We did the Langtang trek (hike) from September 10th to 17th, with the first and last days being the trip from Kathmandu and back—so 6 days of actual walking. It’s a fairly well-known trek but certainly not as famous or crowded as those in the Annapurna or Everest regions, which is why we chose it.
In theory, it’s mandatory to have a guide for this trek. In reality, it seems there are ways to bypass the regulations: we met at least two people hiking without a guide—a South Korean, a New Zealander, and possibly also a couple of English women and an American couple, though we’re not sure if they had a guide.
The agency we booked with had told us it was an affordable trek for relatively older people in good shape—which is our case (I’m 72 myself). I have to say upfront that we found it quite challenging, maybe because we didn’t have good weather—it was the end of the monsoon season. To be clear, no matter your fitness level, I’d say doing this trek in the middle of the monsoon season would be suicidal.
Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi
On Monday, September 8th, there had been violent protests in Kathmandu against the government, which had, among other things, blocked access to social media and been accused of nepotism and corruption. There were 19 deaths. The situation was very tense on the day of our departure, Wednesday the 10th. The agency warned us that public transport was very unreliable. So, we decided to take a jeep, at an additional cost of $100 ($160 minus what was already budgeted for the bus).
We left a little before 7 a.m. and it took us a good hour just to reach the outskirts of Kathmandu. Along the way, we saw several houses and vehicles set on fire by protesters.
The road to Syapru Besi is only 120 km, but it’s frankly awful. It’s always narrow, winds through endless mountains, and the shoulders range from bad to confusing to nonexistent. Several sections are just dirt tracks. We didn’t regret opting for the jeep, as we could stop several times at our convenience—if only to let Y (my Thai partner) throw up everything she had. She’d taken her usual motion sickness medication, but the constant turns, accelerations, and braking eventually made her terribly carsick.
In Nuwakot, we stopped for breakfast at a nice little restaurant, Jimbu. It was around 8:30 a.m., and we’d barely covered 60 km. The restaurant has a lovely garden overlooking the Trishuli Ganga, the river flowing down from Syapru Besi. First photo: the river in the bottom right corner, mist and clouds over the mountain on the other side.
An hour later, my second photo: the hills along the Trishuli Ganga. You can see the different crops—lush green rice paddies in the lower right and corn, already yellowed and likely harvested, in the foreground on the left. And of course, the mist and clouds through which you can glimpse the mountain on the other side of the river.
You had an amazing experience. However, I think your agency really overcharged you because the Langtang isn’t the most accessible massif—it’s actually quite challenging. Even though the Langtang Valley is the most accessible part, especially at the end of the monsoon season, it can still rain a lot, particularly on the section with frequent landslides between Syabru Besi and Bamboo.
On another note, I think your post got cut off because you only shared Day 1, and based on how you write, I’m guessing you planned to post your experience day by day! 🙂
You had a great experience. However, I think your agency went too far calling the Langtang trek "accessible"—it’s not the easiest range to reach. In fact, it’s quite challenging, even though the Langtang Valley is the most accessible part. Especially at the end of monsoon season, it can rain a lot, particularly on the section with frequent landslides between Syabru Besi and Bamboo.
I also think your post got cut off because you only shared Day 1, and based on how you write, I’m guessing you planned to post your experience day by day. 🙂
Hi Terry,
Thanks for reposting my thread so quickly! You’re right—I’ll be sharing my story in chunks, so more to come soon!
I completely agree—calling the Langtang trek "accessible" isn’t accurate. Many describe the Langtang Valley as "remote" (in English), meaning isolated/difficult to access, and that matches our experience.
To be honest, this isn’t an easy trek. Less than half the people I know would’ve made it!
Yeah, some people call the region "accessible" because it’s often chosen as an alternative to the more touristy areas (Sagarmatha & Annapurna) and because it’s relatively easy to reach by road since it’s close to Kathmandu (less than a day’s travel). Even though the journey isn’t that short, especially with this year’s monsoon causing serious damage in the region and on the roads...
I agree with you—many people aren’t physically prepared for it, which is why it’s one of the areas with the most issues related to acute mountain sickness, proportionally to the number of visitors. The distances are short, you gain altitude quickly, and those who need more time to acclimatize can find themselves in trouble. In short, it’s a stunning area but definitely shouldn’t be underestimated! 🙂
We did the Langtang trek (hike) from September 10th to 17th, with the first and last days being the trip from Kathmandu and back—so 6 days of actual walking. It’s a fairly well-known trek but definitely not as famous or crowded as those in Annapurna or Everest, which is why we chose it.
What a crazy idea to do that during monsoon season! Didn’t you have any other choice?
If you were going to get soaked anyway, you should’ve picked August to go from Syabru Besi to the sacred Gosainkund lakes during the Hindu pilgrimage!
The road to Syapru Besi is only 120 km, but it’s absolutely terrible. It’s always narrow, winds through endless mountains, and the shoulders range from bad to confusing to nonexistent. Several sections are just dirt tracks, etc. We didn’t regret opting for the jeep, since we could stop whenever we wanted—if only to let Y (my Thai girlfriend) throw up everything she could. She’d taken her usual motion sickness meds, but the constant turns, accelerations, and braking eventually gave her awful car sickness.
Well, I see that not much has changed in 20 or 30 years when it comes to "road" improvements.
That must’ve been no fun for your girlfriend! You should’ve gone to Langtang via Helambu—it’s not much harder except for the Laurebina Pass, and the starting point is only 30 or 40 km from KTM (Sundarijal).
The Langtang Valley must’ve undergone quite a few changes since the 2015 earthquake, which completely destroyed the village of Langtang. Back in the '80s, there was also a massive landslide before Langtang village—the spot is actually labeled "landslide" on trekking maps...
Is the cheese factory still open at Kyangjin Gompa?
When I was younger, I would’ve recommended doing the return trip via the Ganja La (5,200m)—2 or 3 days without seeing a soul and mandatory camping...
Regarding AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness), I don’t quite agree—we don’t go above 3600 or 3800 at most at Kyangin Gompa, and the ascent is gradual. On the Sagarmatha route (toward Everest Base Camp), you land at 2800 m in Lukla, and on the very first day, you pass 3600 m at Namche Bazaar! I had a bit of a headache there.
Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi (Continued)
Around 11 a.m., bumping along and shaken like proverbial sacks of potatoes in the jeep—which is sturdy, sure, but far from comfortable—we arrive at the checkpoint for entering Langtang National Park, just before Dhunche Bazar, about twenty kilometers from Syapru Besi. There had been one or two checks earlier, I think when crossing from one district to another, but those were just a matter of minutes while our guide registered our passage.
This time, it takes a bit longer. Maybe half an hour? The first photo is of a large sign showing the park map. As someone who loves maps, I’m in heaven—this one is excellent! The location map (top left) shows the region borders China (actually Tibet). "Shyaphrubesi" = Syapru Besi, the trek’s starting point, is in the middle left, at the park’s western edge.
The second photo is a close-up of the trek. The place names are confusing. Our first stop will be at Lama Hotel, which is between Rimche and Ghodatabela (according to the sign), and more precisely at the bend of the Langtang River, where its course changes direction (from west/east to southwest/northeast). The third stop will be at Kyanjing Gompa, just below the red "Langtang" on the map, at the mouth of a glacier descending north/south from Langtang Lirung. Langtang Lirung is the highest point, at 7,227 meters, in a range that runs along the Tibet border.
As for the second stop, at Langtang, it’s between the two. According to the map I got in Kathmandu, it’s probably around Ghodatabela (in red).
The third photo: the sign showing park entry fees. For foreigners, it’s 3,000 rupees per person, or about 18-20 € or 21-22 $. I’m giving approximate prices, of course—exchange rates change pretty quickly!
We stop around noon at Dhunche Bazar, or is it already Thulo Bharkhu? We’re made to wait a good hour in a restaurant, well past the time we needed for a light meal. We gather there’s a blockage farther up the road, and we have to wait for police clearance to continue. This gives us a chance to meet a group of 5 or 6 Israelis who are also doing the trek. I didn’t recognize them as Israelis at first because they were behaving discreetly and speaking quietly.
Finally, we get the green light from the police, which ends a great discussion I was having with one of the Israelis about our origins and respective dialects (to clarify: I’m not Jewish).
And we arrive at the massive landslide blocking the road. The only road, clinging to the mountainside right above the raging Trishuli Ganga, which flows a good 200 meters below... My fourth photo: Y and our guide H, and just at the foot of the landslide, our porter S. Just look at the size of the rocks that tumbled down and completely cut off the road! (Terry mentioned landslides—he’ll be happy!). On the left of the photo, the smooth concrete reinforcement of the road—from there, you’d fall straight into the river! (Fifth photo).
We can only continue on foot, clambering as best we can over the landslide (sixth photo). Okay, I like giving my readers chills: it’s not just the rocks, of all sizes in a terrible jumble, some ready to give way underfoot! There’s also a narrow but furious stream trying to force its way through, pushing the rubble along, and we have to cross that too.
Once we reach the other side, thankfully, we only have 2 kilometers left to walk to Syapru Besi, without any other incidents on the road. The landslide will mark the actual starting point of our trek!
I’ll leave the story with this last photo, taken on the bridge crossing the Trishuli Ganga at the village entrance. It’s 2:30 p.m. It took us about 7 and a half hours to cover the whole distance from Kathmandu.
We did the Langtang trek (hike) from September 10th to 17th, with the first and last days being the trip from Kathmandu and back—so 6 days of actual walking. It’s a fairly well-known trek but definitely not as famous or crowded as those in the Annapurna or Everest regions, which is why we chose it.
What made you decide to do this during monsoon season?! Didn’t you have any other options?
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The Langtang Valley has undergone quite a few changes since the 2015 earthquake, which completely destroyed the village of Langtang. Back in the 80s, there was also a major landslide before Langtang village; the spot is actually labeled "landslide" on trekking maps...
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Hi Jean-Michel,
Mid-September is right at the end of the monsoon. We could’ve been luckier with the weather....
Yes, the damage from the 2015 earthquake was huge in Langtang itself (and I’ll come back to that later). But you hardly see any traces of it in the buildings now. There’s been so much reconstruction since. It’s also very visible in Kathmandu, Patan, and Bhaktapur, where we went. I was a bit worried I’d be disappointed, but the reconstruction effort has been remarkable!
For AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness), I don’t quite agree—we don’t go above 3600 or 3800 at most at Kyangin Gompa, and the ascent is gradual... On the Everest route (toward base camp), you land at 2800 m in Lukla, and on the very first day, you pass 3600 m at Namche Bazaar! I had a bit of a headache there.
The Everest area is a special case, in my opinion, because there are a lot of evacuations, partly due to a lucrative business selling fast, cheap itineraries to clients without respecting acclimatization time. This allows agencies to call in helicopters for their clients and make money off insurance—or, in the saddest cases, off the clients themselves if they don’t have insurance. For those arriving by plane, people land in Lukla, but only a minority head straight to Namche on the first day because those who do without being acclimatized aren’t really following safety principles. The vast majority spend the first night in Phakding, Tok Tok, or Monjo—between 2600 and 2900 m—then move on to Namche at around 3450 m (depending on where you sleep in Namche), so the elevation gain is less drastic.
For Langtang, my point was more about the region in general, especially with Gosainkunda, which sees a lot of issues (whether you come from Dhunche or Helambu). Even in the valley, some people struggle because between Lama Hotel and Langtang Village, there’s a 1000 m elevation gain (2480 m vs 3450 m), and many people have a hard time managing that transition. Of course, plenty of trekkers have no issues at all. The same goes for Panch Pokhari (transition from Tupi Danda to Nosyampati) and Tamang Heritage (the night at Nagthali). The Langtang region is very rugged and steep, with fewer intermediate stops than other areas. That’s just my professional perspective based on feedback from clients and fellow guides. I totally get that your experience might be different, and some people will relate more to what you’re saying!)
Mid-September marks the end of the monsoon. We could’ve been luckier with the weather....
Not really. It’s not recommended to set off before early October, and mid-October is preferable since you often still get lingering monsoon weather in the first half of October. In November, it’s chillier, but the skies are much clearer.
Personally, I went in March... 24 days of trekking: Starting from Sundarijal, 30 km from KTM / crossing Helambu / Laurebina Pass / Gosainkund Lakes / Syabru Besi / heading west toward Gatlang / Tamang Heritage Trail / Langtang Valley Kyangin Gompa / ascent of Tsergo Ri / crossing Ganja La (5,200m) and recrossing Helambu toward Tharkegyang and Sermathang. That was in 2010—I was 15 years younger! Back then, we set off without a guide since it wasn’t mandatory, and we carried our own packs, plus a tent and supplies for 3 nights of bivouacking. 4 days without seeing a soul via Ganja La...
I found a teammate whose wife is Nepali (Tamang) here on VF. We visited all her scattered family from Thulo Syabru to Timure... One of my best trekking memories!
Anyway, kudos for what you’ve done. I couldn’t do it again today.
Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi (Continued and Concluded)
After arriving in Syapru Besi on foot, we’re given a room in one of the guesthouses (GH) by the river. It’s a large room but pretty basic. I take advantage of the last bits of lukewarm water in the bathroom to shower. I mention this because hot showers will be hit-or-miss from here on out!
The "restaurant" only has two tables, which makes it easy to meet other travelers. Across from me, an Australian couple from Melbourne. We strike up a great conversation about Australia and Europe. I speak English fluently, but I’ll admit their accent throws me off a bit—even though I *should* be used to Australians after living in their country for 3 years!
Back to the weather in the "late monsoon" season—a topic Jean-Michel/Djalma and I already covered quite a bit. We only had a few drops of rain on the way from KTM, but a steadier rain starts falling during the night... Nothing major compared to the downpours I’m used to in tropical countries (especially in Asia and particularly Thailand). Let’s hope, let’s hope.....
I’m excited to dive into your travel journal .. 🙂
Oh no, this trek isn’t a walk in the park. I still feel the long climb to Laurebina in my legs!
It’s rated as less difficult than others because the altitude generally doesn’t exceed 4,000m. There’s the climb up to Kyanjin Ri, around 4,700m if I remember right (gorgeous view, by the way), but overall, the altitude is lower than in other parts of Nepal. That said, like many treks in Nepal, the hiking can still be tough and discouraging. A mix of steep ascents and descents—those infamous "Nepali flat" sections...
And when the rain joins the party, it can turn into a nightmare on trails covered in mud and mule/yak droppings...
As for the weather, September is definitely not recommended, and it’s not uncommon for monsoon tails to linger until mid-October. Things have been changing lately. A few years ago, we had amazing weather in March, but last year, we had to cut our Khumbu trek short because of constant bad weather (damp cold, rain, snow, mud, zero visibility...).
November has generally given us the best weather. That month is usually ideal for Nepal—except this year, of course...😇
I see a lot of feedback and opinions about September. I’d like to mention that August and September are truly extraordinary for trekking. Sure, it’s not the classic trails where views might be blocked, but more cultural treks off the beaten path—where when the views clear, it’s a gift because you weren’t even expecting it. The far west with regions like Darchula, Bajhang, and Simikot; the west with Dhorpatan/Rukum-Rolpa/Dolpo; and Annapurna with Nar Phu. These are fantastic times to go because everything is absolutely green—it’s just stunning to see. I know for many the goal is really to have clear views, but I’m dropping this little note to open the door to other discovery possibilities that, far from the classic Sagarmatha/Annapurna/Manaslu/Langtang routes, deserve to be explored despite the access difficulties or unpredictable weather :)
Generally, from mid-August in recent years, the rain is limited to about an hour in the afternoon. Of course, some days it rains more, but if you’re patient, there are amazing experiences to be had during this time of year when very few people dare to explore the hills and mountains. For those familiar with Nepal, I can only recommend it. For first-time visitors to Nepal, it might be a bit too rugged and challenging in these mentioned regions.
Also, I agree with Anne-Claire—the climate change is shifting the seasons, but November remains a safe bet for exceptional skies :)
I’m really looking forward to joining your travel journal .. 🙂
Oh no, this trek isn’t a walk in the park. I still feel the long climb to Laurebina in my legs!
It’s rated as less difficult than others because the altitude generally doesn’t exceed 4,000m. There’s the climb to Kyanjin Ri, around 4,700m if I remember right (gorgeous view, by the way), but overall, the altitude is lower than in other parts of Nepal. That said, like many treks in Nepal, the walking can still be tough and discouraging. A constant mix of uphill and downhill—those infamous "Nepali flat" sections...
And when the rain joins the party, it can turn into a nightmare on trails covered in mud and mule and yak droppings...
As for the weather, September is definitely not recommended, and it’s not uncommon for monsoon tails to linger until mid-October. Things have been changing lately. A few years ago, we had great weather in March, but last year, we had to cut our trek in the Khumbu short because of constant bad weather (cold, damp, rain, snow, mud, zero visibility...).
November has generally given us the best weather. That month is usually ideal for Nepal. Except this year, of course...😇
Hi Anne-Claire!
Ah yes, the infamous "Nepali flat"! We’ve experienced it firsthand! Endless ups and downs on steps made of rough, uneven stones—often slippery—and animal droppings everywhere! You really have to watch where you step; every move has to be calculated because twisting an ankle or taking a fall far from "civilization" would be a disaster!
Often, a day’s walk to cover just ten kilometers (as the crow flies) ends up feeling like more exercise than hours in a gym!
