Hello,
après bien des années me revoilà sur le forum, il s'agit cette fois de mon dernier voyage aux USA, fin août et début septembre 2019 au travers une partie du nord du pays. Bonne lecture.
Il en aura fallu du temps, 6 ans depuis le dernier séjour aux US, pour pouvoir rassembler de nouveau quelques personnes ayant le temps et le cash nécessaire à la réalisation de ce trip depuis trop longtemps en attente. Je partirai donc avec ma copine en passagère et à nouveau le frangin comme compagnon de route.
Ainsi début 2019 les préparatifs commencèrent, réservation des motos, des ElectraGlides pour cette fois, histoire d’avoir suffisamment d’espace bagages pour 2 personnes. A nouveau réservé chez EG en passant par Cooldrive. Réservation des vols Zürich – Portland avec courte escale à Vancouver sur Air Canada pour l’aller et Chicago – Zürich avec Swiss pour le retour. Reste environ 200 jours à patienter avant le grand départ, durant lesquels on actualise notre ESTA, établissons un plan de guerre concernant le matériel à prendre et réservons l’hôtel à l’arrivée à Portland ainsi que les hébergements sur Yellowstone, attrait touristique oblige.
Et finalement arrive le grand jour, départ de Zürich aéroport à 10h05 direction Vancouver (Canada) où l’on se pose à 11h30 après 10h25 de vol avec Air Canada. Très bon vol, avion récent très bien équipé et personnel agréable. Après une escale de 2h où l’on passe directement la douane US dans l’aéroport de Vancouver on reprend un petit bimoteur pour 1h14 de vol. Magnifique survol des Monts Rainier, St Helens et Hood, majestueuses montagnes s’élevant au dessus des forêts nord-américaines avant l’atterrissage à Portland (OR) à 14h44. Plus de douane à passer du coup reste à prendre le train pour rejoindre le centre et le Park Lane Suites & Inn où l’on logera les 2 prochaines nuits. Hôtel placé à mi-chemin entre le centre et le jardin japonais, avec places de parc. Wifi peu fonctionnel dans l’annexe mais ok dans le lobby. Confort standard. Ensuite tranquille, quelques bières en terrasse et repas du soir friture à l’arrache avant une nuit difficile, décalage horaire oblige…
JOUR 1 : Nous voici au premier jour à proprement dit et il s’annonce chargé ! On se lève tôt et descente en ville pour un petit déj au Starbucks puis passage à l’Oregon State Office afin de se munir du précieux « America The Beautiful annual pass » qui vous donne accès pour la modique somme de 80$ à tous les monuments, parcs, forêts nationaux pour 2 motos / 4 personnes (Yellowstone est par exemple déjà 35$ et nous allons en faire un certain nombre). Suite de quoi on saute dans un Uber pour aller récupérer nos destriers pour les 3 prochaines semaines. Après quelques formalités et signatures d’usage, d’avoir convaincu le vieux râleur sexiste de l’agence d’inscrire ma chérie comme 2e conducteur et d’avoir compris comment fonctionnait la connexion Bluetooth parce qu’un bon roadtrip se fait avec une bonne playlist, nous voilà parti pour nos premiers tours de roues. Le soleil est bien présent et la température agréable, de quoi présager une excellente journée. Après un bout d’Interstate histoire de traverser la ville sans se faire ch*** on prend la WA14, magnifique route qui longe la Columbia River au bord de l’eau, jusqu’au Hood River Bridge qui est un pont à péage. Nous traversons pour tirer plein sud direction le Mont Hood. Le paysage change rapidement alors que la rivière fait place aux vignes et vergers, il y a l’embarras du choix pour une halte dégustation de vin ou cidre. Petit à petit les vergers s’éclipsent au profit de la forêt à mesure que l’on monte en direction de la montagne. La route est agréable de même que la température qui se rafraîchit avec l’altitude, on s’arrête manger dans un petit chalet au pied d’une station de ski avant de reprendre la US26 pour Portland et ses 35°C. Passage à l’hôtel afin d’enfiler des vêtements plus légers puis visite du magnifique Japanese Garden, de ses jardins zen, étangs et chutes d’eau. Pour le repas du soir je conseille vivement le North 45 Pub sur la 21st Avenue pour déguster de magnifiques plats de moules locales servies avec une baguette rustique dans le patio avec une bière et une bouteille de rouge. On a toujours testé les bières et vins locaux autant que disponibles. On essaie d’éloigner la fatigue le plus longtemps possible pour combattre se fichu décalage horaire avant de goûter à un repos bien mérité.
JOUR 2 : Plus de 5h de route en perspective alors on ne traîne pas. On quitte la ville par la I5 jusqu’à Woodland (WA) où un premier plein s’impose avant des régions bien moins fréquentées et donc plus de difficulté pour trouver du carburant. On suit la 503 puis la NFD25 direction le Mont St Helens. L’on retrouve à nouveau de splendides routes de montagne entre virages et forêts. Il faut néanmoins rester très prudent car l’état de la chaussée est parfois aléatoire, voir lamentable… Surtout ne pas rater le détour par la 99 qui vous mènera aux points de vue au dessus du Spirit Lake et pouvoir prendre une route extraordinaire pour découvrir les vestiges de la dernière grande éruption de ce volcan en 1980. Quantité d’arbres morts, couchés tous dans la même direction par le souffle de l’explosion vous donnent un aperçu apocalyptique du lieu. Puis on redescend direction Randle (WA) pour un bon burger au Mt Adams Cafe, établissement local, dans son jus. On repart sur la US12 puis les Rd123 et 410 le long du Mont Rainier pour rejoindre le Chinook Pass, là encore forêts et montagnes nous émerveillent avec leurs paysages, toujours en faisant gaffe aux nombreux pièges présents en quantité sur ces routes et qui se r��vèlent parfois au dernier moment entre les jeux de lumière et la pénombre des arbres. Enfin on rejoint Yakima (WA) étape pour la nuit. On crèche au Best Western Plus, j’en ai fréquenté de nombreux au fil de mes voyages et ça reste une valeur sûre, généralement avec buffet continental pour le petit déj compris. Un saut bienvenu dans la piscine intérieure puis notre intérêt se porte sur la Yakima Steak Company pour le repas du soir qui fut un très bon choix ! L’établissement présente très bien et le personnel était génial. La viande top, un crumble aux pêches (des vergers locaux) pour le dessert et surtout une sélection du sommelier qui vaut le détour. Notre serveur nous a conseillé un JB Neufeld Two Blondes Wineyards qui était le meilleur vin que l’on ait pu boire lors de notre trip et vraiment un excellent vin en général à un prix acceptable.
JOUR 3 : Voilà que la chance, ou plutôt le beau temps tourne. Ce matin il fait des gouttes sur nos brêles où une mante brune a pris position pour chasser les insectes. Nous la délogeons gentiment et décidons d’opter pour la I82 à la place de la 821 afin d’essayer de mettre de la distance entre nous et la cellule orageuse. Mais quelques kils plus loin il faut déjà s’arrêter pour enfiler les combis pluie, on prendra même une grosse averse sur le petit tronçon de I90. Puis la pluie s’arrête pour laisser place aux US97 et US2 où le paysage de collines semi désertiques supplantées d’éoliennes et de pylônes électriques géants laisse petit à petit place aux cultures céréalières. Quelques petites villes de l’ouest d’apparence peu animée et il ne reste plus qu’une route d’un noir profond, barrée de deux lignes du même jaune que les immenses champs à perte de vue. Parfois une vieille grange abandonnée, quelques machines agricoles rouillées ou un lourd camion de transport de grain vient entaché la bichromie jaune / gris de la terre et du ciel. Il y a quand même deux trois vallons ou canyons à passer afin de jouer un peu de la poignée avant d’atteindre Cœur d’Alene (ID), sympathique ville au bord d’un lac. Le Resort City Inn est très bien placé dans la rue principale à côté du centre ville. Le MoMo genre de resto jap / asiat nous permettra de nous rassasier avec des plats délicieux et des portions généreuses. Notre serveuse n’avait par contre aucune idée de comment fonctionnait un tire-bouchon… Il semble généralement rare que les gens commandent une bouteille avec le repas, ils se contentent d’un verre pour accompagner. Et quel verre ! Parfois vous avez droit à un verre à vin à pied, souvent pas, un verre à sirop, rempli jusqu’en haut, une bouteille faisant 3-4 verres mais on s’y fait vite… Tant que le breuvage est bon !
JOUR 4 : Le temps s’est amélioré ce matin, on espère faire la journée avec l’ami soleil, on se dirige vers le nord par la US95 puis l’est par la 200 le long du Lake Pend Oreille. Très bel itinéraire avec une surprise juste avant la frontière Idaho / Montana, une grande gravière le long de la route où reposent nombre d’épaves de la voiture de tourisme en passant par le pick-up et camions en tout genre dans leur jus. Peu après on remonte par la 56 au travers des Kaniksu et Kootenai National Forests. Environnement très nordique similaire au Canada dont on se rapproche ou de la Finlande. Forêts, végétation basse, sol marécageux où sillonne la bucolique Bull River et son Bull Lake. En rejoignant la US2 direction est vous arrivez forcément aux Kootenai Falls. N’hésitez surtout pas à prendre le petit sentier pour aller les admirer de près et vous dégourdir les pattes un moment. Lorsque le chemin se sépare en deux vous irez aux chutes par la droite et à un pont en câbles suspendu au dessus de la rivière par la gauche. Plus loin sur la US2 on traverse Libby (MT), la cité des aigles, où l’on peut admirer d’énormes rapaces en bois sculpté le long des rues sous un ciel à nouveau chargé. Suite à quoi on rencontre nos premiers travaux, 6 miles de gravier et de terre au ralenti et à la file, rien d’inquiétant, mais ce ne sera nos seuls kilomètres sur routes non pavées de l’aventure… La pluie refera son apparition heureusement que 6 miles avant Kalispell (MT). On s’arrête donc rapidement pour revêtir l’équipement flotte et on accélère le rythme jusqu’au Greenwood Village Inn & Suites où je remarque en voulant récupérer mon sac dans la bécane que mes clés manquent à l’appel ! Ces p*tes étaient tombées en ouvrant le top case lorsque l’on s’est changé c’était la seule explication… Du coup le frangin et moi on remonte en selle sous l’averse en espérant retrouver l’endroit du délit et oh bonheur mes clés nous attendaient bien sagement sur le bas côté de la route. Arrêt carburant-bières sur le retour avant une bonne douche chaude. L’hôtel n’est pas très bien situé, dans un RV park, un peu à l’écart, mais le hall est accueillant et dispose d’une grande véranda avec vue sur les biches (sauvages) qui paissent tranquillement. A noter qu’il ne faut pas être dérangé par les animaux morts, empaillés, dans ces régions. Pratiquement tous les établissements (hôtels, restaurants, bars, shops) que nous avons fréquenté avaient leur lot de bêtes exposées. Après avoir lancé une lessive avec l’aide de la réceptionniste (gratuitement et cette gentille dame nous l’a même sortie et rendue pliée) on attrape un Uber direction le Winchester Steak House. Personnel sympa, bonne nourriture côté restaurant et ensuite on traverse côté bar pour continuer la soirée où un groupe sympa joue des reprises hard rock / heavy metal des années 80-90. Et quand un band joue dans un bar là-bas ce n’est pas 1h de concert en 2 parties, c’est jusqu’à la fermeture ! Donc après 3h et une fatigue prononcée retour en Uber et bonne nuit.
