Arrivée de bonne heure à Kuala Lumpur en provenance de Paris. Le vol à bord de l’A380 d’Air Malaysia a été agréable, et on est même en avance sur l’horaire prévu. Les formalités sont rapides, et pour rejoindre la capitale située à presque 1 heure de l’aéroport, nous choisissons de prendre un taxi qui, à quatre, coûte juste un peu plus cher que le bus. De plus, comme le tarif est fixe (il suffit d’acheter un coupon que l’on remet au conducteur), pas de mauvaise surprise ! Seule difficulté, le chauffeur semble ne pas connaitre notre petit hôtel, mais finalement nous y arrivons sans encombre. Nous logeons au Rainforest Bed and Breakfast où nous disposons pour 200 ringgits (l’équivalent de 50 €) d’une chambre familiale avec clim, salle de bain, télévision, wifi et petit déjeuner compris. Ça semble propre et calme : bonne pioche ! Rapidement, nous partons à la découverte de la ville et nous nous rendons en monorail dans les quartiers chinois et indiens. La Malaisie est un pays musulman, et pas mal de femmes se promènent avec un voile, plus rarement un niqab. Il fait très chaud et le ciel est bizarre, tout opaque. Renseignement pris, cette brume provient de Sumatra, grande île indonésienne située à 150 km à l’ouest, où la forêt a été incendiée pour la remplacer par des plantations de palmiers à huile. Presque toute la péninsule malaise est concernée, jusqu’à Singapour. Beaucoup de personnes portent un masque sur le visage car l’air est assez toxique. Lucie ne se sent d’ailleurs pas très bien… Nous ne sommes pas emballés par ce Chinatown assez sale et sa rue couverte de Jalan Petaling où la plupart des commerces proposent des contrefaçons. Sur le marché, les produits ne sont pas particulièrement appétissants avec les poissons et la viande proposés sans aucune réfrigération alors qu’il fait près de 35°. Nous visitons un temple indien, non sans avoir oublié de nous déchausser. Puis nous rentrons à l’hôtel faire une pause, et nous nous accordons même une petite sieste d’une heure car nous commençons à ressentir les 6 heures de décalage et le fait d’avoir peu dormi dans l’avion. A quelques minutes à pied, Kuala Lumpur nous montre un autre visage, celui de la modernité. Le pays est relativement riche du fait de la présence de pétrole, et les galeries commerciales sont nombreuses avec toutes les marques internationales vendues chez nous. On n’y rencontre pas non plus la même population que dans les quartiers plus populaires. Parmi les buildings qui ont poussé depuis plusieurs années, les plus emblématiques sont les Petronas Twin Towers qui furent un temps les plus hautes du monde. Malheureusement, le manque de luminosité lié à la brume ne sous permet pas de faire de belles photos. Le quartier de notre hôtel est bien sympa, avec de nombreux commerces et restaurants. Nous y dinons de notre premier « chicken rice » du voyage, à moins de 2 €…
Nuit assez courte du fait du décalage horaire, surtout pour Ludo qui se réveille à 3 heures de matin. Petit déjeuner correct (café, thé, toasts, céréales, fruits) dans la grande salle commune. Celle-ci est plutôt agréable, toute boisée, avec un coin salon-télé, des ordinateurs en libre-service, des livres, etc. Dehors, le ciel est toujours voilé, et il a été décidé de fermer les écoles, démontrant ainsi la toxicité de cette brume. Nous nous rendons à la gare Sentral (en malais dans le texte) afin de prendre un train pour les grottes de Batu. Certains wagons sont réservés aux femmes et le train est d’une propreté parfaite. Batu se trouve dans la banlieue de Kuala Lumpur et le trajet ne dure qu’une grosse demi-heure. Ces grottes sont le lieu du plus grand sanctuaire indou en dehors d’Inde. On est accueilli par de nombreux macaques qui vivent des offrandes et de ce qu’ils peuvent grappiller aux visiteurs. Mieux vaut rester prudent ! Nous en avons même observé un occupé à déboucher une petite bouteille de coca ! Pour atteindre la grotte principale, il faut monter un escalier très raide de 272 marches. Le site est très sympa avec différents temples indous colorés et l’immense statue dorée en bas de l’escalier. Nous passons surtout beaucoup de temps à regarder les macaques très agiles et très amusants… De retour à Kuala Lumpur, nous poursuivons notre visite par les principaux sites coloniaux dont l’ancienne gare et le palais du sultan sur l’immense place de la libération, puis par le jardin botanique où l’on peut voir de magnifiques orchidées. Nous rentrons ensuite à l’hôtel à pied, bien que ce ne soit pas à côté et que la ville ne soit pas très adaptée pour marcher d’un quartier à un autre. La capitale est sillonnée de larges routes avec peu d’aménagement pour les piétons (pas toujours de trottoirs). Pour le dîner, nous restons dans le quartier et nous rendons sur Jalan Alor, une rue bordée de nombreux restaurants. Le coin est très animé et pourrait vraiment être agréable sans le passage incessant de voitures au ras des terrasses. Les serveurs sont également très entreprenants afin qu’on s’installe dans leur restaurant. Nous sommes finalement attirés par un simple stand de brochettes très appétissantes : viandes, légumes, poissons, fruits de mer, il y en a pour tous les goûts et à des prix dérisoires. Nous nous installons à l’arrière, faisant cuire les légumes dans une cuve d’eau en ébullition au milieu de la table, pendant que les autres brochettes sont en train de frire sur une sorte de plancha. Nous en profitons pour aller chercher une portion de riz dans un autre stand juste à côté, et des boissons à un troisième. C’est pratique ce système ! Les brochettes sont vraiment excellentes, servies avec plusieurs sauces plus ou moins épicées. Nous nous régalons ! Nous finissons la soirée aux pieds des tours jumelles Petronas. De nuit, c’est très joli, avec un parc agréable et un grand bassin juste devant...
Aujourd’hui, c’est une journée de transition : nous quittons Kuala Lumpur pour Bornéo. Nous avons réservé un vol sur la compagnie Air Asia, réputée pour être la meilleure compagnie low-cost au monde. Ce qui est sûr, c’est que ses tarifs sont imbattables : l’équivalent de 26 € pour un vol d’environ 3 heures. Et encore, ça comprend les suppléments « bagage en soute » et « choix du siège »… Air Asia est tellement développée en Asie, principalement au départ de Kuala Lumpur, qu’elle dispose de son propre aéroport qu’elle partage un peu avec d’autres compagnies low-cost. Pour rallier l’aéroport, nous nous rendons en monorail à la gare Sentral, d’où partent régulièrement des bus. Le trajet dure environ 1 heure. L’aéroport aussi est un peu low-cost. Nous passons nous-mêmes nos bagages de soute dans la machine à rayons X, mais le contrôleur ne contrôle pas grand-chose et pose systématiquement un autocollant signifiant que tout va bien. Tous les voyageurs Air Asia pour Bornéo se retrouvent dans la même salle d’embarquement, quelque soit la ville de destination. C’est un peu le bazar, d’autant plus que les écrans, indiquant le départ des avions, sont en panne. Ce qui est sûr, c’est que c’est optimisé au maximum : l’avion atterrit, se gare juste devant la salle d’embarquement, des passagers descendent, d’autres montent, et c’est reparti. Tout ça en pas plus d’une ½ heure ! Notre Airbus A320 a l’air très récent, mais pas de chance, il a 1 heure de retard. Le vol se passe bien, mais les nuages ne nous permettent pas vraiment de profiter de la vue. Nous arrivons à Sandakan avec 1 heure de retard. Avec 400.000 habitants, c’est la 2ème ville du Sabah, l’état malaisien du nord de Bornéo, et l’aéroport est minuscule. Curieusement, on repasse au guichet d’immigration. Pour aller en ville, nous délaissons les taxis pour attendre un bus qui passe en principe à proximité de l’aéroport. Nous ne savons pas s’il a fini par passer à l’arrêt où nous attendions, car au bout d’un ¼ d’heure, une voiture s’arrête, et un employé de l’aéroport, qui rentre chez lui, nous propose de nous emmener. Les filles sont ravies : elles ont l’impression d’être dans Pékin Express ! Le conducteur nous indique quand même qu’il voudrait un petit dédommagement de 14 ringgits (soit 3,50 €). Comme le taxi nous aurait coûté environ le double, et que la nuit commence à tomber, nous acceptons. Au passage, il nous dit que l’hôtel que nous avons choisi est vieux et moche, et qu’il en connait un bien mieux, mais nous ne nous montrons pas intéressés. Arrivés justement à l’hôtel, Géraldine lui tend la somme convenue, mais il y a erreur, ce n’est pas 14 mais 40 ringgits qu’il attendait. Bien entendu nous n’acceptons pas, et d’autant moins que ça aurait finalement coûté beaucoup plus qu’un vrai taxi. Vu de la rue, le May Fair Hotel n’est pas très engageant, mais les chambres sont très bien, toutes simples mais d’une propreté irréprochable. Avec une salle de bain, la clim, le wifi et la télé par satellite (pour suivre Wimble-don) : il ne manque rien. Tout ça pour 100 ringgits c’est-à-dire 25 € les deux chambres ! La ville en elle-même n’est pas très jolie et nous remarquons que la très grande majorité des femmes portent le voile. Il est grand temps de rechercher un endroit pour diner, d’autant plus que les malaisiens mangent vers 18h, et que pour eux 19h c’est déjà tard. Nous nous rendons sur le bord de mer où plusieurs restaurants font face au large. Plutôt sympa ! Rien ne montre qu’un conflit armé se déroule un peu plus au sud. Des philippins ont débarqué il y a quelques mois et revendiquent un territoire du Sabah ayant historiquement appartenu à un sultan des Philippines. Cette action n’est pas soutenue par l’état Philippin, et les militaires malais semblent avoir maté les rebelles.
Pour les quelques jours à venir, nous avons réservé un guide qui doit nous faire découvrir le Bornéo que nous sommes venus chercher, avec sa nature vierge et sa faune si particulière. C’est finalement son fils qui vient nous prendre à l’hôtel et nous emmène jusqu’à Mr Aji, à Sepilok, petite ville à 25 km de Sandakan. Nous montons dans son 4x4 bien fatigué et prenons la route de Sukau à environ 2 heures de là. Mr Aji est un photographe animalier passionné et l’intérieur de son véhicule est tapissé de nombreuses de ses prises. C’est au long du trajet que nous découvrons les ravages de la déforestation : presque partout nous ne voyons que des palmiers à huile bien alignés. Si, contrairement à ce qu’on pense souvent, l’huile de palme n’est pas particulièrement néfaste pour la santé, ce sont surtout les effets sur la flore et la faune qui sont dramatiques. La forêt primaire est en grande partie détruite et les animaux, avec un espace de vie restreint à quelques poches de nature préservée, ont vu leur population s’effondrer. Tout ça pour que l’industrie agro-alimentaire augmente ses bénéfices en utilisant ce produit peu cher, car même si l’on ne mange pas de Nutella, difficile d’y échapper chez nous. En Malaisie, la surface des plantations de palmiers à huile serait stabilisée, mais ce n’est pas le cas en Indonésie (Sumatra et autre partie de Bornéo). Après la pause déjeuner dans un petit restaurent indien où le patron tient à nous faire goûter quelques-unes de ses spécialités, nous poursuivons vers Sukau où s’arrête la route. C’est un petit village au bord de la rivière Kinabatangan et nous logeons chez une famille d’indonésiens qui a transformé sa maison pour accueillir quelques touristes (Evergreen Lodge). Une autre famille d’australiens parlant russe (!!) est déjà là depuis la veille. Les chambres sont simples mais propres, avec salle de bain et ventilateur. On se sent un peu au milieu de nulle part… ce qui n’est pas loin d’être la réalité. Alors que nous nous s’apprêtons à faire une sortie en bateau sur la rivière, une terrible averse s’abat sur le village et repousse le départ d’une heure. La pluie n’est pas complètement terminée lorsque nous embarquons et prenons la direction d’une rivière plus étroite que celle qui passe devant notre lodge. Ce temps maussade n’est pas le plus approprié pour observer des animaux, mais l’œil averti de Mr Aji nous permet de voir des macaques à longue queue, des nasiques, un énorme varan, un aigle, un martin pêcheur. Le manque de luminosité, lié à la météo et à l’heure avancée de la journée, ne permet pas toujours de réussir les photos, surtout au zoom. Mais peu importe, les aléas du climat équatorial ne vont pas diminuer notre plaisir d’être là ! De retour au lodge et après l’excellent repas préparé par nos hôtes, nous repartons à pied pour la forêt toute proche, équipés de lampe de poche car il fait nuit noire. C’est assez impressionnant de se retrouver dans la jungle dans ces conditions. Ici, l’intérêt d’avoir un guide ne fait aucun doute : sans lui nous n’aurions probablement rien vu hormis des lucioles ! Car c’est bien souvent en soulevant une feuille que nous découvrons insectes, araignées, lézards, grenouilles et même oiseaux assoupis. Tous se confondent avec l’environnement. Notre rencontre la plus excitante est celle d’un chat sauvage marbré qui apparaitra et disparaitra plusieurs fois dans nos faisceaux lumineux. Moins sympa, les sangsues dont nous éviterons tout de même les piqûres.
Aujourd’hui il fait très beau, mais avec l’humidité importante liée à la pluie de la veille, il risque d’y avoir de nombreuses sangsues dans la forêt, et la seconde balade prévue à l’aube est reportée au milieu de matinée. Cela nous permet de prendre tranquillement notre petit déjeuner et de visiter un peu le village où plusieurs autres habitations peuvent accueillir des visiteurs. Mais que c’est calme, pas un centre commercial à l’horizon ! On se rend compte aussi que Sukau est cerné de plantations de palmiers à huile et que la surface préservée est finalement assez réduite. Cette seconde balade en forêt est plus tranquille que celle de la nuit passée car on voit où l’on met les pieds ! Mais le guide en profite pour sortir des sentiers et nous marchons souvent dans de hautes herbes. Sur ses conseils, et malgré la chaleur humide, nous portons des manches et des pantalons dans les chaussettes afin d’éviter les sangsues. La forêt est assez dense avec un enchevêtrement incroyable de branches, de lianes et de racines. Nous observons une faune assez proche de celle de la veille : papillons, phasmes, grenouilles, araignées, oiseaux, écureuils. Des crottes d’éléphants aussi, mais pas de singe ! Nous découvrons que les orangs-outans vivent dans des nids perchés en haut des arbres, un peu comme… le marsupilami. Mais les nids que nous voyons sont malheureusement vides. Une nouvelle balade en bateau est prévue pour l’après-midi, cette fois sous le soleil. Ne pas oublier la crème solaire et l’eau ! Mr Aji ne pilote pas lui-même car il est toujours à l’affut du moindre animal, prêt à dégainer son appareil photo équipé d’un zoom impressionnant. Les premiers à se montrer sont des sangliers, et non pas des phacochères, Jeanne ! Elle a des excuses : durant nos voyages, elle a vu beaucoup plus de phacochères que de sangliers ! D’une rive à l’autre de la rivière Kinabatangan, nous observons beaucoup de singes : des macaques à longue queue et des nasiques avec leur long nez, mais ils se trouvent souvent en haut des arbres. Et c’est finalement sur un des affluents, beaucoup plus étroit, que nous les approchons le plus. Le guide fait tout son possible pour trouver des orangs-outans. Plusieurs nids sont visibles mais aucun « homme de la forêt » ne se montre. Nous patientons un bon moment à proximité d’un nid dans lequel nous avons vu bougé un bras, mais malheureusement notre observation se limitera à cela. Durant la balade, nous voyons plusieurs espèces d’oiseaux : aigles, anhingas, martins-pêcheurs et les magnifiques calaos. Le plus étonnant est de tomber sur un troupeau d’une vingtaine d’éléphants pygmées qu’on n’imagine pas trop dans cet environnement, bien qu’ils soient environ un millier à vivre au Sabah. Ils ne seraient d’ailleurs pas originaires de Bornéo, et auraient été introduits il y a de nombreuses années par le Sultan de Sulu, avant d’être abandonnés dans la nature. Mais avec la disparition de la jungle, leur existence est très menacée. Nous retournons au lodge à la nuit tombante, ravis de cette journée fantastique même si nous n’avons vu d’orang-outan (un bras furtif, ça ne compte pas vraiment). Après le diner, toujours délicieux, nous profitons sereinement de ces derniers moments sur la terrasse couverte, protégés par de petits lézards qui font des moustiques leur repas favoris.