For the best times of year, we’ve taken note: September is a no-go for us in the future. The downside of "peak season" is that it gets way more crowded.
Day 2 – Syapru Besi to Lama Hotel – Rivers and Hinduism
Thursday, September 11th, 6:20 AM, first photo: view of Syapru Besi from our room. Simple breakfast and we hit the road around 7:30 AM. From the bridge spanning the Trishuli Ganga at the village exit, we see the confluence with the Langtang River coming from the east (on the right in the second photo). The Trishuli flows straight down from the Tibetan border, which it crossed 15 km north of Syapru Besi.
I wanted to learn more about the Trishuli Ganga. The term Trishuli is obviously linked to the Hindu god Shiva. "Tri" means three: it refers to the trident he carries. Over half of its basin lies in Tibet. It joins the Gandaki at Devghat, 1 km north of Bharatpur (between Pokhara and Kathmandu).
The Gandaki originates north of the Annapurna massif. Its full name is Kali Gandaki. Though one might associate it with the Hindu god Shiva (Kali/Durga being his shakti), the Kali Gandaki is actually linked to the god Vishnu. In fact, another name for it is Krishna Gandaki, Krishna being one of Vishnu’s two main incarnations (the other being Rama). Finally, the river is also called Narayani up to the Indian border, which inevitably brings to mind Vishnu, also known as Narayan.
The confluence at Devghat is a particularly sacred site for Hindus. "Dev" means "God" and "Ghat" roughly means "riverbank." Since the Krishna Gandaki comes from the west and the Trishuli from the east, their meeting represents the union of Hinduism’s two main gods.
The Gandaki joins the Ganges at Patna, in Bihar.
Before wrapping up, I can’t help but recall that in Hindu mythology, the Ganges flows from the head of Shiva, his hair representing the various rivers descending from the Himalayas. In the Hindu imagination, Shiva receives the river from the goddess Ganga, or the Ganges simply springs from his head. The depiction of rivers flowing from Shiva’s head symbolizes the Ganges, held back by Shiva to control its destructive force and gently guide it to Earth.
I know I might be boring some of you with all this "Hindu salad," but I don’t see travel as just going from A to B, having fun, or marveling at the exotic and unknown while taking pretty photos. I also want to understand—or at least try to understand—the people, their history, language, and culture, etc.
I know I can be a bit much for some with all my digressions. I’ll admit, I take a bit of mischievous pleasure in it!
You could sum up everything I’ve said about rivers and Hinduism in a few simple words:
For Hindus, rivers aren’t just rivers. They’re also divine manifestations.
Back to Nepal! We crossed the bridge and saw the entrance to the Langtang Valley ahead of us (1st photo). The first 2 km are a fairly wide track right beside the Langtang River (brrrr!!!), used by the large vehicles serving the construction of a hydroelectric dam. You can see this track clearly in my 2nd photo (on the left, you can even make out one of those big vehicles way in the back). As I mentioned, we’re walking alongside a river that would intimidate even the bravest. I couldn’t post a short video here to give you an idea—what a shame. So I’ll just have to say: I’d challenge the best swimmers to take a dip and come out alive!
The track ends at the dam under construction. Just past 9 a.m., we head into the forest. We quickly reach a tea house but don’t stop, though I couldn’t resist taking a photo (the 3rd one) of a magnificent cannabis plant about 3 meters tall. The photo, taken from above, only shows the top of the plant. Is it natural or cultivated? I have no idea. I rub a few leaves between my hands—it’s got a pleasantly bitter taste, not all that different from any other green plant.
It’s nearly noon when we arrive at the spot called Bamboo (4th photo). We have our lunch there—nothing remarkable, if I remember correctly. Just a little farther, we reach a suspension bridge over the river and cross to the north bank. It’s almost 2 p.m. The 5th photo: the river upstream from the bridge—just look at that chaotic fury!
The bridge deserves a 6th photo. Note the poncho Y tied around her waist—since this morning, we’ve had a light but steady drizzle. It’s not too bad; our guide H doesn’t even bother covering up. Further back, a couple of hikers are heading back “toward civilization”—yes, we’re not the only ones crazy enough to do this trek at the end of monsoon season!
We still have 2 km to go to reach today’s destination, Lama Hotel. But first, just after the bridge, we pass a tiny cluster of houses and a tea house before arriving at one of the scariest spots of the entire trek: a landslide where the already tough path completely disappears. To get across, we cling to the remains of a twisted steel cable sticking out of the rubble like an arrow that’s pierced someone, pulling ourselves up 3 meters. You can’t let go—the ground underfoot is loose and slick from the rain, and there’d be nothing to stop you from plunging into the roaring Langtang just 10 meters below! 🏴☠️ Then we face the heart of the landslide. There are only a few meters to cross before reaching slightly more reassuring ground (very relatively), but it’s honestly intimidating. You can barely make out the trace of a path—if you can even call it that—just a foot or two wide, marked in the mud by those who’ve gone before. Y goes first, closely watched by H and S (our guide and porter). Y’s really brave—it’s her first trek, she’s struggling a bit but doesn’t complain. I’ll also say she’s more agile than most her age, and since she’s Thai, I’ll go ahead and say she’s as flexible as a Siamese cat... 😉
My turn, and like an idiot, I try to cross a meter lower—I insist, the “path” was more than subtle, which is why I didn’t follow it exactly. And I start to slip...... 🏴☠️ H tries to grab my hand, but I’d rather cling to a big rock jutting out of the landslide—luckily, it holds. I reach out to S on the other side, who helps pull me up to the “path.” I can’t say I was two inches from joining the fish in the Langtang—no fish could live in those currents—but it was close enough!
We arrive exhausted at Lama Hotel. They give us a spartan but adequate room. At least it’s clean, and I’ll add that nowhere in Langtang did we have to deal with critters in the bedding. The toilets and showers are shared. We skip the shower, though.
In the common room of our guesthouse, guests hang their soaked clothes above a wood stove. Y carefully checks her clothes after an unfortunate encounter with the local leeches, the “djouka.” I spot one trying to sneak into her shoe through a lace eyelet. I just manage to grab it by the tail—a tiny, all-black, not-at-all-appetizing thing. It reminds me of a miniature version of the alien from that well-known sci-fi/horror movie.
I meet a couple of Polish hikers heading back to Syapru Besi. Charming and really interesting people. We’re not the only ones doing this trek at the end of the rainy season!
A little note: I mention the people we meet not because it’s particularly relevant to the trek itself, but to preserve the memory through VF (I sometimes reread my posts).
I know I can be a pain for some, with all my digressions. I’ll admit I get a kick out of it!
Why a pain? Not at all—quite the opposite! When you travel, you’re usually interested in the locals’ culture, and I really love your travel journals for that reason. I absolutely loved the one about Mexico.
We arrive exhausted at Lama Hotel.
I remember that lodge well...
She takes great care examining her clothes, having unfortunately made the acquaintance of the local leeches, the “djouka.” I see one trying to slip into one of her shoes through a lace eyelet. I just manage to grab it by the tail.
Oh, that’s horrifying! You’ve confirmed my decision to keep going to Nepal in November. No doubt the green landscapes in summer and early autumn are stunning, but if you’re making such an effort, you might as well enjoy the exceptional views of the peaks—it’s usually clear and dry (but cold 🤪) during that time.
I know I can be a bit much for some people, with all my digressions. I’ll admit I take a bit of mischievous pleasure in it!
Why a bit much? Not at all—quite the opposite! When you travel, you’re usually interested in the locals’ culture, and I really love your travel journals for that reason. I absolutely loved the one about Mexico.
Oh yeah, I remember seeing you in my Mexico journal, just before COVID. I went back there with Y last year: Yucatán (expensive, too crowded, too hot); the area around Guadalajara and Colima (less crowded, amazing). I also went back once with my son to introduce him to this incredible country, and another time on my own. Now that Y has gotten some hiking experience, I’m planning a month between Mexico City (CDMX) and Michoacán, with climbs up two volcanoes (one dormant, one extinct). I’ll have to check about leeches! 😉
I know I can be a pain for some with all my digressions. I’ll admit I take a bit of mischievous pleasure in it!
We can sum up everything I’ve said about rivers and Hinduism in a few simple words:
For Hindus, rivers aren’t just rivers. They’re also divine manifestations.
Personally, that’s partly why I follow your "travel journal." Traveling isn’t just about taking beautiful photos—it’s about trying to understand a bit of the culture of the country you’re visiting.
Since you mentioned Hinduism, I wanted to add a few cultural insights about the people of Langtang.
This Langtang Valley where you did your trek, along with the Rasuwa district north of Syabru Besi up to the Tibetan border and to the west (Gatlang) the southern slopes of Ganesh Himal, are regions inhabited by Tamangs. A rather poor ethnic group.
The Tamangs ("horse traders" in Tibetan) are one of the largest minority ethnic groups in Nepal, alongside the Sherpas. Unlike the Indo-Nepalese ethnic groups, who are mostly Hindu and speak "Indo-European" languages (Brahmins, Chhetris), the Tamangs originate from Tibet and still speak (in addition to Nepali) Tamang, a Tibeto-Burman language. They are mostly Lamaist Buddhists. They have always been considered by the high Indo-Nepalese castes (Brahmins, Chhetris, etc.) as an inferior caste and have therefore been employed for physically demanding jobs such as rickshaw drivers but especially (like the Sherpas) as porters (transporting food supplies). Physically robust, many were also recruited as mercenaries by the British (Gurkha battalions).
Just a few years ago in the Ganesh Himal region, there were still typical Tamang houses with beautifully carved balconies and roofs made entirely of wood. Now, like almost everywhere in Nepal, you only see roofs covered with corrugated iron!
It’s too bad you didn’t do the "Tamang Heritage Trail" trek (no harder than the one you did), which passes through Gatlang (west of Syabru Besi). The village still seems timeless, and the Tamangs there, like those in some parts of Ganesh Himal, still wear their traditional costumes every day...
I know I can be a pain for some with all my digressions. I’ll admit I take a bit of mischievous pleasure in it!
We can sum up everything I’ve said about rivers and Hinduism in a few simple words:
For Hindus, rivers aren’t just rivers. They’re also divine manifestations.
For my part, that’s partly why I follow your "travel journal." Travel isn’t just about taking beautiful photos—it’s about trying to understand a bit of the culture of the country you’re visiting.
Since you mentioned Hinduism, I wanted to add some cultural insights about the people of Langtang.
This Langtang Valley where you did your trek, along with the Rasuwa district north of Syabru Besi up to the Tibetan border and to the west (Gatlang), the southern slopes of the Ganesh Himal are regions inhabited by Tamangs. A rather poor ethnic group.
The Tamang ("horse traders" in Tibetan) are one of the largest minority ethnic groups in Nepal, along with the Sherpas. Unlike the Indo-Nepalese ethnic groups, who are mostly Hindu and speak "Indo-European" languages (Brahmins, Chhetris), the Tamangs originate from Tibet and still speak (in addition to Nepali) Tamang, a Tibeto-Burman language. They are mostly Lamaist Buddhists. They have always been considered by the high Indo-Nepalese castes (Brahmins, Chhetris, etc.) as a lower caste and have therefore been employed for physically demanding jobs such as rickshaw drivers but especially (like the Sherpas) as porters (transporting food supplies). Physically robust, many were also recruited as mercenaries by the British (Gurkha battalions).
A few years ago, in the Ganesh Himal region, there were still typical Tamang houses with beautifully carved balconies and roofs made entirely of wood. Now, like almost everywhere in Nepal, you only see roofs covered with corrugated iron!
Too bad you didn’t do the "Tamang Heritage Trail" trek (no harder than the one you did), which passes through Gatlang (west of Syabru Besi). The village still seems timeless, and the Tamangs there, like those in some parts of the Ganesh Himal, still wear their traditional costumes daily...
Thanks, Jean-Michel, for this information—it’s really appreciated. Indeed, as you get closer to Syapru Besi (coming from KTM), you start to see Tamangs, who are Tibetan. You notice them by the women wearing a typically Tibetan apron with those horizontal multicolored stripes... but they wear it at the back, unlike all the other Tibetan women I’ve seen so far!
I’m not familiar with the region, so I don’t easily tell the difference between Tamangs and other Nepalis based on their appearance (I’m talking about the men).
It was in Langtang, at the next stop after Lama Hotel, that I really realized we were in "Tibetan territory." The woman at our guesthouse wore that apron and was burning incense in the morning for the figures of various Taras and other bodhisattvas on the altar in a corner of the common room, all while murmuring Buddhist prayers in Tibetan (yes, I recognize that immediately—I practiced with the Nyingmas for two years a long time ago).
You mentioned another trek in the same region—I’ll keep it in mind for another time.
There are several treks in the Langtang region, including those that first cross Helambu (Sherpa country) and those that go to the sacred lakes of Gosainkund, among others.
There’s one that starts from Syabru Besi toward Gatlang in the west (instead of the east, like you did). It passes through Gatlang, a typical village, then heads north to Tato Pani ("hot water" in Nepali). Here, instead of a hot shower (a setup made for tourists ), there are outdoor hot baths fed by natural hot springs.
Then it continues to Briddim and Rasuwagadi, a border post with old fortifications.
Afterward, it descends back south... When I was there, the Chinese were building a road—or rather, a track—and local residents were already flooded with low-quality Chinese products like sweets, chips, and plastic-wrapped food, along with all the negative consequences: litter scattered everywhere in nature.
You then rejoin the Langtang Valley at Sherpa Gaon, around Lama Hotel if I remember correctly. The whole trek takes about 5 or 6 days, but it’s a loop, not an out-and-back.
PS: The Tamangs, like the Sherpas and Gurungs, aren’t really Tibetan—they migrated to Nepal several centuries ago. They’ve preserved some of their culture, a language close to Tibetan, and their Buddhist religion.
I forgot to share the altitudes: Syapru Besi = +/- 1,500 meters, Lama Hotel = 2,470 meters, and before I forget, today’s destination Langtang = 3,455 meters. That’s a 1,000-meter elevation gain per day, over straight-line distances of 10-12 km, covered in 5-6 hours of hiking. Let’s just say it’d be tough for a lot of people!
Last night, the couple from Melbourne we’d met in Syapru Besi was in the room next to ours. We could hear them talking. The walls were just thin wooden planks with gaps, letting in slivers of light. Luxury hotels aren’t exactly common (or existent) in this area! They were probably in the common room last night too, but we avoided them. Non solum I struggle to understand them, set etiam the guy never cracks a smile—we have no idea what his deal is…
Breakfast: honey-lime-ginger tea, porridge, and a crepe. None of the crepes we’ve had in Langtang actually deserve the name “crepe.” The local food is mediocre, just so you know! I made myself a thermos of cowboy coffee—that is, pouring hot water over ground coffee and calling it a day. I didn’t forget to pack coffee before flying to KTM, since I wasn’t sure I’d find good stuff there. Turns out Nepal has great coffee—I just didn’t know! My “thermos” isn’t really one, but I love sipping coffee on the trail, even when it’s cold.
Y put on tall socks, carefully pulling them over her pant legs. She also sprayed herself generously with one of her anti-mosquito remedies—she’s got several little bottles in her bag. They’re plant-based essences, easy to find in Thailand, and they work great. H rubbed salt on her feet to ward off the “djouka” attacks (1st photo). Y barely slept—she kept replaying a horror movie in her head all night, starring the “djouka”s!
Around 8 a.m., it was “zam zam!” = “let’s go!” My Nepali vocabulary is pretty limited—just “bistaré” = “slowly,” “dhanyavad” = “thank you,” and of course “djouka” = “leech.” That’s about it!
To keep it short, we arrived in Langtang, today’s destination, just before 6 p.m.—almost 10 hours later! Of course, we took breaks along the way. Once to drink tea on a terrace (the rain had stopped). We ran into our Israeli friends there, still cheerful and up for a chat. They’re young, fresh out of military service. I only remember one of their names, Johnny—a tall blond with blue eyes, Ukrainian heritage. What a genetic mix! Aside from one guy of Moroccan descent, they’re all Ashkenazi. Either way, they’re the friendliest Israelis I’ve ever met.
We also stopped to eat, though I don’t remember exactly where. I think we hiked a solid 8 hours, covering maybe 10-12 km? The trail was just as tough as the first day. Y is struggling—she hasn’t recovered from yesterday’s fatigue, which slows us down.
The landscape is lush and wild. 2nd photo (noon): waterfalls hundreds of meters high, their tops lost in the mist. On a plateau, we spotted a troop of gray langurs. These monkeys are often called “Hanuman’s monkeys” in India and Nepal because they’re said to have been part of the monkey army that helped Rama—an incarnation of Vishnu and king of Ayodhya—fight Ravana, the king of Sri Lanka who kidnapped his wife, Sita. The monkey general was the famous Hanuman. So even in the middle of nowhere, we get a dose of the Hindu epic *Ramayana*!
My 3rd photo isn’t great—I only had my phone, and it was from far away. I had to zoom in to center on the monkeys.
4th photo (3 p.m.): Y struggling on the trail. It’s just to show the path in a relatively easy section, right before Buddha Guesthouse, where she rests for a few minutes (5th photo). You can tell she’s exhausted… Check out the walking stick H made her from a bamboo stalk. He made one for me too, and trust me, it helps a ton!
