Here’s our third travel journal with photos, following Vietnam in 2012 and Southern Thailand + Angkor in 2013.
Once again, we’d like to thank everyone who brightens up this site with their experiences and tips. Every year, some parts of our itinerary are made easier or richer thanks to your contributions.
We hope our own story will do the same for other travelers.
**10 JULY 2014**
We booked our flight tickets back in September to get a better deal than last year. We were happy with the 1291 € price for two people from Paris—until mid-January, when several airlines started offering promotions we hadn’t expected for our travel dates. Next year, we’ll take the gamble and wait longer, hoping to fly with Qatar Airways, for example.
Fate had us flying with Indian Airlines. The Paris-to-Delhi leg was on a brand-new Boeing Dreamliner—obviously fresh off the assembly line. After a quick four-hour layover to stretch our legs, we boarded an Airbus A321 that looked prehistoric for the Delhi-to-Bangkok flight. Honestly, if the outside of the plane had matched the inside, we’d never have made it. Broken screens, shattered armrests—you name it.
As for the meal trays, we would’ve devoured them only after a week stranded on a desert island. The cabin crew didn’t win us over either. And we really didn’t appreciate the behavior, attitudes, or stares from most of the people we encountered during our layovers in Delhi.
This year’s experience has definitely put us off flying with this airline again—or even setting foot in India ever again. That’s just our personal take, but it’s clear.
Stepping onto Thai soil was an immense relief. After exchanging just a few euros, we took a taxi from the designated spot and had a completely different experience from last year: the driver was normal and efficient. So efficient, in fact, that we arrived at our destination much earlier than expected. A well-deserved tip, and it seemed to make his day.
We dropped our bags at reception and rushed to Harmonique restaurant, just 300 meters away, just in time for the last dinner service.
We’d talked about this place at length last year. We’d been looking forward to it for a year, but we only managed to nibble on some spring rolls because what we really wanted was a good night’s sleep. While quite a few customers were still around, four staff members walked through the dining area with two large trash bins from the day’s service.
They were clearly pleased with themselves and having a good laugh. It made us chuckle too—seeing something like that done so naturally, when back home, some people would’ve been outraged to witness it in a similar establishment!
A quick word about the Swan Hotel: we’re grateful to those who recommended it on this site and on their blogs. It’s quietly located in the Silom district, just steps from the river. We have fond memories of the giant, ultra-comfortable bed and the well-maintained pool. It was very peaceful, though we were there during a quieter season. At 30 € with breakfast when we booked (and around 20 € without breakfast now), we can’t imagine finding a better-suited hotel in Bangkok.
**11 JULY**
We couldn’t find an open bank and had to withdraw cash from an ATM. Now we know: July 11 is a public holiday in Thailand. It suddenly occurred to us that next year, we’ll keep some baht from our return trip to save time at the airport and avoid little hiccups like this.
We decided not to head straight to Laos and instead spent the day visiting Muang Boran, also known as Ancient City, about 30 km southeast of Bangkok.
There are plenty of ways to get there. We ruled out taxis—too expensive. Besides, we enjoy using local transport; it’s more fun. We took a taxi to Democracy Monument, then found the bus stop about 100 meters from the roundabout, on one of the avenues leading to it. Someone always points you in the right direction. We hopped on bus 511 for a long ride, with two major slowdowns at red lights. The same happened on the way back, as our route crossed busier roads. We told the driver our destination, and he let us know when to get off. No problem—someone already flagged us down 20 meters later to put us in a *songthaew* (a shared taxi-van) that took us straight to the site. The bus and *songthaew* fares were minimal. Already, the people around us were smiling, and we were smiling back.
The entrance fee has gone up: 700 baht. That includes bike rental, a tour minibus, and a boat ride on the river. We still hadn’t fully recovered from the flight, and with the heavy, humid heat, we opted for the electric cart instead—no regrets. Still, 150 baht per hour.
We had an amazing day, beyond our expectations. The park features full-scale or scaled-down replicas of Thailand’s main landmarks, along with countless statues and landscaped gardens. There are also reconstructions of a typical Thai village, a northern Thai village, a farm with animals, and a floating village.
Almost everything we saw was well-made and aesthetically pleasing. The whole place is absolutely worth the trip. We spent six solid hours there without dawdling.
Here’s a very incomplete sample of what we admired:
Visitors will find restrooms, restaurants, and a few shops scattered throughout the site.
On the way back, just cross the road using the pedestrian bridge about 250 meters to the left of the exit. Flag down a *songthaew* as it passes.
The whole day flew by between the visit and the commute. We still had time to return to Harmonique to try their famous crab curry. Once you’ve finished it, you think—life isn’t so bad after all.
« 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
So we decided to take the tourist highway through northern Laos. The choice of words is a little nod to those obsessed with untouched or isolated spaces, the ones who are fixated on "I’m a tourist but I avoid other tourists like the plague," those who regularly come to the forum to prove they’re the only real adventurers moving through unknown territories.
But how can you call it a tourist highway in such exotic, disorienting places, where every day unfolds far from familiar faces, food, language, and comforts? And besides, you’ve got to start by discovering these countries. What’s more, most of the most remarkable sites just happen to be on that tourist highway. What a joke!
We took a flight to Luang Prabang to save time. From above, in the minutes before landing, the region looks stunning. Still, there’s a thick layer of clouds, and we can’t help but wonder if the bad weather we’ve avoided for the past two years is about to take its revenge this time.
We can confirm that upon arrival, the immigration officer was satisfied with a 30-year-old photo. Since it’s the weekend, the visa costs $31 instead of $30.
No one rushes us at the airport exit. In fact, there doesn’t seem to be any competition. The ride to the city center is $7 for two, or you can walk. So we hop in the minivan.
The Lao Blossom Hotel, which we’d booked for two nights, turned out to be our worst choice of the trip. The owner is Chinese, and sometimes you can manage to get a smile out of her. The place is aesthetically pretty, but here’s the thing: the ACs are faulty, lightbulbs are broken, the bathrooms have doors without handles that you can’t get out of without help, and most of all, the beds are as hard as life itself. Aside from the coffee, breakfast didn’t whet our appetite.
As usual, the first tuk-tuk we take isn’t great—except, of course, at tripling the fare. We need to exchange money, and the driver insists on taking us to banks, all closed on Saturday. It’s about to turn into a nightmare. In situations like this, you’ve got to ask to stop when you pass a decent hotel. The reception always has bilingual staff. Here, a very polite young man stands up: "May I help you, sir?", takes the time to step outside, and talks to our driver. Two minutes later, we’re at the post office’s exchange bureau, the one that doesn’t charge fees. With pockets full of thick wads of cash, we’re temporary millionaires.
We have the driver take us to the Mekong River and easily find the Lamache restaurant recommended by Larsay, our esteemed acquaintance who’s a regular on the Vietnam forum. It’s always a great tip: long opening hours, a wide selection of dishes, quality and quantity on the plate for a low price, good pad thai, and very smiley young staff.
We’re so happy under the shade of these huge trees, watching the milky-brown Mekong, its boatmen, and life going on across the river. That special moment when another one of our dreams starts to come true...
The afternoon is well underway, and we study our map before starting, just west of the city center, with Wat That. If you don’t like temples, you might want to skip this part of the travel journal!
Nothing extraordinary, but there’s always a gong being struck, monks chanting, worshippers praying, and animals wandering around. We soak up the Asian atmosphere without ever getting enough of it.
Next, a quick stop at the nearby Wat Hosiang Voravihane—same vibe.
On a roll, we head straight to Wat Mai. It’s here that we nearly had a disaster. The photographer sets up her tripod just past the half-dozen steps leading into the temple. The monks are praying.
Just as the photo is taken, a hornet goes for her. She’s focused and, caught off guard, takes two steps back. Unfortunately, a metal rod was fixed to the last step, and down she goes, camera and tripod in hand. Meanwhile, I’m inspecting the courtyard a little farther away and suddenly find myself in a pure nightmare—everything in slow motion, muffled: a thud on each step, a spray of blood, a body face-down on the ground, not moving.
At first, you stupidly think about that Canon she’s so attached to, then immediately wonder if it’s death or a coma. In a country where travel is slow and medical facilities are limited, right when the vacation’s just begun, your mind goes to dark places.
The next few minutes showed us the photographer had survived, and the blood was just from a small scratch on her nose. There were a few bruises all over. The medical checkup back home revealed a cracked rib on the side and a broken scapula. Oh, and aside from two small scratches, the camera is intact and working. The survival instinct of her prized possession!
In the end, the trip’s itinerary was followed, though some days were lighter, and a few were a bit painful...
After a shower and a forced rest, a slow walk takes us to a convenience store selling some pharmaceutical products. In a small street, women run stalls with lots of raw or cooked food. You pick what you want and fill your plate for 10,000 kyat—less than 1 €. The alley is packed with young backpackers who don’t hold back, turning their plates into mountains...
That evening, we’re not feeling too clever. We go to bed a little bitter on our hard bed, hoping there won’t be any nasty surprises when we wake up.
« 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
A broken rib—ouch, poor thing! But what a joy to find your new travel journal! Keep sharing your stories, even if it means going to bed a little late... I just got back from Asia too, and thanks to you, it feels like I’m extending the trip by a few more days. Thanks so much!
Two minutes later, we're at the post office exchange counter—the one that doesn’t charge fees. With pockets full of thick wads of cash, we’re fleeting millionaires.
What a vibe! A real joy to read.[;]
Il n'y a pas d'ennemi, seulement parfois de bonnes bouffées de haine...
( JR)
Awesome, a new travel journal!!!! I'm savoring it... So lucky the fall wasn't serious (it reminds me of memories of... me taking a big plunge into a rice paddy near Ubud, Bali, holding my Canon tightly in my arms...). The Canon survived, and so did I, more or less (though I still needed an osteopath when I got back...).
By the way, Joël, in Laos, it's kips... not kyats (that's in Myanmar)... We also spent a week in Luang Prabang three years ago and really enjoyed our stay (at Paradise Hotel, with a pool, some really nice bungalows on the other side of the little river whose name I've forgotten, and close to the airport).
I can't wait to read the rest to compare it with my impressions of Laos, while I prepare for my trip next February to Myanmar and... Thailand (again)!
you know, between the sawadee kip and the sabaidee kyat, it all ends up getting mixed up. But as you might guess, Dany, it was obviously just to check if you were paying attention! We’ll try to finish this travel journal before February...
« 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
Of course, only one of us slept well. We’re surprised to wake up at eleven o’clock. Madame has a new look—everyone’s going to think her man beats her!
We spend the day in the UNESCO-listed part of the city, bordered on one side by the Mekong and on the other by the Nam Khan River, with the tip ending at the confluence. This area is about 800 meters by 200 meters. The charm is immediate, and it’s no surprise the site is listed and so many travelers love the place. The rehabilitation was done efficiently, and we stroll through an area where pretty local and colonial houses follow one after another, sometimes separated by a temple, all set in a lush green landscape. We don’t know which alley to take—each one invites you to wander. Of course, there seem to be as many guesthouses as there are residents.
The weather is quite changeable, and a stormy spell first brings a welcome cool-down, followed by a quarter-hour of less-welcome heavy rain. That was the only one of the day, and thank goodness. Just a stone’s throw from the confluence stands the famous and ancient Wat Xieng Thong, best known for its Tree of Enlightenment made of glass mosaic (entry: 20,000 kips per person, a price that’s generally the same for all paid visits). But the adjoining chapels are just as interesting, including one with a reclining Buddha.
Since we arrived more from the Mekong side, we continue the loop along the river. As it’s narrower, the opposite bank is closer, and the lush vegetation makes the landscape even more vibrant. The sun finally decides to show up, adding to the effect. We don’t realize it at first, but when we run our hands through our hair, it’s burning hot. After the umbrella, the cap.
After stopping at a shaded riverside café, we gradually make our way back toward the city center, given all the detours we take, and stumble upon a pharmacy. The owner and her husband are charming sixty-somethings, and we have a lovely chat—made even easier by their perfect French. We leave with the necessary balms and pills.
In a shop, we find local cigarettes, Honghua, made in Savannakhet. The pack costs 5,000 kips, meaning a carton for less than the price of a pack in France.
We’d noticed earlier that the Tamarind restaurant was closed, with no sign explaining why. So we went to dinner at Apsara, right next door. This isn’t a casual café—it’s more of a gourmet spot. Without holding back, the bill comes to 30 €. The place stands out for its stunning decor and has a lovely terrace. Choosing from the menu isn’t easy, with options like caramelized buffalo cheeks or double-cooked duck. The salads are just as original and packed with flavor. The coconut sorbet, made by an artisanal ice cream maker, perfectly rounds off the meal. Those who get the chance to try it might want to hurry—the Canadian manager and her Australian chef husband are a bit worn out and may move on to new horizons by the end of the year. The need for constant presence (because with Lao employees, one day off and everything goes to pot—er, I mean, pear-shaped...)
« 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
I agree with your take on buying flight tickets well in advance (in your case, 10 months!!). We were diligently tracking ours for November since June, only to book them recently, and we realized the best fares (with decent flight times) were still around 500 € round-trip. We’ve concluded that the only real advantage of booking tickets early is having more choice for departure/arrival times and taking advantage of pre-travel promotions (like SNCF deals). Plus, we’re now skeptical about the usefulness of booking through comparison sites—payment fees and other charges often bring the final price up to what the airline charges directly.