Lever à 6h30 pour le petit-déjeuner, puis départ à 7h30. C’est avec regret que nous quittons Sukau, mais la prestation de notre guide n’est pas terminée. Sur le trajet du retour, nous prenons la route des grottes de Gomantong (bien que la visite de celles-ci ne soit pas au programme). La route traverse une forêt très dense où Mr Aji espère pouvoir nous montrer des orangs-outans. Mais décidément, la chance n’est pas avec nous ! Nous découvrons cependant des Red Leaf Monkeys, dont le nom en français est… incertain. Ce sont des singes bien plus rares que les macaques. Tout comme la veille, le guide propose à Jeanne de faire de photos sur sa carte mémoire. Nous voyons aussi de beaux calaos avec leur énorme casque sur la tête. Notre visite se termine là, et Mr Aji nous ramène à l’aéroport de Sandakan. Pourtant, nous n’avons pas prévu de prendre l’avion aujourd’hui, mais c’est là que nous avons fixé rendez-vous à un loueur de voiture qui ne viendra finalement jamais. Heureu-sement, l’agence Hertz a des véhicules disponibles et nous prenons rapidement possession d’une Hyundai Matrix. Bien que les bus locaux soient assez nombreux et aient plutôt bonne réputation, nous avons décidé de louer une voiture afin d’être indépendants, de gagner du temps, et de pouvoir accéder à certains coins isolés. Nous le regrettons d’autant moins que les malais semblent ne pas avoir une conduite à risque, la difficulté étant plutôt le manque de panneaux indicateurs. Notre première étape est courte puisqu’elle nous mène à Sepilok, à 25 km de là. Nous logeons au Sepilok Bed and Breakfast, situé dans un grand parc, où nous disposons de 2 chambres avec salle de bain, ventilateur et wifi pour 136 ringgits (34 €), petit déjeuner compris. Nous nous rendons à pied au centre de réhabilitation des orangs-outans qui est le but de notre étape à Sepilok. Ils sont environ 70 à vivre ici en semi-liberté dans un territoire de près de 5000 hectares. Bien entendu, ils seraient bien mieux dans leur forêt mais celle-ci ayant considérablement été réduite, le centre est devenu incontournable pour les protéger et les étudier. Si on peut espérer en voir, c’est qu’ils sont nourris 2 fois par jour. Pourtant aucune certitude, certains jours aucun singe n’apparait à l’heure du repas… Mais nous avons de la chance car en arrivant au centre, il y a un orang-outang qui fait le pitre autour du bureau d’accueil, sans se soucier de la présence des visiteurs. Sur le chemin qui mène au lieu de nourrissage, nous apercevons un serpent assoupi dans un buisson. Une dizaine d’orangs-outans sont finalement présents et nous les observons durant environ une heure se goinfrer de fruits, se suspendre par les pattes arrières et se déplacer avec une agilité incroyable. Il y en a des grands, des petits, des jeunes, des vieux, et même une mère avec son bébé. Leur comportement est vraiment amusant et a parfois quelque chose d’humain. Quelle tristesse de savoir qu’ils sont en danger du fait de la déforestation à Bornéo et à Sumatra. De retour à l’hôtel, nous tombons sur une jeune française qui voyage en Asie après avoir bénéficié pendant plusieurs mois d’un visa « tourisme et travail » en Nouvelle-Zélande. Elle dit trouver la Malaisie très cher, avec des tarifs souvent au double de ce qu’elle trouvait en Indonésie sur l’île de Sumatra. Le restaurant de l’hôtel est très agréable, et il y a même une cible pour jouer aux fléchettes.
Les lecteurs de Tintin connaissent le nasique, ce singe au long nez qui apparait dans l’album « Vol 714 pour Sydney » alors que l’avion du héros est forcé d’atterrir à Bornéo. Et bien nous y sommes ! Même si nous en avons vu lors de notre périple sur les bords de la rivière Kinabatangan, l’envie est forte de nous rendre à Labuk Bay, une réserve de nasiques un peu semblable à celle des orangs-outans de Sepilok, et cela d’autant plus que nous n’en sommes qu’à quelques kilomètres. Il faut savoir que même si ces singes ne sont pas rares sur l’île, ils vivent exclusivement à Bornéo. La réserve de Labuk Bay se trouve en lisière d’une plantation de palmiers à huile que nous devons traverser. Quelques ouvriers sont au travail et il faut bien avouer que couper ces gros fruits à l’aide d’une sorte de faucille au bout d’un long manche doit être une tâche bien pénible. Pour être plus précis, le fruit (appelé « drupe ») ne fait que quelques centimètres, mais un régime peut se composer de plus de 1000 fruits, et c’est le noyau des drupes qui est très riche en lipides. Les nasiques de Labuk Bay sont nourris à heure fixe, et alors que nous empruntons une passerelle en bois menant à l’une des plateformes de nourrissage, nous pouvons voir des crabes de mangrove, ainsi que de curieux poissons à pattes, les périophtalmes, qui sortent complètement de l’eau. Là, j’étale ma science J ! En fait, ce sont leurs nageoires pectorales qui les aident à se maintenir hors de l’eau, alors qu’une cavité retient de l’eau et humecte leurs branchies. Quant aux nasiques, ils sont déjà là. Ils vivent en groupes très importants et nous pouvons longuement les voir sauter d’une branche à l’autre. Quelle allure étrange avec ce gros nez mou ! Celui des mâles est d’ailleurs bien plus démesuré que celui des femelles. Nous nous rendons ensuite sur une seconde plateforme où un autre nourrissage doit avoir lieu. Elle est peuplée d’un groupe de « silver leaf » , des petits singes tellement habitués à la présence humaine qu’on peut prendre facilement les jeunes dans les bras. Les nasiques sont ici aussi très nombreux, et une fois la nourriture engloutie, des écureuils et des calaos s’approchent pour finir les restes. Avant de quitter la réserve, nous apercevons un gros varan à proximité d’une flaque d’eau. Au bord de la route, il y a toujours autant de plantations de palmiers à huile, du moins tant que le paysage est assez plat. Nous nous arrêtons acheter des bananes dans un petit marché pour un prix dérisoire. Progressivement, le relief devient plus marqué et la route s’élève jusqu’à environ 1500 mètres, au pied du mont Kinabalu qui lui dépasse les 4000 mètres. C’est là que nous choisissons de faire étape alors que la pluie fait son apparition. A cette altitude, il fait bien plus frais. Après avoir visité un hôtel juste en face de l’entrée du parc national du Kinabalu, nous nous rabattons finalement vers le D’villa Rina Ria Lodge qui propose un bungalow avec 2 chambres pour 180 ringgits (45 €) avec petit-déjeuner. Ici le climat fait qu’il y a pas besoin de clim ni de ventilateur. Nous nous rendons d’ailleurs compte un peu tard que nous n’avons peut-être pas fait un bon choix car les fenêtres ferment mal et en plus de la fraicheur liée à l’altitude et à la pluie, on entend bien le bruit de la route toute proche. Le restaurant que nous choisirons ce soir-là ne sera d’ailleurs pas une réussite non plus. Il y a des jours comme ça...
La nuit a été assez difficile à cause du bruit de la circulation et du froid (relatif), mais la pluie s’est arrêtée et il fait plutôt beau. Bien que nous soyons décidés à rester une journée entière dans le coin, nous plions bagages et chercherons un autre hôtel un peu plus tard. Nous pénétrons dans le parc national du Kinabalu. Nous avons choisi de ne pas grimper au sommet car il faut avoir réservé à l’avance et l’obligation de prendre un guide revient à environ 250 € par personne, sans parler de la difficulté de la montée proprement dite. Nous nous contentons donc des sentiers situés dans la forêt au pied du mont Kinabalu, et il y a déjà de quoi faire. Il ne fait pas très chaud : tout juste 20°. Nous empruntons différents chemins bien balisés mais assez difficiles. Le paysage est très beau avec cette forêt primaire très dense. On pourrait regretter de n’avoir aucun panorama sur la montagne, mais celle-ci se trouve dans les nuages. C’est parfois raide et il faut s’agripper à des racines ou à des rochers. De plus, l’humidité ambiante rend les sentiers glissants et augmente le risque de présence des sangsues. Nous espérions voir des oiseaux, des papillons, peut-être des singes ou de petits mammifères, mais rien, pas un bruit. Nous ne croisons d’ailleurs personne. Ce qui est marquant, c’est la couleur verte, partout. Rares sont les fleurs. Ici l’expression « enfer vert » prend toute sa dimension car les grands arbres et la végétation luxuriante permettent à peine de distinguer le ciel. A force de marcher sur un sol détrempé, on finit par récupérer des sangsues sur les chaussures. Mais un seul se fait piquer : Ludo ! Le pantalon c’est bien, mais pas les chaussettes courtes. Erreur de débutant ! D’un autre côté, au-delà de l’aspect répugnant de la bête, la piqure de sangsue n’est pas douloureuse et ne transmet aucune maladie. Géraldine se charge, non sans difficulté, de décrocher la bestiole. Après quelques heures de balade, nous nous remettons à la recherche d’un hôtel plus agréable que celui de la veille, et nous mettons peu de temps à nous décider pour le Strawberry Garden Hotel qui est accessoirement une ferme de production de fraises. La chambre familiale pour 4 ne coûte que 130 ringgits (32,50 €) avec salle de bain et wifi (toujours pas besoin de clim), mais pas de petit-déjeuner car le restaurant est en travaux. Nous nous rendons ensuite aux sources chaudes de Poring situées à une trentaine de kilomètres de là. Pour ce genre de destination, on apprécie d’avoir notre propre véhicule car le site n’est pas facilement accessible en transport en commun. Il y a toujours autant de chiens errants au bord des routes. Nous ne pouvons malheureusement pas profiter des sources chaudes car une forte pluie de remet à tomber. On comprend pourquoi c’est aussi vert dans le coin ! Sur la route du retour, nous nous arrêtons à Ranau, la grosse ville du secteur avec près de 100.000 habitants. C’est un carrefour commercial important dans la région, mais la ville en elle-même ne présente aucun intérêt si ce n’est sa situation proche du parc national du Kinabalu. On en profite pour prendre de l’essence au prix de 0,45 € le litre (on croit rêver). Le tarif est fixé par l’Etat et il n’y a aucune différence d’une station à une autre. En soirée, nous dinons au Nabalu Lodge Cafe and Bakery. C’est propre, bon et le personnel est sympathique : tout l’inverse de la veille !
La nuit a été bien plus agréable que la précédente, et comme il fait très beau ce matin, on peut enfin voir le mont Kinabalu dans toute sa splendeur avec ses 4095 mètres. Nous quittons donc les hauteurs du Sabah, mais la route continue de nous offrir de magnifiques panoramas sur les montagnes environnantes. Elle est toujours très fréquentée car c’est la seule liaison terrestre qui existe entre les deux villes les plus importantes du Sabah : Sandakan à l’est (d’où nous venons) et Kota Kinabalu à l’ouest (où nous arriverons… prochainement). Un peu plus loin, nous abandonnons justement cette route en direction du nord. Les paysages sont toujours très beaux et quelques paysans s’affairent dans des rizières. Nous traversons plusieurs villages bien calmes, certaines habitations construites de l’autre côté de la rivière ne sont accessibles que par un pont de singes brinquebalant. Arrivés dans la ville de Kota Belud, encombrée par la circulation, nous retrouvons une température de 32° et faisons le plein d’eau avant de poursuivre toujours vers le nord. La route devient alors nettement moins bonne. Sans la moindre indication, de grandes plaques de bitumes font place à des gros graviers, nous obligeant à réduire considérablement notre vitesse. Quelques plantations de palmiers à huile font leur réapparition, mais de manière bien moins importante que ce qui existe dans l’est du Sabah. Nous finissons par arriver à Kudat, la grande ville du nord (70.000 habitants) qui fut d’ailleurs la capitale, à la fin du 19ème siècle, de ce qui s’appelait encore le British North Borneo. Il n’y a quasiment pas touristes dans cet important port de pêche peuplé de nombreux philippins venus de leurs îles toutes proches. Le seul hôtel sur lequel nous avons trouvé des informations sur internet est le Ria Hotel, qui est très bien, mais à 238 ringgits la nuit, dépasse le budget qu’on s’était fixé. Nous logeons finalement à l’Upper Deck Hotel, aussi bien que l’autre mais moins cher. Pour 198 ringgits (moins de 50 €), nous avons 2 chambres modernes, avec salle de bain, clim, télé, wifi, mais surtout une vue magnifique sur le port et toute la baie. Une de nos toutes meilleures adresses ! Il n’y a pas grand-chose à voir dans la ville à part le port (plutôt calme en ce milieu d’après- midi), et un temple chinois. Ce qui nous a attiré ici, c’est le Tip of Borneo, c’est-à-dire la pointe la plus au nord de l’île. Il nous faut encore une petite demi-heure de voiture pour nous y rendre. Le site en lui-même n’est pas très spectaculaire, juste quelques rochers plats s’enfonçant dans la Mer de Chine, mais l’atmosphère de bout du monde est bien présente car c’est très isolé et il n’y a que quelques modestes structures pour accueillir les visiteurs d’ailleurs bien rares. Juste à côté, une longue plage de sable fin complètement déserte. Nous ne pouvons pas manquer l’occasion de nous y allonger et de piquer une tête dans la mer vraiment très chaude. On se dit que dans d’autres pays, cette plage serait bordée de complexes hôteliers modernes… De retour à Kudat, nous dinons dans un petit restaurant indien un peu boui-boui, mais très bon… bien que très épicé.
Depuis la chambre de notre hôtel, nous observons ce matin une intense activité dans le port de pêche juste en-dessous. Nous nous y rendons et assistons à l’arrivée de bateaux plus ou moins gros, et au déchargement de poissons de toutes sortes, de toutes tailles et de toutes les couleurs. Certains sont rouges vifs, d’autres sont bleus, d’autres encore sont multicolores, et beaucoup mériteraient d’être présentés dans nos aquariums. Après avoir été trié, le résultat de la pêche est rapidement transporté à quelques pas de là, au marché aux poissons. Aucun doute : la marchandise est fraiche ! Ne connaissant pas la plupart des espèces, l’un des vendeurs nous nomme une à une celles de son étal. Nous quittons ensuite Kudat et reprenons en sens inverse une partie de l’itinéraire de la veille. Nous n’avons pas trop le choix car il n’y a qu’une route qui mène ici. La route, d’ailleurs, ne s’est pas améliorée depuis la veille…J Nous nous arrêtons un moment dans la petite ville de Tuaran où se dresse une pagode à 9 étages ainsi qu’un beau temple chinois. Avec une dominante rouge, c’est plutôt joli toutes ces couleurs, ces sculptures de dragons, ces estampes et ces lampions. Le temple se visite, sans aucune contrainte, ce qui n’est pas le cas des mosquées rencontrées jusqu’ici. A quelques kilomètres de là, au bord de la mer, se trouve un village sur l’eau. Il est formé d’une trentaine de maisons sur pilotis, faites de tôles et de planches, et accessibles uniquement par bateau. Les habitants semblent y vivre dans un extrême dénuement. Nous arrivons enfin à Kota Kinabalu, la capitale de la province de Sabah, peuplée de 500.000 habitants. Même si le centre est assez petit, la ville en elle-même est très étendue et il est bien difficile de s’y repérer du fait du manque d’indications et des nombreux sens uniques. Nous finissons par trouver l’hôtel que nous cherchions, le 1 City Hotel, où pour 188 ringgits (47 €) nous disposons d’une très belle chambre pour 4 (en fait une chambre triple + un matelas supplémentaire), avec salle de bain (magnifique), clim, wifi, télé par satellite, mais pas de petit-déjeuner. Par contre, en plein centre-ville, le parking est payant (mais pas cher), et après avoir eu du mal à trouver une place, nous avons encore plus de difficulté à trouver l’employée communale à qui il faut s’adresser pour payer. Kota Kinabalu est plutôt moderne, et les filles ne peuvent s’empêcher d’aller trainer dans les centres commerciaux où nous retrouvons beaucoup d’enseignes bien connues chez nous telles que H & M ou Zara. Nous nous promenons en bord de mer jusqu’au marché philippin, mais ne sommes pas particulièrement emballés par les produits proposés. C’est la fin d’après-midi, et les stands de restauration commencent à s’installer dans les rues, avec des plats préparés, des poissons ou des fruits tels que l’inévitable « durian » dont la chair sent tellement mauvais que ces fruits sont interdits dans les hôtels ou les voitures de location. Malgré quelques étals bien appétissants, et un peu lassés de la nourriture asiatique, nous nous rabattons finalement sur un restaurant Pizza Hut. Ça y est, on a craqué ! Nous nous goinfrons pour bien plus cher que nos repas habituels, l’équivalent de 21 € à quatre, mais c’est tellement moins onéreux que la même chose chez nous… De retour à l’hôtel, nous nous rendons compte que la clim ne fonctionne pas, et 30° c’est vraiment insupportable. Nous déménageons donc dans une chambre similaire disponible.
