My name’s Emilie, and my view of travel has changed. I used to travel just to tick off the "places and things to do/see" boxes. But lately, I’ve realized that encounters have become really important to me while traveling. In fact, the people I’ve met and what they’ve brought to my life are now my best travel memories. What do you think? Have you had a similar shift in perspective? Are you more interested in meeting people while traveling now?
To be totally honest, I’m training to become a travel planner (a trip organizer), and I was thinking of focusing on organizing trips that are more centered around encounters. So I’d love to know if this makes sense—if travelers are interested in this kind of experience. Just to be clear, I’m not selling anything; I just want to chat and hear your thoughts.
becoming a travel planner (travel organizer) and I was thinking of focusing on organizing trips more centered around encounters.
Unscrupulous "agencies" that charge naive tourists exorbitant sums with 300 or 400% margins to help them make connections (often labeled as "authentic") have existed for over twenty years. For the same target audience, there are also specialized agencies for people craving recognition who want to spend 2 or 3 weeks in a supposed "NGO" or similar on the other side of the world to do "volunteering"... that you pay for.
Are you (...) interested in encounters while traveling?
Yes, but for me, they’ve always happened naturally and spontaneously from the start. Until I came across you here, I foolishly thought the same was true for every normal person... Really? Some people need a "travel planner" for that?
I completely agree with Songsam.
The real magic of interesting encounters while traveling is spontaneity and that gut feeling—things that just can’t be planned.
I completely agree with what you’re saying about encounters being spontaneous and unplanned for me too—I don’t claim to want to organize them for travelers.
I’d just like to highlight guesthouses over big hotels, activities with a local rather than renting a boat alone, for example. Simply to emphasize human connections over booking everything through platforms, etc. That’s what I mean by “encouraging encounters.”
Shining a light on human-scale institutions.
And believe it or not, there are plenty of travelers who aren’t interested in meeting people but just want to relax, discover new landscapes, etc... Or at least, it’s not their priority!
And a travel planner isn’t an agency—just travel advice for people who don’t have the time or who don’t like planning their trips (and that exists too!)
I completely agree with you (see my reply in the next post).
But I also know there are people who are afraid of this—of running into the wrong people, getting scammed, etc. So by promoting small establishments (hotels, activities...) instead, I thought it might reassure people to connect with others.
Rather than encounters, it seems to me that what you're actually aiming for is building trust-based relationships with service providers (hotel owners, agencies, various businesses). That’s not the same thing. It’s not about reaching out to others, but about approaching a business with confidence.
This also appeals to people who aren’t looking for "meaningful encounters" but simply want a trustworthy environment wherever they set down their suitcase.
How do you plan to sell advice?
a travel planner isn’t an agency, just travel tips for people who don’t have the time or who don’t like organizing their trips
I think people who don’t have time to search for good tips here and there are the same ones who don’t have time to organize their stay. They’re looking for ready-made solutions (all-inclusive, as they say when they’re trendy).
As for those who *do* have the time to organize their trip themselves, they look for info online first (on this forum, for example).
That’s why I want to "facilitate encounters."
Highlight human-scale institutions.
That means being extremely responsive and connected to the ground, all over the world, to stay on top of the reality of small businesses—which change fast: they open, close, decline, grow, and their managers, owners, and staff change (so trust levels do too...).
I’m having a bit of trouble understanding the service you’re proposing and how you plan to implement it.
Hey, partly it depends on where you're going.
If you're heading to Northern Europe or Canada, the welcome can be a bit cold and distant.
But that doesn’t mean people have bad intentions.
On the other hand, if you go to more southern countries, people are a bit more welcoming—though often expecting a tip, obviously 😉.
I remember meeting an Italian during my first trip to Morocco in Agdz; he was in a group and told me that in Europe, people are cold and he had to deal with moments of loneliness—who knows, maybe he was right. Me, on the other hand, I was traveling solo.
As for hotel hospitality, the worst I’ve experienced was in Singapore.
If you want to meet people, it’s obvious that if you stay in five-star hotels where the vibe is formal, you’ll end up feeling pretty lonely.
But in a youth hostel or a small hotel, you’ll meet other travelers.
Yet every tour operator or big agency has always had a role called "forfaitiste"* whose job is to offer tailor-made services to clients who demand them. It’s a profession that requires such extensive knowledge of destinations and professional contacts that it’s one of the best-paid jobs in tourism. In fact, if forfaitistes are often among the most anticipated (and best-received) guests when a fam trip is organized by a local provider, a region, or a country, it’s no coincidence.
These days, tourism schools may have anglicized the name to make it trendy and more marketable with a lot of hype aimed at students willing to pay a lot to hopefully land a "cool" job later**, but I still can’t shake the feeling that a travel planner is really nothing more than an agency forfaitiste—I see no difference.
I get that for a slightly hipster or pretentious client, it might be more acceptable—or even essential—to contact a "travel planner" (wow!...) rather than an "agency," a word that grates on many people’s ears.
Just to clarify: I don’t work for an agency at all and never travel with their help.
* or "senior forfaitiste," depending on the person’s experience level.
** though I doubt it’s actually that cool when you’re trying to make a decent living from it...
Hi Emilie, travel encounters are a huge topic.
Taking the initiative individually is essential—like learning Albanian and engaging with local communities—you’re guaranteed results.
A real encounter booster is bike travel, which I’ve seen on your site. Traveling by bike with kids is a surefire way to be welcomed everywhere, and people will even refuse payment. Several books explore this theme. Here’s an example:
Solo exploration is essential—like learning Albanian and engaging with locals; you’re guaranteed results.
To me, that’s a bias, a preconceived idea.
For example, Hungarians don’t really appreciate it when you try to speak their language; they find it ridiculous, and anyway, the attempt rarely succeeds.
As for Albanian, honestly, I was in Kosovo the other day, and I think if I’d tried speaking Albanian, it would’ve just made people laugh and led to a response in German or English. I don’t think anyone would’ve been impressed.
The French attitude toward language tends to skew their judgment.
We clearly don’t have the same travel experiences. Since I speak Albanian and have lived in the country, I always receive an incredible welcome there. Back when the entry fee was 15 € by road, the fact that I answered the border guard in Albanian surprised him, and he replied, "It’s free for you." Speaking Spanish well in South America also leads to beautiful exchanges. I also remember conversations in German that left me with unforgettable memories. I specified *speaking*—meaning a strong command—and that takes hundreds of hours of learning over the years. I consider myself fluent in a language when I can read a book, even if a few words escape me. For example, reading books about the Falklands War—untranslated into French—by Argentine authors in Spanish and by British authors in English gives you a sense of how each of these peoples experienced the war. In my opinion, without preparing to engage with another culture, it’s even harder to connect with it.
This is just my way of doing and seeing things. I’ve always built everything around learning languages. Unfortunately, non-European languages have remained out of reach for me. I regret that my father, who spoke fluent literary Arabic, didn’t teach it to me.
Oh, I totally get why you see it that way—it’s actually really admirable and respectable.
I respect that.
But if here on VF you have to explain to a French traveler who just booked a Nantes-Tirana flight for late October that they’ll need to start by tackling an agglutinative language, with no time to learn it and no prior linguistics knowledge, I think it’s gonna be a bit tough.
