Hi everyone,
We’re just back from a month-long trip to Morocco in our camper van.
After crossing France (we left from the Nantes area) and Spain, we arrived in Algeciras where we bought our boat tickets to Tangier. When we got to Tangier, as we were going through customs, you can imagine our surprise when the customs officer took our road map of Morocco and pointed out the label "Western Sahara" (just like in the forum’s destination section, by the way!).
He wanted it to say "Moroccan Sahara" instead!!! But there was nothing we could do—it was an old map... He wouldn’t listen, and after long discussions with the other (younger) customs officers, he finally gave it back and let us through... Unbelievable! Later, we heard that other travelers had their maps confiscated outright.
So, hide it well if you want to keep yours!!!
Anyway, we skirted around Tangier’s suburbs—pretty grim—and finally arrived in Asilah.
Following the coast and the long promenade along the beach, we reached the campsite. It was a bit crowded, not much shade, but it wasn’t far from the medina or the beach, and it wasn’t expensive.
There’s some life here: Moroccan families seem to live on-site, in tents or basic bungalows. A woman was cooking tagine on a brazier—we were right in the atmosphere! The night was quiet, and we slept well. We set off on foot, walking along the seafront to the medina...
We’d already been here in 2009. It was less touristy back then! Still, at this early hour, the little streets inside were very quiet. The walls had been freshly whitewashed, and there were even more murals than before.
Around 11:30 AM, we strolled along the ramparts by the sea. There was a nice breeze! And a lot more people around. We enjoyed a milkshake on the terrace of a café overlooking the beach that stretches out at the foot of the medina.
Some young guys were having fun diving off the rocks—and even off the top of the wall!
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
I think I’ll be following in your footsteps through Morocco. We’re planning to go back in a few months, so we’d love to discover some little spots that are a bit off the beaten track. And some great sights to see—or see again.
Looking forward to reading more.
Thanks, Vero, for your interest in my travel journal. How are you planning to get to Morocco? By camper van like us, or by plane and renting a car?
I’ll continue my journal:
We left off in Asilah:
After visiting the medina, we went to buy some vegetables and fruit at the lively market held behind it. Then, we grabbed a few tacos at a little hole-in-the-wall before heading back to the campsite.
The next day, Friday, September 19, we left Asilah. We’d already visited Larache in 2009, so we didn’t go back this year.
We headed toward Moulay Bousselham, but since we didn’t want to take the highway—preferring what we thought was a small coastal road—we ended up on a horrible road full of potholes and speed bumps, lined with trash. On top of that, it was packed with big trucks and lots of small horse-drawn carts.
It’s an area with plastic greenhouse farming—really an ugly environment. We should’ve taken the highway!
We arrived in Moulay Bousselham at 11:45 AM and parked near the small fishing port that leads to the lagoon. We took a roughly one-hour boat ride on the lagoon (150 Dh). The boatman was a very friendly man who knew a lot about birds. He’s a 64-year-old former fisherman, too old for fishing now, so he makes a living taking tourists out on the lagoon. This is a well-known bird sanctuary, but unfortunately, it wasn’t the right season or the right time of day to see many birds.
We did spot a few pink flamingos, though. Instead of birds, we mostly saw cows!!!
In the end, we didn’t find Moulay Bousselham very interesting... But you have to come at the right time of year...
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
After lunch, we continue on the awful road, full of potholes, with trash everywhere. It stretches on for kilometers until Kenitra, a large city we drive through to reach the beach at Medhia.
The weather is nice, but there are big waves, and the sea is dangerous.
Behind large dunes, there’s a flat area used as a parking lot. We don’t really like the spot for staying the night, so we take a small sandy road to a pine grove where we find a much quieter place. The track to get there was a bit stressful: we risk getting stuck in the sand several times, but phew, we make it!
In the evening, we see a horse-drawn cart and a motorcycle with two guys on it pass by. Everyone gives us big waves 👋 Then, no one else—it’s a very quiet night.
Saturday, September 20th:
Now, we’re heading to the highway to bypass Salé, Rabat, and Casablanca, big cities we don’t feel like lingering in.
There’s a lot of traffic around these cities, and Moroccans have a very special way of driving: some don’t know which lane they should be in, so they drive right down the middle! Others go very slowly, and some swerve out of nowhere. You’ve got to stay alert! A guy on a scooter zigzags in front of us, going full speed 🛵 We even saw someone on an electric scooter on the highway!
Past these big cities, the highway follows a rather ugly landscape: vacant lots, construction sites, trash… until we reach the road to Azemmour.
Azemmour: We park the van easily on the curb facing the old medina. The streets, quiet at this hour, lead to the ramparts by the Oum-er-Rbia River 🏰 Some murals decorate the medina walls, like in Asilah… but more run-down. It’s much less touristy here, and the homes haven’t been bought and renovated by Westerners, unlike most of those in Asilah’s medina.
By the Oum-er-Rbia River, the promenade lined with small cafés is very pleasant...
On the wall of the communal oven, a mural celebrates Estevanico, a native of Azemmour who became an explorer in America.
The neighborhood’s communal oven, where each resident brings their dough to be baked:
The baker, really friendly, lets us taste a piece of bread but can’t sell us any since he only bakes the loaves brought by families...
We leave the medina and the city to head to the seaside. The parking lot by the beach where we stop for lunch is unfortunately littered with trash 🗑️ The beach is beautiful, but the sky is overcast, and the sea is very rough. Apparently, the currents are dangerous here. We won’t be going for a swim, then. We hit the road again toward El Jadida.
El-Jadida: Along the seafront, tall, rather luxurious buildings stand, with modern bars and restaurants at their base. Today, Saturday, there are people on the beach despite the gloomy weather.
We park in a large lot near the Portuguese citadel… then stroll through the old streets and along the ramparts of what was once “the fortress-island of Mazagan” (back then, the sea surrounded the city).
Unfortunately for us, the stunning Portuguese cistern, one of the citadel’s major sites, is closed for renovations—no one knows until when 🚧
The Portuguese citadel is surrounded by ramparts with four bastions.
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
On the roads of Morocco in a camper van:
The coastal road after El-Jadida passes by large petrochemical complexes.
Fortunately, after leaving them behind, we finally reach a coast where the environment is more pleasant: lagoons and tall reeds, vegetable fields bordered by dunes shape the landscape.
To reach our bivouac spot, we turn onto a small bumpy and winding track that goes through pink salt flats covered with birds, then climbs steeply up rocky cliffs where we park to spend the evening and night.
A small cove stretches out below us, but getting down there doesn’t seem easy. We won’t try since it’s too chilly this evening for a swim.
Local fishermen go down without any problem. They tell us they’re fishing for octopus among the rocks using a long pole. What a stunning spot! We’ll sleep lulled by the sound of the waves.
The cove below our bivouac
We slept well on the cliff above the sea. This morning, when we woke up, we saw three small donkeys with packsaddles tied at the edge of the cliff. They’re waiting for the women who are down below scraping among the rocks.
What are they gathering? Maybe mussels or oysters, which are famous around here.
The locals in the area also collect a lot of red algae that thrive on this coast in the summer. Later in the fall, they won’t be allowed to gather them anymore. They’re used in the pharmaceutical industry and are a good source of income for the locals.
Following the coast to Oualidia, the road overlooks the lagoon and market gardens climbing up the dunes. After El-Jadida, the coastal landscape is much more beautiful than what we’ve seen since the start of our trip.
Oualidia:
It’s busy today because it’s Sunday, and Moroccans, especially from Casablanca, come here for the weekend.
In town, café terraces are filled with people having breakfast—*msemens* (flaky pancakes) spread with *kiri* (a soft cheese) and honey. All the cafés have small stalls on their terraces to cook these delicious pancakes, and we can’t resist buying some for our lunch.
After picking up a few supplies in town, we park in one of the beach parking lots (5 Dh).
There are two parts to Oualidia: the town and the seaside resort. The resort itself has two beaches—one on the Atlantic side where the fishing boats are, and the lagoon beach sheltered from the waves. This part of the coast is the most fish-rich in Morocco.
The lagoon of Oualidia. The lagoon-side beach is separated from the ocean breakers.
Fishermen sell their fish and shellfish along the beach near the fishing port.
The boats are pulled onto the beach by a tractor.
We head toward the lighthouse of Beddouza...
At the end of the road by the lighthouse, a long and beautiful beach stretches out. We park at the very end, in a parking lot hidden by the dunes. We’ll stay here all afternoon and night. The weather isn’t great, and the long, beautiful beach is almost deserted today...
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
Thanks Jean for your interest, especially coming from a Morocco lover like you...
I continue my story:
We arrive in Safi: We were very sad to learn about the terrible disaster that struck the beautiful medina of Safi with that massive flood that devastated it recently.
The medina of Safi: We have fond memories of it because it’s authentic and lively, with lots of locals and small shops.
We get lost in the maze of many arched, dark, and cool passageways. This medina is really interesting because it’s vibrant and popular, with its souk and all kinds of stalls: tailoring, hairdressing, fishing supplies, etc.
In the medina, people greet us everywhere. The Portuguese cathedral is closed for renovations, so we just pass by it! As we leave onto Place Sidi Boudhab, a café with a welcoming terrace beckons us! A little break and some good mint tea will do us good after this long walk… It’s hot, and we’ve walked a lot…
But we can’t leave Safi without taking a quick detour to the nearby potters’ hill.
From the top of the hill, we can see the potters’ kilns.
We then take the coastal road, but first, we pass through the sardine cannery district, followed by large chemical and industrial complexes, and the big Port of Safi Atlantique with lots of construction work all along the road. What a hassle!
Our journey continues with lots of major roadworks all the way… until we reach the charming little port of Bhaibah.
What a pleasant surprise this pretty little port is!
The sea is very rough there. The waves crash into the jagged volcanic rocks and burst out through the holes in geysers of spray. Impressive!
A mosque and a few houses: the little port of Bhaibiah.
The sea bursts out in geysers from the rock crevices!
Further along the beach, the boats are resting.
Taking a slightly sandy track, we arrive at the “Mogador Oasis” campsite. It’s open, contrary to what we thought, and that’s a nice surprise… It’s recently been taken over by a young French couple who’ve renovated everything. It’s a lovely spot in the middle of the dunes, facing the long beach. There’s even a beautiful seawater pool and well-separated pitches... A fantastic place!
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
Essaouira:
We park in a lot near a small supermarket about 1.5 km from the medina and set off on foot along the main avenue, passing first some buildings, then a whole jumble of things—a tannery, garages, carpentry shops, warehouses...
A stroll through the medina’s streets, along the sqala, and down to the port... I won’t go on too much, everyone knows Essaouira... Still as touristy as ever, but the city has kept all its charm. Of course, we check if the little eatery "El Assouani" is still there. And yes, we find it, still the same, in the same spot, and its tagines are just as delicious!
Mr. El Assouani, a great spot in Essaouira!
We need to find a place to spend the night because the campsite near the beach, where we stayed in 2009, is gone. Buildings have taken its place—it’s the price of mass tourism...
So we hit the road toward Sidi-Kaouki... This place doesn’t look promising! It’s just huge campsites packed with RVs side by side, and the beach covered in umbrellas and lounge chairs... Not at all what I expected! Way too crowded here...
So we drive past Sidi-Kaouki and settle in the dunes planted with argan trees and small thorny bushes. To get there, you have to follow a rocky, bumpy track.
It’s a lovely, quiet spot with a view of the sea in the distance...
Wednesday, September 24: Thanks to your great tips, Jean, we visit the salt mines of Ida-ou-Azza, where rock salt is extracted. By injecting fresh water into the galleries where the salt is found, the water becomes salty and is then left to settle in basins, like salt marshes. Fascinating...
A little later, we pass Cap Tafafelney and the stunning Tafadna beach.
To get there, you take a winding road that descends steeply to the small fishing port. Behind the long beach, small white and blue houses line the promenade. Hardly anyone here... It’s very peaceful.
We sit on the beach, and I brave the sea... But it’s freezing, and the wind is blowing hard.
The little port and beautiful Tafadna beach
It’s not warm enough to stay on the beach, so we get back on the N1 after lunch...
At one of the many police checkpoints (there are *so* many in Morocco), an officer signals us to stop. He gives us a 150 Dh fine for speeding: we were going 77 km/h in a 60 km/h zone. We didn’t even see the speed limit—there are so many signs on the ground: 60 km/h, then 80 km/h, then back to 60 km/h... It’s completely inconsistent! Oh well, the officer gives us a receipt. We’re not the only ones getting stopped—practically everyone is. It’s pretty common here, apparently... So watch out for all the signs!
After getting back on the road, we take a turnoff marked “Tildi beach.”
We follow a steep, rocky track that winds along a breathtaking canyon carved by a tiny oued. A little nook under the argan trees gives us shelter for the evening and night. We’d rather not drive down to the tiny village below because our van isn’t a 4x4, and the track is *very* steep... Especially since we’ll have to climb back up tomorrow!
It’s a gorgeous spot with the sea on the horizon.
At the end of the canyon is the small village of Tildi
We continue south along the coast... We pass Tamri and its large banana plantation. We take the chance to buy some small bananas—they’re *so* good...
We keep heading south... A quick stop in Aghroud and its colorful houses... Then we carry on to Taghazout. We’d been there before, and I knew it had changed a lot... We don’t linger too long, just enough time for a nice swim in the sea—finally warm—and the weather’s beautiful and hot... Until late morning, when the wind picks up again! Then it’s Agadir, which we just pass through...
First along the fishing port, then the commercial port. The cable cars heading up to the old kasbah on its hill pass right over our heads!
We follow wide avenues with pretty heavy traffic, new neighborhoods with lots of trees, landscaped paid parking lots, modern and tidy complexes. It feels like the Catalan coast!
We stop to grab a few things at the Carrefour supermarket (buying some "Casablanca" beer. Alcohol, which is pretty expensive, is in a section completely separate from the rest of the store). It feels like France in this shopping center, with Western fashion stores, trendy clothes, Decathlon, etc...
And we leave the coast to head into the Anti-Atlas... We keep driving, still along big, busy avenues with lots of roundabouts. The suburbs are really spread out: Inezgane, Ait-Melloul—very long towns that are kind of a pain to drive through...
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
After the very sprawling outskirts of Agadir, we take the R105 toward Tafraoute.
It’s late, and we need to find a place for the night. Our planned stop was supposed to be a quiet spot in the countryside just before the village we wanted to visit the next day to see the old fortified granary of Ikounka.
But shortly after we settled in, a guy—supposedly a security officer—arrived on a moped and ordered us to leave and park in the town of Aït-Baha. Well, we had no choice but to leave that beautiful spot… What a shame… So we headed to Aït-Baha and parked in a lot at the entrance of town, which seemed really peaceful…
The night was actually quite calm—until the muezzin’s call at 5:30 AM! This morning, we turned back to see the famous fortified granaries (agadirs) of Ikounka and Imchguiguiln. They’re indeed very large and beautiful, but unfortunately, they were closed. No matter how much we asked the locals, either they didn’t understand or they didn’t know how to find the caretaker… So we only got to see them from the outside, which is really too bad…
Agadir Ikounka
Agadir of Imchguiguiln
Then we got back on the R105, passing through Aït-Baha again. All along this winding road through the ochre mountains, dotted with argan trees, we had amazing views. It runs through small villages with red-ochre houses that blend into the hillsides…
The Tizourgane kasbah
It sits atop its rocky spur. Once a 13th-century fortified village made of granite, around which houses were built, it also served as an agadir (fortified granary)… It’s been fully restored by a family who now runs a guesthouse there.
