumble upon some amazing murals. Duck into one or two slightly grimy alleys, weaving past trash and crumbling walls, and you’ll find real gems.
For example, just 50 meters south of the main artery of the Mercato del Capo, there’s a great spot with dozens of murals in a tiny neighborhood of run-down mini-houses. You’ll find plenty more south of the Mercato di Ballarò, in the Albergheria (the grittier side, not the one near Cassaro). There’s some in Ballarò itself too, but it’s hard to spot when the market’s in full swing with stalls everywhere. La Kalsa isn’t left out either, nor is Vucciria—just step away from the restaurant-packed streets.
Here are a few examples that really caught my eye.
(In the heart of Albergheria, on a street every visitor walks down—lovely message from an unidentified artist)
We landed in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, and headed straight to Kasane in Botswana to pick up our car.
Our vehicle is a 4x4 because in Zambia, it's practically impossible to use anything else, especially in the national parks. I’ve already had the pleasure of visiting South Luangwa National Park—it’s one of the reasons for this trip, the main one being to travel in Africa with one of my sons.
First stop: Livingstone on the banks of the Zambezi River. Along the way, we discovered a lovely restaurant at Socrates with a super-friendly owner (we’ll actually stop there again on our way back). We spent our first night in the rooftop tent after a stunning sunset, accompanied by the grunting of hippos in the river.
The next day, we set off early, heading to Kafue NP. In fact, we’ll always leave early—waking up between 5:00 and 5:30 AM and hitting the road an hour later. Kafue is a lesser-known park, mostly forested, and the animals are skittish because they’re not used to human presence. We crossed the park from south to north and came across various antelopes. Near Lake Itezhi-Tezhi, there are plains where wildlife is easier to spot.
After Kafue, we headed to South Luangwa. This journey requires stops in Mumbwa and Petauke. Two pleasant stops where we found lodges (a nice change from the rooftop tent) at affordable prices and met welcoming people.
For me, South Luangwa is Zambia’s most beautiful park—the river is stunning, the landscapes are gorgeous, and there’s a wide variety of wildlife, including, of course, big cats. A tip for those, like us, who aren’t with a guide: if you’re staying near the park for several days, don’t hesitate to do a "game drive" to scout out where the animals are so you can return the next day with your own vehicle. Of course, in the dry season, you’ll want to focus on waterholes to see the animals—and you’ll need a bit of luck too. The elephant population is growing, and we were lucky enough to see around sixty elephants crossing the Luangwa at dawn, spread across several groups. South Luangwa is the westernmost point of our trip, and we’re now heading east to Lower Zambezi.
Lower Zambezi is Zambia’s side of Mana Pools on the Zimbabwe side. We took a boat ride on the Zambezi to see elephants, hippos, crocodiles, and a multitude of birds living along the water and on the river’s islands. The sunset there is also magnificent.
To explore the park, we followed the waterways parallel to the Zambezi, mostly on the western side (see our route). Lower Zambezi is the last park we visit, and the final leg of our trip will be Victoria Falls.
Victoria Falls—or Mosi-Oa-Tunya ("The Smoke That Thunders")—are truly impressive, even during the dry season. We saw the falls from both countries: in Zambia for the overall view and the bridge that serves as the border, and in Zimbabwe to get as close as possible to the most spectacular parts of the falls.
This marks the end of our trip, which, despite a blown tire on the road, went off without any major issues. Zambia is a beautiful country that immerses you in wild, still-preserved nature.
From Southern Shikoku, between land and sea, to the blue waters of Miyakojima and finally Tokyo’s megacity
Hi everyone,
I have to admit, I really hesitated before deciding to write this travel journal... Writing one takes a lot of time and energy, and since this is my 4th trip, I wondered if it would actually interest anyone other than myself (both for the discovery and the writing). But after a few "Are you going to write a journal?" requests and especially the renewed pleasure from reading other travelers’ travel journals about Japan or elsewhere on this forum or elsewhere, I’ve decided to share this 4th installment in the Land of the Rising Sun here.
The itinerary:
27 full days, from late May to late June 2025, right in the middle of the rainy season, including:
-->13 days in Shikoku, from Kochi (Kochi Prefecture) to Matsuyama (Ehime Prefecture)
-->7 days in Miyakojima (Okinawa Prefecture)
-->7 days in Tokyo
The trip was decided on fairly last-minute this year, as usual.
I regularly check flight prices to track fluctuations for this destination, even without concrete plans. Finding a slightly cheaper direct flight (900 €) than what I’d seen in previous months (around 1,200–1,400 € on average) for a Paris-Tokyo route with Japanese airline ANA was too tempting to resist the urge to return to this enchanting country. After long hesitations between exploring the San’in region (Matsue, Tottori, Yamaguchi) and southern Shikoku, the decision was made—I took the plunge! The tickets are booked: Paris to Kochi with a layover in Tokyo, all with ANA, the airline I’d been dreaming of... for 1,120 € per person. Okay, it’s not cheap, but it’s still better than in 2023.
We leave in 2 weeks!! Now it’s just a matter of getting everything ready!