JOUR 5 : Pas besoin de tout rembarquer ce matin, le programme forme une boucle on voyagera donc plus léger. Le ciel est encore très chargé mais la pluie s’abstient de perturber la fête alors que nous nous dirigeons vers l’entrée ouest de Glacier National Park. Après le portique on emprunte la fameuse Going To The Sun Road en espérant qu’elle porte bien son nom et que ce foutu soleil réapparaisse… On a juste zappé qu’on était le week-end et la longue file de voitures qui se traîne nous le rappelle bien vite. Après avoir longé le Lake McDonald la route grimpe le long des falaises en petits virages tout en se rétrécissant de plus en plus. La vue entre les bancs de brouillards remontant le long des vertes vallées et allant s’écraser contre les barres rocheuses est immanquable. Nous voilà arrivé au col Logan, le temps de se dégourdir les pattes en observant les écureuils terrestres qui s’activent déjà à préparer la saison d’hiver à venir. Puis la route se rélargit à nouveau alors qu’on descend sur le St Mary Lake en traversant une forêt d’épineux dont seules persistent des silhouettes nues et fantomatiques. On pose le long du lac avec les motos histoire de garder quelques photos pas trop moches pour la postérité avant de s’arrêter manger au St Mary visitor center. La boucle se poursuit par la 89 où on se tape cette fois 11 miles de gros graviers profonds à cause de travaux, en montée et descente avec des virages serrés… Puis la 49, jolie route malgré un état de la chaussée demandant une fois encore toute la concentration des pilotes, avant de rejoindre la US2 et de retourner sur Kalispell et notre hôtel pour la 2e nuit. Ce soir c’est au Montana Club pour le repas puis le Moose’s Saloon pour boire quelques bières. L’établissement est à voir absolument, vrai saloon dans son jus, sombre, entre odeur de sciure à la bière gaspillée et vieux bois. Tout ce qu’il faut pour nous planquer et nous désaltérer avant de se coucher.
JOUR 6 : Cette fois on quitte Kalispell pour de bon par les MT83, 200 et 141 pour rejoindre la US12 avec pour objectif le MacDonald Pass. La région est plus propice à l’élevage bovin, des collines à pertes de vue où paissent de nombreux troupeaux de Black Angus, quelques fermes en plus ou moins bon état parsemées où il y a de l’eau. Malgré ses 1924m le col n’est qu’une colline parmi les autres, le plateau étant lui-même à une altitude respectable, c’est à peine si l’on remarque l’avoir passé avant d’arriver à Helena (MT) puis rejoindre Bozeman (MT) pour une visite du Museum of the Rockies. L’exposition permanente historique culturelle et sociale de la région était sympa mais on a bien sûr préféré voir les squelettes géants de dinosaures ! En repartant on dépose les bécanes au Western Heritage Inn qui est notre étape pour la nuit. L’hôtel a un certain charme et à nouveau nombre d’animaux empaillés errent dans le hall. On marche jusqu’au centre pour descendre 2-3 excellents mojitos à l’El Camino Bar et notre choix se porte sur le Sweet Chili pour manger, resto de type asiatique très agréable et très bon vin et nourriture. Encore un mojito au passage avant de retrouver nos lits. Un bref regard sur le net m’apprend que le quartier de notre prochain hôtel à Jackson (WY) est évacué car toute la colline proche est en feu à cause d’un transformateur électrique, bref on verra quoi comment en arrivant.
JOUR 7 : Pour quitter Bozeman par la US191 au sud il faut traverser la barre montagneuse du cirque du Grand Yellowstone, la route est large et défile entre les vallées avant de prendre un peu de hauteur entre forêts et rochers puis de redescendre aussitôt ce qui nous amène à West Yellowstone (MT). Le parc n’étant pas (encore) au programme on y fait le plein avant de continuer notre route au sud par la US20 et la Mesa Falls Scenic Byway qui serpente au milieu des arbres et d’aller voir les Mesa Falls si l’envie vous prend. On repasse brièvement en Idaho par les ID32 et 33 qui, au milieu d’un paysage à nouveau plat et agricole nous permettent d’admirer la face moins connue de Grand Teton. Un arrêt bagels à Driggs (ID) et on se relance à l’assaut de la montagne, on traverse à nouveau le cirque du Grand Yellowstone par le Teton Pass au sommet duquel s’ouvre devant nous le panorama de la vallée et ses deux buttes qui annoncent l’arrivée à Jackson (WY). Une élan (Moose) dans un petit lac au bord de la route nous offre une dernière surprise avant de débarquer en ville. Jackson est magnifique, un peu comparable à nos stations de ski mais plus genre western, malgré l’odeur de feu persistante et la présence de petits foyers ça et là la colline est bien éteinte et l’on peu prendre nos quartiers au Four Winds Motel dont le seul avantage est son emplacement. En effet la qualité et la propreté du lieu le placeraient dans une catégorie de prix 3x moins chère si ce n’était pas à deux pas du centre à Jackson ! Si j’y retourne je chercherais un autre établissement. De toute façon tout est cher ici. Un petit tour du centre s’impose avec arrêt photo obligé au Town Square et ses fameuses arches faites de bois (cornes) avant d’aller poser son cul sur les selles du Million Dollar Cowboy pour quelques bières où nous rencontrons des genevois en trip de plusieurs mois à deux sur un sporty… Tcheu les malades ! Bon courage. Après quoi on trouve une place dans un resto qui a l’air correct au Snake River Grill, la nourriture était bonne mais l’addition elle, était salée ! Ils avaient au moins une vrai machine à café et on a savouré notre premier vrai espresso. Et retour au Million Dollar Cowboy pour quelques derniers verres au son d’un groupe country.
JOUR 8 : Un programme très attendu pour cette journée avec le passage le long de Grand Teton et l’entrée dans Yellowstone NP. Il ne fait pas très chaud ce matin mais le soleil est de la partie et le fameux profil des pics rocheux de Grand Teton ne tarde pas à apparaître dans le bleu du ciel. Avec la moto et la route au premier plan, champs et forêts en second et cet horizon magnifique nous tenons le parfait poster tel que nous l’avions rêvé pendant des mois ! On longe le Jackson Lake où la chaîne des Teton se reflète comme dans un miroir avant de rejoindre déjà l’entrée sud de la légende des parcs nationaux. Celui qui nous mets des étoiles dans les yeux rien qu’à l’évocation de son nom, Yellowstone ! Enfin nous y voilà… Le paysage est forestier et déjà on fait un bref arrêt aux Moose Falls puis on suit la vallée de la Lewis River et son lac avant de traverser une première fois la Continental Divide à seulement 2435m d’altitude. On tourne à gauche en atteignant le Lake Yellowstone direction la star Old Faithful en repassant deux autres fois la Continental Divide par le Craig Pass en dépassant les 2500m ce coup. En redescendant s’ouvre devant nous le Upper Geyser Basin son énorme et touristique Visitor Education Center. On vient de rater l’éruption du geyser, on en profite donc pour marcher un bout sur les pontons et sentiers qui serpentent entre les autres petits geysers et sources chaudes, se cultiver à la petite expo du visitor center et prendre à manger à la boutique souvenirs. Et là commence la longue attente, appareil photo en main, pour ne pas rater le vieux geyser qui peut cracher à n’importe quel moment. Après quelques faux espoirs et 2-3 coups de vapeurs voilà finalement le Old Faithful qui se réveille et souffle son panache blanc dans le bleu du ciel. Mais ce n’est pas tout, un autre spectacle nous attend pas loin, juste le temps de reprendre les motos pour s’arrêter à nouveau. Alors que nous sommes dans la file de véhicules pour accéder au parking apparaît sur notre droite notre premier bison vivant et sauvage, pépère l’animal, à pas 10m. Visiblement ils ne sont pas au courant de la distance de sécurité de 25m recommandée partout dans le parc ! On pose une fois encore nos montures pour tomber sur une première imposante piscine bouillonnante d’un bleu clair transparent avant de pouvoir admirer l’autre légende du coin, Grand Prismatic et ses couleurs qui vous en mettent plein les mirettes. Un must go, des photos magiques ! Retour sur les roues pour prendre le petit détour de la Firehole Lake Drive où nous apercevons encore quelques bisons et direction le Fountain Paint Pots. Ici des arbres morts, les pieds dans l’eau chaude soufreuse, nous offrent encore de magnifiques images. On peut aussi y voir une gouille de boue bouillonnante et quelques geysers qui crachent de gros nuages de vapeur jusque sur les pontons de bois. A Norris on continue plein nord et alors que la route suit à nouveau une vallée, surplombant la rivière, un de ces autres gros pépères se promenant tranquille au milieu de la voie provoque un beau bouchon. Nous le croisons tant bien que mal, à 2m de l’imposant bestiau, en ne faisant pas les fiers, espérant qu’il ne pique pas la mouche et vienne bousculer les motos… Puis le paysage s’ouvre temporairement sur des prairies avec quelques montagnes en toile de fond avant de s’enfiler dans une gorge abrupte au milieu des rochers pour arriver à Mammoth Hot Springs et le petit détour par ses terrasses supérieures, suivies des terrasses inférieures et leurs cascades minérales. La fin de la route pour Gardiner (MT) est une descente entre des collines dans le secteur des Wapitis. On peut observer nombre de ces animaux le long de la route et même aux abords de la petite bourgade, depuis la terrasse en fin de journée. L’Absaroka Lodge était très agréable, avec petit balcon côté rivière. On a bien mangé au Wonderland Café avant de finir au Two Bit Saloon, bourbon et billard.