I took note of your review of Indian Airlines—I’ll add it to my "blacklist."
Your report on Muang Boran/Ancient City was really interesting! We’ve never visited, so I’m adding it to our "to-do list." And of course, it’s hard to resist the call of the Harmonic!!!
We wanted to break up our stay in Luang Prabang with a short getaway to the north. Switching up the places we visit makes our trips more varied and complete. Maybe it even gives us the feeling that our vacation is longer...
The day before, we booked our seats on a minibus to Nong Khiaw at a travel agency we passed by. Since the village is almost 200 kilometers away, the trip takes a good three hours. The non-negotiable price was 150,000 kips per person. The road conditions were pretty decent, though slightly better on the first half of the journey than the second. Toward the end, the landscape gets more and more beautiful—it’s really encouraging.
We arrived at the small bus station under the scorching sun, about two kilometers from Nong Khiaw.
You can’t miss the impressive limestone cliffs on either side of the road. A big tuk-tuk took us all to our respective hotels for 10,000 kips.
We chose the Vongmany guesthouse for one night at just over eleven euros. It wasn’t the cheapest, but it turned out to be a great find. Sure, we were a little disappointed when we first walked into our room—our grandparents with modest means probably lived in places like this in the early 1950s. Still, there was a working shower and a not-too-uncomfortable bed. We could tell we’d entered a different world.
But then, what a view! From the balcony, you could see the gardens, the river, the village, the Chinese bridge, and the surrounding peaks. That single glance made the trip worth it!
The guesthouse had a covered but open-air dining area. We had lunch there and quickly realized its culinary reputation was well-deserved—everything we were served was excellent, including the spring rolls, and there was a great selection on the menu.
The family running the place was genuinely friendly and welcoming, and communication was easy.
Since we only had the afternoon, we didn’t go on a long hike. The owner called a tuk-tuk for us to visit a small waterfall. The driver asked for an outrageous price—something like 200,000 kips—and didn’t speak English. We called the owner for help and managed to get it down to 50,000.
The upside of the tuk-tuk was the breeze while we were moving—it was a temporary relief on such a hot day.
The waterfall was tiny, but we enjoyed watching kids playing in it.
There was a village nearby. It wasn’t very lively—some people had gone about their business, and many were probably napping. Mostly, there were kids. For the third year in a row, we were struck by how adorable all these little ones were, especially the girls with their bowl cuts, braids, or pigtails, not to mention their slippers with cartoon characters peeking out from the toes.
Chickens, pigs, and ducks were everywhere, with the road as their playground. Watching it all, we thought that apart from the road and motorized vehicles, what we were seeing wasn’t so different from what this place might have looked like decades—or even centuries—ago.
What’s certain, and it kept being confirmed, is that even a short visit to one of these villages is an opportunity to take tons of photos. You don’t need to go to the most remote corners of the country to find authenticity. In fact, at this spot, the remote corners weren’t that far away...
We took the tuk-tuk back and asked the driver to drop us off a kilometer before Nong Khiaw, where we’d spotted another village on the way in. We walked the rest of the way—it was just what we felt like doing.
At the small shop, we found the same packs of cigarettes for 3,500 kips that we’d bought for 5,000 in Luang Prabang not long before. The girls in the shop gathered around to see the foreigners, and we had to pull out a notebook to communicate better—everyone was laughing easily.
Back in Nong Khiaw, we took our time strolling around, crossed the bridge built by the Chinese, and wandered through the old part of the village.
It was a nice change from the hustle and bustle of some of the places we stay. By the river, we chatted with a boatman on the dock who really wanted to take us for a ride, but we’d already be doing plenty of boating the next day and couldn’t hire everyone.
In the evening, it was so pleasant to dream while gazing at the view—it was hard to look away...
« 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
At dawn, on the balcony, we’re struck by the sight: day breaks over Nong Khiaw as thick misty bands embrace the surrounding peaks, then reluctantly drift away to make room for the next. The rest of the landscape, slightly lower, is lit by a pale light. It’s as if the sky has lowered several notches in a painting where the surreal and the magical compete. Not every morning offers such a spectacle. When the sun appears, it breaks some of the charm but makes up for it by restoring color to the panorama.
Breakfast is surprisingly good at Vongmany’s—they served us the best jam of all our stays in Asia. And for a French person, that’s no small detail. We take the time to tell them how much we appreciated it before leaving, and it clearly makes them as happy as it does us.
We arrive at the dock at 11 a.m. to take the boat to Muang Ngoi. These long, narrow boats that navigate rivers and streams are so picturesque. My partner manages to get us "first class" access to suffer less: the six large seats at the front, which look like they might’ve been taken from a bus or a plane. The other passengers are packed tightly in a small space, squeezed against each other, knees tucked in, and sitting on bare wooden benches. Let’s be honest—it’s not the height of comfort.
The trip lasts almost exactly an hour, the hull is low, and you can touch the water by stretching out your arm. Tropical vegetation covers the nearby hills, with small mountains in the background. We’re happy to see the large bamboo clusters again, which we’d discovered with delight in Vietnam. Brief stops now and then allow someone to disembark and deliver mail or a package. If the recipient isn’t there, the letter is tossed into their boat...
When we arrive, the feeling of being in a remote corner is much stronger. A large rigid white plastic block lets us step from the boat to solid ground. This time, there’s no road. We’re gathering our bags when a young Westerner approaches us, looking a bit worried, asking if we know where we’re going. This was the only undefined stop on our trip—we’d planned to go to a guesthouse at the foot of the hill, already recommended by some. What convinced us was that the owner sold his place without being pushy. The best argument was that the rooms faced the river and it wasn’t far to walk. He explained that he’s married to a Laotian woman, that they’d just bought the place and fixed it up. When he turned to lead the way, seeing his jean shorts—let’s just say they were *very* distressed with a large tear in the back—we thought it’d be a good idea to help him get back on his feet.
Our room, facing the river, offered a lovely view, a perfectly decent bed, a mosquito net, but a weak fan. A really honest deal for five dollars.
We quickly went to eat at the nearest family-run canteen. The family’s kid, a confident 10-year-old, took our orders—pretty funny in his little-man act.
We thought we’d have to settle for mediocre food in this remote spot, but we ended up enjoying it once again.
During this quick stop, no time to waste. We had to find someone to take us a bit further north—we’d heard great things about the route toward Muang Khoua.
So we set off again in a motorboat with a young man from the village. The goal was to go up the river for an hour before returning to the starting point.
Very quickly, the breeze over the water brought some relief from the heat. Along the banks, the scenery shifted from tropical vegetation to jungle, which we found very pleasant to look at. Where others might glance briefly, these untouched spaces make us want to linger. It’s a joy to see these preserved areas.
We weren’t too keen on visiting the village by the river, a visit automatically included in the "mini motorboat excursion" package. We imagined a fake authentic village, with stalls and dozens of pot-bellied tourists pretending to live the great adventure among blasé locals dressed in colorful costumes. We decided not to say no thanks because the young guy seemed programmed to take us there, but also because it’d give us a break before the return trip.
Once we docked, climbed the bank, and went up a few steps, another world appeared around the bend: a real, clean village, well laid out with wide paths between groups of houses. A very peaceful atmosphere, a sense of serenity. No one around except the locals. Only our young guide seemed anxious—he took great care to make us walk straight back and forth and seemed to suffer every time we strayed from the path to look at a plant, say hi to a child, or chat with a weaver. Yet the people we spoke to were cheerful. It was as if the village visit was a concession to tourism, as long as it didn’t bother the residents. If that’s the case, it’s understandable.
On the other hand, there’s no objection to checking out the local crafts. In front of some houses, the women’s creations are displayed. We saw two or three of them working at their looms.
When we manage to make one of the villagers understand our question, she tells us that making one piece takes five to seven days. You can really tell it’s not mass-produced. We prefer to buy here rather than in tourist hotspots. At two different places, we choose some pretty scarves and don’t haggle over the price set at 50,000 kips.
On the way back, the sun starts to set, and both the angle of the light and its intensity reveal the place in a new way. In some spots, the high cliffs are closer to the river, and every glance toward the horizon brings its share of satisfaction.
Another treat follows at the local restaurant before a night without AC—a little less comfortable than usual.
When nature calls at night, and you’ve forgotten to keep the flashlight nearby, and you don’t want to turn on the light to avoid waking your partner, it’s possible—when you push aside the mosquito net and get up—to wonder if you’re about to step on a friendly snake or a cheerful scorpion. But usually, that doesn’t happen.
« 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
We woke up before six, and for the second time in two days, the sight that greeted us outside was breathtaking. It felt like we were alone with the river, the jungle, the hills, and the mist.
There’s a path behind the village that supposedly leads to a pretty valley. We’d planned to take a walk in the cool morning air, but our plans were about to change. We’d barely stepped out and reached the main road when we spotted several groups of women waiting. A little further up, people dressed in orange were approaching. Of course—here too, it’s time for the alms-giving to the monks!
We’d actually skipped the alms-giving in Luang Prabang because it felt a bit overdone, almost too touristy, especially with people flashing cameras in the monks’ faces. Seeing them arrive in this small village—unexpectedly—was so much better for us. We kept a low profile and didn’t miss a moment.
After they passed, we were about to leave when, after being served by another group of women, the monks stopped and started chanting. We’re always mesmerized when we hear chanting in temples, and this time, we didn’t miss a single note.
After breakfast, we walked through the village and realized it was even more authentic than we’d thought. The whole place is basically one giant farm. We kept having to resist the urge to photograph everything—almost everything was photogenic.
We set off toward the valley, but unfortunately, we didn’t have enough time, and with the mosquitoes starting to attack, we turned back, crossing paths with farmers heading to their plots of land.
The boat we took to Nong Khiaw looked like it was about to fall apart and was taking on water through a cracked plank at the front. After a while, the engine died. But they were resourceful, and after fifteen minutes, we were on our way again—though we weren’t entirely sure we’d make it.
The minibus ride to Luang Prabang went smoothly. Oddly enough, this time, the first part of the route seemed less bumpy.
The tuk-tuk we took in Luang Prabang initially quoted us five times the reasonable price.
We chose the My Dream Boutique Resort, on the other side of the river. It’s at the higher end of what we usually pick in Asia, but it has a well-maintained pool and a lovely tropical garden right by the river. The young manager, who’s local, really stands out for his friendliness and efficiency.
In the afternoon, we just relaxed.
We took the free shuttle in the late afternoon to pop into town and had dinner at Café Toui. The Lao chef opened this tiny spot after working with some French chefs. We can only recommend his selection of Lao specialties—there’s a touch of fine dining, even in the portions, which aren’t huge. It’s worth the trip, though the prices aren’t what they used to be.
We’ll continue exploring Luang Prabang tomorrow.
« 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
Thanks to you, JOJOONE1!
What a marvel this travel journal of northern Laos is.
Ah, waking up in the morning in Muang Noi, which I visited twice a long time ago, and seeing that little has changed—except for the plastic dock, which is probably more practical than the wobbly planks that could send you for a little dip in the river.
The sunrise, the sunset, far from any hustle and bustle.
THANK YOU++++++++++ for such a vivid account!
You have a gift—keep it and keep delighting us with your stories.
Anne
This dock also doubles as a diving board for the village kids. Now that I think about it, I once helped an older Australian guy—kind of a rugged traveler—who was trying to grab onto it to pull himself out of the water but couldn’t because the dock is pretty thick and slippery when you’re wet. Apparently, he’d decided to take a dip to cool off and had swum for a bit too long. When we ran into him the next day, he told me I’d saved his life, but I think he was joking.
It’s also a chance to thank you for letting us know how much you’re enjoying our travel journal, as well as the other readers (who, in our opinion, aren’t nearly as many as we’d hoped) who’ve already reacted...
« 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
Thanks for the details about the pier.
You liked the SWAN HOTEL in Bangkok, which I’ve been visiting for at least 10 years ("it’s my second home," said the manager!!!). I can leave clothes and other items in their storage for up to 4 months max (I store my warm clothes there because last year, when I went to South Korea, I had to bring warm clothes).
What’s more, it’s really close to the CHAO PHRAYA and, most importantly, two excellent restaurants:
the Islamic restaurant right across the street (great value for money and amazing homemade yogurts—the owner is lovely),
and especially L’Harmonique, which has become my go-to spot!!! Excellent value for money for the crab curry, and everything is perfect, especially the atmosphere (not to mention the charming owners who greet you in the little patio).
All the best,
For me, it’ll be Taiwan in April...
Safe travels, and thanks again for your stories.
Anne
Hello and thank you!
Your travel journal takes me on a journey and helps me plan my trip to Laos from February 1st to 7th, 2015.
Should I prioritize Luang Prabang and take the bus, or do the Mekong descent from Huay Xai to Luang Prabang by slow boat?
Thanks!
(To get to 2%.)
We start our day by bravely climbing Mount Phousi. It’s not difficult in itself—this time, the steps are well-spaced, and the climb is relatively short. But back in Luang Prabang, we’re hit with that heavy, humid weather that makes you sweat nonstop.