After paying 20 Dh per person, we could wander through the alleys, admire the houses built with skillfully assembled stones, the beautifully carved and painted doors with traditional motifs, and enjoy the stunning views of the surrounding area…
The R105 continues through breathtaking landscapes. Then it gets narrower, with badly damaged shoulders, making passing difficult.
And finally, we arrive in Tafraoute… It’s scorching hot here—quite a change from the coast!
The Tazka campsite, where we stayed 16 years ago, is closed (under construction), and the others are either closed or too far away. The only one open is the “3 Palmiers” campsite, and it’s packed! The good thing is that it’s right near the town center.
Once we’re settled at the campsite, we head into town to buy some bread and happily return to the café we loved back in 2009 (Memories, memories!). We enjoy a fruit juice on the terrace, where we can watch the street life. Then we take a little stroll through the babouche souk (yes, Tafraoute is the babouche capital!).
In this region, women wear a distinctive outfit: a black veil and a dress made of a black skirt brightened by a colorful trim at the bottom, wrapped three times and topped with a black elasticated ruffle over a long-sleeved, colorful top.
The babouche souk
Saturday, September 27:
This morning, around 9 AM, we set off for a long walk around Tafraoute, just like we did in 2009. We take the road past the “Tazka” and “Granit Rose” campsites—both closed—and… we arrive at the pretty village of Tazekka.
The village of Tazekka
The village houses are built among the granite boulders.
After reaching the last houses in the village, we take what looks like an old trail. We climb over large rocks, but after a while, the path becomes impassable… So we look for another way and finally find a “trail” marked by piles of stones placed at regular intervals. Great marking, in the end! We just had to spot the start.
We often end up walking in the completely dry bed of a wadi. The drought is severe here. The sun is blazing… It’s heartbreaking to see this nature dying of thirst… A few shrubs, thorny plants, and succulents manage to survive in the rock crevices where a little moisture remains. There are even small oleanders in bloom! Beehives are lined up, but what’s there to forage here?
The landscape is still just as stunningly beautiful!
A mineral landscape, no one around, not a sound—absolute silence…
We take a short break in the shade of a large rock, enjoying some small bananas we bought in Tamri (they’re really excellent), and then turn back. It’s 11:50 AM, and it’s really hot. Time to head back… We’re back in the village of Tazekka, and there’s still a bit of road before we reach the campsite. When we arrive, we’re drenched in sweat and exhausted…
This afternoon, it’s time to rest… until 5:30 PM, when we head into town. In front of our usual café, a woman is making msemens, those delicious Berber crepes we love so much…
Tafraoute is a really nice little town where you feel at home.
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
I’m really enjoying following your journey through a country that left me with great memories.
« 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
First of all, thanks Joël, for following my story...
I’ll continue:
Sunday, September 28: In the morning, we leave the campsite and take the road to the Aït-Mansour gorges. It’s quite narrow and winding, with some vertigo-inducing sections. We drive through a stunning landscape of ochre mountains...
Once we reach the start of the gorges, we follow the road that cuts through them—at times very narrow and damaged...
There’s still a little water at the bottom of the gorges, and the nature here is lush.
We continue past the gorge oasis to a village where a souk is taking place (Souk-Had-Issi, we assume), then to the village of Tiwadou, where our camping neighbors had recommended the Sahnoun hostel.
Village of Tiwadou
Unfortunately, today being Sunday, it’s closed—too bad! (And we should’ve booked ahead.) So we turn back.
Suddenly, on the road, an elderly woman in traditional dress waves us down and speaks to us in a language we don’t understand. She repeats the word “souk” several times, so she must want to go to the village we just passed.
We let her hop in, and she’s overjoyed. When I open the door for her, she even kisses me to show her happiness! When we drop her off at the village, the men sitting at the café terrace are surprised to see this old woman getting out of our camper van!
Back to the Aït-Mansour gorges, then... and lunch at "Mustapha’s hostel," the only one around. In this tiny "hostel," the menu only has Berber omelets, mint tea with cookies... and dates, of course! There are date palms everywhere...
Well, it’ll do—the terrace under the foliage is really nice... But the bill is pretty steep! He’s taking advantage, the rascal! Oh well, we had a good time...
We hit the road again through the mountains toward Tafraoute and stop at a large, flat area overlooking the valley. A perfect spot to spend the night!
From there, you can even see the painted rocks site (though honestly, it’s an eyesore! What a bizarre idea to paint such beautiful rocks blue in their natural shade!)... Still, the view is amazing... Luckily, from here, you need binoculars to see them!
Monday, September 29:
We wake up in the mountains above Tafraoute, facing a stunning panorama. We’re at 1,600m altitude, but by 9 AM, the sun is already beating down. It gets very hot during the day, but in the evening, the cold wind cools things down...
We take the road toward Igherm, passing through Tafraoute again... The landscape is desert-like, with stretches of barren hills dotted with old adobe villages...
The beautiful Anti-Atlas mountains, gray and ochre, are striped with parallel lines, as if combed by a giant rake!
Then we cross Igherm and continue on road 106 toward Taliouine. But, as a French couple in a camper van we met before Igherm warned us, the road after this town is in very bad shape.
Heavy storm rains washed away part of the road, and the fords (platforms at stream crossings) are under repair.
In some places, it’s just a rocky track replacing the road—really tough to navigate. You have to go very slowly... It’s stressful and exhausting.
About 50 km before Taliouine, around 5:30 PM, we decide to stop for the evening and night on a large, flat, rocky area at the foot of striped hills. In the distance, a small village with its mosque... Clumps of scaly plants dot the desert landscape. The wind tempers the day’s intense heat...
The night was very calm, and this morning, we savor these poetic moments: the sun rising behind the hills on the horizon, the clumps of plants crowned with light... That’s the joy of sleeping in nature...
Luckily, the road from there to Taliouine is in good condition—phew!
Just before Taliouine, a young boy waves us down in front of a house. He says he missed the school minibus or that it didn’t come (we don’t fully understand since his French isn’t great). Come on, we’ll take him—he’s not missing school today!
The landscape changes as we approach the city. It’s much greener now, with orchards stretching out...
We park on a large area overlooking part of the city, just steps from the lively center. It’s market day, so it’s busy...
Taliouine, market day...
After a few purchases, we’re about to head back to our camper van. At the corner of the main street, there’s a café with an oven on its terrace. A guy is just taking out flat, lumpy galettes.
Women sitting there call out to us kindly, explaining that it’s traditional Berber bread. We sit down too for some tea, and these young women tell us they’re Franco-Moroccan and live in Lille. They came with their mother to visit family back home: uncles, aunts, cousins. They insist on paying for our drinks, and one even buys saffron from a producer her uncle knows to give to us! So sweet! (Taliouine is the center of saffron production, also called "red gold" here.)
Near Taliouine is one of the many properties of the Glaoui of Marrakech.
In 2009, we were able to visit the one in Telouet, which is now closed for renovation—it’s a good thing if it’s being restored, because it was heartbreaking to see all that beauty left to decay.
This one is quite dilapidated, and you can’t visit inside, but it’s still beautiful from the outside.
We continue to the village of Ifri, where there’s an agadir (fortified granary) clinging to the cliff.
We ask a small shopkeeper by the road how to get there. He tells us to go to the village mosque, near which the agadir’s guardian lives.
To enter the village of Ifri, you have to cross a ford via a narrow, rocky track with steep descents and climbs. We park after crossing it, at the village entrance. There, a guy who improvises as a guide leads us to the foot of the cliff.
Before getting there, we follow paths along cultivated plots surrounded by earthen walls. This is where crocuses will soon be grown—their stigmas produce the famous saffron. Several times, he points out plots where he says “safron”!... He shows us the irrigation system and other crops: wheat, alfalfa, almond trees, olive trees...
At the foot of the cliff, he says he’ll go get the keys and soon returns with the real guardian. The guardian opens the door and shows us the different rooms where grain was stored, telling us these granaries were even used as homes in the past.
And the fortified granary in the cliff
This time, we were able to visit the inside of the agadir: steep little staircases, doors with unique locks, and always the hole for the cat to pass through to hunt mice! All in all, a very interesting visit.
We give 50 Dh to the guardian and 10 Dh to the guy who accompanied us to the agadir.
We get back on the road, which is straight and in good condition, all the way to Tazenakt, which we cross before heading to the Taghdoute dam lake nearby to spend the night. The lake is lined with tamarisks and home to shovelers and coots. A beautiful setting, but ruined by all the trash people leave behind after picnics. Too bad!
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
Wednesday, October 1, 2025: A beautiful sunrise over the lake 🌅 Coots and ducks are quacking away 🦆 After another stretch of road, we arrive in sight of the old ksar of Aït-Benhaddou around 11:15 AM.
After parking the camper van without any issues along the street, in front of rows of restaurants and hotels, we cross the dry riverbed and enter the ksar through the main gate.
There, to our surprise, we’re asked to pay 20 Dh per person—while, as we’ll see later, most visitors led by their guides cross via the pedestrian bridge and pay nothing! We’re shocked by all the souvenir shops filling the alleys of the old ksar. Not a single spot without displays of all kinds of jewelry, carpets, watercolors, objects, etc. 🛍️ And the number of tour groups on organized trips is staggering! There are people from all nationalities…
You can’t see anything of the ksar with so many people and items spread everywhere!
We climb to the top (under construction), where we admire the view of the maze of alleys and covered passages, then descend through these same alleys where, in 2009, we were practically alone.
Back then, we could admire the beautiful doors, and the houses were still inhabited. Now, they’re occupied by souvenir shops… What a change!
Let’s flee this infernal crowd pouring into the narrow alleys of the ksar in continuous waves…
We take refuge in a small restaurant where we enjoy a delicious chicken and lemon tajine with vegetables. It’s the restaurant « Tamlalte », located near the pedestrian bridge. We’re almost alone there, and we have a great view of the ksar through the large bay windows.
… Then, to get back to the camper van, we pass through a very narrow alley at the corner of which there’s a small café with a welcoming terrace, covered by a light pergola. We enjoy a very good fresh « apple-pomegranate » juice made on the spot. Phew, it feels good to rest on this little terrace in peace. It’s still scorching hot today…
We hit the road again and head to Ouarzazate. We start with some shopping at the Carrefour supermarket (it’s the only one where you can find beer), then park facing the Kasbah of Taourirt. It was one of the many residences of Pasha El-Glaoui. Considerably expanded in the 1920s, it’s actually a ksar—a fortified village that was inhabited (no longer since 1956). Unfortunately, it’s currently under construction, so we can only admire it from the outside.
The Kasbah of Taourirt
Since we can’t visit the main kasbah, we take a stroll through the adjacent ksar.
It’s still home to several families, and several guesthouses welcome visitors.
But there’s no way to be left in peace. The vendors all want to sell us things, others want to guide us…
A guy offers to let us climb for free onto the terrace of a guesthouse. He’s very friendly and explains that the surrounding houses, no longer inhabited or maintained, are deteriorating and falling into ruin.
The rammed-earth constructions (straw and clay) require upkeep. There’s a lot of rubble in the streets, and in several places, artisans are at work. That’s a good thing…
After wandering through the ksar, we try to visit the Cinema Museum, located right across from the main kasbah, but it’s too late—it closes at 5 PM. Oh well… I don’t know if we missed much; reviews are mixed on how interesting this museum is…
After going to the modern part of town to exchange money, we take the road to the Fint Oasis, where we plan to spend the night.
The Fint Oasis, a little slice of paradise!
Upon arriving, we realize we’re out of bread. Will we find any for sale here? A local woman passes by us. I ask her, and she motions for us to follow her. She leads us through the village street (it’s uphill) to a house just past the mosque. She takes us inside to meet another woman, who welcomes us into her inner courtyard.
Quickly, she lays out rugs and cushions on the floor and invites us to sit. She serves us mint tea and brings out traditional flatbreads.
Not losing sight of business, she offers to cook couscous for us tomorrow at noon (120 Dh). Deal made—she’ll come get us so we can watch her prepare the meal…
We buy two loaves of bread from her and return to the camper van parked by the riverbed at the bottom of the village.
We’ll spend the night by the riverbed
To our surprise, there are lots of people gathering carpets they’ve washed in the riverbed and laid out to dry on the rocks.
They explain that there’s a wedding in their family, so they need to clean all these carpets. The whole family spent the day here, with kids, pots, and stoves. They load everything into a pickup truck to head home, near Ouarzazate.
Washing carpets in the riverbed
We finish the evening outside. It was very hot today, and tonight, there’s no cool breeze like other evenings… Several locals come to picnic by the water… Around 10:30 PM, everyone’s gone… total silence.
Thursday, October 2: In the morning, women walk along the riverbed. They’re heading to the marshes at the far end to gather fodder for the animals. Here, women aren’t veiled in black like in the Tafraoute region—they wear floral dresses and headscarves.
We take a little walk on the other side, along gardens with square plots bordered by small earthen walls, cultivated with alfalfa, corn, and vegetables, as well as many date palms.
Around 11 AM, the woman comes to get us to take us to her home.
As last night, we sit on cushions in the inner courtyard of her house.
She first brings us dates and takes us into her very basic kitchen, where the couscoussier is on the fire. Chicken, carrots, and onions are boiling in the lower part, and the semolina is steaming on top.
After a while, she cooks the other vegetables: zucchini, peppers, and eggplants, then puts the semolina in a basin. After adding a little water and oil, she rolls the semolina between her hands to separate the grains and puts it back to cook.
She has to do this three times… While waiting for it to cook, we sip mint tea.
Her husband’s mother also lives there (it’s her house). The old woman sits on the floor in one of the rooms around the courtyard. Her daughter (our hostess’s sister-in-law) brings her a 5-liter jug of goat’s milk. She wraps it in a plastic bag, ties the ends with strings hanging from the ceiling, and swings it back and forth energetically.
It’s an improvised churn to make butter!
I didn’t know you could make butter from goat’s milk. I’ve never seen it for sale anywhere. Apparently, it’s healthier than cow’s milk butter…
In any case, I think she must spend quite a while swinging that churn before getting butter!
An improvised churn!
Meanwhile, the couscous is done cooking. The woman brings us a beautiful dish with the semolina topped with chicken and vegetables, accompanied by a bowl of sauce. It’s very good and filling (though we would’ve liked it spicier).
When we return to the camper van, there are still groups of women washing their carpets in the riverbed. It seems to be a common practice here…
After this lovely stay at the Fint Oasis, we head toward Skoura, crossing a desert-like landscape… We park at the Amridil campsite, located very close to the main kasbah… Since it’s very hot and there’s a pool at this campsite, we take a quick dip before visiting the kasbah (we’d already been there in 2009). Not only is it hot, but the AC and interior ventilation in our old camper van are broken!!! It’s the same one we came to Morocco with, and we’ve traveled through many countries in it. It’s still going strong!
In 2009, we loved the beautiful, lush palm grove that stretched behind the kasbah.
