Actually, we ended up going to Japan almost by chance. I’d caught glimpses of the country during business trips, and it had been on my “wish list” for a while, but I thought we’d go “when the kids were grown up.”
But this summer (2016), the kids couldn’t agree on a destination—their wishes were completely opposite. Then, realizing that flight tickets weren’t outrageously priced—and having read that Japan wasn’t as expensive as people think—we, the parents, suggested Japan… while warning that it would be scorching hot and humid and that no one should complain. Our eldest (18) was immediately thrilled: “Oh! Mom! I’ve always dreamed of going to Japan!” She convinced her brother (16) that it was the perfect destination. Deal sealed: we’re going to Japan, but no one complains about the heat.
After some forum discussions and family brainstorming, I settled on the following itinerary. One non-negotiable shaped part of our choices: being in Hiroshima on August 6th to attend the lantern floating ceremony. To avoid overloading the trip with extra transport, we skipped Nara, Nikko, and Kamakura.
Day 1 - Arrival at 8:30 AM in Osaka – Kyoto - around the station
Day 2 - Kyoto - East - night: Kyoto
Day 3 - Kyoto - North and center - night: Kyoto
Day 4 - Osaka (stroll with Osaka Safari) - Fushimi Inari -night : Kyoto
Day 5 - Train - Naoshima - night: Uno
Day 6 - Teshima -night: Uno
Day 7 - Naoshima – Hiroshima - night: Hiroshima
Day 8 - Hiroshima – Commemorations - night: Hiroshima
Day 10 - Miyajima- night: Miyajima
Day 10 - Miyajima - Himeji Castle - night: Osaka
Day 11 - Osaka - night: Osaka
Day 12 - Kyoto - West -night: Osaka
Day 13 - Kanazawa to Ainokura - night: Ainokura
Day 14 - Shirakawa-go - Takayama - night: Takayama
Day 15 - Kamikochi night: Takayama
Day 16 - Takayama - return to Kanazawa night: Kanazawa
Day 17 - Kanazawa -night: Kanazawa
Day 18 - Travel to Tokyo (Shibuya) -night: Tokyo
Day 19 - Tokyo (visit with Tokyo Free Guide – Yoyogi Park - Meiji Shrine - Harajuku - Takeshita-dori - Omote Sando - Odaiba) - night: Tokyo
Day 20 - Tokyo (with Tokyo Safari) - night: Tokyo
Day 21 - Tokyo (Tsukiji, Hama-Rikyu Onshi Teien, Asakusa and Senso-ji, Kappabashi, Ameyoko, and Ueno) - night: Tokyo
Day 22 - Tokyo (Shibuya-Yoyogi Park again - Ikebukuro - Shinjuku (Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, Omoide-yokocho, Golden Gai) - night: Tokyo
Day 23 - Tokyo (Yanaka – Ueno – Edo-Tokyo Museum - Takashita-Dori again - back to Shibuya) - departure at 10:50 PM for Paris
(You can access the published days directly by clicking on them).
The itinerary perfectly matched our expectations: a good pace, a wide variety of visits, the must-sees, but also a first taste of rural Japan. If we were to do it again, I’d do exactly the same (except for the back-and-forth between Kyoto and Osaka on Days 4 and 12, which were due to my desire to explore Osaka with Osaka Safari). Of course, we had to skip some sights, especially in Kyoto where we missed a few “highlights,” but that was a deliberate choice—I’d limited our time in the city, which is known for being stifling in summer.
For accommodations, we mixed Airbnb apartments and quadruple rooms in guesthouses and ryokan. It worked out perfectly. The apartments gave us more space and the chance to dine in some evenings, while the guesthouses and ryokan helped us experience Japanese customs.
First, a quick recap: all four of us were enchanted by our trip.
Japan is a constant source of wonder, just like the preface of *Tokyo Sanpo* by Florent Chavouet describes—I’ll take this opportunity to plug the book, which I read with great pleasure after our vacation.
That’s exactly it: everything is a reason for amazement. Everything is so different from home. I wanted to photograph everything around me constantly. I promise, I won’t say “photograph like a Japanese” anymore—during this trip, *I* was the Japanese. And I better understand the culture shock Japanese travelers experience in Europe.