Before tackling the climb, we stop to greet the musician playing in the street to make a living.
Just a few steps higher, we spot a small, somewhat neglected wat made of wood, with an old-world feel. We love finding buildings that have escaped renovation—it gives us the impression of seeing them as they once were. Inside, you can see mural frescoes in varying states of preservation.
At the top, there’s a lovely view—on one side, the city, and on the other, the river.
We just pop into the grounds of the former royal palace. No museum visit—we’ve often been disappointed by Asian museums. We take a quick look at the king’s statue and the small collection of American cars from the 1950s–60s. Unfortunately, they’re not well-maintained.
On our way back, we spend some time in two adjacent wats. The first, Wat Aham, isn’t particularly interesting, except for the old stupa facing it.
But we absolutely loved Wat Visoun. Even though it burned down at the end of the 19th century, it was almost immediately rebuilt. There’s a lot of wood, and we felt a warmer atmosphere here than elsewhere. We counted at least eight emerald Buddhas of different sizes. There are many ancient statues and sculptures. The most surprising thing is that some of them are real masterpieces, scattered or even piled up at the back of the wat, too sheltered from the light and not enough from the dust. Some pieces are in poor condition—what a shame...
We’ve learned not to push it in the afternoon, so we only visit the pool.
In the evening, we take a little stroll around the neighborhood. There are quite a few huge houses belonging to the newly rich lining the street. It contrasts sharply with the modest locals you see around.
We made the mistake of trying some skewers—you can’t win every time! Here, they make skewers with nothing but chicken fat. The first two bites are okay, but after that, you start feeling queasy. Tonight, we’ll settle for pineapple.
« 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
Hi,
Well, I’m one of the 1,650 who’ve been quietly following along and really enjoying your story. It’s making me *so* want to go...
Quick question: did the rain affect your trip at all?
Honestly, we’ve also read travel journals that we really enjoyed. Sometimes with photos that made us want to dive right into the screen. We haven’t always left a comment either. Whether the journal is successful or not, it’s already a great effort to share.
Don’t worry, when we look back at what we’ve done, especially in winter, it makes us want to go back so badly.
As for the rain, as you’ll see later, there was a bit of everything. Overall, we were still very lucky, but only just. This time of year, you can expect anything. The two and a half days of non-stop rain we had in early August two years ago in Vietnam were long—really long.
Generally, the sky is blue in the early morning, turns white for the rest of the day, and showers pop up now and then, usually in the evening. But we all know the climate isn’t as stable as it was a few decades ago. At least, that’s what everyone says...,
« 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
I'm waiting for the rest about the rain. I've been wondering a lot because I'd love to travel to these regions when the rice fields are green and there's activity in the fields, but I've taken a few trips during the rainy season—especially in Costa Rica, where I was told there would just be showers in the late afternoon, but the rain still really got in the way. Since then, I've been wary.
Thank you sooooo much Joel for this beautiful story and amazing photos.....
So.... I’m changing my itinerary and from Xouiesai, instead of taking the classic boat trip to LPrabang, I’ll be doing a loop via Oudomxai, Muang Khua, and Muang Ngoi.
Thank you sooooo much Joel for this beautiful story and great photos .....
So .... I’m changing my itinerary and from Xouiesai, instead of heading to LPrabang with the classic boat trip, I’ll do a loop via Oudomxai, Muang Khua, and Muang Ngoi.
Have a great day!
Hi everyone, is it better to do the loop to Muang Ngoi or take the classic Mekong descent and spend 2 days in Vang Vieng? Either way, I’ve got a week.
For a discovery trip—people, towns, and landscapes—backpacking style.
Thanks for your input!
The day before, we booked a tuk-tuk for the morning. The guy picks us up at the hotel and right off the bat, he’s absolutely hilarious. Since he later makes a few references to marijuana, we quickly figure out why he was so happy during the few hours we spent together.
Word must be going around in the area because several people approached us about it.
When he stops in the suburbs to buy drinks, we take the opportunity to restock on the same cigarettes we’d bought earlier. This time, after paying 50,000 for a carton downtown and then 35,000 in a small village, it’s 25,000 at this little shop. Go figure...
After a half-hour drive through the forest, we arrive at Kuang Si Falls. A five-minute easy walk and we discover this series of small tiered waterfalls with beautifully colored water.
At the end, there’s a much bigger waterfall.
We’re early risers, so the temperature isn’t too high yet, but the humidity is at its peak. It’s a gorgeous spot. If you look up, you can see some impressive, sturdy trees.
Don’t forget that near the entrance, there’s a bear sanctuary as part of a rescue and conservation program.
Here too, lots of curious hornets took an interest in us. The infrequent use of chemicals in this country leaves plenty of room for certain insects.
We take our time for another lunch by the Mekong, where we can’t help but share with a particularly hungry cat. The owner tells us she’s just had kittens.
In the historic center, we visit our last wats. The first one is mainly interesting for its garden—it’s the Wat, the Watchoum, uh... well, you get the idea:
The second one, Wat Xieng Mouane, is closed for the third time we’ve passed by. The sign says no...
We just see young monks taking a sculpture lesson as part of a UNESCO program.
Finally, just behind it, the Xieng Mouane house, recently turned into a museum and even more recently with a paid entrance.
By late afternoon, the little Dutch kid who spends his time jumping like a maniac in the pool is driving us absolutely nuts. It’s true—we’re well on our way to becoming grumpy old farts.
Evening thunderstorms keep us from going out. Another chance to die laughing (or cringe for them) while flipping through the various Asian channels...
« 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
I’m one of the silent readers who really enjoys the travel stories, the style, and of course the photos! Keep it up :)
I’m struggling to picture how big tourism is in these East Asian countries (I’ve never been there yet—my trip is planned in 2 years!). Are there a lot of tourists? The idea, especially for small local villages, is to feel immersed in the local culture, and well… if you run into tourists at every corner…
It's beautiful... well, for a bunch of grumpy old folks, you're not too bad—you even have such an open view of your surroundings that I'm starting to wish I was only surrounded by grumpy old folks!
Mission accomplished: because of you, I now want to go to Laos, and it's totally impossible right now!
Anyway, what's up with that bear? How big is it? Is it the famous bear whose bile cures everything in Chinese medicine? It doesn't look too good...
With the global population constantly growing, there are inevitably more tourists everywhere each year than the year before. We can't reasonably expect all these people to go somewhere other than where we go ourselves. Due to economic shifts, we might see fewer Westerners in Asia and more Russians, Chinese, or Indians.
Of course, a large proportion of tourists head mainly to the most famous spots. We have to be content with the fact that, for now, there are still countries where parts of the territory remain untouched—beautiful places that aren’t yet touristy. I don’t even dare to think what it’ll be like in a few decades at this rate.
Everywhere, there’s still a big difference between high season and the rest of the year. Thailand in July? Honestly, it’s fine. Laos, Myanmar, and Vietnam are still relatively quiet destinations.
As for immersion, that’s a pretty subjective idea. True immersion would mean living with and among a local family, cooking and working with them, settling for their pastimes... After a few days, many of us would probably run for the hills!
No, really, as soon as you land there, it’s total culture shock. People are generally decent, the food is great, and some landscapes are extraordinary. Don’t give up just because of a few doubts.
« 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
Hi there,
Once again, I’d like to thank Jojooine1 for their summary on LAOS and tourism in neighboring countries.
A BRIEF OVERVIEW OF LAOS, AND LUANG PRABANG FOR THOSE LUCKY ENOUGH TO DISCOVER THIS WONDERFUL COUNTRY.
I had the chance to visit LAOS 10 years ago and have been back at least 5 times since...
It’s a magical country that’s worth the effort because the roads are pretty rough, winding (with some impressive cliffs), and there are lots of twists and turns... but the people are charming and calm.
Of course, you’ll hear the neighbors say they’re lazybones!!!
Last year in Luang Prabang, I found myself on the evening of my arrival looking for accommodation. Everyone was offering crazy prices in USD, but in the end, I found the best guesthouse in all of Laos (or almost, except for ZUELA in Luang Prabang, which is the top spot in the north) right across from the French cultural center, in the city center.
The Lao family spoke little English (their kids did), and I had a large room with AC, a bedside table, and a bedside lamp (unbelievable!!), plus a balcony overlooking the cultural center—all for 10 €, or 100,000 kip.
So I highly recommend KINNALY GUEST HOUSE to everyone.
Wake up early because the alms-giving ceremony to the monks takes place right below the guesthouse, but it’s better to go to the street across the way for a bit of peace.
Great breakfast with an amazing fresh fruit salad (yum!) just across from the guesthouse.
I can’t recommend the morning market enough,
and of course, the night market with its food stalls at super low prices.
Along the banks of the MEKONG, not far from LAO LU LODGE Street, there’s a restaurant that offers an all-you-can-eat buffet for 7 or 8 €—barbecue, salads, fruit, and ice cream!!! Who could ask for more? It’s full of Lao families and, of course, a few tourist groups, but how do you avoid them unless you go into a cave...
If you have time, cross the Mekong and take a stroll on the other side: beautiful wats in the jungle and no tourists... a nice change.
Excellent massages at the RED CROSS, and you’ll also be helping students of traditional massage pay for their studies. (Don’t forget that many young people are poor, and if their families live in the countryside, it’s hard for them to afford education... not everyone is the child of a restaurant or hotel owner.)
If you’d like more details, I can send you a full guide on LAOS.
Van Vieng has changed a lot, and the landscapes are breathtaking, especially in the evening or morning, so go quickly.....
The plan was ambitious for our last day in Luang Prabang. We took the ferry for 5000 kips to cross to the other side of the Mekong.
You can take loops of varying lengths with villages, caves, and temples along the way.
Probably the ideal way to do it would be by bicycle.
Since we had to walk, we didn’t have a precise plan—just do as much as possible.
In the end, only the first half-hour went smoothly. The first village made a great impression with its narrow paved street, just wide enough for a tuk-tuk to pass.
Even though it’s just a stone’s throw from the city, it feels far away.
The sky had been threatening all day, and suddenly the downpours started one after another. Some young girls kindly opened their door to shelter us when it really started pouring.
No more pavement—just huge puddles everywhere, a dark horizon, and a few aches resurfacing for my partner. No point pushing it when you’re not feeling up to it.
Back at the little Lamache restaurant, dry and relieved we’d done most of the sightseeing the previous days.
We’d just be able to relax a bit in the late afternoon in the hotel garden by the river.
We’re just hoping our trip south will leave some of those clouds behind. Well, it’s July, it’s the north—we knew what we were getting into…
« 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
I went to Laos two years in a row but no rain since it was early in the year. Your story and photos bring back great memories and make me want to go back. Thanks.
This story fascinates me, just like the previous ones... Beautiful writing and stunning photos—you two really complement each other! It reminds me of our trip in March 2011... We did the Mekong River descent from Huay Xai to Pakbeng, where we spent 3 days. Then, we continued to Luang Prabang, where we stayed for a week. We loved this little town, its many wats, its countless monks, its morning market, and even more, the evening market (they sell beautiful handicrafts and, surprisingly, gorgeous duvet covers—we bought two, ordering real "made-to-measure" ones—ordered one day and received them the next evening!).
Most hotels were already quite expensive, but we still found a small resort (bungalows) on the other side of the Nam Khan River that offered a great price (around $45 at the time) and had a lovely pool! That’s very rare in Luang Prabang (unless you have a *very* well-filled wallet). It was the Luang Prabang Paradise.
I can’t wait to read your impressions of southern Laos (we continued to Vientiane, Pakse, and Si Phan Don before flying to Siem Reap, Cambodia).
The minibus to Vang Vieng costs us 120,000 kips per person, which is about 11 euros. The trip takes six hours instead of the advertised five. There were two scheduled stops, including one for lunch.
It seems this is the most beautiful road in Laos. Well, we wouldn’t know. A light rain kept us company for almost the entire journey. Since we were driving through the mountains, we did get a good look at the clouds—because we were right inside them.
There are two or three resorts and a bunch of guesthouses in this small town, but not many classic hotels. We’d decided on the Silver Naga, with a room for 26 euros. The receptionist is friendly and immediately tells us he’s upgrading us. So instead of a view of the back, we get a side view. As soon as we open the window, we notice a row of rooms above ours occupied by young people with strong American accents, shouting to each other from window to window. We have a vague feeling something’s not going to go well. You should always trust your gut. We head down to reception, and sure enough, it pays to ask: without batting an eye, the receptionist gives us another room. This time, it’s a clear double upgrade—the room is nicer, and most importantly, we have the best possible view of the river and the limestone peaks. But there’s a catch: low clouds block most of the scenery, and we wonder if we’ll see anything over the next two days...
We pop over to the other side of the toll bridge to Noé’s place, a French guy who runs the Mango Guesthouse. We were hoping to do a tour with him since he organizes jeep trips for half a day or a full day.
He honestly tells us that given the state of the route, there’ll be too many bumps and jolts for my wife to handle. We’ll have to find another solution.
After turning back, we head to Chaleun, one of the restaurants with a good reputation. There’s indeed a wide selection of decent-quality dishes, a free shake in the evening, and very friendly staff.