Around 3:30 p.m., we reached another intimidating spot: crossing a raging stream (6th photo) . You have to jump from rock to rock, hoping not to slip. A fall would send you tumbling into chaotic rubble churned by violent waters. You’d get seriously hurt, and it’d be a whole ordeal to get rescued. 🏴☠️ Let’s be real—keeping your feet dry is impossible, and flip-flops are a no-go unless you’re Nepali!
4 p.m. – 7th photo: Y in the middle of another landslide. No stream this time!
4:20 p.m. – 8th photo: The Langtang River in the mist. We start to see Langtang (left side). 9th photo: A view of our trail.
5:45 p.m. – 10th and 11th photos: Arrival in Langtang at 3,455 meters.
I’ll come back later to talk about the 2015 earthquake and the devastation it caused in Langtang. Patience!
Along the way, we crossed paths with the only Frenchman on the whole trek—a guy from the Vosges region heading back down to Syapru Besi. Maybe he’s the one who told us he’d glimpsed the highest peaks of Kyanjing Ri when the clouds parted for a whopping 5 seconds!
We also met a cheerful South Korean guy heading down. At first, I thought he was Japanese. He didn’t take offense—just pointed to the Korean writing on his shirt, and I apologized for the mistake. Still smiling, he told me he was 69, then asked how old I was (72). His smile widened. He shook my hand warmly. No doubt, we were the oldest trekkers out here! As Corneille put it 😉 : “To a well-born soul, vigor defies the weight of years.” Just saying, our South Korean friend was spry and lean, and I’m not exactly out of shape either.
We “checked into” a guesthouse in Langtang that’s a *little* more comfortable than Lama Hotel’s. I took the only hot shower of the week. In the common room, we saw the Australians again but avoided them—they might’ve been avoiding us too! I already mentioned the owner earlier, with her apron worn in the back (yes, on her butt), and her Buddhist prayers at her altar with Tara statues and other bodhisattvas.
Breakfast: "honey-lime-ginger" tea, porridge, and a crepe. None of the crepes eaten in Langtang actually deserve the name "crepe," by the way. The local cuisine is mediocre—let’s just say it! I’m making myself a little thermos of coffee using the so-called "cowboy method," meaning I just pour hot water over ground coffee and that’s it! I didn’t forget to pack coffee before my flight to KTM; I wasn’t sure I’d find good coffee in KT.
You’re taking precautions, I see ;)
Local cuisine has improved a lot in variety (trekkers have become picky ;)) but not in quality. Before, we’d practically only eat dal bhat, and occasionally "fried rice with vegetables." For breakfast, it was chapatis at "Indo-Nepali" places and Tibetan bread and tsampa with Tibetan communities.
Did you try tsampa? The taste is unforgettable when the butter is really rancid!
As for drinks, I’d say everything’s gone downhill in Nepal! I’m more used to tea than coffee, and in the past, you could get real tea in Nepal. They grow it in the east near Ilam... Yet now, they only serve "tea" in bags that tastes like hay—except maybe in KTM hotels I don’t frequent. You can still find real tea in India, though. One super good thing for breakfast, but not available year-round, is dahi—the yak milk yogurt (the female yak, or "nak," doesn’t produce milk, of course).
These are monkeys often called "Hanuman’s monkeys" in India and Nepal because they’re said to have formed the monkey army that helped Rama, an incarnation of Vishnu and king of Ayodhya, fight against Ravana, the king of Sri Lanka who had kidnapped his wife Sita. The general of the monkeys was the famous Hanuman. So even in the middle of nowhere, we get echoes of the Hindu epic Ramayana!
These monkeys are protected in Nepal (national parks), like many animal species, and they thrive where there are fields (corn, millet, barley, etc.) and orchards, causing major damage to crops. And farmers are already so poor...
Maybe it was him who told us he’d managed to catch a glimpse of the highest peaks from Kyanjing Ri,
You must be mixing it up with Langtang Lirung (7,200m), which is clearly visible in good weather (not during monsoon ;)). Kyanjing Ri isn’t very high (everything’s relative), barely over 5,000m, maybe less, and it’s not very snowy. I climbed it in half a day from Kyanjing Gompa. The pass (Ganja La, 5,200m) facing north, which leads to Helambu, is much more challenging!
...Local cuisine has improved a lot in terms of diversity (trekkers have become picky😉) but not in quality. Before, we pretty much only ate Dal Bhat and occasionally "fried rice with vegetables," and for breakfast, chapatis at the "Indo-Nepalese" places and Tibetan bread and tsampa with the "Tibetan" folks.
Have you tried tsampa? A taste you don’t forget when the butter is nice and rancid!🤪
.....
One really good thing for breakfast, but you can’t find it certain months of the year, is dahi—the yogurt from a nak (female yak), which, of course, doesn’t produce milk itself.
There’s more variety these days, that’s true. The menus (still the same ones!) offer chow mein (a noodle dish), fried potatoes, etc. And also dishes with meat—I won’t go into details, since we stuck to vegetarian meals—safer for hygiene!
Never tried tsampa.
As for dahi, yeah, it’s always really good. "Dahi" = "yogurt" in Hindi, and as far as I know, it’s not only made with yak milk.
By the way, a lot of Nepali vocabulary is very similar to Hindi. They’re related languages...
...
You must be confusing it with Langtang Lirung (7,200m), which you can see clearly in good weather (not during the monsoon😉). Kyangin Ri isn’t very high (everything’s relative), barely over 5,000m, maybe less, and it’s not very snowy. I climbed it in half a day from Kyangjin Gompa. The pass (Ganja La, 5,200m), facing north, that leads back to Helambu is way more challenging!
I didn’t express myself clearly—I meant ".....catch a glimpse of the highest peaks, starting from Kyanjing Ri." It’s definitely Langtang Lirung, as you said!
I’ve never tried Indian dahi. The times I’ve seen it, it was sitting in the sun with a bunch of flies on it... but in Nepal, especially in the lower regions, it’s also made from buffalo milk.
In the Annapurnas, where you can also find honey, mixing dahi with a few chapatis makes for a decent breakfast.
Otherwise, it’s hard to put on weight anywhere in Nepal with the dhal bhat/chow mein diet, especially when you’re trekking! 😏
One thing that’s pretty unique in Nepal if you’re not vegetarian: you see chickens everywhere, but if you want to buy one, it’s super expensive—more expensive than any other meat like buffalo, yak, or mutton.
In the city, in KTM, I bet you’ve tried momos? They’re delicious. You can find them stuffed with veggies, of course, or with beef (usually buffalo) at the same price, but if you get chicken momos, they’ll be pricier! !
I’ve never tried Indian dahi. The times I saw it, it was sitting in the sun with a bunch of flies on it... but in Nepal, especially in the lower regions, it’s also made from buffalo milk.
In the Annapurnas, where you can also find honey, mixing dahi with a few chapatis makes for a decent breakfast.
Otherwise, in pretty much any region of Nepal, it’s hard to gain weight on a diet of dal bhat/chow mein, especially when you’re trekking.
One thing that’s pretty unique to Nepal if you’re not vegetarian: you see chickens everywhere, but if you want to buy one, they’re crazy expensive—more expensive than any other meat like buffalo, yak, or mutton.
In the city, in KTM, I bet you’ve tried momos? They’re delicious. You can find them stuffed with veggies, of course, and others with beef (actually buffalo) at the same price, but if you get chicken momos, they’ll cost more!
I get your reservations about India! I’ll just chime in on the Nepal vs. India topic. Generally, I’d say Nepal is a "softer" continuation of India. People are way calmer, I find. I love India for a ton of reasons, but sometimes you deal with people who are super pushy, and the dirt/poverty is way more shocking than in Nepal.
We also mix honey into dahi, as well as in porridge, "crepes," and of course in the miracle drink that is lemon-ginger-honey... hoping it’s real honey and not flavored sugar syrup!
I lost 3 or 4 kg in 3 weeks in Nepal, probably due to the physical effort and the lean food during a week of trekking. Y lost about 1 or 2 kg. We weren’t exactly heavy to begin with! 😉
We tried momos in KTM several times, prepared in different ways (but always veggie). Honestly, they didn’t really blow us away!
Funny and interesting what you said about chicken. 🙂
Yeah, there’s no pressure in Nepal—people are peaceful and discreet. No one comes up to hassle you to buy this or show you that. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to India, and I think I couldn’t handle it now. I already avoid noisy, polluted cities pretty much everywhere.
The quiet side of India is still the Himalayan one: Himachal Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Uttar Pradesh, Darjeeling...
For those who need to lose a few kgs, the most effective diet is trekking in Nepal! !😉
Day 4 – Langtang to Kyanjing Gompa (1)
Last night, in the common room, there were 2 Englishwomen. Since they were sitting next to the Australians, whom we’re avoiding, we only caught snippets of their conversation. At breakfast, though, they sat right next to us and were clearly in a hurry to leave. They’ve got a flight to catch! They’re heading straight down to Syapru Besi—wow, that’ll be a long day of hiking for them! But they’re in their early thirties and in great shape. Plus, it’s probably easier going down than up, even if the path is pretty tricky.
Since we’re heading to Kyanjing Gompa today, which is at around 3,865 meters above sea level, we’re now entering a "subalpine" climate zone, supposedly just below the tree line. In reality, what we’ll see are mostly shrubs—trees clearly don’t grow easily on the higher sections of the trek. I think we could already call this tundra. Though I’ll admit I don’t know much about biomes, vegetation, and all that.
Anyway, I put on long underwear just in case my pants are too thin. So far, it hasn’t been cold—just pleasantly cool. Y and I have everything we need (or almost) in terms of clothing: base, mid, and outer layers, and they’re decent quality. After 2 days of trekking, we’re starting to figure out how to manage temperature, humidity, and wind—opening and closing zippers to the millimeter! It’s a bit like skiing…
Around 8:30 AM, “zam zam” – let’s go! First photo: the metropolis of Langtang and all its suburbs sprawling below us! 😉 A little later, we cross a pretty stream—nothing dangerous this time! Second photo: a yak crossing the stream.
Two hours of fairly easy walking and we arrive at the spot called Nespali—3,620m above sea level (3rd photo). Around 11 AM, a photo break is in order: Y strikes a proud pose in front of the landslide warning sign at Yamfu, 3,714 meters (4th photo). She looks like she’s in great shape today! 🙂 Since Langtang is at 3,455 meters, we’ve gained about 250 meters in 3 hours of hiking—piece of cake! Especially since there were fewer ups and downs than the first few days!
Just a little farther, we cross another pretty stream (5th photo).
We pass the Buddha Restaurant at 11:15 AM (6th photo). It proudly advertises its specialty: German bakery and pastries (7th photo)! There’s not a single customer… 😕 Which makes me realize we haven’t met a single German on the whole trek.
The path might be easier than the first two days, but the surrounding terrain is still rugged: 8th and 9th photos. Even before reaching Langtang, we were skirting the southern flank of Luri Himal, a massif about ten kilometers long that rises above 6,000 meters. The highest peak is Langtang Lirung at 7,227 meters—that’s no small feat. We’re actually only about 5 kilometers away from it. Glaciers descend from it, likely dumping tons of rocks of all sizes, reshaped by landslides, rockfalls, and earthquakes.
Day 4 – Langtang to Kyanjing Gompa (2)
We arrive at Kyanjing Gompa at half past noon: first photo. Only 4 hours of walking today, and the path was significantly easier than the first two days!
What’s remarkable is that several buildings have multiple stories. It’s surprising, given there’s no way to bring construction materials by road—it makes you wonder how they built all this! H told me helicopters are used, but I really doubt it, considering the costs involved.
Tonight’s guesthouse is one of those colorful multi-story houses. Our room is on the 3rd floor, the kitchen and common room are on the 5th. We meet up there a little after 1 PM for lunch. I ordered sautéed potatoes with cheese and a fried egg (second photo). It’s pretty decent—filling, at least. 🙂
The Australians are here too, in one corner, the guy still looking miserable. 😐 A group of people occupies the other side of the room. One of the women, lying on the middle bench, sits up to make room for me. From the few words she says, I can easily tell she’s American. Yes, from Colorado, she tells me, and “You sound European” prompts me to clarify that I’m French.
These Americans, three couples in their forties, are very loud. It’s like they’re the only ones in the room. 😐 From the few words exchanged with the woman, I’d already picked up on that hint of hardness bordering on arrogance (I’m searching for the right words) that I’ve often noticed among Americans (I’ve had enough experience with them, professionally and otherwise). Oh, not all of them, of course!
But to end this fairly short post on a different note, I’ve meanwhile uploaded a short video of the Langtang to YouTube, just after Syapru Besi and before the hydroelectric plant. Here’s the link:
Hi,
Will you end up having a sunny day after all?🤪
Kyangin Gompa really isn’t very nice in this weather. There are a few more buildings than when I passed through. Didn’t you go buy some cheese at the dairy? I heard it was the Swiss who started making cheese there...
It’s also worth continuing a few more kilometers to the end of the valley. There were lots of yak herds there!
Hello,
You’ll end up having a sunny day after all?
Kyangin Gompa really isn’t very pretty. There’s a bit more construction than when I passed through. Didn’t you go buy cheese at the dairy? I heard it was the Swiss who started making the cheese here...
It’s also worth continuing a few more kilometers to the end of the valley. There used to be lots of yak herds there.
Nope, sunshine was rare, unfortunately! It didn’t always rain, either—there were a few breaks, but I wouldn’t exactly call them sunny...
The rain we got was pretty light, sometimes just a drizzle.
Maybe I should’ve titled my travel journal: "Trek in the Mist"... or maybe I should’ve ripped off the movie with Sigourney Weaver and gone with "Monkeys in the Mist", since we saw those monkeys a little lower down?
As for the cheese, no, we didn’t go any farther than Kyanjing Gompa. Higher up, though—that’ll be on my next page!
The cheese was indeed at Kyangin Gompa... A real cheese shop! You couldn’t miss it unless it’s no longer there after the earthquake. I stocked up on cheese there for the Ganja La pass: 3 whole days, partly in the snow, without seeing a soul until Tharke Gyang!
The cheese was indeed at Kyangin Gompa... A real cheese dairy! Impossible to miss unless it no longer exists after the earthquake... I stocked up on cheese there for the Ganja La pass: 3 whole days, partly in the snow, without seeing a soul until Tharke Gyang!
Honestly, I don’t know. I imagine our guide would’ve mentioned something about the cheese. We had a whole afternoon free with nothing planned after an easy hike from Langtang.
None of the other trekkers we met mentioned cheese...
PS: It feels like you’re the only one reacting to my travel journal!
Since the COVID period, the Nepal section hasn’t seen much activity!
In post #6, Terry tara confirms that the cheese shop is still there, but they probably went before you.
The cheese was indeed at Kyangin Gompa... A real cheese shop! Impossible to miss unless it no longer exists after the earthquake... I stocked up on cheese there for the Ganja La pass: 3 whole days, partly in the snow, without seeing a soul until Tharke Gyang!
Honestly, I don’t know. I imagine our guide would’ve mentioned something about the cheese. We had a whole afternoon free with nothing planned after an easy hike from Langtang.
None of the other trekkers we met mentioned cheese...
PS: It feels like you’re the only one reacting to my travel journal!
Hello,
Having traveled to Nepal several times—including 3 trips around Langtang and the Tamang Trail—I’ve been following your amazing story with passion and nostalgia from the start.
Wishing you great Nepalese adventures!
Michel
les oiseaux qui vivent sur une montagne d'or reflètent la couleur de l'or
proverbe tibétain
It's peak season in Nepal, and I'm swamped with work, so I really haven't had time to read up on all the stage details. Personally, it's been a while since I've been there (2023), but I have lots of clients who go, and the last ones who visited the cheese factory were there in May. Depending on the time of year, it's not automatically open, and you might need to ask locals if it's possible to visit and buy cheese.
I haven't checked with my local contacts, but I'd be surprised if it's been closed since the monsoon season. That said, in early September, it might not be open non-stop since it's not quite peak season yet.
The cheese was indeed at Kyangin Gompa... A real cheese shop! Impossible to miss unless it no longer exists after the earthquake... I stocked up on cheese there for the Ganja La pass: 3 whole days, partly in the snow, without seeing a soul until Tharke Gyang!
Honestly, I don’t know. I imagine our guide would’ve mentioned something about the cheese. We had a whole afternoon free with nothing planned after a relatively easy hike from Langtang.
None of the other trekkers we met mentioned cheese...
PS: It feels like you’re the only one reacting to my travel journal!
Hi,
I’ve been to Nepal several times over the years, including 3 trips around the Langtang and Tamang Trail, and I’ve been following your amazing story with passion and nostalgia from the start.
Great Nepalese adventures to you!
Michel
Day 5 – Kyanjing Ri
Breakfast. The Americans are up around a table in a corner of the room, discussing their itinerary with their guide, with documents spread out on the table. They’re being loud again, completely ignoring the other guests. The nerve of those people! 😠
Y decided not to do the excursion to Kyanjing Ri. I totally get it, and H feels the same. As for me, I’m ready. I slept badly last night—the bed was really uncomfortable. 🙁 Oh well, at 7:30 AM, “zam zam”! The climb starts right after leaving Kyanjing Gompa. It’s a narrow trail but doesn’t present any particular difficulties—except that it goes up, up, up. I have to stop several times along the way to catch my breath. I hadn’t had any issues until now, but we’re now over 4,000 meters above sea level, and I’m starting to feel the fact that the air has much less oxygen available. Actually, if I understand correctly, the air contains the same proportion of oxygen here as at sea level—21%—but the air pressure is lower, which means with each breath, you get less air, and therefore less oxygen, into your lungs. Other than that, no other issues, no symptoms of altitude sickness.