Intense work ahead in these 2 weeks to:
finalize a more precise itinerary and reach an agreement—yep, because even though we both love Japan, our preferences differ slightly, and we have to choose between exploring new places or taking time to revisit beloved spots...
decide how much time to spend in each selected area without rushing while still exploring
research places that might interest us and watch videos about Japan
book accommodations: yes, it’s possible to do this on the spot as we go, but last year, we noticed that last-minute options were pretty expensive, so we’re booking ahead—even if it means keeping a few options open while we decide or see if better deals pop up later
reserve rental cars
order yen
check the weather regularly and wonder if choosing the *tsuyu* (rainy season) was really a good idea—and whether we’ll be stuck in non-stop rain???
What a tough job, right? Traveling to Japan for a month—such a hard life!
Despite this being my 4th trip, the excitement is just as intense as the first time.
The only small downside is that when we booked the flight tickets, there were only a few seats left, so we’re only sitting together on the international return flight. Plus, on the outbound flight, we’ve got the middle seats.
Another lingering question: what French-language films will be available? According to the internet, the selection seems limited.
Oh well, these are just minor details—it’s almost time to fly!
PS: I’ll be posting slowly and irregularly... so for those interested, be patient or maybe set an alert...
Before Our Departure
Preparing for this trip started 9 months before our departure in June. For those planning a similar itinerary, it’s important to book accommodations well in advance, especially in the Okavango and Savuti campsites—otherwise, you might not find any availability.
Introduction
After visiting Zambia three years ago and Namibia and western Botswana a year and a half ago, this year we chose Zimbabwe (Hwange NP) and the northern half of Botswana.
Our flight from Paris was to Victoria Falls with Ethiopian Airlines, with a layover in Addis Ababa. We rented a 4x4 from Bushlore in Kasane, complete with two rooftop tents since there are four of us on this adventure. Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4 and, most importantly, gave us a rundown of the vehicle and its equipment. Pay close attention to what they tell you—it could be crucial if something goes wrong, as it did for us during the trip.
Our Itinerary
We arrived on June 12th at noon. At Victoria Falls Airport, we got our double-entry visa right away—I’d already pre-booked it online on the site https://www.evisa.gov.zw/.
Since our vehicle was in Botswana, we had to cross the border from Victoria Falls into Botswana for the first time.
The next morning, Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4. After completing the formalities, we headed toward Zimbabwe and the town of Victoria Falls.
We woke up early the next morning to be at Victoria Falls at sunrise. The scenery was stunning, but since it was the start of the dry season, the Zambezi was still high, so the falls had a strong flow. This made it hard to fully appreciate their beauty.
In the early afternoon, we left for Hwange NP, where we stayed for 4 days. Two days at Gwango campsite near Dete, followed by two days at Robins Camp. We expected to see more animals at Robins, but that wasn’t the case. In Hwange, we didn’t spot any predators, but we did see plenty of mammals (buffalo, elephants, giraffes, zebras, and antelopes).
After a few days in Zimbabwe, we crossed back into Botswana at Pandamatenga. We stopped at Nata Lodge for a good night’s rest—driving on the dirt roads is exhausting.
We left Nata and headed toward Nxai Pan. The road was sandy but manageable. We made a small detour to admire some beautiful baobabs at "Baines Baobabs." Then we continued to our campsite, Nxai Pan South Camp. Keep in mind that many campsites in Botswana aren’t fenced (except for the shower/toilet areas), so animals can roam freely within the camp. Take precautions, especially after dark.
After our stop in Nxai Pan, we headed to Maun. We decided to break our journey in Maun before heading to Moremi and the Okavango Delta for three reasons: first, we needed to stock up on supplies and fuel for the next 5 days; second, our fridge had broken (luckily, Bushlore has a branch in Maun); and third, the drive from Nxai to our camp in Xakanaxa in the delta would’ve taken too long. I always avoid driving after dark.
We arrived at our Xakanaxa camp on June 21st in the early afternoon. Not wanting to waste time, we booked a boat ride on the Okavango Delta, leaving at 4:00 PM for a 2-hour sunset cruise. For those interested, to the right of the Xakanaxa X1 site, there’s a sign for boat rides. The organizer is very professional and offers prices that are nothing like those of the lodges.
It was a beautiful ride through the delta with a stunning sunset. Being on a boat is much more relaxing than driving on the dirt roads. That didn’t stop us from doing self-drive safaris the next morning and late afternoon, though.
Then came the time to leave the delta and head toward Savuti, a much drier region. And that’s when the toughest part of our trip began. First, we decided to go up via Khwai. The rainy season was over, but the area was still marshy. We had to cross a few small water patches, testing the depth to make sure we could get through. Luckily, a sign on the road pointed us toward a drier route. We reached Khwai without any issues, but then we made a major mistake. Instead of taking the main track toward Mababe Gate to reach Savuti Camp, we took a straight path north and then a right turn to get to our camp. Bad call—we got stuck in the sand, with one rear wheel buried halfway and a front wheel off the ground. We were genuinely scared we wouldn’t get out, especially since we were on a deserted track, 20 kilometers from our destination, with night falling in two hours. This is where paying attention to the vehicle instructions really paid off—we had to use the jack to get out of the mess. The result: we arrived at Savuti campsite just before dark (Distance: 146.3 km, Duration: 9 hours, 56 minutes, and 3 seconds, Average speed: 14.7 km/h, tracked with Osmand). At reception, the staff couldn’t understand how we’d gotten there—we hadn’t passed through any of Savuti’s reserve entry gates.
