The idea of visiting Japan goes back a year now. I remember because I was looking for cheap flights to Europe from Paris. Surprisingly, the round-trip to Japan with Air China was just as affordable—if not cheaper—than many European destinations.
So, the tickets were booked. Three seats (including one for a 12-year-old), ten days over Easter 2018, AirBnB accommodation. Of course, in ten days, you visit without *really* visiting—you only scratch the surface. Just the classics: Kyoto, temples, moonlit rivers; the Shinkansen; and Tokyo, gardens, wandering, high-tech, and... maids.
I have to admit, we don’t know much about the country, and the thought of how we’d manage is a constant source of worry. What if this trip reveals my inability to open up to other cultures?
We board the first Air China flight with that question on our minds.
I really enjoyed reading your American travel journal, and I’m excited to follow along on your Japanese adventure (we’re planning our own trip in April 2019).
Looking forward to your updates!
Françoise
Air China? No problem. At least, nothing like the shambles some predicted. Clean, on time, professional. Sure, the food wasn’t great, and economy class comfort is pretty basic. But no more, no less than on Air France transatlantic flights. As for the in-flight entertainment, no miracles: the usual jumble of blockbusters—the same ones that make me walk away during the year—and a long-haul flight just reminds you they exist. One curiosity: a surprisingly large catalog of Chinese comedy films (I had no idea comedy was such a big deal in that country). Didn’t have the energy to watch any, so I’ll never know if China has its own equivalent of Gérard Oury.
Dvořák on Air China
For music, the "Classical" selection ranged from Debussy/Ravel to the American Quartet, unexpectedly taking me back to my last big vacation in Iowa.
From Paris to Shanghai, along the Arctic Circle
Shanghai Airport, let’s say it right away, is impressive. Not dirty at all, bright, and sprawling endlessly across what first seems like a vast plain. But on second glance, every perspective—even nearby—is obscured by a thick haze of grime. A vertical city looms in the distance, while in the other direction, massive structures cut through the smog, moving almost imperceptibly: cargo ships making their way through the pea soup. What looked like a plain is actually the sea—a shoreless expanse with no horizon, where ghostly vessels glide silently.
We won’t get to visit Shanghai or its surroundings. The airport alone keeps us busy during our four-hour layover, interrupted by persistent iPhone resellers. Three solicitations in a row—my long-nosed profile doesn’t go unnoticed in this crowd of locals, whether traveling with family or on business. Many wear masks (anti-pollution?). In a typically non-European posture, a young executive squats, feet flat, scrolling on his tablet.
Our first wait, at customs, introduces us to a sharply dressed officer with very limited authority—"like in some corporations," as they say. His role doesn’t allow him to grant foreigners a few hours in the Middle Kingdom. He scrutinizes us, takes our photos, confiscates our passports, and places them on his superior’s desk. Or at least, we assume it’s his superior. This other officer is a virtuoso on his landline phone (the touch-tone kind, an ‘80s classic), answering it faster than his own shadow. Practicing for *China’s Got Talent*? Maybe that’s why he’s the boss. Eventually, he examines our passports and temporary immigration forms—one to declare our arrival, the other to confirm our quick departure—decides we’re acceptable, and hands everything back to his lower-ranking colleague, along with a brief grunt. The junior officer, duly equipped with a seal bearing the People’s Republic’s emblem, stamps our passports with a broad gesture and a sharp *thwack*.
We had no idea we’d face half a dozen more queues. As modern as it looks, Shanghai Airport suffers from omnipresent, cumbersome bureaucracy (like, we imagine, much of the country). We wait for customs, fume while heading to Terminal 1 (after being casually told our flight to Japan left from there), then backtrack once the mistake is realized. We shuffle along with other bewildered French travelers in a line labeled "Foreigners" to access the international departures area (despite having just landed there), and finally show our papers to a team of inspectors who, for the *n*th time, dunk our luggage in an X-ray soup.
The Air China flight to KIX (Osaka-Kyoto) is just as impeccable. Clearly, this Chinese airline is a great find. The landing is almost on the deep blue, on a man-made embankment in Osaka Bay. Of course, just like the Chinese, the Japanese want to know who’s visiting their land. Fair enough. We hand over our fingerprints to machines, fill out yellow and white cardboard forms, and wait for a Japanese version of Justin Bieber to glance at them with a bored expression before declaring us admissible. One thing’s for sure: it’s much better organized than in China. Advisors are everywhere, helpful and smiling. We finally retrieve the suitcase we checked in Paris hours ago (what day is it again?) and escape customs—at least one queue we’re spared. Maybe next time on the way back.
On the JR train from Haruka to Kyoto, I discover the face of this new world.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading your American travel journal, and I’m excited to follow along on your Japanese adventure (we’re planning a trip there in April 2019).
Looking forward to your updates!
Françoise
That’s so nice! And I’m thrilled to have a reader in Corsica—the homeland of half my ancestors.
I’m boarding my Air China flight and heading off on this adventure. I’ve flown with them on domestic Chinese routes before and didn’t have an unforgettable experience. Since they often offer great prices from Barcelona, I’ll take a closer look next time if I can’t find what I want with my favorite airlines.
"Si partir vivre ses rêves remplit l'âme, les partager après les avoir réalisés la grandit"
"Qui veut apprendre à se connaître commence par explorer le monde"
I’m boarding the Air China flight and heading off on this adventure. I’ve flown with them on domestic Chinese flights before and didn’t have an unforgettable experience. Since they often offer great prices from Barcelona, I’ll take a closer look next time if I can’t find what I want with my favorite airlines.
Hey Eric,
Thanks for the info! Which airlines would you recommend based on your experience? And are they reasonably priced? When I booked, Air China was unbeatable for my chosen dates.
From the train, Kyoto announces itself with modesty. Here and there in this residential suburb, you spot cubic cars neatly parked in their garages.
Tokyo Station: no trouble finding the subway line that’s supposed to whisk us five stops north. It’s marked in English, and very clear. One downside: the Suica card, bought specially before departure, sets off the electronic gate alarm like crazy. This prepaid pass, super useful in Tokyo, was supposed to work elsewhere too. Not on this subway, apparently, which belongs to a rival system called Icoca. The Suica’s mascot is a penguin, Icoca’s is a platypus: Japanese transport networks seem to have a soft spot for egg-laying mammals or birds. Back home, we often use the pigeon as a symbol too, but more for the passengers. A matter of perspective.
Kyoto subway
Subway, work, Kyoto
Repairs
The neighborhood where we’re staying is close to Imadegawa Station. It’s not a wildly lively area, but it’s welcoming with its small streets and scattered shops, often advertised in our language.
Bakery
France still has a great reputation in a certain Japanese imagination. That explains some of the surprises: here, trains and subways run on time, everyone queues up neatly to board. I didn’t see a single piece of paper on the ground—neither in the trains, nor in the stations, nor anywhere else. What a contrast with Paris and its suburbs, where stations often look like so many Cour des Miracles—even the most touristy ones. The first thing that strikes you in Kyoto is the bikes zooming out of nowhere when you least expect them. There, it’s just like Paris.
Imperial Palace (closed)
In the Imperial Palace Park
Mirror
We’re just steps away from the vast Imperial Palace Park. The Palace itself is closed for now, but the surrounding nature is wonderfully soothing for the jet lag haze. We head to the southeast corner and continue on foot toward the historic Higashiyama district, famous for its shrines discovered along hilly paths.
A street in Gion
Ten minutes away, Gion, the geisha district, is very quiet on this Monday lunchtime. We spot a few apprentices, and I chase them briefly with my camera, wondering what would happen if you pulled the big bow on the back of their outfits.
Following geishas
Memorial
I’m surprised to find people on this island who speak worse English than I do. Some clues during the Airbnb booking had already tipped me off: "I’ll send you a rink," the hostess had written. Luckily, that link didn’t lead to nowhere. The same person thanked us for the corporation, instead of cooperation. At our first restaurant, the young staff tried hard to speak English to us. A commendable effort, but it showed its limits when I asked for the bill at the end of dinner, "the bill, please." "The bil?" the waiter replied. "Of course, just now." Thirty seconds later, he came back with a beer in hand and placed the glass in front of me with a big smile. "Youl bil, mister." With all the self-control of someone from the East, I thanked him profusely and, careful not to embarrass the friendly but clumsy waiter, I took it upon myself to down the good beer, all while asking for the bill again—this time avoiding English.
Thanks for the info. Which airlines would you recommend based on your experience? And are they not too expensive? When I booked, Air China was unbeatable for the dates I chose.
Good evening Alain,
Choosing an airline depends on criteria that vary in importance for each person. In your case, Air China was the cheapest, and you're happy with it—that's what matters most. If the airline had disappointed you, at least you'd have known it was budget-friendly, and that's all you would've remembered. Good call for you, and next time I plan a trip, I'll take a closer look at them.
And "check" works way better than "bill" for the tab. At least you got to enjoy a good beer too 🙂.
"Si partir vivre ses rêves remplit l'âme, les partager après les avoir réalisés la grandit"
"Qui veut apprendre à se connaître commence par explorer le monde"
"Oh perfect, thanks for correcting that blunder. I guess it won’t be the only one :)"
And thanks for these gorgeous photos that give away your favorite spots! :-)
I love the one of that little street in Gijon with all its electrical wires—it’s so typical of the old streets in small neighborhoods.
Regarding airline choices, I’ll share my thoughts after nearly 40 years of traveling.
For about 20 years (roughly 1980–2000), I often flew with Aeroflot, which offered great prices to Asia and even Africa, despite long overnight layovers in Moscow. Finnair also had a great period. Then, until around 2010, I favored Gulf airlines while they were undercutting European carriers. Those were the golden years of Etihad, Qatar Airways, Emirates, and also Saudi and Kuwait Airways, which are less well-known. Nowadays, Chinese airlines are dominating the market, almost without any advertising. That’s the case with Air China, but also Southern, Eastern, Hainan, and Xiamen Airlines. Worth noting that these "regional" airlines originated from the People’s Liberation Army Air Force.
A few key points:
- These choices are based solely on price. When my ticket was covered, I really enjoyed Qatar Airways’ business class and their dedicated terminal in Doha. But that was then...
- Little experience flying to the Americas and none to Oceania.
- One exception: for trips to the Middle East and Central Asia (the "Stans"), Pegasus from Marseille.
To wrap up, a fond memory: in 1977, my first long-haul flight—Orly to Beijing on an Air France 707, with stops in Athens, Karachi, and Bombay. *That* was travel...
We came across a few trainees I briefly photographed
In the photo, they’re just two tourists who rented kimonos—a very common practice 🙂
wondering what would happen if you pulled the big knot decorating the back of their outfit.
It depends on the tying.
Best case, almost nothing happens, and worst case, the obi unravels and falls to their feet. Since the kimono is held together with ties underneath, you won’t end up exposed without the obi (the "belt").
I really like the tone of this travel journal—it’s refreshing.
"... a great memory: in 1977, my first long-haul flight, Orly/Beijing on an Air France 707, with stopovers in Athens, Karachi, and Bombay. Now *that* was traveling....."
I also remember my first two long-haul flights with quite a few stopovers in 1963 and 1967, also on 707s;
the first was with Pan Am (PA 1): Frankfurt-Vienna-Istanbul-Beirut-Tehran-Delhi-Bangkok-Hong Kong (same route on the way back) + the connections Brussels-Frankfurt round-trip on a Sabena Convair 240 (Metropolitan)
the second was with Air France: Orly-Hamburg-Anchorage-Haneda then Haneda-Hong Kong-Bangkok-Delhi-Tehran-Beirut-Athens-Orly + the round-trip connections by train Brussels-Midi/Paris-Nord with stops in Mons-Quevy-Aulnoye-St Quentin.
I also remember that back then, at every landing, condensation water that had built up during the previous four hours of flight would drip on our heads. Another memory: it was forbidden to get off the plane during the stopover in Delhi, but we were thoroughly sprayed with Fly-Tox by the airport staff.