This place was very green, with all kinds of irrigated crops growing under the palm and olive trees. We’re saddened to see it so dried out now. The palm trees are attacked by a parasitic fungus, « bayoud, » which weakens them and prevents them from resisting the severe drought caused by rising temperatures.
Around the kasbah, it’s a construction site—the road is under repair, with big piles of earth, stones, and dust everywhere…
The kasbah is also being restored, but you can still visit part of it (40 Dh per person). It was featured on the old 50 Dh banknotes with the portrait of Hassan II. And it served as a filming location.
You can only see a small part of it, containing everyday objects (kitchen, bread oven, oil press), and climb onto the terraces where masons are at work. The Kasbah of Amridil looks impressive from the front, but the back is in poor condition.
After a short walk through the palm grove (or what’s left of it), we return to the campsite, exhausted because it’s still stiflingly hot today. Fortunately, a little wind picks up in the evening—it feels good. There aren’t many people at the campsite; not many tourists around here at the moment…
Tomorrow, we’re heading to the Valley of the Roses…
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
Friday, October 3:
We set off fairly late from the Amridil campsite, and drive to El-Kelaa des M’gouna, through a rather unappealing landscape of vast, rocky desert. Still scorching hot today!
In El-Kelaa, we do some shopping. The town is packed with shops selling rose-based products, but we still manage to find bread and vegetables!
We head toward Bou-Tahrar... The road leading to the Valley of Roses on the outskirts of El-Kelaa is under heavy construction. So much so that we have to drive on a bumpy, gravelly track covered in dust and pebbles. Speed limit signs are everywhere. And it goes on like this for about 20 km!
There’s so much construction work in Morocco these days...
Finally, we emerge onto a well-maintained road that follows a beautiful green landscape: eroded ochre and pink mountains overlooking the oued lined with vegetation. It’s a welcome change from the desert expanses we’ve been crossing!
For lunch, we take a small road/track down to the edge of the oued. We stop for a much-needed break in this lovely setting. The spot is flat and sandy but firm, so there’s no risk of getting stuck... After this pleasant moment—a picnic by the water—we get back on the road and follow the oued through breathtaking scenery.
We first arrive in Tamaloute, where we don’t linger, then in Bou-Tahrar, a pretty village with the old Aït-Oumergdane kasbah at its center.
Kids are playing soccer in the street, others are carrying wood and branches on their mules, and some are racing down the street on their bikes. Since it’s Friday, the shops are closed—the street belongs to them... Friendly vibe.
Often in villages, young kids, as soon as they see tourists, have gotten into the habit of begging for candy, pens, or dirhams. Now, the older kids keep an eye on them and stop them. It’s a good thing because it was getting pretty annoying!
The kasbah of Aït-Boumergdane
He’s loading the mule!!!
In Bou-Tahrar village, a soccer game in the street...
We decide to park for the night at the spot where we had lunch, by the M’Goun oued.
Several vehicles pass by us since there are villages on the other side of the oued and a ford. They greet us warmly, and some kids on bikes even give us two beautiful pomegranates! Nice...
Olive trees, pomegranate trees, tall reeds, and oleanders line the water, along with silver birches, corn, and alfalfa fields. It’s not rose season...
As in all oases, women walk by carrying sacks of fodder on their backs to feed the animals kept in the courtyards.
Saturday, October 4: We head toward Boulmane-du-Dadès... and follow the Dadès Valley. The road is lined with adobe villages, crops, and orchards along the oued, with rocky geological formations called “monkey fingers” towering above. A parking lot is set up in front of these rounded rocks to welcome tourists. It’s a major tourist spot in Morocco: hikers, cyclists with their guides come from Marrakech by minibus.
The Valley of the "Monkey Paws"
After a quick photo stop of the rocks along the valley, we continue and enter the gorges. The road is bordered by magnificent rock formations, deep canyons, and breathtaking landscapes... And hardly anyone around!
And the big tortoise...
Msemrir:
We’d already been here in 2009 and are having a hard time recognizing it. It’s market day, and there’s a lively atmosphere... It’s 3:30 PM, and the vendors are packing up their goods.
Back when we visited, in Msemrir, it was the “end of the tarmac”... Some very friendly gentlemen tell us that now the road continues all the way to Agoudal, where you can reach the Todgha Gorges.
So we’ll be able to take this beautiful, well-maintained road, which climbs gently through lunar landscapes dotted with stone houses and apple orchards. This is apple country!
For the night, we park in the barren mountains at 2,815 meters altitude, about 20 km from Msemrir.
The spot is a bit polluted with oil stains (it was a stop for machinery during the road construction), but the surrounding mountain scenery is stunning... Anyway, it’s too cold to eat outside!
And it’s very quiet—no traffic around here...
Two little donkeys keep us company... It’s nice to see donkeys that aren’t tied up or loaded with heavy bundles!
Sunday, October 5:
The night in the mountains near Msemrir was pretty chilly, but luckily, we have a good duvet (which we hadn’t had a chance to use until now)!
We set off again on the beautiful road toward Agoudal... Along the way, we pick up an elderly gentleman walking with his stick and slippers! He wants to go to Agoudal, 18 km away, and there aren’t many vehicles on this road!
There’s activity in the fields this morning: plowing with mule teams, women and children picking apples and fodder, others digging with hoes.
Along the way, we spot Berber nomads with their herds in the mountains.
Soon, the road becomes completely wrecked, full of potholes, but the landscape is still magnificent!
We buy bread in the village of Aït-Hani. The kids ask for candy, pens, or dirhams—one even throws a rock at us! What a welcome! But as soon as an adult approaches, they stop...
Next, we arrive in Tamtatouche, which we just pass through. A dam has just been built right after the village... And we enter the Todgha Gorges. There still aren’t too many tourists—hardly anyone on the road...
The closer we get to the narrows where the Todgha has carved deep gorges, the more traffic there is.
At the entrance to the narrows, there are large parking lots, but very few vehicles are parked there.
The strangest thing is that in the gorge itself—at a narrow passage by the oued—there’s a huge traffic jam: three tourist buses are parked on the side, and another is coming from the opposite direction. The driver, probably a beginner, doesn’t dare to move forward. He’s afraid of falling into the oued!
Several people try to guide him. We’re completely stuck... After a long while, he finally decides to pass, and we can finally move forward! And all this because the buses, instead of parking in the lots, do it right in the middle of the narrows so tourists have less walking to do!!! Ridiculous!
There are souvenir vendors set up all along... and even a little bar with a terrace!
The locals, with their families, come to picnic by the oued. They watch this spectacle with amusement...
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
After the Todgha Gorge, the palm grove, and the village of Aït-Boujane
we head to the parking lot/belvedere overlooking the large palm grove. There are souvenir vendors, of course, but the parking lot is very spacious, and we find a quiet spot to park and have lunch (after shooing away the kids who are quite a nuisance around here).
Tour buses or cars occasionally stop to admire the view of the palm grove. Immediately, they’re swarmed by vendors trying to get them to buy something…
Next, we go to Tineghir:
We park in the center and walk to the old ksar Aït Lhaj Ali and the mellah (the former Jewish quarter). Earthen walls line the narrow alleys, and in the commercial district, there are various small shops.
After visiting Tineghir, we want to see the old Ikelane mosque/medersa.
We get lost on the way and struggle to find it. Fortunately, some very friendly kids help us navigate through the palm grove…
What’s more, they don’t ask for anything and even refuse the reward we offer for guiding us there…
We follow the paths through the large palm grove, which is more like an olive grove in this area.
Very lush, it’s planted with many fruit trees (olive trees, pomegranates, fig trees…)
Arrows pointing to the mosque are painted in several places, but we had to find the start of the trail! There’s probably another access through the ruined ksar behind it—mystery!
The guardian (whom we wake up!) shows us the different rooms, gives us lots of explanations, and takes us up to the muezzin’s terrace. At the end of the visit, we give him 40 Dh (you give what you want).
In the Ikelane mosque, the prayer room
The ablution room, with a 28m-deep well that still has water...
On the terrace, the dome that was damaged by lightning
Beautiful view of the palm grove (or rather, the olive grove) from the top of the terrace
For the night, about twenty kilometers from Tineghir, we park on a bare patch of land in the mountains. Stunning view and absolute tranquility…
Monday, October 6: We cross more arid landscapes until we reach Tinejdad.
You have to stop just before the actual town of Tinejdad to access the old ksar.
We visited it in 2009. Back then, the oued had overflowed, and we had to cross a temporary bridge by wading through. Today, the oued is completely dry, and we cross on foot after parking the van across the way.
Here, women wear "haïks," black (or white) fabric embroidered with bright Berber patterns. In 2009, there was a women’s cooperative selling embroidered haïks—I even bought one. This time, I didn’t see anything; everything was closed…
The old ksar of Tinejdad
And we arrive in Goulmina:
We stop along a shopping street to pick up a few supplies. As I step out of the van, I come face-to-face with a man who looks like a Westerner. He’s accompanied by a Moroccan. I ask them where the "old ksar Goulmina" mentioned in the Gandini guide is. They tell us it’s 1.2 km away and kindly point us in the right direction.
Soon, we arrive at the gate flanked by two towers, one of which is the mosque’s minaret. Across from it is a large open space used for threshing during harvest season and as a parking lot the rest of the time. That’s where we park the van. A guy quickly introduces himself as an official guide (he has a badge)…
We accept his offer. He only asks for a ridiculously small payment, and he turns out to be very interesting (so we end up giving him more!)
He explains the life of the ksar’s inhabitants, takes us through the different alleys, courtyards, and covered passages, and shows us the stables where goats and donkeys are raised…
The gate of the old ksar Goulmina
After visiting the ksar, the guide shows us the lush gardens behind it: palm trees, fig trees, olive trees, and various crops
It’s high time for lunch when we leave the ksar and our friendly guide.
To exit the ksar’s neighborhood, we have to take a fairly narrow alley, and it’s school dismissal time! Lots of kids on foot and bikes flood the street. We have to wait a good while before we can get through!
After lunch, the road continues north. We cross the city of Errachidia, passing near the Hassan-Addakhil dam lake—a vast expanse of intensely blue water surrounded by rocky hills.
Tamarix plantations have been set up all along the road, which is a great initiative. For now, they’re still very small… Then we follow the Ziz Valley…
For the night, we’re setting up at the "Jurassic Park" campsite.
This campsite is pleasant, not overcrowded, and affordable. It’ll let us refill our water and empty the tanks. There’s even a pool, but we won’t get to enjoy it—it’s too late tonight…
Tuesday, October 7:
We leave "Jurassic Park" and head north toward Midelt, passing under the Legionnaire’s small tunnel.
In Midelt, we go shopping at the municipal market. The city seems much more modern than we remember (though maybe our memory is playing tricks on us!)
We have lunch on the terrace of a small eatery, the "Berber Restaurant." Good lamb tagines and vegetables (45 Dh each)…
We leave the city and make a short stop to have coffee near a small oued that forms a kind of oasis in this desert landscape: grass, reeds, apple trees, and almond trees. This bucolic scenery is very relaxing. Too bad the road runs so close by…
As we drive through the mountains, the sky fills with thick clouds, and a few drops even fall. But the blue sky quickly returns…
Greenery now lines the road, and in the fields, large herds of sheep and goats graze—even cows! What a change of scenery!
The road is good, but there are lots of big trucks loaded to the brim (straw bales sticking out everywhere), and since it’s uphill, they’re moving very slowly. With all the curves, it’s hard to pass them. Sometimes we have to drive at 12 km/h for several kilometers.
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
Our overnight stop:
After some research, we’re parking in the cedar forest just before Azrou on a high plateau at 1,800m.
To get there, you take a dirt track and, along the way, we’re surprised to come face-to-face with a big truck. What’s it doing on this narrow, remote track?
The driver signals that it’s passable, and we take the chance to ask what he’s carrying. He tells us it’s pozzolan—a volcanic rock—used to make cement. He even grabs a handful from the back to show us! He explains there’s a quarry further on.
All evening, big trucks make round trips loaded with pozzolan.
From where we’re parked, we can see them passing on the trail. Luckily, by 9 PM, it’s quiet. Let’s hope they don’t start too early tomorrow morning!
Wednesday, October 8:
No big trucks during the night—phew! And this morning, the first one only passed at 8:30.
We hit the road again toward Michlifen, where there’s a small winter sports resort with ski lifts.
The mountain landscape, with its green meadows and cedar forests, contrasts sharply with the desert expanses we’ve just crossed.
We pass through Azrou, then Ifrane, where the king has a summer residence. It’s very upscale there, with well-maintained flowerbeds and urban planning.
The Ifrane forest is the most beautiful cedar grove in Morocco. Barbary macaques—also called "Berber macaques"—live here, and you can easily spot them by the roadside. They’re the only macaques found outside Asia.
We arrive in Sefrou, a small town we really liked...
We park in a lot across from the medina. What a beautifully colorful and lively medina! It’s surrounded by crenellated walls and split in two by the Aggay riverbed (completely dry this season—and full of trash).
Along the riverbed: pink facades and tall trees
Several medina streets are filled with artisan workshops making passementerie (trimmings for dresses and djellabas).
We’re intrigued by the number of shops selling small, flexible colored plastic tubes. A friendly merchant explains they’re used to make little round cherry-shaped buttons (a local specialty), embroidered with twisted thread and small motors.
These buttons are used for caftans and djellabas and are made by many women in the area.
Further on, we find ourselves in the food stall district. We buy some bread and small anise-flavored shortbread cookies. But also thick pancakes—smooth on one side and covered in little bumps on the other! They’re made from semolina... We’ll enjoy them for lunch.
Leaving Sefrou, we take the road skirting Fès. We visited its grand and beautiful medina in 2009 and want to keep the fond memories we have of it.
Plus, we’re eager to end our trip with a short stay on the Mediterranean coast, so we’re heading north—and there’s still a long way to go.
So, after Fès, we take the road toward Al-Hoceima.
The landscape along the way is really unique—lunar, with white hills that look like giant crumpled dunes...
A lunar landscape
There’s quite a bit of traffic on this road—big trucks moving very slowly and cars overtaking anywhere... On top of that, the road’s in bad shape, full of rocks and ongoing construction. It feels like driving on corrugated metal—really tough on people and the vehicle (everything shakes inside!).
We turn toward Ketama, and luckily, the road gets better... but it’s still rough because Moroccans drive pretty badly, and there are several small, congested towns to get through. We need to find a spot to stop for the night. No campsites around here, and the first place we found isn’t accessible anymore due to major construction.
We keep going another 50 km before finding another spot (thanks, P4N). It’s a small pull-off near the road, surrounded by vegetation. The scenery is gorgeous: sloping mountains planted with olive trees and holm oaks, with water down below... It could be worse!
In the end, we slept well in this little spot... We heard trucks in the evening, but it quieted down at night.
The next morning, kids on their way to school come by for a shy visit. They’re not used to tourists around here. After standing in front of the van for a long time, they finally ask, "Money?" When we say no, they don’t insist...
We hit the road again...
It’s still full of construction. There’ve been landslides, and large sections of the road are covered in rubble.
Further on, other parts are being repaved, so we get our hopes up—only to hit more construction with big machines, piles of dirt, and rocks everywhere. Plus, we have to deal with big trucks and cars/minibuses overtaking anywhere!