The next morning, no one felt like driving, so we did a game drive with a guide. I don’t know if it was some kind of reward, but the outing was amazing. We saw three lions and, best of all, a pack of African wild dogs that we had time to admire and photograph. The next day, we did a short self-drive and found one of the lions from the day before drinking at a waterhole. That was the end of our Savuti adventure.
Now we’re heading to Kasane. We returned our vehicle and settled in for our last two nights there. The next morning, since we no longer had a car, we decided to do one last early-morning game drive in Chobe NP. It turned out great—we followed two brother lions and saw plenty of other mammals. The only downside of Chobe is the number of tourists, which was a change from the other parks we’d visited. That said, we’re tourists too, so...
In the evening, we took one last boat ride on the Chobe River to end on a high note with a beautiful sunset.
After a good night’s sleep and plenty of wonderful memories, landscapes, animals, and emotions, it was time to leave. We left early in the morning with the same taxi company as before to cross the border into Zimbabwe one last time and head to the airport, where we took off to return to France.
We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?
This travel journal aims to help future travelers (well, I hope so!), since there’s so little information available about this remote archipelago. Big thanks to Lolodesiles and Ayis for answering my questions while I planned this trip!
Context
This is our fourth trip to Indonesia as a couple—after Java-Bali in 2011, Flores-Komodo in 2013, and Sulawesi in 2016—each time for three weeks. It’s also our tenth trip to Southeast Asia overall.
We’re traveling like we have in previous years: with a rough itinerary that often changes based on who we meet, tips from other travelers, how tired we are, or what we’re feeling in the moment. In the Moluccas, it’ll change constantly, mostly depending on transportation.
Our only accommodation booking: the first few nights in Ambon when we arrive.
Planned route (to be refined on the spot): Ambon - Banda Islands - Lease Islands - Ternate - Tidore - Halmahera (between Sofifi and Tobelo) - Morotai and the neighboring unnamed archipelago.
Flights: Lyon-Paris-Singapore on Air France (428 € round-trip), with good meals, champagne, and wine (we like our little comforts when going on vacation 😏). Then Singapore-Jakarta-Ambon on Air Asia and Garuda.
Return flight: Ternate-Jakarta-Singapore on Lion Air, with a 3-day stopover in Singapore before heading home.
Episode 1: Ambon to Banda
Our guesthouse, booked two days before departure, is 45 minutes from Ambon Airport, near Natsepa Beach (northeast of Leihitu). It’s a pretty average beach—quiet on weekdays but packed on Sundays (we saw the difference). It’s lined with warungs.
This rainy day helps us readjust to the atmosphere of this country we love so much.
Our “Solim Guesthouse” is a lovely house with a living/dining room and garden, costing 15 € per night for two, including a hearty breakfast.
Dinner is at Gaba Gaba, a great restaurant just a short walk away, right by the water, recommended by our host. Fun fact: it’s in the Lonely Planet, and it might be the only LP-listed spot in the Moluccas that actually matches the description (the others either don’t exist or have nothing to do with what’s advertised 😠).
For the next two days, the super-friendly owner lends us his scooter. We set off to explore the coastal villages in northern Leihitu (the western part of Ambon Island, which has a weird shape).
Laundry and trucks washed in the same stream.
Liang Beach, described as the island’s most beautiful, is almost gone (climate change or something else?), but the colors are magical.
We continue 25 km toward a snorkeling spot our host recommended, taking a gorgeous, deserted little road through tiny villages in clove plantations (oh, those unforgettable scents!), stunning coves, and dense forest.
We’re greeted dozens of times with “Hello Mister”—a daily routine in the Moluccas. Every time we stop, we pose for photos to be saved on locals’ smartphones. They don’t see tourists often.
We ask for directions to the snorkeling spot (not easy—we only know basic Indonesian like *Selamat pagi*, *siang*, *sore*, and other polite phrases). Not many people know where it is (especially since we never know which village we’re in), but we eventually reach a small village that seems to be the right place. 🙂
We ask a local to take us there by boat (it’s not reachable by land).
The spot is at most 100 meters long, but the coral is in good condition (apparently not dynamited by fishermen, unlike in other parts of this beautiful country where fishing methods are destructive and nature pays the price 😠). The fish are plentiful and diverse. It’s a great start before heading to Banda. We’re happy to have the place to ourselves… though we don’t yet realize we won’t see a single tourist for the rest of the trip!
After two days of rest, we head to Tulehu Port in the morning, aiming for the Banda Islands. We know the journey is often tricky: the Pelni ferry runs twice a month but doesn’t match our dates, the 10-seat Suzi Air plane is always full (you can’t book—you have to show up on Mondays and Fridays), and it’s often canceled due to weather. So we opt for the Tuesday speedboat (which also gets canceled if there are waves or wind), with the next one on Saturday.
We’re used to Indonesian ports—crowded, rusty boats, no English speakers—but we still feel lost. When I ask about the speedboat to Bandaneira, people gesture wildly, someone takes me to the “harbor office,” then tells me there’s no boat, others try to sell me tickets, and some just say, “No boat.”