In the photo, it's just two tourists who rented kimonos, a very common practice 🙂
Indeed, I saw quite a few foreign women (including veiled women) trying on kimonos. The two I followed looked just like young Japanese women (though you could say the same about Japanese tourists).
wondering what would happen if you pulled on the big knot decorating the back of their outfit.
It depends on the tying.
Best case scenario, almost nothing happens, and in the worst case, the obi unravels and falls to their feet. Since the kimono is held together with ties underneath, you won’t end up exposed without the obi (the "belt").
Good to know... I’m not saying it’ll ever come in handy, but hey, I’ll keep it in mind.
I really like the tone of this travel journal—it’s refreshing.
That’s so nice to hear! I’m walking on eggshells, given all the experts chiming in here :)
Impeccably gloved in white, the driver’s cap adorned with gold braiding, the bus 59 conductor, strapped into an unmistakable uniform, gives me a surprised look as I hand him the money. Is it really that hard to buy three one-way tickets? I can’t figure out what he wants, and afraid of looking like a fare-dodger, I make sure not to step away from the driver’s seat. But the local RATP employee leaves me in the dark about what to do next.
The man, very professional in his uniform, only speaks in a measured voice when the bus is stopped. Most of the time, though, it’s just to tell me to let passengers off first. I finally start to understand what’s off: you pay for the ticket when you leave the bus, not before you’ve enjoyed the service—unlike back home. Maybe this should be added to the list Claude Lévi-Strauss made of reversed customs in Europe and Japan in his book The Other Side of the Moon.
We’re heading to one of the city’s—and probably all of Japan’s—most famous spots. Unfortunately, we’re not the only ones with that idea, and the beauties of Kyoto suffer from the same affliction as Prague’s Old Town, Montmartre, or Venice: a tidal wave of loud, ill-mannered tourists. We explore amid a dense crowd, all shouting variations of “Hey, Bob, check this out!” in different languages.
But maybe, in situations like this, “you’ve got to look at people from above,” as a melancholic Black hero in Sartre once said.
No matter! The sheer beauty of the Golden Pavilion—a modest, unassuming structure simply set by a pond stirred by venerable carp—makes up for a lot. The original pavilion was burned down by a local arsonist, as Mishima recounts in his most famous book, and what we see today is a reconstruction. Does it matter? The power of this place lies in the sincere harmony of a simple, moving scene—or rather, moving *because* it’s simple. We weave through visitors waving smartphones and bulky cameras with long lenses, trying to savor the serene image of the spot between shoves. Higher up, along a wisdom path trampled by the masses and cone-lickers, a solitary tower catches the eye.
In the park of the Golden Pavilion
The same goes—times a hundred—at Fushimi Inari Taisha, a shrine dedicated to a clever little fox who was granted divine power to make rice grow. The image is in every guidebook, right next to the Golden Pavilion: a series of vermilion torii gates protecting a steep path to the inner sanctuary.
Fushimi Inari Taisha
The very layout of the place is the root of its misfortune: the entire international crowd, chattering and packed in tight, gathers here, united in their love of selfies. The spot is stunning, no doubt about it; you tell yourself you’ll have to come back outside peak season to truly appreciate the path that invites you to rise above.
Good evening Alain,
Regarding airline choices, I’ll share my thoughts after nearly 40 years of travel adventures.
For about 20 years (roughly 1980–2000), I often flew with Aeroflot, which offered great prices to Asia and even Africa, despite long overnight layovers in Moscow. Finnair also had an interesting period. Then, until around 2010, Gulf airlines won my favor as they disrupted European carriers. That was the golden age of Etihad, Qatar Airways, Emirates, and also Saudi and Kuwait Airways, which were less well-known. Today, Chinese airlines are dominating the market, almost without any advertising. This includes Air China, as well as Southern, Eastern, Hainan, and Xiamen Airlines. It’s worth noting that these "regional" airlines originated from the People’s Liberation Army Air Force.
A few important details:
- These choices were based solely on price. When my ticket was covered, I really enjoyed Qatar Airways’ business class and their dedicated terminal in Doha. But that was then...
- I have little experience flying to the Americas and none to Oceania.
- One exception: for trips to the Middle East and Central Asia (the "Stans"), Pegasus from Marseille.
Anyway, to wrap up, a fond memory: in 1977, my first long-haul flight, Orly to Beijing on an Air France 707, with stops in Athens, Karachi, and Bombay. Now *that* was travel...
40 years of flying experience—respect! What a story.
I’ve been following you step by step on this thread—I love the tone of your narration and the photos that illustrate it.
It’s fun, informative, and crystal clear 🙂
Hi Catherine,
It’s always a joy to be read, and even more so to be appreciated. Thanks for your message.
I'm loving reading your travel journal, it's so funny! 🙂
And that trick with the bill reminds me of our experience in Sri Lanka, where we were also surprised to see a beer arrive instead of the check! 🙂 It must be pretty common after all!!
Your photos are really beautiful too!
I’m loving reading your travel journal—it’s so funny! 🙂
And that bill mix-up reminds me of our experience in Sri Lanka, where we also got a beer instead of the check! 🙂 Must be pretty common after all!!
Oh yeah, true! Do we know why the mix-up happened in Sri Lanka? Hope the beer was good at least (in Japan, it’s excellent).
Your photos are really beautiful!
Thanks! I’m putting in the effort to improve—results don’t always follow, but Japan really inspired me.
I was in Kyoto about two weeks ago, and it was truly amazing to see all those people. Hard to believe that 20 years ago, during my first visit, I’d rarely run into Westerners. And the few I did see were usually expats. To avoid the crowds, the best trick is to get there when the sites open. For Fushimi Inari, late afternoon with the setting sun is perfect—I was lucky enough not to have too many people around.
"Si partir vivre ses rêves remplit l'âme, les partager après les avoir réalisés la grandit"
"Qui veut apprendre à se connaître commence par explorer le monde"
I think I’m finally figuring out what’s off: you pay for the ticket when you exit the bus
That makes sense since the price depends on the distance traveled (except for buses within Kyoto itself, which cost 230 ¥).
the beauties of Kyoto suffer from the same issue as Prague’s Old Town, Montmartre, or Venice
You can add Barcelona and New York to that list...
I stopped going to Kyoto in 2014—there were just too many French people. At Kyoto Station, it felt like Gare Montparnasse. But I’ll go back one day, off-season.
A quick word on the travel journal. Well, I’m not learning anything new, but it’s well written, some reactions are amusing, and most importantly, the photos stand out.
Hi Alain,
+1
I loved your travel journal about the USA—a country I know a little—and now I’m discovering Japan (well, part of it, let’s stay modest) through your amazing writing.
Great job and thank you!
Cheers,
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
I was in Kyoto about two weeks ago, and it was indeed impressive to see all those people. It’s hard to believe that 20 years ago, during my first visit, I’d rarely come across Westerners. And the few I did see were often expats. To avoid the crowds, the best solution is to be there when the sites open. For Fushimi Inari, late in the day with the setting sun is amazing—I was lucky not to have too many people around.
Hi Eric,
Great idea. The late afternoon might be tricky with the time difference, but I like the suggestion. As for tourists, I didn’t just see Westerners—far from it. Lots of visitors from Asia, especially, I’d guess, from Indonesia or Malaysia, which explains the sign below:
I think I’m finally figuring out what’s off: you pay for the ticket when you exit the bus
That makes sense since the price depends on the distance traveled (except for buses within Kyoto itself, which cost 230 ¥).
It’s the same in France, yet we pay before the trip. There’s an aspect that goes beyond simple logic, in my opinion, and it comes down to how passengers are perceived: a matter of trust, respect for rules, behavior...
the beauties of Kyoto suffer from the same affliction as the Old Town of Prague, Montmartre, or Venice
You could add Barcelona and New York to that list...
Unfortunately, I could easily add a dozen more without even trying, and way more if I dug a little deeper.
I stopped going to Kyoto in 2014—there were just too many French people. At Kyoto Station, it felt like Gare Montparnasse. But I’ll go back one day, off-season.
A word on the travel journal. Well, I’m not learning anything new, but it’s well-written, some reactions are amusing, and most importantly, the photos stand out.
Well, that’s something at least. Thanks for reading.
Good evening Alain,
+1
I loved your travel journal about the USA—a country I know a little—and now I’m discovering Japan (well, part of it, let’s stay modest) through your remarkable writing.
Well done and thank you!
Take care
It’s great to see you here, Jean-Pascal. Looking forward to reading more from you.
The conveniences of modern life make discovering Kyoto very accessible for the passing visitor. The sense of strangeness when faced with a different civilization is softened by familiar landmarks: Wi-Fi is almost everywhere, and the transport network is made easier by the near-systematic use of English. Observing a few typical scenes—those we’d only heard about—adds to this vague sense of familiarity.
After school
Take school kids, for example: they’re in uniforms and move in groups, boys on one side and girls on the other. The guys wear impeccable suits, white or pale blue shirts, and ties.
Hello Kitty !
The girls’ outfits are very modest, often with ties too (!) and pleated skirts that fall to the knee (just above for the boldest). Some wear sailor-style uniforms—not the kind from *Commander Cousteau*, mind you.
Neat rows
Secrets of the day
Like their elders, students often wear masks covering their mouth and nose and carry translucent umbrellas.
Asia in the subway
In the subway, female professionals in strict suits mingle with their male counterparts—or *salarymen*, as they’re called here—slumped with exhaustion. Like the students, they wear office suits, light-colored shirts, and ties.
Small deliveries
Anti-migraine?
The Imadegawa district, where we’re staying, is very quiet.
Imadegawa
Common mode of transport
Horizontal ranking
...and vertical
This tranquility seems to extend to the rest of the city. Exploring the area around Kyoto’s massive station, one thing struck me: it almost feels like the countryside. Cars, even those with combustion engines, make almost no noise, honking is rare, and all traffic moves quietly. Pedestrian crossings are guided by bird songs—cuckoos, tits. The visually impaired are assisted by specific signals. So far, I haven’t seen any jostling in crowds of thousands of travelers.
A little corner of paradise
At sunset
This constant attention to making life easy—that is, eradicating, as much as possible, the minor hassles of everyday existence—might be a way to compensate for the extreme demands of school years or office work.
Kawaii elephants
Is there also a link to the *kawaii* trend? This pink tsunami touches every aspect of life here: at all hours, little stylized characters—bears, ducks, rabbits, ungulates, toothless creatures, monotremes, and other critters we thought had disappeared from our lives since *The Magic Roundabout*—encourage you in squeaky voices to sign up for insurance or devour some greenish candy on the spot.
Kawaii shop
Kawaii dwarf
Kawaii bookstore
Is it infantilizing and silly? Well, yeah, it’s *kawaii*. So are the sentimental stories that fill entire sections of bookstores. Maybe even the local taste for Tchaikovsky’s and Rachmaninoff’s lush outpourings, judging by the classical music section of a department store. I should’ve known—it was decorated with one of France’s most historically *kawaii* creations: the Barbapapa family.
Barbapapa in the land of *Fulguropoing*
No, it’s because there’s an aspect that was overlooked: the presence of the fare-box and the change machine, which noisily exchanges coins, are positioned next to the driver. This way, the driver has full control over what happens in the vehicle and can ensure all passengers have safely disembarked. It’s also worth noting that on long-distance buses, there’s a box by the middle door where you take a ticket that shows your boarding section. This is compared with the illuminated board that displays the fare when you exit. We should also mention that this system exists on some local trains made up of single or double railcars (with only one accessible entry/exit point).
Not necessarily for long distances. All the local buses in Fukuoka, for example, have ticket vending machines (and pass kiosks) at the entrance. As far as I remember, other companies in Kyushu do too.
... we come across a pensive young woman on public transport
and above all, we avoid getting pinched really hard.