JOUR 9 : Ce matin on se lève comme dans un Disney, un daim broute l’herbe devant l’hôtel où gambadent plusieurs lapins et chantent les oiseaux. On va au mini marché du coin pour acheter le pique-nique de midi, en effet les picnic areas ne manquent pas aux abords des routes du parc, par contre les lieux où trouver à manger sont rares. Nous rentrons à nouveau par l’entrée nord et rejoignons Mammoth Hot Springs où nous bifurquons à gauche. Les antilopes sont de la partie ce matin le long de la route avant de prendre le détour de la Blacktail Plateau Drive. Attention il s’agit plus d’un chemin à sens unique non pavé, fait de terre et de graviers, poussiéreux, qui grimpe sur le plateau avant de redescendre en virages serrés sur la route principale. C’est joli mais à déconseiller aux bikers non expérimentés ! Ce qui nous amène à Petrified Tree ou plutôt à une souche pétrifiée entourée d’une barrière métallique. On longe ensuite la vallée en surplombant la Yellowstone River jusqu’à la Tower Fall pour une photo rapide de cette cascade qui se jette de 40m de haut le long de la falaise, lieu historique de la fondation du parc. Après ça la route reprend son ascension du Dunraven Pass à 2700m entre prairies de haute altitude et une forêt où se côtoient de hauts et droits troncs morts et de jeunes conifères. Belle image d’une nature en pleine renaissance. Avant Canyon Village on tire à droite pour prendre la partie centrale du 8 que forme la route du parc et de devoir emprunter à nouveau la route de la veille Norris – Madison – Old Faithful – West Thumb et ses multiples passages de la continental divide sans s’arrêter cette fois mais avec un léger écart par la Firehole Canyon Drive qui vaut le détour pour longer le canyon et voir les Firehole Falls. Depuis West Thumb la route longe le Yellowstone Lake, son bleu profond se marie parfaitement avec le bleu du ciel, morcelé de contrastant nuages. Ses rives de plages et forêt incitent à la détente et pourquoi pas à la baignade (fortement déconseillée dû à la température de l’eau) pour les plus courageux. On passe par la Gull Point Drive avant d’emprunter le Fishing Bridge à Lake Village. Après une nouvelle traversée de travaux et donc de passage non pavé en terre, la route court encore un moment le long des berges puis reprend de la hauteur en grands virages parmi ces forêts de troncs fantomatiques jusqu’au Sylvan Pass à 2600m. La descente débouche sur la East Entrance d’où il nous reste encore 10 miles à parcourir pour trouver le Creekside Lodge et ses petits chalets sympas. Il devient néanmoins de plus en plus difficile d’ignorer cet énorme dégagement de fumée sur lequel nous semblons nous diriger irrémédiablement et effectivement le Fishhawk Fire fait rage sur les collines d’en face du lodge. N’étant pas, pour le moment, sous la menace directe des flammes nous allons au Pahaska Tepee Bar and Restaurant pour l’apéro et le repas. De toute façon il n’y a pas tant de choix dans le coin. La nourriture était bonne, ils devaient probablement finir les stocks de desserts car les doses étaient énormes, même le serveur nous a souhaité bonne chance en riant lorsqu’il a déposé les assiettes ! Après 2 bouteilles de rouge et alors que la nuit tombe on se décide à reprendre le bout de route qui nous sépare de notre chalet non sans avoir pris une 3e bouteille à l’emporter. L’ampleur de l’incendie est bien plus impressionnante de nuit, entre temps les pompiers avaient pris position et évacué les habitations tout le long de la rivière en contrebas, prêt à intervenir en cas d’avancement des flammes. On apprend donc que nous sommes sous risque d’évacuation, les propriétaires ont déjà chargé le camping car et la remorque, il faut pouvoir partir dans les 10 minutes en cas d’alerte si l’on décide de rester. Ayant bu quelques verres et ne voulant pas se taper encore 70 kil de route jusqu’à Cody de nuit et sans savoir où dormir, ayant aussi étudié l’avancement du sinistre sur internet, évalué la vitesse et la direction du vent, on décide assez rapidement d’ouvrir notre dernière bouteille et de boire un dernier verre « au coin du feu » … Peu de monde sont resté sur place cette nuit-là, mais nous n’avons pas eu besoin de fuir au milieu de la nuit.
JOUR 10 : On commence la journée par un costaud petit-déj de pain perdu (french toasts) et un plein des motos à la pompe du Pahaska Tepee Resort qui était fermée la veille au soir. 4 cols à plus de 2450m prévus ce jour. On reprend la même route en sens inverse jusqu’à Lake Village, on bifurque au nord le long de la Yellowstone River pour un arrêt au Mud Volcano, grand trou de boue bouillonnante et autres éléments volcaniques qui sentent le souffre. La Hayden Valley, le long de la rivière, est très prisée par les bisons présents en nombre et allant même jusqu’à se battre au milieu de la route nous obligeant à patienter le temps que l’un d’eux abandonne le combat. Lorsque nous pouvons continuer notre route c’est pour aller admirer les légendes que sont les Upper et Lower Falls par les South et North Rim Drives. Les Lower Falls et le canyon forment une vue mémorable. On accélère un peu jusqu’à Tower Jonction, étant déjà passé par là, pour rejoindre la Lamar Valley. Là encore bisons et antilopes se montrent peu farouches. Bon nombre de pêcheurs se succèdent le long de la rivière, puis la vallée se rétrécit et la route grimpe pour atteindre la Northeast Entrance et Cooke City pour atteindre le Colter Pass à 2453m et quitter définitivement Yellowstone. Mais ce n’est que le début de la Beartooth Highway qui va nous mener bien plus haut. A la bifurcation avec la 296, Chief Joseph Scenic Byway et son Dead Indian Pass, qui doit être magnifique mais que nous n’emprunterons malheureusement pas, nous rattrapons deux bikers avec qui nous engageons un petit run dans la première partie de la montée, juste histoire de réveiller un peu les bécanes et user du cale-pied. Ayant l’habitude de nos cols suisses serrés ils n’avaient aucune chance les américains, mais nos electra étant ridiculement lentes on s’est juste contenté de les pousser un peu, ce qui a suffit pour nous faire affectueusement traiter de gros malade lorsque l’on s’est arrêté causer un peu à la sortie des gorges. La suite de la montée ressemble à nos paysages alpins entre lacs glaciaires, pierriers et hautes montagnes où quelques bancs de neige s’accrochent par endroits. Encore quelques virages et on découvre le sommet du Beartooth Pass à juste pas 11'000 pieds soit 3350m. Une petite pause le temps de faire quelques pas, d’admirer la vue et d’observer la faune d’altitude, pikas et marmottes se hâtant entre les rochers à faire leurs réserves d’herbes pour l’hiver qui ne tarderait certainement pas à tomber à cette altitude. La route serpente entre les sommets et les marmottes puis redescend abruptement dans la vallée par séries d’épingles. La température est remontée de 15 à 35°C alors que nous passons vers de vieilles bâtisses, derniers témoins d’une activité minière aujourd’hui éteinte. La fin de la route jusqu’à Cody (WY) se fait sur les vapeurs d’essence avec une autonomie affichée de « low range » au tableau de bord bien avant d’atteindre la station service. Passage à l’hôtel, au Buffalo Bill’s Antlers Inn, avant de chercher un coin pour l’apéro. Le soleil couchant est noirci et rougi par le nuage de fumée de l’incendie de East Yellowstone, où nous dormions la nuit précédente, situé à 80km de là. Le Silver Dollar Bar, sa grande terrasse, son cowboy qui joue de la country et son choix de bière et d’appetizers sont parfait pour débuter la soirée. Pour manger on a réservé en passant devant à The Local, resto plutôt typé bio-organique mais pas (que) végétarien, pas vraiment notre choix habituel, mais ça change un peu et c’était bon. On décide de retourner boire un coup au Silver Dollar, mais entre temps l’ambiance a changé pour des hits actuels… Il semblerait que ce soir là le lieu était privilégié par la population LGB locale, sérieux, les vrais clichés du cowboy gay ! C’était assez comique mais pas du tout ce qu’on était venu chercher dans l’ouest sauvage.
JOUR 11 : Le météo est couverte alors que nous suivons la US alt14 en direction de Bighorn Lake (WY). Je commence à me demander pourquoi j’ai choisi cet itinéraire, la route n’étant pour l’instant pas formidable… Mais c’est en atteignant le lac que je me souviens, une énorme barre rocheuse se profile à l’horizon. Presque immédiatement après avoir emprunté le pont la vieille route, par moment défoncée, reprend des courbes et de la hauteur à flanc de montagne offrant une vue dégagée sur le plateau en contrebas. Nous revoilà bien vite à 2500m d’altitude et la température chute drastiquement, avec l’humidité de la brume en plus. Mais le lieu est magnifique aux alentours de la Bighorn National Forest. A défaut de mouflons nous ne verrons que des troupeaux de moutons domestiques. Et bien sûr notre dose de travaux, heureusement pas trop long car l’humidité et la route en terre forment une boue glissante peu agréable à cause du poids de nos montures. La descente en direction de Sheridan (WY) offre à notre vue route et falaises de couleur rouge orangée. On atteint la charmante ville et son Historic Main Street vers midi pour prendre un burger au Cowboy Café avant de faire un tour à la King’s Saddlery & Museum, de fouiner chez un antiquaire et de passer voir la Historic Sheridan Inn de Buffalo Bill. Nous allons ensuite prendre nos quartiers au Nelson Inn, dans l’appartement Industrial. Top pour le prix malgré une légère odeur de vieux poisson peut-être due aux précédents locataires ou à un produit de nettoyage malodorant. Nous passons le reste de l’après-midi à la laverie histoire de récupérer quelques vêtements propres. Pour la soirée on se décide pour un morceau de viande au Rib & Chop House puis quelques verres au fameux Mint Bar et sa devanture rodéo néon.
JOUR 12 : De Sheridan on traverse les plaines par la US14 jusqu’à Gillette (WY) d���où on emprunte un bout de I90 avant de retrouver la US14 jusqu’à ce que la silhouette singulière du Devils Tower National Monument se distingue à l’horizon. La concrétion minérale volcanique devient de plus en plus énorme au fur et à mesure que l’on s’y rapproche. Finalement nous déposons les motos au pied du géant pour en parcourir le sentier de 2km qui en fait le tour et permet d’en observer la formation alors que quelques téméraires encordés en font l’ascension. Le monument étant sacré pour les natifs américains des tissus de prière colorés sont disséminés un peu partout dans la forêt avoisinante. Vous apercevrez nombre de chiens de prairie au pied de la colline ainsi que là aussi quelques falaises rougeâtres. La tour rétrécit dans mon rétroviseur alors que nous reprenons le dernier bout de route pour Sundance (WY), petite ville typique et ayant marqué l’histoire du grand ouest américain comme ses voisines de la région. Notre hébergement, le Bearlodge, est un peu en dehors de la ville. Mais malgré un emplacement peu favorable ses petits chalets sont agréables. On boit une canette sur notre petite terrasse avant de retourner en ville, au Longhorn Saloon & Grill, pour manger. Pas sûr que le sucre glace sur la purée de carottes soit nécessaire mais le repas est bien. Le Dime Horseshoe Bar est le bouge local pour bien finir la soirée.