As a friend of mine put it: “It’s simple—they have ten fingers, so they count in base 10. Otherwise, they do everything differently from us.” Well summarized.
Another thing: everything is easy. Everything seems to have its place and be exactly where it should be. The smallest detail seems to have been thought out to make life easier. Things that come to mind: the incredibly well-designed signage in train stations and the subway, the ubiquitous public toilets, designated smoking areas, those hyper-detailed maps with all the useful information available at every place we visited… These maps are so well done that we got into the habit of picking them up systematically. It’s that simple: I came back to Paris with a complete collection. And when we arrived in Takayama by car, our first stop was at the train station to get THE map. But this order goes beyond all these practical elements. There’s a certain *je ne sais quoi* that makes you feel like everything is exactly where it should be. Even during rush hour, in the crowds, people manage to avoid each other in a smooth, collision-free flow—the opposite of the Paris metro. Anyone who’s experienced certain transfers in Paris at certain times will understand.
The exquisite politeness of the Japanese and their desire to be helpful are another highlight of the trip. Every person we met tried to help us and make our lives easier. It was really great.
Oh! I almost forgot: Japan’s hyper-safe side. I’ve rarely felt as safe as I did in Japan. No need to keep an eye on your belongings—they’re not going anywhere. One example among many: in Tokyo, Japanese women leave their bags open with their smartphones casually placed on top. Even I could’ve taken them without them noticing, let alone a pickpocket… No wonder France is seen as dangerous.
That said, I’m not claiming Japanese society is flawless. The role of women and gender relations are downright shocking and archaic from our European perspective. I also don’t think I could live in such a codified society, where the individual is so dissolved into the collective. But for a vacation, it’s simply delightful. On that note, I recommend *Nââânde?!* by Eriko Nakamura, which I discovered after our trip on the recommendation of our eldest’s friend. It’s the story of a Japanese woman married to a Frenchman living in Paris, recounting her astonishment at French habits and customs. Even though I tried to be careful, I’m sure I made quite a few blunders.
As for the climate, it didn’t stop us from enjoying our trip. Sure, we were hot—*really* hot—but by protecting ourselves from the sun (hat for me, caps for the others, plus umbrellas—Japanese-style parasols) and drinking liters and liters of water, it was manageable and didn’t bother us too much, even if we probably had a slower pace than we would’ve with milder weather. That said, with small children, we would’ve struggled more.
Last point before diving into the trip details: the cost. Despite what I’d read, traveling in Japan is still expensive. I’m not talking about our specific trip, where—using our daughter’s 18th birthday and our 20th wedding anniversary as an excuse—I splurged on a few extras that drove up the cost. I was particularly surprised by the price of quadruple rooms, which is roughly the same as two double rooms. So for a family, that’s a significant extra cost. The various paid sites in Kyoto also add up. As for food, it’s generally cheap, but it would be a shame not to budget for a few extras to try some less affordable specialties—like Hida beef in our case.
Friday, July 29 – Saturday, July 30: Paris-Osaka-Kyoto
Departure from Paris in mid-morning, with a layover in Amsterdam. The flight goes smoothly. Smoothly? Well, not entirely: one of our suitcases is missing upon arrival (the one with the comfy shoes🙁). After filling out the forms and exchanging our JR Passes (the daily pass, the cheapest option for the airport-Kyoto train ride, and the 14-day pass with a deferred start date), we’re off to Kyoto. The landscape whizzes by, and I’m amused by the changing habitats outside the window, but my eyelids are heavy. Hard not to doze off.
Once in Kyoto, we head straight to the Airbnb apartment we booked near the station. Drop off the bags, and we’re off to grab a bite. With all the waiting and the train ride, it’s already lunchtime. First taste of Japanese curry—mildly spiced. A surprise.
First taste of Japanese urban planning too.
For this first day, I planned visits around the station and our apartment.
First, the Kikoku-tei garden… which we nearly circled before finding the entrance… and where we endured a full-on mosquito attack. Still really pretty, though.
Then, the Higashi Honganji temple.