Nous commençons la journée par une petite grimpette au sommet de Signal Hill qui offre une vue intéressante sur Kota Kinabalu. Puis nous prenons la direction d’une mosquée, réputée la plus belle de la ville, et construite en l’an 2000. Le batiment est vraiment très beau, comme posé sur un lac articiel dans lequel il se reflète. La visite de cette mosquée est ouverte aux non musulmans… mais il faut avoir une tenue adéquate. Et il ne suffit pas d’avoir les jambes et les bras couverts, et les cheveux cachés pour les femmes, il faut porter une djellaba, un voile pour le femmes et un petit chapeau (?) pour les hommes. Tous ces « déguisements » sont à louer à l’entrée de la mosquée, mais là c’est trop pour nous ! Nous nous contentons donc d’en faire le tour… Nous partons ensuite à la recherche d’un village sur l’eau que nous trouvons avec difficulté. Comme celui de la veille, il n’est pas très accessible à pied, mais les maisons sur pilotis semblent en meilleur état et possèdent l’électricité. Il est temps de rejoindre l’aéroport où nous devons rendre la voiture et nous envoler pour Kuching à environ 700 km au sud-ouest, toujours sur Bornéo. Le petit soucis est que le comptoir de Hertz se trouve dans le terminal principal alors que notre avion part du terminal des compagnies low-cost situé à 7 km de là, sans aucune liaison ni transport en commun. Heureusement, l’agent de Hertz accepte de nous emmener gracieusement à l’autre aérogare. L’enregistrement auprès de la compagnie Air Asia se passe bien, mais les contrôles de sécurité nous semblent à nouveau bien légers. Et là encore, l’escale est optimisée au maximum. Le vol est assez calme, mais pas grand-chose à voir car nous survolons le plus souvent la mer. Nous aterrissons à Kuching à l’heure prévue. Avec environ 350.000 habitants, c’est la capitale du Sarawak, le second état malaisien de Bornéo. Il n’y a pas de transport en commun permettant de rejoindre le centre ville. Pour s’y rendre en taxi, le prix est fixe et il suffit d’acheter un coupon à remettre au chauffeur. Sauf que quand on indique au taxi le nom et l’adresse de notre hôtel, il ne les connait pas et passe au client suivant. Pareil avec le 2ème taxi, le 3ème, … On a l’air malin avec notre coupon dont personne ne veut ! Finalement un autre semble connaitre l’adresse et nous amène finalement à bon port. Le patron de l’hôtel est très accueillant et nous propose 2 chambres pour 130 ringgits (32,50 €) la nuit, sachant que l’on a prévu de rester 3 nuits. Elles sont simples, mais avec une salle de bain et la clim, mais celle des filles n’a pas de fenêtre (ça se fait beaucoup en Asie). La journée étant déjà bien avancée et on part rapidement faire un petit tour en ville. Il y a une longue promenade le long du fleuve vraiment très agréable. La nuit tombe déjà, et pour le dîner, nous trouvons un restaurant chinois joliment décoré et meublé, et curieusement pas cher. Au menu ce soir : canard laqué ! Après une petite promenade digestive, nous rentrons à l’hôtel. Et c’est là que nous nous rendons compte que notre chambre, donnant la rue, est très bruyante (circulation et bar Karaoké à côté), sans parler de l’odeur du tabac. Il est inimaginable de rester là… surtout 3 nuits ! Mais qu’est ce qui nous a pris d’accepter cette chambre ! Sachant l’hôtel complet, on attendra le lendemain pour demander de changer, et en attendant on déménage le matelas dans la chambre des filles, assez grande pour nous accueillir.
Après avoir indiqué au propriétaire de l’hôtel qu’on ne pouvait pas rester dans cette chambre bruyante et à l’odeur de tabac, c’est sans difficulté qu’il nous en propose une autre puisqu’il s’en est libéré plusieurs. Elle ne se situe pas au même étage que celle des filles, mais ce n’est pas bien important. Nous partons à la découverte de Kuching. Ce nom signifie « chat », et même si nous rencontrons peu de félins, les statues de chats, elles, ne manquent pas… La population de la ville se répartit en ¼ de malais, ¼ de chinois et ¼ d’ibans. Les ibans sont une ethnie originaire de Bornéo, et du Sarawak plus précisément, appartenant aux groupe des Dayaks, les fameux chasseurs de têtes. Mais cette activité ancestrale est plutôt en perte de vitesse. Même si les ibans s’urbanisent de plus en plus, ils veillent à garder leurs traditions comme vivre dans des « longhouses », des « maisons longues » regroupant toute une communauté. Qu’ils soient ibans, malais ou chinois, les habitants de Kuching sont particulièrement accueillants et gentils. La ville est plutôt agréable avec de nombreux petits commerces, tous tenus par des chinois. Alors que les pâtisseries étaient nombreuses au Sabah, ici au Sarawak nous n’en trouvons aucune. Les habitudes culinaires sont différentes. Pour notre petit-déjeuner, nous finissons donc dans un Starbucks Coffee. Là encore, toutes les grandes enseignes internationales de vêtements ou de restauration sont présentes, et les centres commerciaux modernes n’ont rien à envier à ceux que l’on rencontre chez nous. Avec ses quartiers chinois, indiens ou musulmans, la ville présente de nombreuses facettes avec une architecture variée. La visite du musée du Sarawak, installé dans un ancien bâtiment colonial, nous permet de mieux comprendre l’Histoire de ce secteur de Bornéo et de sa population indigène, les ibans. Le coin le plus sympathique de la ville est sans aucun doute la longue promenade le long du fleuve Sarawak. Les touristes, asiatiques et occidentaux, y sont d’ailleurs nombreux. Sur l’autre rive, on peut observer l’étonnant Parlement du Sarawak, avec son toit en forme de parapluie. Pensant à la suite de notre voyage, nous réservons une voiture pour le surlendemain afin de découvrir d’autres aspects de la région. Le propriétaire de l’hôtel, toujours aussi avenant, nous conseille de son côté sur la manière de nous rendre au parc national de Bako le lendemain. Ce n’est pas que ce soit compliqué, mais il faut d’abord prendre un bus, puis un petit bateau, tout en tenant compte de la marée. Grâce au Wifi disponible à l’hôtel, nous apprenons avec surprise que Marion Bartolli vient de se qualifier pour la finale de Wimbledon. Ça vaut le coup de rester connecter avec l’autre bout du monde…
Nous nous levons tôt pour prendre le bus pour le parc national de Bako à environ une heure de Kuching. Il est presque plein, surtout de touristes. En fait, le bus ne va pas jusqu’au parc national qui se situe sur une île, mais s’arrête à Kampung Bako, c’est-à-dire le village de Bako. De là, de petits bateaux (6 passagers au maximum) emmènent les visiteurs en 30 minutes jusqu’au parc national. C’est très bien organisé. Le tarif est fixe : 95 ringgits (24 €) par bateau, pour l’aller et le retour. Au départ, on longe le village avec ses maisons sur pilotis. Un panneau indique la présence possible de crocodiles marins, les plus gros de cette espèce, les mêmes que ceux qui vivent dans le nord de l’Australie. Le trajet est agréable et le paysage superbe : nous passons à côté de mangroves puis de falaises couvertes de végétation. C’est la marée basse, et le ponton étant inaccessible, nous débarquons directement sur la plage. Nous fixons le rendez-vous de retour avec le pilote de notre bateau, avant de nous rendre au bureau du parc pour nous faire enregistrer. Nous sommes accueillis par un sanglier (pas très sauvage) et quelques macaques. Nous aurions bien voulu dormir au moins une nuit ici, mais nous nous y sommes pris trop tard. Pour pénétrer au cœur de la forêt, nous choisissons le chemin dénommé Litang qui forme une boucle près de 6 kilomètres, et présente a priori des paysages variés. Le temps de promenade est estimé à 3h30. Mais le terme « promenade » n’est pas très approprié, car après un départ bien plat sur un trottoir en bois serpentant à travers la mangrove, le chemin s’élève brusquement. Il est vrai que l’île est montagneuse et les sentiers mettent bien en évidence le relief. Il faut bien l’avouer, c’est dur ! Parfois tellement raide qu’il faut s’accrocher aux racines des arbres pour avancer. Et malgré nos chaussures de randonnée, le sol est parfois glissant du fait de l’humidité importante. La forêt est magnifique, très dense, avec de nombreuses espèces végétales, mais comme toujours peu de fleurs. Parmi les plantes les plus remarquables, on peut noter les népenthès, plus connues sous la dénomination de « plantes carnivores ». Par contre de la faune, nous ne voyons rien alors que le parc est justement réputé pour cela. Nous entendons simplement quelques cris de singes ou d’oiseaux. Nous bouclons la boucle en moins de 3 heures, bien fatigués mais ravis par cette magnifique randonnée. Après une petite pause rafraichissante au bar/restaurant du parc, nous prenons la direction d’une plage isolée. Là encore, le chemin n’est pas des plus faciles, mais nous sommes récompensés par la découverte d’une très belle plage encadrée de falaises et de gros rochers. Le reste de la famille craignant la présence de méduses ou de crocodiles, seul Ludo profite du lieu pour nager un peu. Le retour au ponton des bateaux se fait un peu au pas de course afin de respecter l’heure de notre rendez-vous. Tout s’enchaine bien, le bateau puis le bus, et c’est au moment où nous rejoignons Kuching qu’il se met à pleuvoir, une pluie énorme, incroyable. En quelques instants l’eau monte dans les rues, parfois jusqu’à 25 centimètres. Bien que ce ne soit pas la saison, ça nous donne une idée de ce que peut être la mousson. A l’abri sous les porches des magasins chinois, nous sommes au spectacle de la vie locale, à peine perturbée par ce phénomène. Mais au bout d’une heure, ça ne s’est pas calmé, et nous décidons de nous faire mouiller pour rentrer à l’hôtel.
La voiture réservée 2 jours auparavant nous est livrée à l’hôtel. Elle n’est pas très grande mais suffit pour loger nos 4 sacs à dos. Nous quittons Kuching pour une brève escapade de 48 heures dans la région. Il y a peu d’indications pour quitter la ville finalement très étendue, mais une fois sortis de l’agglomération, les paysages sont plutôt sympas, très verts et avec peu de plantations de palmiers à huile. Les grottes sont nombreuses dans le secteur et nous nous arrêtons en visiter deux et tout d’abord la Wind Cave, pas facile à trouver car très mal fléchée. La grotte est sombre, avec un grand réseau de galeries, et surtout peuplée de centaines de petites chauves-souris. L’odeur est assez nauséabonde et les excréments jonchent le sol. Nous nous faisons expliquer comment rejoindre une seconde grotte, la Fairy Cave, située à quelques kilomètres de là. Celle-ci est toute petite et transformée en temple bouddhiste. Avec ses statues, ses bougies et ses offrandes, l’ambiance y est apaisante. Ce n’est qu’une fois revenus en France que nous nous rendrons compte qu’il s’agissait en fait de la... Limestone Cave. Ce n’est pas toujours facile d’être un touriste indépendant ! J Nous poursuivons vers l’ouest et la circulation se fait moins intense. Nous nous rendons au parc national de Gunung Gading réputé pour ses rafflésias, les plus grosses fleurs du monde, pouvant atteindre 1 mètre de diamètre et 10 kilos. En fait il ne s’agit pas d’une fleur mais d’un parasite. Cette plante, ressemblant au départ à une boule, met près d’un an à grandir jusqu’à sa floraison qui ne dure que 9 jours, puis elle meurt. Autant dire qu’avoir la chance de tomber sur une rafflésia en fleur est extrêmement faible. C’est pourquoi nous décidons de prendre un guide qui connait parfaitement l’emplacement des rafflésias en fleur à ce moment-là. Un ¼ d’heure de balade en forêt suffit pour atteindre la première. Avec 4 jours de floraison, elle est à son optimum et c’est vrai qu’elle est magnifique. Réputée aussi pour son odeur de viande en putréfaction, là par contre nous trouvons qu’elle ne sent absolument rien. La balade se poursuit jusqu’à une seconde rafflésia en fleur, déjà un peu flétrie. Nous apprécions cet instant rare car cette plante est une espèce très menacée. Puis le guide nous en montre une autre, pas encore éclose et qui ressemble un peu à un chou. Nous avons eu de la chance car la rafflésia est plutôt en floraison durant la saison des pluies, entre novembre et février. Nous reprenons la route vers l’ouest jusqu’à Sematan, la dernière petite ville avant la frontière avant Kalimantan, la partie indonésienne de Bornéo. Le seul hôtel de la ville n’est vraiment pas terrible, mais nous n’avons pas le choix. Les chambres sont pourtant assez spacieuses, mais la literie est défoncée et les sanitaires vétustes. Mais pour une nuit, nous ferons avec ! Nous sommes les seuls touristes, en plus de quelques travailleurs qui semblent loger là à l’année. Sans être joli, le village est typique, tourné vers la mer, avec un grand ponton permettant d’accueillir des bateaux de pêche. Au soleil couchant, le coin est superbe avec d’immenses plages. Un pêcheur à pied profite de la marée basse pour ramasser ses filets posés à la verticale. Il n’a beau être que 18 heures, les rares restaurants sont en train de fermer, mais l’un accepte de nous servir un excellent « nasi goreng » (riz frit). Et comme ils ne doivent pas voir souvent de touristes occidentaux, ils nous font gentiment goûter d’autres spécialités.
Comme prévu, avec des matelas peu confortables, la nuit n’a pas été très reposante. Etant au bout de la pointe sud-ouest de la partie malaisienne de Bornéo, nous sommes obligés de revenir sur nos pas. Nous atteignons Kuching en 2 heures, et poursuivons jusqu’au parc de Ranchan, 60 km plus au sud. Ce site est réputé pour sa chute d’eau dans laquelle on peut se baigner, et pour ses excellents logements. De ce point de vue-là, c’est vraiment une affaire : pour 100 ringgits (25 €), nous disposons d’une maisonnette avec 2 chambres, un séjour, une cuisine et une salle de bain dans un bel environnement arboré. Seul bémol, le chemin grimpe dur pour s’y rendre car nous logeons presqu’au sommet de la colline. Par contre, la chute d’eau est un peu décevante. Il y a un monde fou car c’est dimanche. Lucie et Jeanne n’osent pas se mettre en maillot car déjà elles se font reluquer par tous les garçons présents, et en plus les filles du coin se baignent en tee-shirt. Sans parler que l’eau est boueuse et ne donne pas très envie de s’y tremper. Nous décidons alors de nous rendre au centre de réhabilitation des orangs-outans de Semenggoh. Comme ils sont nourris à heure fixe, tout le monde vient à la même heure, et comme nous sommes dimanche, l’affluence est à son maximum. Après un rapide comptage, nous sommes environ 300 visiteurs à observer… un seul et unique orang-outan ! Autant dire que nous n’y prenons aucun plaisir. Quelle déception ! Il parait que le matin il y en avait cinq, mais là c’est surtout la foule, plutôt bruyante, que nous ne supportons pas. Une fois rassasié, le grand singe quitte sa plateforme, et nous rebroussons chemin. C’est alors que nous nous rendons compte que 4 autres orangs-outans se promènent tranquillement vers l’entrée du parc. Ils ne sont vraiment pas farouches, et passent juste à 2 mètres de nous. Nous pouvons longuement les observer se déplacer, grimper aux arbres, se balancer d’une branche à une autre. Cette proximité nous fait un peu oublier que nous ne sommes pas tous seuls à profiter du spectacle. Les orangs-outans finissent par disparaitre dans la forêt, et nous, nous partons à la recherche de « maisons longues », ces maisons communautaires qui composent certains villages de la région. Nous avons peu d’information, et tel David Vincent qui, dans la série Les Envahisseurs, est à la recherche d’un raccourci que jamais il ne trouva, nous ne trouvons aucune maison longue… et pourtant nous savons qu’elles sont là. Il y a tellement peu d’indications qu’on finit par se perdre sur les petites routes qui serpentent entre les collines. En traversant le village de Padawan, nous nous demandons s’il est habité par des Jedi (cf. Star Wars). Après de multiples demi-tours, et alors qu’il fait presque nuit, nous retombons enfin sur la route menant au parc de Ranchan. Nous nous arrêtons dans un supermarché (digne de ceux qu’on trouve chez nous) et faisons le plein de victuailles pour le repas du soir : tomates, carottes, concombre, chips, donuts, gâteau à la banane, fruits du dragon. C’est la première que nous ne dinons pas au restaurant, et ce n’est pas désagréable, d’autant plus que nous sommes bien logés. Au moment de nous coucher, nous nous rendons compte que la climatisation d’une des chambres ne marche pas, et que le ventilateur de l’autre tourne à une vitesse folle. Du coup, nous déménageons tous les matelas dans le séjour où il y a heureusement un ventilateur qui fonctionne correctement.