Across the street, we see a few places that have been accurately described on many sites: big TVs playing the American series *Friends* on loop, young Anglo-Saxons in swimsuits and often barefoot, some of them looking a bit out of it, and blaring music. At this time of year, it’s not exactly crowded, and you can tell the wild heyday is, for now at least, a thing of the past.
Even though we’re heading back in the rain, we decide to explore the area on foot the next day—if it turns out to be possible.
« 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
We had an excellent breakfast at Silver Naga. There was a much wider selection of fruit than elsewhere, and some of these fruits were of better quality than usual. The main reason for our satisfaction was the cinnamon buns without raisins—so good they could have come from a top French bakery. We wondered where they got them and who made them. In any case, it was a first for us.
There are two loops to do around Vang Vieng: the west loop and the east loop. The longer and more beautiful one is the west loop. Due to constraints, we walked as much of the west loop as we could on foot.
Unlike any other mode of transportation, walking lets us soak in the landscape and all its details most intensely, so no regrets—quite the opposite.
Like the day before, we took the wooden toll bridge, its entrance framed by remnants of American bombs.
Just a little further on, we had to turn left. Everything is marked in the guidebooks, you can easily get a map in town, and anyway, just ask for directions to the Blue Lagoon—anyone there will know how to point you.
Once again, we found ourselves in a situation we love: after a few dozen meters on a straight, rocky path, we stepped into another world—rice fields, villagers, and karst massifs. It would be a whole day of drinking in the scenery...
The few raindrops at the start of the route made us appreciate the long break we’d get afterward even more. Every now and then, we had to weave between potholes filled with rainwater from the day before, sometimes even walk along fences or skip a shortcut because of the amount of standing water blocking the path—but nothing insurmountable.
All along the way, we saw smiling faces: from the little boy on his doorstep to the family running the small shop where we quenched our thirst, to the farmer selling homemade fruit in the middle of nowhere, the little girl carrying her sister on her back, or the kids bathing naked in the river, having the time of their lives.
It was all so pretty and charming—even better than we’d hoped. Honestly, the place made a better impression on us than the terrestrial Halong Bay...
We already felt like we’d crossed the country after walking the seven kilometers to the Blue Lagoon (also a paid entrance), where we were thrilled to sit at a table under the trees and enjoy a good meal at the on-site canteen.
To be continued...
« 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
So you and we will continue to satisfy each other. 🙂
No doubt we'll soon show you some spots around Chiang Mai that won't leave you indifferent. As well as a few restaurants we walked out of unscathed...!
« 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
Thanks once again... Such a polished, smooth travel journal... and those stunning photos (I know, I’m repeating myself...). And those little Laotian kids—aren’t they just gorgeous! Asia is a true paradise for photography lovers, landscapes, and portraits...
At the Blue Lagoon, the vibe is laid-back and fun. Above the pool, a rope is tied to a thick branch. You grab the rope, swing yourself, and jump into the water. The bravest climb the tree and jump from higher up, cheered on by their friends with whoops and applause.
We witness a long, friendly scene between an American couple with their whisky and a group of Chinese travelers with crates of beer. Thankfully, they’re not all drinking straight from the river—or it would’ve dried up ages ago.
Behind us, on some very tall trees, there are zip lines. Everyone’s having a blast there too.
We see Noé arrive, driving his jeep with some French girls for an excursion. He’s surprised to see us covering the whole route on foot.
We set off again, walking no faster than on the way there. The weather’s really changeable. In just a few minutes, we see the same landscape shift from light rain to an overcast sky to bathed in sunlight.
Nature lovers and scenery enthusiasts could easily spend three or four days here without regretting it.
You can also go tubing, climbing, kayaking, scale one of the peaks, or explore caves—plus the eastern loop.
The motorbikes, 4x4s, and other vehicles had been pretty respectful of us as pedestrians. That is, until the end, when a group of Chinese tourists came roaring up on their loud, smelly dune buggies. I’m sure it’s a blast driving those things on these kinds of trails. We’d even seen people returning from their rides covered in mud from head to toe. But this time, the last guy made sure to gun it straight through a huge puddle right as he passed us. Oh, it was clear he didn’t try to avoid it—and he was laughing his head off. Sometimes you just feel like picking up a rock and...
A few minutes later, my wife’s legs broke out in big red patches, and we had to head to a pharmacy that evening to treat the allergic reaction that flared up. There’s definitely some nasty stuff in that water.
We’re completely wiped out by the time we get back to the hotel, and we don’t even bother showering properly. It’s the perfect moment to take advantage of the pool. The one at the Silver Naga is only five meters wide, but since it runs along the building, it must be close to 15 meters long. The best part? It faces the river and those stunning hills.
We meet a French couple there. The husband’s a customs officer, and he explains that even though there was a big cleanup operation, the trafficking hasn’t stopped—it’s just gone underground. Several bars offer "happy shakes," which are basically cannabis shakes. That explains a few things we’d seen...
Dark, ominous clouds roll in with the storm that’s approaching—we barely dodged it! We’re over the moon about the day we’ve had, and it’ll stay etched in our memories for a long time.
« 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
We rented a tuk-tuk to take us to the village of Phatang, whose name means "the tooth." Indeed, a limestone hill near the village really does look like a big tooth. The ride is quirky because the tuk-tuk is old—so old that the owner plans to buy a brand-new one in the next few days. In the meantime, we have to stop every seven kilometers to open the inner hood and add two liters of water. The guy keeps apologizing, even though we’re totally fine with it.
We took a little walk around the village, but since every path was blocked by a fence or a pond, we couldn’t get any closer to the tooth. There’s a small Chinese temple and the typical local houses.
We still had plenty of time to admire the long karst range on the 17-kilometer ride back. It’s a really pretty spot that might’ve deserved an extra day or two.
We would’ve loved to do the eastern loop around Vang Vieng if our legs weren’t still sore from the day before.
Over the years, we’ve been choosing more and more places with pools—let’s be honest, it’s also an excuse to take a break.
That day, another storm hit earlier than the day before, which lessened our regrets about knowing we would’ve gotten soaked if we’d gone out. We were lucky enough to see that beautiful landscape one last time under alternating rain and sunshine.
That’s what kept us from wandering too far that evening. Right next to the hotel, a family runs a modest little restaurant with an outdoor barbecue. For a reasonable price, we feasted on chicken skewers and sweet Lao sausages with pineapple. Little by little, we started wondering if we’d ever stop gravitating toward mid-range restaurants when these little spots offer such quality and authenticity.
« 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
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This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rentals kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything fell into place—I told myself, now’s the time!
Preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan?
Not in the end.
The south or not?
Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or play it by ear?
Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela on this destination (the guide has been updated since).
---/---
You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek!
(‘Beefsteak’ for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
March 2nd — Departure by bus from Latour at 6:50 AM. The journey isn’t direct: we pass through Elne then Corneilla. In Perpignan, I switch to a BlablaBus heading to Barcelona’s northern bus station. Before reaching Le Perthus, French police stop us to check IDs. Several people aren’t in order, but after about fifteen minutes, we’re on our way again. We’re checked again at La Jonquera: this time, the wait lasts almost forty-five minutes while police identify those in violation and wait for a vehicle to pick them up. The driver then tries to make up for lost time; we finally arrive at our destination half an hour late.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.
Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.
Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church
, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes
—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit.
I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.
Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare
We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.
We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.
This travel journal summarizes a trip I took in March to Argentine and Chilean Patagonia. It starts in El Calafate and ends in Ushuaia. During my planning, I considered looking into the Australis cruise from Punta Arenas to Ushuaia, as well as the W trek in Torres del Paine National Park. In both cases, I was put off by the prices. Instead of the cruise, I found two interesting wildlife excursions from Punta Arenas: whale watching in the Strait of Magellan and observing king penguins in Tierra del Fuego. The journey to Ushuaia was by bus. For Torres del Paine, things were a bit confusing, so I reached out to two agencies. In the end, I went with a rental car option, overnight stays on-site, and day hikes. I shared my full itinerary with the agency and ended up being taken care of by a local Argentine agency and a Chilean one.
So, here we go...
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style.
All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert.
However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about it.
I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.
I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guardians for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course.
Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious.
Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons.
That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though? Much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been full of holes for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and enormous beast with its own garden. Yet it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water there for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not just for fun—these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
June 2024.
While hiking with my brother on the GR 36 Tour du Morvan, I catch sight now and then of strange rectangular markers fixed to tree trunks. Against a bright orange background, a deep black Greek tau topped with a white dove. My first encounter with the Assisi Way.
The Way of St. Francis: a pilgrimage route linking Vézelay in Burgundy to Assisi in Italy, covering nearly 1,800 km.
It felt like an obvious next step—I immediately knew I’d take it on, attempt the adventure solo.
In the months that followed, I talked about my project to everyone—family, friends, my partner. An avalanche of comments, more or less the same but varying depending on each person’s character and life experiences. But deep down, it all boiled down to one legitimate question: why?
And the answers?
Hesitant, awkward, partial, even confused. I quickly realized they weren’t so easy to find. It was as if my project seemed more like a whim, a kind of intimate caprice, rather than a well-thought-out plan.
Of course, I knew the reasons that pushed me to leave—you always have to give some. Loved ones need to understand to feel reassured, and that’s understandable.
But I fear that when I list them, they’ll sound like the same old checklist anyone embarking on this kind of journey might give.
Of all the reasons I could mention, I’ll highlight just one here: the call of the road, the solo adventure that brings a powerful sense of freedom.
A bit like Monsieur Seguin’s goat, who from her comfortable pen gazes longingly at the unconstrained horizon of the mountain.
But if I’m being honest, I think I didn’t really know what I was looking for—or, more importantly, what I’d find. Deep down, when I reflect on it, one word keeps coming up that explains nothing and everything at once: desire.
Now well past sixty, I know that when I ask myself who I am or where I’m going, two things bring me fully back to myself: hiking and writing.
And my intention was also to anchor this adventure through words, day by day. Writing down my feelings, emotions, discoveries, and reflections each evening. The famous travel journal that grounds the daily experience in reality.
When I discovered the app "Polarstep," which was initially just meant to keep my loved ones updated and reassured, inform them of my progress, and maintain a connection, I found an opportunity to do it a little differently than usual.
No retrospective notes polished up after returning, but spontaneous writing—recounting everything that crossed my mind during the day and publishing it immediately. A journey lived in real time.
This text is the exact transcription of my daily writings. Rereading them, I didn’t change a thing—just corrected a few mistakes and tweaked some awkward phrasing here and there. Short texts, fitting the format imposed by this kind of app. Writing as if addressing others.
Now, all that was left was to walk.
April 18, 2026 – Vézelay.
Here’s our account of our trip to Malaysia from September 11th to 27th.
I hope our tips can help others as much as this forum has helped us!
Day 0:
Departure from Nantes with a transfer in Amsterdam via KLM (720 €).
Day 1:
We arrive at KLIA1 in the early afternoon.
First challenge: figuring out where to pick up our luggage. Turns out the answer is right under our noses—we need to take the airport’s internal metro!
Once we’ve got our bags, we withdraw some cash from a Maybank ATM right there.
Next up: SIM card! Just outside the arrivals hall, several kiosks offer them. We go for a Celcom 5 GB card (70 RM).
Then it’s taxi time to get to KL, in the Bukit Bintang area—about 85 RM in a slightly old taxi with weak air conditioning.
We check into our Airbnb apartment, which is clean, more spacious than a hotel room, and—best of all—has a charming balcony with a gorgeous nighttime view!
We end up hanging out on that balcony, reviewing our plans for the next day. After dark, we take the monorail just a short walk away to enjoy our first evening on a rooftop at the 34th floor: Hélipad (Raja Chulan station—you have to enter the Menara Tower at the base of the station) with a panoramic view of the city and its iconic towers.
Finally, we head to Jalan Alor to grab a bite in this super busy street.
Big sleep ahead! 😴
After the summer of 2022 left me with a sense of unfinished business, here I am back in Swedish Lapland for the summer of 2024, ready to attempt the Sarek crossing again—and this time, tackle part of the Kungsleden too.
After much hesitation, my companion Jean Marie and I decided to start with the Kungsleden, which, from what we’ve read, is stunning but very crowded (and it really is!!), and finish with the wilder option: SAREK! This park is known as Europe’s last wild space—I think it’s incredibly inspiring!!
The downside of this choice is that there are no resupply options in Sarek, and the Kungsleden isn’t exactly set up for long treks either, so we’ll have to carry a lot of food for the first part with Sarek in mind.
But hey, we’re motivated!
Our plan is to start in Abisko (classic), head to Vakkotavare (also classic, but with some variations to avoid the official route and the crowds), then continue the Kungsleden from Saltoluokta. Before Aktse, we’ll set off on an east-to-west crossing of Sarek (weather-dependent, since aside from the Skarja hut in the center of the park, there’s no shelter if conditions turn bad).
At least we’ll be on the right side of the park to climb Skierfe and enjoy the jaw-dropping view of Rappaladen if we have to abandon the Sarek crossing.
That adds up to 17 days of trekking, including 1 rest day + 1 buffer day for weather delays.
So if you’re interested, I invite you to follow our overstuffed backpacks!