While some of us rest on the steps in the shade of the roof, others prefer feeding the locals.
From there, we can admire the city. Undoubtedly, it’s nestled in a basin, which explains the intense heat in summer. I really liked having this overall view.
Toward the north
And toward the south.
The next stop is the train station—a city within a city—with its restaurants and supermarket. Japanese train stations are on a completely different scale compared to those in France and are true hubs of activity. This one is 60 meters tall, and over 240,000 passengers pass through it every day. With its futuristic architecture, it’s reportedly one of Kyoto’s most visited landmarks. On the other hand, we had no choice but to pass through to catch the train. :)
We couldn’t miss a visit to Isetan, the luxury supermarket in the basement. Supermarket visits in Japan are always a highlight: the delight at the countless charming little details, the surprise of discovering unfamiliar (or at least unusual) foods, and the shock at the price of fruit. I’d already had the chance to visit a Japanese supermarket before, but for the others, it was all new. They were completely blown away.
We stopped by a *combini* to grab some snacks for tonight and tomorrow morning before heading back to the apartment.
A quick aside about Airbnb in Japan: First, for every rental, we received an ultra-detailed step-by-step guide to the apartment, complete with plenty of photos. That’s the practical side of Japan. Then, we often picked up and left the keys in the mailboxes. That’s the safety side of Japan. Finally, the apartments were always super well-stocked with cleaning supplies and trash bags. :)
First off, Japan is a constant wonder, just as beautifully described in the preface of Tokyo Sanpo by Florent Chavouet—I’ll take this opportunity to plug the book, which I read with great pleasure after my vacation.
I find Florent Chavouet a bit lost in his later works. While Tokyo Sanpo and especially Manabeshima (after reading it, I *had* to go there) are fabulous, his more recent books are a bit disappointing.
I was particularly surprised by the price of rooms for four, which is pretty much the same as for two double rooms. So for a family, that’s a significant non-savings.
Yeah, often, accommodation prices are per person.
The worst part: in some hotels, a room for two costs the same as two single-occupancy bookings of the same room!!!
Something to keep in mind when booking their semi-double rooms (= microscopic)...
On the flip side, what’s not great for a family of four works out well for a solo traveler, who’ll only pay half the price of a double room.
As a friend of mine put it: "It’s simple—since they have ten fingers, they count in base 10. Otherwise, they do everything differently from us."
And yet, we don’t even count the same way or use the same fingers from 1 to 10 😛...
The role of women and relationships between genders are simply staggering and archaic from our European perspective.
Still, be careful with snap judgments or interpretations from a Western point of view... Many women in Japan don’t work once they’re married, true—but generally, they themselves can’t imagine continuing to work if "Mr." has a well-paid job... It’s not out of obligation that they stop working...
What’s more, they’re completely free to move around: in the evenings, restaurants have about as many men as women, and just as many tables of men as tables of women or mixed tables...
I don’t think I could live in such a rigidly coded society, where the individual is so dissolved into the collective.
It’s a matter of culture and conditioning. What might shock a Westerner is often seen as normal in Japan. And not everyone there has such a rigidly structured life (some of my Japanese friends even have lives that are *less* structured than those of many French people...).
The status of women and gender relations are simply staggering and archaic from our European perspective. I also don’t think I could live in such a codified society, where the individual is so dissolved into the collective.
Are you equally outraged by the status of women in Muslim societies?
On the other hand, I much prefer Japanese society with its codes, its collective consciousness, its focus on the group (without being communist...), and the fact that it protects itself by remaining homogeneous (much to the chagrin of the nation-wreckers governing us), rather than our societies (French, North American, etc.) that are individualistic, as egocentric as can be, and completely disconnected from reality, conditioned by the power of the media... To each their own.
Besides, I much prefer Japanese society and its codes, its collective consciousness, its focus on the group (without being communist...) and the fact that it protects itself by remaining homogeneous (much to the chagrin of the nation-wreckers who govern us), rather than our societies (French, North American, etc.) which are individualistic, as self-centered as can be, and completely disconnected from reality and conditioned by the power of the media... To each their own.