How old are you?
It’s also kinda a retiree thing, let’s be honest.
If you’ve got a job and kids, you’re not learning Albanian for All Saints’ break.
It’s surprising what you wrote, Mathews—I’ve heard (but never been there myself) that Canadians are really welcoming. Especially Quebecers.
yeah, that’s true—Quebecers are welcoming.
Anglo-Canadians might be more reluctant to welcome French speakers.
Otherwise, be careful about the people you meet—you might very well run into a Jedi while traveling, and Mr. Jojoone won’t be the one to tell me otherwise ;)
I’m not particularly drawn to meeting people while traveling—I much prefer the most remote places possible.
Plus, I find a lot of organized meet-ups pretty sketchy. Pay-to-play interactions have a name, and they’ve got nothing to do with real travel. Others have this human-zoo vibe that’s just plain uncomfortable.
Encounters should be spontaneous, unexpected. I get a flat tire, someone helps me out. I’m lost, someone points me in the right direction. I share a table, I chat with my neighbors. And so on.
Something free!
Definitely not the "visit a 'traditional' family" or "authentic village" tours.
Ponts du monde : concours de photos amical de juillet 2026
Rubrique Jeux Voyages
C'est le moment de poster vos meilleurs clichés !
Yes, unfortunately, I’m not exactly in the prime of my youth anymore, but that doesn’t stop me from still practicing certain sports at pretty high levels.
But that’s not the point. I learned English, German, and Albanian for professional reasons—English and German, like for many, go back to high school, even though I wasn’t the most diligent student. I had to pick them back up later. For a lot of us, we don’t see English as a language but as a work tool, one you can’t get hired without.
I started learning other languages before retirement, especially Spanish. You can always find 20 minutes a day with all the tools available—often very practical and enjoyable. The current Assimil methods, first level and advanced, are a real invitation to learn and give you a solid foundation in the country’s culture. There’s German, English, and Spanish Vocable, articles on just about everything, bilingual books, radio stations. And then you discover you’re able to read books in the language.
A 30-year-old who spends half an hour a day on it—and you *can* always find that time—will speak several languages very well by 40. I’ve always used public transport to learn. Once you pass a certain threshold—you probably know this from your own strong English skills—you read fluently and don’t even realize you’re still learning.
And in cities, there are always foreigners who are crazy about language exchanges. I’ve had a blast playing a fun game: talking with foreigners where they spoke French and I spoke their language. It’s harder than if we’d both stuck to their language, but there are tons of situations that help you improve constantly.
And collecting yak dung to keep warm or eating raw goat liver—you wouldn’t like that?
That kinda reflects a certain existential boredom.
I’m pretty sure I’ve already written about this on the forum a while back.
If you’re bored while traveling, yeah, you’re just doing really superficial activities to please the gringos, so you might as well stay home 🙂
Well, those who know me here know that I love encounters as long as they’re unexpected and spontaneous. So I agree with the majority and avoid anything organized like “meet the authentic Maasai” (who get 10 tourist buses every week 😄). If it’s too complicated to find them myself, I skip it.
In Kenya, I didn’t meet any Maasai, but I did meet an 80-year-old “Karen Blixen,” a rugby player who’s a professor at a university in Mombasa, some reconverted Samburu people, and a bunch of “authentic” Kenyans who don’t live up to tourists’ dreams 😅.
But back to your project—if I understood correctly, I’d be really interested in a place that only gives addresses for small accommodations.
Booking used to show the number of rooms a long time ago, but they stopped giving that info, much to my disappointment. I think only hotels.com still does. So I spend a lot of time searching for that rare gem—a small place with 5 or 6 rooms where the welcome is totally different from big, anonymous hotels.
I feel like I fit the exact profile of the “audience” you’re targeting 😊.
Christelle
Le monde est comme un miroir, si tu lui souris, il te sourit aussi!
Besides, it’s the encounters and what the person brought me that are my best travel memories. What do you think? Have you had this shift in perspective? Are you more interested in meeting people while traveling?
Hello,
My first trips (from 18 to 27/28 years old) were essentially focused on "encounters." My main interest in traveling was meeting indigenous peoples... Getting as far away as possible from the "civilized world" and completely cutting myself off from modernism.
To be totally honest, I’m currently training to become a travel planner (travel organizer), and I was thinking of focusing on trips centered around encounters. So, I’d love to know if this is relevant—if travelers are interested in this kind of trip. Just to clarify, I’m not selling anything; I just want to exchange ideas and get your opinion.
Now, I’ve always been a bit opposed to this kind of concern because, to truly "meet others," it’s better to be alone and not follow anyone’s advice for several reasons. The first is that any organization of this type of trip will quickly become a business and a nuisance to the local culture, leading to a total lack of "authenticity."
The only advice I could give is to follow your instincts.
It seems to me that when you’re deeply motivated by this kind of adventure, the word "organization" no longer has a place...
I’ve always been a bit at odds with this kind of concern because, to truly "meet others," it’s better to be alone and not follow anyone’s advice for several reasons. The first is that any organized approach to this type of travel quickly becomes a business and a nuisance to the local culture, with the corollary being a total lack of authenticity.
The only advice I could give is to follow your instincts.
It seems to me that when you’re deeply motivated by this kind of adventure, the word "organization" no longer has a place...
Exactly. Couldn’t have said it better myself.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Have you thought about doing some market research?
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
But if here on VF you have to explain to a French person who just booked a Nantes-Tirana flight for late October that they’ll need to tackle an agglutinative language, with no time to learn it and no prior linguistics knowledge, I think it’s going to be a bit tough.
How old are you?
It’s also a retiree thing, let’s be honest.
If you have a job and kids, you’re not learning Albanian for All Saints’ Day.
No need to be retired...
It’s true I have a knack for learning languages—I speak several almost fluently (English, German, Russian, Spanish, and another that’s practically extinct). But in every country I’ve visited, I’ve always made the effort to learn the basics of the language. First, the everyday polite phrases, then the essential words and sentences for initial interactions, asking basic questions, and counting...
For me, it only takes 10–15 minutes a day (using intuitive methods like Assimil). It’s always come in handy, especially in Indonesia (basic Indonesian is fairly easy to pick up), where I could hold a "basic" conversation.
PS: In Albania, the people I met were always thrilled that I took an interest in their language. For me, saying hello, goodbye, thank you very much, goodnight, as well as asking how much something costs or where the bus station is in Albanian felt like a no-brainer—even if it was harder for me to pronounce than in Romania, where I spoke the local language!
Thanks for your reply! I agree with that—those touristy excursions to places labeled "authentic" aren’t what I want to offer...
I wouldn’t go for that either. I don’t think we can force people to reach out to others or make connections, but I wanted to create a project that would help restore faith in humanity, with small-scale setups where hosts are generally more available and welcoming, and which (at least for me—you can confirm or deny!) really help make a stay enjoyable. I think this makes my project clearer and less open to misunderstanding!
Thanks for your feedback!
If you're interested, I’ll keep you posted on how my project progresses :)
Hi again Émilie.
I just took a quick look at your blog about your various trips (especially by bike, in Lithuania too, and the Stevenson trail with donkeys). I think it’s really well done and interesting.