Ce matin, nous ne trainons pas pour retourner à Kuching et rendre la voiture. Nous nous installons ensuite dans l’hôtel où nous avons déjà passé 3 nuits. Le patron est très content de nous voir revenir, et nous en profitons pour lui demander de nous réserver un taxi pour nous emmener à l’aéroport le lendemain. C’est notre dernière journée à Bornéo et nous en profitons pour faire quelques achats tels que du poivre du Sarawak ou des bijoux. C’est vrai que Kuching est vraiment une ville agréable, avec des commerces très typiques : épices, feux d’artifice, pharmacies chinoises, sculptures, etc. Dans les centres commerciaux modernes, où nous trouvons toutes les grandes chaines internationales de vêtements, les prix ne sont pas beaucoup moins élevés que chez nous. Nous empruntons un petit bateau pour traverser le fleuve Sarawak. Il n’y a pas forcément grand-chose à faire de ce côté-là, mais cela permet d’avoir une vue différente sur la ville. L’accès au spectaculaire Parlement est malheureusement interdit. La journée passe tranquillement, et pour le repas du soir nous dinons dans un sympathique petit restaurant du quartier chinois. Et pour digérer, rien ne vaut une petite balade le long du fleuve… Nous espérions pouvoir rejoindre l’hôtel par là, mais nous nous retrouvons bloqués, et pour ne pas avoir à faire un grand détour, nous décidons de passer par-dessus un portail d’un mètre de haut environ. Et là, c’est le drame ! Ou plutôt cela aurait pu être dramatique… Alors qu’elle est assise sur le portail, et prête à sauter de l’autre côté, Jeanne met la main sur des fils électriques qui devaient servir auparavant à l’automatisation du portail. Il n’y a plus de moteur, mais les fils sont toujours branchés au réseau électrique, et surtout ne sont pas protégés. Elle pousse un grand cri et balbutie qu’elle vient de prendre une décharge. Ludo la fait rapidement descendre du portail avant qu’elle n’en tombe. Jeanne est choquée, et nous inquiets… Mais heureusement, petit à petit, elle reprend ses esprits. On demande cependant à Lucie d’essayer de la surveiller durant la nuit, et ne nous prévenir s’il y a un problème. Tout se passera bien…
Aujourd’hui, nous quittons définitivement Bornéo pour Singapour, située à la pointe sud de la péninsule malaise, et à 1h30 d’avion environ de Kuching. Le taxi réservé par le propriétaire de l’hôtel se présente à l’heure convenue. Il s’agit en fait d’un faux taxi, plutôt un ami ou un membre de la famille de l’hôtelier. Le vol, toujours par Air Asia, est annoncé à l’heure. Nous partons pourtant avec 20 minutes… d’avance ! Et nous arrivons logiquement avec 20 minutes d’avance. L’aéroport est très moderne, mais nous ne nous y attardons pas. Nous rejoignons le centre-ville en métro. Il ne fait pas beau du tout : grosse pluie orageuse. Singapour est à la fois une ville, une île et un état indépendant. Très urbanisée, mais aussi très verte grâce à de nombreux parcs, ce qui donne à Singapour le surnom de « ville jardin ». La population est composée de 75% de chinois, 15% de malais et 8% d’indiens. Sur le plan économique, on peut considérer que c’est une réussite. C’est aussi un état très sûr, avec une police omniprésente (surtout en civil) et des lois très strictes sur le comportement social. Cela en fait une ville très propre, on se croirait presque en Suisse J. Nous trouvons rapidement notre hôtel, réservé sur internet avant notre départ. Il est extrêmement bien situé, sur Boat Quay le long de la Singapore River. La vue est assez exceptionnelle depuis la terrasse de la cuisine commune : la rivière Singapore juste en dessous, le Central Business District avec ses immenses buildings juste à côté, le complexe hôtelier hyper moderne Marina Bay Sands composé de 3 tours coiffées d’une coque de bateau, et en fait tout le centre-ville de Singapour. La vue n’existe d’ailleurs que depuis la terrasse car la quasi-totalité des chambres sont sans fenêtre. Elles sont toutes identiques, très petites, avec des sanitaires communs, mais tout ça est parfaitement propre et plutôt « design ». Ce n’est d’ailleurs pas donné par rapport aux tarifs pratiqués en Malaisie : environ 60 euros la chambre double, avec petit-déjeuner, mais c’est très correct pour Singapour où le niveau de vie est proche du nôtre, et surtout la situation est idéale. Le fait que les chambres n’aient pas de fenêtre ne nous gêne pas beaucoup car nous n’avons pas l’intention d’y passer beaucoup de temps en dehors d’y dormir. Et d’ailleurs que faire quand il pleut comme aujourd’hui ? Les magasins bien sûr ! La ville est réputée pour ses centres commerciaux ultra-modernes dont la plupart sont situés sur Orchard Road. La pluie s’étant un peu calmée, nous nous y rendons finalement à pied en traversant l’un des parcs de la ville, Fort Canning Park, à la végétation luxuriante. Orchard Road est un boulevard de plus de 2 kilomètres de long, entièrement bordé de galeries marchandes. Toutes les grandes marques sont là, y compris les plus luxueuses. Il y a de quoi y passer des heures. Les tarifs sont relativement intéressants par rapport à la France, du moins pour les vêtements. Difficile de résister… Par contre, la téléphonie est à peine moins chère que chez nous. Pour les appareils photos, ça semble intéressant, mais nous sommes déjà équipés. Durant les jours suivants, nous poursuivons la visite de la ville. La ville est plutôt agréable, avec beaucoup de verdure, y compris au pied des buildings. Les architectes s’en donnent à cœur joie, et l’hôtel Marina Bay Sands, tout à fait spectaculaire, est devenu un peu l’image de la ville. La dernière création hors du commun est celle de Gardens by the Bay, un parc de 100 hectares absolument magnifique avec des serres très modernes, et parsemé de « supertrees », des faux arbres métalliques culminant à 50 mètres de haut, reliés entre eux par une passerelle et couverts d’orchidées qui courent le long de la structure. Mais de beaux bâtiments anciens, de style colonial, ont été préservés et nous font faire un saut de plus de cent ans dans le passé. Le soir, nous aimons terminer la journée à Lau Pa Sat, un vieux marché anglais tout en fer forgé, transféré à Singapour il y a 120 ans, et transformé désormais en ce qu’on appelle ici un « Hawker Center ». Il s’agit d’un ensemble de petits stands de restauration, proposant de la nourriture, essentiellement asiatique mais de toute origine : chinoise, indienne, malaise, thaïlandaise, etc. L’intérêt principal est que les tables sont communes, et que chacun peut aller commander ce qu’il veut où il veut, avant de se retrouver ensemble pour manger. Nous tentons différentes expériences culinaires, la spécialité locale étant tout de même les « satays », des brochettes de viande absolument exquises. Il faut bien avouer que parfois, on ne sait pas trop ce qu’on déguste. Bien que la grande majorité des habitants soit chinoise, il existe tout de même un quartier chinois. Disons qu’il est plus typique que d’autres quartiers… On y retrouve des marchés aux produits parfois indéfinissables, des temples aux couleurs chatoyantes ou de vieux messieurs jouant aux dames. Sans parler des nombreuses contrefaçons… Parmi les autres visites incontournables de la ville, que nous n’avons donc pas contournées : le jardin botanique, et le zoo fait de telle manière que les animaux ne donnent pas l’impression d’être enfermés (pas de cage). Au final, Singapour a vraiment été une belle découverte !
C’est le jour du départ pour la France, mais il nous faut auparavant regagner Kuala Lumpur puisque c’est de là que nous repartons, et non de Singapour. La capitale de la Malaisie ne se trouve qu’à 350 kilomètres au nord de Singapour. Plusieurs possibilités s’offraient à nous : l’avion, forcément plus rapide mais aussi plus cher, le train, assez lent mais nous ne sommes pas pressés puisque notre avion pour Paris ne décolle qu’en toute fin de journée, et enfin le car, plus rapide que le train. C’est cette dernière solution que nous avons choisie, avec des conditions de confort maximales puisque le car, à 2 niveaux, ne comporte que 18 places. Les sièges sont (presque) dignes d’une 1ère classe en avion puisqu’ils s’allongent quasiment à horizontal. Hôtesse, boissons, repas, écrans individuels, tout comme en avion ! Il faut compter 4h30, y compris le passage de la frontière, pour rallier Kuala Lumpur par l’autoroute. Le paysage est très monotone, exclusivement composé de plantations de palmiers à huile. On en profite pour se reposer et dormir un peu… Nous arrivons dans la capitale malaise en début d’après-midi. Pas grand-chose à faire, à part trainer un peu dans les centres commerciaux, d’autant plus qu’il se met à pleuvoir fortement. L’un d’entre eux accueille un parc d’attraction intérieur… Pour le dîner, nous retournons sur Jalan Alor, la rue bordée de nombreux restaurants où nous avions mangé lors de notre séjour ici quelques semaines plus tôt, et nous retrouvons le stand de brochettes que nous avions adorées. C’est toujours aussi bon, mais il y a moins d’ambiance car même s’il ne pleut plus, le temps reste menaçant et du coup il y a moins de monde. Nous regagnions ensuite l’aéroport et embarquons pour Paris peu avant minuit : une douzaine d’heures de vol sont prévues…
le car, à 2 niveaux, ne comporte que 18 places. Les sièges sont (presque) dignes d’une 1ère classe en avion puisqu’ils s’allongent quasiment à horizontal. Hôtesse, boissons, repas, écrans individuels, tout comme en avion ! Il faut compter 4h30, y compris le passage de la frontière, pour rallier Kuala Lumpur par l’autoroute.
salut ludo
interessant, le nom de la compagnie est transtar? solitaire?
tu te souviens du prix?
Où est le lieu de départ a KL? d arrivée a SG?
Merci d avance
Renaud
Salut.
C'était en effet Transtar (modèle du car : Solitaire).
A Singapour, ça part de Golden Mile Complex.
A KL, on arrive sur Jalan Imbi.
Je ne me souviens pas bien du prix, mais tu peux trouver ça sur leur site internet.
A+
Ludo
Bonjour,
J'ai lu avec attention votre itinéraire qui a été une source d'inspiration pour le miens !
Auriez-vous les coordonnées de votre guide dans le fleuve Kinabatang ?
Merci d'avance !
Bonjour et merci encore pour le contact !
M. Aji vient de m'informer que le coût était de 350 RM par personne pour 2 jours / 1 nuit.
Que pensez-vous du prix ? Je n'ai pas le moindre prix de référence !
Merci d'avance :)
C'est en effet le prix qui est affiché sur son site pour 2 personnes. Nous on était resté 3 Jours/2 Nuits et c'était forcément plus cher. J'avais comparé avec d'autres opérateurs comme Uncle Tan, et je me rappelle que ceux-ci étaient plus chers.
Sinon, si tu as ton propore véhicule, tu peux te rendre directement à Sukau, le village au bord de la rivière Kinabatangan. Tu trouveras sans problème un hébergement et un guide. L'avantage de Mr Aji, c'est qu'il est vraiment bien et passionné de photos.
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"So, my little wanderers, back at the decks? What’s this mystery destination you’ve got in store for us at the start of the year?"
Yes, the schoolyard bell’s ringing again! We’re hitting the road... or rather, the skies! At first glance, our destination might surprise more than a few. First off, simply because I was here exactly twenty years ago, and I don’t usually like retracing my own footsteps. Secondly, because the name of this place screams mass tourism—basically the opposite of what Flo and I look for.
Despite that, in this land of backsheesh, I’d promised myself I’d come back one day to experience it my way. And since Flo told me, during our wanderer chats, that this destination straddling Africa and the Middle East was in her top 2 travel dreams, the stars aligned for this roots-style trip to quickly make it onto our pharaonic festivities program! Unless you’re totally clueless in general knowledge, you’ve probably guessed by now—we’re off to Egypt! Of course, a few classics will be on our itinerary, but above all, we want to soak up a culture that can’t be appreciated in four-star resorts or on a Nile cruise boat. And let’s be clear, these next two weeks won’t be a walk in the park—neither for our two daughters who are joining us, nor for our bodies!
And that’s clear from the get-go: after our first flight, eight hours of trying (and failing) to sleep on Milan airport’s metal seats, our second flight, landing, passport stamps, our Uber ride, and our first Cairo kilometers, we finally drop our exhaustion at the little guesthouse we booked in Giza. Doesn’t all that energy deserve a little reward?
Oh, absolutely! And here it is: a full-on slap in the face for everyone! But just look at this view from our hotel terrace? For 20 € a night for four, even with this incredible view, I figured the room must be pretty shabby, right? Nope... Is the staff rude, then? Nope... Okay, so what’s the catch? You’re gonna tell me breakfast is included too? Well, yes! Honestly, this Egypt trip is off to a great start.
And the rest of the afternoon, spent rubbing shoulders with locals, only confirmed this vibe. After digesting our pyramid view, we dove into the hustle and bustle of our neighborhood with the goal of exchanging money, eating at street stalls, and testing the hospitality of the locals. Ten out of ten!
Eight little sun breads with baba ganoush and falafel? 80 pounds, or 1.5 €. A dozen Middle Eastern pastries? Same! 80 pounds! Two hawawshis, those little pita breads stuffed with meat and spices? 10 pounds each, or about twenty cents! Not to mention all those smiles and free "welcomes" left and right!!!
What a welcome! We end this first day with a sunset over the three sisters of Giza—where we’ll obviously be gawking tomorrow...
Hi everyone, I’m Patrick, 67 years old, a seasoned traveler (already 22 trips outside Europe).
In autumn 2025, I took my first 3-week trip to Japan, with stops in Tokyo, Kamakura, Matsumoto, Kamikochi, Takayama, Kanazawa, Kyoto, Nara, Osaka, Koyasan, Tokyo again, and Nikko.
I wanted to go back in May 2026 and explore some lesser-known places to complement my first trip.
Last year, there were four of us traveling together to discover Japan (a fairly classic itinerary). This time, I’ll be traveling solo for part of the trip and with a couple of French friends for the rest.
The weather was gorgeous in May, averaging around 25°C, with two very hot days in Kyoto and only two rainy days.
As usual, I organized everything myself, gathering plenty of information from various sites, including this one.
Transportation:
An ICOCA card is essential.
I got a 5-day Kansai-Hiroshima pass because I took the shinkansen between Hiroshima and Osaka three times, and it paid for itself quickly.
Accommodations:
Mostly through Booking. No issues at all. Average cost was 46 € per night.
Meals:
For breakfast, I alternated between buying food at a konbini to eat in my room or on the train and grabbing something at local cafés.
For lunch and dinner, I tried to vary my meals as much as possible—lots of sashimi, sushi, and ramen.
Okonomiyaki in Osaka and Hiroshima.
Oysters in every form (raw, grilled, fried) in Onomichi and Hiroshima.
A variety of seafood (shrimp, shellfish) in Hiroshima and Matsumoto.
Fish whose names often escaped me, but notably mackerel and eel (unagi).
Tempura and gyoza.
Chicken skewers (yakitori) and one teppanyaki meal.
One omakase meal (9 different dishes).
In the end, not much meat aside from a few yakitori skewers. No splurges on super expensive wagyu or Kobe beef.
Average dinner cost: 4,800 yen, drinks included.
The Itinerary:
Day 1: Departure from Brussels
Day 2: Arrival in Osaka
Day 3: To Himeji, then Kurashiki
Day 4: To Fukuyama, then Tomo no Ura, then Onomichi
Day 5: Cycling the Shimanami Kaido
Day 6: To Takahara, then Hiroshima
Day 7: To Kyoto to attend the Aoi Matsuri parade
Day 8: To Miyajima
Day 9: Hiroshima, then Kyoto
Day 10: Southern Kyoto
Day 11: Northern Kyoto
Day 12: Final day in Kyoto, then to Nagatsugawa
Day 13: Start of the Nakasendo Trail (Magome to Tsumago)
Day 14: Second day of the trail (Kiso Fukushima)
Day 15: Third day of the trail (Narai), then Matsumoto
Day 16: To Mt. Fuji (Kawaguchiko)
Day 17: To Tokyo
Day 18: Excursion to Enoshima and Kamakura
Day 19: Flight home, with a 10-hour layover in Hong Kong
Day 20: Arrival in Brussels
My buddy Christian and I (Patrick) are off for 28 days in Argentina in March.