We reach a saddle: to the left (west), the “Lower Kyanjing Ri,” at 4,400 meters, and to the right (east), a second summit peaking at 4,773 meters. I’ve already climbed 530 meters in elevation from Kyanjing Gompa (3,870 meters) in about an hour and a half. The extra 373 meters to reach the higher summit would be too much for me. H says it would take another hour and a half to get there.
The saddle isn’t spacious. It only offers a few square meters of relatively flat ground to spread out the map I was given in KTM. With my cheap little compass, I orient it under the surprised gazes of H and S. I don’t think this kind of thing is part of their education… Once the two summits are located, we know Tibet is straight ahead, just a few kilometers away.
It only takes about ten minutes to reach “Lower Kyanjing Ri,” just after 9 AM. First photo. There’s still some scrub at this altitude, and I’ve noticed plenty of goat, cow, and yak droppings along the way. It’s still cow-mountain territory!
The second photo shows the arrival at the summit—I think it really captures the chaotic nature of this mountain! Also, you can see there are only a few meters of usable space between the steep slopes. Third photo: H and S sitting a few steps higher, at the summit. Behind them, to the west, you can clearly see the Langtang Lirung, rising to 7,227 meters. It towers over us by almost 3,000 meters. Since it’s only 8 or 9 kilometers away, the clear weather lets us make out every detail of its majestic ice mass. 😎
I’m joking, of course! 😏 I held back from adding any lyrical words about birds chirping in the branches! In reality, we’ve been in the fog since Kyanjing Gompa, and visibility at the summit is probably only a few dozen meters at best.
The fourth photo faces north. The Tibetan border is about 5 km away. But we can’t see a thing—just thick pea soup. What bad luck! 😕
The descent is faster than the climb. We get back to Kyanjing Gompa around 10:30 AM. Fifth photo: Kyanjing Gompa in the fog.
What rotten luck with the weather! I’ve done a good dozen treks in Nepal and I’ve never had weather like that… just a bit of fog at the Laurebina Pass, if I remember right. But I’ve always gone in October/November—even once as late as December—and also in March/April.
If you’d chosen that time, you could’ve seen the rhododendrons in bloom… not little shrubs like in France, but trees 15 meters tall! Completely covered in red flowers.
Too bad you didn’t keep going to the end of the valley toward Langshisha Kharka. It’s really the most beautiful part, and there are loads of yak herds. The climb is very gradual—nothing like Kyangjin Ri!
Such bad luck with the weather! I've done a good dozen treks in Nepal and I've never had weather like that... just a bit of fog at the Laurebina Pass, if I remember correctly. But I've always gone in October/November, even once until December, and also in March/April.
By the way, if you'd chosen that period, you could've seen the rhododendrons in bloom... not bushes like in France, but trees up to 15 meters tall! All covered in red flowers.
Yeah, I got it—I'll avoid September next time! It was a beginner's mistake... for trekking, at least, since it was my 3rd trip to Nepal. My first trip was back in 1982, October or even November I think. I spent a couple of weeks in KTM among other things—it was so cool! I remember it got pretty chilly at night in my little hotel room.
Too bad you didn't continue to the end of the valley toward Langshisha Kharka. It's really the most beautiful part, and there are plenty of yak herds... it climbs very gradually, unlike Kyangin Ri!
Noted. But that's a good two days' walk farther, according to the map. These days, I tend to lock in my schedule way in advance—everyone books things so far ahead! It wasn't like that in the past; you could improvise!
Have you climbed Langshisa Ri? That's 6,560 meters—quite another story!
For next time, I might look into the Pokhara area, but I'd go for a trek less crowded than those around Annapurna. Have you heard of Mardi Himal, a week-long trek?
You climbed Langshisa Ri? That’s 6,560 meters—whole different ballgame!
Nope, just Langshisha Kharka ;)
In Nepali, "Kharka" is a summer pasture for yaks during the warm season.
We set off early and did the round trip in a day.
Next time, I might look around Pokhara, but I’d go for a trek less crowded than the ones around Annapurna. Have you heard of Mardi Himal—a week-long trek?
I haven’t done Mardi Himal, but I think it’s pretty popular given all the ads about it.
A relatively easy week-long trek in the Annapurna region that’s mostly off the beaten path:
It’s the last section of the famous "Annapurna Circuit."
Before the trail existed in its first and last parts, you’d do a full loop from Pokhara to Pokhara, taking 19 days.
Now, most of it’s done by bus or jeep on the way up, then roughly cross Thorong La (5,400m) on foot, descend to Muktinath and Jomsom, and from there, almost no one continues on foot since there’s a drivable track + paved road back to Pokhara...
But there are still these alternative paths on the left bank of the Kali Gandaki—the main track runs on the right bank...
My tip:
Take a bus from Pokhara to Jomsom (2,750m) or fly there—it’s unpredictable, super impressive (you pass between two 8,000m peaks, Dhaulagiri and Annapurna), and a bit risky!
From there, it’s worth continuing to Muktinath but via the small, typical villages while avoiding the jeep track!...
Descend toward Kagbeni, a border village in Upper Mustang, still in its original state (well, I assume).
Then keep descending via the alternative paths. Stop in the lovely village of Marpha, then Tukuche, and at Larjung, take a detour east to reach Titi Lake (gorgeous—no one goes there!).
Finish the loop at Lete and take the alternative path to Gasa (or Ghansa) or Tatopani (hot springs) to enjoy the warm baths! Then take the bus back to Pokhara.
Did you climb Langshisa Ri? That’s 6,560 meters—whole different ballgame!
Nope, just Langshisha Kharka ;)
In Nepali, "Kharka" is a summer pasture for yaks during the warm season.
By getting up early, we did the round trip in a day.
Next time, I might look around Pokhara, but I’d go for a trek less crowded than the ones around Annapurna. Have you heard of Mardi Himal—a week-long trek?
I haven’t been to Mardi Himal, but I think it’s actually pretty popular based on all the ads about it.
A relatively easy trek you can do in a week in the Annapurna area that’s mostly *not* crowded at all:
It’s the last part of the famous "Annapurna Circuit."
Before the trail existed in its first and last sections, you’d really do a full loop from Pokhara to Pokhara, and it took 19 days.
Now, a big chunk is done by bus or jeep on the way up, then basically you cross Thorong La Pass (5,400m) on foot, descend to Muktinath and Jomsom, and after that, almost no one keeps walking since there’s a drivable track + paved road back to Pokhara...
But there are still these alternative paths on the left bank of the Kali Gandaki—the main track is on the right bank...
My tip:
Take a bus from Pokhara to Jomsom (2,750m) or fly there—it’s unpredictable, super impressive since you pass between two 8,000m peaks (Dhaulagiri and Annapurna), and a bit risky!
From there, it’s worth continuing to Muktinath but via the small, typical villages while avoiding the jeep track!...
Descend toward Kagbeni, a border village in Upper Mustang, still in its original state (well, I assume).
Then keep descending to Jomsom and continue (still downhill) on the alternative paths. Stop in the lovely village of Marpha, then Tukuche... At Larjung, take a detour east to reach Titi Lake (gorgeous—no one goes there!)... Finish the loop at Lete and take the alternative path to Gasa (or Ghansa) or Tatopani (hot springs) to enjoy the warm baths! Then take the bus back to Pokhara.
I’m picking up my travel journal where I’d come back down from Kyanjing Ri to Kyanjing Gompa.
Lunch before heading back to Langtang. Y negotiates the purchase of a few knitted trinkets made by the guesthouse owner’s wife. I think Djalma mentioned earlier that the Tamangs, the local population, aren’t *real* Tibetans. The guesthouse owner’s wife really has a Tibetan face! Wikipedia—the easy first source before consulting the “experts” 🙂—states that “the Tamang people are a hybrid ethnic group with an estimated 59% genetic contribution from Tibetan and 41% from Nepalese ancestries” = “the Tamangs are a hybrid ethnic group, with 59% Tibetan genetic contribution and 41% Nepalese” (my translation—you often find more info in English than in French).
Y settles on a pretty unique headband. The price drops in 2 or 3 minutes, from 10,000 rupees to the final 3,000 rupees. I remember negotiating small items with Tibetans during my first trip to Nepal in 1982, and I recall them being smiley but pretty tough on prices. I suspect they take advantage of the sympathy they know they inspire in foreigners!
I’m sure we could’ve pushed for another 500 rupees, but we don’t like haggling like dogs (I’ve seen French people do it, and it doesn’t help their reputation). We can imagine that the locals spend long winter months and the whole rainy season without seeing many people, and that they make all kinds of little things to earn a bit of money when customers return. They really need it!
We leave for Langtang. I can’t find any photos of our route—maybe I didn’t take any? Anyway, there’s not much to add to what I’ve already said about those few fairly easy kilometers.
In Langtang, we go back to the same guesthouse as on the way there—the one run by the woman who mumbles her prayers (I think in Tibetan) in front of her altar in a corner of the common room. That evening, we meet a friendly young American couple there. The woman says she grew up in Nepal, and sure enough, she seems to speak Nepali fluently with the guesthouse staff, guides, porters, etc. They’re heading straight back down to Syapru Besi tomorrow, like the two English women the other day. That’s not something we’d do! We’re in good shape physically, but we’re not the same age!
Interesting. I think it would take more than a week to do all that, from Pokhara to Pokhara and back?
I see the permit for Upper Mustang (Kagbeni) costs $500. For two people, that's a fortune!
If we avoid going to Upper Mustang, would a guide be necessary/mandatory?
1- No, not more than a week. You take the bus, jeep, or plane to "go up" directly to Jomosom (2750m).
From there, if you follow the alternative paths south on the left bank of the Kali Gandaki, it's a descent 2-day trek to Tatopani (hot springs)—that's why I suggested a little detour from Larjung to Titi Lake... (optional).
From Tatopani, it's a tough climb over a long day (Annapurna balcony) to Ghorepani/Poon Hill, where you get a magnificent view of the Annapurna range and Dhaulagiri. It's very busy, but everyone gets there from the other side (from Pokhara). Optional too... In Tatopani, you can take a bus to Pokhara (via Beni).
If from Jomosom you head north first, it's one or two days to climb to Muktinath (3600m) at the foot of the Thorung Pass (5400m). Muktinath is a pilgrimage site with a temple where a flame burns permanently... Between the two, several timeless villages—worth stopping in one of them.
The return is Muktinath-Kagbeni/Jomosom.
Kagbeni, still in Lower Mustang (at the border), is a medieval village that gives you an idea of what Upper Mustang is like... From Kagbeni to Jomosom, or Jomosom to Kagbeni, it's a 2 to 2.5-hour walk on a trail following the Kali Gandaki... with very little elevation gain.
2- Upper Mustang is in a "restricted area," with the entry point at the village of Kagbeni. The permit costs $500 for 10 days, plus $50 per extra day. People often stay longer than 10 days. An agency is mandatory to get the permit, so you have agency fees (food, basic lodging, or camping) plus the round-trip flight Jomsom/Pokhara.
Upper Mustang is the most spectacular thing I've seen (in terms of landscapes) in Nepal. It's a mineral world still frozen in time, a desert dotted with high-mountain oases, with all the 8000m peaks right in front of you (on the way back) (Dhaulagiri, Annapurna 1, 2, 3, and South, Nilgiri, etc.), gigantic troglodyte cliffs, deep canyons. The sky is almost always clear because the monsoon doesn't reach it, but a violent wind sometimes blows. The country exudes serenity (Lamaist Buddhism).
3- According to the new guidelines, a guide would be mandatory for all types of treks in Nepal, but I think (without certainty) it's not enforced. This rule has been in place many times since the 90s without ever being applied. I've done most of my treks without a permit... You just need the TIMS, a form to fill out (describing the route taken) at the tourism office or immigration to enable searches in case of problems.
PS: Map of the Annapurna "Circuit"
https://peregrinetreks.com/fr/blog/carte-du-trek-du-circuit-des-Annapurnas
You can see that the description of the "Circuit" stops at Jomosom. What I'm suggesting is doing the last part from Jomosom to Beni and Pokhara (with possible variations), with the option to take the bus at any time by leaving the alternative paths to return to the main road, where you'll find "bus stops" in every village.
3- Lower Mustang (up to Kagbeni), which covers part of the Annapurna Circuit, is not in a "restricted area," so unless the new guidelines are applied to the letter (mandatory guide for everything), neither the permit nor a guide is necessary.
I think Djalma mentioned earlier that the Tamangs, the local population, aren't "real" Tibetans. The GH owner’s wife really has a Tibetan face! Wikipedia—the first easy source of info before consulting the "experts" 🙂—says: "the Tamang people are a hybrid ethnic group with an estimated 59% genetic contribution from Tibetan and 41% from Nepalese ancestries" = "the Tamangs are a hybrid ethnic group with 59% Tibetan genetic contribution and 41% Nepalese."
Yes, the Tamangs are Tibetan, just like the French are Gaulish😉.
Yeah, the Tamangs are Tibetan just like the French are Gaulish😉
If that’s the case, then not really! The French population—considering only those who’ve been French for at least 2 or 3 generations—probably has only a tiny fraction of a percent of Gaulish genetic heritage! Even 2,000 years ago (give or take), Rome was accusing Julius Caesar of committing outright genocide during his "Gallic Wars"!
Day 6 – From Langtang to Lama Hotel – Earthquakes
Woke up at 6:30 AM. Breakfast at 7 AM. Hit the trail just before 8 AM.
Just outside Langtang, we stopped in front of a small monument we’d already noticed three days earlier on our way from Lama Hotel. It was erected in memory of the April 2015 "Gorkha" earthquake that devastated Langtang. The commemorative plaque (1st photo) states that in addition to 10 soldiers, 201 Nepalis and 38 foreigners (trekkers) lost their lives—249 people in total! Wikipedia lists a total of 310 fatalities, with around a hundred never found.
The earthquake, with its epicenter between Pokhara and Kathmandu, measured 7.8 on the Richter scale. Significant, but 100 times less powerful than the Tōhoku earthquake in Japan in 2011, which, among other things, triggered a massive tsunami and the Fukushima nuclear disaster.
Nepal lies in the middle of a vast region affected by the collision between the Indian and Eurasian tectonic plates. This area stretches from Afghanistan and Pakistan to Myanmar and southern China. India, having broken away from the African continent 120 million years ago (during the Early Cretaceous), collided with Eurasia 50 million years ago (the Eocene geological age). It continues moving northward, diving beneath Eurasia, which has formed a foreland basin—the Gangetic Plain—lifted the Himalayan mountain range, and further elevated the Tibetan Plateau. It’s comparable to what’s happening with Italy, the Po Plain, and the Alps—the tectonic mechanisms are quite similar. This "subduction" creates an enormous number of faults (fractures). The 2015 earthquake was caused by a sudden shift along one of these faults.
The village of Langtang was completely destroyed by a massive avalanche triggered by the earthquake. Langtang sits just a few kilometers below the Luri Himal range, which peaks at Langtang Lirung (7,227 meters). You can imagine all that can come crashing down from such mountains!
The village was rebuilt 500 meters upstream from its original location, now buried. As you pass the memorial, you’ll notice sturdy stone walls (2nd photo), no doubt built to protect people from any future landslides.
On the other side of the avalanche zone, what strikes me are the completely vertical, smooth, and clean mountain faces (3rd photo). A bit like slices of cake cut by a knife. These "cuts" must be fresh, otherwise erosion would’ve already altered their appearance. So, it seems we’re looking at a fault plane reactivated in 2015. The displacement along this fault must’ve been several meters—truly impressive. It’s likely a "strike-slip" fault (strike slip in English), with horizontal movement, but you’d need to examine it up close—look at the friction striations, etc. A whole geological investigation! The reactivation of this fault by the earthquake undoubtedly caused the avalanche.
Though the trail is fairly well-marked (4th photo), I think it’d be easy to get lost in this chaotic landscape! We’d been wondering from the start if a guide was really necessary—they don’t seem to do much besides handling lodging and meals—but you might regret not having one!
Luckily, it’s not raining, and the terrain is mostly rocky—no clay. In the photo, on the left, you can already see the torrent naturally exploiting the base of the fault. A wooden-plank bridge lets us cross it easily (5th photo). Easily, yes, but I’m sure plenty of people would hesitate seeing the torrent’s force. Check out the video I uploaded to YouTube:
I'm still following your journey through the rain and mist... Oh dear! 😕
Next time, I might look into Pokhara, but I'd go for a trek less crowded than those around Annapurna. Have you heard of the Mardi Himal, a week-long trek?
Random thoughts...
I don’t know the Mardi Himal in the Annapurna area.
Djalma gave you a good tip, though it’s not my favorite part of the Annapurna Circuit (the Gandaki Valley from Jomsom to Tatopani, with the final climb to Ghorepani). There are beautiful spots, like the village of Marpha, but sometimes you have to walk along the extremely dusty road with frequent truck traffic, and I find the landscapes less impressive than elsewhere.
Muktinath and its surroundings, on the other hand, are much more interesting to me. The valley is full of temples, monasteries (Dzong, Kagbeni...), and offers stunning views of Dhaulagiri.
Very few tourists take the trail between Muktinath and Jomsom via the Lubra Pass. I personally loved this route.
In theory, you can explore this region in less than a week.
