First of all, a big thank you to all the VoyageForum contributors who helped us plan our itinerary.
Introduction: There are three of us—a couple and a friend—all retired, aged 70. We spent four weeks in Madagascar, our first trip there, accompanied by a guide and a 4x4 driver-mechanic. We decided on the trip in June, and the process of requesting quotes, planning the itinerary, buying flight tickets, and applying for visas was quick. We finalized everything by the end of June.
Vehicle: The car was a Nissan Patrol, not new but well-maintained, and it served us perfectly. We had a few minor repairs—wheel bearings to change, a broken bull bar, and two flat tires throughout the trip. There was no air conditioning, so we drove with the windows open, which meant a bit of dust. In full sun, temperatures could reach 37/38°C.
Itinerary: The route started in Antananarivo upon arrival from the Air France flight from Roissy to Ivato and ended four weeks later at the same airport, passing through Antsirabe, Miandrivazo, the Tsiribihina River descent, Belo sur Tsiribihina, the Tsingy de Bemahara, the Avenue of the Baobabs, Morondava, Belo sur Mer, Morombe, Salary, Ifaty–Tulear, Ranohira, Fianarantsoa, the FCE train, Manakara, the Pangalanes Canal, Ranomafana, the Anja Reserve, and Ambositra.
Our local agency: The trip was organized with the help and logistical support of a local agency based in Antsirabe—a small, efficient, and enthusiastic team run by Élodie and her guide Manantsoa. If you'd like their contact details, feel free to message me directly. We have nothing but praise for them!
The roads: Travel was by 4x4 on rough, uneven tracks. We didn’t plan long stages to spare our backs, averaging a maximum of 5 to 6 hours per day. As for the RN7, the island’s most touristy road, there were no major issues. The Fianarantsoa Côte Est (FCE) train: This is the only train connecting Fianarantsoa to Manakara on the east coast. Taking it is an epic adventure—it takes an average of 17/18 hours to cover the 165 km between the two cities, passing through 17 stations, countless tunnels, and bridges. We left at 7 AM and arrived around 1:30 AM, but it was a direct way to connect with the local population at every stop. Even though we were comfortably seated in first class, we got a small glimpse of the harsh living conditions of the locals. One striking detail: on the last 80 km before Manakara, there wasn’t a single light—it was pitch black!
The Tsiribihina River descent: You can choose between a motorized barge or a rowed pirogue, depending on your comfort level. We opted for the motorized barge with a crew that included our guide, the captain, two sailors, and a cook. There was an upper deck for sunbathing and relaxing, and we slept in tents set up by the crew. The toilets were dry, and we showered with cold water from a waterfall—no complaints! The pirogue is more basic. It’s a slow, timeless journey along the river, with stunning landscapes, friendly locals, and diverse wildlife—lemurs, herons, birds of prey, kingfishers, and more.
Safety: The main safety concern on the roads is classic prevention—no flashy jewelry or visible valuables. In high-risk areas, vehicles travel in convoys escorted by the army, police, or gendarmerie. Elsewhere, our guide and driver handled "difficulties" like local "tolls," river crossings, and ferries with resourcefulness and calm. We never felt in danger during the four weeks, though we avoided driving or walking at night.
Accommodation: We chose mid-range hotels, always with private bathrooms and showers in the room. Sometimes there was no hot water, and water pressure was inconsistent, but that was city-wide, so we understood. In more touristy areas, the hotels were slightly better, though there’s still a long way to go to meet our standards! For the Tsiribihina descent, the crew set up a protected area for toilets and cold showers. We could even shower under the waterfall in the morning—cold and invigorating, but amazing!
Food: We ate well, whether it was European or Malagasy cuisine. The food was tasty and plentiful. The staple is rice—when imported from China or Myanmar, the quality isn’t always consistent. It’s served with everything. Zebu (beef) is good, and pork is less common but decent. Poultry isn’t raised in battery farms like at home; it’s free-range, tasty, but a bit tough. There’s a variety of vegetables, though we missed fresh fruit—it wasn’t the right season. Bananas and pineapples were abundant, with a few mangoes and oranges. On the coast, seafood was a treat—fish, shellfish, crabs, lobsters, sea cicadas, oysters, and more. Near Antananarivo, there’s a town called Behenjy specializing in foie gras, though in the heat, it’s not ideal for tasting. For local "hotely" restaurants (serving Malagasy food), it’s best to ask your guide to pick the best ones. As for tap water and raw vegetables, forget about them during your stay! We preferred to dine at the hotel to avoid nighttime outings, except in rare cases where a quality restaurant was nearby.
The people: It’s an understatement to say that Madagascar suffers from endemic poverty. In the cities, homeless people—men, women, children, even newborns—sleep on the streets or in makeshift shelters. The villages we passed through weren’t much better, and the remote ones we didn’t see are likely even worse. People lack everything—running water, electricity, schools, infrastructure—especially in the southern villages. Yet the land and rice fields seem to yield abundant harvests, and in desert areas, zebu farming is a way of life. The sea provides its riches—fish, lobsters, octopus, crabs, and more. Given the lack of education and income, begging is everywhere, a bit persistent but never aggressive. Bring as many things to give away as you can, and leave with empty hands—or rather, suitcases full of souvenirs! Let’s pay tribute to NGOs and religious institutions doing incredible work. On a personal level, we can only reflect, feel a bit of outrage, and act against this injustice. The Malagasy people don’t deserve this level of poverty. They’re also very religious—Catholic, Protestant, Adventist, Seventh-day Adventist, Jehovah’s Witness churches, and more, flourish across the island. In short, the people are welcoming, resigned, but so endearing and friendly!
Landscapes: The Tsingy, baobabs of all shapes and sizes—big, small, round, slender—the pristine beaches and Polynesian-like lagoons with deep blue waters between Tulear and Morombe, the rocks of the Isalo Massif reminiscent of the Wild West, the primary forests of Ranomafana, the red laterite landscapes of the Highlands dotted with villages, terraced rice fields, sunrises and sunsets on the east and west coasts, the views from the FCE train, the tranquility of the Pangalanes Canal (a bit like Kerala), the Vezo villages (nomads of the sea), the lagoon dotted with colorful square sails of Vezo fishermen—it’s all fantastic and varied!
Local transport: Overloaded bush taxis or trucks, zebu carts, rickshaws, tuk-tuks, and even carts pulled by people—it’s even more shocking!
Wildlife: The stars: - Lemurs—diurnal and nocturnal—there are so many to see, and you can spend hours watching them! - Chameleons—all shapes, sizes, and colors!
Climate: During our four weeks in September and October 2019 (we’d only been back for three days), we had just one day of rain. It was warm and pleasant everywhere during the trip. A light sweater for the evenings and waterproof clothing for rainy days are a good idea. Don’t forget sunglasses, swimsuits, sunscreen, mosquito repellent, malaria prophylaxis, flip-flops, hiking shoes for the parks, and all the usual essentials—nothing out of the ordinary!
Expenses: For half-board (breakfast and dinner), including transport (fuel), guide and driver, park entry fees, and local park guides, the cost was 2300 € per person for the four weeks. On top of that, you’ll need to add flight tickets, drinks, and lunch (around 5–10 € depending on your choices), as well as tips and personal expenses.
In short, we came back CHARMED.
Our thanks to ÉLODIE and MANANTSOA, as well as the drivers PAPOOSE and ROBERT.


