We’ve already shared several trips as a duo (Bolivia Peru, Namibia, Laos, Costa Rica).
Since we’re starting from the idea that at our age (65) we won’t be coming back here—there are just too many other corners of the world to discover—we did the "grand tour" of Argentina, with 6 domestic flights to make the most of our 28 days.
Here are our stops:
1) Departure from Brussels to Buenos Aires via Madrid
2) Arrival and first contact with Buenos Aires
3) Early morning flight to Ushuaia. Boat trip on the Beagle Channel
4) Ushuaia: hikes in Tierra del Fuego National Park
5) Ushuaia: last hike and flight to El Calafate
6) El Calafate to El Chaltén by bus. First hike
7) El Chaltén: hike
8) El Chaltén: hike
9) El Chaltén: hike and bus back to El Calafate
10) El Calafate: Perito Moreno Glacier
11) Flight to Bariloche. Car rental and surrounding areas
12) Seven Lakes Region
13) Nahuel Huapi National Park region
14) Flight to Salta. Car rental
15) To Tilcara
16) To Humahuaca
17) To Purmamarca
18) To Jujuy via the salt flats
19) To Cafayate
20) Around Cafayate
21) To Cachi
22) Back to Salta
23) Flight to Iguazu
24) Waterfalls on the Argentine side
25) Waterfalls on the Brazilian side and flight to Buenos Aires
26) Buenos Aires
27) Return flight
28) Morning arrival
Happy reading!..
Hi everyone, we're back from a DIY USA road trip we organized from July 31, 2026, to August 26, 2026.
The destination: The Southwest USA, including Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico. Roughly 7,000 kilometers covered.
The car: A Chevrolet Equinox for two, rented through BSP Auto and Avis. Inside, we had 2 suitcases, a travel bag, two carry-on bags, a Walmart cooler, photo gear, and water bottles (a 40-pack).
The route: Dallas DFW, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Alpine, El Paso, Tucson, Sedona, Albuquerque, Amarillo, and back to Dallas to finish with a departure from DFW.
The travelers: Two seniors well advanced in years (73 and 75) but still active (nothing too physically demanding—to stay alive and fund our trips), fully independent physically, though a bit less so mentally. Big USA fans, a country where anything is possible. More walkers than hikers, preferring 3-star hotels over roadside motels, Italian restaurants over US food, frequent stops for photos, museums over nothing, naps over forced marches. Not too whiny, just enough to stay French in the land of the "great Satan," as they say.
Not great with languages—street English (but handy), and my Spanish is non-existent except for: "Hola! Una cerveza por favor!" That’s about it. My wife understands everything but refuses to speak.
The cost of the road trip: Around 12,000 €, including AF flights, the car, gas, gifts, visits, and everything else. Well managed, since we’d budgeted 13,500 € initially.
The positive side: A delight, with those endless open roads. Museums to discover. The realization of the Hispanic presence and its important history in this part of America. Lovely locals. Tourists who were more or less friendly. A terrible Texan accent that was hard to understand. Gas stations that were like real stores, with prepared food, alcohol sold in Arizona and New Mexico, and employees who were always up for a laugh!
The negative side: The heat throughout the trip... 43°C in Dallas at the end. Impossible to walk the streets. Lots of homeless people in downtown Dallas. Hotel breakfasts that were always the same. You get used to it.
So, it was positive overall, but the concept is starting to wear us out. We might rethink the DIY road trip model for next time. If the man upstairs grants us more time.
Next up, we’ll wait for the first batch of sorted photos to go through the wringer.
If I close my eyes and think of the Sultanate of Oman, I first smell a light scent of incense, feel the warmth of a sunbeam on my skin, before sand slips through my fingers. I taste the sweetness of a date, a real candy, then the flavor of coffee with a hint of cardamom and rosewater... I hear the desert wind whistling in my ears, the distant call of a muezzin, then the murmur of water. I open my eyes to see smiles, welcoming gestures, a turquoise sea, rocks ranging from ochre to purple, deep wadis where torrents burst forth, orange dunes, white sandy beaches where tiny crabs scurry at full speed. I see incredible oases emerging between arid mountains. I see abandoned villages that I’d dream were full of life, imposing fortresses overlooking valleys, and lively souks where offers are delicate and negotiation is a mutual courtesy.
All that, and so much more.
This is what I tried to capture in my illustrated travel journal, which I’ll fill in here and there with photos.
I drew this journal “cold,” after my return (actually, I made it this summer, while our trip was last winter). It’s a pretty special format—I bought it in Japan without really knowing what I’d do with it. Well, it found its purpose! Below is a photo of this accordion-style journal: here, it’s only partially open, because when fully unfolded, it’s 5 meters long!
For drawing enthusiasts: The accordion format is both a constraint (each sheet is 9 cm x 27 cm) and a freedom (you can create a fresco). The paper is also a bit special: it doesn’t allow for fine lines, but it takes ink well (liner pen). However, everything has to be done almost in one go (with a very light pencil sketch) because it erases poorly. It absorbs too much water for coloring with markers or watercolors (unless you avoid soaking it), but it works well with oil pastels and their use with a brush and solvent. Since it’s yellowish, it allowed me to create contrasts even with white pastel.
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those stunning doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Oman is one of the world’s largest producers of frankincense resin. Incense burners are everywhere, from the simplest clay ones to the most precious handcrafted silver ones...
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a touch of saffron, and occasionally rosewater.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (during the week and daytime; colors are more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you’ll see some men dressed in Western clothes, they’re very few. The white dishdasha is truly the shared attire of all men. The dishdasha, which has no hood, is distinguished by a small pom-pom attached to the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go overboard with it! "It smells like the pom-pom" is an expression that’s now part of our shared language, my husband and I.
Another must of men’s attire is the kuma, a small round head covering, usually white with brightly colored patterns. The keffiyeh is also worn (but without the cord called an agal in Arab countries), and it’s mostly worn by those with roots in the desert, from what I understood.
And what about the women, you might ask? Some are veiled, some in full black (but not a burka—more like a chador + abaya), due to the influence of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, whereas the traditional outfit used to be a layering of very colorful dresses. Most of the women we saw wore neutral clothing, a plain veil over their hair, but with their faces uncovered. We also saw many saris and colorful veils—don’t forget that 40% of the population consists of Indian, Nepalese, and Bangladeshi immigrants, who work a lot in tourism, hospitality, restaurants, services, and construction.
Just to clarify, as a tourist, there’s no pressure to wear a veil, and never any disapproving looks. Of course, you’ll save the mini shorts, plunging necklines, bare shoulders, and midriffs for the hotel terrace—but I’d say that’s the same for men and women, and with the sun being strong, it’s better for your skin too.
Here’s the introduction! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
The latest travel journal about Turkmenistan dates back to 2019. Here’s a quick update on this vast desert country, which is now a bit easier to visit than before.
This is my first travel journal. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. The country is slowly opening up, but it’s still possible to visit sites where you’ll be completely alone. In five days, I saw two Hongkongers, a few Germans, and a Chilean at the crater, ten Chinese people in a capital bazaar, and that’s it!
It’s possible to visit Turkmenistan from Uzbekistan. The easiest and most economical way is to take a taxi to the border from Bukhara. The trip takes a little over an hour.
Crossing the border takes quite a while because many Turkmen bring back items bought in Uzbekistan to resell in Turkmenistan. For example, diapers, baby products, or beauty products.
It took me over 2.5 hours to cross the border. To visit Turkmenistan, it’s mandatory to have a guide and go through a travel agency. British agencies often offer three-, five-, or seven-day trips for over 1,500 or 2,000 €.
But if your budget is more limited, you can contact a few Turkmen agencies directly by email, and they’ll make you an offer between 700 and 1,300 € for three to seven days. I took a five-day trip from Turkmenabat in the northeast of the country to Dashoguz in the north. The goal was to visit the main UNESCO-listed sites, including Merv, and archaeological sites like Nisa or Gonur Tepe.
Your guide will also be your driver. They’ll pick you up at the border. The formalities are very long because customs officers have to stamp multiple documents, and obtaining the visa you previously requested from your travel agency requires several checks. But the process goes relatively smoothly, even if each step takes a while.
Once on the other side, the first surprise is the brand-new highway all the way to Turkmenabat. A very long line of trucks stretches for several kilometers on the Turkmen side to cross the border into Uzbekistan. According to my guide, Turkmen trucks transport gas and cotton (though not this season, since the harvest is in September), but they mainly fill up their tanks because fuel is much cheaper in Turkmenistan. A full tank for a car costs about 3 €, which is unbeatable.
From the Farap border post, the goal is to reach the city of Mary, which is home to the UNESCO-listed site of Merv in its suburbs, about thirty kilometers away. This city is known as a foundation by Alexander the Great in the 4th century BC under the name Alexandria of Margiana. Several fortresses are visible.
After more than three hours on the road, we have lunch at a Turkish restaurant called Aladdin. Several quotes from the president are visible along the highway, but the road is in good condition, and we move along easily. This will be by far the best road in the country—things will get much worse later.
Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.
I’m sharing a little recap of this new 4-week trip to China—nothing fancy, just my experience.
We’re taking advantage of the extended visa exemption to return to China for the 4th time. I loved last summer’s trip so much that I’m a bit worried about being disappointed this year. Plus, I’ve had a few hiccups before this departure: my WeChat account got blocked, and I couldn’t recover it (luckily, Alipay still works fine); I couldn’t verify my 12306 account for weeks; Trip.com failed to book our second train; and I’ve got an injury that’ll slow me down during the trip... Ugh, I hate starting a trip with these kinds of issues. Then, oh surprise! Just before leaving, my 12306 account got verified! Super easy to use from that point on—I could book a few train tickets without fees.
We’re sticking with Free’s e-SIMs, which work great in China.
August 2–3
Anyway, on the morning of August 2nd, we took the RER to CDG. As usual, we couldn’t check in online. It’s always a bit frustrating, especially since we didn’t have any checked luggage. We flew with Air China. We arrived at the check-in counter at 9:50 AM, 2 hours and 40 minutes before the flight. The line for our check-in stretched 300 meters across the airport in both directions. What a joke!! We spent 1 hour and 45 minutes in that line just to reach the counter and get our boarding passes. By then, it was 11:35 AM, and boarding had already started at 11:20 AM. The screens showed a 25-minute walk to our gate—on the other side of the airport, of course—plus we had to go through passport control and security... Long story short, the plane didn’t leave without us 🙂 We boarded among the last passengers, and we took off at 12:30 PM. We’d flown Air China four times before, but this time, it felt *really* low-cost. The check-in chaos, the cramped seats (12 seats per row), no music by artists known outside China, mediocre food, and a boarding area at Beijing Airport with only 10 seats—worthy of Ryanair or EasyJet. And yet, the price was sky-high. Again, D.’s vacation requests were denied outside of July and August, so we’re traveling from August 2nd to 30th. We couldn’t have picked a worse time for inflated prices, and with the situation in Iran, we got hit with a 390 € fuel surcharge. I’ve never paid so much for flights—I felt like I’d bought business class, but nope, far from it!!
We landed in Beijing around 4:15 AM. It was 28°C with thick fog. We drove and drove and drove for 20 minutes, as usual in Beijing. Then we went through a first check, a second check, a third check, and waited for our connecting flight at 6:40 AM. A small Airbus A320, but way more space than in the Boeing 777 from the first flight. We landed in Kunming, Yunnan, around 10:15 AM in the rain.
We headed to the subway. You can’t pay at the machines with Alipay here either, so we set up the transport QR code directly in Alipay to scan at the subway gates. The process is a bit long the first time if you haven’t entered your info before, but once it’s done, it’s *so* much easier! We took Line 6 to the terminus for 6 yuan each.
We’d booked a hotel nearby, on the 16th floor. It’s actually studios on different floors of a huge residential building. The view’s pretty nice from here. We settled in quickly—back to those wooden beds, or rather, mattresses as hard as wood, which we *hadn’t* missed...
Then we went out for our first bowl of noodles of the trip and wandered through the shopping streets of the old town.
It was crowded, and the weather was cool—around 19–20°C. We tried a local specialty: milk skin, thick, dried, then grilled with rose jam. Yeah... we won’t be having that again. The taste and texture of the milk skin... no thanks.
We saw a lot of wild mushroom hotpot too. It’s on our list for later. We also passed through the Jinma and Biji gates, where I played with reflections in puddles. I *love* doing that 🙂
At the end of the day, we headed to a temple advertised as open 24/7 on Amap. Of course, when we got there, it was closed. We’ll go back tomorrow. That was the first of many disappointments with Amap this trip—I hadn’t had that issue on previous visits.
We were exhausted after that sleepless flight. Night was falling, and we decided to grab a quick bite without much appetite. We shared a delicious vegetable fried rice for 12 yuan—we even left half of it. The portions are *huge*.
After a couple of small purchases, we headed back at 9 PM, wiped out, after walking 17 km between the airports and these first steps in Kunming. I expected to see quite a few Western travelers here, but we didn’t spot a single one. Instead, we met lots of curious Chinese people, many of them super friendly and helpful—almost *too* eager, like when they’d run to serve us as fast as possible. It’s a bit much, but it’s great to be back!
After as many weeks as I have fingers on my right hand, we're hitting the road again, fully recovered from our pharaonic adventure. Back in France to drop off our daughters (sorry, girls!), this time it's just the two of us, ready to be welcomed by a new destination. They say it offers one of the richest cultural heritages in the world for those willing to put in the effort. It's the land of the ancient Silk Road, where we'll follow a journey steeped in history and discoveries straight out of *One Thousand and One Nights*. A former Soviet bloc region independent only since 1991, we'll be walking in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Alexander the Great, Marco Polo...
Another fun fact about this country: it's strictly forbidden to import porn on your phone. True story. The same goes for painkillers! Unless it's about sodomy—though the two don’t seem connected, that’s just how it is. Don’t ask me why! Anyway, I’m getting off track. Here’s the big question: Where do you think we’ve just landed?... To give you a hint, the locals are known for being incredibly welcoming. No sooner said than done—our first taxi driver, proud to transport French travelers, refused to let us pay for the ride. Great vibes for these two weeks ahead. So, any guesses?
Uzbekistan!!!
"How about a Christmas market this year, huh? A little romantic weekend getaway...
- Yes! That’d be cool! Strasbourg? Colmar?
- Feels a bit déjà vu, doesn’t it? Plus, slim chance of snow there... And I’d love something a bit more exotic with a touch of originality..."
"Okay, Google, give me the list of the five most beautiful Christmas markets in Europe.
- In fifth place, the Christmas market in Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania.
- Save your breath! Lithuania, here we come!"
We wanted cold, and cold is exactly what we got the moment we set foot in this new, unknown land. As for landscapes, forests and lakes stretch as far as the eye can see across this vast plain, its vegetation scorched by the frost of a winter that’s clearly already well underway here.
Lakes, in fact, set the scene for our first visit to Trakai Castle, whose brick-red towers and walls rise proudly against the azure sky of our first day. Lakes, because this castle was built on an island and is only accessible on foot via a series of walkways spanning half-frozen lake offshoots. I couldn’t have picked a better spot to build my castle! Translation: We’re totally sold! Proof is we spend two hours hiking around the area, alternating between forests, reeds, and cozy houses tastefully decorated for Christmas.
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while.
When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing.
The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo.
But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip.
And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.
So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays:
- 3 nights in St Lucia
- 1 night in Hluhluwe
- 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini)
- 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini)
- 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti)
- 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve
- 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie
All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.
I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).
To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.
Here we go!!!
I left home at 4 AM on October 31st and headed to Barcelona. Driving through Barcelona on the ring road stresses me out a bit, but at 6 AM the traffic is smooth, and I arrive at the airport without any issues. I call the valet, who quickly comes to pick up my car. He takes photos of it from all angles before letting me go.
Baggage check-in hasn’t started yet, and there are already several of us waiting.
Once free, everything happens very quickly. The flight to Abu Dhabi is on time and goes smoothly. I’ve never had any problems with this airline, which I’ve been using for several years.
The flight to Bangkok arrives at 7 AM as scheduled. This is my first time in Thailand and Bangkok. I’m used to traveling in India, and I notice that everything here is well organized—the customs process is quick, and the luggage is already on the carousel.