Unfortunately, the grass isn’t any greener in Japan than elsewhere. Some things are better there, some worse. The vision we have of it from the outside and/or as visitors, filtered by the polished image the country projects to foreigners, hides some of Japan’s darker aspects.
Individualism, self-centeredness, disconnection from reality, and the power of the media are problems in Japan too... Films like *Nobody Knows* by Kore-eda tackle some of the less flattering aspects of Japanese society (the treatment of single mothers and unregistered children, the irresponsibility of some fathers, society’s blind eye, among others). I also remember a harrowing film based on sadly very real events about horrific and senseless crimes committed by teenagers and how the self-righteous society and media relentlessly hounded both the suspects and their families, with consequences we can hardly imagine here (the dissolution of entire families and their reduction to social exile, etc.).
There’s a proliferation of cults that, while not reaching the murderous activities of Aum Shinrikyo, are just as harmful. Organized crime still has a strong presence, and politics—both local and national—is far from transparent or perfectly honest...
Alas, the grass isn’t any greener in Japan than elsewhere. Some things are better there, some are worse. The outside view—and even the fleeting impression you get as a visitor—filtered through the country’s polished image for foreigners, hides some of the darker sides of the country.
Oh, I totally agree. I didn’t mean to idealize Japan. 😉
I could say the same about Canada, which some people romanticize without really knowing the country. If you just go by what the media spins, you’d think Trudeau’s Canada is some kind of paradise...
Still, in Japan, there *does* seem to be a stronger collective (national) consciousness than in the West...
Still, in Japan, there seems to be a collective (national) consciousness far more developed than in the West...
Since the Japanese are human like the rest of us, they suffer from the same illusion as we do—that they descend directly from Heaven and are "different" (read: "superior") from the rest of the world... 😎
I didn’t expect to spark a debate like this 😮. I really should’ve realized the topic was a sensitive one.
It’s a matter of culture and conditioning. What might shock a Western perspective is often considered normal in Japan.
We’re on the same page. I actually made sure to say "from our European point of view." Likewise, I specified "I don’t think I could," which is just about me and not a judgment on Japanese society at all. It’s really first and foremost a question of upbringing. That’s actually what struck me most in Japan: how, with a completely different education, people can have such a different worldview.
Sunday, July 31: Eastern Kyoto – Yasaka Pagoda – Kiyomizu-dera, Sannenzaka and Ninenzaka alleys, Ishibe-Koji, Maruyama Park, Yasaka-jinja, Chion-In, Gion, Shirakawa, Pontocho
The most logical way to explore Kyoto is to try to group visits by geographic areas. For this first day, we headed east with a walk starting at Kiyomizu-dera and ending in the evening at Pontocho. (This more or less matches the "Southern Higashiyama" itinerary in the Lonely Planet.)
Off we go! We catch the bus almost right outside our place, which drops us off below Kiyomizu-dera. A mistake in choosing the stop—though we should’ve suspected it: all the tourists got off at the previous stop—lets us discover the little alleys and the Yasaka Pagoda. A blessing in disguise, then.
Very charming. There aren’t many people yet, and we’re delighted by these so-called traditional homes. Sure, it’s packed with restaurants and souvenir shops, but it’s still nice.
Under the weight of the heat, we switch to Japanese mode and stop at a shop to buy… two umbrellas that double as parasols. Ridiculous? Not at all—here, it’s actually very common, especially among women who take great care to protect themselves from the sun. Another sign of this constant concern for protection: the long gloves they wear up to their mid-arms in the sweltering heat, particularly when biking. With our two umbrellas—one gray, one pistachio green—we’re all set!
This stop also lets us notice for the first time that French is undeniably trendy. Throughout our trip, we’ll regularly come across shops and products with more or less French-sounding names. The famous *franponais* (nippon.fr/fr/archives/843), which sometimes results in some pretty bizarre things.
And there we go! Here's Kiyomizu-dera. Already way more crowded! The place is swarming with Asian tourists—we later learned they're mostly Chinese and Korean. Lots of people, or rather, lots of women, are wearing yukatas, summer kimonos (which you can rent). Great for photos.