In your profile, you mention India as being "impactful"? But I didn’t find anything about that country on your blog. What do you mean by impactful? Why haven’t you written about India?
Good evening Emilie, yes, the bicycle is a great way to immerse yourself, just as you’ve experienced.
What you’re looking to create aligns with your vision, and if you feel it, you should go for it. We can’t escape the fact that in poorer countries, we’re seen as wealthy tourists. That makes establishing real connections difficult—what do we even mean by a "true" or "fruitful" relationship, anyway?
For me, it’s about capturing local experiences in the moment. It’s not about making lasting connections but understanding the diversity of thought on our planet. Sometimes, chance encounters lead to unexpected opportunities.
Here’s an example tied to speaking a somewhat exotic (though European) language: Albanian.
One day, my wife and I were exploring the northern part of Albania, near the Montenegrin and Kosovar borders. At the time of this story, Serbia controlled Kosovo. We stumbled upon a clearing via an unlikely path. A farm sat about a hundred meters from the border. We caught a glimpse of Serbian border guards, who vanished as soon as we looked their way.
We approached the farm, and an elderly Albanian couple invited us in for coffee. My (and my wife’s) fluency in their language allowed us to strike up a conversation, and they shared incredible stories about their lives. They started talking about the war. Intrigued, I asked, *Which war?*
Afghanistan—since the terrorist attack with planes hitting the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. *Why does a war so far from your remote mountain corner interest you?*
Because my daughter lives in New York, and my other son is also in the U.S. My second son, who’s more of a homebody, stopped in Rome.
With a mischievous glint in his eye, he pointed to a phone relay on a hill—on the other side of the border. Then he told me, *"The Serbs help me call my kids in Italy or the U.S."*
That’s the kind of connection language skills can create. Memories like that stay with you for life. For me, not speaking—at least fairly well—the language of the people you meet creates barriers that limit real exchange.
Don’t assume that a decent grasp of English on both sides enables a true dialogue.
Even among Europeans, I refuse to speak English with Germans, preferring German or French.
My son works in aeronautics and collaborates a lot with Germans. At work, they use English. I’d enrolled him in the Goethe Institute for years—admittedly, a bit against his will—but he retained a solid foundation. I advised him to brush up on his German and, whenever possible, drop English with his German colleagues. They really appreciated it.
In aeronautics, where I’ve also worked, I’ve given presentations to Germans. I could’ve stuck to English, but I always made the effort to rework my talks in German, even though they all spoke fluent English. Every time, I received applause. I’m not boasting—it just reinforces my belief that engaging in your interlocutor’s language creates stronger bonds.
I can only recommend diving into languages. The more you learn, the easier it becomes to pick up others. It’s probably a healthy reaction by people to resist the homogenization of our world through English.
You're right—I didn’t take the time to write about India, caught up in daily life but mostly because it took me a while to process that trip. The journey was impactful because of the paradoxes in general, and the intensity of the experience. Paradoxes on several levels: people might try to scam you because you’re a foreigner, but at the same time, they’ll come to help you even if you didn’t ask. The pollution and trash everywhere, yet you see people sweeping the sidewalk in front of their homes. The animals (monkeys, dogs, cows) and humans living in a harmony that’s a bit shaky but still exists. And the honking, the population density, yet people remain very calm and relaxed.
I find all these paradoxes fascinating to observe, and after a lot of reflection, they remind me of the paradox of being human itself. Though that’s just my personal take! :)
And intense—first because of the population density, pollution, noise... The trip was a bit *à la root*: we traveled by train and bus with locals, and it was exhausting at times, but that’s what we came for—to experience India in depth. But also because I did my first humanitarian mission there, and it was rich, *so* rich in learning.
Definitely, I’ll be writing articles about India—there’s so much to share...!
Thanks for sharing! It’s true that learning the language helps you immerse yourself better and connect, and locals really appreciate it :) But yeah, it *does* take time to learn a language. Still, if you’re invited to spend a lot of time in a country you love, I think it’s worth learning the language!
Your comments are really interesting, and I completely agree that immersing yourself in a culture through its language is an unparalleled advantage.
However, just because you speak Albanian or Hungarian, for example, doesn’t mean people won’t still treat you like a foreigner. They might not say—in Albanian or Hungarian, of course—what’s expected, possible, or appropriate to share with an outsider.
As for me, I’m not too keen on putting cultural understanding into words.
Everything can make sense to the observer.
What people eat, buy, how they walk, talk, laugh (or don’t), their clothing, posture, and so on.
Personally, that’s what fascinates me—my inner sociologist.
Hi Michel, I find the discussion in this thread really interesting. My goal isn’t to analyze a culture or a people, but simply to be able to chat spontaneously with folks along the road. I wouldn’t dare attempt that kind of exercise when it comes to civilizations.
For example, deep in the Atacama Desert in Chile, we came across a broken-down truck. The driver asked if we had anything to help him out. We pointed out that we were on bikes and our tools weren’t suited for a truck. That made him smile. He then asked if we had kids, since I was traveling with a globetrotter from the other side of the world. She was 31, and I was 60. We laughed out loud—I used to joke that she was my daughter. Then he told us about his double life, with his wife in La Paz and his mistress in the port of Arica, since he made constant trips between that Pacific city and the Bolivian capital. Flora and I speak Spanish really well, and with that Bolivian trucker, we had a legendary moment on the side of that road under the scorching sun. That’s it—speaking his language made that beautiful exchange possible. We’re far from grand ideas about peoples and also far from general cultural discussions.
Like in Albania the day I gave a commando knife to the chief of a village who had spent his whole life preparing the villagers to resist the arrival of NATO capitalists. In Albanian, friend is *miku* and enemy is *armik*. I’ll never forget his look as he shook my hand, saying *armik* and *miku*. I wouldn’t have grasped everything in his gaze if I hadn’t understood his words. Language lets you capture those fleeting, intensely emotional moments.
Another example: a Czech man hosted my buddy and me while we were cycling across Europe. His wife spoke German really well, and his son spoke great English. They acted as translators. We had an incredible evening. He had been an officer in the Warsaw Pact, and I was in NATO. He told me that in case of an East-West confrontation, the Czech army was meant to oppose France. I could really feel his deep nostalgia for that era when wearing a uniform in Eastern European countries meant prestige and recognition. Without his wife’s and son’s language skills, we wouldn’t have had that in-depth and enlightening conversation.
It’s not about grand ideas but about comparing individual experiences that can’t happen without a good mutual understanding of each other’s language. These chance encounters are what form the backbone of travel for me. For some, these unplanned meetings are just trivialities that disrupt their often well-planned itineraries.
Simply put, I’m convinced that without knowing the language, the connections aren’t as memorable—or they’re different. In some Asian countries where I didn’t master the language (having failed to learn it) and had no common idiom, the exchanges didn’t have the same intensity, even if great encounters are still possible, especially by bike where you’re usually far from the usual tourist routes. Deep in the Gobi Desert, I met a Mongol who had lived in Berlin for 10 years—what an amazing evening.
The only advice I give is to study languages before traveling. But that’s something you build over the long term.