Luckily, an English-speaking local approaches us and confirms the speedboat is broken. The next one will be Saturday *if* it’s fixed—otherwise, even later. 🤪 😠
We’re crushed. We came here for the Banda Islands… 🙁
We decide waiting five days for a maybe-boat isn’t an option, so we decide to head straight to North Moluccas, which was planned for later. We’re so disappointed we don’t even want to stay in the area. The Lease Islands don’t appeal to us despite what we’ve read, and Seram would deserve its own trip with its remote mountain tribes.
Huge disappointment—we’d been dreaming of Banda for months, with its incredible drop-offs like Bunaken, its islands covered in nutmeg trees, etc. I’d read that Banda is in the world’s top 5, alongside Bunaken (amazing—we went in 2016), Komodo (incredible—we went in 2013), Sipadan, and another spot I’ve forgotten.
We take a taxi back to Ambon (45 minutes) to a travel agency to buy plane tickets to Ternate. There’s a daily ATR72 flight at noon—perfect timing.
Ambon is the capital of South Moluccas (or Central, depending on who you ask!) with 300,000 people. The city doesn’t seem unpleasant, but we don’t stop.
On the plane, there are only about ten passengers for 72 seats. The flight attendants are stunning, as always with Wings Air—clearly, they’re hired for their looks. 😊
Stopover in Bacan—a runway in the middle of coconut trees serving a tiny town—then we fly over countless volcanoes, the last one towering over Ternate.
Bonjour,
De retour sur le forum - et première rédaction d'un espèce de carnet de retour de notre 4ème voyage en Indo.
Contexte : une trentaine de jours, en scooter et en duo, sur Florès (et une petite incursion dans l'archipel de Solor, plus précisément à Lembata (chut, faut pas trop en parler !!!), qui donne envie d'en faire beaucoup plus là bas malgré les infrastructures sporadiques), en partie dans des destinations déjà bien connues du forum (la classique Ruteng / Bajawa / Riung / Moni voir baie de Maumere) ... et qui ne parlera pas du PN de Komodo ou de Wae Rebo, puisque nous n'y sommes pas allés 🏴☠️.
Texte en anglais (issu d'une autre plateforme). Sans nul doute, des traducteurs intelligents ou pas marcheront à merveille en cas d'anglophobie 🤪.
Disponible à toute fin utile pour des détails ou infos.
Equippement : Yam' Nmax 155 ; 2x saccoches cavalières (25L) + sac de selle (30L) + saccoche tunnel (15L pour le matos photo) ; casques et vêtements d'enduro amenés depuis la France.
Itinéraire : boucle depuis Labuan bajo jusqu'à Pulau Lembata ; juillet-août 2026
Road conditions graded from A (excellent) to D (very bad, at least for a Scooter… a CRF/KLX or even honda ADV would do better on that)
D1 : Labuan Bajo – Reok via Ranggoe, Rego & Tagol (130km ; 5hrs). Section LBajo – Rego (90 km ; B) is quite good tarmac, despite a lot of elevation with many small valleys and passes. Rego – Tagol (10km ; D) is a stone road (not gravel), some ascents & very poor condition ; necessary to lower tyre pressure. Tagol – Reok port (22km, quality depends considerably from D to B). Reok port – Towncenter : B. Night @Iffah Homestay (100k for fan room, mandi attached, no breakfast), simple but clean. Notes : path to danau Sano Limbung was closed ; access to Tiwu Pai & Wae Kuli (waterfalls) not permitted in july 2026.
D2 : Reok – Riung via Pota (105km ; 3h-3h30). The road is very narrow in some part, thanks to the uncut bushes (lowering visibility hence extra caution as animals/people can suddenly appear in a turn…) but generally good condition except many eroded sections and some unpaved ones. Grade C/B. 2 nights @Mentos (285k for AC room)
D3 : Boat tour in Riung (booked directly with a captain, 800k for two for private boat incl. lunch and NP fees) + sunset from Watu Mitong Riung (should not be missed).
D4 : Riung – Muku Saki via Mbay (around 100km ; 3h30). Quality varies from A in the vicinity of Mbay to eroded sections (C) in secluded places. Night @Sao Paolo Homestay (250k for fan room with mandi, maybe overpriced but nice house and great food). Note : if you happen to pass by Mbay on Saturday, the market is well worth a stop (cheapest Ikat on the trip : you’ll be asked normal prices providing you’re OK in Bahasa…)
D5 : Muku Saki – Tanjung Kajuwulu (near Ndete) (90km, 3h). Many patholes, eroded (C). Night at Déjà Vu Homestay (220k for a matress on the floor & outside mandi/toilets ; I woud define this as a tourist trap – the quote we had for food was double priced too…)
D6 : Tanjung Kajuwulu – Waiterang (east of Maumere, 55km , 1h30). Pathholes till maumere, then All good (TransFlores), C/A. Night at Sunset Cottage (new concrete room, very serene place ; 270k for AC with bathroom ; much prefered Sunset over Lena House (more customers, more built up).
D7 : Waiterang – Larantuka via Boru and Eputobi (TransFlores ; grade A ; 115km / 2h40). Particularly liked the drink stalls (marked as Rest Area Eputobi) and the out of order aquatic park just before Larantuka (obyej wisata waiplatin). Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay, which is not advertising itself as Larantuka Beach Homestay as some contributor signals here and on goole maps review. Best breakfast of the trip (Cumi Cumi !!!) ; 275k for AC room with bathroom.