Lots of curves—it’s a mountain road, and the edges are often damaged. It’s no picnic, that’s for sure!!!
In the Rif, it’s cannabis harvest season!
Around here, it’s grown on a large scale. You can see plantations everywhere—on hillsides, near houses, on the smallest plots... The harvested plants are left to dry in the sun on rooftops, balconies, tarps on the ground, etc...
The smell is strong! Kids leaving school walk through the cannabis fumes.
Some men offer us some, but when we refuse, they don’t insist.
Cannabis and hay drying side by side!
Ketama:
There’s a big souk in town today, and the streets are packed with all kinds of vehicles, pedestrians, and stalls... It’s 10:40 AM, and not all the vendors have finished setting up.
Trucks are still arriving, and the fishmongers (coming from the coast?) are just starting to unload their crates...
Finally, we manage to cross the main street and park at the edge of town.
Then, we head to the market to do our shopping. It’s lively, with everything you could want. Each specialty has its own section—beef, poultry, vegetables, etc...
At the edge of town, there’s even a cannabis producers’ cooperative!
Our journey continues. After Ketama, the road is in good condition. Very winding, it snakes through stunning mountain landscapes.
The weather’s beautiful—the sun’s warm, and the cannabis fumes really stand out. The whole mountain smells of it!
After lunch, clouds start clinging to the peaks, and soon, we’re surrounded by fog. We’re definitely in the Rif!
Luckily, it’s not too dense, and the white line marking the middle of the road is still visible.
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
We arrive in El Jebha (or El Jebeha).
After parking along the port, we go for a walk. It’s an active fishing port with white and blue houses. In the afternoon, there are lots of fish stalls in the streets. Fishermen are grilling sardines on braziers.
Many restaurants have barbecues on their terraces and also offer grilled sardines.
We buy about ten to take away because it’s 4 PM and we don’t feel like eating sardines at snack time!
We’ll enjoy them for dinner.
Here, like everywhere in Morocco, you see cars with a coffee or tea percolator attached to the back.
Where are we going to park for the night?
We discover there’s a small campsite in the village of Thagassa.
Thagassa is about ten kilometers from El Jebha.
To get there, you have to take a small road that descends very steeply to the bottom of the cliff.
At the bottom, there’s a mosque, a few houses, and fishing boats in front of the sea.
To reach the campsite, you have to take a rocky, potholed track, crossed by a small wadi, at the end of the village. Yannick goes ahead to scout it out—it should be passable. Let’s go!
And we’re glad we did! We’re welcomed warmly.
The sea is right in front, and chairs invite us to relax. Perfect! (100 Dh/night)
There are already three vans parked in this little secluded spot (a French couple, a German couple, and a solo Belgian).
Relaxing by the sea in Thagassa
The campsite’s little restaurant
Friday, October 10: We’re comfortable here, and the weather is beautiful... We’ll stay for a day of relaxation and sea bathing. It’s a good thing we’re staying today because it’s Friday, and that’s couscous day in Morocco—so also at the campsite’s little restaurant. It’s really excellent and hearty!
The day goes by pleasantly, but in the evening, the weather turns bad. Here comes the rain. Let’s hope we can leave tomorrow without any problems.
Saturday, October 11:
It rained heavily with wind all night. We’re worried, but the campsite owner tells us it’ll be fine. He goes ahead to show us the best place to drive. It’s pretty slippery, but we make it—phew! The wadi coming down from the mountain has swollen a lot. The sea is all brown. The waves are carrying mud from the wadi. Impressive.
Well, the first obstacle is behind us, as well as another branch of the wadi. But there’s still the very steep, wet road climbing up to the top of the cliff. Fortunately, our van climbs well, and here we are on the road. Phew again!
We follow the coastal road toward Tetouan. It’s raining, and the road is lined with large rocks that have fallen from the surrounding mountains. Not very reassuring!
The sea is very rough and full of mud carried down by the wadis flowing strongly.
When we pass through a small seaside resort near Oued Laou (maybe Quaa Asserasse?), the street along the coast is cluttered with large piles of earth and stones washed down from the ravined paths behind. Excavators are working to clear the road.
Bad weather this morning—the sea has changed color...
The wadis swelled enormously during the night...
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
After Oued Laou, the road is no longer covered in dirt, and we arrive in Tetouan around 12:15 PM without any issues.
There’s a lot of traffic in the city.
Despite that, we manage to park in a lot at the foot of the medina and head to the restaurant « El Restinga » for lunch.
Oddly, there aren’t many restaurants in Tetouan. This place is packed, but there’s still a small table for us. Lucky! It turns out to be really good and affordable—we enjoy an excellent chicken pastilla. A great spot!
White Tetouan
Stroll through the medina:
After wandering through several alleys, we take the busy « Rue de Fès ».
Lots of vendors selling all sorts of things: food, odds and ends, cosmetics, materials, etc. It’s like a flea market all along « Rue de Fès » until the Souk El Fouki.
Near Bab-Sebta, there are tanneries (they seem a bit abandoned now—we visited them in 2009, and they were in better shape). They’re not easy to find, either. We ask several people before finally locating them.
In the medina’s alleys
Rue de Fès, the food section
Near Bab-Sebta, you’ll find the Zaouia of the Derkaoua (a Sufi sanctuary)
The tanneries
The Jewish cemetery climbs up the hill
After running a few errands, we leave Tetouan... We park by the Asmir dam lake. It’s a bit tricky to find a spot because it’s crowded—families are picnicking with their braziers, despite the gray weather.
Just after we manage to park, we spot a young couple in trouble by the lake. Their car got stuck in the mud—they got too close to the marshy shore. We try to help with our recovery boards, but it doesn’t work!
Luckily, some other young people come to the rescue, and after pushing hard, they finally get the car out.
But now our boards are covered in sticky mud!
By evening, everyone leaves. Tomorrow, we’re leaving Morocco. The ferry is scheduled for 1:30 PM.
We still have a few days of travel left: driving up Spain with some nice stops along the coast, then crossing France to get home...
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
I can't believe you went through Ketama. That name alone conjures up some of the best-quality hashish. There was a time when it was pretty risky to even set foot in that area.
« 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
Hey Joël, yep, we passed through Ketama. No problem at all—we even wandered the streets where there was a big souk... Some guys offered us hash but didn’t insist. We’d already been to the Rif in 2009, but back then it was pretty close to harassment!
Still, we were amazed by how widespread the cultivation is—it’s really everywhere. And the weed smell was something else, no need to smoke!!!
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
Really nice travel journal.
It's great to see one where Safi, Beddouza, and Bhaibiah Beach are visited.
We often go to Beddouza—the beach is stunning and huge.
We’ve also been to the campsite at Bhaibiah Beach a lot. It’s cool that it’s reopened.
Thanks for enjoying my story... These beaches are indeed really beautiful and not very crowded (at least in September—there must be more people in the summer when it’s hotter, I think...), and we really loved the lovely medina of Safi. We were so sorry to hear about the recent disaster there.
Anne
Mes récits de voyages : www.unendroitoualler.fr
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"How about a Christmas market this year, huh? A little romantic weekend getaway...
- Yes! That’d be cool! Strasbourg? Colmar?
- Feels a bit déjà vu, doesn’t it? Plus, slim chance of snow there... And I’d love something a bit more exotic with a touch of originality..."
"Okay, Google, give me the list of the five most beautiful Christmas markets in Europe.
- In fifth place, the Christmas market in Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania.
- Save your breath! Lithuania, here we come!"
We wanted cold, and cold is exactly what we got the moment we set foot in this new, unknown land. As for landscapes, forests and lakes stretch as far as the eye can see across this vast plain, its vegetation scorched by the frost of a winter that’s clearly already well underway here.
Lakes, in fact, set the scene for our first visit to Trakai Castle, whose brick-red towers and walls rise proudly against the azure sky of our first day. Lakes, because this castle was built on an island and is only accessible on foot via a series of walkways spanning half-frozen lake offshoots. I couldn’t have picked a better spot to build my castle! Translation: We’re totally sold! Proof is we spend two hours hiking around the area, alternating between forests, reeds, and cozy houses tastefully decorated for Christmas.
After as many weeks as I have fingers on my right hand, we're hitting the road again, fully recovered from our pharaonic adventure. Back in France to drop off our daughters (sorry, girls!), this time it's just the two of us, ready to be welcomed by a new destination. They say it offers one of the richest cultural heritages in the world for those willing to put in the effort. It's the land of the ancient Silk Road, where we'll follow a journey steeped in history and discoveries straight out of *One Thousand and One Nights*. A former Soviet bloc region independent only since 1991, we'll be walking in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Alexander the Great, Marco Polo...
Another fun fact about this country: it's strictly forbidden to import porn on your phone. True story. The same goes for painkillers! Unless it's about sodomy—though the two don’t seem connected, that’s just how it is. Don’t ask me why! Anyway, I’m getting off track. Here’s the big question: Where do you think we’ve just landed?... To give you a hint, the locals are known for being incredibly welcoming. No sooner said than done—our first taxi driver, proud to transport French travelers, refused to let us pay for the ride. Great vibes for these two weeks ahead. So, any guesses?
Uzbekistan!!!
I’m sharing a little recap of this new 4-week trip to China—nothing fancy, just my experience.
We’re taking advantage of the extended visa exemption to return to China for the 4th time. I loved last summer’s trip so much that I’m a bit worried about being disappointed this year. Plus, I’ve had a few hiccups before this departure: my WeChat account got blocked, and I couldn’t recover it (luckily, Alipay still works fine); I couldn’t verify my 12306 account for weeks; Trip.com failed to book our second train; and I’ve got an injury that’ll slow me down during the trip... Ugh, I hate starting a trip with these kinds of issues. Then, oh surprise! Just before leaving, my 12306 account got verified! Super easy to use from that point on—I could book a few train tickets without fees.
We’re sticking with Free’s e-SIMs, which work great in China.
August 2–3
Anyway, on the morning of August 2nd, we took the RER to CDG. As usual, we couldn’t check in online. It’s always a bit frustrating, especially since we didn’t have any checked luggage. We flew with Air China. We arrived at the check-in counter at 9:50 AM, 2 hours and 40 minutes before the flight. The line for our check-in stretched 300 meters across the airport in both directions. What a joke!! We spent 1 hour and 45 minutes in that line just to reach the counter and get our boarding passes. By then, it was 11:35 AM, and boarding had already started at 11:20 AM. The screens showed a 25-minute walk to our gate—on the other side of the airport, of course—plus we had to go through passport control and security... Long story short, the plane didn’t leave without us 🙂 We boarded among the last passengers, and we took off at 12:30 PM. We’d flown Air China four times before, but this time, it felt *really* low-cost. The check-in chaos, the cramped seats (12 seats per row), no music by artists known outside China, mediocre food, and a boarding area at Beijing Airport with only 10 seats—worthy of Ryanair or EasyJet. And yet, the price was sky-high. Again, D.’s vacation requests were denied outside of July and August, so we’re traveling from August 2nd to 30th. We couldn’t have picked a worse time for inflated prices, and with the situation in Iran, we got hit with a 390 € fuel surcharge. I’ve never paid so much for flights—I felt like I’d bought business class, but nope, far from it!!
We landed in Beijing around 4:15 AM. It was 28°C with thick fog. We drove and drove and drove for 20 minutes, as usual in Beijing. Then we went through a first check, a second check, a third check, and waited for our connecting flight at 6:40 AM. A small Airbus A320, but way more space than in the Boeing 777 from the first flight. We landed in Kunming, Yunnan, around 10:15 AM in the rain.
We headed to the subway. You can’t pay at the machines with Alipay here either, so we set up the transport QR code directly in Alipay to scan at the subway gates. The process is a bit long the first time if you haven’t entered your info before, but once it’s done, it’s *so* much easier! We took Line 6 to the terminus for 6 yuan each.
We’d booked a hotel nearby, on the 16th floor. It’s actually studios on different floors of a huge residential building. The view’s pretty nice from here. We settled in quickly—back to those wooden beds, or rather, mattresses as hard as wood, which we *hadn’t* missed...
Then we went out for our first bowl of noodles of the trip and wandered through the shopping streets of the old town.
It was crowded, and the weather was cool—around 19–20°C. We tried a local specialty: milk skin, thick, dried, then grilled with rose jam. Yeah... we won’t be having that again. The taste and texture of the milk skin... no thanks.
We saw a lot of wild mushroom hotpot too. It’s on our list for later. We also passed through the Jinma and Biji gates, where I played with reflections in puddles. I *love* doing that 🙂
At the end of the day, we headed to a temple advertised as open 24/7 on Amap. Of course, when we got there, it was closed. We’ll go back tomorrow. That was the first of many disappointments with Amap this trip—I hadn’t had that issue on previous visits.
We were exhausted after that sleepless flight. Night was falling, and we decided to grab a quick bite without much appetite. We shared a delicious vegetable fried rice for 12 yuan—we even left half of it. The portions are *huge*.
After a couple of small purchases, we headed back at 9 PM, wiped out, after walking 17 km between the airports and these first steps in Kunming. I expected to see quite a few Western travelers here, but we didn’t spot a single one. Instead, we met lots of curious Chinese people, many of them super friendly and helpful—almost *too* eager, like when they’d run to serve us as fast as possible. It’s a bit much, but it’s great to be back!
Hi everyone, I’m Patrick, 67 years old, a seasoned traveler (already 22 trips outside Europe).
In autumn 2025, I took my first 3-week trip to Japan, with stops in Tokyo, Kamakura, Matsumoto, Kamikochi, Takayama, Kanazawa, Kyoto, Nara, Osaka, Koyasan, Tokyo again, and Nikko.
I wanted to go back in May 2026 and explore some lesser-known places to complement my first trip.
Last year, there were four of us traveling together to discover Japan (a fairly classic itinerary). This time, I’ll be traveling solo for part of the trip and with a couple of French friends for the rest.
The weather was gorgeous in May, averaging around 25°C, with two very hot days in Kyoto and only two rainy days.
As usual, I organized everything myself, gathering plenty of information from various sites, including this one.
Transportation:
An ICOCA card is essential.
I got a 5-day Kansai-Hiroshima pass because I took the shinkansen between Hiroshima and Osaka three times, and it paid for itself quickly.
Accommodations:
Mostly through Booking. No issues at all. Average cost was 46 € per night.
Meals:
For breakfast, I alternated between buying food at a konbini to eat in my room or on the train and grabbing something at local cafés.
For lunch and dinner, I tried to vary my meals as much as possible—lots of sashimi, sushi, and ramen.
Okonomiyaki in Osaka and Hiroshima.
Oysters in every form (raw, grilled, fried) in Onomichi and Hiroshima.
A variety of seafood (shrimp, shellfish) in Hiroshima and Matsumoto.
Fish whose names often escaped me, but notably mackerel and eel (unagi).
Tempura and gyoza.
Chicken skewers (yakitori) and one teppanyaki meal.
One omakase meal (9 different dishes).
In the end, not much meat aside from a few yakitori skewers. No splurges on super expensive wagyu or Kobe beef.
Average dinner cost: 4,800 yen, drinks included.