Otherwise, if you get a permit for $500/person, then yes, I can only recommend Upper Mustang. The landscapes there are exceptional, and if you ever return to Nepal in September , the weather is much better than south of the 8000m mark—the climate is much drier.
I went back to do the Annapurna Circuit two years ago. It was in November. Even though it’s popular, this trek is absolutely stunning.
Of course, 8 days isn’t enough, but you can shorten it by taking a jeep to Chame. Some take it all the way to Manang, but that’s a bit irresponsible, as the risk of AMS (acute mountain sickness) is still significant. The trail between Upper Pisang and Ngwal is absolutely gorgeous and lets you avoid the road, which is unavoidable in some places but fairly short in the end.
So from Chame to Muktinath without going as far as Tilicho, you should be able to do it in 8 days if you walk well:
1 night in Chame, 1 in Upper Pisang, 1 in Ngwal, 2 in Manang, 1 in Yak Kharka, 1 in Thorong Phedi, 1 in Muktinath.
Another alternative in this region is the Naar and Phu trek. Also breathtaking. A permit is required, but it’s much cheaper than the one for Upper Mustang.
Things change quickly in Nepal. What wasn’t possible a few years ago has become doable. But the mountains remain...
As you know, Nepalis will bend over backwards to meet your requests.
Though modest, I’ve written a travel journal about Nepal. It’s on my travel blog (see my profile). I cover all the treks mentioned above. The descriptions are pretty basic, but there are photos, and you’ll even see your Langtang trek in great weather (in February).
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If I close my eyes and think of the Sultanate of Oman, I first smell a light scent of incense, feel the warmth of a sunbeam on my skin, before sand slips through my fingers. I taste the sweetness of a date, a real candy, then the flavor of coffee with a hint of cardamom and rosewater... I hear the desert wind whistling in my ears, the distant call of a muezzin, then the murmur of water. I open my eyes to see smiles, welcoming gestures, a turquoise sea, rocks ranging from ochre to purple, deep wadis where torrents burst forth, orange dunes, white sandy beaches where tiny crabs scurry at full speed. I see incredible oases emerging between arid mountains. I see abandoned villages that I’d dream were full of life, imposing fortresses overlooking valleys, and lively souks where offers are delicate and negotiation is a mutual courtesy.
All that, and so much more.
This is what I tried to capture in my illustrated travel journal, which I’ll fill in here and there with photos.
I drew this journal “cold,” after my return (actually, I made it this summer, while our trip was last winter). It’s a pretty special format—I bought it in Japan without really knowing what I’d do with it. Well, it found its purpose! Below is a photo of this accordion-style journal: here, it’s only partially open, because when fully unfolded, it’s 5 meters long!
For drawing enthusiasts: The accordion format is both a constraint (each sheet is 9 cm x 27 cm) and a freedom (you can create a fresco). The paper is also a bit special: it doesn’t allow for fine lines, but it takes ink well (liner pen). However, everything has to be done almost in one go (with a very light pencil sketch) because it erases poorly. It absorbs too much water for coloring with markers or watercolors (unless you avoid soaking it), but it works well with oil pastels and their use with a brush and solvent. Since it’s yellowish, it allowed me to create contrasts even with white pastel.
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those stunning doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Oman is one of the world’s largest producers of frankincense resin. Incense burners are everywhere, from the simplest clay ones to the most precious handcrafted silver ones...
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a touch of saffron, and occasionally rosewater.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (during the week and daytime; colors are more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you’ll see some men dressed in Western clothes, they’re very few. The white dishdasha is truly the shared attire of all men. The dishdasha, which has no hood, is distinguished by a small pom-pom attached to the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go overboard with it! "It smells like the pom-pom" is an expression that’s now part of our shared language, my husband and I.
Another must of men’s attire is the kuma, a small round head covering, usually white with brightly colored patterns. The keffiyeh is also worn (but without the cord called an agal in Arab countries), and it’s mostly worn by those with roots in the desert, from what I understood.
And what about the women, you might ask? Some are veiled, some in full black (but not a burka—more like a chador + abaya), due to the influence of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, whereas the traditional outfit used to be a layering of very colorful dresses. Most of the women we saw wore neutral clothing, a plain veil over their hair, but with their faces uncovered. We also saw many saris and colorful veils—don’t forget that 40% of the population consists of Indian, Nepalese, and Bangladeshi immigrants, who work a lot in tourism, hospitality, restaurants, services, and construction.
Just to clarify, as a tourist, there’s no pressure to wear a veil, and never any disapproving looks. Of course, you’ll save the mini shorts, plunging necklines, bare shoulders, and midriffs for the hotel terrace—but I’d say that’s the same for men and women, and with the sun being strong, it’s better for your skin too.
Here’s the introduction! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
I’m sharing a little recap of this new 4-week trip to China—nothing fancy, just my experience.
We’re taking advantage of the extended visa exemption to return to China for the 4th time. I loved last summer’s trip so much that I’m a bit worried about being disappointed this year. Plus, I’ve had a few hiccups before this departure: my WeChat account got blocked, and I couldn’t recover it (luckily, Alipay still works fine); I couldn’t verify my 12306 account for weeks; Trip.com failed to book our second train; and I’ve got an injury that’ll slow me down during the trip... Ugh, I hate starting a trip with these kinds of issues. Then, oh surprise! Just before leaving, my 12306 account got verified! Super easy to use from that point on—I could book a few train tickets without fees.
We’re sticking with Free’s e-SIMs, which work great in China.
August 2–3
Anyway, on the morning of August 2nd, we took the RER to CDG. As usual, we couldn’t check in online. It’s always a bit frustrating, especially since we didn’t have any checked luggage. We flew with Air China. We arrived at the check-in counter at 9:50 AM, 2 hours and 40 minutes before the flight. The line for our check-in stretched 300 meters across the airport in both directions. What a joke!! We spent 1 hour and 45 minutes in that line just to reach the counter and get our boarding passes. By then, it was 11:35 AM, and boarding had already started at 11:20 AM. The screens showed a 25-minute walk to our gate—on the other side of the airport, of course—plus we had to go through passport control and security... Long story short, the plane didn’t leave without us 🙂 We boarded among the last passengers, and we took off at 12:30 PM. We’d flown Air China four times before, but this time, it felt *really* low-cost. The check-in chaos, the cramped seats (12 seats per row), no music by artists known outside China, mediocre food, and a boarding area at Beijing Airport with only 10 seats—worthy of Ryanair or EasyJet. And yet, the price was sky-high. Again, D.’s vacation requests were denied outside of July and August, so we’re traveling from August 2nd to 30th. We couldn’t have picked a worse time for inflated prices, and with the situation in Iran, we got hit with a 390 € fuel surcharge. I’ve never paid so much for flights—I felt like I’d bought business class, but nope, far from it!!
We landed in Beijing around 4:15 AM. It was 28°C with thick fog. We drove and drove and drove for 20 minutes, as usual in Beijing. Then we went through a first check, a second check, a third check, and waited for our connecting flight at 6:40 AM. A small Airbus A320, but way more space than in the Boeing 777 from the first flight. We landed in Kunming, Yunnan, around 10:15 AM in the rain.
We headed to the subway. You can’t pay at the machines with Alipay here either, so we set up the transport QR code directly in Alipay to scan at the subway gates. The process is a bit long the first time if you haven’t entered your info before, but once it’s done, it’s *so* much easier! We took Line 6 to the terminus for 6 yuan each.
We’d booked a hotel nearby, on the 16th floor. It’s actually studios on different floors of a huge residential building. The view’s pretty nice from here. We settled in quickly—back to those wooden beds, or rather, mattresses as hard as wood, which we *hadn’t* missed...
Then we went out for our first bowl of noodles of the trip and wandered through the shopping streets of the old town.
It was crowded, and the weather was cool—around 19–20°C. We tried a local specialty: milk skin, thick, dried, then grilled with rose jam. Yeah... we won’t be having that again. The taste and texture of the milk skin... no thanks.
We saw a lot of wild mushroom hotpot too. It’s on our list for later. We also passed through the Jinma and Biji gates, where I played with reflections in puddles. I *love* doing that 🙂
At the end of the day, we headed to a temple advertised as open 24/7 on Amap. Of course, when we got there, it was closed. We’ll go back tomorrow. That was the first of many disappointments with Amap this trip—I hadn’t had that issue on previous visits.
We were exhausted after that sleepless flight. Night was falling, and we decided to grab a quick bite without much appetite. We shared a delicious vegetable fried rice for 12 yuan—we even left half of it. The portions are *huge*.
After a couple of small purchases, we headed back at 9 PM, wiped out, after walking 17 km between the airports and these first steps in Kunming. I expected to see quite a few Western travelers here, but we didn’t spot a single one. Instead, we met lots of curious Chinese people, many of them super friendly and helpful—almost *too* eager, like when they’d run to serve us as fast as possible. It’s a bit much, but it’s great to be back!
The latest travel journal about Turkmenistan dates back to 2019. Here’s a quick update on this vast desert country, which is now a bit easier to visit than before.
This is my first travel journal. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. The country is slowly opening up, but it’s still possible to visit sites where you’ll be completely alone. In five days, I saw two Hongkongers, a few Germans, and a Chilean at the crater, ten Chinese people in a capital bazaar, and that’s it!
It’s possible to visit Turkmenistan from Uzbekistan. The easiest and most economical way is to take a taxi to the border from Bukhara. The trip takes a little over an hour.
Crossing the border takes quite a while because many Turkmen bring back items bought in Uzbekistan to resell in Turkmenistan. For example, diapers, baby products, or beauty products.
It took me over 2.5 hours to cross the border. To visit Turkmenistan, it’s mandatory to have a guide and go through a travel agency. British agencies often offer three-, five-, or seven-day trips for over 1,500 or 2,000 €.
But if your budget is more limited, you can contact a few Turkmen agencies directly by email, and they’ll make you an offer between 700 and 1,300 € for three to seven days. I took a five-day trip from Turkmenabat in the northeast of the country to Dashoguz in the north. The goal was to visit the main UNESCO-listed sites, including Merv, and archaeological sites like Nisa or Gonur Tepe.
Your guide will also be your driver. They’ll pick you up at the border. The formalities are very long because customs officers have to stamp multiple documents, and obtaining the visa you previously requested from your travel agency requires several checks. But the process goes relatively smoothly, even if each step takes a while.
Once on the other side, the first surprise is the brand-new highway all the way to Turkmenabat. A very long line of trucks stretches for several kilometers on the Turkmen side to cross the border into Uzbekistan. According to my guide, Turkmen trucks transport gas and cotton (though not this season, since the harvest is in September), but they mainly fill up their tanks because fuel is much cheaper in Turkmenistan. A full tank for a car costs about 3 €, which is unbeatable.
From the Farap border post, the goal is to reach the city of Mary, which is home to the UNESCO-listed site of Merv in its suburbs, about thirty kilometers away. This city is known as a foundation by Alexander the Great in the 4th century BC under the name Alexandria of Margiana. Several fortresses are visible.
After more than three hours on the road, we have lunch at a Turkish restaurant called Aladdin. Several quotes from the president are visible along the highway, but the road is in good condition, and we move along easily. This will be by far the best road in the country—things will get much worse later.
Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.
Hi everyone, we're back from a DIY USA road trip we organized from July 31, 2026, to August 26, 2026.
The destination: The Southwest USA, including Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico. Roughly 7,000 kilometers covered.
The car: A Chevrolet Equinox for two, rented through BSP Auto and Avis. Inside, we had 2 suitcases, a travel bag, two carry-on bags, a Walmart cooler, photo gear, and water bottles (a 40-pack).
The route: Dallas DFW, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Alpine, El Paso, Tucson, Sedona, Albuquerque, Amarillo, and back to Dallas to finish with a departure from DFW.
The travelers: Two seniors well advanced in years (73 and 75) but still active (nothing too physically demanding—to stay alive and fund our trips), fully independent physically, though a bit less so mentally. Big USA fans, a country where anything is possible. More walkers than hikers, preferring 3-star hotels over roadside motels, Italian restaurants over US food, frequent stops for photos, museums over nothing, naps over forced marches. Not too whiny, just enough to stay French in the land of the "great Satan," as they say.
Not great with languages—street English (but handy), and my Spanish is non-existent except for: "Hola! Una cerveza por favor!" That’s about it. My wife understands everything but refuses to speak.
The cost of the road trip: Around 12,000 €, including AF flights, the car, gas, gifts, visits, and everything else. Well managed, since we’d budgeted 13,500 € initially.
The positive side: A delight, with those endless open roads. Museums to discover. The realization of the Hispanic presence and its important history in this part of America. Lovely locals. Tourists who were more or less friendly. A terrible Texan accent that was hard to understand. Gas stations that were like real stores, with prepared food, alcohol sold in Arizona and New Mexico, and employees who were always up for a laugh!
The negative side: The heat throughout the trip... 43°C in Dallas at the end. Impossible to walk the streets. Lots of homeless people in downtown Dallas. Hotel breakfasts that were always the same. You get used to it.
So, it was positive overall, but the concept is starting to wear us out. We might rethink the DIY road trip model for next time. If the man upstairs grants us more time.
Next up, we’ll wait for the first batch of sorted photos to go through the wringer.
"So, my little wanderers, back at the decks? What’s this mystery destination you’ve got in store for us at the start of the year?"
Yes, the schoolyard bell’s ringing again! We’re hitting the road... or rather, the skies! At first glance, our destination might surprise more than a few. First off, simply because I was here exactly twenty years ago, and I don’t usually like retracing my own footsteps. Secondly, because the name of this place screams mass tourism—basically the opposite of what Flo and I look for.
Despite that, in this land of backsheesh, I’d promised myself I’d come back one day to experience it my way. And since Flo told me, during our wanderer chats, that this destination straddling Africa and the Middle East was in her top 2 travel dreams, the stars aligned for this roots-style trip to quickly make it onto our pharaonic festivities program! Unless you’re totally clueless in general knowledge, you’ve probably guessed by now—we’re off to Egypt! Of course, a few classics will be on our itinerary, but above all, we want to soak up a culture that can’t be appreciated in four-star resorts or on a Nile cruise boat. And let’s be clear, these next two weeks won’t be a walk in the park—neither for our two daughters who are joining us, nor for our bodies!
And that’s clear from the get-go: after our first flight, eight hours of trying (and failing) to sleep on Milan airport’s metal seats, our second flight, landing, passport stamps, our Uber ride, and our first Cairo kilometers, we finally drop our exhaustion at the little guesthouse we booked in Giza. Doesn’t all that energy deserve a little reward?
Oh, absolutely! And here it is: a full-on slap in the face for everyone! But just look at this view from our hotel terrace? For 20 € a night for four, even with this incredible view, I figured the room must be pretty shabby, right? Nope... Is the staff rude, then? Nope... Okay, so what’s the catch? You’re gonna tell me breakfast is included too? Well, yes! Honestly, this Egypt trip is off to a great start.
And the rest of the afternoon, spent rubbing shoulders with locals, only confirmed this vibe. After digesting our pyramid view, we dove into the hustle and bustle of our neighborhood with the goal of exchanging money, eating at street stalls, and testing the hospitality of the locals. Ten out of ten!
Eight little sun breads with baba ganoush and falafel? 80 pounds, or 1.5 €. A dozen Middle Eastern pastries? Same! 80 pounds! Two hawawshis, those little pita breads stuffed with meat and spices? 10 pounds each, or about twenty cents! Not to mention all those smiles and free "welcomes" left and right!!!
What a welcome! We end this first day with a sunset over the three sisters of Giza—where we’ll obviously be gawking tomorrow...
My buddy Christian and I (Patrick) are off for 28 days in Argentina in March.
We’ve already shared several trips as a duo (Bolivia Peru, Namibia, Laos, Costa Rica).
Since we’re starting from the idea that at our age (65) we won’t be coming back here—there are just too many other corners of the world to discover—we did the "grand tour" of Argentina, with 6 domestic flights to make the most of our 28 days.
Here are our stops:
1) Departure from Brussels to Buenos Aires via Madrid
2) Arrival and first contact with Buenos Aires
3) Early morning flight to Ushuaia. Boat trip on the Beagle Channel
4) Ushuaia: hikes in Tierra del Fuego National Park
5) Ushuaia: last hike and flight to El Calafate
6) El Calafate to El Chaltén by bus. First hike
7) El Chaltén: hike
8) El Chaltén: hike
9) El Chaltén: hike and bus back to El Calafate
10) El Calafate: Perito Moreno Glacier
11) Flight to Bariloche. Car rental and surrounding areas
12) Seven Lakes Region
13) Nahuel Huapi National Park region
14) Flight to Salta. Car rental
15) To Tilcara
16) To Humahuaca
17) To Purmamarca
18) To Jujuy via the salt flats
19) To Cafayate
20) Around Cafayate
21) To Cachi
22) Back to Salta
23) Flight to Iguazu
24) Waterfalls on the Argentine side
25) Waterfalls on the Brazilian side and flight to Buenos Aires
26) Buenos Aires
27) Return flight
28) Morning arrival
Happy reading!..
After as many weeks as I have fingers on my right hand, we're hitting the road again, fully recovered from our pharaonic adventure. Back in France to drop off our daughters (sorry, girls!), this time it's just the two of us, ready to be welcomed by a new destination. They say it offers one of the richest cultural heritages in the world for those willing to put in the effort. It's the land of the ancient Silk Road, where we'll follow a journey steeped in history and discoveries straight out of *One Thousand and One Nights*. A former Soviet bloc region independent only since 1991, we'll be walking in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Alexander the Great, Marco Polo...