Bamboo groves, monkeys, and temples. Arashiyama, west of Kyoto, brings together several facets of "mainstream Japan." The Togetsukyo, or "Moon Crossing Bridge," connects the Monkey Park to the shopping district. In the latter, nothing that might shock tourists: luxury boutiques, charming trinkets, and conventional restaurants. One curiosity—the bamboo root is perfectly edible. As for the taste, opinions are divided, but hey, it’s edible.
Class photo near the Moon Crossing Bridge
The bamboo grove is a 15-minute walk from the bridge. It’s beautiful, filled with the secret charm that in this country elevates even the most natural things. Of course, it’d be much nicer without the crowds armed with selfie sticks.
Bamboo groves
Bird of prey gallery
On the way back to the bridge, a gallery invites visitors to pet owls. It’s a rare opportunity—after all, how often do you get to run your hand through the feathers of an owl, whether it’s small, medium, or large? But be careful, warns the attendant after pocketing a modest fee. You must present the back of your fingers, palm facing upward, at the level of the bird’s head, and gently stroke down its back. Got it! Otherwise? Otherwise, who knows. I didn’t try it—I couldn’t imagine explaining to a Japanese emergency room that I’d been attacked by a poorly petted little owl.
Big eyes
A round with a Great Horned Owl
It’s a pleasant experience—the birds let you pet them—but it’s punctuated by a little shiver when the raptor turns its head toward you and locks eyes with you. That’s the downside of not living in a Walt Disney or *kawaii* universe: a bird’s face remains forever expressionless, and to ward off the possibility of a violent reaction, the petter prefers to stop there.
Our animal friends
The monkey park, on the other side of the bridge, brings us back into the world of mammals. It’s not a zoo—the macaques are at home here, free to roam. A sign tells us no primate lives farther north than this. We reach their habitat after a 20-minute climb. The animals are indeed there, sprawled on the grass, lounging on tree branches, or grooming each other.
A task they’re well-suited for
The monkeys ignore the humans—after all, this is their home, and if they tolerate us, it’s because of the promise of effortless food. You *can* feed the primates with apples or peanuts, but only under strict rules: food is handed over through a wire mesh and under the watchful eyes of guides.
Essences
The descent back to the human world offers views of vibrant landscapes, which must be unforgettable in early autumn.
Before leaving Kyoto, a quick visit to the Yodobashi department store near the station. Electronics, household goods, and smart gadgets. A giant TV screen shows images of France, featuring a report on our dear old Transilien—probably the last thing you’d expect to see in a country so proud of its punctual transport. But I guess it’s exotic here.
An 8K TV to watch the Transilien
Nearby, a super-comfortable anti-stress bed seems to deliver on its promise, judging by the blissful sleep of a customer who came just to try it out.
Trial in progress
I tiptoe out of Yodobashi, careful not to disturb this perfectly contented man’s rest.
The "yaoi" section (manga about romantic relationships between boys, a genre high school girls love) in a bookstore isn’t exactly kawaii... It’s more on the erotic side, sometimes even downright "hot."
(The covers leave little room for doubt, by the way.)
I’m following your travel journal closely, by the way.
The "yaoi" section (manga about romantic relationships between boys, a genre high school girls love) in a bookstore isn’t exactly kawaii... It’s more on the erotic side, sometimes even outright "hot."
(The covers leave little room for doubt, by the way)
Ah, not being a fan myself, I can’t argue. My impression after flipping through was more like cotton-candy-pink stories, but I’ll defer to the experts on this one.
I’m following your travel journal closely, by the way.
Hi Alain,
Your travel journal brings back such great memories. I visited Japan for the first time in spring 2017. It’s so interesting to read your posts while you’re there. For me, an initial feeling—or maybe some preconceptions I brought with me —transformed over time into something even more positive after I got back, even though I already loved it while I was there. I feel like I brought back a hidden treasure that only fully revealed itself to me little by little and took on a life of its own.
The way you tell your story and your photos are such a treat. Thank you so much!
I’m really looking forward to what comes next.
Maevita
I really like your photographic perspective. It’s so different from the "classic" shots, and that’s part of the travel experience—even if we don’t always dare to photograph people candidly.
"Si partir vivre ses rêves remplit l'âme, les partager après les avoir réalisés la grandit"
"Qui veut apprendre à se connaître commence par explorer le monde"
I really like your photographic angle. It’s so different from the "classic" clichés, and that’s part of the journey—even if we don’t always dare to photograph people candidly.
Hey Eric
I have a friend who’s a professional photographer (not a tinkerer like me), and he has a knack for approaching people and asking them to pose. But he also takes stolen shots, as long as the image doesn’t harm the subject. It’s a lesson I try to keep in mind. Sometimes, I ask for permission. But certain candid scenes would lose all their magic if I did... So, to be honest, I prefer to act discreetly, even if it weighs on my conscience a bit.
Absolutely, instant photos have that extra soul. The art of turning an ordinary scene into a really beautiful shot 😉.
"Si partir vivre ses rêves remplit l'âme, les partager après les avoir réalisés la grandit"
"Qui veut apprendre à se connaître commence par explorer le monde"
Hi Alain,
Your travel journal brings back such great memories. I visited Japan for the first time in spring 2017. It’s fascinating to read your posts while you’re there. For me, an initial feeling—or maybe some preconceptions I brought along —transformed over time into something even more positive after I returned, even though I already loved it while I was there. I feel like I brought back a hidden treasure that only fully revealed itself to me little by little and took on a life of its own.
The way you tell your story and your photos are a real treat. Thank you so much!
I’m looking forward to what’s next.
Maevita
Good evening Maevita,
Thanks for your kind words. It’s true that some experiences work on us without us realizing it and only reveal their true value over time... We were in Japan last April, but this was written day by day. So it comes with all the flaws—and maybe the strengths—of a discovery in the moment. Just really happy you enjoyed it.
I’ve been on a plane before, but it wasn’t this fast. The Shinkansen with its funny nose cuts across the country like a katana slash.
The nose worn by the effort of two Shinkansen
When the train stops, a door slides open like something out of a sci-fi story. You step right in—no steps, the train floor is level with the platform: perfect for wheeled luggage.
Sliding door
Waiting for departure, text version
and voice version
Each car has sixteen rows of five seats. The aisle divides the row into groups of two and three seats, each group able to be rotated to face forward or backward, depending on what the passengers prefer. All you have to do is pull a lever at the base of the seat near the aisle.
Jet profile
Interior comfort
Power outlets under the windows let you charge laptops and phones. When you sit down, you instinctively look for a seatbelt to buckle before takeoff—understandable reflex. Thin carpet, dim but adequate overhead lights for reading.
Two detective novels had already tipped me off about how important the rail network is to Japanese society. *Tokyo Express*, also called *The Tokyo Express* by Seicho Matsumoto, revolves around the mystery of people who supposedly committed suicide, conveniently spotted at Tokyo Station. The story explores whether the killer could’ve committed the crime while sticking to the train schedule. This huge late-1950s hit—pretty much unreadable for French readers in its last section—speaks volumes about how central railroads are to the local imagination, and shows a real taste for the scientific precision of a plot woven into the reality of the train timetable.
Rails in Kyoto
Kyotaro Nishimura’s *The Tottori Dunes* builds an amazing plot around the most unlikely event: a train has vanished, along with dozens of passengers. It left, but never arrived. Vanished? Destroyed? But how could that be? And why the ransom demand? I’ll leave it to mystery lovers to discover the answers in Nishimura’s twist-filled novel.
On the way from Kyoto to Tokyo, Mount Fuji is on the left, but unfortunately, it was hidden by clouds during our trip. The landscapes we passed weren’t the endless suburbs some careless writers describe—they’re a mix of countryside and cities, with huge industrial complexes popping up now and then.
View from the train
The cars are full: businessmen, tourists, families with babies. Several times, a hostess comes by with drinks and ice cream. The conductor, in white gloves, full uniform, and cap, bows each time he enters or leaves the car. A large electronic display above the door scrolls messages in Japanese and English, giving travel updates and announcing the next stop: “We will soon make a brief stop at Shinagawa.” Flashing arrows clearly show which side the exit will be on.
Brief encounter
The only downside? The Shinkansen’s toilets aren’t high-tech. So, no fancy bidet options that make Japanese restrooms so great. We make do by trying to decipher the instructions titled “how to use the toilet,” which highlight—by omission—an odd but apparently common way of doing things that needed to be banned. How do you say *E pericoloso sporgersi* in Japanese?
I’ve also been reading your travel journal with interest—I love the tone, sometimes caustic, sometimes offbeat, but never dull. 😉
I’m drooling over your photos, whether it’s the candid shots (I don’t know if I’d have dared to take those portraits) that speak volumes or the polished ones with framing, colors, or exposure (the night shot of Gion is stunning, for example). Bravo!
Thanks for taking the time to let us live vicariously through your experiences—it’s really uplifting. 🙂
"A large electronic display, visible to everyone above the door, scrolls alternately in Japanese and English, providing travel information and alerting passengers to the next stop."
Not to mention the cute little tune that announces the upcoming announcement!
And kudos for the photo of that red Meitetsu train you're passing by
(between Nagoya and Toyohashi?).
Forgotten, the hushed Kyoto with its gentle ways. Here’s the capital, Tokyo, with its fast-paced rhythm. Taking the subway already feels more like a combat sport: the cars are more crowded, and some people make space by pushing their way in with their backs first.
Asleep
Hanging on
Dreaming
Among friends
Don’t let go of the handrail
Like this young mother
Our apartment is in Ryogoku, the sumo district.
Heavy stuff
Tributes
Celebration
Overwhelming
Tributes to the greatest sumo wrestlers line the avenue leading from the station, like stars on Hollywood Boulevard. Each one features a small statue, the champion’s record, and their handprints. Inside the station itself, huge portraits remind visitors of the legend of these agile yet hefty athletes.
Cave art
Taking flight
Not bad, but what if we dance?
The Edo-Tokyo Museum is just a stone’s throw away. A quick note: two nearby stations share the same name, something we’ve noticed several times already in this city. It’s confusing but makes sense since there’s a separate subway station and a train station. For Ryogoku, you’ll need to head to the train station to get closer to the museum entrance. The visit is fascinating, tracing the history of the capital up to the present day, with detailed models and reconstructions—so detailed that binoculars are provided to take it all in. The exhibit is complemented by an extensive collection of images. A French-language audio guide is available for free, and it even displays the text.
Like all major cities, Tokyo revolves around different hubs of activity. One of the most famous is Akihabara.
The return of kawaii
Akihabara, a Vegas strip vibe
On this weekday evening, the resemblance to the Las Vegas Strip is striking: a wide avenue lined with neon lights and massive illuminated signs draws a crowd looking for entertainment. You won’t find casinos here, but shops for geeks, otakus, manga and video game fans—or whatever you call them.
Maid in Japan
Here and there, maids in short outfits, speaking in high-pitched voices like Minnie Mouse, hand out flyers. I take one: the glossy pink paper invites me to visit a "maid café," where I’ll be served a kawaii dish shaped like a teddy bear, followed by a dessert mimicking an animal of the same kind. On the back, I learn I could rent a themed room for the modest sum of 500 yen per hour (just under 4 €, plus tax), provided I buy something. And, I imagine, get to admire the maids at my leisure. Out of curiosity to better understand the quirks of this country, the idea of checking it out piques my interest.
"A large electronic display, visible to everyone above the door, scrolls alternately in Japanese and English, giving travel information and alerting about the upcoming stop."
Not to mention the cute little tune that announces the next announcement!
And kudos for the photo of that red Meitetsu train you’re passing by
(between Nagoya and Toyohashi?).
Yeah, it must’ve been around there. Glad to please a fellow traveler. And no thoughts on Kyotaro Nishimura?
I’m also reading your travel journal with interest—I love the tone, sometimes caustic, sometimes offbeat, but never dull. 😉
Hello Violaine.