JOUR 13 : Une photo avec la statue du Sundance Kid, bandit de la bande du Wild Bunch avec Butch Cassidy, s’impose avant de quitter la place. Après coup je dirais que la meilleure solution est de descendre la 585 sud pour Four Corners puis remonter la 85 jusqu’à Cheyenne Crossing pour rejoindre Savoy et la Spearfish Canyon Scenic Byway. Mais mon plan de route est d’emprunter Moskee Road, plan qui commence bien sur la première dizaine de kilomètres, soit jusqu’au panneau « fin de route pavée »… Ayant passé le point de non-retour et n’étant plus à quelques miles de gravier on repart bouffer de la poussière entre forêts et bétail en liberté. Voilà qu’à mi-chemin, à l’endroit où nous sommes sensé tourner à droite, ne se trouve qu’un panneau qui dit « pas de route » et deux arbres abattus en travers de l’entrée du champ. Ce qui nous oblige à persévérer sur la route actuelle plus ou moins au hasard, le guidage GPS étant inutile dans le back country si ce n’est pour servir de boussole afin de rejoindre la US alt14 et le Spearfish Canyon après des dizaines de kil sur cette belle mais poussiéreuse alternative. Après avoir traversé le canyon et passé Spearfish (SD) on trace sur Sturgis (SD) par l’interstate où l’on s’arrête manger une pizza, visiter le Motorcycle Museum et acheter 2-3 souvenirs du rally au rabais dans une des multiples boutiques. En dehors de la manifestation hyper connue la ville est bien vide même si elle semble rester une étape de pèlerinage pour beaucoup de bikers. Les énormes bars saloons prévus pour des centaines de personnes sont bien déserts à 3. Ce n’est heureusement pas là que nous avons prévu de rester mais à Deadwood (SD) bien plus sympathique et animée. Ville pittoresque de l’époque cowboy, avec sa magnifique Historic Old Town, les tombes de Wild Bill et Calamity Jane au Mount Moriah Cemetery, ses casinos, saloons et boutiques. Coup de cœur pour le shop de Sick Boy Motorcycles. On dort au Deadwood Dick’s Hotel / Antiques / Saloon / Eatery… Un voyage dans le temps dans un bâtiment datant des années fin 1800 avec un ascenseur Otis tout aussi vieux qui peut s’avérer assez inquiétant à emprunter ! Sans parler du bric-à-brac entassé dans la boutique. Drôle d’expérience mais on s’est bien marré avec la propriétaire et elle nous a surclassé dans une suite (2 chambres, 1 kitchenette) au style résolument vintage (pour pas dire usé d’époque). Pas sûr que vous trouviez le véritable Saloon N°10, lieu de l’assassinat de Wild Bill étant donné que l’original a brûlé en même temps que le camp de mineurs. Mais un arrêt au Wild Bill Bar et Trading Post pour l’apéro est obligatoire tant la déco, l’ambiance et l’amabilité du serveur vous font remonter le temps. Cet établissement est un petit musée à lui seul. On s’arrête ensuite au Mavericks Steaks & Cocktails pour la bouffe avant de continuer au Old Style Saloon N°10 où un excellent groupe genre rock’n’roll, blues, soul nous fait danser devant le regard ravi d’un couple de retraités alors que le frangin se perd aux tables de jeu.
JOUR 14 : On a trouvé une carte touristique des Black Hills et des Badlands qui affiche clairement quelles sont les routes pavées, nous éviterons donc les graviers ces prochains jours. On prend donc un petit déj au Starbucks pour commencer la journée et finir de modifier l’itinéraire du jour. Départ par la 385 sud jusqu’à la bifurcation pour la 87 et notre premier objectif de la journée, la Needles Highway. L’entrée du Custer State Park est de 10$ par moto mais ça en vaut la peine. La route s’enfile entre pointes rocheuses et tunnels étriqués avec une large vue surplombant la vallée. On emprunte ensuite la Wildlife Loop Road où l’on croise ici aussi bisons, antilopes et chiens de prairie avant d’entamer l’ascension de l’Iron Mountain Road. De nombreux virages et là aussi tunnels serrés défilent, notamment les célèbres virages à 360°, formant une boucle en tire-bouchon. Nous pouvons apercevoir au détour d’une forêt ou à la sortie d’un tunnel le Mount Rushmore se détachant à l’horizon. Encore quelques courbes à se traîner derrière un foutu car qui passe les tunnels au centimètre et nous voilà au parking (10$ là aussi) des immenses têtes sculptées. Il y a beaucoup de monde et le site est en travaux donc on ne fait pas long, quelques photos et une boisson plus tard et on reprend la piste. On passe par la 16 pour remonter la 385 sur quelques kils et tourner à droite sur la Rimrock Highway 44 direction Rapid City (SD). Bref stop à Chapel in the Hills, église de type nordique, avant de débarquer au Town House Motel. Etablissement pour travailleurs de passage, mais propre et à 60$ la nuit autant celui-ci que celui de Jackson à 4x plus ! Une ballade dans les rues de la cité des présidents et vous constaterez que chaque croisement de downtown a sa statue grandeur nature d’un président américains, manque encore l’ami Donald qui devrait débarquer sous peu. La terrasse de la Firehouse Winery fait l’affaire pour un apéro dégustation de jus de raisin fermenté. Soirée européenne, on mange et boit italien au Boticelli, plutôt moyen, puis on finit la soirée à la bière au Paddy O’Neill’s Irish Pub.
JOUR 15 : Le temps se maintient jusqu’à Scenic (SD), heureusement car la ville quasiment abandonnée offre quelques vieilles bâtisses idéales pour une photo souvenir. Alors que la météo s’assombrit les premiers contreforts des Badlands apparaissent ça et là en bordure de route. La Badlands State Scenic Byway est magnifique, l’ambiance est sombre et glauque et à défaut de donner des belles photos elle laisse une impression pesante. Des collines striées bicolores aux crêtes dentelées s’étalent à perte de vue, mais la pluie s’invite à la fête jusqu’à Wall (SD) où la visite du Wall Drugstore est fortement conseillée et nous permet de nous abriter un moment. On casse la croûte au Badlands Saloon & Grille, merveilleux glaçage au whiskey sur un morceau de black angus. Puis on retrouve quelques gouttes de pluie sur la 14 jusqu’à Pierre (SD) au Baymont Inn. Le RedRossa Italian Grille est bien meilleur que celui de la veille mais bien moins typé italien. On part ensuite à la recherche d’un bar billard pour une soirée tranquille. On tombe sur le Longbranch, qui a l’air bien fermé, mais en poussant la porte s’ouvre… Pas grand monde en dedans si ce n’est le barman et un mec au bar, on commande à boire et entamons une partie de billard, puis de fléchettes. Le type du bar se pointe et nous propose un baby foot à 4. Il nous dit qu’il est le patron et que le week-end c’est rempli de monde, qu’il y a des groupes live et des karaokés. Et là c’était foutu… on a starté le karaoké avec le boss et les cuisiniers jusqu’à la fermeture, mais on a aussi eu une sévère addition niveau boissons à la fin ! La rentrée, ivre, était plutôt comique et le dinosaure de la station service Sinclair Oil a servi de monture pour quelques photos au passage…
JOUR 16 : N’ayant pas trouvé de crèche valable à Pipestone (MN), une tornade étant passée par Sioux Falls (SD), on tire plein Est par la 14 au travers de nombreux champs en grande partie inondés sous un ciel gris. Alors qu’on s’arrête pour manger un burger dans un diner des plus local et dans son jus à De Smet (SD), on apprend par hasard qu’il s’agit de la ville où a en partie vécu Laura Ingalls Wilder (auteur de La Petite Maison Dans La Prairie) et passons donc voir le memorial. La suite du trajet ressemble en tout point à la matinée à la différence près que je monte en passager derrière mon frère, pour prendre quelques images de la copine au guidon de l’Electra, jusqu’à Brookings (SD). On y a réservé une chambre au Super 8 en zone commerciale donc pas de sortie spéciale ce soir, simplement une bonne bouffe au Whiskey Creek Wood Fire Grill et leurs baby back ribs incroyables. Epaisses, tendres et juteuses, la viande tombe toute seule des os… Quand je vois les tristes racks décharnés qu’on nous sert chez nous.
JOUR 17 : Ce matin on poursuit notre route sur la US14, le paysage défile semblable à la veille jusqu’à Bloomington (MN) et son Mall Of America, 2e plus grand centre commercial des US. Plus de 520 magasins, 14 cinés, une cinquantaine de restos et fast-foods, 8 discothèques, une chapelle et de multiples attractions dont un rollercoaster et un Sea-Life aquarium. On commence donc par un repas au Rainforest Café que mes compagnons de route ne connaissaient pas encore avant un tour des innombrables boutiques. Notamment un grand magasin de déguisements et décoration, un d’équipement country / cowboy, les stores Carhartt, Crayola, Lego, Disney et Victoria’s Secret parmi nos arrêts. Un tour sur le grand huit de Bob l’éponge, qui malgré sa taille réduite, comporte tous les acrobaties nécessaires. Puis une visite de l’aquarium avant de finir par un fly-over America. Sorte de cinéma 4D qui vous fait visiter les grands paysages américains en « volant ». Pour les 2 derniers un billet combiné est théoriquement disponible, mais après que le responsable de caisse de l’aquarium ait essayé de nous le sortir pendant 15 minutes sans résultat, il nous a offert le ticket du fly-over et fait une réduc sur l’entrée du Sea-Life… Bonne affaire ! Finalement on a quand même passé 6h dans le centre avant de finir le bout de route qui nous sépare de Minneapolis (MN) et du Holiday Inn Downtown. Très bon repas au Firelake Grill House. On erre ensuite dans un downtown plutôt mal fréquenté par des crackheads à cette heure à la recherche d’un endroit pour boire un verre, sans grand résultat. On finira la soirée par une bière dans un pub.
JOUR 18 : On quitte la grande ville par la US10 pour rejoindre le Wisconsin et la 35, la Great River Road, par laquelle nous longeons le majestueux Mississippi, traversant nombre de villages des plus typiques aux maisonnettes de bois coloré. Certains au nom à consonance française tel Trempaleau (WI) où nous nous arrêtons pour manger. Des ponts en travaux avant Prairie du Chien (WI) nous obligent à modifier notre itinéraire pour Madison (WI), nous empruntons donc la 171 qui file entre les collines, les fermes et les vergers. Très belle route qui change un peu du grand fleuve et permet de découvrir les beautés de la campagne avant d’atteindre la capitale de l’état. Cité universitaire logée entre 3 lacs, centrée autour de son capitole. Le Hampton Inn & Suites Downtown est bien situé et dispose d’un bon parking (payant bien sûr). Nous nous aventurons en ville en se dirigeant en direction du capitole, c’est vendredi et il y a beaucoup d’étudiants et de monde en général qui font la file devant les restaurants qui donnent bonne impression. On trouve une table au Rare Steakhouse, ambiance très tamisée pour ne pas dire carrément sombre mais confortable, très bonnes pièces de viande et pour accompagnement un Lobster Mac & Cheese (sorte de macaronis au fromage au homard) juste incroyable. Leur carte des vins est aussi remarquable. La soirée continue au Red Rock Saloon, bel établissement, bon concert, beaucoup d’ambiance mais fréquentation essentiellement estudiantine très jeune.
JOUR 19 : Journée pèlerinage en perspective, mais d’abord il nous faut tirer plein est par la US18, nous visitons là encore l’arrière pays, croisant lacs et charmantes petites villes paisibles. L’arrivée à Milwaukee (WI) est un peu plus stressante et nous choisissons de rallier la Mecque (ou plus exactement le Harley-Davidson Museum) par l’interstate afin de ne pas perdre du temps à traverser la ville. Nous voilà donc dans l’antre de la marque où sont alignés quantité de modèles historiques, des débuts de l’aventure au futur proche. Les différentes générations de moteurs, de peintures de réservoir ainsi que des curiosités et diverses motos célèbres. A l’extérieur se trouvent bien entendu un café où boire et manger, une boutique et une concess. Donc après en avoir fait le tour on rejoint la 32 et on longe le lac Michigan jusqu’à Zion (IL) pour passer la nuit à The Inn at Market Square. Rien de très intéressant aux alentours, on prend quelques bières dans une station service pour l’apéro avant de descendre manger au restaurant de l’hôtel, le Bailey’s. Rien de spécial, mais l’équipe de service était bien cool et on a tapé des verres avec et servi de cobayes pour de nouveaux shakers jusqu’à la fermeture.