From our discussion on VF, one thing is clear: we don’t all put the same meaning behind the word *travel* and the idea of *encounter*. Our expectations are very different, and that’s a good thing.
Thanks for your reply! I agree with that—tourist excursions into so-called "authentic" communities aren’t what I want to offer either...
Hi Emilie,
I’d love to know what makes a community qualify as "authentic."
And aren’t all European peoples—like the French, Italian, Polish, etc.—authentic too?
To what extent can we even make that claim?
Otherwise, a community that *isn’t* labeled authentic, in my view, is essentially rejecting modernity (à la Lévi-Strauss, maybe?).
You’ve got four hours—thesis, antithesis, I’ll collect the papers in four hours.
It’s like Coluche’s laundry detergent that washes whiter than white and more authentic than authentic—you’ll die...
Anyway, as you meet people along the way, don’t forget you’re the bearer of a certain kind of acculturation—you belong to a very specific national culture.
For anecdotes, I think I’ve already written this on the forum, but during a trip to Tunisia, specifically in Douz, I met two Swiss guys.
We gathered around a table for a meal, and when one of them saw me waiting for the others to eat, he asked, "Aren’t you eating?" I said no, I was waiting for everyone else.
And he goes, "Ah, French culture!"
Hi Emilie,
I’d love to know what makes a people qualify as "authentic."
And after all, aren’t all European peoples—like the French, Italian, Polish, etc.—authentic?
Authentic: very different from us, relatively folkloric, and not influenced by another culture.
Possibly, a people that hasn’t evolved much, which can come off as condescending.
The French people have long been—and are increasingly and more rapidly—a GMO people. What works well attracts others. On a global scale, though, this is just a minor phenomenon.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Good evening Émilie, for me a great master of encounters, who expressed it admirably in his books, Joseph Kessel.
Listen online to his interview about his 1932 book *Bas-Fonds*. And read *Les Temps Sauvages*, an experience dating back to 1919 in Vladivostok.
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Hi everyone, just this once I’m not posting for a travel story, but to share a thought for Venezuela.
If you didn’t know—since it’s not making headlines—the country was hit by two 7.5-magnitude earthquakes last week. Over 2,200 people have died, more than 50,000 are missing, and some coastal towns have been completely destroyed.
Maybe when the scale of the humanitarian crisis becomes clear, our media will cover it a bit more... especially since earthquakes with this many casualties usually make the front page, but there’s been nothing in France.
So here’s a thought for this country, which, whatever you think of its politics, is a true jewel of South America, both for its landscapes and its people.
hi there
I’d like to invite you to discover my coastal province in central Vietnam: Quang Ngai.
This year, my province has really improved its infrastructure—mountains, countryside, and sea are all authentic here.
No harassers or thieves, and no Russians either.
A local lunch costs around 1 €.
A *** hotel room is about 25 €, and you can find hotels right on My Khe Beach.
We have a specialty: *banh xeo*—10 crepes for just 1.5 €.
You can rent motorbikes to explore the province and maybe visit the many ethnic minorities.
I live here—I’m not selling anything, but I can help if needed (my father-in-law is a traditional Vietnamese doctor and he’s very skilled).
Hi everyone! 😉
I’m Typhaine, 35 years old. Five years ago, I left France for a solo round-the-world trip—no planes, just a van, hitchhiking, cycling, and even a canoe in the Amazon! Today, I work as a naturalist guide in Argentine Patagonia.
Wherever I go, my compass stays the same: observing and photographing wildlife, which I deeply admire and respect.
My project: I’d love to share this experience through a sustainable, authentic, and immersive nature tourism initiative. But to build something meaningful, I need to understand how other nature enthusiasts experience their own adventures.
If you:
Are over 20 years old
Have a true passion for Nature
Have already taken at least one trip lasting more than 3 nights (in your country or abroad) in your life
Promise: I’m not selling anything, this isn’t marketing. Your answers are 100% anonymous and will only help me shape this wild project.
A huge thank you to everyone for your help and kindness! Looking forward to chatting in this thread 😛
(Dear admins, this is purely a collaborative effort for my project study, with no commercial purpose. Thank you so much for your support!)
Photo: Grizzly Bear (Ursus arctos horribilis), female on the left and her cub on the right. Photo taken by me in Alaska, Denali National Park.
It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.
A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question.
They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???
Not even a simple thank you!!!
From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕
Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????
I spent 3 weeks in Bali last summer (+ 3 nights on Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java). So I wanted to see what ChatGPT could suggest for comparison...
Here’s the prompt I gave:
"You’re a local expert guide for Bali.
- Plan a 20-day itinerary for Bali with a side trip to Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java without staying overnight.
- I’m traveling with my wife, and I love visiting historical sites, hiking, relaxing at the beach, snorkeling, and exploring rice terraces...
- For the duration of the stay, I don’t want more than 8 places to sleep, and I’d like to stay at least 2 days at each stop to avoid unpacking too often. Except for the last night, where I’m okay with just one night near the airport.
- I prefer neighborhoods that are walkable and try to avoid typical tourist traps, though I don’t want to miss the must-see spots. So suggest a mix of iconic sites and hidden gems.
- Recommend hotels or guesthouses with a budget of 50 to 100 € per night, including breakfast. Make suggestions in areas popular with travelers, specifying the vibe (I prefer quiet), and consider safety and proximity to attractions.
- For lunch and dinner, suggest two to three restaurants that are well-rated by customers.
- Give me a day-by-day program with details on travel times, visiting times for each point of interest, and recommendations for transportation (taxi, train, bike, etc.).
Estimate the total cost of the trip, including accommodations, food, transportation, and activities, and suggest two tips for saving money in each category.
- Don’t make anything up—be realistic about travel times, take into account the opening dates and hours of sites, and give me the entry fees for places to visit.
- Ask me all the questions until you’re 95% sure you understand what’s being asked. Don’t generate your response until you’ve understood."
The AI asked for a few clarifications:
"Great request—I can build you a really optimized and enjoyable itinerary, but to be 95% sure I hit the mark, I need a few key clarifications (this will really influence the pace, areas, and accommodations)."
In the end, it proposed a program very close to what we actually did.
I’ll skip its accommodation and restaurant suggestions...