Ah, "never dull"—that’s a real compliment. Very honored.
I’m drooling over your photos, whether it’s the "candid shots" (I don’t know if I’d have dared take those portraits) that are so expressive, or the "polished" ones with perfect framing, colors, or exposure (the night shot of Gion is stunning, for example). Bravo!
Thanks for taking the time to let us live vicariously through your experiences—it’s really uplifting. 🙂
See you soon,
Violaine
I checked out your Sicily travel journal—now it’s my turn to congratulate you on the quality of your photos! The text is also packed with info, from what little I’ve read so far.
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I'm starting my first travel journal since VF reopened!
This will mostly be to share my impressions and some photos, with a few days' delay, but I'm starting this journal while I'm still here.
First, I'd like to thank those who helped me prepare for this trip.
I was able to organize this stay in one of the most expensive countries in the world thanks to the home-exchange principle. Not necessarily a direct swap, but through a points system, which is more practical for choosing where you want to go without it having to be a reciprocal exchange.
For this trip, there will already be two different accommodations. We'll see how it goes after that.
The first place is near Yverdon-les-Bains, close to Lake Neuchâtel.
So, we're going to explore this area!
We arrived under capricious weather that won’t leave us for the next few days!
We had dinner at a pizzeria recommended by *Le Routard* in Yverdon, then took a little nighttime stroll through the town center before heading inland to settle into our accommodation.
We discovered a very large, quiet house—and especially the cat that stayed behind! Funny for a couple of mice! He’ll be sleeping with us 😹
This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rentals kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything fell into place—I told myself, now’s the time!
Preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan?
Not in the end.
The south or not?
Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or play it by ear?
Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela on this destination (the guide has been updated since).
---/---
You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek!
(‘Beefsteak’ for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
March 2nd — Departure by bus from Latour at 6:50 AM. The journey isn’t direct: we pass through Elne then Corneilla. In Perpignan, I switch to a BlablaBus heading to Barcelona’s northern bus station. Before reaching Le Perthus, French police stop us to check IDs. Several people aren’t in order, but after about fifteen minutes, we’re on our way again. We’re checked again at La Jonquera: this time, the wait lasts almost forty-five minutes while police identify those in violation and wait for a vehicle to pick them up. The driver then tries to make up for lost time; we finally arrive at our destination half an hour late.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.
Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.
Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church
, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes
—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit.
I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.
Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare
We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.
We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.
Summer 2022 left me with a sense of unfinished business, so here I am back in Swedish Lapland for summer 2024, ready to attempt the Sarek crossing again—and this time, tackle part of the Kungsleden too.
After much hesitation, my partner Jean Marie and I decided to start with the Kungsleden, which is, from what we’ve read, stunning but very busy (and it really is!!), and finish with the wilder option: SAREK! This park is known as Europe’s last true wilderness—sounds like a dream, right?!
The downside of this plan is that there’s no way to resupply in Sarek, and the Kungsleden isn’t exactly set up for long-distance trekking either, so we’ll have to carry a lot of food for the first part of the trip with Sarek in mind. Oh well, we’re motivated!
Our plan is to start in Abisko (the classic route), head to Vakkotavare (also classic, but with some variations to avoid the official trail and the crowds), then continue the Kungsleden from Saltoluokta. Before reaching Aktse, we’ll set off on an east-to-west crossing of Sarek (weather-dependent, since aside from the Skarja hut in the center of the park, there’s no shelter if conditions turn bad).
At least we’ll be on the right side of the park to climb Skierfe and enjoy the jaw-dropping view of Rappaladen if we have to bail on Sarek.
All in all, that’s 17 days of trekking, including 1 rest day and 1 buffer day for weather delays.
So if you’re interested, I invite you to follow our fully packed backpacks!
08/03 - Abisko – 5km before Abiskojaure
Some info (guides we used for prep, SFT map, sending food to Saltoluokta)
08/04 – 5km before Abiskojaure - on the east shore of Lake Alisjavri
08/05 – East shore of Lake Alisjavri – just before Tjaktja
08/06 – Just before Tjaktja – above the Salka hut via Nallo
08/07 - Salka – just past Singi + side trip to Djalson Lake
08/08 - Singi – Teusajaure
08/09 - Teusajaure - Vakkotavare (end of the first section of the Kungsleden)
08/10 – rest day in Saltoluokta + round trip to the Sámi village of Pietjaure
08/11 – Saltoluokta – Sitojaure
08/12 - Sitojaure - Skierfe - Sarek or no Sarek?
08/13 – Skierfe – somewhere above Rapadalen
08/14 – Somewhere above Rapadalen – above the Skarki hut
08/15 – Above the Skarki hut - Skarja
08/16 – Camping at Skarja
08/17 – Ruohtesvagge
08/18 – Ruohtesvagge - Padjelantaleden
08/19 – Padjelantaleden - Ritsem – End of the trek
08/20–24 - End of the trip (Lullea - Stockholm)
And of course, the recap
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style.
All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert.
However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about it.
I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.
I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guardians for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course.
Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious.
Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons.
That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though? Much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been full of holes for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and enormous beast with its own garden. Yet it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water there for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not just for fun—these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
June 2024.
While hiking with my brother on the GR 36 Tour du Morvan, I catch sight now and then of strange rectangular markers fixed to tree trunks. Against a bright orange background, a deep black Greek tau topped with a white dove. My first encounter with the Assisi Way.
The Way of St. Francis: a pilgrimage route linking Vézelay in Burgundy to Assisi in Italy, covering nearly 1,800 km.
It felt like an obvious next step—I immediately knew I’d take it on, attempt the adventure solo.
In the months that followed, I talked about my project to everyone—family, friends, my partner. An avalanche of comments, more or less the same but varying depending on each person’s character and life experiences. But deep down, it all boiled down to one legitimate question: why?
And the answers?
Hesitant, awkward, partial, even confused. I quickly realized they weren’t so easy to find. It was as if my project seemed more like a whim, a kind of intimate caprice, rather than a well-thought-out plan.
Of course, I knew the reasons that pushed me to leave—you always have to give some. Loved ones need to understand to feel reassured, and that’s understandable.
But I fear that when I list them, they’ll sound like the same old checklist anyone embarking on this kind of journey might give.
Of all the reasons I could mention, I’ll highlight just one here: the call of the road, the solo adventure that brings a powerful sense of freedom.
A bit like Monsieur Seguin’s goat, who from her comfortable pen gazes longingly at the unconstrained horizon of the mountain.
But if I’m being honest, I think I didn’t really know what I was looking for—or, more importantly, what I’d find. Deep down, when I reflect on it, one word keeps coming up that explains nothing and everything at once: desire.
Now well past sixty, I know that when I ask myself who I am or where I’m going, two things bring me fully back to myself: hiking and writing.
And my intention was also to anchor this adventure through words, day by day. Writing down my feelings, emotions, discoveries, and reflections each evening. The famous travel journal that grounds the daily experience in reality.
When I discovered the app "Polarstep," which was initially just meant to keep my loved ones updated and reassured, inform them of my progress, and maintain a connection, I found an opportunity to do it a little differently than usual.
No retrospective notes polished up after returning, but spontaneous writing—recounting everything that crossed my mind during the day and publishing it immediately. A journey lived in real time.
This text is the exact transcription of my daily writings. Rereading them, I didn’t change a thing—just corrected a few mistakes and tweaked some awkward phrasing here and there. Short texts, fitting the format imposed by this kind of app. Writing as if addressing others.
Now, all that was left was to walk.
April 18, 2026 – Vézelay.
This travel journal summarizes a trip I took in March to Argentine and Chilean Patagonia. It starts in El Calafate and ends in Ushuaia. During my planning, I considered looking into the Australis cruise from Punta Arenas to Ushuaia, as well as the W trek in Torres del Paine National Park. In both cases, I was put off by the prices. Instead of the cruise, I found two interesting wildlife excursions from Punta Arenas: whale watching in the Strait of Magellan and observing king penguins in Tierra del Fuego. The journey to Ushuaia was by bus. For Torres del Paine, things were a bit confusing, so I reached out to two agencies. In the end, I went with a rental car option, overnight stays on-site, and day hikes. I shared my full itinerary with the agency and ended up being taken care of by a local Argentine agency and a Chilean one.
So, here we go...
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!
From Southern Shikoku, between land and sea, to the blue waters of Miyakojima and finally Tokyo’s megacity
Hi everyone,
I have to admit, I really hesitated before deciding to write this travel journal... Writing one takes a lot of time and energy, and since this is my 4th trip, I wondered if it would even interest anyone other than myself (both for the discovery and the writing). But after a few people asked, "Are you going to write a journal?" and especially after rediscovering the joy of reading other travelers’ journals about Japan or elsewhere on this forum, I’ve decided to share my 4th installment in the Land of the Rising Sun here.
The itinerary:
27 full days, from late May to late June 2025, right in the middle of the rainy season, including:
-->13 days in Shikoku, from Kochi (Kochi Prefecture) to Matsuyama (Ehime Prefecture)
-->7 days in Miyakojima (Okinawa Prefecture)
-->7 days in Tokyo
The trip was decided on fairly last-minute again this year.
Since I regularly check flight prices to track fluctuations for this destination even without concrete plans, stumbling upon a slightly cheaper direct flight (900 €) than what I’d seen in previous months (around 1,200–1,400 € on average) for a Paris-Tokyo route with Japanese airline ANA was too tempting to resist the urge to return to this enchanting country. After much hesitation between exploring the San’in region (Matsue, Tottori, Yamaguchi) and Southern Shikoku, the decision was made—I took the plunge! The ticket is booked: Paris to Kochi with a layover in Tokyo, all with ANA, the airline I’d been dreaming of... for 1,120 € per person. Okay, it’s not cheap, but it’s better than in 2023.
Departure in 2 weeks! Now I just have to get everything ready!
Intense prep work over these next 2 weeks to:
finalize a more precise itinerary and reach an agreement—yep, because even though we both love Japan, our preferences differ slightly, and we have to choose between exploring new places or revisiting beloved spots...
decide how much time to spend in each area without rushing while still exploring
research places that might interest us and watch videos about Japan
book accommodations: yes, it’s possible to do this on the spot, but last year, we realized that last-minute options were pretty expensive, so we’re booking ahead—though we’ll keep a few options open in case better deals pop up later
reserve rental cars
order yen
check the weather regularly and wonder if choosing the *tsuyu* (rainy season) was really a good idea—are we going to be drenched the whole time???
"What hard work," you might say! Going to Japan for a month—what a tough life!
Despite this being my 4th trip, the excitement is just as intense as the first time.
The only small downside is that when we booked the flight, there weren’t many seats left, so we’re only sitting together on the international return flight. Plus, on the way there, we have middle seats.
Another lingering question: what French-language films will be available? According to the internet, the selection seems limited.
Oh well, these are just minor details—it’s already time to fly!
PS: I’ll be posting slowly and irregularly... so for those interested, be patient, and maybe set an alert...
Kattegat isn’t just the name of the village in the TV series *Vikings*—it’s also the stretch of water separating Denmark from Sweden... the sea, basically! And further north, you’ve got Norway and its fjords!
Originally, I’d planned to just do a loop around Kattegat, with the *Under* restaurant in Lindesnes as our anniversary treat... but along the way, we thought, why not "push" a little further north, keeping an eye on the budget since we’d chosen to travel by car in June 2025 through Scandinavia.
Why by car when most travelers opt for a camper van, while others prefer the comfort of cruises?
Well, because we don’t own a camper van, renting one is pricey, and then you’ve got to add fuel costs (those things guzzle gas!), ferry fees, and other "tolls." All things considered, we went for mostly rentals—especially since there were four of us at the start of the trip.
We spent the first week in Denmark with our daughter and son-in-law. Then they flew back to Belgium, and we continued our adventure as a couple.
For accommodation, we mainly booked Airbnb apartments, which helped keep costs down and, most importantly, let us prepare our own meals (diet, diet!).