Another fun fact about this country: it's strictly forbidden to import porn on your phone. True story. The same goes for painkillers! Unless it's about sodomy—though the two don’t seem connected, that’s just how it is. Don’t ask me why! Anyway, I’m getting off track. Here’s the big question: Where do you think we’ve just landed?... To give you a hint, the locals are known for being incredibly welcoming. No sooner said than done—our first taxi driver, proud to transport French travelers, refused to let us pay for the ride. Great vibes for these two weeks ahead. So, any guesses?
Uzbekistan!!!
"How about a Christmas market this year, huh? A little romantic weekend getaway...
- Yes! That’d be cool! Strasbourg? Colmar?
- Feels a bit déjà vu, doesn’t it? Plus, slim chance of snow there... And I’d love something a bit more exotic with a touch of originality..."
"Okay, Google, give me the list of the five most beautiful Christmas markets in Europe.
- In fifth place, the Christmas market in Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania.
- Save your breath! Lithuania, here we come!"
We wanted cold, and cold is exactly what we got the moment we set foot in this new, unknown land. As for landscapes, forests and lakes stretch as far as the eye can see across this vast plain, its vegetation scorched by the frost of a winter that’s clearly already well underway here.
Lakes, in fact, set the scene for our first visit to Trakai Castle, whose brick-red towers and walls rise proudly against the azure sky of our first day. Lakes, because this castle was built on an island and is only accessible on foot via a series of walkways spanning half-frozen lake offshoots. I couldn’t have picked a better spot to build my castle! Translation: We’re totally sold! Proof is we spend two hours hiking around the area, alternating between forests, reeds, and cozy houses tastefully decorated for Christmas.
Hi everyone, I’m Patrick, 67 years old, a seasoned traveler (already 22 trips outside Europe).
In autumn 2025, I took my first 3-week trip to Japan, with stops in Tokyo, Kamakura, Matsumoto, Kamikochi, Takayama, Kanazawa, Kyoto, Nara, Osaka, Koyasan, Tokyo again, and Nikko.
I wanted to go back in May 2026 and explore some lesser-known places to complement my first trip.
Last year, there were four of us traveling together to discover Japan (a fairly classic itinerary). This time, I’ll be traveling solo for part of the trip and with a couple of French friends for the rest.
The weather was gorgeous in May, averaging around 25°C, with two very hot days in Kyoto and only two rainy days.
As usual, I organized everything myself, gathering plenty of information from various sites, including this one.
Transportation:
An ICOCA card is essential.
I got a 5-day Kansai-Hiroshima pass because I took the shinkansen between Hiroshima and Osaka three times, and it paid for itself quickly.
Accommodations:
Mostly through Booking. No issues at all. Average cost was 46 € per night.
Meals:
For breakfast, I alternated between buying food at a konbini to eat in my room or on the train and grabbing something at local cafés.
For lunch and dinner, I tried to vary my meals as much as possible—lots of sashimi, sushi, and ramen.
Okonomiyaki in Osaka and Hiroshima.
Oysters in every form (raw, grilled, fried) in Onomichi and Hiroshima.
A variety of seafood (shrimp, shellfish) in Hiroshima and Matsumoto.
Fish whose names often escaped me, but notably mackerel and eel (unagi).
Tempura and gyoza.
Chicken skewers (yakitori) and one teppanyaki meal.
One omakase meal (9 different dishes).
In the end, not much meat aside from a few yakitori skewers. No splurges on super expensive wagyu or Kobe beef.
Average dinner cost: 4,800 yen, drinks included.
The Itinerary:
Day 1: Departure from Brussels
Day 2: Arrival in Osaka
Day 3: To Himeji, then Kurashiki
Day 4: To Fukuyama, then Tomo no Ura, then Onomichi
Day 5: Cycling the Shimanami Kaido
Day 6: To Takahara, then Hiroshima
Day 7: To Kyoto to attend the Aoi Matsuri parade
Day 8: To Miyajima
Day 9: Hiroshima, then Kyoto
Day 10: Southern Kyoto
Day 11: Northern Kyoto
Day 12: Final day in Kyoto, then to Nagatsugawa
Day 13: Start of the Nakasendo Trail (Magome to Tsumago)
Day 14: Second day of the trail (Kiso Fukushima)
Day 15: Third day of the trail (Narai), then Matsumoto
Day 16: To Mt. Fuji (Kawaguchiko)
Day 17: To Tokyo
Day 18: Excursion to Enoshima and Kamakura
Day 19: Flight home, with a 10-hour layover in Hong Kong
Day 20: Arrival in Brussels
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while.
When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing.
The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo.
But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip.
And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.
So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays:
- 3 nights in St Lucia
- 1 night in Hluhluwe
- 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini)
- 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini)
- 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti)
- 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve
- 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie
All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.
I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).
To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.
Here we go!!!
I left home at 4 AM on October 31st and headed to Barcelona. Driving through Barcelona on the ring road stresses me out a bit, but at 6 AM the traffic is smooth, and I arrive at the airport without any issues. I call the valet, who quickly comes to pick up my car. He takes photos of it from all angles before letting me go.
Baggage check-in hasn’t started yet, and there are already several of us waiting.
Once free, everything happens very quickly. The flight to Abu Dhabi is on time and goes smoothly. I’ve never had any problems with this airline, which I’ve been using for several years.
The flight to Bangkok arrives at 7 AM as scheduled. This is my first time in Thailand and Bangkok. I’m used to traveling in India, and I notice that everything here is well organized—the customs process is quick, and the luggage is already on the carousel.
I booked a taxi on Booking. All I have to do is find the right exit and door based on the agency’s instructions. A large sign with the names of people who booked is posted on a wall. A hostess greets me and calls the taxi, which arrives 5 minutes later. I booked one night at the Lost Inn BKK hotel in the Phra Nakhon district, and we arrive at 9 AM. The welcome isn’t warm, and I have to wait until noon, sitting on a chair, before I can check into my room. I’m exhausted, and sleeping sitting up isn’t ideal. Noon finally arrives—the room is small but clean, which is fine for one night. I quickly take a shower to wake up because I plan to spend the afternoon visiting the Grand Palace. First, I need to exchange some money, and the banks are all close together on the same street, which is very convenient. When I enter one, a hostess gives me a ticket and invites me to sit down. There are about twenty counters, and I wait quietly until my number is called. The exchange is quick, so I can head out to find the Royal Palace. It’s actually very easy, and the walk is pleasant.
Entry to the Royal Palace (500 baht).
It’s magnificent and grand, and there are quite a few of us visiting. The sky is gray, it’s very humid, and a shower interrupts the visit. It’s a vast complex of temples and palaces. The buildings are colorful and sparkling, with a great sense of serenity (without the tourists, of course). I quietly enjoy the place and try to take photos without tourists, which isn’t easy.
Very close to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, one of the oldest Buddhist temples in the capital.
It’s very famous for its 46-meter-long reclining Buddha statue.
Walking around the temple, you can see different representations of Buddha, all covered in gold leaf.
Inside the temple, on one side, monks recite their prayers, while the other side is reserved for tourists who come to meditate in silence.
Before returning to the hotel, I have dinner at an Indian restaurant. I go to bed early because tomorrow’s wake-up call will be very early again.
Saturday, November 2nd
Wake-up at 4 AM, departure from the hotel at 4:30 AM. The taxi I booked via Booking is waiting for me and takes me to the airport. The trip is fairly quick—he takes small roads, and at this hour, there’s no traffic.
The flight to Phnom Penh is on time. Before boarding, I realize I left my fleece jacket on the carousel, but it’s too late to go back for it.
The flight goes well, and customs is quick.
At the exit, I take a tuk-tuk to Julieka’s GH near the museum. The welcome is friendly. I won’t be able to check into my room until noon, so I take the opportunity to exchange some euros on the market street. The street is lined with restaurants, and I’ll have my first meal there.
The museum is right across the street, so I don’t waste any time visiting it.
The representations of Hindu deities are very different from those in India, and I don’t recognize them. Many beautiful Buddhas are on display.
The museum is very pleasant, and there aren’t too many people, which is a plus.
At the exit, I return to the GH, settle into my room—which is decent and clean.
The Royal Palace is 1 km away. I walk along a garden, and at the end of the street is the Tonlé Sap, but I turn right. I arrive at a large esplanade and see the buildings with tiered roofs and glazed tiles. The entrance to the palace is a little further away.
At the entrance, I notice there isn’t the same crowd as at the one in BKK.
Khmer architecture is magnificent. The complex consists of gardens, palaces, pagodas with golden roofs, and slender spires.
The Silver Pagoda houses the small Emerald Buddha, which is actually made of jade. The silver flooring is covered with carpets. Photos are not allowed.
The walls surrounding the pagoda are covered with frescoes depicting scenes from the Ramayana.
My partner and I traveled from Sunday, July 5, 2026, to Wednesday, July 22, 2026.
We spent a long time debating whether to rent a car or use public transportation. In the end, after reading so many posts about travelers getting scammed by police or rental companies—even those recommended by blogs and reviews—we decided to stick with public transport. It worked out really well. Sure, we had a little less freedom to go where we wanted, but it was way less stressful for us.
Sunday, July 5:
Arrived at Cancun Airport. Withdrew cash from the ATM in the terminal just before exiting. The ADO bus counter (they pronounce it "A-Jee-O") is right behind you when you're facing the ATM. Bus to downtown Cancun cost 145 pesos per person.
Stayed at "Rose 5," booked on Booking. The studio was super clean and perfect for one night. The owner’s instructions for accessing the place were very precise, with photos included. Check-in was self-service with a code. The ADO bus terminal isn’t far, and there are shops and restaurants nearby. We really appreciated that the AC was already on when we arrived. By the way, I’d recommend always booking places with AC—it’s *really* hot in Mexico.
Monday, July 6:
Bought a SIM card with data from a TELCEL store. My partner, who’s on Free Mobile, was able to use her regular plan. Just so you know, I found the network pretty unstable. As soon as we left the cities, neither of us—me with TELCEL or her with Free—had any signal.
Another thing to watch out for: roaming charges. I had to turn my SIM back on for less than 30 seconds to get a bank SMS code, and my phone apparently connected to the internet—resulting in an 8-euro roaming fee.
Left on an ADO bus to Chiquila for 278 pesos per person. During our trip, ADO buses were always on time, comfortable, and clean. The AC is *cranked* though, so bring something to cover up with—it gets cold. Some routes were fully booked even in the low season, so try to reserve 1 or 2 days in advance either via the app (when it works) or at the counter.
When we arrived at the ADO terminal in Chiquila, the ferry company counters were right next to it. Ferries leave every 30 minutes, alternating between companies, so no need to book ahead. Just take whichever one is leaving next (330 pesos per person).
When we got to Holbox (pronounced "Hol-bosh"), we’d booked a place via Booking called "Casa de Nana." It was a huge studio with a fridge, cooking plate, and utensils. The best part? The *location*. It was 100 meters from the beach and 200 meters from a Chedraui supermarket. They provided bath towels and beach towels, and the AC worked perfectly. There’s a key box so you can leave your keys inside when you go out. The only downside was that no one was there to let us in when we arrived, so we had to wait a while. The Wi-Fi was good, which was lucky because during our 4-day stay in Holbox, the phone network *never* worked. According to locals, that’s pretty common in Holbox, along with water outages.
Luckily, I’d had the good idea to download an offline map, which helped us find our way back to the place more easily. You can walk there from the dock.
The restaurant next to our place (La Barracuda) was great if you like seafood—I’d recommend their octopus dishes.
Tuesday, July 7:
We did a kayak tour in Holbox’s mangroves at 6 AM. We were looking for a sunrise kayak tour with a French-speaking guide. That’s exactly what we got with "Kayaking Holbox," where Diego, the owner, speaks English and French. He was joined by Gustavo, another guide.
We’d booked for a group tour, but we were the only ones. Diego still went ahead with it instead of canceling due to lack of participants, so we got a private tour at the group rate—really professional of him. They showed us this amazing ecosystem for over 3 hours. We saw all kinds of birds: pink flamingos, pelicans, egrets, frigatebirds... rays, a horseshoe crab, and a little crocodile that was *so* well hidden. Diego and Gustavo have a real eye for spotting animals—I could’ve passed by the crocodile 100 times and never seen it, it blended in so well. Their explanations about the flora and fauna were super interesting. We also got a little break where we tasted mangoes and bananas that taste *nothing* like the ones in France. A real treat—those little Mexican yellow mangoes! I’d definitely recommend Diego and his agency for a French-language kayak tour (1000 pesos per person).
In the evening, we walked to Punta Coco to see the bioluminescence. No need for a guided tour—if you really don’t want to walk, you can take a taxi. At Punta Coco, you have to pass the beach bar/restaurant and then go left into a kind of inlet that forms a lagoon. You have to wiggle your feet or move your hands in the water to create movement, which makes the light appear. Just don’t expect the kind of photos you’ve seen online—they’re all edited! It’s fun to see, but you won’t be dazzled by the light...
Wednesday, July 8:
Whale shark tour with "My Holbox Tours." Why recommend this agency over others for swimming with whale sharks? Simply because Valérie surrounds herself with top professionals to make your experience unforgettable. We were with Captain Fernando, who does everything to position the boat perfectly and make your swim easier. In the water, we were with Humberto, who also goes above and beyond to make sure you have an incredible time. He doesn’t just "supervise" like some guides from other companies who leave you on your own. No, Humberto reads the whale shark’s trajectory and guides you—all you have to do is follow him. He really puts in the effort, even holding your hand to guide you through this quick but intense encounter. Humberto also films the moment and will offer to show you the videos and sell them to you. His footage is really high quality.
Fernando and Humberto also prepared food for us. Special mention for their guacamole! Valérie is there to make sure everything goes smoothly on the boat and to answer your questions in French, English, or Spanish about these animals. If you choose My Holbox Tours, you can be sure you’ll get a top-notch experience.
About the tour itself: before you go, you should know that the sharks can be *really* far away. The day we went, it took 3.5 hours by boat to reach them. The boats are small, and let me tell you—on the way there, when we weren’t going with the waves, it was *rough*. Out of 9 passengers, 4 got seasick. But once you’re face-to-face with the shark, you forget all about that. Even if swimming with a whale shark isn’t exactly a walk in the park—they swim pretty fast, so you need some endurance to keep up. You’ll usually get 2 turns. Our first swim lasted a little over 4 minutes, and the second about 2 minutes because the shark was moving fast and we were still tired from the first swim. It might seem short, but when you’re swimming, it feels *long*. Either way, it’s an experience you *have* to do—but choose your company wisely. On the way back, there’s a stop at Cabo Catoche. Honestly, the snorkeling is pretty disappointing if you’ve done it elsewhere in the world. But the lunch stop at Cabo Catoche is really nice for relaxing (white sand and hammocks).
Thursday, July 9:
Short morning walk to Punta Mosquito at 6 AM. Really nice.
Ferry to Chiquila (330 pesos per person) + ADO bus to Valladolid (300 pesos per person).
In Valladolid, we booked "Casa Lucia" via Booking. The hotel is gorgeous, with a colonial style, and very close to the ADO bus terminal and downtown. It’s super quiet and clean. There’s a shared kitchen you can use with a fridge, microwave, and water dispenser, plus a big table by the pool and a nice indoor terrace. Breakfast was simple but included. The only small downsides were the tiny room and bathroom, no mirror in the room, and a noisy fan.
Friday, July 10:
Not far from the ADO bus terminal is the colectivo station for Chichen Itza. They offer a round-trip to Chichen Itza with an option to stop at Ik Kil cenote on the way back and then drop you off in Valladolid for 370 pesos per person (Ik Kil entrance included).
For the Chichen Itza visit, we’d booked a tour with a guide often mentioned in groups—his name is Juan Pat. He’s a Maya who lives near the site and speaks excellent French. He reserves spots in advance for you and queues up to be the first on-site. It cost 500 pesos per person + entrance fees. His tour lasts 2 hours and focuses mainly on the main pyramid and the ball court. He’s passionate and fascinating, even if some of his claims, as a Maya, might be a little biased. I think it’s *really* important to have a guide—otherwise, you’ll miss so much. You can contact Juan Pat on WhatsApp at +52 985 121 2381.
Afterward, we went to Ik Kil cenote (showers and life jackets mandatory, lockers available). It’s *very* crowded, but still really beautiful with its lush vegetation.
Saturday, July 11:
Since we didn’t have a car but still wanted to visit other cenotes that seemed hard to reach by public transport, we decided to book a taxi for the day. We agreed on 1200 pesos to take us to 3 different cenotes and wait for us at each one. (To find taxis, just look where they park near the ADO bus station.)
He picked us up at Zaci cenote, which we’d walked to. We got there at opening time and were the first ones there—had the place to ourselves for a while! 150 pesos per person. A pretty cenote in the city center with lush vegetation. It’s a bit like Ik Kil but without the deep cylindrical effect.
Cenote Xcanahaltun: the most beautiful cenote we visited. Entry 250 pesos per person. It’s a closed cenote with a hole that lets light in—a cave-like setting. You can kayak inside. There are little fish at the edge that nibble dead skin off your feet. Since it’s closed, the water is *freezing*!