The Itinerary:
Day 1: Departure from Brussels
Day 2: Arrival in Osaka
Day 3: To Himeji, then Kurashiki
Day 4: To Fukuyama, then Tomo no Ura, then Onomichi
Day 5: Cycling the Shimanami Kaido
Day 6: To Takahara, then Hiroshima
Day 7: To Kyoto to attend the Aoi Matsuri parade
Day 8: To Miyajima
Day 9: Hiroshima, then Kyoto
Day 10: Southern Kyoto
Day 11: Northern Kyoto
Day 12: Final day in Kyoto, then to Nagatsugawa
Day 13: Start of the Nakasendo Trail (Magome to Tsumago)
Day 14: Second day of the trail (Kiso Fukushima)
Day 15: Third day of the trail (Narai), then Matsumoto
Day 16: To Mt. Fuji (Kawaguchiko)
Day 17: To Tokyo
Day 18: Excursion to Enoshima and Kamakura
Day 19: Flight home, with a 10-hour layover in Hong Kong
Day 20: Arrival in Brussels
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while.
When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing.
The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
If I close my eyes and think of the Sultanate of Oman, I first smell a light scent of incense, feel the warmth of a sunbeam on my skin, before sand slips through my fingers. I taste the sweetness of a date, a real candy, then the flavor of coffee with a hint of cardamom and rosewater... I hear the desert wind whistling in my ears, the distant call of a muezzin, then the murmur of water. I open my eyes to see smiles, welcoming gestures, a turquoise sea, rocks ranging from ochre to purple, deep wadis where torrents burst forth, orange dunes, white sandy beaches where tiny crabs scurry at full speed. I see incredible oases emerging between arid mountains. I see abandoned villages that I’d dream were full of life, imposing fortresses overlooking valleys, and lively souks where offers are delicate and negotiation is a mutual courtesy.
All that, and so much more.
This is what I tried to capture in my illustrated travel journal, which I’ll fill in here and there with photos.
I drew this journal “cold,” after my return (actually, I made it this summer, while our trip was last winter). It’s a pretty special format—I bought it in Japan without really knowing what I’d do with it. Well, it found its purpose! Below is a photo of this accordion-style journal: here, it’s only partially open, because when fully unfolded, it’s 5 meters long!
For drawing enthusiasts: The accordion format is both a constraint (each sheet is 9 cm x 27 cm) and a freedom (you can create a fresco). The paper is also a bit special: it doesn’t allow for fine lines, but it takes ink well (liner pen). However, everything has to be done almost in one go (with a very light pencil sketch) because it erases poorly. It absorbs too much water for coloring with markers or watercolors (unless you avoid soaking it), but it works well with oil pastels and their use with a brush and solvent. Since it’s yellowish, it allowed me to create contrasts even with white pastel.
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those stunning doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Oman is one of the world’s largest producers of frankincense resin. Incense burners are everywhere, from the simplest clay ones to the most precious handcrafted silver ones...
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a touch of saffron, and occasionally rosewater.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (during the week and daytime; colors are more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you’ll see some men dressed in Western clothes, they’re very few. The white dishdasha is truly the shared attire of all men. The dishdasha, which has no hood, is distinguished by a small pom-pom attached to the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go overboard with it! "It smells like the pom-pom" is an expression that’s now part of our shared language, my husband and I.
Another must of men’s attire is the kuma, a small round head covering, usually white with brightly colored patterns. The keffiyeh is also worn (but without the cord called an agal in Arab countries), and it’s mostly worn by those with roots in the desert, from what I understood.
And what about the women, you might ask? Some are veiled, some in full black (but not a burka—more like a chador + abaya), due to the influence of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, whereas the traditional outfit used to be a layering of very colorful dresses. Most of the women we saw wore neutral clothing, a plain veil over their hair, but with their faces uncovered. We also saw many saris and colorful veils—don’t forget that 40% of the population consists of Indian, Nepalese, and Bangladeshi immigrants, who work a lot in tourism, hospitality, restaurants, services, and construction.
Just to clarify, as a tourist, there’s no pressure to wear a veil, and never any disapproving looks. Of course, you’ll save the mini shorts, plunging necklines, bare shoulders, and midriffs for the hotel terrace—but I’d say that’s the same for men and women, and with the sun being strong, it’s better for your skin too.
Here’s the introduction! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
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.
Hi everyone, we're back from a DIY USA road trip we organized from July 31, 2026, to August 26, 2026.
The destination: The Southwest USA, including Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico. Roughly 7,000 kilometers covered.
The car: A Chevrolet Equinox for two, rented through BSP Auto and Avis. Inside, we had 2 suitcases, a travel bag, two carry-on bags, a Walmart cooler, photo gear, and water bottles (a 40-pack).
The route: Dallas DFW, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Alpine, El Paso, Tucson, Sedona, Albuquerque, Amarillo, and back to Dallas to finish with a departure from DFW.
The travelers: Two seniors well advanced in years (73 and 75) but still active (nothing too physically demanding—to stay alive and fund our trips), fully independent physically, though a bit less so mentally. Big USA fans, a country where anything is possible. More walkers than hikers, preferring 3-star hotels over roadside motels, Italian restaurants over US food, frequent stops for photos, museums over nothing, naps over forced marches. Not too whiny, just enough to stay French in the land of the "great Satan," as they say.
Not great with languages—street English (but handy), and my Spanish is non-existent except for: "Hola! Una cerveza por favor!" That’s about it. My wife understands everything but refuses to speak.
The cost of the road trip: Around 12,000 €, including AF flights, the car, gas, gifts, visits, and everything else. Well managed, since we’d budgeted 13,500 € initially.
The positive side: A delight, with those endless open roads. Museums to discover. The realization of the Hispanic presence and its important history in this part of America. Lovely locals. Tourists who were more or less friendly. A terrible Texan accent that was hard to understand. Gas stations that were like real stores, with prepared food, alcohol sold in Arizona and New Mexico, and employees who were always up for a laugh!
The negative side: The heat throughout the trip... 43°C in Dallas at the end. Impossible to walk the streets. Lots of homeless people in downtown Dallas. Hotel breakfasts that were always the same. You get used to it.
So, it was positive overall, but the concept is starting to wear us out. We might rethink the DIY road trip model for next time. If the man upstairs grants us more time.
Next up, we’ll wait for the first batch of sorted photos to go through the wringer.
Here we go!!!
I left home at 4 AM on October 31st and headed to Barcelona. Driving through Barcelona on the ring road stresses me out a bit, but at 6 AM the traffic is smooth, and I arrive at the airport without any issues. I call the valet, who quickly comes to pick up my car. He takes photos of it from all angles before letting me go.
Baggage check-in hasn’t started yet, and there are already several of us waiting.
Once free, everything happens very quickly. The flight to Abu Dhabi is on time and goes smoothly. I’ve never had any problems with this airline, which I’ve been using for several years.
The flight to Bangkok arrives at 7 AM as scheduled. This is my first time in Thailand and Bangkok. I’m used to traveling in India, and I notice that everything here is well organized—the customs process is quick, and the luggage is already on the carousel.
I booked a taxi on Booking. All I have to do is find the right exit and door based on the agency’s instructions. A large sign with the names of people who booked is posted on a wall. A hostess greets me and calls the taxi, which arrives 5 minutes later. I booked one night at the Lost Inn BKK hotel in the Phra Nakhon district, and we arrive at 9 AM. The welcome isn’t warm, and I have to wait until noon, sitting on a chair, before I can check into my room. I’m exhausted, and sleeping sitting up isn’t ideal. Noon finally arrives—the room is small but clean, which is fine for one night. I quickly take a shower to wake up because I plan to spend the afternoon visiting the Grand Palace. First, I need to exchange some money, and the banks are all close together on the same street, which is very convenient. When I enter one, a hostess gives me a ticket and invites me to sit down. There are about twenty counters, and I wait quietly until my number is called. The exchange is quick, so I can head out to find the Royal Palace. It’s actually very easy, and the walk is pleasant.
Entry to the Royal Palace (500 baht).
It’s magnificent and grand, and there are quite a few of us visiting. The sky is gray, it’s very humid, and a shower interrupts the visit. It’s a vast complex of temples and palaces. The buildings are colorful and sparkling, with a great sense of serenity (without the tourists, of course). I quietly enjoy the place and try to take photos without tourists, which isn’t easy.
Very close to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, one of the oldest Buddhist temples in the capital.
It’s very famous for its 46-meter-long reclining Buddha statue.
Walking around the temple, you can see different representations of Buddha, all covered in gold leaf.
Inside the temple, on one side, monks recite their prayers, while the other side is reserved for tourists who come to meditate in silence.
Before returning to the hotel, I have dinner at an Indian restaurant. I go to bed early because tomorrow’s wake-up call will be very early again.
Saturday, November 2nd
Wake-up at 4 AM, departure from the hotel at 4:30 AM. The taxi I booked via Booking is waiting for me and takes me to the airport. The trip is fairly quick—he takes small roads, and at this hour, there’s no traffic.
The flight to Phnom Penh is on time. Before boarding, I realize I left my fleece jacket on the carousel, but it’s too late to go back for it.
The flight goes well, and customs is quick.
At the exit, I take a tuk-tuk to Julieka’s GH near the museum. The welcome is friendly. I won’t be able to check into my room until noon, so I take the opportunity to exchange some euros on the market street. The street is lined with restaurants, and I’ll have my first meal there.
The museum is right across the street, so I don’t waste any time visiting it.
The representations of Hindu deities are very different from those in India, and I don’t recognize them. Many beautiful Buddhas are on display.
The museum is very pleasant, and there aren’t too many people, which is a plus.
At the exit, I return to the GH, settle into my room—which is decent and clean.
The Royal Palace is 1 km away. I walk along a garden, and at the end of the street is the Tonlé Sap, but I turn right. I arrive at a large esplanade and see the buildings with tiered roofs and glazed tiles. The entrance to the palace is a little further away.
At the entrance, I notice there isn’t the same crowd as at the one in BKK.
Khmer architecture is magnificent. The complex consists of gardens, palaces, pagodas with golden roofs, and slender spires.
The Silver Pagoda houses the small Emerald Buddha, which is actually made of jade. The silver flooring is covered with carpets. Photos are not allowed.
The walls surrounding the pagoda are covered with frescoes depicting scenes from the Ramayana.
"So, my little wanderers, back at the decks? What’s this mystery destination you’ve got in store for us at the start of the year?"
Yes, the schoolyard bell’s ringing again! We’re hitting the road... or rather, the skies! At first glance, our destination might surprise more than a few. First off, simply because I was here exactly twenty years ago, and I don’t usually like retracing my own footsteps. Secondly, because the name of this place screams mass tourism—basically the opposite of what Flo and I look for.
Despite that, in this land of backsheesh, I’d promised myself I’d come back one day to experience it my way. And since Flo told me, during our wanderer chats, that this destination straddling Africa and the Middle East was in her top 2 travel dreams, the stars aligned for this roots-style trip to quickly make it onto our pharaonic festivities program! Unless you’re totally clueless in general knowledge, you’ve probably guessed by now—we’re off to Egypt! Of course, a few classics will be on our itinerary, but above all, we want to soak up a culture that can’t be appreciated in four-star resorts or on a Nile cruise boat. And let’s be clear, these next two weeks won’t be a walk in the park—neither for our two daughters who are joining us, nor for our bodies!
And that’s clear from the get-go: after our first flight, eight hours of trying (and failing) to sleep on Milan airport’s metal seats, our second flight, landing, passport stamps, our Uber ride, and our first Cairo kilometers, we finally drop our exhaustion at the little guesthouse we booked in Giza. Doesn’t all that energy deserve a little reward?
Oh, absolutely! And here it is: a full-on slap in the face for everyone! But just look at this view from our hotel terrace? For 20 € a night for four, even with this incredible view, I figured the room must be pretty shabby, right? Nope... Is the staff rude, then? Nope... Okay, so what’s the catch? You’re gonna tell me breakfast is included too? Well, yes! Honestly, this Egypt trip is off to a great start.
And the rest of the afternoon, spent rubbing shoulders with locals, only confirmed this vibe. After digesting our pyramid view, we dove into the hustle and bustle of our neighborhood with the goal of exchanging money, eating at street stalls, and testing the hospitality of the locals. Ten out of ten!
Eight little sun breads with baba ganoush and falafel? 80 pounds, or 1.5 €. A dozen Middle Eastern pastries? Same! 80 pounds! Two hawawshis, those little pita breads stuffed with meat and spices? 10 pounds each, or about twenty cents! Not to mention all those smiles and free "welcomes" left and right!!!
What a welcome! We end this first day with a sunset over the three sisters of Giza—where we’ll obviously be gawking tomorrow...
My partner and I traveled from Sunday, July 5, 2026, to Wednesday, July 22, 2026.
We spent a long time debating whether to rent a car or use public transportation. In the end, after reading so many posts about travelers getting scammed by police or rental companies—even those recommended by blogs and reviews—we decided to stick with public transport. It worked out really well. Sure, we had a little less freedom to go where we wanted, but it was way less stressful for us.
Sunday, July 5:
Arrived at Cancun Airport. Withdrew cash from the ATM in the terminal just before exiting. The ADO bus counter (they pronounce it "A-Jee-O") is right behind you when you're facing the ATM. Bus to downtown Cancun cost 145 pesos per person.
Stayed at "Rose 5," booked on Booking. The studio was super clean and perfect for one night. The owner’s instructions for accessing the place were very precise, with photos included. Check-in was self-service with a code. The ADO bus terminal isn’t far, and there are shops and restaurants nearby. We really appreciated that the AC was already on when we arrived. By the way, I’d recommend always booking places with AC—it’s *really* hot in Mexico.
Monday, July 6:
Bought a SIM card with data from a TELCEL store. My partner, who’s on Free Mobile, was able to use her regular plan. Just so you know, I found the network pretty unstable. As soon as we left the cities, neither of us—me with TELCEL or her with Free—had any signal.
Another thing to watch out for: roaming charges. I had to turn my SIM back on for less than 30 seconds to get a bank SMS code, and my phone apparently connected to the internet—resulting in an 8-euro roaming fee.
Left on an ADO bus to Chiquila for 278 pesos per person. During our trip, ADO buses were always on time, comfortable, and clean. The AC is *cranked* though, so bring something to cover up with—it gets cold. Some routes were fully booked even in the low season, so try to reserve 1 or 2 days in advance either via the app (when it works) or at the counter.
When we arrived at the ADO terminal in Chiquila, the ferry company counters were right next to it. Ferries leave every 30 minutes, alternating between companies, so no need to book ahead. Just take whichever one is leaving next (330 pesos per person).
When we got to Holbox (pronounced "Hol-bosh"), we’d booked a place via Booking called "Casa de Nana." It was a huge studio with a fridge, cooking plate, and utensils. The best part? The *location*. It was 100 meters from the beach and 200 meters from a Chedraui supermarket. They provided bath towels and beach towels, and the AC worked perfectly. There’s a key box so you can leave your keys inside when you go out. The only downside was that no one was there to let us in when we arrived, so we had to wait a while. The Wi-Fi was good, which was lucky because during our 4-day stay in Holbox, the phone network *never* worked. According to locals, that’s pretty common in Holbox, along with water outages.
Luckily, I’d had the good idea to download an offline map, which helped us find our way back to the place more easily. You can walk there from the dock.