In this travel journal, you’ll discover (or rediscover, for those who followed my older ones) our unbridled love for theme parks, museums, unique experiences, and—especially in Denmark—Legos!
Unfortunately, we didn’t do any hikes this year because the unpredictable weather had made the trails slippery, and since I’d already taken three tumbles during the trip, I didn’t want to risk another!
In the end, we traveled for 32 days, covered 6,200 km, and most importantly, discovered the charming country of Denmark, marveled at Norway’s breathtaking fjords—all without suffering the heatwave that hit France and Belgium that June!
If you’ve got any questions, don’t hesitate to ask!
Here’s our account of our trip to Malaysia from September 11th to 27th.
I hope our tips can help others as much as this forum has helped us!
Day 0:
Departure from Nantes with a transfer in Amsterdam via KLM (720 €).
Day 1:
We arrive at KLIA1 in the early afternoon.
First challenge: figuring out where to pick up our luggage. Turns out the answer is right under our noses—we need to take the airport’s internal metro!
Once we’ve got our bags, we withdraw some cash from a Maybank ATM right there.
Next up: SIM card! Just outside the arrivals hall, several kiosks offer them. We go for a Celcom 5 GB card (70 RM).
Then it’s taxi time to get to KL, in the Bukit Bintang area—about 85 RM in a slightly old taxi with weak air conditioning.
We check into our Airbnb apartment, which is clean, more spacious than a hotel room, and—best of all—has a charming balcony with a gorgeous nighttime view!
We end up hanging out on that balcony, reviewing our plans for the next day. After dark, we take the monorail just a short walk away to enjoy our first evening on a rooftop at the 34th floor: Hélipad (Raja Chulan station—you have to enter the Menara Tower at the base of the station) with a panoramic view of the city and its iconic towers.
Finally, we head to Jalan Alor to grab a bite in this super busy street.
Big sleep ahead! 😴
After a pretty disastrous weather-wise trip to Gran Canaria, we’re hoping this time the sun will shine in Puglia.
It’s not a sure thing, though—the weather’s been awful all over Europe in early May.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16:
This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us.
The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!!
The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that Italian cars don’t have turn signals 😮... except for rental cars).
About an hour later, we arrive at our first accommodation, right in the middle of the countryside near Monopoli.
The owner isn’t there, but they’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch.
We explore the property:
And the next morning before breakfast, its immediate surroundings:
Sunday, May 17:
After our "seaside" experience in Gran Canaria last weekend (packed with people and locals), we decide to start inland.
After a hearty breakfast,
we head toward Alberobello, a super touristy village famous for its trulli—those stone houses with conical roofs.
We easily find a free parking spot on a street near the Aia Piccola district, where some trulli are still lived in year-round.
We almost immediately come across the Trullo Sovrano (the only two-story one), which you can visit (but we skip it—it’s opening time, and there’s already a line).
From there, we head down toward the Basilica of Cosma e Damiano... but we don’t go in because there’s a mass.
Now we’re on the main Piazza del Popolo, which connects the two districts of Alberobello: Rione Aia Piccola and Rione Monti, the more touristy one.
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
Here’s a little story about my first trip to Japan with my partner.
We went for our first visit from October 29 to November 13, 2024.
I had planned this entire trip back in November 2020, but given the health situation at the time, I had to cancel...
Here’s the classic route we took:
We booked everything ourselves and got a regional pass for the area from Kyoto to Hiroshima.
The hotels were reserved 3 months in advance on Book... and Agod... (1030 € for 2 people for 13 nights = 80 €/night).
For the flight, we chose a Qatar Airways flight with a layover to break up the long journey (950 € per person).
We also got a pass on the same site (Japan-Experience) to take the train connecting Narita Airport to Shibuya Station (the N'EX Narita Express).
Since the airport is 75 km from central Tokyo, we opted for this mode of transport, even though there are cheaper alternatives.
After reading various posts on VoyageForum, I understood how important it was to have a Welcome Suica card to pay for public transport (subway, tram, bus, boat throughout the country), and we were able to buy one at Narita Airport.
It turned out to be super useful!
After a long but smooth journey, we found ourselves at Narita Airport in the evening.
Even though we had a pass for the Narita Express, we had to go to a counter to make a reservation for the train (mandatory).
Then, once we arrived at Shibuya Station, we took the subway for 2 stops and finally reached our hotel, exhausted (Hotel Asia Center of Japan – 270 € for 3 nights with breakfast included).
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:
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.
We went to Albania in August 2025.
Our itinerary included adventure (sporty activities, site visits), naps on the beach interspersed with swims, incredible natural sites, and a bit of culture.
I booked all our accommodations on Booking.com. Note: almost all places ask to be paid in cash!! You can obviously withdraw from banks, but the fees are pretty high. Luckily, we had plenty of cash, and the country is very safe. You can pay in euros most of the time, which avoids exchange fees.
We started in Tirana. I’d read a really interesting post about Albania’s bunkers (link in my profile). We chose to visit Bunk’Art with a guide from the agency that wrote the post. It was fascinating—not only to better understand the country’s history but also because her grandfather was repressed by the regime, and she shared her family’s experience with us.
Bunkers are everywhere! In Tirana, Bunk’Art is the most interesting and largest. You’ll see the dictator Enver Hoxha’s office, where he would’ve taken refuge in case of an attack on the country. Bring a sweater—it’s really cold in the underground tunnels and their huge corridors.
You can visit other bunkers around the country, in Tirana and elsewhere. Almost all are just abandoned.
The cable car up Mount Dajti is right next to Bunk’Art. The view is stunning—you realize Tirana is so close to the mountains and the sea... But otherwise, it’s not that exciting for older teens (17 and 19) and their parents.
We picked up a rental car in Tirana—it’d be ours for the next three weeks. We used Goalbania’s agency to avoid any hassles. First, there aren’t many cars available in Albania in summer. Second, French credit cards can be a nightmare abroad. So we preferred to sort that out in advance.
After Tirana, we headed to Permet. Just a heads-up: the roads are in great condition except in the mountains. And Albanian drivers aren’t stressful to deal with. Though you might suddenly encounter a herd of goats crossing the road—haha—but if you’re not going too fast, it’s fine.
In Permet, I’d been dreaming of rafting on the Vjosa, one of Europe’s last wild rivers. And we did it with a local agency! It’s beautiful, accessible to everyone, not too physical but still a bit lively—just how we like it. You can even jump into the river in some spots.
In Permet, we also hiked through a canyon and visited a lovely little church.
And we took a workshop to make their local culinary pride: gliko. It’s a jam with whole fruits inside. We’d seen it on Goalbania’s site, and it was really fun. We were with a family where the secret to making gliko has been passed down for generations...
Next, we headed to Gjirokastër. A city we loved: its old traditional houses (Skendulli and Zekate), its grand castle, the Ali Pasha Bridge. Along the way, we stopped for artisanal ice cream at a little shop run by a grandmother who’s been making it herself for ages.
One afternoon, my husband *had* to go to the coast in the south, to Ksamil (he’d read it was better than Sarandë). Verdict: we didn’t like it. Parking is a nightmare, the beaches are super noisy and crowded. The sea is packed with jet skis, boats, pedalos, and ropes. Avoid it.
On the other hand, we really liked Himarë, where we went next. We stayed at a campsite where we rented tents with mattresses and sheets inside. Right by the sea, on a low cliff (about 2 meters high). You can hear the waves at night... Magical!! To swim, you either jump straight into the sea (almost from the tent) or climb down a ladder, which you’ll need to climb back up to get out.
I was a little worried the campsite wouldn’t be very comfortable, so afterward, I’d booked a small place in Gjilek. Turns out, the place was really tiny (one room for four, no kitchen) and pretty expensive (over 100 € a night). We’d drive to the beach or restaurants—it’s on a steep slope, so not very accessible. Parking near the sea is tricky. But the (private) beaches were nice—we’d rent an umbrella not too close to the music and spend the day there. We also went to a wilder beach, harder to reach, via a long path. Behind the beach, there’s an amazing canyon where we’d sometimes climb using ropes (already in place, no need to bring your own) over big boulders rolled around by the stream, which must swell a lot in spring.
So, the sea in Albania: it’s nice if you like swimming and relaxing, but it’s not the most interesting part of the country. There are so many other amazing things to see and discover—so many stunning sites! Maybe an agency could’ve helped us find more practical accommodations and avoid Ksamil and its surroundings.
We left the coast to head to the beautiful city of Berat and its "thousand windows." We explored the city, its fortress, and its icon museum.
Then we discovered the Osum Canyon—it’s incredible. The view from the top is breathtaking. And at the bottom, it’s magical. There’s little water in summer, so rafting isn’t an option. We weren’t tempted by the big-tube descent offered by an agency—it looked fun, but the group had 40 people. We preferred hiking on our own as a family of four. We scouted the area on Google Maps... and found where to descend. We walked in the water, then it rose to our waists, then our shoulders... We weren’t moving fast. And how to get back up?? Eventually, we followed a group with a guide—the path was hard to find.
After that unforgettable hike, we visited the Bogovë Waterfalls. It’s pretty, and we swam, but the water was *really* cold.
We passed through Tirana again and then headed to Shkodër. We explored a bit—its charming little streets, the Rozafa Fortress. There’s a tiny museum where you can see *huge* Ottoman stone cannonballs. And they tell you the (charming) story of the young woman who was walled alive in the castle’s foundations to ensure its strength...
Shkodër is mostly a stopover to head into the mountains and discover Theth. Our goal: hiking in the Valbona Valley, from Valbona to Theth. We organized the trip ourselves, without an agency, but it took some time to figure everything out. So I’ll save you the trouble—haha. Book your tickets on the Komanilakeferry website. The ticket includes:
🙂 minibus transfer from downtown Shkodër to Koman
🙂 ferry ticket from Koman to Fierze. This ferry ride is *gorgeous*—between mountain slopes covered in pine trees, and sometimes a little house with a few fields...
🙂 minibus ticket from Fierze to Valbona. Now you’re in the mountains! The minibus drops you off near your accommodation—pick one as close as possible to the start of the hike (if that’s your goal!). The ones at the far end of the village add up to 1.5 hours of walking. Our choice: Guesthouse Dioni. The host is really lovely, it’s in the woods, and it’s basic but great.
After a day of hiking, we arrived in Theth. What beautiful mountains! Then we explored Theth and the surrounding area. It’s pretty busy, but you can still enjoy the Blue Eye of Theth and its swim. It’s *so* cold! But so beautiful!
🙂 minibus ticket from Theth back to Shkodër.
After a night in Shkodër, we drove to Kepi i Rodonit. A guidebook (I forget which one) raved about its beauty. And it *is* beautiful!
But the view is ruined by plastic bottles and other trash in the bushes, along the paths, and of course on the beaches. The only peaceful spot: the private beach at Kepi i Rodonit, which is cleaned. You can rent an umbrella and have lunch there. That’s where we spent our last few days—very relaxing.
In short... Albania turned out to be perfect for us and our teens!
I’m diving into a recap of our loop—pretty classic, really—Denver-Yellowstone-Denver this past summer, from July 24 to August 17. Given the sheer number of trip reports already out there (or in the works), and since I don’t have the writing chops or the photography skills of many of you, I’ll keep it practical—well, I’ll try, at least—to share our take on some of the less-visited parks and spots.
First off, a huge thank you to everyone whose trip reports, blogs, websites, comments, and more helped us put together this itinerary. Looking back, it could’ve been even better optimized: a few disappointments when we missed out on some great discoveries, often because we were short on time. Plenty of reasons to come back to the area!
We’re traveling with our four (almost) teens—18, 16, 14, and nearly 12 years old. To keep the trip enjoyable for everyone, we had to make compromises on both sides: cutting a visit short to spend more time swimming, waking up at dawn, and so on. But logistics also played a big role—things like laundry, grocery shopping, and keeping luggage organized could’ve quickly become time-consuming without a little planning.