D8 : Local Boat (Kapal Kayu) from the main port to Lembata (Lewoleba). Departure 8am ; price 60k/head + 50k for the bike. Stop enroute on Adonara (where we did not stop due to fights between communities). Night @Elmany Homestay (275k for AC room with bathroom, fan room with shared bathroom also available). Whole afternoon at Pantai Hadakewa, fantastic place (good snorkeling, great views of Ile Api aka Gn Lewotolo). Road condition : A (did not expect the TransLembata to be that good…).
D9 : Loop around Ile Api (50km, 2hrs), anticlockwise. Stops enroute at Situs Tulang Paus (whale squeletton), pantai Jotona, pantai Wena (we expected to snorkel from there, but wind was very strong that day), situs Watu Nale, Selat Sonia. The western coast is far less interesting. Road conditions : bad (C) on the eastern side (up to Riangbeda), good (B/A) afterwards. Night @Elmany Homestay.
D10 : Lewoleba – Lamalera via the western and south coast (70km, 2h30). Good road (B) for roughly the first 55km (up to Tapobali), then eroded track for the last 15km (in some parts steep and dangerous) up to Lamalera (D/C). Notes : 1/ Kuma resort denied us the entry for some drink ; 2/Pantai Waijarang « complex » is abandonned but closed with fences ; you can still sneak in ; 3/ some reports advise to skip Bukit Cinta (foreigner entry fee) for Bukit Doa Watomiten (stations of the cross) ; well Bukit Cinta has also been abandonned (well spent money…sic) but remains opened with structures falling (quickly) appart. Night @Lamalera Inn (200k per head including meals ; very basic fan room + attached mandi). Planned 2 nights, spent only one, as it’s the only tenant I had difficulties with (only interested in money, initially stated crazy prices, starts loud music at 6am … and drinking moke at 8am…)
D11 : Trip to Wulandoni for the Barter Market (Saturday only). Bad road (C) along the coast. Had to report at the Kantor upon arrival, which quite surprisingly asked 100k per person (foreigner) to go inside the (outside) market. Other « local » tourists (a group from Jakarta) were not asked to pay. Well, since a market is a public space and not a zoo, we refused payment and enjoyed the activity from the kopi stall next to it. Returned then to Lamalera for the catches of the day, then to Lewoleba via the mountain road (45km, 2 hours). First 10km to Puor is in very bad condition and uphill (D/C). The remaining is on a newly constructed road (A). Note : Air Panas Sabutobo is abandonned and falling apart (again…) but there are still some water pipes along the river that you can enjoy (depending how lucky you are, just with the forest sounds as companion). Night @Elmany Homestay
D12 : Chill day alond the northern coast (Batu Payung, Pantai Hadakewa with lot of snorkeling, drove till Wailolong and backtracked to Pantai Lewolein for more snorkeling (nice canyons there !) and another fantastic sunset over Ile Api (see GMaps pictures)). Night @Elmany Homestay
D13 : Monday weekly market at Pada, southwest of Lewoleba. Renowned but honnestly dont plan any itinerary specifically for it, just an ordinary Kampung weekly market. Returned to Larantuka and Flores with the 12pm local boat (the same boat that leaves from Larantuka at 8am). Same prices as the first leg. Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay
D14 : Larantuka – Waiterang along the northern coast (100km, 3h) via Pantai Kawaliwu, Tewuk Lewokluok (trail is easy to find, very nice snorkelling in a lagoon), Pantai Lato (to my opinion the most beautiful beach on Flores and you’ll be the only visitor, as opposed to Pantai Koka) and Pantai Hia, until rejoining the TransFlores near Nebe. Grade C on the costal eroded road / track. 3 nights @Lena Guesthouse (booked ahead as it fills up quickly, but we prefered its neighbour Sunset Beach Guesthouse)
D15 : Snorkeling trip organised by Lena Guesthouse (200k per head excluding NP fees and lunch)). The drop-off near Pulau Babi is a very nice spot.
D16 : scooter day trip around the Egon Range (too lazy to hike it…), through nice Sikka villages (route : Watublapi, Umauta, Bola, pantai Doreng, Nakatoli, foot of Gn Egon, Air panas Blidit). The track from Natakoli to the foot of Gn Egon is very steep, damaged and wet (with moss) ; I would recommend not to attempt that in case of bad weather.
D17 : Waiterang – Moni (130km, 3h30, transflores grade A/B) via Pantai Koka (refused to pay the mafia entry fee…) and Jopu (some rumah Adat Lio). Stopped at Museum Bikon Blewut, south of Maumere. Very nice artefacts (especially wooden statues from Papuan, great ikat collection) although very disorganized and sadly non-visited (hence masterpieces fall into oblivion). 2 Nights @Liahz Lodge (150k for fan room, basic bathroom… but right next to Air Panas Liasembe (free, no closing time) !!!).
D18 : Sunrise from Kelimutu with a nice weather (stayed until 8.30am). I don’t know if the sunrise is really worth it (lot of people ascending and watching the sunrise – a lot but nothing compared to e.g. Gn Bromo), nearly everyone going down around 7am, then there is virtually nobody. Trip (20km one way, good road B) to Kampung Adat Nggela (Lio). Although the village is habited and mostly out of the beaten path, I have mixed fillings due to the fact that most ladies (some are pushy) try to sell you (bad) pieces of ikat.