The restaurant next to our place (La Barracuda) was great if you like seafood—I’d recommend their octopus dishes.
Tuesday, July 7:
We did a kayak tour in Holbox’s mangroves at 6 AM. We were looking for a sunrise kayak tour with a French-speaking guide. That’s exactly what we got with "Kayaking Holbox," where Diego, the owner, speaks English and French. He was joined by Gustavo, another guide.
We’d booked for a group tour, but we were the only ones. Diego still went ahead with it instead of canceling due to lack of participants, so we got a private tour at the group rate—really professional of him. They showed us this amazing ecosystem for over 3 hours. We saw all kinds of birds: pink flamingos, pelicans, egrets, frigatebirds... rays, a horseshoe crab, and a little crocodile that was *so* well hidden. Diego and Gustavo have a real eye for spotting animals—I could’ve passed by the crocodile 100 times and never seen it, it blended in so well. Their explanations about the flora and fauna were super interesting. We also got a little break where we tasted mangoes and bananas that taste *nothing* like the ones in France. A real treat—those little Mexican yellow mangoes! I’d definitely recommend Diego and his agency for a French-language kayak tour (1000 pesos per person).
In the evening, we walked to Punta Coco to see the bioluminescence. No need for a guided tour—if you really don’t want to walk, you can take a taxi. At Punta Coco, you have to pass the beach bar/restaurant and then go left into a kind of inlet that forms a lagoon. You have to wiggle your feet or move your hands in the water to create movement, which makes the light appear. Just don’t expect the kind of photos you’ve seen online—they’re all edited! It’s fun to see, but you won’t be dazzled by the light...
Wednesday, July 8:
Whale shark tour with "My Holbox Tours." Why recommend this agency over others for swimming with whale sharks? Simply because Valérie surrounds herself with top professionals to make your experience unforgettable. We were with Captain Fernando, who does everything to position the boat perfectly and make your swim easier. In the water, we were with Humberto, who also goes above and beyond to make sure you have an incredible time. He doesn’t just "supervise" like some guides from other companies who leave you on your own. No, Humberto reads the whale shark’s trajectory and guides you—all you have to do is follow him. He really puts in the effort, even holding your hand to guide you through this quick but intense encounter. Humberto also films the moment and will offer to show you the videos and sell them to you. His footage is really high quality.
Fernando and Humberto also prepared food for us. Special mention for their guacamole! Valérie is there to make sure everything goes smoothly on the boat and to answer your questions in French, English, or Spanish about these animals. If you choose My Holbox Tours, you can be sure you’ll get a top-notch experience.
About the tour itself: before you go, you should know that the sharks can be *really* far away. The day we went, it took 3.5 hours by boat to reach them. The boats are small, and let me tell you—on the way there, when we weren’t going with the waves, it was *rough*. Out of 9 passengers, 4 got seasick. But once you’re face-to-face with the shark, you forget all about that. Even if swimming with a whale shark isn’t exactly a walk in the park—they swim pretty fast, so you need some endurance to keep up. You’ll usually get 2 turns. Our first swim lasted a little over 4 minutes, and the second about 2 minutes because the shark was moving fast and we were still tired from the first swim. It might seem short, but when you’re swimming, it feels *long*. Either way, it’s an experience you *have* to do—but choose your company wisely. On the way back, there’s a stop at Cabo Catoche. Honestly, the snorkeling is pretty disappointing if you’ve done it elsewhere in the world. But the lunch stop at Cabo Catoche is really nice for relaxing (white sand and hammocks).
Thursday, July 9:
Short morning walk to Punta Mosquito at 6 AM. Really nice.
Ferry to Chiquila (330 pesos per person) + ADO bus to Valladolid (300 pesos per person).
In Valladolid, we booked "Casa Lucia" via Booking. The hotel is gorgeous, with a colonial style, and very close to the ADO bus terminal and downtown. It’s super quiet and clean. There’s a shared kitchen you can use with a fridge, microwave, and water dispenser, plus a big table by the pool and a nice indoor terrace. Breakfast was simple but included. The only small downsides were the tiny room and bathroom, no mirror in the room, and a noisy fan.
Friday, July 10:
Not far from the ADO bus terminal is the colectivo station for Chichen Itza. They offer a round-trip to Chichen Itza with an option to stop at Ik Kil cenote on the way back and then drop you off in Valladolid for 370 pesos per person (Ik Kil entrance included).
For the Chichen Itza visit, we’d booked a tour with a guide often mentioned in groups—his name is Juan Pat. He’s a Maya who lives near the site and speaks excellent French. He reserves spots in advance for you and queues up to be the first on-site. It cost 500 pesos per person + entrance fees. His tour lasts 2 hours and focuses mainly on the main pyramid and the ball court. He’s passionate and fascinating, even if some of his claims, as a Maya, might be a little biased. I think it’s *really* important to have a guide—otherwise, you’ll miss so much. You can contact Juan Pat on WhatsApp at +52 985 121 2381.
Afterward, we went to Ik Kil cenote (showers and life jackets mandatory, lockers available). It’s *very* crowded, but still really beautiful with its lush vegetation.
Saturday, July 11:
Since we didn’t have a car but still wanted to visit other cenotes that seemed hard to reach by public transport, we decided to book a taxi for the day. We agreed on 1200 pesos to take us to 3 different cenotes and wait for us at each one. (To find taxis, just look where they park near the ADO bus station.)
He picked us up at Zaci cenote, which we’d walked to. We got there at opening time and were the first ones there—had the place to ourselves for a while! 150 pesos per person. A pretty cenote in the city center with lush vegetation. It’s a bit like Ik Kil but without the deep cylindrical effect.
Cenote Xcanahaltun: the most beautiful cenote we visited. Entry 250 pesos per person. It’s a closed cenote with a hole that lets light in—a cave-like setting. You can kayak inside. There are little fish at the edge that nibble dead skin off your feet. Since it’s closed, the water is *freezing*!
Cenote Palomitas: entry 250 pesos per person. Another stunning closed cenote, even more enclosed than Xcanahaltun. The hole in the ceiling is smaller, so it was pretty dark when we arrived—kind of an eerie vibe. But when the staff turned on the lights, it looked like a "Gothic cathedral" full of bright stalactites.
Cenote Sac Aua: entry 290 pesos per person. The ticket includes a guided cave tour (tip-based). This cenote is really unique with its central island and way less crowded than Suytun. Just so you know, the water is *really* cold in cenotes. In these three, in July, we had the place to ourselves for a while and never saw more than 2 families at once—so peaceful!
Sunday, July 12:
ADO bus to Bacalar (536 pesos per person).
In Bacalar, we stayed via Airbnb with a host named Luli, who offers several rooms with shared bathroom and kitchen.
The room is nicely decorated in a pleasant setting. It’s ideally located near the lagoon and downtown. The shared kitchen is handy. The mosquito net over the bed is useful because there are *a lot* of mosquitoes in Bacalar. Luli provides a water jug, which is really nice. The only big downside is the lack of water pressure in the shower—we had to rinse off by filling a bucket. Also, there’s no real door separating the room from the bathroom. We never met Luli in person, but she was very responsive via messages. The terrace in the middle of the vegetation is lovely.
From the ADO terminal to the place, we took a taxi for 40 pesos. Since this driver was honest about the price (we’d checked beforehand), we decided to use him every time we needed a taxi in Bacalar. Here’s his WhatsApp: +52 983 184 3585.
Monday, July 13:
We did a boat tour on the lagoon with "Bacalar Francophone Activities." Since we were just the two of us, it cost 3500 pesos. If we’d managed to be 4 people, it would’ve been 1000 pesos per person.
We had a private 4-hour tour on the lagoon with Steeve and his very comfortable boat. He’s from Quebec, so his French is perfect. During those 4 hours, Steeve showed us the lagoon’s iconic spots *and* places other boats don’t go. He told us about the lagoon’s history and gave great tips on where to go and where to eat. As a little bonus, he gave us a video taken with his drone during our swimming break.
Tuesday, July 14:
We went to Los Rapidos by taxi (400 pesos round trip) and entry was 225 pesos per person. It’s *very* touristy but really beautiful. You can eat there (expensive), relax, and go down the "rapids" as many times as you want. It’s worth it if you spend a few hours there. You can’t bring in food or drinks—you leave them at the entrance and pick them up on the way out.
Wednesday, July 15:
On Wednesdays, navigation is banned on Bacalar Lagoon, so we’d planned another excursion.
Visit to Calakmul from Bacalar with ABCtours (WhatsApp +52 983 319 8359).
This agency organized a trip from Bacalar to Calakmul with a French-speaking guide. Communication beforehand via WhatsApp was smooth. Mr. Checo, the driver, and Fernando, the guide (who spoke great French), picked us up on the day. Mr. Checo drove very carefully on the long road and always made sure we were comfortable. Fernando is passionate about flora and fauna—he’s a biologist with a degree in ornithology, so he knows *everything* about animals. The slightest sound or song, and he knows what it is. He’s got an eye for spotting them, from the biggest to the smallest.
During the trip, we stopped at km 27 for a short forest walk, then went to see the two main pyramids on the site. On the way back, we stopped at the bat cave for the magical spectacle of millions of bats flying out at dusk. In the end, we saw or glimpsed (some briefly) spider monkeys, howler monkeys, a toucan, 2 tapirs, turkeys, 2 deer, and lots of birds. If, like us, you’re more into flora and fauna than archaeology, I’d *highly* recommend this agency and tour with Fernando.
It’s not cheap, but the road between Bacalar and the site is *long* (3.5 hours). Price: 3900 pesos per person for 2 (3500 for 3, 3200 for 4).
Thursday, July 16:
ADO bus to Playa del Carmen (614 pesos per person).
In Playa del Carmen, we stayed in an Airbnb. The building is on the town hall square, next to the casino.
The best thing about this place is the *location*—super close to Fifth Avenue (La Quinta). The kitchen is pretty basic, but the fridge works well. There are supermarkets nearby. The rooftop pool is really nice. The two big downsides, though, are the soundproofing (you can *hear* the neighbor’s alarm and all the events on the square) and the *total* lack of water pressure in the shower. We had to fill a trash can with water to pour over ourselves. When we told the owner, he said it wasn’t normal and someone would come fix it, but we never heard back. Based on previous reviews, this seems to be a known issue that never gets resolved.
Playa del Carmen is *very* touristy on Fifth Avenue, but in a fun, musical vibe—we never felt unsafe. There are *tons* of little souvenir shops for tourists on this street. There’s a beautiful monumental sculpture on the beach (the two figures meeting in the air), next to which you can see the Voladores show (men climbing a pole, tying themselves with ropes, and descending headfirst while "flying" around the pole). The show is tip-based and happens several times a day. In our opinion, Calle 38 is prettier than Fifth Avenue—it’s lush, green, and quieter, with the sea at the end. Great for an early evening stroll. We had really good meals at great prices at "El Tio Noy" tacos, just a few meters from Fifth Avenue in a side street.
For souvenirs, we’d recommend going to Walmart instead of Fifth Avenue—you’ll find skulls, tequila, mezcal, keychains, mugs, glasses... at good, fixed prices.
Friday, July 17:
We did the excursion to Isla Contoy. Isla Contoy is an uninhabited, highly protected island. Only 200 people are allowed to land per day on a rotating basis, so only a few companies have permission to dock there. Most agencies subcontract the day to a third-party company.
We booked through VRM (Viviendo Riviera Maya), but it was Ocean Tours Mexico that handled the tour. Contoy is a little paradise. We were accompanied by multilingual guides, including French speakers, throughout the day. Steffy gave us info about the island during a short walk on the marked trails, and Leño Tlatemoa kept the mood up on the boat rides with music and dancing. Isla Contoy is *truly* stunning, and the lunch was delicious: grilled fish and chicken, guacamole and tortilla chips, rice, fruit, drinks (everything is brought and taken back by the guides). The snorkeling part was pretty disappointing if you’ve done it in Cozumel, though. The stop at Isla Mujeres isn’t very interesting either—it’s too short to explore, and the island is *extremely* touristy. Still, the excursion was very well organized, and we had a great day (2970 pesos per person).
Saturday, July 18:
We wanted to go snorkeling in Cozumel but thought the prices from French-speaking agencies were too high. Plus, for snorkeling, we figured we didn’t *need* a French-speaking guide.
So we found a much cheaper solution by taking the ferry from Playa del Carmen ourselves and choosing an agency in Playa. The round-trip ferry cost 663.50 pesos per person. Then we took a taxi to the snorkeling boat (100 pesos). The agency we chose is called Mystic Snorkel—they don’t have a physical office. The tour cost 1400 pesos per person. It was a small boat, but that day we were the only ones, so we got a private tour at the group rate. We stopped at 4 different sites, all very different and beautiful. We saw all kinds of fish, corals, a nurse shark, and turtles. El Cielo, with its huge starfish, is *exceptional*. If you’re going snorkeling in the Yucatan Peninsula, this is *the* tour to do—the other sites are pretty "poor" in comparison.
Sunday, July 19:
Morning dive with Triton Diving. I chose the Cozumel dive option. Great experience.
Booking via WhatsApp was easy. On the day of the dive, Selene, who speaks French, was our guide. She’s *very* attentive to the group’s safety. The briefings are clear and precise. In Cozumel, we did 2 very different sites: the first was a drift dive with lots of life—beautiful corals and fish. The second was a wreck, the C53, a 56-meter boat you can enter. Not much marine life, but a beautiful wreck intentionally sunk for divers—still in great condition. An unforgettable moment. Selene even took videos during the dive, which the club sends you for free afterward. I’d *highly* recommend this club.
Just so you know, in Playa del Carmen, the beaches were full of sargassum during our stay, despite barriers and daily cleanup. Locals told us the problem is getting worse and the sargassum is arriving earlier in the season. Tourism has taken a *big* hit this summer, and they’re wondering if tourism can even survive the sargassum season anymore. A lot of tourists are heading to the islands—Isla Mujeres and Cozumel—to enjoy the beaches, as the west side of those islands is sargassum-free.
Monday, July 20:
Colectivo to Puerto Morelos. First, a colectivo toward Cancun that drops you off between Puerto Morelos town and Puerto Morelos beach (40 pesos per person), then another from that junction to the beach (10 pesos per person).
In Puerto Morelos, we’d booked a room via Airbnb at "Piedra del Caribe." *Best* place we stayed in Mexico. It’s an aparthotel. Our room was ready before check-in, so they let us in early. The place matched the description—spacious, with a comfortable king-size bed. The shower had *great* pressure, which isn’t a given in Mexico. The staff was super friendly and welcoming. They let us use the pool, restrooms, and rooftop shower after check-out while we waited for our ride to Cancun Airport. They even kept our luggage. I *highly* recommend this place.
In Puerto Morelos, there was *way* less sargassum than in Playa del Carmen—it was actually swimmable.
We did the snorkeling tour with the fishermen’s cooperative for 450 pesos per person for 2 hours. The reef is close to the beach (you’re not allowed to swim there), so the boat ride is short. It’s not as pretty as Cozumel, but it’s nice and affordable. On Puerto Morelos’s page, you can also access a small, not-very-well-preserved reef. There’s also a cenote in the sea where fresh water mixes with saltwater—the water is murky there. We had a great dinner and excellent cocktails at "La Choza del Puerto."