Its proposal:
"Ubud (4 nights) => we did 5 nights
Sidemen (2 nights)
Amed (3 nights) => we’d planned 2 nights
Gili Meno (3 nights) => we did Gili between Sidemen and Amed
Munduk (3 nights) => we did 2 nights before Pemuteran
Pemuteran (3 nights) with Ijen => we did 4 nights
Sanur (2 nights + 1 last night) => we chose Jatiluwih instead of Sanur
It suggested "activities" (and accommodations too):
IN UBUD:
- Walk around central Ubud (1–2h)
- Campuhan Ridge Walk
- Tegalalang Rice Terrace
- Tirta Empul
- Gunung Kawi
- Massage / market / slow café
IN SIDEMEN:
- Rice terrace hike (2–3h)
- Cooking class
IN AMED:
- Snorkeling
- Japanese Shipwreck
- Beach + relaxation
- Volcano sunset
ON GILI:
- Snorkeling at Gili Meno Turtle Point, Nest Underwater Statues
IN MUNDUK:
- Jungle & waterfall hike - Munduk Waterfall + Melanting Waterfall
- Loop: 3–4h (perfect for your level)
- Ulun Danu Bratan Temple
- Twin Lakes
IN PEMUTERAN
- Snorkeling: Menjangan Island
For Kawah Ijen, it detailed the day well:
👍 from Pemuteran = best possible option
12 PM: leave hotel (we left at 10 PM)
1 PM: ferry
3 PM: arrival in Java + transfer
11 PM: start ascent
2 AM–6 AM: volcano
Return to Bali around 11 AM–12 PM (we got back at 4 PM)
👍 still very intense, but doable with an agency
💰 ~80–120 €/person all-inclusive
IN SANUR:
- Relaxation
- Quiet beach
- Proximity to airport (30 min)"
I’ve kept the habit of blowing my nose in the sink and then washing my hands—a custom I picked up in India. Sometimes, non-travelers are shocked when they catch me in the act... 🤪
Also, when I run out of toilet paper, it doesn’t bother me—unless I’ve got company over... 🤪
Just got back from walking a friend’s dog (while they’re on vacation), wearing a djellaba and Tibetan boots... 😏😏😏 Oh, for sure, if I’d run into locals, I probably would’ve shocked them? 😏
Anyway, as long as I’m not spitting on the floor at a restaurant or squatting on the side of a highway with a water bottle in hand...
After taking a little trip around the world, I came back a few months ago with an idea in mind.
I mostly do diving, and I love observing animals in their natural habitat without disturbing them.
During the trip, I realized it was quite complicated to know where and when to see certain species.
For example:
where to dive with sharks or manta rays
where you might get a chance to swim with whales
I even discovered thresher sharks during my trip… I didn’t even know this species existed before, even though they’re incredible to see.
We spent a ton of time searching for info all over the place, especially on social media, without ever getting a clear picture.
So I started putting all this together on my own, in the form of a map, to make it easier to visualize where to go depending on the seasons.
I recently put a first version online (it’s called Fauneya).
There are probably mistakes, inconsistencies, or things to improve, and that’s partly why I’m posting here.
I’d really love to know how you all go about planning this kind of trip.
As part of my Master’s thesis, I’m currently conducting a public survey on a topic that concerns all of us when planning a trip: artificial intelligence and the role of human contact in travel planning.
These days, we’re using more and more digital tools to find ideas, compare options, and book trips... but is the role of human advisors still essential? At what moments? And for what types of trips?
The survey is anonymous and takes about 7 minutes.
It’s aimed at anyone who travels (or has traveled) for leisure, whether you plan everything yourself or go through an agency.
While browsing the forum to gather info for my upcoming trip to Thailand, I often see the terms "traveler," "great traveler," and also "tourist"—so what’s the nuance for you?
I've traveled quite a bit in Vietnam over the past few years—from the southern delta to bustling cities and even some small islands—but what really sticks with me is the north, the high mountains.
Up there, there's something different—maybe slower, more raw. The morning markets with ethnic groups, women in traditional clothes, the colors...
The stilt houses, kids following you and laughing for no reason, the terraced rice fields—it almost feels unreal at times, so vast and quiet, yet so human and simple.
You often hear that Sapa has become too touristy, and that's partly true, especially in the center. But as soon as you move a little farther away, everything changes quickly. The landscapes open up, encounters feel more natural, and you rediscover something truly authentic.
I think it's that contrast that struck me—the difference between what you imagine before going and what you actually discover when you take the time.
And you—what memory do you hold onto from Vietnam? A particular place that touched you more than others?
Hello,
We’re finalizing the plans for our upcoming trip to China in May 2025. The second-to-last stop will be in Zhangjiajie, where we’ve planned to stay for 2 full days before heading to Shanghai.
We’re traveling solo using local transport and have arranged to stay in the city of Zhangjiajie.
We’ve seen that there’s a lot to see:
Tianmen Mountain, the Grand Canyon and the glass bridge, Zhangjiajie National Park, and that the sites are quite far apart with fairly expensive entry fees.
We’re thinking of dedicating one day to the national park and the Grand Canyon (glass bridge) and one day to Tianmen Mountain.
But we’re not sure if this plan is realistic—any thoughts would be much appreciated!
I should be serving a warming drink to the participants in the discussion about gardens and parks that provide us with beautiful photos, I could mention the delicious buttery scent wafting from bakeries in the thread about returning to France, but my heart, its powerful pulse that nourishes my entire being, is elsewhere.
Dasht-e Lut, Yazd, Esfahan, Bam, Kerman, Qeshm, Hormuz—a melody, a prayer at the heart of desire.
A dream, an unattainable fantasy? No. Not anymore.
A very serious Italian travel agency is organizing this trip for 6 people this winter. I’m signed up, I’m going, I’m living. Maybe.
"But you’re completely crazy!!!!"
I know... I know that every civilization, every society has a vital need to create scapegoats to define and justify itself, pathetically. And Iran is one of them, top of the list. I laugh or sigh, and it doesn’t bother me.
But that unchanging red, deep red and garnet, so beautiful in itself, in all the Western chancelleries repeats, whispers, shouts: don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, you’re putting yourself in danger and we can’t do anything for you. You’ll be turned into mere bargaining chips, into arguments for endless negotiations. Fear must be instilled, its power absolutely preserved, no concessions made to the enemy. The information (how many French hostages, real or fake, compared to the number of travelers?) is always lacking.
Traveling becomes a merciless confrontation between desire, the vital pulse, and anxiety, its ghosts.
Hi everyone, here’s our itinerary. Arriving on the evening of December 13th. Departing on January 7th.
Thanks in advance for your tips and valuable feedback.
Manila – 1 night
Coron – 4 nights
Coron to El Nido cruise – 2 nights
El Nido – 4 nights
Port Barton – 5 nights
Flight from Puerto Princesa to Vigan
Vigan – 2 nights
Sagada – 2 nights
Banaue – 2 nights
Bagabag – 1 night
Manila – 1 night
I’ve only booked the flight to Manila and the Manila/Coron flight so far. Is it possible to book boat trips, accommodations, and the Puerto Princesa flight last-minute?
Really disappointed with Costa Rica! Pura vida? The scam of the century!
(Costa Rica pure emptiness).
The country where animals are free and people are in cages.
3 weeks in December in this country and never again. Imagine the trailer of a movie that seems interesting, and when you go see it, you realize it’s a flop and the best moments were in the trailer.
Well, that’s exactly how we felt with Costa Rica pure emptiness.
My wife and I have traveled quite a bit and didn’t expect to be so wrong about a place.
On the main routes, we visited:
San José
Alajuela
Limón, Cahuita, Puerto Viejo, Manzanillo (Caribbean side)
Jaco, Quepos, Manuel Antonio (Pacific side)
And a few short stops in intermediate towns.
Our dissatisfaction grew gradually like this:
When we arrived at the hotel, the taxi dropped us off on a small street in front of a white metal gate with ground-floor windows barred. We looked at it skeptically, but the sign matched.
He approached the gate, rang the bell, the buzzer sounded, and the door opened slightly. The hotel wasn’t bad for the price, a 10-minute walk from downtown, but with a "Fleury-Mérogis" vibe guaranteed.