And honestly, I think we visited every Walmart along the way! Blame it on the lack of fridges in some accommodations and, more importantly, the *very* limited space in the car, which made it impossible to bring a proper cooler. I’ll come back to the car saga later.
For accommodations, this year we alternated between basic cabins in KOA campgrounds and Yellowstone (when staying more than one night in the same place) and hotels. Always with a pool (except in Yellowstone, of course), which let the kids burn off energy—because they always have reserves, even after packed days!—and, let’s be honest, gave us a chance to relax. No Wi-Fi issues either; we all had plans with 25 GB of data (a big thanks to Gilles for the amazing deal at 0.99 €). It worked perfectly, even for texts and calls between phones—no extra charges.
Now, onto our route: as I mentioned, a classic Denver-Yellowstone-Denver loop. To avoid rushing through the parks or spending all our time on the road, we prioritized staying as close to them as possible, with at least two nights in each place. And I’ve got to say, it’s really nice to settle in, even if it’s just for two nights. It also helped us deal with the weather, which wasn’t always great during this trip. The trade-off? With vacation time being limited, some driving days ended up being long. We knew that going in, but since we kept a relaxed pace with no time constraints (don’t ask me for timings—I don’t keep track of the clock on vacation, except in the morning to get everyone up before noon!), we sometimes ended up with marathon days.
With that said, I’ll dive into the trip itself in the next post.
We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?
And we still haven’t seen everything!
Before setting off for new horizons at the end of this year, it’s time for me to share my trip to Cape Verde this summer 2025.
I particularly love these spontaneous trips, and our stay in Cape Verde is one of those because it was only at the beginning of April that we decided on this getaway, which had been catching our eye for a while, given our love for the mountains.
As always—well, when it’s open—I turned to VF, and I want to immediately thank Marie, aka ptitortue, who helped me a lot in planning this trip through her travel journals and our exchanges!
Because Cape Verde is both small and vast! We decided not to rush from one airport to another, to enjoy the places and the people, but also to relax, since the work backlog from being stuck in May (see my previous travel journal 😅) had to be caught up on in June.
So, 4 islands will be our winners from 06/28 to 07/19:
Santiago first for logistical reasons, as round-trip flights from the capital Praia were the cheapest (650 €/person from Lyon via Lisbon with TAP, still!)
São Vicente, because it’s the gateway to the next one but ultimately more than that...
Santo Antão, pretty much the main goal of the trip since Marie (and the photos) had really sold it to me.
And finally, Sal Island, for some rest—a non-negotiable condition for my other half—and we’ll see that I should’ve listened to Marie...
That said, what a chatterbox I am—buckle up, flight attendants at the doors, off we go on new beautiful escapes! (Thanks to Sophie for the easy loan)
Last note for my eager fan club 😏: yes, there will be alcohol—how could there not be in the land of grogue!
Hello,
Since I enjoy not only the countryside but also everything related to rail travel, I’m starting this photo thread dedicated to trains in Thailand (I’d guess most of us have taken one at some point...).
Feel free to post your pictures here as long as they fit the theme: rolling stock**, stations**, platforms, tracks (even without a train on them), technical equipment, engineering structures (bridges, viaducts), etc.—all in Thailand.
For each photo, I’ll (or you can) note the station or line where it was taken.
Comments and questions are welcome.
As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I inherited my love of travel from my parents and some of my grandparents. A strong passion, but one that was unfortunately limited by our family’s modest resources. Back then, living in northern Alsace, a simple trip to the southern part of the region—with the Wine Route as our destination—felt like an extraordinary journey to a land of plenty for the little boy I was in the late 60s and early 70s.
Everything seemed so huge when you were still just a kid.
Back then, I was overwhelmed by countless sensations—I was already highly sensitive, with a keen mind and a nose and taste buds that were developing like a pro’s. Which, as I’d later realize, wasn’t always an advantage.
Those magical days always began with a gentle late-spring or midsummer morning. The interior of the white Peugeot 404, license plate 210 LZ 67, had already soaked up the sun before the engine purred to life, and the cabin gave off a scent I could still recognize today—a fragrance I found so pleasant. Back then, I had no idea it was just the smell of warm plastic from the car’s interior.
Yes, the scents of the 404 on sunny days became my madeleine de Proust...
What’s more, the whole family was unusually cheerful because those moments of relaxation and leisure were rare. Everyone worked, and no one had an easy job or was well paid. Without the *Trente Glorieuses*, these experiences might never have happened.
Once we crossed the canton’s borders, I felt like I was light-years away from my everyday surroundings, and every kilometer plunged me deeper into *terra incognita*. It was thrilling. Far from my so-called "medium-sized" town, wheat fields, cornfields, and cabbage patches stretched out, punctuated by tall poles connected by long wires and topped with vegetation—like giant clotheslines without laundry, where magical beanstalks might grow to touch the sky. Back then, I was still far from tasting their product, which was simply beer. At the time, there was still a significant local hop production. Fun fact: it wasn’t until 2002 that Anglo-Saxon scientists proved hops and cannabis belong to the same biological family.
After the fields, the landscape took another step up as it rolled past the little boy’s eyes, often glued to the windows. First came modest hills, then a succession of rolling slopes that soon formed an unbroken chain. Their 700 meters in altitude felt like Himalayan peaks to me—impressive, inert giants, a whole new world. Gazing at them, an intense emotion welled up somewhere between my stomach and lungs, nearly taking my breath away. What mysteries, what treasures did these heights hold?
And then there were the cherries on top—the crowning touch that made the scene even more magical: proud, majestic castles perched on the summits like impassive sentinels. Monuments from the past, yet firmly rooted in the present on their rocky spurs.
The little boy’s eyes sparkled—he’d been given a castle for Christmas, complete with battlements, towers, a drawbridge, and fully armed knights. He’d watched and lived *Ivanhoe* on the only French TV channel that existed back then.
Only once did my paternal grandfather join us on one of these trips. A tall, intelligent man with a face that could shift from stern to mischievous, clearly full of humor and charisma. Sadly, his relationship with alcohol had taken a toll on his life and, by extension, those of his loved ones. He had a strong personality—if his boss crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch him, which meant he went through a lot of different jobs. Back then, you could quit one job and easily find another. It was quite something to see him in his final stages, hallucinating pink elephants and even drinking perfume when he had nothing else left. The last time I saw him, he’d slipped away from the doctors and nurses while hospitalized in pretty bad shape—at least, I assume his liver was the issue. We were sitting down for a family lunch when the door burst open, and there he stood in his pajamas, eyes twinkling with mischief, clearly pleased with the dramatic entrance. That theatrical moment didn’t spare us from burying him a few months later at the age of 71. One day, my mother told me the family doctor had quietly remarked that it was a shame—with his robust constitution, he could’ve lived to be a hundred. Yes, the family doctor—this was the man who’d come treat you any day, at almost any hour, just for a phone call. It really existed, it’s not a myth!
That day, his wife—my paternal grandmother—was also along for the ride. Everyone agreed that Jeannette was a good woman. She worked as a waitress at *Le Tigre*, the biggest brasserie in town, right in the center. Most customers preferred to be served by her, including local dignitaries and even the mayor. As a kid, I didn’t find her very fun, open, or warm—she seemed a bit stern. Back then, women in their fifties already had the face and build of grandmothers. Same went for men, don’t get me wrong. I had no idea about the struggles she faced because of her husband. I didn’t know that 30 years earlier, she’d had to flee Alsace while pregnant, under threat from Nazi fighter-bombers. I didn’t know she’d had several miscarriages, and that my father—her only surviving child, born prematurely in March 1940 at the other end of France—weighed less than a kilo at birth and was so tiny he could fit in a shoebox. Hard to imagine he’d grow into a strapping man nearly 1.80 meters tall, tipping the scales at 100 kilos.
When you come back from summer camp in early August and ask why she didn’t pick you up with your parents, and they gently tell you she’s "in heaven," you don’t realize she passed away at 54 after suffering greatly from stomach cancer that had spread.
Back to that family outing, that enchanted parenthesis. I even remembered where we’d had lunch when I passed through Dambach-la-Ville decades later. One of those charming, flower-filled towns Alsace produces in abundance—and preserves so well. This one sits high on a hill, and I was a bit stunned on the parking lot because the view stretched far, revealing the Alsace plain below—its fields, villages, hills, and forests. The world seemed so vast and enticing that day, even though I was only glimpsing a tiny fraction of it.
The region was already very touristy, but I wouldn’t notice the downsides until much later. That Sunday noon, I discovered a large restaurant filled with diners. I can still see the enormous piece of meat they served me, decorated with a little wooden skewer topped with a flag. I kept that one for a long time. Those were the golden days of rich, flowing, thick sauces—so flavorful—and the era of the world’s best fries, made on the spot with the best potatoes. To top it off, I was *exceptionally* allowed a small bottle of apple juice, Orangina, or—even better if possible—Sinalco. Yes, Sinalco—like Orangina, but better. A brand that must’ve disappeared in the 70s, but why, and what a shame! Since then, Orangina’s little bubbles have taken the brand to the other side of the planet—it’s now Japanese.
Year after year, I’d eagerly await that ecstatic moment when the most beautiful castle in Alsace, the Haut-Koenigsbourg, appeared in my field of vision. The perfect model, the archetype that blended into the landscape at the height of a child’s dreams.
The trip home always felt like a reality check—less jarring than an alarm clock, but more diffuse and melancholic. From then on, there was only one wish: *When do we leave again?*
Hi there,
Here’s a recap of a trek through the Balkans covering three countries: Albania, Montenegro, and Kosovo. I was with a friend, and we didn’t do the full route (only one day in Kosovo).
It was a wonderful trek through snow-capped mountains and vast flower-filled meadows, meeting incredibly welcoming people.
At the end of the travel journal, I’ll share what I loved and what I liked less.
Day 1: Flight from Paris-Beauvais to Tirana with Wizz Air.
Since Albania isn’t part of Europe when it comes to phone service (at least not yet! :-)), we had to buy a physical SIM card—otherwise, the bill would’ve been sky-high if we’d used our French plan! We got one from Vodafone AL at the airport. You can buy online before leaving with a virtual SIM (e-SIM) for compatible phones, so you don’t have to swap cards. But given the uncertainty about choosing a plan online, we preferred buying one directly at Tirana Airport. Cost: 31 € for 100 GB. That’s way too much—100 GB is overkill. For 40 GB, it’s 27 €, and the plan lasts 21 days. The price difference isn’t huge, and it was cheaper than online. This plan covers all the countries along the Balkan range.
Money tip: All guesthouses and accommodations accept euros. The local currency in Albania is the LEK. In Montenegro, it’s the euro. Bank fees for withdrawing money from an ATM in Albania are pretty steep: 8 € for a withdrawal of 600–700 LEK (about 200 €)! So it’s better to withdraw cash (euros) in France. Oh, and we booked all our accommodations before leaving, but payment is always in cash. Budget around 400–500 € for 9 days of trekking.
Then, a transfer the same day to Shköder, about a 2-hour bus ride. Cost: 10 € per person. Tickets bought directly on the bus. We spent the night in Shköder at a very clean guesthouse, Open Doors B&B. It had a small balcony overlooking the city.
I really liked Shköder, especially its pedestrian street lined with restaurants and lit up at night. It’s a great place to stroll and eat. The food isn’t expensive—two big salads and two beers: 14 € :-) . Fruit prices are also very reasonable: 3 € for a kilo of cherries, compared to 9–10 € in France.
Religions coexist peacefully in these countries—Catholics and Muslims. From our balcony, my friend heard the call to prayer for the first time, coming from one of the city’s mosques.
Day 2: Bus ride to Theth, about 1,100 meters in elevation gain, the starting point for our hike the next day.
The trip took 2 hours and 40 minutes with a break in the middle. The bus was affordable, but taxis also make the trip—though they’re very expensive.