08/03 - Abisko – 5km before Abiskojaure
Some info (guides used for prep, SFT map, sending food to Saltoluokta)
08/04 – 5km before Abiskojaure - on the east shore of Lake Alisjavri
08/05 – East shore of Lake Alisjavri – just before Tjaktja
08/06 – Just before Tjaktja – above the Salka hut via Nallo
08/07 - Salka – just past Singi + side trip to Djalson Lake
08/08 - Singi – Teusajaure
08/09 - Teusajaure - Vakkotavare (end of the first section of the Kungsleden)
08/10 – rest day in Saltoluokta + round trip to the Sámi village of Pietjaure
08/11 – Saltoluokta – Sitojaure
08/12 - Sitojaure - Skierfe - So, Sarek or no Sarek?
08/13 – Skierfe – somewhere above Rapadalen
08/14 – Somewhere above Rapadalen – above the Skarki hut
Coming up:
08/15 – Above the Skarki hut - Skarja
After a pretty disastrous weather-wise trip to Gran Canaria, we’re hoping this time the sun will shine in Puglia.
It’s not a sure thing, though—the weather’s been awful all over Europe in early May.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16:
This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us.
The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!!
The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that Italian cars don’t have turn signals 😮... except for rental cars).
About an hour later, we arrive at our first accommodation, right in the middle of the countryside near Monopoli.
The owner isn’t there, but they’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch.
We explore the property:
And the next morning before breakfast, its immediate surroundings:
Sunday, May 17:
After our "seaside" experience in Gran Canaria last weekend (packed with people and locals), we decide to start inland.
After a hearty breakfast,
we head toward Alberobello, a super touristy village famous for its trulli—those stone houses with conical roofs.
We easily find a free parking spot on a street near the Aia Piccola district, where some trulli are still lived in year-round.
We almost immediately come across the Trullo Sovrano (the only two-story one), which you can visit (but we skip it—it’s opening time, and there’s already a line).
From there, we head down toward the Basilica of Cosma e Damiano... but we don’t go in because there’s a mass.
Now we’re on the main Piazza del Popolo, which connects the two districts of Alberobello: Rione Aia Piccola and Rione Monti, the more touristy one.
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions...
So, now that I've just finished my Japan travel journal here, I figured it was high time to honor this destination we came back from so enchanted.
Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some!
Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!
I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to include fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to take her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can slip away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!
Anyway, since I love maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red); we only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband’s newly retired, I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.
In broad strokes, it was very classic:
First, we “settled in” at Luang Prabang (8 days), because we wanted and needed to.
From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we know, distances aren’t just about km!
Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4,000 Islands while stopping by the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites.
We wrapped up with the Bolaven Plateau.
A few practical notes: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having picked up our luggage in Bangkok to check it in for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized.
We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. Quick, but to be fair, we were on a “small” plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too crowded in line!
At the end of our trip, we didn’t fly out of Paksé but from the nearby airport in Thailand, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), then Bangkok and Paris.
You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the (Chinese) train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!
With that intro out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter.
To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang
Here’s a little story about my first trip to Japan with my partner.
We went for our first visit from October 29 to November 13, 2024.
I had planned this entire trip back in November 2020, but given the health situation at the time, I had to cancel...
Here’s the classic route we took:
We booked everything ourselves and got a regional pass for the area from Kyoto to Hiroshima.
The hotels were reserved 3 months in advance on Book... and Agod... (1030 € for 2 people for 13 nights = 80 €/night).
For the flight, we chose a Qatar Airways flight with a layover to break up the long journey (950 € per person).
We also got a pass on the same site (Japan-Experience) to take the train connecting Narita Airport to Shibuya Station (the N'EX Narita Express).
Since the airport is 75 km from central Tokyo, we opted for this mode of transport, even though there are cheaper alternatives.
After reading various posts on VoyageForum, I understood how important it was to have a Welcome Suica card to pay for public transport (subway, tram, bus, boat throughout the country), and we were able to buy one at Narita Airport.
It turned out to be super useful!
After a long but smooth journey, we found ourselves at Narita Airport in the evening.
Even though we had a pass for the Narita Express, we had to go to a counter to make a reservation for the train (mandatory).
Then, once we arrived at Shibuya Station, we took the subway for 2 stops and finally reached our hotel, exhausted (Hotel Asia Center of Japan – 270 € for 3 nights with breakfast included).
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area).
In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo.
But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip.
And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.
So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays:
- 3 nights in St Lucia
- 1 night in Hluhluwe
- 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini)
- 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini)
- 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti)
- 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve
- 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie
All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.
I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).
To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.
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!
We went to Albania in August 2025.
Our itinerary included adventure (sporty activities, site visits), naps on the beach interspersed with swims, incredible natural sites, and a bit of culture.
I booked all our accommodations on Booking.com. Note: almost all places ask to be paid in cash!! You can obviously withdraw from banks, but the fees are pretty high. Luckily, we had plenty of cash, and the country is very safe. You can pay in euros most of the time, which avoids exchange fees.
We started in Tirana. I’d read a really interesting post about Albania’s bunkers (link in my profile). We chose to visit Bunk’Art with a guide from the agency that wrote the post. It was fascinating—not only to better understand the country’s history but also because her grandfather was repressed by the regime, and she shared her family’s experience with us.
Bunkers are everywhere! In Tirana, Bunk’Art is the most interesting and largest. You’ll see the dictator Enver Hoxha’s office, where he would’ve taken refuge in case of an attack on the country. Bring a sweater—it’s really cold in the underground tunnels and their huge corridors.
You can visit other bunkers around the country, in Tirana and elsewhere. Almost all are just abandoned.
The cable car up Mount Dajti is right next to Bunk’Art. The view is stunning—you realize Tirana is so close to the mountains and the sea... But otherwise, it’s not that exciting for older teens (17 and 19) and their parents.
We picked up a rental car in Tirana—it’d be ours for the next three weeks. We used Goalbania’s agency to avoid any hassles. First, there aren’t many cars available in Albania in summer. Second, French credit cards can be a nightmare abroad. So we preferred to sort that out in advance.
After Tirana, we headed to Permet. Just a heads-up: the roads are in great condition except in the mountains. And Albanian drivers aren’t stressful to deal with. Though you might suddenly encounter a herd of goats crossing the road—haha—but if you’re not going too fast, it’s fine.
In Permet, I’d been dreaming of rafting on the Vjosa, one of Europe’s last wild rivers. And we did it with a local agency! It’s beautiful, accessible to everyone, not too physical but still a bit lively—just how we like it. You can even jump into the river in some spots.
In Permet, we also hiked through a canyon and visited a lovely little church.
And we took a workshop to make their local culinary pride: gliko. It’s a jam with whole fruits inside. We’d seen it on Goalbania’s site, and it was really fun. We were with a family where the secret to making gliko has been passed down for generations...
Next, we headed to Gjirokastër. A city we loved: its old traditional houses (Skendulli and Zekate), its grand castle, the Ali Pasha Bridge. Along the way, we stopped for artisanal ice cream at a little shop run by a grandmother who’s been making it herself for ages.
One afternoon, my husband *had* to go to the coast in the south, to Ksamil (he’d read it was better than Sarandë). Verdict: we didn’t like it. Parking is a nightmare, the beaches are super noisy and crowded. The sea is packed with jet skis, boats, pedalos, and ropes. Avoid it.
On the other hand, we really liked Himarë, where we went next. We stayed at a campsite where we rented tents with mattresses and sheets inside. Right by the sea, on a low cliff (about 2 meters high). You can hear the waves at night... Magical!! To swim, you either jump straight into the sea (almost from the tent) or climb down a ladder, which you’ll need to climb back up to get out.
I was a little worried the campsite wouldn’t be very comfortable, so afterward, I’d booked a small place in Gjilek. Turns out, the place was really tiny (one room for four, no kitchen) and pretty expensive (over 100 € a night). We’d drive to the beach or restaurants—it’s on a steep slope, so not very accessible. Parking near the sea is tricky. But the (private) beaches were nice—we’d rent an umbrella not too close to the music and spend the day there. We also went to a wilder beach, harder to reach, via a long path. Behind the beach, there’s an amazing canyon where we’d sometimes climb using ropes (already in place, no need to bring your own) over big boulders rolled around by the stream, which must swell a lot in spring.
So, the sea in Albania: it’s nice if you like swimming and relaxing, but it’s not the most interesting part of the country. There are so many other amazing things to see and discover—so many stunning sites! Maybe an agency could’ve helped us find more practical accommodations and avoid Ksamil and its surroundings.
We left the coast to head to the beautiful city of Berat and its "thousand windows." We explored the city, its fortress, and its icon museum.
Then we discovered the Osum Canyon—it’s incredible. The view from the top is breathtaking. And at the bottom, it’s magical. There’s little water in summer, so rafting isn’t an option. We weren’t tempted by the big-tube descent offered by an agency—it looked fun, but the group had 40 people. We preferred hiking on our own as a family of four. We scouted the area on Google Maps... and found where to descend. We walked in the water, then it rose to our waists, then our shoulders... We weren’t moving fast. And how to get back up?? Eventually, we followed a group with a guide—the path was hard to find.
After that unforgettable hike, we visited the Bogovë Waterfalls. It’s pretty, and we swam, but the water was *really* cold.
We passed through Tirana again and then headed to Shkodër. We explored a bit—its charming little streets, the Rozafa Fortress. There’s a tiny museum where you can see *huge* Ottoman stone cannonballs. And they tell you the (charming) story of the young woman who was walled alive in the castle’s foundations to ensure its strength...
Shkodër is mostly a stopover to head into the mountains and discover Theth. Our goal: hiking in the Valbona Valley, from Valbona to Theth. We organized the trip ourselves, without an agency, but it took some time to figure everything out. So I’ll save you the trouble—haha. Book your tickets on the Komanilakeferry website. The ticket includes:
🙂 minibus transfer from downtown Shkodër to Koman
🙂 ferry ticket from Koman to Fierze. This ferry ride is *gorgeous*—between mountain slopes covered in pine trees, and sometimes a little house with a few fields...
🙂 minibus ticket from Fierze to Valbona. Now you’re in the mountains! The minibus drops you off near your accommodation—pick one as close as possible to the start of the hike (if that’s your goal!). The ones at the far end of the village add up to 1.5 hours of walking. Our choice: Guesthouse Dioni. The host is really lovely, it’s in the woods, and it’s basic but great.
After a day of hiking, we arrived in Theth. What beautiful mountains! Then we explored Theth and the surrounding area. It’s pretty busy, but you can still enjoy the Blue Eye of Theth and its swim. It’s *so* cold! But so beautiful!
🙂 minibus ticket from Theth back to Shkodër.
After a night in Shkodër, we drove to Kepi i Rodonit. A guidebook (I forget which one) raved about its beauty. And it *is* beautiful!
But the view is ruined by plastic bottles and other trash in the bushes, along the paths, and of course on the beaches. The only peaceful spot: the private beach at Kepi i Rodonit, which is cleaned. You can rent an umbrella and have lunch there. That’s where we spent our last few days—very relaxing.
In short... Albania turned out to be perfect for us and our teens!
I’m diving into a recap of our loop—pretty classic, really—Denver-Yellowstone-Denver this past summer, from July 24 to August 17. Given the sheer number of trip reports already out there (or in the works), and since I don’t have the writing chops or the photography skills of many of you, I’ll keep it practical—well, I’ll try, at least—to share our take on some of the less-visited parks and spots.
First off, a huge thank you to everyone whose trip reports, blogs, websites, comments, and more helped us put together this itinerary. Looking back, it could’ve been even better optimized: a few disappointments when we missed out on some great discoveries, often because we were short on time. Plenty of reasons to come back to the area!
We’re traveling with our four (almost) teens—18, 16, 14, and nearly 12 years old. To keep the trip enjoyable for everyone, we had to make compromises on both sides: cutting a visit short to spend more time swimming, waking up at dawn, and so on. But logistics also played a big role—things like laundry, grocery shopping, and keeping luggage organized could’ve quickly become time-consuming without a little planning.
And honestly, I think we visited every Walmart along the way! Blame it on the lack of fridges in some accommodations and, more importantly, the *very* limited space in the car, which made it impossible to bring a proper cooler. I’ll come back to the car saga later.
For accommodations, this year we alternated between basic cabins in KOA campgrounds and Yellowstone (when staying more than one night in the same place) and hotels. Always with a pool (except in Yellowstone, of course), which let the kids burn off energy—because they always have reserves, even after packed days!—and, let’s be honest, gave us a chance to relax. No Wi-Fi issues either; we all had plans with 25 GB of data (a big thanks to Gilles for the amazing deal at 0.99 €). It worked perfectly, even for texts and calls between phones—no extra charges.
Now, onto our route: as I mentioned, a classic Denver-Yellowstone-Denver loop. To avoid rushing through the parks or spending all our time on the road, we prioritized staying as close to them as possible, with at least two nights in each place. And I’ve got to say, it’s really nice to settle in, even if it’s just for two nights. It also helped us deal with the weather, which wasn’t always great during this trip. The trade-off? With vacation time being limited, some driving days ended up being long. We knew that going in, but since we kept a relaxed pace with no time constraints (don’t ask me for timings—I don’t keep track of the clock on vacation, except in the morning to get everyone up before noon!), we sometimes ended up with marathon days.