D19 : Moni – Ende via Detusoko paddy fields, Kampung Adat Saga (Lio) and Puncak Ndona ; 75km 2h30. We really liked Saga (nice setting on the mountain, friendly villagers, no selling, mix between traditional and more modern houses in that lively village). Sunset from Bukit Raja, on the peninsula with a 360 view on Gn Iya, Gn Meja Kota Ende and the mountains behind. Note : at the end of the road (search for Gunung Meja Tourist Info Center), there is a (sand) track leading to the path. 1/ only intend the track if you have off road driving experience ; 2/ dont trust the walking time stated by Maps.me. Took us 45mins on a steady pace to reach the summit. Night @Hoja Homestay, 300k for a comfortable AC room with bathroom.
D20 : Ende – Bajawa, via Air Panas Mengeruda ; grade A, 120km, 3 hours. Note : don’t plan to short in Mengeruda (Soa), very easy to spend a half day there, especially if playing with local kids. Stay @Cinnamon GH, 250k for double with fan and hot shower (cheaper options with shared hot shower availlable).
D21 : First day in Bajawa : Watu Nari Wowo (Avatar Hill, sic…), Kampung Adat Ngada Tololela & Gurusina (very very friendly people, complementary views of Gn Inerie & Wolo Deru). Sunset from Puncak Manulalu (well… Heaven’s door Bar & Restaurant)
D22 : Second day in Bajawa : Kampung Adat Ngio (hardly visited, best view on Gn Inerie), Air Panas Malanage, Kampung Adat Bena (the most visited Ngada village (after Bela ?) in the area, we went there at the end of the afternoon to avoid tours, early morning would be fine too), and Gunung Wolobobo for a terrific sunset
D23 : returned to Gunung Wolobobo for sunrise with Gn Ebulobo in the distance (search for a track on the eastern slope, near the communication antenna). You can circuit the rim to the usual viewpoint (westside, sunset spot), the path is easy to find. Then took again the road to Aimere, visiting Kampung Adat Belaraghi enroute (the setting is maybe less rewarding than all the previous villages). 56km ; 1h30. The road to Belaraghi is fine, except the final part.
D24 : Aimere – Ruteng (105km, 3h30). Nice detour by the paddy fields of Wodo (southwest of Golo Loni) of Sunset from Golo Curu (nice encounters with locals). Night @Tange GH, 130k for room with outside (private) bathroom, no breakfast.
D25 : Surroundings of Ruteng (paddy fields north and east of ruteng ; Maps.me has funny tracks starting from Kenda), and the rather pleasant city itself (pasar, churches, lapangan). We finally skipped Liang Bua.
D26 : Ruteng - Labuan Bajo (130km, 3h30). No visits of the waterfalls close to the TransFlores (entry fee (with bule prices) + mandatory guide etc…). Sunset from Bukit Hercadi with very few locals (Bukit Sylvia & Bukit Amelia, just south, were packed). 2 nights @Wellamas Homestay, away from the harbour and its advantages/disadvantages. 230k for comfortable AC room with hot shower.
D27 : New road to Golo Mori Convention Center (another big money well spent…), with nice views on the strait separating Flores from Pulau Rinca. Some empty beaches (e.g. Pantai Pasir Pajang ; we were there on a weekday perhaps frequented by people from LBajo only). 30km (40 mins) one way, perhaps the fastest road of Flores…
D28 : Morning on the peninsula north of Labuan Bajo before taking a flight to Jakarta in the afternoon. On Google maps, the asphalt road only goes to Teras Langit ; it now (august 2026) continues to Puncak Basok and is still in progress towards the eastern part of the peninsula. On the way back, two other nice Bukit where you can enjoy nice views on the bay (and the resorts…) : Bukit Lontar & Bukit Beta. Note : we only found one public (and nice and quiet) beach in the area ; tagged as Sunset Point Beach on Gmaps. All the rest was closed by fences ; they are privately owned (although the Indonesian consitution grants the coastline as public space).
We're a family of five: one dad, one mom, and three kids aged 10, 15, and 18.
Before diving into each stop in more detail, here are a few general thoughts:
We wanted to sample a bit of everything Japan has to offer in terms of landscapes, accommodation, and transport. We were after walks, temples, restaurants, shopping, and some downtime—but no "all-inclusive experiences" or museums for this first visit.
Three medium-sized (60x42x25) canvas suitcases, plus a duffel bag and a few small backpacks. 23 kg in the hold on the way out, 60 kg on the way back. 36 kg of shopping, without even trying. I think this is the maximum suitcase size if you don’t want to stress on the Shinkansen: they fit easily in the overhead racks.
Round-trip with Cathay Pacific, layover in Hong Kong: no need to collect luggage in Hong Kong—we checked it in at departure and picked it up in Tokyo, and the same on the way back (checked in Osaka, picked up at our final destination). This let us explore Hong Kong without worrying about our bags. Food and entertainment were pretty good—meals included a little Häagen-Dazs on each flight, and the entertainment had way more Asian cinema than you’d find on a Western airline, which was a nice way to see how much weight Western culture carries in Asia.
The original plan was to fly directly from Ishigaki to Hong Kong, but due to Typhoon Dolphin, we had to cancel the Ishigaki leg. Cathay didn’t bat an eye about swapping the Ishigaki-HK flight for an Osaka-HK one, even though it was twice as long.