I booked a taxi on Booking. All I have to do is find the right exit and door based on the agency’s instructions. A large sign with the names of people who booked is posted on a wall. A hostess greets me and calls the taxi, which arrives 5 minutes later. I booked one night at the Lost Inn BKK hotel in the Phra Nakhon district, and we arrive at 9 AM. The welcome isn’t warm, and I have to wait until noon, sitting on a chair, before I can check into my room. I’m exhausted, and sleeping sitting up isn’t ideal. Noon finally arrives—the room is small but clean, which is fine for one night. I quickly take a shower to wake up because I plan to spend the afternoon visiting the Grand Palace. First, I need to exchange some money, and the banks are all close together on the same street, which is very convenient. When I enter one, a hostess gives me a ticket and invites me to sit down. There are about twenty counters, and I wait quietly until my number is called. The exchange is quick, so I can head out to find the Royal Palace. It’s actually very easy, and the walk is pleasant.
Entry to the Royal Palace (500 baht).
It’s magnificent and grand, and there are quite a few of us visiting. The sky is gray, it’s very humid, and a shower interrupts the visit. It’s a vast complex of temples and palaces. The buildings are colorful and sparkling, with a great sense of serenity (without the tourists, of course). I quietly enjoy the place and try to take photos without tourists, which isn’t easy.
Very close to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, one of the oldest Buddhist temples in the capital.
It’s very famous for its 46-meter-long reclining Buddha statue.
Walking around the temple, you can see different representations of Buddha, all covered in gold leaf.
Inside the temple, on one side, monks recite their prayers, while the other side is reserved for tourists who come to meditate in silence.
Before returning to the hotel, I have dinner at an Indian restaurant. I go to bed early because tomorrow’s wake-up call will be very early again.
Saturday, November 2nd
Wake-up at 4 AM, departure from the hotel at 4:30 AM. The taxi I booked via Booking is waiting for me and takes me to the airport. The trip is fairly quick—he takes small roads, and at this hour, there’s no traffic.
The flight to Phnom Penh is on time. Before boarding, I realize I left my fleece jacket on the carousel, but it’s too late to go back for it.
The flight goes well, and customs is quick.
At the exit, I take a tuk-tuk to Julieka’s GH near the museum. The welcome is friendly. I won’t be able to check into my room until noon, so I take the opportunity to exchange some euros on the market street. The street is lined with restaurants, and I’ll have my first meal there.
The museum is right across the street, so I don’t waste any time visiting it.
The representations of Hindu deities are very different from those in India, and I don’t recognize them. Many beautiful Buddhas are on display.
The museum is very pleasant, and there aren’t too many people, which is a plus.
At the exit, I return to the GH, settle into my room—which is decent and clean.
The Royal Palace is 1 km away. I walk along a garden, and at the end of the street is the Tonlé Sap, but I turn right. I arrive at a large esplanade and see the buildings with tiered roofs and glazed tiles. The entrance to the palace is a little further away.
At the entrance, I notice there isn’t the same crowd as at the one in BKK.
Khmer architecture is magnificent. The complex consists of gardens, palaces, pagodas with golden roofs, and slender spires.
The Silver Pagoda houses the small Emerald Buddha, which is actually made of jade. The silver flooring is covered with carpets. Photos are not allowed.
The walls surrounding the pagoda are covered with frescoes depicting scenes from the Ramayana.
My partner and I traveled from Sunday, July 5, 2026, to Wednesday, July 22, 2026.
We spent a long time debating whether to rent a car or use public transportation. In the end, after reading so many posts about travelers getting scammed by police or rental companies—even those recommended by blogs and reviews—we decided to stick with public transport. It worked out really well. Sure, we had a little less freedom to go where we wanted, but it was way less stressful for us.
Sunday, July 5:
Arrived at Cancun Airport. Withdrew cash from the ATM in the terminal just before exiting. The ADO bus counter (they pronounce it "A-Jee-O") is right behind you when you're facing the ATM. Bus to downtown Cancun cost 145 pesos per person.
Stayed at "Rose 5," booked on Booking. The studio was super clean and perfect for one night. The owner’s instructions for accessing the place were very precise, with photos included. Check-in was self-service with a code. The ADO bus terminal isn’t far, and there are shops and restaurants nearby. We really appreciated that the AC was already on when we arrived. By the way, I’d recommend always booking places with AC—it’s *really* hot in Mexico.
Monday, July 6:
Bought a SIM card with data from a TELCEL store. My partner, who’s on Free Mobile, was able to use her regular plan. Just so you know, I found the network pretty unstable. As soon as we left the cities, neither of us—me with TELCEL or her with Free—had any signal.
Another thing to watch out for: roaming charges. I had to turn my SIM back on for less than 30 seconds to get a bank SMS code, and my phone apparently connected to the internet—resulting in an 8-euro roaming fee.
Left on an ADO bus to Chiquila for 278 pesos per person. During our trip, ADO buses were always on time, comfortable, and clean. The AC is *cranked* though, so bring something to cover up with—it gets cold. Some routes were fully booked even in the low season, so try to reserve 1 or 2 days in advance either via the app (when it works) or at the counter.
When we arrived at the ADO terminal in Chiquila, the ferry company counters were right next to it. Ferries leave every 30 minutes, alternating between companies, so no need to book ahead. Just take whichever one is leaving next (330 pesos per person).
When we got to Holbox (pronounced "Hol-bosh"), we’d booked a place via Booking called "Casa de Nana." It was a huge studio with a fridge, cooking plate, and utensils. The best part? The *location*. It was 100 meters from the beach and 200 meters from a Chedraui supermarket. They provided bath towels and beach towels, and the AC worked perfectly. There’s a key box so you can leave your keys inside when you go out. The only downside was that no one was there to let us in when we arrived, so we had to wait a while. The Wi-Fi was good, which was lucky because during our 4-day stay in Holbox, the phone network *never* worked. According to locals, that’s pretty common in Holbox, along with water outages.
Luckily, I’d had the good idea to download an offline map, which helped us find our way back to the place more easily. You can walk there from the dock.
The restaurant next to our place (La Barracuda) was great if you like seafood—I’d recommend their octopus dishes.
Tuesday, July 7:
We did a kayak tour in Holbox’s mangroves at 6 AM. We were looking for a sunrise kayak tour with a French-speaking guide. That’s exactly what we got with "Kayaking Holbox," where Diego, the owner, speaks English and French. He was joined by Gustavo, another guide.
We’d booked for a group tour, but we were the only ones. Diego still went ahead with it instead of canceling due to lack of participants, so we got a private tour at the group rate—really professional of him. They showed us this amazing ecosystem for over 3 hours. We saw all kinds of birds: pink flamingos, pelicans, egrets, frigatebirds... rays, a horseshoe crab, and a little crocodile that was *so* well hidden. Diego and Gustavo have a real eye for spotting animals—I could’ve passed by the crocodile 100 times and never seen it, it blended in so well. Their explanations about the flora and fauna were super interesting. We also got a little break where we tasted mangoes and bananas that taste *nothing* like the ones in France. A real treat—those little Mexican yellow mangoes! I’d definitely recommend Diego and his agency for a French-language kayak tour (1000 pesos per person).
In the evening, we walked to Punta Coco to see the bioluminescence. No need for a guided tour—if you really don’t want to walk, you can take a taxi. At Punta Coco, you have to pass the beach bar/restaurant and then go left into a kind of inlet that forms a lagoon. You have to wiggle your feet or move your hands in the water to create movement, which makes the light appear. Just don’t expect the kind of photos you’ve seen online—they’re all edited! It’s fun to see, but you won’t be dazzled by the light...
Wednesday, July 8:
Whale shark tour with "My Holbox Tours." Why recommend this agency over others for swimming with whale sharks? Simply because Valérie surrounds herself with top professionals to make your experience unforgettable. We were with Captain Fernando, who does everything to position the boat perfectly and make your swim easier. In the water, we were with Humberto, who also goes above and beyond to make sure you have an incredible time. He doesn’t just "supervise" like some guides from other companies who leave you on your own. No, Humberto reads the whale shark’s trajectory and guides you—all you have to do is follow him. He really puts in the effort, even holding your hand to guide you through this quick but intense encounter. Humberto also films the moment and will offer to show you the videos and sell them to you. His footage is really high quality.
Fernando and Humberto also prepared food for us. Special mention for their guacamole! Valérie is there to make sure everything goes smoothly on the boat and to answer your questions in French, English, or Spanish about these animals. If you choose My Holbox Tours, you can be sure you’ll get a top-notch experience.
About the tour itself: before you go, you should know that the sharks can be *really* far away. The day we went, it took 3.5 hours by boat to reach them. The boats are small, and let me tell you—on the way there, when we weren’t going with the waves, it was *rough*. Out of 9 passengers, 4 got seasick. But once you’re face-to-face with the shark, you forget all about that. Even if swimming with a whale shark isn’t exactly a walk in the park—they swim pretty fast, so you need some endurance to keep up. You’ll usually get 2 turns. Our first swim lasted a little over 4 minutes, and the second about 2 minutes because the shark was moving fast and we were still tired from the first swim. It might seem short, but when you’re swimming, it feels *long*. Either way, it’s an experience you *have* to do—but choose your company wisely. On the way back, there’s a stop at Cabo Catoche. Honestly, the snorkeling is pretty disappointing if you’ve done it elsewhere in the world. But the lunch stop at Cabo Catoche is really nice for relaxing (white sand and hammocks).
Thursday, July 9:
Short morning walk to Punta Mosquito at 6 AM. Really nice.
Ferry to Chiquila (330 pesos per person) + ADO bus to Valladolid (300 pesos per person).
In Valladolid, we booked "Casa Lucia" via Booking. The hotel is gorgeous, with a colonial style, and very close to the ADO bus terminal and downtown. It’s super quiet and clean. There’s a shared kitchen you can use with a fridge, microwave, and water dispenser, plus a big table by the pool and a nice indoor terrace. Breakfast was simple but included. The only small downsides were the tiny room and bathroom, no mirror in the room, and a noisy fan.
Friday, July 10:
Not far from the ADO bus terminal is the colectivo station for Chichen Itza. They offer a round-trip to Chichen Itza with an option to stop at Ik Kil cenote on the way back and then drop you off in Valladolid for 370 pesos per person (Ik Kil entrance included).
For the Chichen Itza visit, we’d booked a tour with a guide often mentioned in groups—his name is Juan Pat. He’s a Maya who lives near the site and speaks excellent French. He reserves spots in advance for you and queues up to be the first on-site. It cost 500 pesos per person + entrance fees. His tour lasts 2 hours and focuses mainly on the main pyramid and the ball court. He’s passionate and fascinating, even if some of his claims, as a Maya, might be a little biased. I think it’s *really* important to have a guide—otherwise, you’ll miss so much. You can contact Juan Pat on WhatsApp at +52 985 121 2381.
Afterward, we went to Ik Kil cenote (showers and life jackets mandatory, lockers available). It’s *very* crowded, but still really beautiful with its lush vegetation.
Saturday, July 11:
Since we didn’t have a car but still wanted to visit other cenotes that seemed hard to reach by public transport, we decided to book a taxi for the day. We agreed on 1200 pesos to take us to 3 different cenotes and wait for us at each one. (To find taxis, just look where they park near the ADO bus station.)
He picked us up at Zaci cenote, which we’d walked to. We got there at opening time and were the first ones there—had the place to ourselves for a while! 150 pesos per person. A pretty cenote in the city center with lush vegetation. It’s a bit like Ik Kil but without the deep cylindrical effect.
Cenote Xcanahaltun: the most beautiful cenote we visited. Entry 250 pesos per person. It’s a closed cenote with a hole that lets light in—a cave-like setting. You can kayak inside. There are little fish at the edge that nibble dead skin off your feet. Since it’s closed, the water is *freezing*!
Cenote Palomitas: entry 250 pesos per person. Another stunning closed cenote, even more enclosed than Xcanahaltun. The hole in the ceiling is smaller, so it was pretty dark when we arrived—kind of an eerie vibe. But when the staff turned on the lights, it looked like a "Gothic cathedral" full of bright stalactites.
Cenote Sac Aua: entry 290 pesos per person. The ticket includes a guided cave tour (tip-based). This cenote is really unique with its central island and way less crowded than Suytun. Just so you know, the water is *really* cold in cenotes. In these three, in July, we had the place to ourselves for a while and never saw more than 2 families at once—so peaceful!
Sunday, July 12:
ADO bus to Bacalar (536 pesos per person).
In Bacalar, we stayed via Airbnb with a host named Luli, who offers several rooms with shared bathroom and kitchen.
The room is nicely decorated in a pleasant setting. It’s ideally located near the lagoon and downtown. The shared kitchen is handy. The mosquito net over the bed is useful because there are *a lot* of mosquitoes in Bacalar. Luli provides a water jug, which is really nice. The only big downside is the lack of water pressure in the shower—we had to rinse off by filling a bucket. Also, there’s no real door separating the room from the bathroom. We never met Luli in person, but she was very responsive via messages. The terrace in the middle of the vegetation is lovely.
From the ADO terminal to the place, we took a taxi for 40 pesos. Since this driver was honest about the price (we’d checked beforehand), we decided to use him every time we needed a taxi in Bacalar. Here’s his WhatsApp: +52 983 184 3585.
Monday, July 13:
We did a boat tour on the lagoon with "Bacalar Francophone Activities." Since we were just the two of us, it cost 3500 pesos. If we’d managed to be 4 people, it would’ve been 1000 pesos per person.
We had a private 4-hour tour on the lagoon with Steeve and his very comfortable boat. He’s from Quebec, so his French is perfect. During those 4 hours, Steeve showed us the lagoon’s iconic spots *and* places other boats don’t go. He told us about the lagoon’s history and gave great tips on where to go and where to eat. As a little bonus, he gave us a video taken with his drone during our swimming break.
Tuesday, July 14:
We went to Los Rapidos by taxi (400 pesos round trip) and entry was 225 pesos per person. It’s *very* touristy but really beautiful. You can eat there (expensive), relax, and go down the "rapids" as many times as you want. It’s worth it if you spend a few hours there. You can’t bring in food or drinks—you leave them at the entrance and pick them up on the way out.
Wednesday, July 15:
On Wednesdays, navigation is banned on Bacalar Lagoon, so we’d planned another excursion.
Visit to Calakmul from Bacalar with ABCtours (WhatsApp +52 983 319 8359).
This agency organized a trip from Bacalar to Calakmul with a French-speaking guide. Communication beforehand via WhatsApp was smooth. Mr. Checo, the driver, and Fernando, the guide (who spoke great French), picked us up on the day. Mr. Checo drove very carefully on the long road and always made sure we were comfortable. Fernando is passionate about flora and fauna—he’s a biologist with a degree in ornithology, so he knows *everything* about animals. The slightest sound or song, and he knows what it is. He’s got an eye for spotting them, from the biggest to the smallest.
During the trip, we stopped at km 27 for a short forest walk, then went to see the two main pyramids on the site. On the way back, we stopped at the bat cave for the magical spectacle of millions of bats flying out at dusk. In the end, we saw or glimpsed (some briefly) spider monkeys, howler monkeys, a toucan, 2 tapirs, turkeys, 2 deer, and lots of birds. If, like us, you’re more into flora and fauna than archaeology, I’d *highly* recommend this agency and tour with Fernando.
It’s not cheap, but the road between Bacalar and the site is *long* (3.5 hours). Price: 3900 pesos per person for 2 (3500 for 3, 3200 for 4).
Thursday, July 16:
ADO bus to Playa del Carmen (614 pesos per person).
In Playa del Carmen, we stayed in an Airbnb. The building is on the town hall square, next to the casino.
The best thing about this place is the *location*—super close to Fifth Avenue (La Quinta). The kitchen is pretty basic, but the fridge works well. There are supermarkets nearby. The rooftop pool is really nice. The two big downsides, though, are the soundproofing (you can *hear* the neighbor’s alarm and all the events on the square) and the *total* lack of water pressure in the shower. We had to fill a trash can with water to pour over ourselves. When we told the owner, he said it wasn’t normal and someone would come fix it, but we never heard back. Based on previous reviews, this seems to be a known issue that never gets resolved.
Playa del Carmen is *very* touristy on Fifth Avenue, but in a fun, musical vibe—we never felt unsafe. There are *tons* of little souvenir shops for tourists on this street. There’s a beautiful monumental sculpture on the beach (the two figures meeting in the air), next to which you can see the Voladores show (men climbing a pole, tying themselves with ropes, and descending headfirst while "flying" around the pole). The show is tip-based and happens several times a day. In our opinion, Calle 38 is prettier than Fifth Avenue—it’s lush, green, and quieter, with the sea at the end. Great for an early evening stroll. We had really good meals at great prices at "El Tio Noy" tacos, just a few meters from Fifth Avenue in a side street.