So far, so good.
After showering and regaining our bearings, we headed downtown.
What started to unsettle us on the way was seeing houses with bars on the ground-floor windows and even on the second floor.
At first, we thought the hotel’s neighborhood wasn’t great.
Downtown San José:
It’s a generic city, not very exotic, with a pedestrian street and a small mercado where you can eat local food without frills. Very few tourists—if any—which let you blend in with the locals. We had lunch and struggled to make ourselves understood because, aside from one or two shops, English wasn’t spoken.
On the way back to the hotel, we took a different route, and while chatting and strolling, my wife pointed out a beautiful two-story white house completely barricaded like Fort Knox.
From that moment, we started noticing the facades of houses and buildings, and wow, it was creepy—most looked like prisons, some even with barbed wire.
Though put off, we told ourselves it was probably a big-city thing and the rest of the country couldn’t be like this.
So far, so good.
We relaxed at the hotel and had a drink at the bar. Night falls early, around 5:30 PM. By 7:30 PM, we headed back downtown for dinner. A bit unsettling for a capital—downtown was almost deserted, and aside from fast-food chains, very few restaurants were open, with hardly anyone on the streets.
Bars with security guards out front.
I won’t say we felt unsafe that night, but once it got dark, we realized the bars on the windows weren’t for nothing. First day in, and our impression was already mixed.
The next day, we explored the city and surroundings, and our feelings didn’t change.
So far, so good.
Off to Cahuita by bus—4 hours of travel.
The landscapes are very green but quickly become monotonous. The road runs alongside the forest and passes through a few towns and villages, and even in the countryside, there were just as many prison-like houses.
The bus dropped us off at Cahuita’s terminal station—only four of us got off. It’s a village, or rather, a small town. Cahuita is basically one straight road and a perpendicular one, and honestly, doubt started to creep in.
A few restaurants that add 13% tax and 10% service charge—so 23% extra. We dropped our stuff at the hotel and went to explore. In 20 minutes, we’d seen it all. We had lunch and planned to check out the famous park.
Entry is by donation—well, the "entry" is a joke. There’s a path along the forest by the sea, and that’s it.
Nothing’s going right anymore.
We thought it was a total scam, but since we hadn’t gone far, we decided to come back the next day to explore further.
We returned to the hotel, relaxed, and around 8:00 PM, we went out for dinner. Only two restaurants were open, and the streets were deserted.
Creepy!
The next day, we explored the so-called park more thoroughly and really got it.
A path along the forest by the sea—2 hours there and 2 hours back, where you see animals that feel like showing their faces.
A total joke—"all that for this?"
The beach was full of wood debris and coconut husks. We wondered if the photos online were edited because the sea, very rough, wasn’t the azure blue we’d seen in pictures.
But calling this a park is a joke—it’s like a new concept.
When we thought about the reviews online, we started to suspect that professionals with interests in the country were monitoring and countering any negative feedback that could harm their business.
Too bad we didn’t check the negative reviews beforehand—we did while we were there, and it helped. We wondered if we’d become too demanding after all our travels, but no—when something’s bad, it’s bad.
Manuel Antonio’s park is even more ridiculous—there’s a short path along the sea for about 500 meters, and then nothing. You have to climb through mud and hack your way through the forest. We ended up barefoot because the mud was up to our calves. All that to see a raccoon and a few parrots flying overhead.
We didn’t expect Noah’s Ark, but we’ve seen more animals in Bali, Mexico, and Thailand while visiting temples or just walking around than in these so-called parks!
Puerto Viejo, not far from Cahuita and supposedly livelier—well, it couldn’t be worse!
According to Lonely Planet, it had a Caribbean vibe and wild nights, but maybe that was a long time ago. The good reggae music playing everywhere isn’t enough.
In the evening, Puerto Viejo was a bit livelier than Cahuita, but that’s not saying much. Very few tourists—if any—no night market, just two or three shops open selling $20 T-shirts. Same vibe as San José.
No big deal—we enjoyed the beach and the sun, which was reliable.
Our itinerary was supposed to include Tortuguero Park, but after talking to other travelers who’d just been, we changed our minds, knowing we’d be visiting Manuel Antonio Park on the Pacific side.
To get back to the Pacific side, you have to take the bus and go through San José again—5 hours this time—then switch bus terminals and another 4.5 hours to Quepos.
A stopover town to get to Manuel Antonio’s beach and park!
A town just like the others we’d seen—deserted as soon as the sun sets, and not exactly bustling during the day either. (Where are all the tourists?)
Still as many bars on the windows and that feeling of being in the wrong place.
7 km later: Manuel Antonio beach and park.
The beach is very beautiful and quite large, but don’t expect turquoise blue water—the waves stir up the sand, giving the water a brownish color.
Along the beach, shops and restaurants for about 300 meters, and then nothing. At night, after sunset, the town shuts down too.
Manuel Antonio Park is highly praised for its wildlife, so we were eager to see it. When you express dissatisfaction with Cahuita or Manzanillo parks, the response is always, "But you should’ve gone to Monteverde or Manuel Antonio!" No matter what you do or say, they’ll tell you, "You should’ve gone there or here."
Back to our famous park—entry was about $16, and contrary to what we’d heard, it wasn’t crowded!
Guides at the entrance with spotting scopes offered their services for about $30.
The park: a mix of boardwalk and dirt paths through the forest, sometimes running alongside beautiful coves and beaches.
As soon as we entered, a crowd was taking photos of a deer eating leaves.
A little further on, a guide with a group of five stopped. The guide raised his arm and set up his spotting scope! He showed them, about 100 meters away, a hummingbird perched on a branch. Some, looking through the scope, exclaimed, "Oh my God! Amazing! Incredible!"
For a moment, we thought they’d discovered a unicorn or were in Jurassic Park and had just crossed paths with a T-Rex!
The concept is comical—looking at a bird or another animal through a spotting scope because it’s too far away. Isn’t that what TV is for?
For our part, we saw monkeys, ants, an armadillo, an iguana, and the backside of a sloth climbing a tree. Amazing, incredible!
We stayed a few days in Manuel Antonio to enjoy the beach, changing hotels often because prices varied wildly from one day to the next for shameful services. On top of that, they’d quote a price in dollars and convert it at their discretion—thieves!
Alajuela, a city near the airport, has a two-story mall and a local market downtown! No interest except its proximity to the airport.
What we liked:
The climate and, in hindsight, San José—the most authentic city we visited.
What we didn’t like, in addition to what we’ve already mentioned:
Costa Ricans aren’t very friendly or communicative. English is barely spoken, not even by doctors at Quepos Hospital, where my wife ended up with food poisoning (thanks, Google Translate). The widespread obesity among Costa Ricans, who eat like Americans. The insecurity. The eco-hipsters who leave their $150 lodges in minivans with guides to visit parks and other sites, then return to barricade themselves in their fortresses at nightfall (oh my God, amazing, incredible). The blue signs at the entrance of towns that accept this payment method: "We accept American Express." Parking lots that become paid just because a guy is watching your car. Prices displayed in dollars. The cost of living (hotels, restaurants, taxes). Landscapes that are too green and not flowery enough. Beaches—nothing exceptional. Pollution in cities where big American trucks rule. Sewage dumped directly into the sea. Aside from the jungle, there’s nothing to visit—no ruins, monuments, or anything worth seeing.