JOUR 20 : Pour ceux qui connaissent seuls 2 mots suffisent : SIX FLAGS ! Pour les autres il s’agit de parcs d’attractions basés essentiellement sur les rollercoasters (grands huit). Rien à voir avec Disneyland Paris ou Europa Park, là c’est d’un autre niveau… Et malgré que ce soit un dimanche le parc n’est pas blindé, on a le temps de faire toutes les attractions principales et de se mettre la tête à l’envers avant de reprendre la voie rapide pour notre étape finale, la grande ville de Chicago (IL). Le Ohio House Motel est plutôt bien situé, dispose d’un parking et est à un prix très raisonnable pour le coin. On mange au Bavette’s, resto chic, là aussi dans la pénombre, ambiance vintage époque prohibition. Très bonne cuisine et vin ici aussi. Ensuite un arrêt dans un endroit mythique de la ville s’impose. Le Blue Chicago étant ouvert le lundi c’est là que l’on se pose pour écouter un bon groupe blues en live et boire quelques bières.
JOUR 21 : Journée en ville qui commence dans une brume au point que les sommets des gratte-ciels restent invisibles. On va voir le début de la route 66, le loop et son métro aérien ce qui nous mène au Lou Mitchell’s, arrêt obligatoire tant pour les touristes voulant fréquenter un bout d’histoire que pour les travailleurs locaux voulant se remplir l’estomac. Après un brunch des plus solides on suit le Riverwalk peu fréquenté à cause de la période et de la météo. Alors qu’une éclaircie fait son apparition nous tentons l’ascension de la Willis Tower en espérant apercevoir un minimum de vue. On arrive quand même à prendre quelques photos au dessus du vide par le balcon de verre malgré les nuages persistants. Le spectacle des gens ayant peur de la hauteur ou du sol transparent vaut à lui seul le détour. Le retour à l’hôtel se fait par le Magnificent Mile, l’avenue commerciale. Ayant bien assez marché nous mangeons au Hard Rock Café pas loin de l’hôtel puis finissons avec une partie de billard dans un sports bar des environs.
DERNIER JOUR : Le vol est en fin de journée mais il faut rendre nos fidèles montures pour 10h. Il faut donc vite refaire son sac et traverser la ville pour rejoindre l’agence EG à Rosemont (IL) où l’on rend des motos vraiment sales car jamais lavées et avec env 6700 km de plus au compteur au grand étonnement du personnel et d’une bande de touristes français et suisses, tous habillés en vêtements de prêt Eagle Rider, qui partent faire la Mother Road en voyage organisé, accompagnés du minibus suiveur. Probablement le voyage de leur vie mais perso je ne pourrais pas, chacun son truc… On se rend ensuite à l’aéroport à la recherche d’une consigne où laisser nos bagages pour la journée, mais probablement pour raisons de sécurité dues aux attentats ça n’existe plus. Nous prenons les transports publics pour passer l’après-midi tranquille au zoo (qui dispose de casiers lui) avant de revenir sur l’aéroport pour un dernier repas et de quitter le pays pour de bon (jusqu’au prochain trip !) avec un peu d’amertume mais aussi beaucoup d’images dans la tête. Le décollage de nuit avec la vue sur Chicago illuminée nous offre un dernier souvenir en guise d’au revoir.
Le mot de la fin : ça a été, cette fois encore, une expérience inoubliable, un voyage génial avec des paysages et des lieux visités magnifiques. Je peux dire que j’ai vu Yellowstone une fois dans ma vie, mais pas seulement. Les US ne se limitent pas aux parcs nationaux, grandes villes et autres lieux touristiques. Les meilleures découvertes et les plus belles rencontres ont lieu dans des endroits improbables et reculés, en général peu fréquentés où la vie n’a pas encore été corrompue par la manne financière des masses. L’état de Washington est toujours je pense mon préféré, sa côte pacifique, sa forêt primaire, ses montagnes, lacs et rivières, ses vergers et vignes en font un paradis encore préservé. A noter quand même que le mois de septembre est peut-être le dernier moment pour rouler à moto dans le nord, une mauvaise météo et le risque de neige deviennent importants ensuite. Il ne faut pas oublier que même si c’est souvent relativement plat l’altitude est vite élevée. J’aurais apprécié voir un mouflon, un loup et un ours, j’aurais même échangé quelques dizaines de bisons pour ça mais tant pis ça fait partie du jeu. On a quand même pu observer en vrac de nombreux écureuils (tamia, gris, roux, terrestre), chiens de prairies, marmottes, pikas, lapins, blaireau américain, biches, antilopes, wapitis, élan, bisons et d’innombrables oiseaux dont des dindons sauvages et des oies du Canada. Le prochain roadbook est lui aussi déjà prêt depuis bon nombre d’années, reste qu’à attendre qu’une nouvelle occasion se présente avant de rempiler pour un trip du côté est cette fois…
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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 sensing the sand slipping through my fingers. I taste the sweetness of a date, like a real candy, then the flavor of coffee with a hint of cardamom and rose water... I hear the desert wind whistling in my ears, the distant call of a muezzin, then the murmur of water. When I open my eyes, I 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 you’d dream were full of life, imposing fortresses overlooking valleys, and lively souks where the offer is delicate and negotiation a mutual courtesy.
All that, and so much more.
That’s what I tried to capture in my illustrated travel journal, which I’ll fill here and there with photos.
I drew this journal "cold," after my return (actually, I made it this summer, even though 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 page 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 detail, but it takes ink well (liner pen). On the other hand, 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 sublime 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 carved silver ones...
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a bit of saffron, and occasionally some rose water.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (worn during the week and daytime, with colors more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you might see 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 tassel on the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go all out with it! "It smells like the tassel" 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 the burka—more like the 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, and 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 intro! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
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.
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.
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...
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.
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)
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
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.
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.”
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!!!
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:
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.
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
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Our first stop was just a few kilometers from Marrakech, at a lovely house perfect for relaxing and recharging before continuing. It’s called Bleu House, a little paradise on the outskirts of Marrakech. The welcome was very warm, with a beautiful pool and a lovely garden.
Next, we headed toward the Tichka Pass. The road has really improved in recent years—it’s much easier to drive now. No more getting stuck behind trucks, and today, the construction is practically finished.
Morocco has turned green after the recent rains. It’s a joy for the herds and shepherds.
When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”
This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...
Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.
Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!
La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.
Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.
Some practical info:
- The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side.
- We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €.
- The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen.
- Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day.
- Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.
Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!
If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!
Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with:
Zero preparation.
Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.
Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?
The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!
The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.
So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!
So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!
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...
This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rental options kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!
The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan?
Not in the end.
The south or not the south?
Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or go with the flow?
Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela about this destination (the guide has been updated since).
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You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek!
(Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
You’ll find here a post with some practical information.
And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.
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As a supplement, the route track.
Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...
January 2026
Here we go again for new adventures and the pleasure of sharing them with you here! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me with the preparations, even with some last-minute improvisations just days before departure. Thanks to Montagnard74, Jojoone1, Songsam, Attila, Dennis2, NadegerFERM, and the authors whose travel journals about Laos inspired me (Montagnard74, Muriel18, Mavietongs...).
In this story, written by Richard and illustrated by me, we’ll tell you about the journey of four friends: Catherine, Richard, Nathalie, and Bruno. A reinvented but overall successful trip, filled with discoveries and surprises, the scents of spices and frangipani flowers, (too) spicy food, sunsets, and... one big mess.
I’d been wanting to discover Sulawesi for years. But then life happened—COVID, the cost of flight tickets, you name it. Long story short, years went by, but we finally set off as a family for a three-week trip in southern Sulawesi: Rammang Rammang, Rantepao, Sengkang, Bira, and Selayar.
I like to spend a good amount of time in the places I visit, giving myself the chance to really get to know the area and meet locals. So no island-hopping this time—just the south. But when I say "just," it’s not restrictive at all, given how rich this island is in landscapes, little encounters, and magical moments.
Wednesday 07/08 - Thursday 07/09:
We left Montpellier for what was supposed to be five flights, though we only took four to start, landing in Jakarta.
We picked up our luggage there to catch a flight to Makassar the next day. That’s the only way we could get an affordable ticket (702 €).
I won’t bore you with the flight details—there’s not much to say. We arrived at 7 PM and considered heading straight to Makassar that evening. But we opted for a recovery night before taking off again. Good thing we did, because my son’s suitcase was missing...
First contact with the locals was a bit stressful—a trip without your luggage isn’t exactly fun. But right away, a woman reassured us: the suitcase was just enjoying some extra time in Singapore. Maybe it was doing some last-minute shopping. Anyway, nothing serious—it was supposed to arrive at 9 AM the next day. That gave us some breathing room since our flight wasn’t until noon.
So off we went to our hotel (Days Hotel & Suites) near the airport. It was cheap (40 € for three rooms—my kids are older and need their space), but it wasn’t worth much more. The place had definitely seen better days. But no big deal—we were only there for the night, and... we got to watch France beat Morocco in the World Cup live at 3 AM. That’s what really mattered!
Friday 07/10: In search of the lost suitcase
First challenge of the morning: finding our missing suitcase. They sent us to the airport basement, to the staff entrance. We were greeted with smiles, and an airport employee led me through the underground corridors back to the baggage claim. Right on time at 9 AM, the suitcase arrived, just like they’d promised. We were finally complete!
Off we went to change terminals, grab a well-deserved meal, and board our fifth flight to Makassar.
Little side note: I struggled for a while trying to book domestic flights directly on the airlines’ websites with no luck. Without meaning to advertise (though I guess I am a little), I realized it’d be easier to use sites like tiket.com or Traveloka. That turned out to be a great choice—I even ended up booking hotels through them later in the trip.
12:40 PM: We were on our way to Makassar. First good news: we were the only tourists. Well, the only European tourists on the flight, anyway.
No, you’re not dreaming—the bag is full of... potato chip packets.
To each their own souvenirs, I guess...
When we arrived in Makassar, a driver was waiting to take us straight to Rammang Rammang: 250,000 IDR (12 €) to our guesthouse (Rammang Rammang House). Forget about meeting people on the bus—we were headed straight to the first stop of our trip, and it was already stunning.
My kids’ guesthouse:
Ours:
View of the little lake:
But not everything is straightforward around here.
I wanted to get a local SIM card for internet and calls. I found them expensive at Jakarta’s airport (20 € for 20 GB), so I decided to wait. Well, no luck in Rammang Rammang either. You can’t just buy one from the local shop—you need a Telkomsat store (they have the best coverage). So we’d have to wait for Rantepao to get Wi-Fi... When I say "local shop," I mean the little shack around the corner. No big deal—we’d find one easily in Rantepao for 5 € and 25 GB. So there we were, offline, just the four of us enjoying the amazing view.