We were a bit too attached to the idea of ending the trip with some beach time and replaced Ishigaki with Shirahama. It was a mistake—we should’ve visited Hiroshima or spent a little more time in Tokyo instead.
Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.
It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected.
Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel.
I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability.
So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.
I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:
Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras
Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya
Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat
Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott
Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou
To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog:
From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations
Hello and welcome aboard this new travel journal!
We’re heading off to Ireland together—a country I’ve wanted to explore for a very long time.
The moment has finally arrived.
We’ll be traveling as a family—my wife, my husband, and our 7-year-old daughter.
Here’s our itinerary:
24/07: Flight from Marseille to Dublin, overnight in Dublin
25/07: Dublin, overnight in Dublin
26/07: Dublin, overnight in Dublin
27/07: Pick up rental car, drive to Dingle, overnight near Tralee on the peninsula
28/07: Visit the Ring of Kerry
29/07: Adare, Bunratty Castle, Galway, overnight in Outheragh, near Galway
30/07: Cliffs of Moher, overnight in Outheragh
31/07: Connemara, overnight in Outheragh
01/08: Drive to Sligo via Westport and Downpatrick Head, overnight in Sligo
02/08: Slieve League, Silver Strand Beach, Glencolmcille, overnight in Sligo
03/08: Drive to Derry via Glenveagh National Park, overnight in Derry
04/08: Giant’s Causeway, Dunluce Castle, Portrush, Derry, overnight in Derry
05/08: Drive to Belfast, visit Belfast, overnight in Lisburn (Belfast suburbs)
06/08: Game of Thrones filming locations: Dark Hedges, Carrick-a-Rede, Ballintoy, etc., overnight in Lisburn
07/08: Drive to the Wicklow Mountains, visit Wicklow Mountains National Park, overnight in Blessington
08/08: Drive back to Dublin and return to Marseille.
Cost breakdown:
Flights:
Outbound flights with KLM via Amsterdam for 3: 175 € + 40,000 Flying Blue miles (so essentially a free ticket)
Return flight with Aer Lingus for 3: 489 €
Rental car:
10 days booked with Enterprise via Carigami: 443 € including zero-excess insurance.
Accommodation:
Dublin: 3 nights at Maldron Hotel New Cross: 394 €
Tralee: 2 nights in a caravan (Ocean Trail Oasis): 292 €
Outheragh: 3 nights Airbnb, family room with private bathroom: 430 €
Sligo: 2 nights at Clayton Hotel: 456 €
Derry: 2 nights at Belfray Inn: 255 €
Lisburn: 2 nights at Temple Golf Club: 232 €
Blessington: 1 night at Baltyboys Lodges B&B: 158 €
That brings our total to 3,325 € for three.
On the ground, visits, fuel, and food cost around 2,500 €.
So this was quite an expensive trip.
A few price examples:
1 liter of unleaded fuel: 1.89 €
3-day pass in Dublin: 18 €
1 scoop of ice cream: 5 to 6.5 €
Castle visit: 15 € per person
A coffee: 3-4 €
A glass of wine at a restaurant: 8-10 €
A half-pint of Guinness: 7-12 €
Now, here’s the day-by-day account of our adventure in Ireland:
Our decision is our decision. And it’s firm and final. Next winter, our plane will spread its great wings toward the island of Ceylon! "Wait a minute... Ceylon... Ceylon... that name rings a bell, but I can’t quite place it on the globe Grandma gave me for Christmas! Ceylon... Oh right, I’ve got it: Ceylon is the name of my tea!" Exactly. But the name on your pretty tea box is also the one used until 1972 for this island nation, a speck on the Indian Ocean at the southern tip of the Indian subcontinent: Sri Lanka!
For this new adventure, I’m exceptionally leaving my Flo behind, cowardly replaced by a double dose of testosterone. To write the book of this journey with me, I’m bringing along my brother, who’s used to this kind of thing, and... a guest star: My model of resilience. My dad! All aboard! Or rather, all aboard our tuk-tuk! Yes, you read that right: A real tuk-tuk, a little colorful rolling box that putters along at two miles an hour. The idea? Well, Sri Lanka and its winding roads overlooking the vastness of lush nature are tailor-made for this kind of vehicle. And since it’s one of only two countries in the world that allow foreigners to rent and drive these mini speedsters, we’ll be crisscrossing the island in our two-square-meter rolling box. Plus, adopting this mode of transport is a surefire way to connect directly with the locals, who’ll surely be curious to see a foreigner driving their iconic vehicle. Not to mention the... let’s say... spicy anecdotes it might generate. I mean, heading into a subtropical zone with my jet-black dad and his unpredictable digestive flora while deliberately choosing the tuk-tuk as our *only* means of transport? That’s the winning combo for an unforgettable adventure! "More seriously, Dad, Sullivan, I’m already loving the idea of living this adventure together, the three of us—brothers and father..."
So, does the intro to this new adventure get your salivary glands going? Yes? Too bad. Because unfortunately, the program handed out by the lady at the entrance has been slightly... let’s say *crumpled*. Some might even say "scrunched up and nearly tossed in the trash." First, six days ago, as the countdown echoed in us like a call to adventure, Cyclone Ditwah grabbed Sri Lanka, played with it like a rag doll, and left it battered on the ground. The toll is devastating: over a thousand dead, thousands of homes wiped out by relentless rains, roads and railways swallowed by massive mudslides. A country wounded once again, after the civil war, the 2004 tsunami, and the post-Covid economic crisis.