In short, my wife and I think the hype about this supposedly eco-friendly country is overrated. It’s just the trendy destination of the moment. There are much better, cheaper, and more authentic places.
In hindsight, we keep the good memories and our beautiful photos, but if we had to do it over...
Before signing off, a little message to those who don’t like hearing opinions different from theirs:
Well, some things aren’t up for debate. And to those who’d have us believe that in 3 weeks, we don’t have the right to criticize a country or express our feelings—how can you praise it in so little time? What a scam. Costa Rica is a money pit. Pura vida? Pure cosmic emptiness.
If you like spending your evenings barricaded in your cozy hotel after dark, this country is for you.
For everyone else: run!
Hello,
Since the war between Russia and Ukraine, nothing is simple anymore for traveling to Belarus due to sanctions.
No more direct flights from the EU to Minsk.
Driving is a huge hassle, especially crossing through Poland at the only open border in Brest—you can wait 2, 3, or even 4 days just to get through by car.
The least painful driving option is to come via Lithuania and cross at the only open border, with a minimum wait time of 8 hours, sometimes up to 20 hours or more!!
Controls are very strict and annoying on both the Lithuanian and Belarusian sides. Avoid bringing alcohol, food, or cigarettes—everything will end up in the trash, especially when leaving Belarus for Vilnius, where the Lithuanians are tough, even with EU citizens.
The joy I once knew when visiting my wife in Minsk is sadly over—it’s now a real ordeal.
The fastest solution is to fly. My wife travels to France by taking a bus to Kaunas in Lithuania, where you can catch a flight (though not daily) to Paris Beauvais or Charleroi in Belgium with Ryanair, for example.
For the return trip, it’s the same: a flight to Kaunas and then a direct bus from the airport to Minsk.
The bus crossing is quicker than driving—the 250 km journey, including border checks, takes about 6 to 8 hours for buses leaving Lithuania around midnight, but controls are still strict at the border.
The biggest challenge is finding flight schedules that align with the bus routes between the two countries, given the unpredictable border crossing times.
Now, my wife travels via Charleroi in Belgium (near Brussels), and you can take a train to Paris. Alternatively, you can fly into Beauvais and take a bus to Paris (Porte Maillot).
For those driving, note that EU insurance and assistance policies no longer work in Belarus or Russia. You’ll need to get local insurance, usually limited to third-party liability (I don’t think full coverage exists?), as well as mandatory medical insurance. This is available at the border.
You now have to pay highway tolls—no more BELTOLL boxes. Instead, you pay a flat fee for the duration of your stay. Stop at the first gas station after crossing from Lithuania to fill up on fuel and cigarettes.
From what I know, Lithuania bans carrying more than 60 € in cash, but there’s no limit for USD (though it’s capped at $10,000??).
With a Visa card, you can now withdraw 1,000 rubles per week (about 270 €)—two months ago, it was only 500 rubles!!
For now, you can still pay by card in shops and gas stations.
However, major retailers like KORONA (which may be Russian-owned??) no longer accept foreign Visa cards.
Unfortunately, the additional sanctions announced by the U.S. on August 5, 2025, against Russia—and possibly Belarus—aren’t promising for the future.
After 20 years of visiting Belarus, I’m truly saddened to see the joy of living in this country with my wonderful wife turn into such a bleak situation, all because of human folly.
Hi everyone!
I’m putting together our travel itinerary for Veneto at the end of April. And the more I look and research potential sites to visit, the more I find!
We’ll only be there for a week—my family and I—including 3 days in Venice. So we have to make some choices...
I plan to rent a car when we arrive in Venice and head straight to Bergamo, which would be our first stop. We’d leave the car at the airport when we return to Venice so we can explore the city at our leisure.
What do you think:
1 night in Bergamo (a 2h15 drive from Venice airport),
1 night in Garda,
1 night in Verona,
1 in Padua, and
3 in Venice—would that be doable?
Thanks in advance for your tips and experiences! :)
Now that the curtain has fallen on the past year, it’s time to see what’s happening around here.
It seems pretty quiet, but I’ll read more in detail later.
First, I need to tell you all an anecdote.
My eldest little girl, in her third year of law school, was really scared she wouldn’t pass the year.
I told her:
“Trust yourself, you’ve worked so hard, and worst case, if you fail, you’ll just redo the year.”
“But I don’t think I’ll make it—they changed the rules, and if I mess up even one unit, I have to start all over.”
I knew her grades weren’t exactly stellar, and with what I was about to say, I wasn’t taking much of a risk.
“Here’s the deal, sweetheart: if you pass, I promise I’ll take you to India, just the two of us.”
I have to admit, India is a country I’ve talked about so much to all my grandchildren that in their minds, it’s become a magical, mythical place (hmm).
July had barely begun when my phone rang, her name flashing on the screen.
“Mamido, I did it!”
My promise came rushing back—oh no, oh no, oh no!
“Congratulations, sweetheart!”
A little shyly, she said:
“Is the India trip still on?”
And me, replying:
“Of course it is!”
And that’s that—a promise is a promise, or you risk losing that precious trust that keeps hearts warm and at peace.
We’re leaving in February. Only 8 days—yikes, the carbon footprint!
But we can’t miss her tutorials, or she’ll be kicked out.
Personally, that works just fine for me.
Going to India has become a challenge for me. It’s far, it’s exhausting, I sweat, I hate mosquitoes, the spices bother my mouth when I used to love them. There’s noise all the time—at night, the dogs bark nonstop, and we almost get run over. I’ll get lost in the streets because my sense of direction has vanished. I don’t like rice anymore. All that chaos and those cultural differences that once enchanted me now just overwhelm me.
But I promised.
The upside—and it’s a big one—Raman, the same driver I’ve had forever, will be at the airport with a sign with our names. We’ll stop at the same little shop for chai (or tea, plain and simple) with that aroma that intoxicates me, halfway through the trip.
It’ll be a tiny trip—staying with friends, I’ll show her a few places I love: Chidambaram, Mamallapuram, and the clinic where I worked. Then we’ll head back.
My little girl will go home to her parents.
As for me, I’ll leave right away for our Scottish island with Homme for our chilly winter.
How can you love a country so much you want to live there, then suddenly reject it, no longer able to appreciate what once made it special?
That’s the mystery of love, I guess.
I’ve visited the U.S. four times myself, including two long road trips. The last one was just this past August...
I won’t be going back. I already felt guilty last August, but recent policies have finally convinced me: the humiliation of Zelensky, authoritarian excesses, Gestapo-like methods for detaining people of foreign origin, the murder of innocent people (a mother shot dead), corruption, insane "tariffs," skyrocketing healthcare costs for Americans, the abduction of foreign figures to secure oil, the requirement to disclose social media accounts, and now... threats and blackmail to forcibly take Greenland—a region that belongs to Denmark and thus the European Union!
The reality is that simply posting this could get me denied entry to the U.S.!
In this context, I just can’t keep spending money there. I loved my trips, but there are so many other countries with stunning landscapes to explore.