A little sneak peek?











I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far-from-exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
And in Kyoto, the Nishiki Market:







Since Albania isn’t part of Europe when it comes to phone service (at least not yet! :-)), we had to buy a physical SIM card—otherwise, the bill would’ve been sky-high if we’d used our French plan! We got one from Vodafone AL at the airport. You can buy online before leaving with a virtual SIM (e-SIM) for compatible phones, so you don’t have to swap cards. But given the uncertainty about choosing a plan online, we preferred buying one directly at Tirana Airport. Cost: 31 € for 100 GB. That’s way too much—100 GB is overkill. For 40 GB, it’s 27 €, and the plan lasts 21 days. The price difference isn’t huge, and it was cheaper than online. This plan covers all the countries along the Balkan range.
Money tip: All guesthouses and accommodations accept euros. The local currency in Albania is the LEK. In Montenegro, it’s the euro. Bank fees for withdrawing money from an ATM in Albania are pretty steep: 8 € for a withdrawal of 600–700 LEK (about 200 €)! So it’s better to withdraw cash (euros) in France. Oh, and we booked all our accommodations before leaving, but payment is always in cash. Budget around 400–500 € for 9 days of trekking.
I really liked Shköder, especially its pedestrian street lined with restaurants and lit up at night. It’s a great place to stroll and eat. The food isn’t expensive—two big salads and two beers: 14 € :-) . Fruit prices are also very reasonable: 3 € for a kilo of cherries, compared to 9–10 € in France.
Religions coexist peacefully in these countries—Catholics and Muslims. From our balcony, my friend heard the call to prayer for the first time, coming from one of the city’s mosques.


We slept in the heights of Theth at a new guesthouse, "Mountain Vista Shkafi," with an amazing view.








But Bologna’s real charm lies in its porticoes, which were added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2021: 62 km of arcades running along buildings, letting you walk sheltered from the sun or rain. Back in 1288, the city required houses to include private arcades for public use. In the city center, you can stroll under 32 km of porticoes in all sorts of styles—some plain, some ornate—with a strong presence of red tones.























Ooooooooh, giants!
Oh, how I love them! In the North, we have lots of these giants, like Reuze Papa and Reuze Maman in Cassel, or Gayant, Marie, and their children Binbin, Jacquot, and Fillon in Douai, and many more.
What’s more, the Ducasse of Ath is remarkable for its age and local roots; a procession was first mentioned in 1399, and today the many musical groups are still local (Ath and surrounding towns). The event is extremely popular: a good part of the population is there, all generations mixed together. Everyone knows the groups, floats, and giants, and each has their favorite! Originally, religious groups paraded, illustrating episodes from the Bible or the Golden Legend. Gradually, the parade became secular and kept evolving by adding new giants, historical figures, or allegories linked to local history (Ath, Belgian Hainaut, Belgium).
To wrap up this long introduction, know that the Ducasse of Ath lasts several days, but the highlight is the highly codified procession that takes place on the 4th Sunday of August (actually, the procession passes twice, once in the morning and once in the afternoon).


It’s followed by a human giant on stilts: "Saint Christopher of Flobecq," holding a flowered staff and carrying Christ on his shoulders (this time, not a real child!). It appeared in the 19th century, then disappeared from the procession before being reintroduced in 1976.







Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.