Saturday 07/11: Rammang Rammang
We woke up early to the sound of wedding music blasting through the village (everyone’s invited!). Off we went to explore the area.
A little walking, a little boat ride (shared with a French tourist and a Polish one—yes, there *are* tourists here, just not many; 750,000 IDR for up to 8 people) through a lovely canal, and we discovered the karst site. It was peaceful and beautiful.
The river:
The karst site:
Okay, Palermo—we know it. We go there to marvel at the architectural wonders born from the Arab-Norman-Byzantine-Gothic mix. And rightly so. We also go to treat our taste buds to all kinds of delights, both savory and sweet. Again, rightly so. We go to succumb to the charms of Palermo’s women, their sun-kissed skin glowing with golden highlights. Still, rightly so. And all while fantasizing about a mafia we’ll never actually see. Anyway.
But you’ll also find street art everywhere, even in the historic center. Sometimes, you just need to step a few meters away from the main tourist highways like Cassaro, Via Maqueda, or the main arteries of the Ballarò, Capo, or Vucciria markets to stumble upon some amazing murals. Duck into one or two slightly grimy alleys, weaving past trash and crumbling walls, and you’ll find real gems.
For example, just 50 meters south of the main artery of the Mercato del Capo, there’s a great spot with dozens of murals in a tiny neighborhood of run-down mini-houses. You’ll find plenty more south of the Mercato di Ballarò, in the Albergheria (the grittier side, not the one near Cassaro). There’s some in Ballarò itself too, but it’s hard to spot when the market’s in full swing with stalls everywhere. La Kalsa isn’t left out either, nor is Vucciria—just step away from the restaurant-packed streets.
Here are a few examples that really caught my eye.
(In the heart of Albergheria, on a street every visitor walks down—lovely message from an unidentified artist)
We landed in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, and headed straight to Kasane in Botswana to pick up our car.
Our vehicle is a 4x4 because in Zambia, it's practically impossible to use anything else, especially in the national parks. I’ve already had the pleasure of visiting South Luangwa National Park—it’s one of the reasons for this trip, the main one being to travel in Africa with one of my sons.
First stop: Livingstone on the banks of the Zambezi River. Along the way, we discovered a lovely restaurant at Socrates with a super-friendly owner (we’ll actually stop there again on our way back). We spent our first night in the rooftop tent after a stunning sunset, accompanied by the grunting of hippos in the river.
The next day, we set off early, heading to Kafue NP. In fact, we’ll always leave early—waking up between 5:00 and 5:30 AM and hitting the road an hour later. Kafue is a lesser-known park, mostly forested, and the animals are skittish because they’re not used to human presence. We crossed the park from south to north and came across various antelopes. Near Lake Itezhi-Tezhi, there are plains where wildlife is easier to spot.
After Kafue, we headed to South Luangwa. This journey requires stops in Mumbwa and Petauke. Two pleasant stops where we found lodges (a nice change from the rooftop tent) at affordable prices and met welcoming people.
For me, South Luangwa is Zambia’s most beautiful park—the river is stunning, the landscapes are gorgeous, and there’s a wide variety of wildlife, including, of course, big cats. A tip for those, like us, who aren’t with a guide: if you’re staying near the park for several days, don’t hesitate to do a "game drive" to scout out where the animals are so you can return the next day with your own vehicle. Of course, in the dry season, you’ll want to focus on waterholes to see the animals—and you’ll need a bit of luck too. The elephant population is growing, and we were lucky enough to see around sixty elephants crossing the Luangwa at dawn, spread across several groups. South Luangwa is the westernmost point of our trip, and we’re now heading east to Lower Zambezi.
Lower Zambezi is Zambia’s side of Mana Pools on the Zimbabwe side. We took a boat ride on the Zambezi to see elephants, hippos, crocodiles, and a multitude of birds living along the water and on the river’s islands. The sunset there is also magnificent.
To explore the park, we followed the waterways parallel to the Zambezi, mostly on the western side (see our route). Lower Zambezi is the last park we visit, and the final leg of our trip will be Victoria Falls.
Victoria Falls—or Mosi-Oa-Tunya ("The Smoke That Thunders")—are truly impressive, even during the dry season. We saw the falls from both countries: in Zambia for the overall view and the bridge that serves as the border, and in Zimbabwe to get as close as possible to the most spectacular parts of the falls.
This marks the end of our trip, which, despite a blown tire on the road, went off without any major issues. Zambia is a beautiful country that immerses you in wild, still-preserved nature.
From Southern Shikoku, between land and sea, to the blue waters of Miyakojima and finally Tokyo’s megacity
Hi everyone,
I have to admit, I really hesitated before deciding to write this travel journal... Writing one takes a lot of time and energy, and since this is my 4th trip, I wondered if it would actually interest anyone other than myself (both for the discovery and the writing). But after a few "Are you going to write a journal?" requests and especially the renewed pleasure from reading other travelers’ travel journals about Japan or elsewhere on this forum or elsewhere, I’ve decided to share this 4th installment in the Land of the Rising Sun here.
The itinerary:
27 full days, from late May to late June 2025, right in the middle of the rainy season, including:
-->13 days in Shikoku, from Kochi (Kochi Prefecture) to Matsuyama (Ehime Prefecture)
-->7 days in Miyakojima (Okinawa Prefecture)
-->7 days in Tokyo
The trip was decided on fairly last-minute this year, as usual.
I regularly check flight prices to track fluctuations for this destination, even without concrete plans. Finding a slightly cheaper direct flight (900 €) than what I’d seen in previous months (around 1,200–1,400 € on average) for a Paris-Tokyo route with Japanese airline ANA was too tempting to resist the urge to return to this enchanting country. After long hesitations between exploring the San’in region (Matsue, Tottori, Yamaguchi) and southern Shikoku, the decision was made—I took the plunge! The tickets are booked: Paris to Kochi with a layover in Tokyo, all with ANA, the airline I’d been dreaming of... for 1,120 € per person. Okay, it’s not cheap, but it’s still better than in 2023.
We leave in 2 weeks!! Now it’s just a matter of getting everything ready!
Intense work ahead in these 2 weeks to:
finalize a more precise itinerary and reach an agreement—yep, because even though we both love Japan, our preferences differ slightly, and we have to choose between exploring new places or taking time to revisit beloved spots...
decide how much time to spend in each selected area without rushing while still exploring
research places that might interest us and watch videos about Japan
book accommodations: yes, it’s possible to do this on the spot as we go, but last year, we noticed that last-minute options were pretty expensive, so we’re booking ahead—even if it means keeping a few options open while we decide or see if better deals pop up later
reserve rental cars
order yen
check the weather regularly and wonder if choosing the *tsuyu* (rainy season) was really a good idea—and whether we’ll be stuck in non-stop rain???
What a tough job, right? Traveling to Japan for a month—such a hard life!
Despite this being my 4th trip, the excitement is just as intense as the first time.
The only small downside is that when we booked the flight tickets, there were only a few seats left, so we’re only sitting together on the international return flight. Plus, on the outbound flight, we’ve got the middle seats.
Another lingering question: what French-language films will be available? According to the internet, the selection seems limited.
Oh well, these are just minor details—it’s almost time to fly!
PS: I’ll be posting slowly and irregularly... so for those interested, be patient or maybe set an alert...
Before Our Departure
Preparing for this trip started 9 months before our departure in June. For those planning a similar itinerary, it’s important to book accommodations well in advance, especially in the Okavango and Savuti campsites—otherwise, you might not find any availability.
Introduction
After visiting Zambia three years ago and Namibia and western Botswana a year and a half ago, this year we chose Zimbabwe (Hwange NP) and the northern half of Botswana.
Our flight from Paris was to Victoria Falls with Ethiopian Airlines, with a layover in Addis Ababa. We rented a 4x4 from Bushlore in Kasane, complete with two rooftop tents since there are four of us on this adventure. Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4 and, most importantly, gave us a rundown of the vehicle and its equipment. Pay close attention to what they tell you—it could be crucial if something goes wrong, as it did for us during the trip.
Our Itinerary
We arrived on June 12th at noon. At Victoria Falls Airport, we got our double-entry visa right away—I’d already pre-booked it online on the site https://www.evisa.gov.zw/.
Since our vehicle was in Botswana, we had to cross the border from Victoria Falls into Botswana for the first time.
The next morning, Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4. After completing the formalities, we headed toward Zimbabwe and the town of Victoria Falls.
We woke up early the next morning to be at Victoria Falls at sunrise. The scenery was stunning, but since it was the start of the dry season, the Zambezi was still high, so the falls had a strong flow. This made it hard to fully appreciate their beauty.
In the early afternoon, we left for Hwange NP, where we stayed for 4 days. Two days at Gwango campsite near Dete, followed by two days at Robins Camp. We expected to see more animals at Robins, but that wasn’t the case. In Hwange, we didn’t spot any predators, but we did see plenty of mammals (buffalo, elephants, giraffes, zebras, and antelopes).
After a few days in Zimbabwe, we crossed back into Botswana at Pandamatenga. We stopped at Nata Lodge for a good night’s rest—driving on the dirt roads is exhausting.
We left Nata and headed toward Nxai Pan. The road was sandy but manageable. We made a small detour to admire some beautiful baobabs at "Baines Baobabs." Then we continued to our campsite, Nxai Pan South Camp. Keep in mind that many campsites in Botswana aren’t fenced (except for the shower/toilet areas), so animals can roam freely within the camp. Take precautions, especially after dark.
After our stop in Nxai Pan, we headed to Maun. We decided to break our journey in Maun before heading to Moremi and the Okavango Delta for three reasons: first, we needed to stock up on supplies and fuel for the next 5 days; second, our fridge had broken (luckily, Bushlore has a branch in Maun); and third, the drive from Nxai to our camp in Xakanaxa in the delta would’ve taken too long. I always avoid driving after dark.
We arrived at our Xakanaxa camp on June 21st in the early afternoon. Not wanting to waste time, we booked a boat ride on the Okavango Delta, leaving at 4:00 PM for a 2-hour sunset cruise. For those interested, to the right of the Xakanaxa X1 site, there’s a sign for boat rides. The organizer is very professional and offers prices that are nothing like those of the lodges.
It was a beautiful ride through the delta with a stunning sunset. Being on a boat is much more relaxing than driving on the dirt roads. That didn’t stop us from doing self-drive safaris the next morning and late afternoon, though.
Then came the time to leave the delta and head toward Savuti, a much drier region. And that’s when the toughest part of our trip began. First, we decided to go up via Khwai. The rainy season was over, but the area was still marshy. We had to cross a few small water patches, testing the depth to make sure we could get through. Luckily, a sign on the road pointed us toward a drier route. We reached Khwai without any issues, but then we made a major mistake. Instead of taking the main track toward Mababe Gate to reach Savuti Camp, we took a straight path north and then a right turn to get to our camp. Bad call—we got stuck in the sand, with one rear wheel buried halfway and a front wheel off the ground. We were genuinely scared we wouldn’t get out, especially since we were on a deserted track, 20 kilometers from our destination, with night falling in two hours. This is where paying attention to the vehicle instructions really paid off—we had to use the jack to get out of the mess. The result: we arrived at Savuti campsite just before dark (Distance: 146.3 km, Duration: 9 hours, 56 minutes, and 3 seconds, Average speed: 14.7 km/h, tracked with Osmand). At reception, the staff couldn’t understand how we’d gotten there—we hadn’t passed through any of Savuti’s reserve entry gates.