For souvenirs, we’d recommend going to Walmart instead of Fifth Avenue—you’ll find skulls, tequila, mezcal, keychains, mugs, glasses... at good, fixed prices.
Friday, July 17:
We did the excursion to Isla Contoy. Isla Contoy is an uninhabited, highly protected island. Only 200 people are allowed to land per day on a rotating basis, so only a few companies have permission to dock there. Most agencies subcontract the day to a third-party company.
We booked through VRM (Viviendo Riviera Maya), but it was Ocean Tours Mexico that handled the tour. Contoy is a little paradise. We were accompanied by multilingual guides, including French speakers, throughout the day. Steffy gave us info about the island during a short walk on the marked trails, and Leño Tlatemoa kept the mood up on the boat rides with music and dancing. Isla Contoy is *truly* stunning, and the lunch was delicious: grilled fish and chicken, guacamole and tortilla chips, rice, fruit, drinks (everything is brought and taken back by the guides). The snorkeling part was pretty disappointing if you’ve done it in Cozumel, though. The stop at Isla Mujeres isn’t very interesting either—it’s too short to explore, and the island is *extremely* touristy. Still, the excursion was very well organized, and we had a great day (2970 pesos per person).
Saturday, July 18:
We wanted to go snorkeling in Cozumel but thought the prices from French-speaking agencies were too high. Plus, for snorkeling, we figured we didn’t *need* a French-speaking guide.
So we found a much cheaper solution by taking the ferry from Playa del Carmen ourselves and choosing an agency in Playa. The round-trip ferry cost 663.50 pesos per person. Then we took a taxi to the snorkeling boat (100 pesos). The agency we chose is called Mystic Snorkel—they don’t have a physical office. The tour cost 1400 pesos per person. It was a small boat, but that day we were the only ones, so we got a private tour at the group rate. We stopped at 4 different sites, all very different and beautiful. We saw all kinds of fish, corals, a nurse shark, and turtles. El Cielo, with its huge starfish, is *exceptional*. If you’re going snorkeling in the Yucatan Peninsula, this is *the* tour to do—the other sites are pretty "poor" in comparison.
Sunday, July 19:
Morning dive with Triton Diving. I chose the Cozumel dive option. Great experience.
Booking via WhatsApp was easy. On the day of the dive, Selene, who speaks French, was our guide. She’s *very* attentive to the group’s safety. The briefings are clear and precise. In Cozumel, we did 2 very different sites: the first was a drift dive with lots of life—beautiful corals and fish. The second was a wreck, the C53, a 56-meter boat you can enter. Not much marine life, but a beautiful wreck intentionally sunk for divers—still in great condition. An unforgettable moment. Selene even took videos during the dive, which the club sends you for free afterward. I’d *highly* recommend this club.
Just so you know, in Playa del Carmen, the beaches were full of sargassum during our stay, despite barriers and daily cleanup. Locals told us the problem is getting worse and the sargassum is arriving earlier in the season. Tourism has taken a *big* hit this summer, and they’re wondering if tourism can even survive the sargassum season anymore. A lot of tourists are heading to the islands—Isla Mujeres and Cozumel—to enjoy the beaches, as the west side of those islands is sargassum-free.
Monday, July 20:
Colectivo to Puerto Morelos. First, a colectivo toward Cancun that drops you off between Puerto Morelos town and Puerto Morelos beach (40 pesos per person), then another from that junction to the beach (10 pesos per person).
In Puerto Morelos, we’d booked a room via Airbnb at "Piedra del Caribe." *Best* place we stayed in Mexico. It’s an aparthotel. Our room was ready before check-in, so they let us in early. The place matched the description—spacious, with a comfortable king-size bed. The shower had *great* pressure, which isn’t a given in Mexico. The staff was super friendly and welcoming. They let us use the pool, restrooms, and rooftop shower after check-out while we waited for our ride to Cancun Airport. They even kept our luggage. I *highly* recommend this place.
In Puerto Morelos, there was *way* less sargassum than in Playa del Carmen—it was actually swimmable.
We did the snorkeling tour with the fishermen’s cooperative for 450 pesos per person for 2 hours. The reef is close to the beach (you’re not allowed to swim there), so the boat ride is short. It’s not as pretty as Cozumel, but it’s nice and affordable. On Puerto Morelos’s page, you can also access a small, not-very-well-preserved reef. There’s also a cenote in the sea where fresh water mixes with saltwater—the water is murky there. We had a great dinner and excellent cocktails at "La Choza del Puerto."
Tuesday, July 21:
Wandered around Puerto Morelos (check out the church and read everything—it’s entertaining!), relaxed by the hotel pool, and left for Cancun Airport by taxi (400 pesos) booked via InDrive to head back to France.
Our highlights:
- Holbox
- The whale shark tour
- The cenotes
- The local flora and fauna (so present!)
- Isla Contoy
- Cabo Catoche (except for the snorkeling)
What we liked least:
- The bioluminescence (barely visible despite good conditions)
- The food—we found it not very diverse in taquerias
- The constant tipping
- The lack of water pressure in showers (fixed, wall-mounted, no hose or showerhead)
Don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions while it’s still fresh in our minds.
Traveling with just one spare pair of underwear, considering a hot shower a miracle, never staying in the same place too long by sleeping wherever night catches us, taking whatever local, improbable, and rickety transport we can find—this is the DNA of us wanderers. Except this time, the script for our movie is going to be a whole different genre. On paper, the destination doesn’t exactly scream epic adventure: Réunion! And what’s more... we won’t be two, or four, or even ten. We’ll be a solid thirty. All from the same family. Yes, thirty. At this point, it’s not just a trip—it’s a summer camp on the move! Why inflict this on such a peaceful island? Because my brother decided to get married there with his lovely bride. A great idea, you might say... especially when it involves relocating the equivalent of a small Ardennes village 10,000 kilometers from home for three weeks! So who’s stepping up to be the guide and wave the little flag?
So, for an exceptional trip, exceptional stories! Don’t worry, the debates at the supermarket over whether to choose plain chips or roast chicken chips, the beach picnics washed down with ti’ punch, and other rougail sausages to digest by the pool will only make it into the family archives. Here, I’ll stick to the tales of our beautiful escapes, the ones where we explore the wild corners of this little volcanic rock planted in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So where exactly are we headed?
For the first week—the subject of this first installment—we’re taking it easy. We’ll start by rediscovering the coastline, from the Souffleur in Saint-Leu to the Hermitage lagoon, before a little trip to the Cirque de Cilaos and its legendary road with 400 turns, just to get our legs warmed up.
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style.
All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of three years at most in Thailand, and I’m not a big expert on the country.
However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to piece together a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who miss it.
I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.
I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guards for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course.
Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious.
Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big property, be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t really made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons.
That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though, are much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been broken for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the side of the road, sometimes right on the road. When you arrive, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, which reminds visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. Seeing a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you might think it’s best not to cross paths with them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at temples on the brink of death, enduring terrible suffering. No one did anything about it. The image (and the smell) of one of them, dying and emitting the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The well-fed animal quickly became a happy, enormous beast with its own garden. Yet, it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water in them for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not a gimmick—it’s just that these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
It was winter, a winter with beautiful weather,
A season that only exists in the southwest of America,
I remember very well what I told you that morning
A month ago... A century ago, an eternity ago...
We’ll go... wherever you want, whenever you want...
Well, yeah, back from our adventure in our enchanting American West just a month ago, we’re already taking a bite out of one of its lesser-known competitors. "Flo, if you had to pick just one reason to justify your love for the U.S., what would it be?" The greasy, dripping burgers? No, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by saying it’d be the wide-open spaces... And that’s exactly what our new quest is taking us to—a land on the other side of the globe where the horizon also seems endless, where silence tastes like salty wind and sand, where freedom is measured in kilometers of desert tracks, where the GPS is mostly there to confirm you’re lost in the middle of nowhere... Add to that magic formula the fact that you’ll see more zebras, giraffes, wildebeest, and elephants than people per square kilometer, and you can imagine us setting foot in Southern Africa for the first time, more precisely at the small airport in Windhoek, capital of... of...? Brush up on your geography, damn it! We’re landing in Namibia!!!
To be honest, Namibian landscapes have been flirting with me for ages. So how did I resist this island of temptation for so long? First, the budget. Let’s just say that for the same amount of effort (and kidneys), the bank lets you choose two other adventures almost anywhere else on the planet. Then there were my girls. Yeah, back then, they were too little to dose up on Malarone, the only malaria remedy at the time... Long story short, ten years later, all the planets have aligned. First, I won the Euromillions! Well, almost... Let’s just say my girls are now old enough... not to take Malarone, but to stop following me on all my adventures! Jackpot! "Flo, how about a little two-person caprice, just the two of us, tackling the Namibian tracks?"
As we landed on the runway, first wow effect: The horizon is immense. It’s flat as can be, incredibly flat... So much flat space! Did I mention it was flat?... Looking into the distance, it feels like your gaze could circle the Earth without hitting a single obstacle—until you end up staring at your own backside. "Oh, what a nice view!" Well, it’s the first time I’ve seen my butt from this angle! Touching moment... Sorry, I’m rambling—must be the exhaustion from the three-flight marathon we just powered through via Ethiopia and South Africa... And yet, no time to philosophize about my anatomy. As usual, we want to rack up our first kilometers to be front and center at dawn tomorrow. After wrapping up the tedious Namibian immigration formalities and meeting the 4x4 that’ll be our companion day and night for the next fifteen days, we’re off! We’re not exactly fresh, but we’re ready to tackle the next five hundred kilometers in night mode, cruise control set due south! Just outside Windhoek, the local wildlife—a jackal—welcomes us with a smile: "Welcome to Namibia!" That’s what it said! Honest... Okay, first endless straight road, first flaming sunset, first corrugated dirt track, first Milky Way with zero light pollution... You get it—it’s definitely the day of firsts... First night camping, too, in the big trunk of our Toyota Fortuner parked by the side of the track... The real adventure, the kind that smells under the arms, can finally begin...
Here we go—finally, the big day has arrived! A trip the whole family (my two kids, my husband, and me) had been looking forward to for so long.
To keep it short, we left from Nice, arrived in Namibia on June 25, 2025, and left again on the 21st—four weeks later.
We used an agency for all the camping reservations, activities, and the car rental. At least that side of things was taken care of. Michaël was our contact throughout the planning and the trip itself.
We spent our first night at Londiningi BB. A bit out of the city center but very quiet. The rooms were spacious and clean, and we could eat on-site that evening. Perfect for recovering from the flight.
This travel journal is our second on VoyageForum, following last year’s where we recounted our four weeks in Vietnam.
The goal remains the same: since some members on this site share tips, experiences, and great deals that help us prepare for our trips, we do the same after returning—both to give back a little and in the hope that our experiences might be useful to others in some way.
Our route was as follows: Bangkok, Siem Reap, Krabi, Suratthani, Koh Phangan, Koh Tao, Chumphon, Bang Saphan, Prachuab Khiri Khan, Sam Roi Yod, Hua Hin, Phetchaburi, Bangkok.
Beyond rediscovering Bangkok, our objectives were the long-held dream of seeing Angkor and exploring southern Thailand, much of which isn’t overly touristy.
A quick big thank-you to Barbot, who took the time to answer several of our questions.
12/07/2013
The cheapest flight we found earlier this year was a Paris-Bangkok route with a layover in Moscow for 1440 €, total for two people.
So, this time we tried Aeroflot. Airbus A318 for the first leg, A330 for the second. Nothing particularly annoying to report—the passengers were very calm, the cabin temperature was comfortable, and we had enough legroom.
That said, the quality of the meal trays was pretty mediocre, and the flight attendants weren’t exactly comedians.
We’d like to remind everyone that it’s best to exchange as little money as possible at the airport upon arrival, since the rate is about 5% worse than at city banks.
Of course, we made sure to take the airport exit where you can catch official taxis to avoid getting scammed. So, we queued up, a little lady gave us the ticket, and off we went with the driver.
Generally, this system works well because these drivers are registered, know their duties, and the risks they face if they break the rules. Except that day, right off the bat, we got the scammer of the day. His first move was to snatch the ticket from my wife’s hands—the one you’re supposed to keep in case of a complaint. My husband saw it, but after a full day of travel, we were a bit out of it, and honestly, there was no reason to be suspicious. But once we started driving, the guy refused to turn on the meter. We insisted more and more firmly, but nothing. So, I used the famous method of opening the door and starting to step out of the car. At 40 km/h, that scares the driver more than the passenger. He finally turned on the meter, but that didn’t calm him down—quite the opposite. For the next half-hour, he ruined the ride by demanding extra fees here and there. Having dealt with several scam attempts last year in Vietnam, this wasn’t exactly new, and we were proud of ourselves for staying pretty zen. Still, this guy was a little scary—he was completely wired and aggressive. Honestly, it was hard not to think he was on something. He’d be perfect for a *Scarface* remake. When we finally arrived at the hotel, he followed us to the entrance. We paid the two tolls (25 and 45 baht), gave him the usual 100 baht extra for the ride, and stayed polite but firm. So, meter: 245 baht + 100 baht + 25 and 45 baht for tolls—we paid the exact amount, no way we were tipping this guy. He left furious, but he was already like that before picking us up... Anyway, avoid Mr. Chartree Chidchen, number 089 826 7308, car E2663!
We were so relieved to finally settle in at Feung Nakorn Balcony hotel in the temple district. 42 € per night, great reception, all the staff is friendly. The AC works fine, the bed seemed hard at first but turned out to be comfortable. The hotel is quiet, away from the nightlife, but at this time of year, many places are less crowded than in high season. Even with a nice fish pond and outdoor breakfast area, it’s a decent hotel, though we felt we could’ve found something better.
After a night on the plane, the first afternoon is always a bit of a slog. We napped for a few hours, and when we woke up—guess what—we were starving. We visited a temple across from the hotel (nothing special) and then decided to take the Chao Phraya Express, the river shuttle that serves many piers along the river. It was a really enjoyable experience. The steel gangway wobbles when you board and disembark, the boat sits low in the water, and sometimes you get splashed. During peak times, you’re packed in like sardines, but most of all, there’s that exotic urban landscape passing by, especially the temple rooftops.
At that exact moment, the boat was packed. We didn’t see a ticket booth at the pier, and we tried in vain to pay the few baht for the ride. The cashier on the boat was too busy, and another employee we called didn’t have time to help us. Oh well, we weren’t going to force the issue. Still, this mode of transport is super practical for avoiding traffic, and at the piers, the lines with station names are clearly marked, with colors matching the flags on the boats. Combined with a map like the *Routard* guide, it’s easy to navigate.
We easily made it to the restaurant *Harmonique*, located near one of these piers. It’s a unanimous favorite on this forum, and let us tell you—it’s well-deserved. What a wonderful experience that evening! We only saw the outdoor gazebo because there was no way we were dining inside. It’s not flashy, so those looking for a luxurious setting should look elsewhere.
That night, the staff was a bit slow, and we had to track them down several times to move things along. But oh, my friends—what a feast on the plate! Start with the appetizer platter for two at 250 baht, featuring four specialties, each more tempting than the last, followed by their famous crab curry for 200 baht. There’s *so much* crab in there! The dish is so delicious and rich that when you finish, you feel—how to put it—like it was almost *too* good, to the point where you’re almost put off eating for days. And also, oh yes, we *will* be back. Their satay chicken is just as amazing, and it would be a crime not to mention their generous dessert with ice cream, warm banana, and chocolate, plus their *excellent* almond milkshake.
Later, we took a taxi to Kao San Road, mainly to book a Ko Tao-Chumphon trip for 600 baht per person at the Lomprayah counter. In hindsight, we should’ve booked all three of our trips there right away.
Kao San Road is *ultra*-touristy—better for younger crowds, but it’s still worth seeing. There’s rock ‘n’ roll, hippies, and crowds everywhere.
We walked back to the hotel, and when we got a little lost near a canal, a really nice older Thai man spontaneously appeared out of the night to kindly point us in the right direction.
Finally, a real long night of sleep ahead—we cranked up the AC. Sweet, the vacation has begun!
Hi there,
I just got back from a trip to Sri Lanka from December 18th to January 1st with 2 adults and 2 kids (12 years old).
If it helps, here’s my itinerary.