With that said, I’ll dive into the trip itself in the next post.
We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?
And we still haven’t seen everything!
Before setting off for new horizons at the end of this year, it’s time for me to share my trip to Cape Verde this summer 2025.
I particularly love these spontaneous trips, and our stay in Cape Verde is one of those because it was only at the beginning of April that we decided on this getaway, which had been catching our eye for a while, given our love for the mountains.
As always—well, when it’s open—I turned to VF, and I want to immediately thank Marie, aka ptitortue, who helped me a lot in planning this trip through her travel journals and our exchanges!
Because Cape Verde is both small and vast! We decided not to rush from one airport to another, to enjoy the places and the people, but also to relax, since the work backlog from being stuck in May (see my previous travel journal 😅) had to be caught up on in June.
So, 4 islands will be our winners from 06/28 to 07/19:
Santiago first for logistical reasons, as round-trip flights from the capital Praia were the cheapest (650 €/person from Lyon via Lisbon with TAP, still!)
São Vicente, because it’s the gateway to the next one but ultimately more than that...
Santo Antão, pretty much the main goal of the trip since Marie (and the photos) had really sold it to me.
And finally, Sal Island, for some rest—a non-negotiable condition for my other half—and we’ll see that I should’ve listened to Marie...
That said, what a chatterbox I am—buckle up, flight attendants at the doors, off we go on new beautiful escapes! (Thanks to Sophie for the easy loan)
Last note for my eager fan club 😏: yes, there will be alcohol—how could there not be in the land of grogue!
Hello,
Since I enjoy not only the countryside but also everything related to rail travel, I’m starting this photo thread dedicated to trains in Thailand (I’d guess most of us have taken one at some point...).
Feel free to post your pictures here as long as they fit the theme: rolling stock**, stations**, platforms, tracks (even without a train on them), technical equipment, engineering structures (bridges, viaducts), etc.—all in Thailand.
For each photo, I’ll (or you can) note the station or line where it was taken.
Comments and questions are welcome.
As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I inherited my love of travel from my parents and some of my grandparents. A strong passion, but one that was unfortunately limited by our family’s modest resources. Back then, living in northern Alsace, a simple trip to the southern part of the region—with the Wine Route as our destination—felt like an extraordinary journey to a land of plenty for the little boy I was in the late 60s and early 70s.
Everything seemed so huge when you were still just a kid.
Back then, I was overwhelmed by countless sensations—I was already highly sensitive, with a keen mind and a nose and taste buds that were developing like a pro’s. Which, as I’d later realize, wasn’t always an advantage.
Those magical days always began with a gentle late-spring or midsummer morning. The interior of the white Peugeot 404, license plate 210 LZ 67, had already soaked up the sun before the engine purred to life, and the cabin gave off a scent I could still recognize today—a fragrance I found so pleasant. Back then, I had no idea it was just the smell of warm plastic from the car’s interior.
Yes, the scents of the 404 on sunny days became my madeleine de Proust...
What’s more, the whole family was unusually cheerful because those moments of relaxation and leisure were rare. Everyone worked, and no one had an easy job or was well paid. Without the *Trente Glorieuses*, these experiences might never have happened.
Once we crossed the canton’s borders, I felt like I was light-years away from my everyday surroundings, and every kilometer plunged me deeper into *terra incognita*. It was thrilling. Far from my so-called "medium-sized" town, wheat fields, cornfields, and cabbage patches stretched out, punctuated by tall poles connected by long wires and topped with vegetation—like giant clotheslines without laundry, where magical beanstalks might grow to touch the sky. Back then, I was still far from tasting their product, which was simply beer. At the time, there was still a significant local hop production. Fun fact: it wasn’t until 2002 that Anglo-Saxon scientists proved hops and cannabis belong to the same biological family.
After the fields, the landscape took another step up as it rolled past the little boy’s eyes, often glued to the windows. First came modest hills, then a succession of rolling slopes that soon formed an unbroken chain. Their 700 meters in altitude felt like Himalayan peaks to me—impressive, inert giants, a whole new world. Gazing at them, an intense emotion welled up somewhere between my stomach and lungs, nearly taking my breath away. What mysteries, what treasures did these heights hold?
And then there were the cherries on top—the crowning touch that made the scene even more magical: proud, majestic castles perched on the summits like impassive sentinels. Monuments from the past, yet firmly rooted in the present on their rocky spurs.
The little boy’s eyes sparkled—he’d been given a castle for Christmas, complete with battlements, towers, a drawbridge, and fully armed knights. He’d watched and lived *Ivanhoe* on the only French TV channel that existed back then.
Only once did my paternal grandfather join us on one of these trips. A tall, intelligent man with a face that could shift from stern to mischievous, clearly full of humor and charisma. Sadly, his relationship with alcohol had taken a toll on his life and, by extension, those of his loved ones. He had a strong personality—if his boss crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch him, which meant he went through a lot of different jobs. Back then, you could quit one job and easily find another. It was quite something to see him in his final stages, hallucinating pink elephants and even drinking perfume when he had nothing else left. The last time I saw him, he’d slipped away from the doctors and nurses while hospitalized in pretty bad shape—at least, I assume his liver was the issue. We were sitting down for a family lunch when the door burst open, and there he stood in his pajamas, eyes twinkling with mischief, clearly pleased with the dramatic entrance. That theatrical moment didn’t spare us from burying him a few months later at the age of 71. One day, my mother told me the family doctor had quietly remarked that it was a shame—with his robust constitution, he could’ve lived to be a hundred. Yes, the family doctor—this was the man who’d come treat you any day, at almost any hour, just for a phone call. It really existed, it’s not a myth!
That day, his wife—my paternal grandmother—was also along for the ride. Everyone agreed that Jeannette was a good woman. She worked as a waitress at *Le Tigre*, the biggest brasserie in town, right in the center. Most customers preferred to be served by her, including local dignitaries and even the mayor. As a kid, I didn’t find her very fun, open, or warm—she seemed a bit stern. Back then, women in their fifties already had the face and build of grandmothers. Same went for men, don’t get me wrong. I had no idea about the struggles she faced because of her husband. I didn’t know that 30 years earlier, she’d had to flee Alsace while pregnant, under threat from Nazi fighter-bombers. I didn’t know she’d had several miscarriages, and that my father—her only surviving child, born prematurely in March 1940 at the other end of France—weighed less than a kilo at birth and was so tiny he could fit in a shoebox. Hard to imagine he’d grow into a strapping man nearly 1.80 meters tall, tipping the scales at 100 kilos.
When you come back from summer camp in early August and ask why she didn’t pick you up with your parents, and they gently tell you she’s "in heaven," you don’t realize she passed away at 54 after suffering greatly from stomach cancer that had spread.
Back to that family outing, that enchanted parenthesis. I even remembered where we’d had lunch when I passed through Dambach-la-Ville decades later. One of those charming, flower-filled towns Alsace produces in abundance—and preserves so well. This one sits high on a hill, and I was a bit stunned on the parking lot because the view stretched far, revealing the Alsace plain below—its fields, villages, hills, and forests. The world seemed so vast and enticing that day, even though I was only glimpsing a tiny fraction of it.
The region was already very touristy, but I wouldn’t notice the downsides until much later. That Sunday noon, I discovered a large restaurant filled with diners. I can still see the enormous piece of meat they served me, decorated with a little wooden skewer topped with a flag. I kept that one for a long time. Those were the golden days of rich, flowing, thick sauces—so flavorful—and the era of the world’s best fries, made on the spot with the best potatoes. To top it off, I was *exceptionally* allowed a small bottle of apple juice, Orangina, or—even better if possible—Sinalco. Yes, Sinalco—like Orangina, but better. A brand that must’ve disappeared in the 70s, but why, and what a shame! Since then, Orangina’s little bubbles have taken the brand to the other side of the planet—it’s now Japanese.
Year after year, I’d eagerly await that ecstatic moment when the most beautiful castle in Alsace, the Haut-Koenigsbourg, appeared in my field of vision. The perfect model, the archetype that blended into the landscape at the height of a child’s dreams.
The trip home always felt like a reality check—less jarring than an alarm clock, but more diffuse and melancholic. From then on, there was only one wish: *When do we leave again?*
Hi there,
Here’s a recap of a trek through the Balkans covering three countries: Albania, Montenegro, and Kosovo. I was with a friend, and we didn’t do the full route (only one day in Kosovo).
It was a wonderful trek through snow-capped mountains and vast flower-filled meadows, meeting incredibly welcoming people.
At the end of the travel journal, I’ll share what I loved and what I liked less.
Day 1: Flight from Paris-Beauvais to Tirana with Wizz Air.
Since Albania isn’t part of Europe when it comes to phone service (at least not yet! :-)), we had to buy a physical SIM card—otherwise, the bill would’ve been sky-high if we’d used our French plan! We got one from Vodafone AL at the airport. You can buy online before leaving with a virtual SIM (e-SIM) for compatible phones, so you don’t have to swap cards. But given the uncertainty about choosing a plan online, we preferred buying one directly at Tirana Airport. Cost: 31 € for 100 GB. That’s way too much—100 GB is overkill. For 40 GB, it’s 27 €, and the plan lasts 21 days. The price difference isn’t huge, and it was cheaper than online. This plan covers all the countries along the Balkan range.
Money tip: All guesthouses and accommodations accept euros. The local currency in Albania is the LEK. In Montenegro, it’s the euro. Bank fees for withdrawing money from an ATM in Albania are pretty steep: 8 € for a withdrawal of 600–700 LEK (about 200 €)! So it’s better to withdraw cash (euros) in France. Oh, and we booked all our accommodations before leaving, but payment is always in cash. Budget around 400–500 € for 9 days of trekking.
Then, a transfer the same day to Shköder, about a 2-hour bus ride. Cost: 10 € per person. Tickets bought directly on the bus. We spent the night in Shköder at a very clean guesthouse, Open Doors B&B. It had a small balcony overlooking the city.
I really liked Shköder, especially its pedestrian street lined with restaurants and lit up at night. It’s a great place to stroll and eat. The food isn’t expensive—two big salads and two beers: 14 € :-) . Fruit prices are also very reasonable: 3 € for a kilo of cherries, compared to 9–10 € in France.
Religions coexist peacefully in these countries—Catholics and Muslims. From our balcony, my friend heard the call to prayer for the first time, coming from one of the city’s mosques.
Day 2: Bus ride to Theth, about 1,100 meters in elevation gain, the starting point for our hike the next day.
The trip took 2 hours and 40 minutes with a break in the middle. The bus was affordable, but taxis also make the trip—though they’re very expensive.
We slept in the heights of Theth at a new guesthouse, "Mountain Vista Shkafi," with an amazing view.
The family was adorable. The husband is a handyman and built almost everything himself. Their baby is named "Sky"—such a cute name, right? :-) Throughout the trek, I found the guesthouses very clean, and the hosts think of everything—no need to bring soap or shampoo; they provide it.
Lunch in Theth at a traditional restaurant on the main road. We tried "Tave Dheu," an Albanian dish with beef, cabbage (very common), and cottage cheese. Delicious but not quite filling enough. For dessert, a honey cake that was perfectly moist—such a treat! Desserts like this are rare; sometimes they serve watermelon instead.
We took a small private bus for 5 € to the "Blue Eye" parking lot, then walked for about 45 minutes to reach a stunning natural site—a kind of lagoon with incredibly blue water. The bravest can swim, but the water’s freezing!
That evening, we dined at "La Montagne Blanche"—excellent! A delightful mix of grilled meats with potatoes and grilled peppers. Some watermelon slices (which I’m not a fan of) and the famous Raki, a brandy served in Turkey and the Balkans! It was my first time drinking brandy "bottoms up." 😉
I’d like to share my family trip to Colombia with kids aged 8. After spending hours browsing the forum and only having two weeks there, we decided to focus on two regions: the Coffee Zone for one week and the Caribbean coast for another. We traveled from August 8 to 23.
Day 1 – First stop: Bogotá
We arrived in Bogotá in the evening on an Air France flight—nothing to complain about, decent service, comfortable, and on time. However, the first night was a miss. We’d booked a hotel near the airport (Abitel Prime) for convenience, but the soundproofing was almost nonexistent; we heard planes as if we were on the runway. Luckily, exhaustion helped us sleep well anyway.
Day 2 – Off to the Coffee Zone and Salento
The next morning, we headed to the airport for a domestic flight to Pereira with LATAM. No issues: punctual and efficient, and in 30 minutes, we landed in Pereira. The landing already set a different mood: lush valleys, endless plantations, and humid air.
We picked up our rental car from Localiza. Unfortunately, the experience wasn’t smooth—the paperwork took forever, and the wait tested our patience. Finally free, we hit the road to Salento, one of Quindío’s gems.
We arrived in the late afternoon and discovered a colorful village bustling with artisan shops and cafés. Our first stroll helped us soak in the atmosphere before dinner at Bambú restaurant—a great surprise with careful cooking and local flavors. We spent the night at Casa Serafín, a charming little hotel, nicely decorated and well-located… but unfortunately very noisy.