Tuesday, July 21:
Wandered around Puerto Morelos (check out the church and read everything—it’s entertaining!), relaxed by the hotel pool, and left for Cancun Airport by taxi (400 pesos) booked via InDrive to head back to France.
Our highlights:
- Holbox
- The whale shark tour
- The cenotes
- The local flora and fauna (so present!)
- Isla Contoy
- Cabo Catoche (except for the snorkeling)
What we liked least:
- The bioluminescence (barely visible despite good conditions)
- The food—we found it not very diverse in taquerias
- The constant tipping
- The lack of water pressure in showers (fixed, wall-mounted, no hose or showerhead)
Don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions while it’s still fresh in our minds.
Traveling with just one spare pair of underwear, considering a hot shower a miracle, never staying in the same place too long by sleeping wherever night catches us, taking whatever local, improbable, and rickety transport we can find—this is the DNA of us wanderers. Except this time, the script for our movie is going to be a whole different genre. On paper, the destination doesn’t exactly scream epic adventure: Réunion! And what’s more... we won’t be two, or four, or even ten. We’ll be a solid thirty. All from the same family. Yes, thirty. At this point, it’s not just a trip—it’s a summer camp on the move! Why inflict this on such a peaceful island? Because my brother decided to get married there with his lovely bride. A great idea, you might say... especially when it involves relocating the equivalent of a small Ardennes village 10,000 kilometers from home for three weeks! So who’s stepping up to be the guide and wave the little flag?
So, for an exceptional trip, exceptional stories! Don’t worry, the debates at the supermarket over whether to choose plain chips or roast chicken chips, the beach picnics washed down with ti’ punch, and other rougail sausages to digest by the pool will only make it into the family archives. Here, I’ll stick to the tales of our beautiful escapes, the ones where we explore the wild corners of this little volcanic rock planted in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So where exactly are we headed?
For the first week—the subject of this first installment—we’re taking it easy. We’ll start by rediscovering the coastline, from the Souffleur in Saint-Leu to the Hermitage lagoon, before a little trip to the Cirque de Cilaos and its legendary road with 400 turns, just to get our legs warmed up.
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style.
All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of three years at most in Thailand, and I’m not a big expert on the country.
However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to piece together a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who miss it.
I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.
I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guards for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course.
Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious.
Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big property, be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t really made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons.
That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though, are much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been broken for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the side of the road, sometimes right on the road. When you arrive, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, which reminds visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. Seeing a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you might think it’s best not to cross paths with them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at temples on the brink of death, enduring terrible suffering. No one did anything about it. The image (and the smell) of one of them, dying and emitting the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The well-fed animal quickly became a happy, enormous beast with its own garden. Yet, it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water in them for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not a gimmick—it’s just that these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
It was winter, a winter with beautiful weather,
A season that only exists in the southwest of America,
I remember very well what I told you that morning
A month ago... A century ago, an eternity ago...
We’ll go... wherever you want, whenever you want...
Well, yeah, back from our adventure in our enchanting American West just a month ago, we’re already taking a bite out of one of its lesser-known competitors. "Flo, if you had to pick just one reason to justify your love for the U.S., what would it be?" The greasy, dripping burgers? No, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by saying it’d be the wide-open spaces... And that’s exactly what our new quest is taking us to—a land on the other side of the globe where the horizon also seems endless, where silence tastes like salty wind and sand, where freedom is measured in kilometers of desert tracks, where the GPS is mostly there to confirm you’re lost in the middle of nowhere... Add to that magic formula the fact that you’ll see more zebras, giraffes, wildebeest, and elephants than people per square kilometer, and you can imagine us setting foot in Southern Africa for the first time, more precisely at the small airport in Windhoek, capital of... of...? Brush up on your geography, damn it! We’re landing in Namibia!!!
To be honest, Namibian landscapes have been flirting with me for ages. So how did I resist this island of temptation for so long? First, the budget. Let’s just say that for the same amount of effort (and kidneys), the bank lets you choose two other adventures almost anywhere else on the planet. Then there were my girls. Yeah, back then, they were too little to dose up on Malarone, the only malaria remedy at the time... Long story short, ten years later, all the planets have aligned. First, I won the Euromillions! Well, almost... Let’s just say my girls are now old enough... not to take Malarone, but to stop following me on all my adventures! Jackpot! "Flo, how about a little two-person caprice, just the two of us, tackling the Namibian tracks?"
As we landed on the runway, first wow effect: The horizon is immense. It’s flat as can be, incredibly flat... So much flat space! Did I mention it was flat?... Looking into the distance, it feels like your gaze could circle the Earth without hitting a single obstacle—until you end up staring at your own backside. "Oh, what a nice view!" Well, it’s the first time I’ve seen my butt from this angle! Touching moment... Sorry, I’m rambling—must be the exhaustion from the three-flight marathon we just powered through via Ethiopia and South Africa... And yet, no time to philosophize about my anatomy. As usual, we want to rack up our first kilometers to be front and center at dawn tomorrow. After wrapping up the tedious Namibian immigration formalities and meeting the 4x4 that’ll be our companion day and night for the next fifteen days, we’re off! We’re not exactly fresh, but we’re ready to tackle the next five hundred kilometers in night mode, cruise control set due south! Just outside Windhoek, the local wildlife—a jackal—welcomes us with a smile: "Welcome to Namibia!" That’s what it said! Honest... Okay, first endless straight road, first flaming sunset, first corrugated dirt track, first Milky Way with zero light pollution... You get it—it’s definitely the day of firsts... First night camping, too, in the big trunk of our Toyota Fortuner parked by the side of the track... The real adventure, the kind that smells under the arms, can finally begin...
Here we go—finally, the big day has arrived! A trip the whole family (my two kids, my husband, and me) had been looking forward to for so long.
To keep it short, we left from Nice, arrived in Namibia on June 25, 2025, and left again on the 21st—four weeks later.
We used an agency for all the camping reservations, activities, and the car rental. At least that side of things was taken care of. Michaël was our contact throughout the planning and the trip itself.
We spent our first night at Londiningi BB. A bit out of the city center but very quiet. The rooms were spacious and clean, and we could eat on-site that evening. Perfect for recovering from the flight.
This travel journal is our second on VoyageForum, following last year’s where we recounted our four weeks in Vietnam.
The goal remains the same: since some members on this site share tips, experiences, and great deals that help us prepare for our trips, we do the same after returning—both to give back a little and in the hope that our experiences might be useful to others in some way.
Our route was as follows: Bangkok, Siem Reap, Krabi, Suratthani, Koh Phangan, Koh Tao, Chumphon, Bang Saphan, Prachuab Khiri Khan, Sam Roi Yod, Hua Hin, Phetchaburi, Bangkok.
Beyond rediscovering Bangkok, our objectives were the long-held dream of seeing Angkor and exploring southern Thailand, much of which isn’t overly touristy.
A quick big thank-you to Barbot, who took the time to answer several of our questions.
12/07/2013
The cheapest flight we found earlier this year was a Paris-Bangkok route with a layover in Moscow for 1440 €, total for two people.
So, this time we tried Aeroflot. Airbus A318 for the first leg, A330 for the second. Nothing particularly annoying to report—the passengers were very calm, the cabin temperature was comfortable, and we had enough legroom.
That said, the quality of the meal trays was pretty mediocre, and the flight attendants weren’t exactly comedians.
We’d like to remind everyone that it’s best to exchange as little money as possible at the airport upon arrival, since the rate is about 5% worse than at city banks.
Of course, we made sure to take the airport exit where you can catch official taxis to avoid getting scammed. So, we queued up, a little lady gave us the ticket, and off we went with the driver.
Generally, this system works well because these drivers are registered, know their duties, and the risks they face if they break the rules. Except that day, right off the bat, we got the scammer of the day. His first move was to snatch the ticket from my wife’s hands—the one you’re supposed to keep in case of a complaint. My husband saw it, but after a full day of travel, we were a bit out of it, and honestly, there was no reason to be suspicious. But once we started driving, the guy refused to turn on the meter. We insisted more and more firmly, but nothing. So, I used the famous method of opening the door and starting to step out of the car. At 40 km/h, that scares the driver more than the passenger. He finally turned on the meter, but that didn’t calm him down—quite the opposite. For the next half-hour, he ruined the ride by demanding extra fees here and there. Having dealt with several scam attempts last year in Vietnam, this wasn’t exactly new, and we were proud of ourselves for staying pretty zen. Still, this guy was a little scary—he was completely wired and aggressive. Honestly, it was hard not to think he was on something. He’d be perfect for a *Scarface* remake. When we finally arrived at the hotel, he followed us to the entrance. We paid the two tolls (25 and 45 baht), gave him the usual 100 baht extra for the ride, and stayed polite but firm. So, meter: 245 baht + 100 baht + 25 and 45 baht for tolls—we paid the exact amount, no way we were tipping this guy. He left furious, but he was already like that before picking us up... Anyway, avoid Mr. Chartree Chidchen, number 089 826 7308, car E2663!
We were so relieved to finally settle in at Feung Nakorn Balcony hotel in the temple district. 42 € per night, great reception, all the staff is friendly. The AC works fine, the bed seemed hard at first but turned out to be comfortable. The hotel is quiet, away from the nightlife, but at this time of year, many places are less crowded than in high season. Even with a nice fish pond and outdoor breakfast area, it’s a decent hotel, though we felt we could’ve found something better.
After a night on the plane, the first afternoon is always a bit of a slog. We napped for a few hours, and when we woke up—guess what—we were starving. We visited a temple across from the hotel (nothing special) and then decided to take the Chao Phraya Express, the river shuttle that serves many piers along the river. It was a really enjoyable experience. The steel gangway wobbles when you board and disembark, the boat sits low in the water, and sometimes you get splashed. During peak times, you’re packed in like sardines, but most of all, there’s that exotic urban landscape passing by, especially the temple rooftops.
At that exact moment, the boat was packed. We didn’t see a ticket booth at the pier, and we tried in vain to pay the few baht for the ride. The cashier on the boat was too busy, and another employee we called didn’t have time to help us. Oh well, we weren’t going to force the issue. Still, this mode of transport is super practical for avoiding traffic, and at the piers, the lines with station names are clearly marked, with colors matching the flags on the boats. Combined with a map like the *Routard* guide, it’s easy to navigate.
We easily made it to the restaurant *Harmonique*, located near one of these piers. It’s a unanimous favorite on this forum, and let us tell you—it’s well-deserved. What a wonderful experience that evening! We only saw the outdoor gazebo because there was no way we were dining inside. It’s not flashy, so those looking for a luxurious setting should look elsewhere.
That night, the staff was a bit slow, and we had to track them down several times to move things along. But oh, my friends—what a feast on the plate! Start with the appetizer platter for two at 250 baht, featuring four specialties, each more tempting than the last, followed by their famous crab curry for 200 baht. There’s *so much* crab in there! The dish is so delicious and rich that when you finish, you feel—how to put it—like it was almost *too* good, to the point where you’re almost put off eating for days. And also, oh yes, we *will* be back. Their satay chicken is just as amazing, and it would be a crime not to mention their generous dessert with ice cream, warm banana, and chocolate, plus their *excellent* almond milkshake.
Later, we took a taxi to Kao San Road, mainly to book a Ko Tao-Chumphon trip for 600 baht per person at the Lomprayah counter. In hindsight, we should’ve booked all three of our trips there right away.
Kao San Road is *ultra*-touristy—better for younger crowds, but it’s still worth seeing. There’s rock ‘n’ roll, hippies, and crowds everywhere.
We walked back to the hotel, and when we got a little lost near a canal, a really nice older Thai man spontaneously appeared out of the night to kindly point us in the right direction.
Finally, a real long night of sleep ahead—we cranked up the AC. Sweet, the vacation has begun!
Hi there,
I just got back from a trip to Sri Lanka from December 18th to January 1st with 2 adults and 2 kids (12 years old).
If it helps, here’s my itinerary.
We left on December 18th from Madrid with Qatar Airways. No complaints. I booked my tickets back in March for 800 € per person. (I flew from Madrid because I live near the Spanish border and was too worried about strikes in France.)
We arrived on December 19th at 4 PM (local time). Before leaving France, I’d booked a taxi through MyTransfer for 59 € to Sigiriya. A van was waiting for us at the airport exit.
A never-ending 3-hour drive to Sigiriya. We stayed at Samana Guesthouse—very simple, clean, with a pool and an excellent Sri Lankan breakfast. Shower and straight to bed.
Friday, December 20th: Beautiful weather, but very humid and hot. We visited Lion Rock (36 € for adults) and then Pidurangala.
I loved both sites—they’re a must-do in my opinion.
Spent the late afternoon by the pool.
Saturday, December 21st: Another gorgeous day. The guesthouse manager offered us a free 2-hour tuk-tuk tour. We first visited a lake, rice fields, the temple, and the Sigiriya market, plus the usual tourist trap—the botanical garden (no pressure to buy anything at the end).
Then we took a tuk-tuk to Dambulla Temple, the Golden Buddha, and the wholesale market.
Sunday, December 22nd: Still beautiful weather. I’d booked a taxi for 8 AM. We did all the long trips by taxi to save time. I’d ask for prices from 2 or 3 WhatsApp taxi agencies 2 days or the day before—super responsive, always got replies within 5 minutes. We headed to Ella (4-hour drive) for 22,000 LKR.
Arrived in the afternoon at Rest Full Homestay—a small, family-run guesthouse. Clean, cozy, and an amazing Sri Lankan breakfast.
In the afternoon, we went to Nine Arches Bridge. It was a Sunday, a Sri Lankan holiday, so it was *packed*—mostly locals and very few white tourists! Even though it was crowded, it was cool because it was all Sri Lankans. We waited an hour for the train. It’s worth seeing, but honestly, I didn’t think it was that amazing.
Then we headed to the station to check if we needed to book tickets for the train to Haputale—turns out, no.
Monday, December 23rd: Beautiful weather. We hiked Ella Rock—a gorgeous trek. The final stretch is steep but shaded, so it wasn’t as tough as I’d read. The whole hike is stunning from start to finish. We saw the train pass twice (one blue, one red) and lots of women picking tea.
After that, we did Little Adam’s Peak. It’s not hard, but it was *packed* with tourists—meh. Luckily, at the top, you can walk a bit farther (down one side and back up) to get some space to yourself.
What I *didn’t* like was the commercial vibe at the big café/restaurant with a pool at the entrance of Little Adam’s Peak. Loud music, all that money being made right next to little souvenir stands run by Sri Lankans or tea-picking women. Felt off.
Ended the day buying souvenirs at one of the few shops we found during the trip.
Tuesday, December 24th: Beautiful weather. Took the train to Haputale. We got to the station 30 minutes before the 9:30 AM train. We could’ve taken 2nd or 3rd class—I went with 2nd (160 LKR per person).
It was crowded, but we managed to get seats—first 2, then 3. Only a 1-hour ride, but I *loved* it—windows and doors open the whole time.
Arrived in Haputale around 11 AM, and the mist was already rolling in.
We walked to our guesthouse, The Mist Holiday Bungalow. Simple but clean, with a great view of the tea plantations. The owner’s wife is Vietnamese and used to work for French tour operators, so her French is still pretty good—helpful for us since our English is terrible. They booked us a tuk-tuk for 4:45 AM the next day (2,000 LKR) to Lipton’s Seat.