We left on December 18th from Madrid with Qatar Airways. No complaints. I booked my tickets back in March for 800 € per person. (I flew from Madrid because I live near the Spanish border and was too worried about strikes in France.)
We arrived on December 19th at 4 PM (local time). Before leaving France, I’d booked a taxi through MyTransfer for 59 € to Sigiriya. A van was waiting for us at the airport exit.
A never-ending 3-hour drive to Sigiriya. We stayed at Samana Guesthouse—very simple, clean, with a pool and an excellent Sri Lankan breakfast. Shower and straight to bed.
Friday, December 20th: Beautiful weather, but very humid and hot. We visited Lion Rock (36 € for adults) and then Pidurangala.
I loved both sites—they’re a must-do in my opinion.
Spent the late afternoon by the pool.
Saturday, December 21st: Another gorgeous day. The guesthouse manager offered us a free 2-hour tuk-tuk tour. We first visited a lake, rice fields, the temple, and the Sigiriya market, plus the usual tourist trap—the botanical garden (no pressure to buy anything at the end).
Then we took a tuk-tuk to Dambulla Temple, the Golden Buddha, and the wholesale market.
Sunday, December 22nd: Still beautiful weather. I’d booked a taxi for 8 AM. We did all the long trips by taxi to save time. I’d ask for prices from 2 or 3 WhatsApp taxi agencies 2 days or the day before—super responsive, always got replies within 5 minutes. We headed to Ella (4-hour drive) for 22,000 LKR.
Arrived in the afternoon at Rest Full Homestay—a small, family-run guesthouse. Clean, cozy, and an amazing Sri Lankan breakfast.
In the afternoon, we went to Nine Arches Bridge. It was a Sunday, a Sri Lankan holiday, so it was *packed*—mostly locals and very few white tourists! Even though it was crowded, it was cool because it was all Sri Lankans. We waited an hour for the train. It’s worth seeing, but honestly, I didn’t think it was that amazing.
Then we headed to the station to check if we needed to book tickets for the train to Haputale—turns out, no.
Monday, December 23rd: Beautiful weather. We hiked Ella Rock—a gorgeous trek. The final stretch is steep but shaded, so it wasn’t as tough as I’d read. The whole hike is stunning from start to finish. We saw the train pass twice (one blue, one red) and lots of women picking tea.
After that, we did Little Adam’s Peak. It’s not hard, but it was *packed* with tourists—meh. Luckily, at the top, you can walk a bit farther (down one side and back up) to get some space to yourself.
What I *didn’t* like was the commercial vibe at the big café/restaurant with a pool at the entrance of Little Adam’s Peak. Loud music, all that money being made right next to little souvenir stands run by Sri Lankans or tea-picking women. Felt off.
Ended the day buying souvenirs at one of the few shops we found during the trip.
Tuesday, December 24th: Beautiful weather. Took the train to Haputale. We got to the station 30 minutes before the 9:30 AM train. We could’ve taken 2nd or 3rd class—I went with 2nd (160 LKR per person).
It was crowded, but we managed to get seats—first 2, then 3. Only a 1-hour ride, but I *loved* it—windows and doors open the whole time.
Arrived in Haputale around 11 AM, and the mist was already rolling in.
We walked to our guesthouse, The Mist Holiday Bungalow. Simple but clean, with a great view of the tea plantations. The owner’s wife is Vietnamese and used to work for French tour operators, so her French is still pretty good—helpful for us since our English is terrible. They booked us a tuk-tuk for 4:45 AM the next day (2,000 LKR) to Lipton’s Seat.
Spent the afternoon wandering around Haputale. Not much charm, but there’s a nice fruit and veggie market and a short walk through the tea plantations.
Wednesday, December 25th: Beautiful weather. The tuk-tuk was on time to take us to Lipton’s Seat. We were the first ones there—the sky was just starting to turn pink. In the end, only about ten of us watched the sunrise. The guesthouse had packed us breakfast, and we walked back down (half on the road, half through the plantations). Didn’t see any tea picking since it was Christmas, but the walk was still incredible. We took detours through villages full of kids.
After that, we visited the tea factory. The tour was really interesting, and we took the bus back down to Haputale. Such a great moment—whole families were heading to mass, dressed up and made up. All so beautiful.
At noon, we left for Udawalawe National Park. Taxi for 14,000 LKR. Stayed at River Inn Safari Cottage. *Warning*: It’s the same place as Eagle Safari Cottage. I don’t recommend it. We’d always stayed with families before, but here it was just staff—totally different vibe. The pool was nice but not very clean (water was murky). The bungalow was big and fine, but it was brand new—so new the asphalt floor wasn’t fully dry. It’s in the middle of nowhere, so we had to eat on-site. Couldn’t leave a review on Booking because they never confirmed we’d stayed, and they canceled our reservation the next day.
Thursday, December 26th: Beautiful weather. I’d booked a safari through the hotel for 5:30–10 AM for 54 USD. Honestly, yes, there are a lot of jeeps, but it was great. The kids loved it—we saw everything there was to see.
Left by taxi at 11:30 AM for Welligama (12,000 LKR).
We didn’t stay in Welligama city but at Coconut Beach, between Welligama and Midigama. *Total crush* on the guesthouse: Sky Mountain Café with View. Such a lovely family. The mom makes amazing meals at reasonable prices. The view from the hill over the sea is unreal.
Spent the afternoon walking along the beach.
Friday, December 27th: Beautiful weather. My kids are surfers. Unfortunately, there weren’t any boards their size to rent at Coconut, so we took a tuk-tuk to Welligama Bay (1,000 LKR). They surfed from 8 AM to 5 PM—rental was 5,000 LKR for the day. Meanwhile, we walked the beach and swam. Water was 29°C.
Saturday, December 28th: Beautiful weather, rain from 4 PM until midnight. Same surf day. They were so well-behaved the whole trip, so this was their reward.
Sunday, December 29th: Beautiful weather. Beach day at Coconut. *Warning*: It’s a reef break. For surfers, there are three spots (Coconut Left, Middle, and Right). The boys bodysurfed (with fins) all morning, and at 1 PM, we took the bus to Hikkaduwa.
Stayed at Hotel Universal Beach. Nothing special—right on the water, but the rooms were dark even though they were clean. The manager was super nice, but the rest was meh, and breakfast was mediocre compared to what we’d had before (2 eggs and 3 slices of toast). Plus, it was late—8 AM.
First impression of Hikkaduwa wasn’t great—way too many Russians for our taste.
Monday, December 30th: Beautiful weather. Spent the whole day exploring. Turtle Beach, then the other side of the beach (toward Galle) near the fishing port. The beach there is much wider, with scattered hotels and super quiet. It’s beautiful—I should’ve booked somewhere in that area. Ended up having a great day away from the crowds.
Tuesday, December 31st: Overcast, then beautiful, rain at 4 PM. Had to end the year (and the trip) with some surf. Rented boards for the kids (3,000 LKR per board for the day). Bad luck—the waves were on a reef break but small. Not great for them, but no big deal. They still got out of the water by 2 PM. Walked the beach (which is gorgeous), had a juice, and went for a swim. Then back to surfing in the rain at 4 PM.
Wednesday, January 1st: Left by taxi at 5 AM (18,000 LKR). Flight at 10 AM. Arrived in Madrid at 8 PM.
I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).
So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!
We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice.
For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.
We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.
Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).
Day 1 – Paris to Lima
Foreword
I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.
Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).
Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.
As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.
Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.
Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
We did the Langtang trek (hike) from September 10th to 17th, with the first and last days being the trip from Kathmandu and back—so 6 days of actual walking. It’s a fairly well-known trek but certainly not as famous or crowded as those in the Annapurna or Everest regions, which is why we chose it.
In theory, it’s mandatory to have a guide for this trek. In reality, it seems there are ways to bypass the regulations: we met at least two people hiking without a guide—a South Korean, a New Zealander, and possibly also a couple of English women and an American couple, though we’re not sure if they had a guide.
The agency we booked with had told us it was an affordable trek for relatively older people in good shape—which is our case (I’m 72 myself). I have to say upfront that we found it quite challenging, maybe because we didn’t have good weather—it was the end of the monsoon season. To be clear, no matter your fitness level, I’d say doing this trek in the middle of the monsoon season would be suicidal.
Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi
On Monday, September 8th, there had been violent protests in Kathmandu against the government, which had, among other things, blocked access to social media and been accused of nepotism and corruption. There were 19 deaths. The situation was very tense on the day of our departure, Wednesday the 10th. The agency warned us that public transport was very unreliable. So, we decided to take a jeep, at an additional cost of $100 ($160 minus what was already budgeted for the bus).
We left a little before 7 a.m. and it took us a good hour just to reach the outskirts of Kathmandu. Along the way, we saw several houses and vehicles set on fire by protesters.
The road to Syapru Besi is only 120 km, but it’s frankly awful. It’s always narrow, winds through endless mountains, and the shoulders range from bad to confusing to nonexistent. Several sections are just dirt tracks. We didn’t regret opting for the jeep, as we could stop several times at our convenience—if only to let Y (my Thai partner) throw up everything she had. She’d taken her usual motion sickness medication, but the constant turns, accelerations, and braking eventually made her terribly carsick.
In Nuwakot, we stopped for breakfast at a nice little restaurant, Jimbu. It was around 8:30 a.m., and we’d barely covered 60 km. The restaurant has a lovely garden overlooking the Trishuli Ganga, the river flowing down from Syapru Besi. First photo: the river in the bottom right corner, mist and clouds over the mountain on the other side.
An hour later, my second photo: the hills along the Trishuli Ganga. You can see the different crops—lush green rice paddies in the lower right and corn, already yellowed and likely harvested, in the foreground on the left. And of course, the mist and clouds through which you can glimpse the mountain on the other side of the river.
When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”
This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...
Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.
Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!
La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.
Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.
Some practical info:
- The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side.
- We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €.
- The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen.
- Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day.
- Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.
Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Our first stop was just a few kilometers from Marrakech, at a lovely house perfect for relaxing and recharging before continuing. It’s called Bleu House, a little paradise on the outskirts of Marrakech. The welcome was very warm, with a beautiful pool and a lovely garden.
Next, we headed toward the Tichka Pass. The road has really improved in recent years—it’s much easier to drive now. No more getting stuck behind trucks, and today, the construction is practically finished.
Morocco has turned green after the recent rains. It’s a joy for the herds and shepherds.
I hesitated about writing this travel journal...
This summer, we only did the classics (the 3 northern parks and Zanzibar) and let a local agency take care of everything from start to finish.
No craziness, no risks, no sleeping under the stars, no self-drive, no venturing off the beaten path, no incidents, and not even any delays in the pre-planned itinerary...
But don’t think we were disappointed!
The whole family (there were 6 of us) came back with smiles and memories of great moments spent together.
So, if you're looking for a "classic" way to discover Tanzania, this is the place to be.
Our 2-week itinerary:
- Arusha (1 night upon arrival)
- Tarangire (1 night)
- Ngorongoro (2 nights in Karatu then Irmisigiyo)
- Serengeti (3 nights in Robanda, Togoro Plains, and Seronera)
- Zanzibar Stone Town (1 night)
- Zanzibar Matemwe (3 nights)
- Zanzibar Jambiani (3 nights)
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions...
So, now that I've just finished my Japan travel journal here, I figured it was high time to honor this destination we came back from so enchanted.
Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some!
Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!
I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to include fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to take her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can slip away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!
Anyway, since I love maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red); we only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband’s newly retired, I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.
In broad strokes, it was very classic:
First, we “settled in” at Luang Prabang (8 days), because we wanted and needed to.
From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we know, distances aren’t just about km!
Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4,000 Islands while stopping by the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites.
We wrapped up with the Bolaven Plateau.
A few practical notes: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having picked up our luggage in Bangkok to check it in for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized.
We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. Quick, but to be fair, we were on a “small” plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too crowded in line!
At the end of our trip, we didn’t fly out of Paksé but from the nearby airport in Thailand, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), then Bangkok and Paris.
You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the (Chinese) train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!
With that intro out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter.
To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang
It’s an ancient city that breathes, a living spring.
Here, no kitschy signs like “I miss you in Fengyu,” nor mass-produced fake antiques.
The century-old houses still bear the marks of wind and rain; in the morning, you hear roosters crowing, and at dusk, smoke gently rises from the kitchens.
This city doesn’t try to please anyone—like the spring water flowing through it, it simply keeps living at its own pace.
Located in Eryuan County, in the Dali Prefecture of Yunnan, the ancient town of Fengyu is a nationally designated historical and cultural city. It’s nicknamed the “land of scholars and ink”—during the Qing Dynasty, the Fengxiang Academy produced four *jinshi* and eleven *juren* in the imperial examinations. The Bai families made studying and farming a true legacy. Even on market days, you’ll find stalls of calligraphy and paintings, while lintels and screen walls are covered with family mottos.
Fengyu was also an important stop on the ancient Tea Horse Road. It preserves the second-largest Bai architectural complex in China, just after Xizhou. The famous traveler Xu Xiake spent seven days here and compared it to the “peach blossom paradise.”
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area).
In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
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
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!
It often happens that we're asked what to visit in Belgium.
And the answers usually point to Bruges, Ghent, Antwerp, and Brussels—and rightly so, as these cities are well worth visiting ;).
However, Belgium, though small, isn’t just limited to these four cities.
I live in one of them (Brussels), enjoy spending time in the other three, but I’d like to highlight some lesser-known spots that could add to the trip for those who want to see a bit more or something different.
Between trips, I like exploring one or two corners of the country where I live.
Hence the idea for a travel journal of walks.
Most of the places I’ll talk about can be visited as a day trip from Brussels, whether by public transport or car.
In chronological order of the topics covered:
- The Gileppe Dam (Liège province) - message 2, page 1
- The Domaine de La Hulpe (Walloon Brabant) - message 3, page 1
- Mechelen (Antwerp province) - message 4, page 1
- The coast - message 5, page 1
- The Westhoek, from De Panne - message 6, page 1
- The Zwin, from Knokke - message 7, page 1
- Lier (between Mechelen and Antwerp) - message 8, page 1
- Mons (Hainaut) - message 9, page 1
- The Florenville region - message 12, page 1
- The East Cantons - message 13, page 1
- Dinant - message 18, page 1
- The Japanese garden in Hasselt - message 24, page 2
- Leuven - message 29, page 2
- Louvain-la-Neuve - message 32, page 2
- Ostend - message 42 (page 3) and message 166 (page 9)
- The floralies of Groot-Bijgaarden - message 43, page 3
- Halle Forest - message 44, page 3
- Pralines - message 54, page 3
- Charleroi - message 68, page 4
- Namur - message 92, page 5
- Le Bois du Cazier (Marcinelle) - message 95, page 5
- Couques and gosettes - message 96, page 5
- Liège - message 99, page 5
- Tournai - message 115, page 6
- Oudenaarde - message 121, page 7
- Meise Botanical Garden - message 124, page 7
- Tongeren - message 125, page 7
- Beersel Castle (Flemish Brabant) - message 126, page 7
- Brussels in lockdown (messages 150 and 154, page 8)
- Notre-Dame à la Rose Hospital in Lessines (messages 161 and 162, page 9)
- Westende (message 167, page 9)
I’ll keep updating this list as the journal progresses...
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those stunning doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a touch of saffron, and occasionally rosewater.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (during the week and daytime; colors are more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you’ll see some men dressed in Western clothes, they’re very few. The white dishdasha is truly the shared attire of all men. The dishdasha, which has no hood, is distinguished by a small pom-pom attached to the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go overboard with it! "It smells like the pom-pom" is an expression that’s now part of our shared language, my husband and I.
Another must of men’s attire is the kuma, a small round head covering, usually white with brightly colored patterns. The keffiyeh is also worn (but without the cord called an agal in Arab countries), and it’s mostly worn by those with roots in the desert, from what I understood.
And what about the women, you might ask? Some are veiled, some in full black (but not a burka—more like a chador + abaya), due to the influence of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, whereas the traditional outfit used to be a layering of very colorful dresses. Most of the women we saw wore neutral clothing, a plain veil over their hair, but with their faces uncovered. We also saw many saris and colorful veils—don’t forget that 40% of the population consists of Indian, Nepalese, and Bangladeshi immigrants, who work a lot in tourism, hospitality, restaurants, services, and construction.
Just to clarify, as a tourist, there’s no pressure to wear a veil, and never any disapproving looks. Of course, you’ll save the mini shorts, plunging necklines, bare shoulders, and midriffs for the hotel terrace—but I’d say that’s the same for men and women, and with the sun being strong, it’s better for your skin too.
Here’s the introduction! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
A little sneak peek?