Day 3 – The magic of Cocora Valley
This was one of the trip’s highlights. We set off early for Cocora Valley, famous for its giant wax palms, Colombia’s emblem. We chose the 12 km loop recommended by the *Routard*. The landscapes were spectacular: towering palms, rivers, suspension bridges. It felt like walking through a postcard. The weather was perfect.
That evening, we dined at Barnabé restaurant—pleasant setting, decent food, but the bill was a bit steep for what it was. Back to Casa Serafín.
Day 4 – Coffee and panoramic views
The plan was a visit to Finca El Ocaso. For 1.5 hours, we followed a passionate guide who explained the entire coffee process, from harvest to cup. Very educational, accessible for both kids and adults, all in a stunning setting. The tour was in English for us, and we translated for our kids, who aren’t bilingual yet.
In the afternoon, we climbed to Salento’s viewpoint. The valley view was superb. That evening, we ate at Veggie Garden, a simple and pleasant spot that was a nice change from the heavier meals of previous days.
Day 5 – Horseback ride to Santa Rita Waterfall
We booked a horseback ride with Cocora Magic. It was a real success: calm horses, a beautiful trail, mountain and meadow landscapes, and finally the refreshing and wild Santa Rita Waterfall. Without a doubt, one of the best moments of our time in the region. We even got a bonus ride up a 300-meter hill.
We then headed to Filandia, less known than Salento but just as charming. We spent the late afternoon enjoying the pool at MuchoSur Filandia. The hotel is beautiful, in an idyllic setting. However, we also had soundproofing issues and could hear our neighbors.
Day 6 – Rainy detour through Filandia and Manizales
Rain caught up with us in the early morning: torrents of water made it impossible to go out. We stayed at the hotel, reading quietly. By noon, the rain let up: a quick walk in Filandia, a quick lunch, then off to Manizales. We chose to stay at El Otoño hot springs. Great choice: as soon as we arrived, we plunged into the hot pools, perfect after hours on the road.
Day 7 – Hiking and hot springs
In the morning, we hiked the Camino de Super Coco (found somewhat randomly on Google). A pleasant trail with mountain views and a peaceful atmosphere. The afternoon was spent in the hotel’s thermal pools, with a short marked hike down to the river. Dinner on-site at the hot springs’ restaurant. A simple but very relaxing day.
Day 8 – Rain, jacuzzi, and games
We continued to Finca Los Alpes. The rain greeted us again, but this time it turned into an asset: nothing like a steaming jacuzzi with a view of the misty mountains. The kids enjoyed the facilities too: mini-golf, ping-pong, billiards. Dinner and night at the hotel, cozy vibes.
Day 9 – Off to the Caribbean coast
Back to the airport to return the car (still a bit long). Flight to Cartagena with Avianca: punctual and comfortable. Upon arrival, we picked up another car and headed straight to the Hyatt Regency, a modern hotel with a pool. That evening, we dined at the hotel—practical after a travel day.
Day 10 – Colonial Cartagena
We set off to explore Cartagena’s old town. It was enchanting: colorful facades, flowered balconies, colonial charm—just magical. However, the heat was stifling and very humid. Afternoon relaxation by the pool. Dinner at Gestlani, a good restaurant in town.
Day 11 – Road to Barú
A hearty breakfast, then one last swim in the pool before heading to Barú. We checked into Las Islas Hotel. The setting was enchanting: wooden cabins nestled in the vegetation, a private beach, turquoise sea, impeccable service. Dinner at the hotel’s restaurant.
Day 12 – Beach and relaxation
A full beach day in Barú. Warm water, white sand, coconut trees, peace and quiet. A real postcard scene with iguanas and birds.
Day 13 – On to Santa Marta
Another morning at the beach before hitting the road to Santa Marta. The drive was a bit long (6 hours), especially with traffic jams in Barranquilla. It was the longest car ride of the trip. We spent the night at Villa María Tayrona, a beautiful place near the park.
Day 14 – Tayrona Park
We left early for Tayrona Park. We entered through **El Zaino**, parked the car, and set off on a hike to La Piscina (about 2 hours). We stopped along the way at Playa Arenilla, a stunning little beach, to rest. Lunch on-site, a swim, then back by 4 PM. The hike was a bit tiring, but the nature was spectacular: dense jungle, the sound of waves, and even a monkey encounter along the way. Evening and dinner at the hotel.
Day 15 – Last swim and return flight to Bogotá
Our last morning was split between the pool and the beach (the hotel has direct access via a 7-minute trail through vegetation and flowers)—hard to leave this paradise. We drove to Santa Marta’s airport to return the car, then flew back to Bogotá. We spent the night at Casa Dann Carlton, a comfortable hotel. We simply ordered room service, arriving too late to go out.
Day 16 – Bogotá and the end of the trip
Our last day in Colombia. After a good breakfast, we explored La Candelaria. Its cobbled streets and colorful houses were worth the visit. We visited the Botero Museum (free) and the Gold Museum, both fascinating. Back to the airport for our 11:55 PM Air France flight.
That’s a wrap on a varied trip—lush mountains, colorful villages, dream beaches, and tropical jungle.
The pace was pretty relaxed, well-suited for our kids. They absolutely loved the trip to Colombia.
Driving in Colombia was very easy, and we didn’t regret renting a car at all—it gave us more freedom to get around.
If I were to do it again, here’s what I’d change:
- I’d spend less time in the Coffee Zone to stay a bit longer on the Caribbean coast, which was more relaxing for the kids. Or I’d head to Medellín, but I didn’t think the city was very kid-friendly.
- Bogotá is a city that deserves a day’s visit, but it’s not a must-see. Maybe I’d have taken the KLM flight from Cartagena to Amsterdam instead.
Since I didn’t have time to write a proper travel journal, I thought I’d share a few photos of Bologna—a really lovely city I discovered in 2017 while stopping on my way to Tuscany.
Around Piazza Maggiore, which was packed with a stage and chairs for a show, stands the Basilica of San Petronio, massive and Gothic in style, with an unfinished façade (a common sight in Italy).
Another building near the square:
But Bologna’s real charm lies in its porticoes, which were added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2021: 62 km of arcades running along buildings, letting you walk sheltered from the sun or rain. Back in 1288, the city required houses to include private arcades for public use. In the city center, you can stroll under 32 km of porticoes in all sorts of styles—some plain, some ornate—with a strong presence of red tones.
Okay, it wasn’t a total disaster either. Actually, I hesitated before starting this travel journal: is it even worth writing about a holiday that won’t leave an unforgettable memory?
In the end, I went for it (there aren’t many recent travel journals about this destination).
So, read on... or don’t .
Every time we’ve been to the Canary Islands, it’s been by default (basically: where can we go in winter or early spring when we only have a week—so not too far, not too much jet lag, but with decent weather?).
This time, we had two weeks, but the winter plan kept changing: first Thailand (dropped for personal reasons), then Martinique (dropped because of work leave dates that weren’t up to me), and finally, the Canary Islands.
We’ve already been to Tenerife (which we really liked) and Lanzarote (which we liked a little less).
This year, two options: Gran Canaria or one of the smaller islands west of Tenerife (La Palma, or even La Gomera or El Hierro).
We chose Gran Canaria... not sure it was the right call!
Whose fault is it?
Storm Thérèse’s!
Yes, Storm Thérèse followed us on arrival, and its effects lasted quite a while. We had to adapt, cancel visits, change activities...
But even without Thérèse...
Saturday 21/03
Departure from Orly at 6:10 AM with Transavia.
The plane took off on time and landed a little early, tossed around by strong winds before touching down.
It had just rained, but it was (almost) no longer raining.
We quickly picked up our luggage and then the car at the Cicar counter.
We got a Seat Arona instead of the Corsa we’d booked. Well, while the driving position didn’t feel great at first (I got used to it), the engine’s smoothness and power were much appreciated on the island’s winding and sometimes steep roads.
It was only 10 AM, and we couldn’t theoretically check into our accommodation until 3 PM (the owner promised to message me if it was ready earlier).
So, we headed to the (big) *Jardín Botánico Viera y Clavijo*, where we planned to spend a few hours.
We found a huge parking lot... empty.
The passenger in the car in front of us (yes, we weren’t the only ones at the closed gate—there was a car in front and one behind) went to ask for info: it was closed due to the storm 😕.
So, we calmly headed toward Puerto de las Nieves, on the northwest coast of the island.
The plan: go to a restaurant, visit the village, and do some shopping while waiting for early afternoon.
As soon as we got out of the car, it started raining... we took shelter under the awning of a shop, waiting for it to pass. But the rain turned into a downpour, and within minutes, awning or not, Gore-Tex or not, we were soaked!
Since we were already wet, we might as well go to the restaurant—they weren’t far! But here’s the thing: contrary to what Google Maps said, they all opened at 1 PM, not noon!
Back to the car, wading through 5 cm of water because all the village streets were flooded .
The rain let up, we did some shopping, went to eat, and I got a message from the owner saying the accommodation was ready 🙂.
So, off we went to La Suerte, a few kilometers north of Agaete.
The downside of the place, especially with luggage, is that you have to climb several flights of stairs via an outdoor staircase (after parking more or less far away on a steep street) to get there 😛).
Of course, on the way from the car to the apartment, it started pouring again—the bags got soaked!
Enough rain for today! We settled in quietly, and by late afternoon, we could (finally!) go admire the view from the terrace.
Trip Planning
My partner and I are heading to the Canary Islands for a week at the end of September, specifically to Lanzarote. We chose this island over the more crowded ones for its volcanic landscape and the variety of hikes it offers.
I booked everything through Expedia: our hotel stay, car rental, and Ryanair flight tickets departing from Marseille. It was the only way to get a direct flight. To make getting around easier during our stay, I picked a hotel located in the center of the island from the wide selection available. It’s part of the Barceló chain, specifically the "Barceló Teguise Beach Adults Only" in Teguise Beach, which turned out to be an excellent choice.
The Trip
Sunday, September 21 - Monday, September 22
Departure
It’s 2:15 PM, and we’re at the Avignon TGV station. Danielle picked us up earlier due to the weather—thunderstorms and heavy rain all the way to the station. The TGV was on time, and it only took 30 minutes to reach Marseille Saint-Charles. The shuttle to the airport is quick and convenient, right behind the station.
The bus leaves for the airport in the middle of the storm, with flooded roads and cars stuck in some spots.
We get soaked making our way to the terminal. Two hours to wait before the flight. The plane finally takes off at midnight, but just before landing, the pilot announces that the destination airport is closed, and we’re being diverted to Tenerife. Ryanair will re-route us as soon as possible.
We end up waiting 2 hours, and Ryanair kindly gives us a 4 € voucher.
We re-board around 5:15 AM and take off at 6:00 AM. About 45 minutes to reach Lanzarote. After collecting our luggage, we head to the car rental desk. The counter in the terminal is closed, and we’re directed to parking lot P4—it takes us a while to find it.
I’m a bit worried about the rental company’s reaction since the car was supposed to be picked up 7 hours earlier, but it’s not a problem. A woman next to us is furious because she’s in the same situation, and her rental was canceled. Anne-Marie translates for her, but nothing changes.
We pick up a brand-new Toyota Aigo and head to the hotel.
After checking in, we cross the garden, walking alongside the large pool to reach our room.
A lovely first-floor room with a jacuzzi and a sea view.
It’s early, so we head to breakfast—a generously stocked and varied buffet with everything you could want.
Afterward, we drive to Cueva de los Verdes, but it’s packed with people and a long wait. We decide to come back another day.
Next, we visit Mirador Del Rio. This rocky viewpoint at the edge of the island has breathtaking cliffs plunging 500 meters into the ocean. The view is stunning and impressive.
A panoramic bar lets you cool off while enjoying the scenery.
We return to the hotel for a short walk around the neighborhood and enjoy the beautiful pool with its pleasant water temperature. Relaxing by the pool, sun loungers, and all.
In the evening, a very varied buffet at the restaurant. Then early to bed to recover from the sleepless night before.
Tuesday, September 23
After a restful night, we enjoy another varied and hearty breakfast. The terrace seating is very pleasant. We take an inland road leading to Timanfaya National Park.
The road near the park runs alongside vineyards where the vines are surrounded by lava stone walls to protect them from the prevailing winds.
Our first stop is at the visitor center, where the island’s volcanic activity is well-documented. Next, we stop at an area where you can take a short camel ride—two seats are installed on either side of the camel’s hump. This little ride offers a great view of the volcanic landscape from a higher vantage point. A fair price of 11 € per seat for a 20-minute ride.
We then head to the park entrance via the road leading to the parking lot, where only authorized buses can take the winding route inside the park.
It’s crowded, and we wait about 45 minutes with several stops before reaching the parking lot.
We board the bus, and the route offers beautiful views of this volcanic area and its many craters. The journey is very interesting, with several stops for photos.
At the parking lot, a guide shows us how the heat from the rocks beneath the surface can ignite dry vegetation. Water poured into holes in the ground immediately creates geysers and jets of steam.
The building next to the parking lot has a restaurant where meat is cooked using the heat from a well dug into the volcanic rock.
On our way back, we drive to Playa Blanca, a seaside town with a small sandy beach.
Back at the hotel in the late afternoon for dinner.