We slept in the heights of Theth at a new guesthouse, "Mountain Vista Shkafi," with an amazing view.
The family was adorable. The husband is a handyman and built almost everything himself. Their baby is named "Sky"—such a cute name, right? :-) Throughout the trek, I found the guesthouses very clean, and the hosts think of everything—no need to bring soap or shampoo; they provide it.
Lunch in Theth at a traditional restaurant on the main road. We tried "Tave Dheu," an Albanian dish with beef, cabbage (very common), and cottage cheese. Delicious but not quite filling enough. For dessert, a honey cake that was perfectly moist—such a treat! Desserts like this are rare; sometimes they serve watermelon instead.
We took a small private bus for 5 € to the "Blue Eye" parking lot, then walked for about 45 minutes to reach a stunning natural site—a kind of lagoon with incredibly blue water. The bravest can swim, but the water’s freezing!
That evening, we dined at "La Montagne Blanche"—excellent! A delightful mix of grilled meats with potatoes and grilled peppers. Some watermelon slices (which I’m not a fan of) and the famous Raki, a brandy served in Turkey and the Balkans! It was my first time drinking brandy "bottoms up." 😉
I’d like to share my family trip to Colombia with kids aged 8. After spending hours browsing the forum and only having two weeks there, we decided to focus on two regions: the Coffee Zone for one week and the Caribbean coast for another. We traveled from August 8 to 23.
Day 1 – First stop: Bogotá
We arrived in Bogotá in the evening on an Air France flight—nothing to complain about, decent service, comfortable, and on time. However, the first night was a miss. We’d booked a hotel near the airport (Abitel Prime) for convenience, but the soundproofing was almost nonexistent; we heard planes as if we were on the runway. Luckily, exhaustion helped us sleep well anyway.
Day 2 – Off to the Coffee Zone and Salento
The next morning, we headed to the airport for a domestic flight to Pereira with LATAM. No issues: punctual and efficient, and in 30 minutes, we landed in Pereira. The landing already set a different mood: lush valleys, endless plantations, and humid air.
We picked up our rental car from Localiza. Unfortunately, the experience wasn’t smooth—the paperwork took forever, and the wait tested our patience. Finally free, we hit the road to Salento, one of Quindío’s gems.
We arrived in the late afternoon and discovered a colorful village bustling with artisan shops and cafés. Our first stroll helped us soak in the atmosphere before dinner at Bambú restaurant—a great surprise with careful cooking and local flavors. We spent the night at Casa Serafín, a charming little hotel, nicely decorated and well-located… but unfortunately very noisy.
Day 3 – The magic of Cocora Valley
This was one of the trip’s highlights. We set off early for Cocora Valley, famous for its giant wax palms, Colombia’s emblem. We chose the 12 km loop recommended by the *Routard*. The landscapes were spectacular: towering palms, rivers, suspension bridges. It felt like walking through a postcard. The weather was perfect.
That evening, we dined at Barnabé restaurant—pleasant setting, decent food, but the bill was a bit steep for what it was. Back to Casa Serafín.
Day 4 – Coffee and panoramic views
The plan was a visit to Finca El Ocaso. For 1.5 hours, we followed a passionate guide who explained the entire coffee process, from harvest to cup. Very educational, accessible for both kids and adults, all in a stunning setting. The tour was in English for us, and we translated for our kids, who aren’t bilingual yet.
In the afternoon, we climbed to Salento’s viewpoint. The valley view was superb. That evening, we ate at Veggie Garden, a simple and pleasant spot that was a nice change from the heavier meals of previous days.
Day 5 – Horseback ride to Santa Rita Waterfall
We booked a horseback ride with Cocora Magic. It was a real success: calm horses, a beautiful trail, mountain and meadow landscapes, and finally the refreshing and wild Santa Rita Waterfall. Without a doubt, one of the best moments of our time in the region. We even got a bonus ride up a 300-meter hill.
We then headed to Filandia, less known than Salento but just as charming. We spent the late afternoon enjoying the pool at MuchoSur Filandia. The hotel is beautiful, in an idyllic setting. However, we also had soundproofing issues and could hear our neighbors.
Day 6 – Rainy detour through Filandia and Manizales
Rain caught up with us in the early morning: torrents of water made it impossible to go out. We stayed at the hotel, reading quietly. By noon, the rain let up: a quick walk in Filandia, a quick lunch, then off to Manizales. We chose to stay at El Otoño hot springs. Great choice: as soon as we arrived, we plunged into the hot pools, perfect after hours on the road.
Day 7 – Hiking and hot springs
In the morning, we hiked the Camino de Super Coco (found somewhat randomly on Google). A pleasant trail with mountain views and a peaceful atmosphere. The afternoon was spent in the hotel’s thermal pools, with a short marked hike down to the river. Dinner on-site at the hot springs’ restaurant. A simple but very relaxing day.
Day 8 – Rain, jacuzzi, and games
We continued to Finca Los Alpes. The rain greeted us again, but this time it turned into an asset: nothing like a steaming jacuzzi with a view of the misty mountains. The kids enjoyed the facilities too: mini-golf, ping-pong, billiards. Dinner and night at the hotel, cozy vibes.
Day 9 – Off to the Caribbean coast
Back to the airport to return the car (still a bit long). Flight to Cartagena with Avianca: punctual and comfortable. Upon arrival, we picked up another car and headed straight to the Hyatt Regency, a modern hotel with a pool. That evening, we dined at the hotel—practical after a travel day.
Day 10 – Colonial Cartagena
We set off to explore Cartagena’s old town. It was enchanting: colorful facades, flowered balconies, colonial charm—just magical. However, the heat was stifling and very humid. Afternoon relaxation by the pool. Dinner at Gestlani, a good restaurant in town.
Day 11 – Road to Barú
A hearty breakfast, then one last swim in the pool before heading to Barú. We checked into Las Islas Hotel. The setting was enchanting: wooden cabins nestled in the vegetation, a private beach, turquoise sea, impeccable service. Dinner at the hotel’s restaurant.
Day 12 – Beach and relaxation
A full beach day in Barú. Warm water, white sand, coconut trees, peace and quiet. A real postcard scene with iguanas and birds.
Day 13 – On to Santa Marta
Another morning at the beach before hitting the road to Santa Marta. The drive was a bit long (6 hours), especially with traffic jams in Barranquilla. It was the longest car ride of the trip. We spent the night at Villa María Tayrona, a beautiful place near the park.
Day 14 – Tayrona Park
We left early for Tayrona Park. We entered through **El Zaino**, parked the car, and set off on a hike to La Piscina (about 2 hours). We stopped along the way at Playa Arenilla, a stunning little beach, to rest. Lunch on-site, a swim, then back by 4 PM. The hike was a bit tiring, but the nature was spectacular: dense jungle, the sound of waves, and even a monkey encounter along the way. Evening and dinner at the hotel.
Day 15 – Last swim and return flight to Bogotá
Our last morning was split between the pool and the beach (the hotel has direct access via a 7-minute trail through vegetation and flowers)—hard to leave this paradise. We drove to Santa Marta’s airport to return the car, then flew back to Bogotá. We spent the night at Casa Dann Carlton, a comfortable hotel. We simply ordered room service, arriving too late to go out.
Day 16 – Bogotá and the end of the trip
Our last day in Colombia. After a good breakfast, we explored La Candelaria. Its cobbled streets and colorful houses were worth the visit. We visited the Botero Museum (free) and the Gold Museum, both fascinating. Back to the airport for our 11:55 PM Air France flight.
That’s a wrap on a varied trip—lush mountains, colorful villages, dream beaches, and tropical jungle.
The pace was pretty relaxed, well-suited for our kids. They absolutely loved the trip to Colombia.
Driving in Colombia was very easy, and we didn’t regret renting a car at all—it gave us more freedom to get around.
If I were to do it again, here’s what I’d change:
- I’d spend less time in the Coffee Zone to stay a bit longer on the Caribbean coast, which was more relaxing for the kids. Or I’d head to Medellín, but I didn’t think the city was very kid-friendly.
- Bogotá is a city that deserves a day’s visit, but it’s not a must-see. Maybe I’d have taken the KLM flight from Cartagena to Amsterdam instead.
Since I didn’t have time to write a proper travel journal, I thought I’d share a few photos of Bologna—a really lovely city I discovered in 2017 while stopping on my way to Tuscany.
Around Piazza Maggiore, which was packed with a stage and chairs for a show, stands the Basilica of San Petronio, massive and Gothic in style, with an unfinished façade (a common sight in Italy).
Another building near the square:
But Bologna’s real charm lies in its porticoes, which were added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2021: 62 km of arcades running along buildings, letting you walk sheltered from the sun or rain. Back in 1288, the city required houses to include private arcades for public use. In the city center, you can stroll under 32 km of porticoes in all sorts of styles—some plain, some ornate—with a strong presence of red tones.
Okay, it wasn’t a total disaster either. Actually, I hesitated before starting this travel journal: is it even worth writing about a holiday that won’t leave an unforgettable memory?
In the end, I went for it (there aren’t many recent travel journals about this destination).
So, read on... or don’t .
Every time we’ve been to the Canary Islands, it’s been by default (basically: where can we go in winter or early spring when we only have a week—so not too far, not too much jet lag, but with decent weather?).
This time, we had two weeks, but the winter plan kept changing: first Thailand (dropped for personal reasons), then Martinique (dropped because of work leave dates that weren’t up to me), and finally, the Canary Islands.
We’ve already been to Tenerife (which we really liked) and Lanzarote (which we liked a little less).
This year, two options: Gran Canaria or one of the smaller islands west of Tenerife (La Palma, or even La Gomera or El Hierro).
We chose Gran Canaria... not sure it was the right call!
Whose fault is it?
Storm Thérèse’s!
Yes, Storm Thérèse followed us on arrival, and its effects lasted quite a while. We had to adapt, cancel visits, change activities...
But even without Thérèse...
Saturday 21/03
Departure from Orly at 6:10 AM with Transavia.
The plane took off on time and landed a little early, tossed around by strong winds before touching down.
It had just rained, but it was (almost) no longer raining.
We quickly picked up our luggage and then the car at the Cicar counter.
We got a Seat Arona instead of the Corsa we’d booked. Well, while the driving position didn’t feel great at first (I got used to it), the engine’s smoothness and power were much appreciated on the island’s winding and sometimes steep roads.
It was only 10 AM, and we couldn’t theoretically check into our accommodation until 3 PM (the owner promised to message me if it was ready earlier).
So, we headed to the (big) *Jardín Botánico Viera y Clavijo*, where we planned to spend a few hours.
We found a huge parking lot... empty.
The passenger in the car in front of us (yes, we weren’t the only ones at the closed gate—there was a car in front and one behind) went to ask for info: it was closed due to the storm 😕.
So, we calmly headed toward Puerto de las Nieves, on the northwest coast of the island.
The plan: go to a restaurant, visit the village, and do some shopping while waiting for early afternoon.
As soon as we got out of the car, it started raining... we took shelter under the awning of a shop, waiting for it to pass. But the rain turned into a downpour, and within minutes, awning or not, Gore-Tex or not, we were soaked!
Since we were already wet, we might as well go to the restaurant—they weren’t far! But here’s the thing: contrary to what Google Maps said, they all opened at 1 PM, not noon!
Back to the car, wading through 5 cm of water because all the village streets were flooded .
The rain let up, we did some shopping, went to eat, and I got a message from the owner saying the accommodation was ready 🙂.
So, off we went to La Suerte, a few kilometers north of Agaete.
The downside of the place, especially with luggage, is that you have to climb several flights of stairs via an outdoor staircase (after parking more or less far away on a steep street) to get there 😛).
Of course, on the way from the car to the apartment, it started pouring again—the bags got soaked!
Enough rain for today! We settled in quietly, and by late afternoon, we could (finally!) go admire the view from the terrace.