Spent the afternoon wandering around Haputale. Not much charm, but there’s a nice fruit and veggie market and a short walk through the tea plantations.
Wednesday, December 25th: Beautiful weather. The tuk-tuk was on time to take us to Lipton’s Seat. We were the first ones there—the sky was just starting to turn pink. In the end, only about ten of us watched the sunrise. The guesthouse had packed us breakfast, and we walked back down (half on the road, half through the plantations). Didn’t see any tea picking since it was Christmas, but the walk was still incredible. We took detours through villages full of kids.
After that, we visited the tea factory. The tour was really interesting, and we took the bus back down to Haputale. Such a great moment—whole families were heading to mass, dressed up and made up. All so beautiful.
At noon, we left for Udawalawe National Park. Taxi for 14,000 LKR. Stayed at River Inn Safari Cottage. *Warning*: It’s the same place as Eagle Safari Cottage. I don’t recommend it. We’d always stayed with families before, but here it was just staff—totally different vibe. The pool was nice but not very clean (water was murky). The bungalow was big and fine, but it was brand new—so new the asphalt floor wasn’t fully dry. It’s in the middle of nowhere, so we had to eat on-site. Couldn’t leave a review on Booking because they never confirmed we’d stayed, and they canceled our reservation the next day.
Thursday, December 26th: Beautiful weather. I’d booked a safari through the hotel for 5:30–10 AM for 54 USD. Honestly, yes, there are a lot of jeeps, but it was great. The kids loved it—we saw everything there was to see.
Left by taxi at 11:30 AM for Welligama (12,000 LKR).
We didn’t stay in Welligama city but at Coconut Beach, between Welligama and Midigama. *Total crush* on the guesthouse: Sky Mountain Café with View. Such a lovely family. The mom makes amazing meals at reasonable prices. The view from the hill over the sea is unreal.
Spent the afternoon walking along the beach.
Friday, December 27th: Beautiful weather. My kids are surfers. Unfortunately, there weren’t any boards their size to rent at Coconut, so we took a tuk-tuk to Welligama Bay (1,000 LKR). They surfed from 8 AM to 5 PM—rental was 5,000 LKR for the day. Meanwhile, we walked the beach and swam. Water was 29°C.
Saturday, December 28th: Beautiful weather, rain from 4 PM until midnight. Same surf day. They were so well-behaved the whole trip, so this was their reward.
Sunday, December 29th: Beautiful weather. Beach day at Coconut. *Warning*: It’s a reef break. For surfers, there are three spots (Coconut Left, Middle, and Right). The boys bodysurfed (with fins) all morning, and at 1 PM, we took the bus to Hikkaduwa.
Stayed at Hotel Universal Beach. Nothing special—right on the water, but the rooms were dark even though they were clean. The manager was super nice, but the rest was meh, and breakfast was mediocre compared to what we’d had before (2 eggs and 3 slices of toast). Plus, it was late—8 AM.
First impression of Hikkaduwa wasn’t great—way too many Russians for our taste.
Monday, December 30th: Beautiful weather. Spent the whole day exploring. Turtle Beach, then the other side of the beach (toward Galle) near the fishing port. The beach there is much wider, with scattered hotels and super quiet. It’s beautiful—I should’ve booked somewhere in that area. Ended up having a great day away from the crowds.
Tuesday, December 31st: Overcast, then beautiful, rain at 4 PM. Had to end the year (and the trip) with some surf. Rented boards for the kids (3,000 LKR per board for the day). Bad luck—the waves were on a reef break but small. Not great for them, but no big deal. They still got out of the water by 2 PM. Walked the beach (which is gorgeous), had a juice, and went for a swim. Then back to surfing in the rain at 4 PM.
Wednesday, January 1st: Left by taxi at 5 AM (18,000 LKR). Flight at 10 AM. Arrived in Madrid at 8 PM.
I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).
So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!
We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice.
For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.
We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.
Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).
Day 1 – Paris to Lima
Foreword
I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.
Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).
Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.
As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.
Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.
Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
We did the Langtang trek (hike) from September 10th to 17th, with the first and last days being the trip from Kathmandu and back—so 6 days of actual walking. It’s a fairly well-known trek but certainly not as famous or crowded as those in the Annapurna or Everest regions, which is why we chose it.
In theory, it’s mandatory to have a guide for this trek. In reality, it seems there are ways to bypass the regulations: we met at least two people hiking without a guide—a South Korean, a New Zealander, and possibly also a couple of English women and an American couple, though we’re not sure if they had a guide.
The agency we booked with had told us it was an affordable trek for relatively older people in good shape—which is our case (I’m 72 myself). I have to say upfront that we found it quite challenging, maybe because we didn’t have good weather—it was the end of the monsoon season. To be clear, no matter your fitness level, I’d say doing this trek in the middle of the monsoon season would be suicidal.
Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi
On Monday, September 8th, there had been violent protests in Kathmandu against the government, which had, among other things, blocked access to social media and been accused of nepotism and corruption. There were 19 deaths. The situation was very tense on the day of our departure, Wednesday the 10th. The agency warned us that public transport was very unreliable. So, we decided to take a jeep, at an additional cost of $100 ($160 minus what was already budgeted for the bus).
We left a little before 7 a.m. and it took us a good hour just to reach the outskirts of Kathmandu. Along the way, we saw several houses and vehicles set on fire by protesters.
The road to Syapru Besi is only 120 km, but it’s frankly awful. It’s always narrow, winds through endless mountains, and the shoulders range from bad to confusing to nonexistent. Several sections are just dirt tracks. We didn’t regret opting for the jeep, as we could stop several times at our convenience—if only to let Y (my Thai partner) throw up everything she had. She’d taken her usual motion sickness medication, but the constant turns, accelerations, and braking eventually made her terribly carsick.
In Nuwakot, we stopped for breakfast at a nice little restaurant, Jimbu. It was around 8:30 a.m., and we’d barely covered 60 km. The restaurant has a lovely garden overlooking the Trishuli Ganga, the river flowing down from Syapru Besi. First photo: the river in the bottom right corner, mist and clouds over the mountain on the other side.
An hour later, my second photo: the hills along the Trishuli Ganga. You can see the different crops—lush green rice paddies in the lower right and corn, already yellowed and likely harvested, in the foreground on the left. And of course, the mist and clouds through which you can glimpse the mountain on the other side of the river.
When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”
This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...
Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.
Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!
La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.
Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.
Some practical info:
- The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side.
- We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €.
- The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen.
- Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day.
- Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.
Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Our first stop was just a few kilometers from Marrakech, at a lovely house perfect for relaxing and recharging before continuing. It’s called Bleu House, a little paradise on the outskirts of Marrakech. The welcome was very warm, with a beautiful pool and a lovely garden.
Next, we headed toward the Tichka Pass. The road has really improved in recent years—it’s much easier to drive now. No more getting stuck behind trucks, and today, the construction is practically finished.
Morocco has turned green after the recent rains. It’s a joy for the herds and shepherds.
I hesitated about writing this travel journal...
This summer, we only did the classics (the 3 northern parks and Zanzibar) and let a local agency take care of everything from start to finish.
No craziness, no risks, no sleeping under the stars, no self-drive, no venturing off the beaten path, no incidents, and not even any delays in the pre-planned itinerary...
But don’t think we were disappointed!
The whole family (there were 6 of us) came back with smiles and memories of great moments spent together.
So, if you're looking for a "classic" way to discover Tanzania, this is the place to be.
Our 2-week itinerary:
- Arusha (1 night upon arrival)
- Tarangire (1 night)
- Ngorongoro (2 nights in Karatu then Irmisigiyo)
- Serengeti (3 nights in Robanda, Togoro Plains, and Seronera)
- Zanzibar Stone Town (1 night)
- Zanzibar Matemwe (3 nights)
- Zanzibar Jambiani (3 nights)
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions...
So, now that I've just finished my Japan travel journal here, I figured it was high time to honor this destination we came back from so enchanted.
Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some!
Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!
I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to include fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to take her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can slip away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!
Anyway, since I love maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red); we only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband’s newly retired, I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.
In broad strokes, it was very classic:
First, we “settled in” at Luang Prabang (8 days), because we wanted and needed to.
From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we know, distances aren’t just about km!
Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4,000 Islands while stopping by the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites.
We wrapped up with the Bolaven Plateau.
A few practical notes: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having picked up our luggage in Bangkok to check it in for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized.
We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. Quick, but to be fair, we were on a “small” plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too crowded in line!
At the end of our trip, we didn’t fly out of Paksé but from the nearby airport in Thailand, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), then Bangkok and Paris.
You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the (Chinese) train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!
With that intro out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter.
To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang
It’s an ancient city that breathes, a living spring.
Here, no kitschy signs like “I miss you in Fengyu,” nor mass-produced fake antiques.
The century-old houses still bear the marks of wind and rain; in the morning, you hear roosters crowing, and at dusk, smoke gently rises from the kitchens.
This city doesn’t try to please anyone—like the spring water flowing through it, it simply keeps living at its own pace.
Located in Eryuan County, in the Dali Prefecture of Yunnan, the ancient town of Fengyu is a nationally designated historical and cultural city. It’s nicknamed the “land of scholars and ink”—during the Qing Dynasty, the Fengxiang Academy produced four *jinshi* and eleven *juren* in the imperial examinations. The Bai families made studying and farming a true legacy. Even on market days, you’ll find stalls of calligraphy and paintings, while lintels and screen walls are covered with family mottos.
Fengyu was also an important stop on the ancient Tea Horse Road. It preserves the second-largest Bai architectural complex in China, just after Xizhou. The famous traveler Xu Xiake spent seven days here and compared it to the “peach blossom paradise.”
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area).
In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
The latest travel journal about Turkmenistan dates back to 2019. Here’s a quick update on this vast desert country, which is now a bit easier to visit than before.
This is my first travel journal. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. The country is slowly opening up, but it’s still possible to visit sites where you’ll be completely alone. In five days, I saw two Hongkongers, a few Germans, and a Chilean at the crater, ten Chinese people in a capital bazaar, and that’s it!
It’s possible to visit Turkmenistan from Uzbekistan. The easiest and most economical way is to take a taxi to the border from Bukhara. The trip takes a little over an hour.
Crossing the border takes quite a while because many Turkmen bring back items bought in Uzbekistan to resell in Turkmenistan. For example, diapers, baby products, or beauty products.
It took me over 2.5 hours to cross the border. To visit Turkmenistan, it’s mandatory to have a guide and go through a travel agency. British agencies often offer three-, five-, or seven-day trips for over 1,500 or 2,000 €.
But if your budget is more limited, you can contact a few Turkmen agencies directly by email, and they’ll make you an offer between 700 and 1,300 € for three to seven days. I took a five-day trip from Turkmenabat in the northeast of the country to Dashoguz in the north. The goal was to visit the main UNESCO-listed sites, including Merv, and archaeological sites like Nisa or Gonur Tepe.
Your guide will also be your driver. They’ll pick you up at the border. The formalities are very long because customs officers have to stamp multiple documents, and obtaining the visa you previously requested from your travel agency requires several checks. But the process goes relatively smoothly, even if each step takes a while.
Once on the other side, the first surprise is the brand-new highway all the way to Turkmenabat. A very long line of trucks stretches for several kilometers on the Turkmen side to cross the border into Uzbekistan. According to my guide, Turkmen trucks transport gas and cotton (though not this season, since the harvest is in September), but they mainly fill up their tanks because fuel is much cheaper in Turkmenistan. A full tank for a car costs about 3 €, which is unbeatable.
From the Farap border post, the goal is to reach the city of Mary, which is home to the UNESCO-listed site of Merv in its suburbs, about thirty kilometers away. This city is known as a foundation by Alexander the Great in the 4th century BC under the name Alexandria of Margiana. Several fortresses are visible.
After more than three hours on the road, we have lunch at a Turkish restaurant called Aladdin. Several quotes from the president are visible along the highway, but the road is in good condition, and we move along easily. This will be by far the best road in the country—things will get much worse later.
Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.
Preamble:
Africa was calling to me, so a year ago, with our usual travel companions, we decided to return to the continent we love so much.
Where to go?
Uganda quickly caught our attention—wildlife we’re used to seeing, plus gorillas and the shoebill we missed in Zambia.
We got in touch with Paul, who’s been mentioned several times on the forum back in September, booked our flight tickets, secured the gorilla permits, and by early October, the most important things were done.
We still had plenty of time to hold our "prep meetings" for the final itinerary.
Three days before departure, I sprained my ankle (my weak spot, as you’ll recall from our Colombia trip).
I wasn’t in great spirits, but after a year of waiting, nothing was going to stop me.
We’d see how it goes!
Off we went for our new adventures
If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!
Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with:
Zero preparation.
Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.
Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?
The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!
The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.
So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!
So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!
It often happens that we're asked what to visit in Belgium.
And the answers usually point to Bruges, Ghent, Antwerp, and Brussels—and rightly so, as these cities are well worth visiting ;).
However, Belgium, though small, isn’t just limited to these four cities.
I live in one of them (Brussels), enjoy spending time in the other three, but I’d like to highlight some lesser-known spots that could add to the trip for those who want to see a bit more or something different.
Between trips, I like exploring one or two corners of the country where I live.
Hence the idea for a travel journal of walks.
Most of the places I’ll talk about can be visited as a day trip from Brussels, whether by public transport or car.
In chronological order of the topics covered:
- The Gileppe Dam (Liège province) - message 2, page 1
- The Domaine de La Hulpe (Walloon Brabant) - message 3, page 1
- Mechelen (Antwerp province) - message 4, page 1
- The coast - message 5, page 1
- The Westhoek, from De Panne - message 6, page 1
- The Zwin, from Knokke - message 7, page 1
- Lier (between Mechelen and Antwerp) - message 8, page 1
- Mons (Hainaut) - message 9, page 1
- The Florenville region - message 12, page 1
- The East Cantons - message 13, page 1
- Dinant - message 18, page 1
- The Japanese garden in Hasselt - message 24, page 2
- Leuven - message 29, page 2
- Louvain-la-Neuve - message 32, page 2
- Ostend - message 42 (page 3) and message 166 (page 9)
- The floralies of Groot-Bijgaarden - message 43, page 3
- Halle Forest - message 44, page 3
- Pralines - message 54, page 3
- Charleroi - message 68, page 4
- Namur - message 92, page 5
- Le Bois du Cazier (Marcinelle) - message 95, page 5
- Couques and gosettes - message 96, page 5
- Liège - message 99, page 5
- Tournai - message 115, page 6
- Oudenaarde - message 121, page 7
- Meise Botanical Garden - message 124, page 7
- Tongeren - message 125, page 7
- Beersel Castle (Flemish Brabant) - message 126, page 7
- Brussels in lockdown (messages 150 and 154, page 8)
- Notre-Dame à la Rose Hospital in Lessines (messages 161 and 162, page 9)
- Westende (message 167, page 9)
I’ll keep updating this list as the journal progresses...
This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rental options kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!
The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan?
Not in the end.
The south or not the south?
Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or go with the flow?
Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela about this destination (the guide has been updated since).
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You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek!
(Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
You’ll find here a post with some practical information.
And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.
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As a supplement, the route track.
Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...