But as if this weather disaster wasn’t enough to shake our unbreakable adventurer spirit, fate decided to mess with us further by cutting our trio down to two. The victim? My brother, violently turned away because of a simple date on his passport that didn’t match the border officials’ expectations. Return to sender!
So now it’s just the two of us allowed to board the Qatar Airways Airbus A380 for this trip. If he were here, Denis Brognart would say, "And in the end, only one remains!" Except I know you’ll be with us, following our adventures! Right?
Hello everyone, I’m happy to welcome you to this new travel journal.
We’re heading to Costa Rica together—a Central American destination that dreams are made of for many French travelers and attracts crowds from France.
It was the country’s wild nature and safety that convinced us to go, since we’re traveling with our 7-year-old little one.
We didn’t have much vacation time in February 2026 (only 12 days), so we optimized as much as possible.
Here’s the itinerary:
Wednesday, February 11: Flight from Marseille to San Jose via Paris and Atlanta
Thursday, February 12: Pick up the car, drive to Poas Volcano, visit La Paz Waterfall Gardens
Friday, February 13: Poas Volcano and drive to Manuel Antonio
Saturday, February 14: Manuel Antonio National Park
Sunday, February 15: Nauyaca Waterfall and Playa Linda
Monday, February 16: Drive to Monte Verde and Santa Elena Reserve
Tuesday, February 17: El Tigre Waterfall Reserve and Treetopia Park
Wednesday, February 18: Monte Verde Reserve with a guide and drive to La Fortuna
Thursday, February 19: Sloth guided tour, Observatory Lodge Park
Friday, February 20: Arenal Volcano National Park, Termalistas del Arenal hot springs, and night tour
Saturday, February 21: Return to San Jose, flight to Paris via Atlanta
Sunday, February 22: Arrival in Paris and flight to Marseille.
That gives us a solid 9 days in the country.
Budget breakdown:
Costa Rica is an expensive country, but no more so than France. However, almost all hikes and waterfalls are paid entry, which can really add up.
For meals, sodas (6–10 €) are cheaper than restaurants (10–20 € per dish).
Flights:
We chose Delta Airlines for the price: Marseille to San Jose was 740 € per person (modifiable, with checked baggage and seat selection included).
Other direct flights from Europe were priced between 1200 € and 1600 € with more restrictive conditions.
That’s 2220 € for the family.
Accommodations:
Alajuela, first night: 139 € (1 night) at Rodeo Estancia Boutique Hotel, with personalized airport pickup, transfer to the hotel, and a briefing from Vert Costa Rica agency the next day.
Poas: 66 € (1 night) at Cabañas Tierra Fértil (entire apartment).
Manuel Antonio: 394 € (3 nights) at La Palapa Ecolodge (hotel in the jungle).
Monte Verde: Chalet Aloha Monteverde Cloud Forest (2 bedrooms): 125 € (2 nights).
La Fortuna: Arenal Dream Garden (1 bedroom): 217 € (3 nights).
Total: 941 €.
Car rental:
I went through Vert Costa Rica agency (Vincent is a French expat who set up the agency in Costa Rica and makes great YouTube videos with useful tips).
I rented a 4x4 that was delivered to the hotel the day after arrival and returned at the airport before the flight. The total was 772 €, including full insurance (zero deductible), a child seat, and a phone with a Costa Rican SIM and WhatsApp. The rental company was Poas Rent a Car. The vehicle was well-maintained—no complaints.
Gas: 100 € for the whole trip (3 fill-ups).
Activities:
To get discounts, I bought the pass offered by Vincent, which paid for itself after just one activity. It cost me 30 € (promo since I rented the car through him).
Prices are for 3 people. I’ve added stars to rate them:
La Paz Waterfall Gardens ****: 112 €
Poas Volcano National Park *: 33 €
Manuel Antonio National Park ****: 35 €
Nauyaca Waterfall ***: 25 €
Santa Elena Reserve **: 45 €
El Tigre Waterfall Reserve ****: 141 € (with meal)
Treetopia (ziplining, suspension bridges) **: 250 €
Guided tour of Monte Verde Reserve ***: 113 €
Sloth guided tour (with breakfast) ***: 115 €
Arenal Observatory Lodge (with meal) ****: 102 €
Arenal Volcano National Park *: 34 €
Termalistas del Arenal ****: 20 €
Night tour ***: 116 €
Total: 1171 €.
Meals: 600 €
My favorite restaurants:
Poas: Food court Mercaditas in Fraijanes
Manuel Antonio (near La Palapa): La Langosta and also El Patio
Near Nauyaca Waterfall: Ricar2 el Avión
Between Manuel Antonio and Monte Verde: Soda D’Calle
Santa Elena: HG’s Food
Guadalupe (between Monte Verde and La Fortuna): Soda Río Piedras
Arenal Observatory Lodge restaurant
Arenal Oasis Ecolodge restaurant
Other expenses: 300 € (groceries for breakfast, drinks, ice cream, souvenirs, etc.)
Total overall: 6065 € (about 2020 € per person).
Now, here’s the day-by-day account of this beautiful trip.