Trip Planning
My partner and I are heading to the Canary Islands for a week at the end of September, specifically to Lanzarote. We chose this island over the more crowded ones for its volcanic landscape and the variety of hikes it offers.
I booked everything through Expedia: our hotel stay, car rental, and Ryanair flight tickets departing from Marseille. It was the only way to get a direct flight. To make getting around easier during our stay, I picked a hotel located in the center of the island from the wide selection available. It’s part of the Barceló chain, specifically the "Barceló Teguise Beach Adults Only" in Teguise Beach, which turned out to be an excellent choice.
The Trip
Sunday, September 21 - Monday, September 22
Departure
It’s 2:15 PM, and we’re at the Avignon TGV station. Danielle picked us up earlier due to the weather—thunderstorms and heavy rain all the way to the station. The TGV was on time, and it only took 30 minutes to reach Marseille Saint-Charles. The shuttle to the airport is quick and convenient, right behind the station.
The bus leaves for the airport in the middle of the storm, with flooded roads and cars stuck in some spots.
We get soaked making our way to the terminal. Two hours to wait before the flight. The plane finally takes off at midnight, but just before landing, the pilot announces that the destination airport is closed, and we’re being diverted to Tenerife. Ryanair will re-route us as soon as possible.
We end up waiting 2 hours, and Ryanair kindly gives us a 4 € voucher.
We re-board around 5:15 AM and take off at 6:00 AM. About 45 minutes to reach Lanzarote. After collecting our luggage, we head to the car rental desk. The counter in the terminal is closed, and we’re directed to parking lot P4—it takes us a while to find it.
I’m a bit worried about the rental company’s reaction since the car was supposed to be picked up 7 hours earlier, but it’s not a problem. A woman next to us is furious because she’s in the same situation, and her rental was canceled. Anne-Marie translates for her, but nothing changes.
We pick up a brand-new Toyota Aigo and head to the hotel.
After checking in, we cross the garden, walking alongside the large pool to reach our room.
A lovely first-floor room with a jacuzzi and a sea view.
It’s early, so we head to breakfast—a generously stocked and varied buffet with everything you could want.
Afterward, we drive to Cueva de los Verdes, but it’s packed with people and a long wait. We decide to come back another day.
Next, we visit Mirador Del Rio. This rocky viewpoint at the edge of the island has breathtaking cliffs plunging 500 meters into the ocean. The view is stunning and impressive.
A panoramic bar lets you cool off while enjoying the scenery.
We return to the hotel for a short walk around the neighborhood and enjoy the beautiful pool with its pleasant water temperature. Relaxing by the pool, sun loungers, and all.
In the evening, a very varied buffet at the restaurant. Then early to bed to recover from the sleepless night before.
Tuesday, September 23
After a restful night, we enjoy another varied and hearty breakfast. The terrace seating is very pleasant. We take an inland road leading to Timanfaya National Park.
The road near the park runs alongside vineyards where the vines are surrounded by lava stone walls to protect them from the prevailing winds.
Our first stop is at the visitor center, where the island’s volcanic activity is well-documented. Next, we stop at an area where you can take a short camel ride—two seats are installed on either side of the camel’s hump. This little ride offers a great view of the volcanic landscape from a higher vantage point. A fair price of 11 € per seat for a 20-minute ride.
We then head to the park entrance via the road leading to the parking lot, where only authorized buses can take the winding route inside the park.
It’s crowded, and we wait about 45 minutes with several stops before reaching the parking lot.
We board the bus, and the route offers beautiful views of this volcanic area and its many craters. The journey is very interesting, with several stops for photos.
At the parking lot, a guide shows us how the heat from the rocks beneath the surface can ignite dry vegetation. Water poured into holes in the ground immediately creates geysers and jets of steam.
The building next to the parking lot has a restaurant where meat is cooked using the heat from a well dug into the volcanic rock.
On our way back, we drive to Playa Blanca, a seaside town with a small sandy beach.
Back at the hotel in the late afternoon for dinner.
Wednesday, September 24
We wake up early and have a quick breakfast—few people are around at this hour. Two days ago, we booked a 10:00 AM visit to Los Verdes, lava tunnels created by eruptions and lava flows from the La Corona volcano, which extended all the way to the coast.
When the lava came into contact with the air, it solidified on the surface while continuing to flow underneath. The lava tunnels stretch for 8 kilometers to the volcano, but we only walk one kilometer.
The inside of the tunnel is impressive, with narrow passages and larger chambers.
You can see traces left by the flowing liquid lava—varied colors and twisted shapes.
At the end of the path, a large chamber has been turned into a concert hall with perfect acoustics.
Next, we visit Jameo Del Agua.
This is a continuation of the lava tunnel, developed by Manrique.
There are beautifully designed bar and restaurant areas, as well as an underground lake where you can see small blind white crabs—a protected species in this very pure water.
Higher up, there’s a lovely space with a central pool that could double as a swimming area, surrounded by beautifully designed white pathways that contrast with the blue water.
Further on, you reach a large space inside the lava tunnel, set up as a performance hall with perfect acoustics.
Stairs let you view this beautiful space from above. A gap in the lava landscape reveals the ocean on the horizon.
We head back toward the village of Yé, at the foot of the La Corona volcano.
A 160-meter walk from the church, a path crosses vineyard plots and then climbs to the top of the volcano’s crater in about 30 minutes. It’s the island’s highest volcano.
When you reach the edge of the crater, you see how deep it is, with steep slopes inside forming a large circular opening. The place is breathtaking and awe-inspiring.
We drive back to the hotel via a road that climbs quickly, offering a beautiful view of the island’s northern part.
Thursday, September 25
After another enjoyable and varied breakfast, we head to the center of the island toward the volcano park and stop at a roadside parking lot where a path leads to the Montana Cuervo volcano.
This is a crater that opened on one side. During an eruption, an explosion created a breach in the crater.
Huge blocks of rock were thrown dozens of meters away. The path goes through the breach and descends into the crater, allowing you to walk around it. It’s impressive, and you really feel small and fragile in this environment.
The crater walls, with their different colors, highlight the rock formations. The crater is surrounded by a sea of lava with sharp, jagged rocks.
You can walk around the outside of the crater, but it’s not very interesting. We then head to the west coast, stopping at a spot with a small green lake next to a beautiful black sand beach.
Next, we stop at Salinas de Janubio, a lovely viewpoint overlooking the salt marshes with different water colors. A small shop sells various local products.
We then head to the famous Papagayo beach.
The road ends at a booth where they charge 3 € to continue.
From here, the land is private, and you have to pay to drive down a 3-kilometer rocky dirt road.
Quite a few cars are driving along it, kicking up clouds of dust. The car gets a dusty makeover.
We arrive at a large parking area, with several paths leading to different small beaches.
We go to Papagayo, a small blonde sand beach surrounded by red rocks.
The beach slopes gently into the water, which is a pleasant temperature. The setting is charming and peaceful.
We stay for a while before heading back to the hotel.
Friday, September 26
We start with a visit to the César Manrique Foundation in Tahiche. This was originally one of his homes. The modern construction spans several levels and is integrated into the lava flow, using the gaps to create living spaces. Large windows make the rooms bright and open to the scenery. The place is pleasant, with flower-filled gardens outside. It’s well worth a visit.
Next, we drive to Las Grietas, where a path leads to a narrow crack in the volcanic rock, forming a tight passage where only one person can walk at a time.
The passage isn’t very long, but progress is slow due to the endless selfies being taken here.
We then stop at Casa Del Camposino, a renovated farm that houses several artisan shops.
We taste a local wine recommended by a charming woman and buy two bottles of Lanzarote red wine on her advice.
Now, we head to Tamara beach, a beautiful and wide beach at the foot of high cliffs. There are always great waves here, making it a surfer’s paradise.
On the way back to the hotel, we stop at the cactus garden, César Manrique’s final creation. Designed with a great sense of aesthetics around an old windmill, it features 4,500 varieties of cacti in various shapes, all in a beautiful setting.
We return to the hotel in the late afternoon for the evening.
Saturday, September 27
After another hearty breakfast, we head north to Haria. We stumble upon another of César Manrique’s homes, where he lived for a long time. This house is more traditional than the previous one but still has large, modern, and very pleasant rooms. At the back of the garden is his large studio, where he created his works.
Next, we visit the craft market—this was our original plan. Various stalls offer local items, and it’s very crowded. No room at the café terraces to sit down.
We then return to Famara beach for a long stay. There are always great waves here, much to the surfers’ delight. The water temperature is pleasant, and we enjoy it.
On the way back to the hotel, we stop at a gas station to refill the car, which has been very fuel-efficient. Gas is also much cheaper here than in France—1.16 € per liter of SP95.
We also wash the car, which was very dusty after the long dirt road to Papagayo beach.
At the hotel, we enjoy a farewell cocktail before dinner.
Sunday, September 28
We spend the morning by the hotel pool before checking out at noon. For lunch, we go to a restaurant called "Dona Lola," near the hotel, with a terrace offering a view of the coast. We order tuna carpaccio, which is delicious.
We then head to the airport, just 15 minutes away.
We return the rental car and go to the airport.
A long line to check in our luggage.
The return flight is on time.
A shuttle bus takes us to Saint-Charles station.
We then head to our overnight rental. The boulevard slopes down, making it easier with the suitcases.
The rental is between the old port and the train station.
Once there, we pick up the keys and make one last effort to carry the luggage up to the third floor.
The studio is nice, clean, and simply equipped—perfect for one night.
I’m a newbie to this forum, passionate about wildlife, the landscapes of East Africa, and Tanzania in particular.
This June 2024 trip/safari is our 7th visit to Tanzania and our 5th in the south, which has drawn us more than the north ever since we discovered it in 2015.
In 2024, the entrance fees for the reserves and services have gone up again since our last visit.
I chose to return first to Mikumi Reserve, which was the very first one we visited in the south. Then, we’ll head to Selous (J. Nyerere N. P.) as usual.
Initially, we wanted to spend 2/3 days on Mafia Island at the end of the trip, but it made the total cost too high, so we gave up...
We usually go to Ruaha and Selous, but I wanted to mix it up a bit—also to save some money...
As for the timing, June is a new experience for us. I thought it might be interesting to come just after the lodges reopen... hoping for some great wildlife encounters??
The trip starts in Marseille with our first flight on Ethiopian Airlines to Addis Ababa, then continues to Dar es Salaam, where we’ll finally set foot on Tanzanian soil again.
In Addis... "our" A-350.
.....
After arriving in Dar, we spent one night at a hotel near the airport. The next morning, we headed to the domestic flights terminal, which hasn’t changed in years.
By mid-morning, we boarded a Cessna 208B Caravan with Safari Air Link, heading to the Kikoboga bush airstrip in Mikumi, which we reached 45 minutes later.
Fun fact: the pilot was the same one as on our return flight two years ago.
Welcome on board:
Of course, a driver/guide team from our chosen lodge was waiting for us upon arrival:
I was surprised to see so many aircraft parked there... even twin-engine Embraer Brasilias??
As a fan of vintage planes, I loved it...
On the other hand, the light was incredibly harsh.....!!
Our guides only speak English. We knew that in advance. In the south, it’s very rare to find someone who speaks French. This’ll force us to dig into our high school English memories... from 60 years ago... at least.
It’s noon, and we head toward the lodge.
Near the airstrip, next to the Mikumi rangers’ base, there are quite a few herbivores. They find a bit more peace here—the big cats don’t venture this way...
Our first encounter was a group of Masai giraffes.
Rarer (for us), a savanna monitor lizard basking in the sun right in the middle of the track...??
A large gathering of impalas (mostly males) along with a few blue wildebeest:
Also unusual: a African crowned hornbill taking a dust bath in the middle of the track...!!
When it comes to identifying mammals or birds, I don’t know everything... so I might make mistakes. Please forgive me.
I’m counting on my friend Blesl’s active participation... 😉