The next morning, no one felt like driving, so we did a game drive with a guide. I don’t know if it was some kind of reward, but the outing was amazing. We saw three lions and, best of all, a pack of African wild dogs that we had time to admire and photograph. The next day, we did a short self-drive and found one of the lions from the day before drinking at a waterhole. That was the end of our Savuti adventure.
Now we’re heading to Kasane. We returned our vehicle and settled in for our last two nights there. The next morning, since we no longer had a car, we decided to do one last early-morning game drive in Chobe NP. It turned out great—we followed two brother lions and saw plenty of other mammals. The only downside of Chobe is the number of tourists, which was a change from the other parks we’d visited. That said, we’re tourists too, so...
In the evening, we took one last boat ride on the Chobe River to end on a high note with a beautiful sunset.
After a good night’s sleep and plenty of wonderful memories, landscapes, animals, and emotions, it was time to leave. We left early in the morning with the same taxi company as before to cross the border into Zimbabwe one last time and head to the airport, where we took off to return to France.
We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?
This travel journal aims to help future travelers (well, I hope so!), since there’s so little information available about this remote archipelago. Big thanks to Lolodesiles and Ayis for answering my questions while I planned this trip!
Context
This is our fourth trip to Indonesia as a couple—after Java-Bali in 2011, Flores-Komodo in 2013, and Sulawesi in 2016—each time for three weeks. It’s also our tenth trip to Southeast Asia overall.
We’re traveling like we have in previous years: with a rough itinerary that often changes based on who we meet, tips from other travelers, how tired we are, or what we’re feeling in the moment. In the Moluccas, it’ll change constantly, mostly depending on transportation.
Our only accommodation booking: the first few nights in Ambon when we arrive.
Planned route (to be refined on the spot): Ambon - Banda Islands - Lease Islands - Ternate - Tidore - Halmahera (between Sofifi and Tobelo) - Morotai and the neighboring unnamed archipelago.
Flights: Lyon-Paris-Singapore on Air France (428 € round-trip), with good meals, champagne, and wine (we like our little comforts when going on vacation 😏). Then Singapore-Jakarta-Ambon on Air Asia and Garuda.
Return flight: Ternate-Jakarta-Singapore on Lion Air, with a 3-day stopover in Singapore before heading home.
Episode 1: Ambon to Banda
Our guesthouse, booked two days before departure, is 45 minutes from Ambon Airport, near Natsepa Beach (northeast of Leihitu). It’s a pretty average beach—quiet on weekdays but packed on Sundays (we saw the difference). It’s lined with warungs.
This rainy day helps us readjust to the atmosphere of this country we love so much.
Our “Solim Guesthouse” is a lovely house with a living/dining room and garden, costing 15 € per night for two, including a hearty breakfast.
Dinner is at Gaba Gaba, a great restaurant just a short walk away, right by the water, recommended by our host. Fun fact: it’s in the Lonely Planet, and it might be the only LP-listed spot in the Moluccas that actually matches the description (the others either don’t exist or have nothing to do with what’s advertised 😠).
For the next two days, the super-friendly owner lends us his scooter. We set off to explore the coastal villages in northern Leihitu (the western part of Ambon Island, which has a weird shape).
Laundry and trucks washed in the same stream.
Liang Beach, described as the island’s most beautiful, is almost gone (climate change or something else?), but the colors are magical.
We continue 25 km toward a snorkeling spot our host recommended, taking a gorgeous, deserted little road through tiny villages in clove plantations (oh, those unforgettable scents!), stunning coves, and dense forest.
We’re greeted dozens of times with “Hello Mister”—a daily routine in the Moluccas. Every time we stop, we pose for photos to be saved on locals’ smartphones. They don’t see tourists often.
We ask for directions to the snorkeling spot (not easy—we only know basic Indonesian like *Selamat pagi*, *siang*, *sore*, and other polite phrases). Not many people know where it is (especially since we never know which village we’re in), but we eventually reach a small village that seems to be the right place. 🙂
We ask a local to take us there by boat (it’s not reachable by land).
The spot is at most 100 meters long, but the coral is in good condition (apparently not dynamited by fishermen, unlike in other parts of this beautiful country where fishing methods are destructive and nature pays the price 😠). The fish are plentiful and diverse. It’s a great start before heading to Banda. We’re happy to have the place to ourselves… though we don’t yet realize we won’t see a single tourist for the rest of the trip!
After two days of rest, we head to Tulehu Port in the morning, aiming for the Banda Islands. We know the journey is often tricky: the Pelni ferry runs twice a month but doesn’t match our dates, the 10-seat Suzi Air plane is always full (you can’t book—you have to show up on Mondays and Fridays), and it’s often canceled due to weather. So we opt for the Tuesday speedboat (which also gets canceled if there are waves or wind), with the next one on Saturday.
We’re used to Indonesian ports—crowded, rusty boats, no English speakers—but we still feel lost. When I ask about the speedboat to Bandaneira, people gesture wildly, someone takes me to the “harbor office,” then tells me there’s no boat, others try to sell me tickets, and some just say, “No boat.”
Luckily, an English-speaking local approaches us and confirms the speedboat is broken. The next one will be Saturday *if* it’s fixed—otherwise, even later. 🤪 😠
We’re crushed. We came here for the Banda Islands… 🙁
We decide waiting five days for a maybe-boat isn’t an option, so we decide to head straight to North Moluccas, which was planned for later. We’re so disappointed we don’t even want to stay in the area. The Lease Islands don’t appeal to us despite what we’ve read, and Seram would deserve its own trip with its remote mountain tribes.
Huge disappointment—we’d been dreaming of Banda for months, with its incredible drop-offs like Bunaken, its islands covered in nutmeg trees, etc. I’d read that Banda is in the world’s top 5, alongside Bunaken (amazing—we went in 2016), Komodo (incredible—we went in 2013), Sipadan, and another spot I’ve forgotten.
We take a taxi back to Ambon (45 minutes) to a travel agency to buy plane tickets to Ternate. There’s a daily ATR72 flight at noon—perfect timing.
Ambon is the capital of South Moluccas (or Central, depending on who you ask!) with 300,000 people. The city doesn’t seem unpleasant, but we don’t stop.
On the plane, there are only about ten passengers for 72 seats. The flight attendants are stunning, as always with Wings Air—clearly, they’re hired for their looks. 😊
Stopover in Bacan—a runway in the middle of coconut trees serving a tiny town—then we fly over countless volcanoes, the last one towering over Ternate.
Bonjour,
De retour sur le forum - et première rédaction d'un espèce de carnet de retour de notre 4ème voyage en Indo.
Contexte : une trentaine de jours, en scooter et en duo, sur Florès (et une petite incursion dans l'archipel de Solor, plus précisément à Lembata (chut, faut pas trop en parler !!!), qui donne envie d'en faire beaucoup plus là bas malgré les infrastructures sporadiques), en partie dans des destinations déjà bien connues du forum (la classique Ruteng / Bajawa / Riung / Moni voir baie de Maumere) ... et qui ne parlera pas du PN de Komodo ou de Wae Rebo, puisque nous n'y sommes pas allés 🏴☠️.
Texte en anglais (issu d'une autre plateforme). Sans nul doute, des traducteurs intelligents ou pas marcheront à merveille en cas d'anglophobie 🤪.
Disponible à toute fin utile pour des détails ou infos.
Equippement : Yam' Nmax 155 ; 2x saccoches cavalières (25L) + sac de selle (30L) + saccoche tunnel (15L pour le matos photo) ; casques et vêtements d'enduro amenés depuis la France.
Itinéraire : boucle depuis Labuan bajo jusqu'à Pulau Lembata ; juillet-août 2026
Road conditions graded from A (excellent) to D (very bad, at least for a Scooter… a CRF/KLX or even honda ADV would do better on that)
D1 : Labuan Bajo – Reok via Ranggoe, Rego & Tagol (130km ; 5hrs). Section LBajo – Rego (90 km ; B) is quite good tarmac, despite a lot of elevation with many small valleys and passes. Rego – Tagol (10km ; D) is a stone road (not gravel), some ascents & very poor condition ; necessary to lower tyre pressure. Tagol – Reok port (22km, quality depends considerably from D to B). Reok port – Towncenter : B. Night @Iffah Homestay (100k for fan room, mandi attached, no breakfast), simple but clean. Notes : path to danau Sano Limbung was closed ; access to Tiwu Pai & Wae Kuli (waterfalls) not permitted in july 2026.
D2 : Reok – Riung via Pota (105km ; 3h-3h30). The road is very narrow in some part, thanks to the uncut bushes (lowering visibility hence extra caution as animals/people can suddenly appear in a turn…) but generally good condition except many eroded sections and some unpaved ones. Grade C/B. 2 nights @Mentos (285k for AC room)
D3 : Boat tour in Riung (booked directly with a captain, 800k for two for private boat incl. lunch and NP fees) + sunset from Watu Mitong Riung (should not be missed).
D4 : Riung – Muku Saki via Mbay (around 100km ; 3h30). Quality varies from A in the vicinity of Mbay to eroded sections (C) in secluded places. Night @Sao Paolo Homestay (250k for fan room with mandi, maybe overpriced but nice house and great food). Note : if you happen to pass by Mbay on Saturday, the market is well worth a stop (cheapest Ikat on the trip : you’ll be asked normal prices providing you’re OK in Bahasa…)
D5 : Muku Saki – Tanjung Kajuwulu (near Ndete) (90km, 3h). Many patholes, eroded (C). Night at Déjà Vu Homestay (220k for a matress on the floor & outside mandi/toilets ; I woud define this as a tourist trap – the quote we had for food was double priced too…)
D6 : Tanjung Kajuwulu – Waiterang (east of Maumere, 55km , 1h30). Pathholes till maumere, then All good (TransFlores), C/A. Night at Sunset Cottage (new concrete room, very serene place ; 270k for AC with bathroom ; much prefered Sunset over Lena House (more customers, more built up).
D7 : Waiterang – Larantuka via Boru and Eputobi (TransFlores ; grade A ; 115km / 2h40). Particularly liked the drink stalls (marked as Rest Area Eputobi) and the out of order aquatic park just before Larantuka (obyej wisata waiplatin). Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay, which is not advertising itself as Larantuka Beach Homestay as some contributor signals here and on goole maps review. Best breakfast of the trip (Cumi Cumi !!!) ; 275k for AC room with bathroom.
D8 : Local Boat (Kapal Kayu) from the main port to Lembata (Lewoleba). Departure 8am ; price 60k/head + 50k for the bike. Stop enroute on Adonara (where we did not stop due to fights between communities). Night @Elmany Homestay (275k for AC room with bathroom, fan room with shared bathroom also available). Whole afternoon at Pantai Hadakewa, fantastic place (good snorkeling, great views of Ile Api aka Gn Lewotolo). Road condition : A (did not expect the TransLembata to be that good…).