Cenote Palomitas: entry 250 pesos per person. Another stunning closed cenote, even more enclosed than Xcanahaltun. The hole in the ceiling is smaller, so it was pretty dark when we arrived—kind of an eerie vibe. But when the staff turned on the lights, it looked like a "Gothic cathedral" full of bright stalactites.
Cenote Sac Aua: entry 290 pesos per person. The ticket includes a guided cave tour (tip-based). This cenote is really unique with its central island and way less crowded than Suytun. Just so you know, the water is *really* cold in cenotes. In these three, in July, we had the place to ourselves for a while and never saw more than 2 families at once—so peaceful!
Sunday, July 12:
ADO bus to Bacalar (536 pesos per person).
In Bacalar, we stayed via Airbnb with a host named Luli, who offers several rooms with shared bathroom and kitchen.
The room is nicely decorated in a pleasant setting. It’s ideally located near the lagoon and downtown. The shared kitchen is handy. The mosquito net over the bed is useful because there are *a lot* of mosquitoes in Bacalar. Luli provides a water jug, which is really nice. The only big downside is the lack of water pressure in the shower—we had to rinse off by filling a bucket. Also, there’s no real door separating the room from the bathroom. We never met Luli in person, but she was very responsive via messages. The terrace in the middle of the vegetation is lovely.
From the ADO terminal to the place, we took a taxi for 40 pesos. Since this driver was honest about the price (we’d checked beforehand), we decided to use him every time we needed a taxi in Bacalar. Here’s his WhatsApp: +52 983 184 3585.
Monday, July 13:
We did a boat tour on the lagoon with "Bacalar Francophone Activities." Since we were just the two of us, it cost 3500 pesos. If we’d managed to be 4 people, it would’ve been 1000 pesos per person.
We had a private 4-hour tour on the lagoon with Steeve and his very comfortable boat. He’s from Quebec, so his French is perfect. During those 4 hours, Steeve showed us the lagoon’s iconic spots *and* places other boats don’t go. He told us about the lagoon’s history and gave great tips on where to go and where to eat. As a little bonus, he gave us a video taken with his drone during our swimming break.
Tuesday, July 14:
We went to Los Rapidos by taxi (400 pesos round trip) and entry was 225 pesos per person. It’s *very* touristy but really beautiful. You can eat there (expensive), relax, and go down the "rapids" as many times as you want. It’s worth it if you spend a few hours there. You can’t bring in food or drinks—you leave them at the entrance and pick them up on the way out.
Wednesday, July 15:
On Wednesdays, navigation is banned on Bacalar Lagoon, so we’d planned another excursion.
Visit to Calakmul from Bacalar with ABCtours (WhatsApp +52 983 319 8359).
This agency organized a trip from Bacalar to Calakmul with a French-speaking guide. Communication beforehand via WhatsApp was smooth. Mr. Checo, the driver, and Fernando, the guide (who spoke great French), picked us up on the day. Mr. Checo drove very carefully on the long road and always made sure we were comfortable. Fernando is passionate about flora and fauna—he’s a biologist with a degree in ornithology, so he knows *everything* about animals. The slightest sound or song, and he knows what it is. He’s got an eye for spotting them, from the biggest to the smallest.
During the trip, we stopped at km 27 for a short forest walk, then went to see the two main pyramids on the site. On the way back, we stopped at the bat cave for the magical spectacle of millions of bats flying out at dusk. In the end, we saw or glimpsed (some briefly) spider monkeys, howler monkeys, a toucan, 2 tapirs, turkeys, 2 deer, and lots of birds. If, like us, you’re more into flora and fauna than archaeology, I’d *highly* recommend this agency and tour with Fernando.
It’s not cheap, but the road between Bacalar and the site is *long* (3.5 hours). Price: 3900 pesos per person for 2 (3500 for 3, 3200 for 4).
Thursday, July 16:
ADO bus to Playa del Carmen (614 pesos per person).
In Playa del Carmen, we stayed in an Airbnb. The building is on the town hall square, next to the casino.
The best thing about this place is the *location*—super close to Fifth Avenue (La Quinta). The kitchen is pretty basic, but the fridge works well. There are supermarkets nearby. The rooftop pool is really nice. The two big downsides, though, are the soundproofing (you can *hear* the neighbor’s alarm and all the events on the square) and the *total* lack of water pressure in the shower. We had to fill a trash can with water to pour over ourselves. When we told the owner, he said it wasn’t normal and someone would come fix it, but we never heard back. Based on previous reviews, this seems to be a known issue that never gets resolved.
Playa del Carmen is *very* touristy on Fifth Avenue, but in a fun, musical vibe—we never felt unsafe. There are *tons* of little souvenir shops for tourists on this street. There’s a beautiful monumental sculpture on the beach (the two figures meeting in the air), next to which you can see the Voladores show (men climbing a pole, tying themselves with ropes, and descending headfirst while "flying" around the pole). The show is tip-based and happens several times a day. In our opinion, Calle 38 is prettier than Fifth Avenue—it’s lush, green, and quieter, with the sea at the end. Great for an early evening stroll. We had really good meals at great prices at "El Tio Noy" tacos, just a few meters from Fifth Avenue in a side street.
For souvenirs, we’d recommend going to Walmart instead of Fifth Avenue—you’ll find skulls, tequila, mezcal, keychains, mugs, glasses... at good, fixed prices.
Friday, July 17:
We did the excursion to Isla Contoy. Isla Contoy is an uninhabited, highly protected island. Only 200 people are allowed to land per day on a rotating basis, so only a few companies have permission to dock there. Most agencies subcontract the day to a third-party company.
We booked through VRM (Viviendo Riviera Maya), but it was Ocean Tours Mexico that handled the tour. Contoy is a little paradise. We were accompanied by multilingual guides, including French speakers, throughout the day. Steffy gave us info about the island during a short walk on the marked trails, and Leño Tlatemoa kept the mood up on the boat rides with music and dancing. Isla Contoy is *truly* stunning, and the lunch was delicious: grilled fish and chicken, guacamole and tortilla chips, rice, fruit, drinks (everything is brought and taken back by the guides). The snorkeling part was pretty disappointing if you’ve done it in Cozumel, though. The stop at Isla Mujeres isn’t very interesting either—it’s too short to explore, and the island is *extremely* touristy. Still, the excursion was very well organized, and we had a great day (2970 pesos per person).
Saturday, July 18:
We wanted to go snorkeling in Cozumel but thought the prices from French-speaking agencies were too high. Plus, for snorkeling, we figured we didn’t *need* a French-speaking guide.
So we found a much cheaper solution by taking the ferry from Playa del Carmen ourselves and choosing an agency in Playa. The round-trip ferry cost 663.50 pesos per person. Then we took a taxi to the snorkeling boat (100 pesos). The agency we chose is called Mystic Snorkel—they don’t have a physical office. The tour cost 1400 pesos per person. It was a small boat, but that day we were the only ones, so we got a private tour at the group rate. We stopped at 4 different sites, all very different and beautiful. We saw all kinds of fish, corals, a nurse shark, and turtles. El Cielo, with its huge starfish, is *exceptional*. If you’re going snorkeling in the Yucatan Peninsula, this is *the* tour to do—the other sites are pretty "poor" in comparison.
Sunday, July 19:
Morning dive with Triton Diving. I chose the Cozumel dive option. Great experience.
Booking via WhatsApp was easy. On the day of the dive, Selene, who speaks French, was our guide. She’s *very* attentive to the group’s safety. The briefings are clear and precise. In Cozumel, we did 2 very different sites: the first was a drift dive with lots of life—beautiful corals and fish. The second was a wreck, the C53, a 56-meter boat you can enter. Not much marine life, but a beautiful wreck intentionally sunk for divers—still in great condition. An unforgettable moment. Selene even took videos during the dive, which the club sends you for free afterward. I’d *highly* recommend this club.
Just so you know, in Playa del Carmen, the beaches were full of sargassum during our stay, despite barriers and daily cleanup. Locals told us the problem is getting worse and the sargassum is arriving earlier in the season. Tourism has taken a *big* hit this summer, and they’re wondering if tourism can even survive the sargassum season anymore. A lot of tourists are heading to the islands—Isla Mujeres and Cozumel—to enjoy the beaches, as the west side of those islands is sargassum-free.
Monday, July 20:
Colectivo to Puerto Morelos. First, a colectivo toward Cancun that drops you off between Puerto Morelos town and Puerto Morelos beach (40 pesos per person), then another from that junction to the beach (10 pesos per person).
In Puerto Morelos, we’d booked a room via Airbnb at "Piedra del Caribe." *Best* place we stayed in Mexico. It’s an aparthotel. Our room was ready before check-in, so they let us in early. The place matched the description—spacious, with a comfortable king-size bed. The shower had *great* pressure, which isn’t a given in Mexico. The staff was super friendly and welcoming. They let us use the pool, restrooms, and rooftop shower after check-out while we waited for our ride to Cancun Airport. They even kept our luggage. I *highly* recommend this place.
In Puerto Morelos, there was *way* less sargassum than in Playa del Carmen—it was actually swimmable.
We did the snorkeling tour with the fishermen’s cooperative for 450 pesos per person for 2 hours. The reef is close to the beach (you’re not allowed to swim there), so the boat ride is short. It’s not as pretty as Cozumel, but it’s nice and affordable. On Puerto Morelos’s page, you can also access a small, not-very-well-preserved reef. There’s also a cenote in the sea where fresh water mixes with saltwater—the water is murky there. We had a great dinner and excellent cocktails at "La Choza del Puerto."
Tuesday, July 21:
Wandered around Puerto Morelos (check out the church and read everything—it’s entertaining!), relaxed by the hotel pool, and left for Cancun Airport by taxi (400 pesos) booked via InDrive to head back to France.
Our highlights:
- Holbox
- The whale shark tour
- The cenotes
- The local flora and fauna (so present!)
- Isla Contoy
- Cabo Catoche (except for the snorkeling)
What we liked least:
- The bioluminescence (barely visible despite good conditions)
- The food—we found it not very diverse in taquerias
- The constant tipping
- The lack of water pressure in showers (fixed, wall-mounted, no hose or showerhead)
Don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions while it’s still fresh in our minds.
Traveling with just one spare pair of underwear, considering a hot shower a miracle, never staying in the same place too long by sleeping wherever night catches us, taking whatever local, improbable, and rickety transport we can find—this is the DNA of us wanderers. Except this time, the script for our movie is going to be a whole different genre. On paper, the destination doesn’t exactly scream epic adventure: Réunion! And what’s more... we won’t be two, or four, or even ten. We’ll be a solid thirty. All from the same family. Yes, thirty. At this point, it’s not just a trip—it’s a summer camp on the move! Why inflict this on such a peaceful island? Because my brother decided to get married there with his lovely bride. A great idea, you might say... especially when it involves relocating the equivalent of a small Ardennes village 10,000 kilometers from home for three weeks! So who’s stepping up to be the guide and wave the little flag?
So, for an exceptional trip, exceptional stories! Don’t worry, the debates at the supermarket over whether to choose plain chips or roast chicken chips, the beach picnics washed down with ti’ punch, and other rougail sausages to digest by the pool will only make it into the family archives. Here, I’ll stick to the tales of our beautiful escapes, the ones where we explore the wild corners of this little volcanic rock planted in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So where exactly are we headed?
For the first week—the subject of this first installment—we’re taking it easy. We’ll start by rediscovering the coastline, from the Souffleur in Saint-Leu to the Hermitage lagoon, before a little trip to the Cirque de Cilaos and its legendary road with 400 turns, just to get our legs warmed up.
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style.
All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of three years at most in Thailand, and I’m not a big expert on the country.
However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to piece together a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who miss it.
I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.
I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guards for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course.
Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious.
Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big property, be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t really made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons.
That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though, are much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been broken for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the side of the road, sometimes right on the road. When you arrive, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, which reminds visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. Seeing a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you might think it’s best not to cross paths with them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at temples on the brink of death, enduring terrible suffering. No one did anything about it. The image (and the smell) of one of them, dying and emitting the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The well-fed animal quickly became a happy, enormous beast with its own garden. Yet, it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water in them for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not a gimmick—it’s just that these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
It was winter, a winter with beautiful weather,
A season that only exists in the southwest of America,
I remember very well what I told you that morning
A month ago... A century ago, an eternity ago...
We’ll go... wherever you want, whenever you want...
Well, yeah, back from our adventure in our enchanting American West just a month ago, we’re already taking a bite out of one of its lesser-known competitors. "Flo, if you had to pick just one reason to justify your love for the U.S., what would it be?" The greasy, dripping burgers? No, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by saying it’d be the wide-open spaces... And that’s exactly what our new quest is taking us to—a land on the other side of the globe where the horizon also seems endless, where silence tastes like salty wind and sand, where freedom is measured in kilometers of desert tracks, where the GPS is mostly there to confirm you’re lost in the middle of nowhere... Add to that magic formula the fact that you’ll see more zebras, giraffes, wildebeest, and elephants than people per square kilometer, and you can imagine us setting foot in Southern Africa for the first time, more precisely at the small airport in Windhoek, capital of... of...? Brush up on your geography, damn it! We’re landing in Namibia!!!
To be honest, Namibian landscapes have been flirting with me for ages. So how did I resist this island of temptation for so long? First, the budget. Let’s just say that for the same amount of effort (and kidneys), the bank lets you choose two other adventures almost anywhere else on the planet. Then there were my girls. Yeah, back then, they were too little to dose up on Malarone, the only malaria remedy at the time... Long story short, ten years later, all the planets have aligned. First, I won the Euromillions! Well, almost... Let’s just say my girls are now old enough... not to take Malarone, but to stop following me on all my adventures! Jackpot! "Flo, how about a little two-person caprice, just the two of us, tackling the Namibian tracks?"
As we landed on the runway, first wow effect: The horizon is immense. It’s flat as can be, incredibly flat... So much flat space! Did I mention it was flat?... Looking into the distance, it feels like your gaze could circle the Earth without hitting a single obstacle—until you end up staring at your own backside. "Oh, what a nice view!" Well, it’s the first time I’ve seen my butt from this angle! Touching moment... Sorry, I’m rambling—must be the exhaustion from the three-flight marathon we just powered through via Ethiopia and South Africa... And yet, no time to philosophize about my anatomy. As usual, we want to rack up our first kilometers to be front and center at dawn tomorrow. After wrapping up the tedious Namibian immigration formalities and meeting the 4x4 that’ll be our companion day and night for the next fifteen days, we’re off! We’re not exactly fresh, but we’re ready to tackle the next five hundred kilometers in night mode, cruise control set due south! Just outside Windhoek, the local wildlife—a jackal—welcomes us with a smile: "Welcome to Namibia!" That’s what it said! Honest... Okay, first endless straight road, first flaming sunset, first corrugated dirt track, first Milky Way with zero light pollution... You get it—it’s definitely the day of firsts... First night camping, too, in the big trunk of our Toyota Fortuner parked by the side of the track... The real adventure, the kind that smells under the arms, can finally begin...
Here we go—finally, the big day has arrived! A trip the whole family (my two kids, my husband, and me) had been looking forward to for so long.
To keep it short, we left from Nice, arrived in Namibia on June 25, 2025, and left again on the 21st—four weeks later.
We used an agency for all the camping reservations, activities, and the car rental. At least that side of things was taken care of. Michaël was our contact throughout the planning and the trip itself.
We spent our first night at Londiningi BB. A bit out of the city center but very quiet. The rooms were spacious and clean, and we could eat on-site that evening. Perfect for recovering from the flight.
This travel journal is our second on VoyageForum, following last year’s where we recounted our four weeks in Vietnam.
The goal remains the same: since some members on this site share tips, experiences, and great deals that help us prepare for our trips, we do the same after returning—both to give back a little and in the hope that our experiences might be useful to others in some way.
Our route was as follows: Bangkok, Siem Reap, Krabi, Suratthani, Koh Phangan, Koh Tao, Chumphon, Bang Saphan, Prachuab Khiri Khan, Sam Roi Yod, Hua Hin, Phetchaburi, Bangkok.
Beyond rediscovering Bangkok, our objectives were the long-held dream of seeing Angkor and exploring southern Thailand, much of which isn’t overly touristy.
A quick big thank-you to Barbot, who took the time to answer several of our questions.
12/07/2013
The cheapest flight we found earlier this year was a Paris-Bangkok route with a layover in Moscow for 1440 €, total for two people.
So, this time we tried Aeroflot. Airbus A318 for the first leg, A330 for the second. Nothing particularly annoying to report—the passengers were very calm, the cabin temperature was comfortable, and we had enough legroom.
That said, the quality of the meal trays was pretty mediocre, and the flight attendants weren’t exactly comedians.
We’d like to remind everyone that it’s best to exchange as little money as possible at the airport upon arrival, since the rate is about 5% worse than at city banks.
Of course, we made sure to take the airport exit where you can catch official taxis to avoid getting scammed. So, we queued up, a little lady gave us the ticket, and off we went with the driver.