Wednesday, September 24
We wake up early and have a quick breakfast—few people are around at this hour. Two days ago, we booked a 10:00 AM visit to Los Verdes, lava tunnels created by eruptions and lava flows from the La Corona volcano, which extended all the way to the coast.
When the lava came into contact with the air, it solidified on the surface while continuing to flow underneath. The lava tunnels stretch for 8 kilometers to the volcano, but we only walk one kilometer.
The inside of the tunnel is impressive, with narrow passages and larger chambers.
You can see traces left by the flowing liquid lava—varied colors and twisted shapes.
At the end of the path, a large chamber has been turned into a concert hall with perfect acoustics.
Next, we visit Jameo Del Agua.
This is a continuation of the lava tunnel, developed by Manrique.
There are beautifully designed bar and restaurant areas, as well as an underground lake where you can see small blind white crabs—a protected species in this very pure water.
Higher up, there’s a lovely space with a central pool that could double as a swimming area, surrounded by beautifully designed white pathways that contrast with the blue water.
Further on, you reach a large space inside the lava tunnel, set up as a performance hall with perfect acoustics.
Stairs let you view this beautiful space from above. A gap in the lava landscape reveals the ocean on the horizon.
We head back toward the village of Yé, at the foot of the La Corona volcano.
A 160-meter walk from the church, a path crosses vineyard plots and then climbs to the top of the volcano’s crater in about 30 minutes. It’s the island’s highest volcano.
When you reach the edge of the crater, you see how deep it is, with steep slopes inside forming a large circular opening. The place is breathtaking and awe-inspiring.
We drive back to the hotel via a road that climbs quickly, offering a beautiful view of the island’s northern part.
Thursday, September 25
After another enjoyable and varied breakfast, we head to the center of the island toward the volcano park and stop at a roadside parking lot where a path leads to the Montana Cuervo volcano.
This is a crater that opened on one side. During an eruption, an explosion created a breach in the crater.
Huge blocks of rock were thrown dozens of meters away. The path goes through the breach and descends into the crater, allowing you to walk around it. It’s impressive, and you really feel small and fragile in this environment.
The crater walls, with their different colors, highlight the rock formations. The crater is surrounded by a sea of lava with sharp, jagged rocks.
You can walk around the outside of the crater, but it’s not very interesting. We then head to the west coast, stopping at a spot with a small green lake next to a beautiful black sand beach.
Next, we stop at Salinas de Janubio, a lovely viewpoint overlooking the salt marshes with different water colors. A small shop sells various local products.
We then head to the famous Papagayo beach.
The road ends at a booth where they charge 3 € to continue.
From here, the land is private, and you have to pay to drive down a 3-kilometer rocky dirt road.
Quite a few cars are driving along it, kicking up clouds of dust. The car gets a dusty makeover.
We arrive at a large parking area, with several paths leading to different small beaches.
We go to Papagayo, a small blonde sand beach surrounded by red rocks.
The beach slopes gently into the water, which is a pleasant temperature. The setting is charming and peaceful.
We stay for a while before heading back to the hotel.
Friday, September 26
We start with a visit to the César Manrique Foundation in Tahiche. This was originally one of his homes. The modern construction spans several levels and is integrated into the lava flow, using the gaps to create living spaces. Large windows make the rooms bright and open to the scenery. The place is pleasant, with flower-filled gardens outside. It’s well worth a visit.
Next, we drive to Las Grietas, where a path leads to a narrow crack in the volcanic rock, forming a tight passage where only one person can walk at a time.
The passage isn’t very long, but progress is slow due to the endless selfies being taken here.
We then stop at Casa Del Camposino, a renovated farm that houses several artisan shops.
We taste a local wine recommended by a charming woman and buy two bottles of Lanzarote red wine on her advice.
Now, we head to Tamara beach, a beautiful and wide beach at the foot of high cliffs. There are always great waves here, making it a surfer’s paradise.
On the way back to the hotel, we stop at the cactus garden, César Manrique’s final creation. Designed with a great sense of aesthetics around an old windmill, it features 4,500 varieties of cacti in various shapes, all in a beautiful setting.
We return to the hotel in the late afternoon for the evening.
Saturday, September 27
After another hearty breakfast, we head north to Haria. We stumble upon another of César Manrique’s homes, where he lived for a long time. This house is more traditional than the previous one but still has large, modern, and very pleasant rooms. At the back of the garden is his large studio, where he created his works.
Next, we visit the craft market—this was our original plan. Various stalls offer local items, and it’s very crowded. No room at the café terraces to sit down.
We then return to Famara beach for a long stay. There are always great waves here, much to the surfers’ delight. The water temperature is pleasant, and we enjoy it.
On the way back to the hotel, we stop at a gas station to refill the car, which has been very fuel-efficient. Gas is also much cheaper here than in France—1.16 € per liter of SP95.
We also wash the car, which was very dusty after the long dirt road to Papagayo beach.
At the hotel, we enjoy a farewell cocktail before dinner.
Sunday, September 28
We spend the morning by the hotel pool before checking out at noon. For lunch, we go to a restaurant called "Dona Lola," near the hotel, with a terrace offering a view of the coast. We order tuna carpaccio, which is delicious.
We then head to the airport, just 15 minutes away.
We return the rental car and go to the airport.
A long line to check in our luggage.
The return flight is on time.
A shuttle bus takes us to Saint-Charles station.
We then head to our overnight rental. The boulevard slopes down, making it easier with the suitcases.
The rental is between the old port and the train station.
Once there, we pick up the keys and make one last effort to carry the luggage up to the third floor.
The studio is nice, clean, and simply equipped—perfect for one night.
I’m a newbie to this forum, passionate about wildlife, the landscapes of East Africa, and Tanzania in particular.
This June 2024 trip/safari is our 7th visit to Tanzania and our 5th in the south, which has drawn us more than the north ever since we discovered it in 2015.
In 2024, the entrance fees for the reserves and services have gone up again since our last visit.
I chose to return first to Mikumi Reserve, which was the very first one we visited in the south. Then, we’ll head to Selous (J. Nyerere N. P.) as usual.
Initially, we wanted to spend 2/3 days on Mafia Island at the end of the trip, but it made the total cost too high, so we gave up...
We usually go to Ruaha and Selous, but I wanted to mix it up a bit—also to save some money...
As for the timing, June is a new experience for us. I thought it might be interesting to come just after the lodges reopen... hoping for some great wildlife encounters??
The trip starts in Marseille with our first flight on Ethiopian Airlines to Addis Ababa, then continues to Dar es Salaam, where we’ll finally set foot on Tanzanian soil again.
In Addis... "our" A-350.
.....
After arriving in Dar, we spent one night at a hotel near the airport. The next morning, we headed to the domestic flights terminal, which hasn’t changed in years.
By mid-morning, we boarded a Cessna 208B Caravan with Safari Air Link, heading to the Kikoboga bush airstrip in Mikumi, which we reached 45 minutes later.
Fun fact: the pilot was the same one as on our return flight two years ago.
Welcome on board:
Of course, a driver/guide team from our chosen lodge was waiting for us upon arrival:
I was surprised to see so many aircraft parked there... even twin-engine Embraer Brasilias??
As a fan of vintage planes, I loved it...
On the other hand, the light was incredibly harsh.....!!
Our guides only speak English. We knew that in advance. In the south, it’s very rare to find someone who speaks French. This’ll force us to dig into our high school English memories... from 60 years ago... at least.
It’s noon, and we head toward the lodge.
Near the airstrip, next to the Mikumi rangers’ base, there are quite a few herbivores. They find a bit more peace here—the big cats don’t venture this way...
Our first encounter was a group of Masai giraffes.
Rarer (for us), a savanna monitor lizard basking in the sun right in the middle of the track...??
A large gathering of impalas (mostly males) along with a few blue wildebeest:
Also unusual: a African crowned hornbill taking a dust bath in the middle of the track...!!
When it comes to identifying mammals or birds, I don’t know everything... so I might make mistakes. Please forgive me.
I’m counting on my friend Blesl’s active participation... 😉
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
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while.
When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing.
The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
Just back from two weeks in Andalusia, and I wanted to share this experience with you—maybe it’ll help with planning a trip. I’ll start with a quick recap in this post and try to add photos and day-by-day details later (still sorting through them). Hope I don’t bore you too much! 😎
Trip details:
April 20 to May 4, 2019:
7 days on the Costa de la Luz (El Puerto de Santa María) in an Airbnb,
4 days at the junction of the Costa del Sol and Costa Tropical (Salobreña) in an Airbnb,
3 days at Cabo de Gata for some rest at a campsite in Los Escullos.
Two families of four, each with our own car: three 9-year-old boys and a 6-year-old girl. One family was more into city exploration (not us, but we’re working on it), and the other preferred relaxation and nature (that’s us). We speak a little Spanish.
Over 5,000 km, including 2,500 km for the round trip from Carcassonne.
The weather: Variable, but we expected better for this region in late April. The first week on the Costa de la Luz was sometimes chilly (< 20°C), and the second week was warmer but not excessive (< 25°C). At least we didn’t get much rain!
Our budget: Around 2600 € per family:
700 € for accommodations, about 50 € per night,
1000 € for meals and restaurants. We usually spent around 50 € per family at restaurants—we ate out for lunch (except for 2–3 picnics) and cooked at home in the evenings, trying to be back by 6 PM.
600 € for activities: Río Tinto, a flamenco show, visits to the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar, Oasis Park with meals, and a kayaking trip.
300 € for gas and tolls.
Preparation: A few months ahead with bookings for accommodations and tickets for the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar. We used a few travel guides—I like the *Évasion* guide for initial planning. *Géoguide* was okay, but our friends’ *Routard* was the most useful. We also spent three months brushing up on Spanish with Mosalingua (a great spaced-repetition method, max 10 minutes a day). Downloaded Maps.me and the Andalusia map in advance—essential. And we used Tricount to track shared expenses with friends—super handy.
What we did/saw:
3 city visits (Seville, Granada, and Cádiz) + Málaga for our friends (we vetoed Córdoba—too many cities for us).
4 white villages (Vejer de la Frontera, Arcos de la Frontera, Grazalema, Ronda) + Tarifa for our friends.
Beaches (Tarifa and Bolonia, Matalascañas, Nerja, Cabo de Gata).
Nature and fun moments: Doñana National Park, a kayaking trip along the rocky coast near Nerja, and the Wild West/animal park in the Tabernas Desert.
A little culture: Río Tinto mines, the archaeological site of Itálica, Columbus’s caravels, Nerja Cave for us, and the Picasso Museum in Málaga for our friends. Plus, seeing the ham-drying process in the Alpujarras (for our friends).
Our highlights
Nerja and the surrounding villages: The rocky coast was amazing, and we loved the kayaking trip, even if the water was freezing for snorkeling. The beaches are sheltered from the wind, the town is charming, and the cave is incredible.
El Rocío and Doñana National Park. El Rocío has a timeless, almost Wild West vibe—we could’ve stayed a day or two. The quiet and pine scents reminded us of the Landes region.
What we didn’t love as much:
Río Tinto mines: Not super exciting, and the guides’ nonstop chatter kind of ruined the "nature" experience.
Our little regrets (for next time):
Forgetting our passports and missing a day trip to Tangier from Tarifa.
Not having an extra day around Nerja to go snowboarding in the Sierra Nevada—just 1.5 hours away (the kayak guide suggested it).
Not spending at least one night in El Rocío to explore Doñana National Park at dawn.
Antequera with the Guadalhorce reservoir and the Caminito del Rey (but it would’ve meant 2 more hours of driving, and we didn’t have the energy).
My general impressions of Andalusia and Spain
Landscapes: A feeling of extreme concentration of a single activity in some areas—endless olive groves, wind farms on the Costa de la Luz (which I thought were well-integrated), rows of buildings along the Costa del Sol (yikes, glad we didn’t stop there), greenhouses around Almería (a shame to have frozen the coast for so many kilometers), and the massive industrial port of Huelva.
What surprised us compared to France was the lack of small hamlets—villages are clearly defined, and people cluster there, leaving vast landscapes without human presence. In France, you find houses scattered everywhere.
Roads: Relatively few tolls. Sure, rest areas aren’t as nice as in France, but the roads are in good condition, and our wallet was happy. The roads are pretty straight with countless bridges and tunnels—the upside (besides fast travel) is that there aren’t many secondary roads disrupting the scenery.
Tourism and activities: A huge variety and richness. Feels like everyone can find something they like, and 15 days barely scratched the surface. It’s amazing how quickly you go from the coast to snow-capped peaks (Sierra Nevada) or from farmland to desert (Tabernas). And the mix of European and Arabic architecture in the same city is really special.
One small regret: Not interacting more with locals. We didn’t luck out with our Airbnbs. But shopkeepers were great—very patient with my broken Spanish! :-)
Overall, I think our choice to stay on the Costa de la Luz and then near Nerja worked well. We could explore pretty easily (even if we logged a lot of kilometers), and the settings were fantastic. The 3 days of total relaxation at Cabo de Gata were perfect.
If you prefer shorter stops, you could try staying in El Rocío (easy access to Seville and great for an early visit to Doñana National Park) or maybe Grazalema for a hike in the mountains (weather-dependent). And of course, Tarifa for a day trip to Tangier or Gibraltar.