D9 : Loop around Ile Api (50km, 2hrs), anticlockwise. Stops enroute at Situs Tulang Paus (whale squeletton), pantai Jotona, pantai Wena (we expected to snorkel from there, but wind was very strong that day), situs Watu Nale, Selat Sonia. The western coast is far less interesting. Road conditions : bad (C) on the eastern side (up to Riangbeda), good (B/A) afterwards. Night @Elmany Homestay.
D10 : Lewoleba – Lamalera via the western and south coast (70km, 2h30). Good road (B) for roughly the first 55km (up to Tapobali), then eroded track for the last 15km (in some parts steep and dangerous) up to Lamalera (D/C). Notes : 1/ Kuma resort denied us the entry for some drink ; 2/Pantai Waijarang « complex » is abandonned but closed with fences ; you can still sneak in ; 3/ some reports advise to skip Bukit Cinta (foreigner entry fee) for Bukit Doa Watomiten (stations of the cross) ; well Bukit Cinta has also been abandonned (well spent money…sic) but remains opened with structures falling (quickly) appart. Night @Lamalera Inn (200k per head including meals ; very basic fan room + attached mandi). Planned 2 nights, spent only one, as it’s the only tenant I had difficulties with (only interested in money, initially stated crazy prices, starts loud music at 6am … and drinking moke at 8am…)
D11 : Trip to Wulandoni for the Barter Market (Saturday only). Bad road (C) along the coast. Had to report at the Kantor upon arrival, which quite surprisingly asked 100k per person (foreigner) to go inside the (outside) market. Other « local » tourists (a group from Jakarta) were not asked to pay. Well, since a market is a public space and not a zoo, we refused payment and enjoyed the activity from the kopi stall next to it. Returned then to Lamalera for the catches of the day, then to Lewoleba via the mountain road (45km, 2 hours). First 10km to Puor is in very bad condition and uphill (D/C). The remaining is on a newly constructed road (A). Note : Air Panas Sabutobo is abandonned and falling apart (again…) but there are still some water pipes along the river that you can enjoy (depending how lucky you are, just with the forest sounds as companion). Night @Elmany Homestay
D12 : Chill day alond the northern coast (Batu Payung, Pantai Hadakewa with lot of snorkeling, drove till Wailolong and backtracked to Pantai Lewolein for more snorkeling (nice canyons there !) and another fantastic sunset over Ile Api (see GMaps pictures)). Night @Elmany Homestay
D13 : Monday weekly market at Pada, southwest of Lewoleba. Renowned but honnestly dont plan any itinerary specifically for it, just an ordinary Kampung weekly market. Returned to Larantuka and Flores with the 12pm local boat (the same boat that leaves from Larantuka at 8am). Same prices as the first leg. Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay
D14 : Larantuka – Waiterang along the northern coast (100km, 3h) via Pantai Kawaliwu, Tewuk Lewokluok (trail is easy to find, very nice snorkelling in a lagoon), Pantai Lato (to my opinion the most beautiful beach on Flores and you’ll be the only visitor, as opposed to Pantai Koka) and Pantai Hia, until rejoining the TransFlores near Nebe. Grade C on the costal eroded road / track. 3 nights @Lena Guesthouse (booked ahead as it fills up quickly, but we prefered its neighbour Sunset Beach Guesthouse)
D15 : Snorkeling trip organised by Lena Guesthouse (200k per head excluding NP fees and lunch)). The drop-off near Pulau Babi is a very nice spot.
D16 : scooter day trip around the Egon Range (too lazy to hike it…), through nice Sikka villages (route : Watublapi, Umauta, Bola, pantai Doreng, Nakatoli, foot of Gn Egon, Air panas Blidit). The track from Natakoli to the foot of Gn Egon is very steep, damaged and wet (with moss) ; I would recommend not to attempt that in case of bad weather.
D17 : Waiterang – Moni (130km, 3h30, transflores grade A/B) via Pantai Koka (refused to pay the mafia entry fee…) and Jopu (some rumah Adat Lio). Stopped at Museum Bikon Blewut, south of Maumere. Very nice artefacts (especially wooden statues from Papuan, great ikat collection) although very disorganized and sadly non-visited (hence masterpieces fall into oblivion). 2 Nights @Liahz Lodge (150k for fan room, basic bathroom… but right next to Air Panas Liasembe (free, no closing time) !!!).
D18 : Sunrise from Kelimutu with a nice weather (stayed until 8.30am). I don’t know if the sunrise is really worth it (lot of people ascending and watching the sunrise – a lot but nothing compared to e.g. Gn Bromo), nearly everyone going down around 7am, then there is virtually nobody. Trip (20km one way, good road B) to Kampung Adat Nggela (Lio). Although the village is habited and mostly out of the beaten path, I have mixed fillings due to the fact that most ladies (some are pushy) try to sell you (bad) pieces of ikat.
D19 : Moni – Ende via Detusoko paddy fields, Kampung Adat Saga (Lio) and Puncak Ndona ; 75km 2h30. We really liked Saga (nice setting on the mountain, friendly villagers, no selling, mix between traditional and more modern houses in that lively village). Sunset from Bukit Raja, on the peninsula with a 360 view on Gn Iya, Gn Meja Kota Ende and the mountains behind. Note : at the end of the road (search for Gunung Meja Tourist Info Center), there is a (sand) track leading to the path. 1/ only intend the track if you have off road driving experience ; 2/ dont trust the walking time stated by Maps.me. Took us 45mins on a steady pace to reach the summit. Night @Hoja Homestay, 300k for a comfortable AC room with bathroom.
D20 : Ende – Bajawa, via Air Panas Mengeruda ; grade A, 120km, 3 hours. Note : don’t plan to short in Mengeruda (Soa), very easy to spend a half day there, especially if playing with local kids. Stay @Cinnamon GH, 250k for double with fan and hot shower (cheaper options with shared hot shower availlable).
D21 : First day in Bajawa : Watu Nari Wowo (Avatar Hill, sic…), Kampung Adat Ngada Tololela & Gurusina (very very friendly people, complementary views of Gn Inerie & Wolo Deru). Sunset from Puncak Manulalu (well… Heaven’s door Bar & Restaurant)
D22 : Second day in Bajawa : Kampung Adat Ngio (hardly visited, best view on Gn Inerie), Air Panas Malanage, Kampung Adat Bena (the most visited Ngada village (after Bela ?) in the area, we went there at the end of the afternoon to avoid tours, early morning would be fine too), and Gunung Wolobobo for a terrific sunset
D23 : returned to Gunung Wolobobo for sunrise with Gn Ebulobo in the distance (search for a track on the eastern slope, near the communication antenna). You can circuit the rim to the usual viewpoint (westside, sunset spot), the path is easy to find. Then took again the road to Aimere, visiting Kampung Adat Belaraghi enroute (the setting is maybe less rewarding than all the previous villages). 56km ; 1h30. The road to Belaraghi is fine, except the final part.
D24 : Aimere – Ruteng (105km, 3h30). Nice detour by the paddy fields of Wodo (southwest of Golo Loni) of Sunset from Golo Curu (nice encounters with locals). Night @Tange GH, 130k for room with outside (private) bathroom, no breakfast.
D25 : Surroundings of Ruteng (paddy fields north and east of ruteng ; Maps.me has funny tracks starting from Kenda), and the rather pleasant city itself (pasar, churches, lapangan). We finally skipped Liang Bua.
D26 : Ruteng - Labuan Bajo (130km, 3h30). No visits of the waterfalls close to the TransFlores (entry fee (with bule prices) + mandatory guide etc…). Sunset from Bukit Hercadi with very few locals (Bukit Sylvia & Bukit Amelia, just south, were packed). 2 nights @Wellamas Homestay, away from the harbour and its advantages/disadvantages. 230k for comfortable AC room with hot shower.
D27 : New road to Golo Mori Convention Center (another big money well spent…), with nice views on the strait separating Flores from Pulau Rinca. Some empty beaches (e.g. Pantai Pasir Pajang ; we were there on a weekday perhaps frequented by people from LBajo only). 30km (40 mins) one way, perhaps the fastest road of Flores…
D28 : Morning on the peninsula north of Labuan Bajo before taking a flight to Jakarta in the afternoon. On Google maps, the asphalt road only goes to Teras Langit ; it now (august 2026) continues to Puncak Basok and is still in progress towards the eastern part of the peninsula. On the way back, two other nice Bukit where you can enjoy nice views on the bay (and the resorts…) : Bukit Lontar & Bukit Beta. Note : we only found one public (and nice and quiet) beach in the area ; tagged as Sunset Point Beach on Gmaps. All the rest was closed by fences ; they are privately owned (although the Indonesian consitution grants the coastline as public space).
We're a family of five: one dad, one mom, and three kids aged 10, 15, and 18.
Before diving into each stop in more detail, here are a few general thoughts:
We wanted to sample a bit of everything Japan has to offer in terms of landscapes, accommodation, and transport. We were after walks, temples, restaurants, shopping, and some downtime—but no "all-inclusive experiences" or museums for this first visit.
Three medium-sized (60x42x25) canvas suitcases, plus a duffel bag and a few small backpacks. 23 kg in the hold on the way out, 60 kg on the way back. 36 kg of shopping, without even trying. I think this is the maximum suitcase size if you don’t want to stress on the Shinkansen: they fit easily in the overhead racks.
Round-trip with Cathay Pacific, layover in Hong Kong: no need to collect luggage in Hong Kong—we checked it in at departure and picked it up in Tokyo, and the same on the way back (checked in Osaka, picked up at our final destination). This let us explore Hong Kong without worrying about our bags. Food and entertainment were pretty good—meals included a little Häagen-Dazs on each flight, and the entertainment had way more Asian cinema than you’d find on a Western airline, which was a nice way to see how much weight Western culture carries in Asia.
The original plan was to fly directly from Ishigaki to Hong Kong, but due to Typhoon Dolphin, we had to cancel the Ishigaki leg. Cathay didn’t bat an eye about swapping the Ishigaki-HK flight for an Osaka-HK one, even though it was twice as long.
We were a bit too attached to the idea of ending the trip with some beach time and replaced Ishigaki with Shirahama. It was a mistake—we should’ve visited Hiroshima or spent a little more time in Tokyo instead.
Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.
It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected.
Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel.
I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability.
So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.
I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:
Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras
Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya
Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat
Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott
Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou
To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog:
From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those sublime doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a bit of saffron, and occasionally some rose water.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (worn during the week and daytime, with colors more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you might see 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 tassel on the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go all out with it! "It smells like the tassel" 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 the burka—more like the 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, and 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 intro! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
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.
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
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.
A little sneak peek?
The karst site:
(In the heart of Albergheria, on a street every visitor walks down—lovely message from an unidentified artist)
Laundry and trucks washed in the same stream.
We’re greeted dozens of times with “Hello Mister”—a daily routine in the Moluccas. Every time we stop, we pose for photos to be saved on locals’ smartphones. They don’t see tourists often.