Generally, this system works well because these drivers are registered, know their duties, and the risks they face if they break the rules. Except that day, right off the bat, we got the scammer of the day. His first move was to snatch the ticket from my wife’s hands—the one you’re supposed to keep in case of a complaint. My husband saw it, but after a full day of travel, we were a bit out of it, and honestly, there was no reason to be suspicious. But once we started driving, the guy refused to turn on the meter. We insisted more and more firmly, but nothing. So, I used the famous method of opening the door and starting to step out of the car. At 40 km/h, that scares the driver more than the passenger. He finally turned on the meter, but that didn’t calm him down—quite the opposite. For the next half-hour, he ruined the ride by demanding extra fees here and there. Having dealt with several scam attempts last year in Vietnam, this wasn’t exactly new, and we were proud of ourselves for staying pretty zen. Still, this guy was a little scary—he was completely wired and aggressive. Honestly, it was hard not to think he was on something. He’d be perfect for a *Scarface* remake. When we finally arrived at the hotel, he followed us to the entrance. We paid the two tolls (25 and 45 baht), gave him the usual 100 baht extra for the ride, and stayed polite but firm. So, meter: 245 baht + 100 baht + 25 and 45 baht for tolls—we paid the exact amount, no way we were tipping this guy. He left furious, but he was already like that before picking us up... Anyway, avoid Mr. Chartree Chidchen, number 089 826 7308, car E2663!
We were so relieved to finally settle in at Feung Nakorn Balcony hotel in the temple district. 42 € per night, great reception, all the staff is friendly. The AC works fine, the bed seemed hard at first but turned out to be comfortable. The hotel is quiet, away from the nightlife, but at this time of year, many places are less crowded than in high season. Even with a nice fish pond and outdoor breakfast area, it’s a decent hotel, though we felt we could’ve found something better.
After a night on the plane, the first afternoon is always a bit of a slog. We napped for a few hours, and when we woke up—guess what—we were starving. We visited a temple across from the hotel (nothing special) and then decided to take the Chao Phraya Express, the river shuttle that serves many piers along the river. It was a really enjoyable experience. The steel gangway wobbles when you board and disembark, the boat sits low in the water, and sometimes you get splashed. During peak times, you’re packed in like sardines, but most of all, there’s that exotic urban landscape passing by, especially the temple rooftops.
At that exact moment, the boat was packed. We didn’t see a ticket booth at the pier, and we tried in vain to pay the few baht for the ride. The cashier on the boat was too busy, and another employee we called didn’t have time to help us. Oh well, we weren’t going to force the issue. Still, this mode of transport is super practical for avoiding traffic, and at the piers, the lines with station names are clearly marked, with colors matching the flags on the boats. Combined with a map like the *Routard* guide, it’s easy to navigate.
We easily made it to the restaurant *Harmonique*, located near one of these piers. It’s a unanimous favorite on this forum, and let us tell you—it’s well-deserved. What a wonderful experience that evening! We only saw the outdoor gazebo because there was no way we were dining inside. It’s not flashy, so those looking for a luxurious setting should look elsewhere.
That night, the staff was a bit slow, and we had to track them down several times to move things along. But oh, my friends—what a feast on the plate! Start with the appetizer platter for two at 250 baht, featuring four specialties, each more tempting than the last, followed by their famous crab curry for 200 baht. There’s *so much* crab in there! The dish is so delicious and rich that when you finish, you feel—how to put it—like it was almost *too* good, to the point where you’re almost put off eating for days. And also, oh yes, we *will* be back. Their satay chicken is just as amazing, and it would be a crime not to mention their generous dessert with ice cream, warm banana, and chocolate, plus their *excellent* almond milkshake.
Later, we took a taxi to Kao San Road, mainly to book a Ko Tao-Chumphon trip for 600 baht per person at the Lomprayah counter. In hindsight, we should’ve booked all three of our trips there right away.
Kao San Road is *ultra*-touristy—better for younger crowds, but it’s still worth seeing. There’s rock ‘n’ roll, hippies, and crowds everywhere.
We walked back to the hotel, and when we got a little lost near a canal, a really nice older Thai man spontaneously appeared out of the night to kindly point us in the right direction.
Finally, a real long night of sleep ahead—we cranked up the AC. Sweet, the vacation has begun!
Hi there,
I just got back from a trip to Sri Lanka from December 18th to January 1st with 2 adults and 2 kids (12 years old).
If it helps, here’s my itinerary.
We left on December 18th from Madrid with Qatar Airways. No complaints. I booked my tickets back in March for 800 € per person. (I flew from Madrid because I live near the Spanish border and was too worried about strikes in France.)
We arrived on December 19th at 4 PM (local time). Before leaving France, I’d booked a taxi through MyTransfer for 59 € to Sigiriya. A van was waiting for us at the airport exit.
A never-ending 3-hour drive to Sigiriya. We stayed at Samana Guesthouse—very simple, clean, with a pool and an excellent Sri Lankan breakfast. Shower and straight to bed.
Friday, December 20th: Beautiful weather, but very humid and hot. We visited Lion Rock (36 € for adults) and then Pidurangala.
I loved both sites—they’re a must-do in my opinion.
Spent the late afternoon by the pool.
Saturday, December 21st: Another gorgeous day. The guesthouse manager offered us a free 2-hour tuk-tuk tour. We first visited a lake, rice fields, the temple, and the Sigiriya market, plus the usual tourist trap—the botanical garden (no pressure to buy anything at the end).
Then we took a tuk-tuk to Dambulla Temple, the Golden Buddha, and the wholesale market.
Sunday, December 22nd: Still beautiful weather. I’d booked a taxi for 8 AM. We did all the long trips by taxi to save time. I’d ask for prices from 2 or 3 WhatsApp taxi agencies 2 days or the day before—super responsive, always got replies within 5 minutes. We headed to Ella (4-hour drive) for 22,000 LKR.
Arrived in the afternoon at Rest Full Homestay—a small, family-run guesthouse. Clean, cozy, and an amazing Sri Lankan breakfast.
In the afternoon, we went to Nine Arches Bridge. It was a Sunday, a Sri Lankan holiday, so it was *packed*—mostly locals and very few white tourists! Even though it was crowded, it was cool because it was all Sri Lankans. We waited an hour for the train. It’s worth seeing, but honestly, I didn’t think it was that amazing.
Then we headed to the station to check if we needed to book tickets for the train to Haputale—turns out, no.
Monday, December 23rd: Beautiful weather. We hiked Ella Rock—a gorgeous trek. The final stretch is steep but shaded, so it wasn’t as tough as I’d read. The whole hike is stunning from start to finish. We saw the train pass twice (one blue, one red) and lots of women picking tea.
After that, we did Little Adam’s Peak. It’s not hard, but it was *packed* with tourists—meh. Luckily, at the top, you can walk a bit farther (down one side and back up) to get some space to yourself.
What I *didn’t* like was the commercial vibe at the big café/restaurant with a pool at the entrance of Little Adam’s Peak. Loud music, all that money being made right next to little souvenir stands run by Sri Lankans or tea-picking women. Felt off.
Ended the day buying souvenirs at one of the few shops we found during the trip.
Tuesday, December 24th: Beautiful weather. Took the train to Haputale. We got to the station 30 minutes before the 9:30 AM train. We could’ve taken 2nd or 3rd class—I went with 2nd (160 LKR per person).
It was crowded, but we managed to get seats—first 2, then 3. Only a 1-hour ride, but I *loved* it—windows and doors open the whole time.
Arrived in Haputale around 11 AM, and the mist was already rolling in.
We walked to our guesthouse, The Mist Holiday Bungalow. Simple but clean, with a great view of the tea plantations. The owner’s wife is Vietnamese and used to work for French tour operators, so her French is still pretty good—helpful for us since our English is terrible. They booked us a tuk-tuk for 4:45 AM the next day (2,000 LKR) to Lipton’s Seat.
Spent the afternoon wandering around Haputale. Not much charm, but there’s a nice fruit and veggie market and a short walk through the tea plantations.
Wednesday, December 25th: Beautiful weather. The tuk-tuk was on time to take us to Lipton’s Seat. We were the first ones there—the sky was just starting to turn pink. In the end, only about ten of us watched the sunrise. The guesthouse had packed us breakfast, and we walked back down (half on the road, half through the plantations). Didn’t see any tea picking since it was Christmas, but the walk was still incredible. We took detours through villages full of kids.
After that, we visited the tea factory. The tour was really interesting, and we took the bus back down to Haputale. Such a great moment—whole families were heading to mass, dressed up and made up. All so beautiful.
At noon, we left for Udawalawe National Park. Taxi for 14,000 LKR. Stayed at River Inn Safari Cottage. *Warning*: It’s the same place as Eagle Safari Cottage. I don’t recommend it. We’d always stayed with families before, but here it was just staff—totally different vibe. The pool was nice but not very clean (water was murky). The bungalow was big and fine, but it was brand new—so new the asphalt floor wasn’t fully dry. It’s in the middle of nowhere, so we had to eat on-site. Couldn’t leave a review on Booking because they never confirmed we’d stayed, and they canceled our reservation the next day.
Thursday, December 26th: Beautiful weather. I’d booked a safari through the hotel for 5:30–10 AM for 54 USD. Honestly, yes, there are a lot of jeeps, but it was great. The kids loved it—we saw everything there was to see.
Left by taxi at 11:30 AM for Welligama (12,000 LKR).
We didn’t stay in Welligama city but at Coconut Beach, between Welligama and Midigama. *Total crush* on the guesthouse: Sky Mountain Café with View. Such a lovely family. The mom makes amazing meals at reasonable prices. The view from the hill over the sea is unreal.
Spent the afternoon walking along the beach.
Friday, December 27th: Beautiful weather. My kids are surfers. Unfortunately, there weren’t any boards their size to rent at Coconut, so we took a tuk-tuk to Welligama Bay (1,000 LKR). They surfed from 8 AM to 5 PM—rental was 5,000 LKR for the day. Meanwhile, we walked the beach and swam. Water was 29°C.
Saturday, December 28th: Beautiful weather, rain from 4 PM until midnight. Same surf day. They were so well-behaved the whole trip, so this was their reward.
Sunday, December 29th: Beautiful weather. Beach day at Coconut. *Warning*: It’s a reef break. For surfers, there are three spots (Coconut Left, Middle, and Right). The boys bodysurfed (with fins) all morning, and at 1 PM, we took the bus to Hikkaduwa.
Stayed at Hotel Universal Beach. Nothing special—right on the water, but the rooms were dark even though they were clean. The manager was super nice, but the rest was meh, and breakfast was mediocre compared to what we’d had before (2 eggs and 3 slices of toast). Plus, it was late—8 AM.
First impression of Hikkaduwa wasn’t great—way too many Russians for our taste.
Monday, December 30th: Beautiful weather. Spent the whole day exploring. Turtle Beach, then the other side of the beach (toward Galle) near the fishing port. The beach there is much wider, with scattered hotels and super quiet. It’s beautiful—I should’ve booked somewhere in that area. Ended up having a great day away from the crowds.
Tuesday, December 31st: Overcast, then beautiful, rain at 4 PM. Had to end the year (and the trip) with some surf. Rented boards for the kids (3,000 LKR per board for the day). Bad luck—the waves were on a reef break but small. Not great for them, but no big deal. They still got out of the water by 2 PM. Walked the beach (which is gorgeous), had a juice, and went for a swim. Then back to surfing in the rain at 4 PM.
Wednesday, January 1st: Left by taxi at 5 AM (18,000 LKR). Flight at 10 AM. Arrived in Madrid at 8 PM.
I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).
So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!
We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice.
For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.
We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.
Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).
Day 1 – Paris to Lima
Foreword
I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.
Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).
Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.
As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.
Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.
Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”
This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...
Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.
Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!
La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.
Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.
Some practical info:
- The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side.
- We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €.
- The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen.
- Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day.
- Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.
Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Our first stop was just a few kilometers from Marrakech, at a lovely house perfect for relaxing and recharging before continuing. It’s called Bleu House, a little paradise on the outskirts of Marrakech. The welcome was very warm, with a beautiful pool and a lovely garden.
Next, we headed toward the Tichka Pass. The road has really improved in recent years—it’s much easier to drive now. No more getting stuck behind trucks, and today, the construction is practically finished.
Morocco has turned green after the recent rains. It’s a joy for the herds and shepherds.
I hesitated about writing this travel journal...
This summer, we only did the classics (the 3 northern parks and Zanzibar) and let a local agency take care of everything from start to finish.
No craziness, no risks, no sleeping under the stars, no self-drive, no venturing off the beaten path, no incidents, and not even any delays in the pre-planned itinerary...
But don’t think we were disappointed!
The whole family (there were 6 of us) came back with smiles and memories of great moments spent together.
So, if you're looking for a "classic" way to discover Tanzania, this is the place to be.
Our 2-week itinerary:
- Arusha (1 night upon arrival)
- Tarangire (1 night)
- Ngorongoro (2 nights in Karatu then Irmisigiyo)
- Serengeti (3 nights in Robanda, Togoro Plains, and Seronera)
- Zanzibar Stone Town (1 night)
- Zanzibar Matemwe (3 nights)
- Zanzibar Jambiani (3 nights)
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions...
So, now that I've just finished my Japan travel journal here, I figured it was high time to honor this destination we came back from so enchanted.
Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some!
Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!
I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to include fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to take her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can slip away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!
Anyway, since I love maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red); we only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband’s newly retired, I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.
In broad strokes, it was very classic:
First, we “settled in” at Luang Prabang (8 days), because we wanted and needed to.
From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we know, distances aren’t just about km!
Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4,000 Islands while stopping by the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites.
We wrapped up with the Bolaven Plateau.
A few practical notes: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having picked up our luggage in Bangkok to check it in for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized.
We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. Quick, but to be fair, we were on a “small” plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too crowded in line!
At the end of our trip, we didn’t fly out of Paksé but from the nearby airport in Thailand, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), then Bangkok and Paris.
You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the (Chinese) train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!
With that intro out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter.
To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang
It’s an ancient city that breathes, a living spring.
Here, no kitschy signs like “I miss you in Fengyu,” nor mass-produced fake antiques.
The century-old houses still bear the marks of wind and rain; in the morning, you hear roosters crowing, and at dusk, smoke gently rises from the kitchens.
This city doesn’t try to please anyone—like the spring water flowing through it, it simply keeps living at its own pace.
Located in Eryuan County, in the Dali Prefecture of Yunnan, the ancient town of Fengyu is a nationally designated historical and cultural city. It’s nicknamed the “land of scholars and ink”—during the Qing Dynasty, the Fengxiang Academy produced four *jinshi* and eleven *juren* in the imperial examinations. The Bai families made studying and farming a true legacy. Even on market days, you’ll find stalls of calligraphy and paintings, while lintels and screen walls are covered with family mottos.
Fengyu was also an important stop on the ancient Tea Horse Road. It preserves the second-largest Bai architectural complex in China, just after Xizhou. The famous traveler Xu Xiake spent seven days here and compared it to the “peach blossom paradise.”
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area).
In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
Preamble:
Africa was calling to me, so a year ago, with our usual travel companions, we decided to return to the continent we love so much.
Where to go?
Uganda quickly caught our attention—wildlife we’re used to seeing, plus gorillas and the shoebill we missed in Zambia.
We got in touch with Paul, who’s been mentioned several times on the forum back in September, booked our flight tickets, secured the gorilla permits, and by early October, the most important things were done.
We still had plenty of time to hold our "prep meetings" for the final itinerary.
Three days before departure, I sprained my ankle (my weak spot, as you’ll recall from our Colombia trip).
I wasn’t in great spirits, but after a year of waiting, nothing was going to stop me.
We’d see how it goes!
Off we went for our new adventures
If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!
Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with:
Zero preparation.
Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.
Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?
The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!
The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.
So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!
So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!
It often happens that we're asked what to visit in Belgium.
And the answers usually point to Bruges, Ghent, Antwerp, and Brussels—and rightly so, as these cities are well worth visiting ;).
However, Belgium, though small, isn’t just limited to these four cities.
I live in one of them (Brussels), enjoy spending time in the other three, but I’d like to highlight some lesser-known spots that could add to the trip for those who want to see a bit more or something different.
Between trips, I like exploring one or two corners of the country where I live.
Hence the idea for a travel journal of walks.
Most of the places I’ll talk about can be visited as a day trip from Brussels, whether by public transport or car.
In chronological order of the topics covered:
- The Gileppe Dam (Liège province) - message 2, page 1
- The Domaine de La Hulpe (Walloon Brabant) - message 3, page 1
- Mechelen (Antwerp province) - message 4, page 1
- The coast - message 5, page 1
- The Westhoek, from De Panne - message 6, page 1
- The Zwin, from Knokke - message 7, page 1
- Lier (between Mechelen and Antwerp) - message 8, page 1
- Mons (Hainaut) - message 9, page 1
- The Florenville region - message 12, page 1
- The East Cantons - message 13, page 1
- Dinant - message 18, page 1
- The Japanese garden in Hasselt - message 24, page 2
- Leuven - message 29, page 2
- Louvain-la-Neuve - message 32, page 2
- Ostend - message 42 (page 3) and message 166 (page 9)
- The floralies of Groot-Bijgaarden - message 43, page 3
- Halle Forest - message 44, page 3
- Pralines - message 54, page 3
- Charleroi - message 68, page 4
- Namur - message 92, page 5
- Le Bois du Cazier (Marcinelle) - message 95, page 5
- Couques and gosettes - message 96, page 5
- Liège - message 99, page 5
- Tournai - message 115, page 6
- Oudenaarde - message 121, page 7
- Meise Botanical Garden - message 124, page 7
- Tongeren - message 125, page 7
- Beersel Castle (Flemish Brabant) - message 126, page 7
- Brussels in lockdown (messages 150 and 154, page 8)
- Notre-Dame à la Rose Hospital in Lessines (messages 161 and 162, page 9)
- Westende (message 167, page 9)
I’ll keep updating this list as the journal progresses...