So I get why you’d want to travel there. I did, and I loved it. But once a country no longer respects any of the values that made us love it, why go?
How can we even consider traveling to a country that threatens to take one of our territories by force?
Hello everyone,
Controversial topic? Not necessarily—maybe just a reflection on a world to come.
I spent the last 15 days of August on a cruise in Greenland, from Kangerlussuaq to Tasiilaq.
I was utterly amazed by this unique world of rock and ice, the little houses in every color, a simple life that’s also complicated by isolation and climate, among other things...
I carry in my heart the kindness of the people I met, the raw and gentle majesty of the icebergs, the colors of the sky...
So, I can’t even imagine a massive presence of raw material prospectors, heavy machinery requiring roads to be built—if that’s even possible—changing their way of life... putting sled dogs out to pasture!
Do fast food and Greenland’s northern lights really mix?
I wouldn’t trade my memories for an ESTA!
All opinions are respectable, which is why this isn’t a controversy—but I’m sorry, I have a soft spot for *my* Greenland.
We’re a couple aged 58 and 63. We’ve just returned from a wonderful trip to South India in Tamil Nadu and a few days in Kerala. We traveled with a local French-speaking guide and his friend, the driver. They both live in Pondicherry. We spent 3 weeks with them in the most authentic way!
We covered just over 2,500 km and visited not only temples but also archaeological sites, museums, and small artisanal businesses making tiles, tea, sculptures, bronze, and silk spinning. We were lucky enough to visit a public school, attend a wedding, and even a death announcement in a small countryside village. We were fully immersed in the culture, food, noise, and colors—it was incredible!
The hotels and guesthouses we chose were very clean and mostly quiet. We’re returning from India with amazing discoveries!
We’re happy to share more info if you’d like!
M-Claire and Jean
This catchy and somewhat mysterious title comes from several questions I’ve been asking myself.
VF has been back open for a reasonable number of weeks and months now.
The number of visitors overall matches past averages, but the number of members online in the last 24 hours seems relatively lower than what we used to see.
Yet, to my surprise, I’m seeing fewer travel journals, way fewer messages, and way fewer questions.
I don’t see many new registered users online, and I notice a number of members who are logged in but either aren’t participating or have stopped participating.
Something’s not adding up for me because, in my opinion, VF is still appealing, and I don’t see which other sites could really compete.
Was there a real break between pre- and post-Covid?
Does it just take more time for some people to discover the site or learn that it’s active again?
Do people now prefer quick consumption on sites like FB or others I’m not familiar with?
Where have the site’s old-timers gone, and what are they doing with their time now?
What’s really going on here?
This isn’t exactly a traveler’s question... I’d like to know who handles the technical side of this forum?
I run a similar forum on a different topic (unrecognized children), and we’re dealing with a few technical issues that are slowly killing our forum... so I’d have one or two questions to ask 😊.
Also, I was wondering who created this forum... who the administrators or moderators are, etc.
I think this forum is great. Much better than Facebook, which I’ve been using since it shut down (so I’m happy to see it’s working again...)
Hi there, I’ve been traveling for 18 years now, at least 6 months a year, and as the years go by, I actually enjoy coming back to France more and more—a feeling I struggled with at first. I mean, we always think the grass is greener elsewhere.
But in the end, I find meaning in that saying about how there’s no place like home. I still love traveling just as much, but now my trips are shorter, and I enjoy spending more time in our beautiful country, even though I don’t hesitate to criticize it.
How about you? How do you handle coming back from your travels?
A few years ago, I went with a group of friends to lend a hand at a small rural school near Thiès, Senegal.
It was a relaxed but hardworking atmosphere—hands in the mortar, laughter, exchanges, and everything that a COOPERATION project can bring.
Today, the little project is flying on its own.
Wanting to explore Senegal’s riches, we set off for some tourism in the Siné Saloum. One girl in our group fell ill (a malaria attack), and we decided to take her to see a doctor at a large tourist complex nearby. Despite her condition, we had to "show our credentials" (if I may say so) just to get in. She was treated and has been fine since.
This "stop" at a Club Med-style resort with a Teutonic twist—resembling Le Grau-du-Roi but fancier—was a horror show for us: pools, massive artificial basins dyed blue, pink, or green (!!!!), animators shouting around wet T-shirt contests or coconut tree climbing, and sunburned (or sun-pinked) *toubabs*.
The entire hotel was surrounded by a huge wall, behind which a small souvenir-seller slum had sprung up, worthy of Dakar’s outer neighborhoods.
On leaving, we saw a minibus of guests returning from an "excursion," loaded with masks, fabrics, and djembés—African souvenirs?
Maybe those will be *theirs*?
What impression did the kids clustered at the hotel gates get?
What about the Black servers in "traditional African costumes," serving cocktails and ice cream nonstop?
For me, who experienced Africa very young and in the bush, this remains a haunting image.
On VF, this kind of vacation doesn’t seem to be the norm among users, and that’s exactly why I signed up.
Have you ever experienced this kind of interstellar travel?
Do you understand the Martians?
Are their motivations peaceful?
I’ve been wondering: Is it still reasonable to rent a car in the U.S.?
Apparently, since early January 2025—and very quietly—the most important insurance coverage, namely the driver’s civil liability, has seen its coverage amount drop from $1 million to just $300,000. This coverage is supposed to protect us from damages we might be responsible for while driving. We can go decades without a single scrape (especially if it’s our fault), but anything can happen in a split second. A motorcycle appearing out of nowhere, a misjudgment at one of those huge intersections with staggered traffic lights, and suddenly we could be deemed at fault for the accident. We’d then have to pay out of pocket for the other party’s medical expenses. Given what hospitals charge... it can easily exceed $300,000 and turn into a nightmare in no time!!! Plus, anyone who’s driven on American roads has seen those billboards for lawyers offering their services to accident victims. So on top of the sky-high medical bill, the lawyer will demand compensation worthy of a Hollywood movie!!!! So, is it even worth getting behind the wheel in America anymore? Well... that’s just my take! And on top of that, I haven’t found any insurance company that offers such high civil liability coverage. Chapka and others do offer coverage in the millions, but motor vehicles are excluded.... So here’s the thing... Unless I’ve "missed something," I’ve come to this conclusion: Renting a car in the U.S. is like playing Russian roulette! But maybe I’m being too pessimistic? What do you think?
My two bullfighting traditions when I'm back home in Camargue (France) and in Colombia (Caribbean) every time I return. 🤠
Details:
Bullfights (corridas) aren’t part of my two bullfighting traditions, but I respect those who attend them!!!
In these two ancestral bullfighting traditions—which aren’t bullfights—the Bulls and Toros aren’t killed or tortured, as some might think.
These are bull games where the animals return to their pastures afterward and only come back to the Arenas 2–3 times a year at most.
They spend 15 minutes in the ring for the Camarguais and 5 minutes for the Toros in the Colombian Corralejas.
They’re cared for and pampered. They’ll die of old age in miles of open fields.
The young people who face them are professionals, risking their lives to support their families and live their Passion for the Toro!!! 😄
https://youtu.be/yYKQer42HoQ
Colombian Corraleja in the link below (hope it works) 🤪
https://fb.watch/BMfmuCgQpG/
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