At the entrance, the purification fountains greet us. At first, I thought—we all thought—that they were for cooling off. But after watching the locals, we realized it’s actually a purification ritual: the right hand holds the ladle to wash the left hand, then it’s the left hand’s turn to wash the right, then the left hand again to pour water into the right hand to rinse the mouth. Or at least, that’s what we *think* we figured out. Either way, it’s refreshing.
The shade of the main hall, the Hondo, with its wide open-air platform, is a welcome relief. Nearby, the *fūrin* (Japanese wind chimes) tinkle in the breeze. In the distance, a pagoda peeks through the trees, its red standing out against the green. Below, Otowa-no-taki, the sacred waterfall, famous for bringing longevity and vitality, waits for the tourist-pilgrims. Sure, it’s packed, but it’s still pretty cool.
The rest of the visit offers a nice view of the Hondo. Then it’s down to the waterfall. Along the way, the cemetery catches my eye—I slip away from the tourist flow for a moment. Honestly, I’m not sure if it’s actually allowed—no one else was going there—but I looked around and didn’t see any "keep out" signs. So I went for it.
The waterfall
Now *that’s* a pillar!
A staircase leads back up to the temple and other pavilions. All in all, it’s really nice.
We’ve finished at Kiyomizu-dera, backtracked, and are now heading down through the alleys lined with old houses. More people than on the way up.
Our stomachs are growling, so we find our way to a tiny—just like so many places in Japan—restaurant run by a lovely granny who keeps saying “haï” (“yes” in Japanese) throughout the meal, her smile lighting up when we say “Misu, kudasaï” (“Water, please”). The only available seats are the ones with traditional Japanese seating, meaning on the floor. Our oldest gets a laugh from the neighbors when she takes off not just her shoes but her socks too before settling onto the tatami. The meal is simple but high quality, and not too pricey for such a touristy spot. Japan’s reputation is well deserved. For dessert, we grab a matcha tea ice cream from one of the many ice cream shops along the way that have been teasing us for a while—just the first of many for me, since the kids aren’t big fans and their dad isn’t either.
Time is flying, so we decide to skip Koadai-ji, even though it’s well known. We do make sure to take a detour through Ishebe-Koji, which is really charming. That’s where we spot one of the two geishas we’ll see during our trip, all dolled up in white makeup and a stunning kimono. It’s also our first brush with Japanese kindness: a local approaches us, asks a few questions, is thrilled to chat, and insists on taking our photo—with our camera—in the middle of the alley “for the memory.”
A few hundred meters later, we reach Maruyama Park and the super-friendly Yasaka Shrine with its pretty white lanterns.
One last push and we’re at Chion-in. Too bad a large part of the buildings is closed.
I take a break to call our luggage delivery service.
AF-KLM called us earlier to say they could deliver our bag the next morning but didn’t give us a time. When we pushed for a more precise slot, the person gave us a whole list of numbers to call. The family unanimously decided—minus one vote—that it would be my job to handle it. With some apprehension, I dive in, since our limited experience in Japan has shown that communicating in English can be tough. But oh joy, the person I speak to has perfect English! We reschedule the delivery for late afternoon the next day. Everything seems to be going smoothly until they ask for the address in kanji. Uh-oh! I stop the first passerby—luckily, we have our host’s paper with the address on it—but they’re not Japanese! I call the cashier over to help. She doesn’t understand what I’m saying. No problem, I hand her the phone, and off she goes for a long chat. I wonder how it can be so complicated. Still, she sorts it out with a smile, apologizes for having to pause the conversation to hand out two tickets, and even thanks me at the end. I shower her with “arigatō gozaimasu.” Okay, it’s not the right way to say thank you, but it’s the best I’ve got! First taste of the incredible helpfulness we’ll experience throughout our trip.
Done with temples and shrines for today—we're heading to Gion.
Done with temples and shrines? Not quite—just one more small neighborhood shrine.
A quick detour through the alleys lets us spot our second and last geisha of the day.
Then it's north to Shirakawa, with its traditional houses—this time by the water.
As evening approaches, we make our way to Pontocho. From the bridge over the Kamogawa, we see people strolling along the banks in the gentle evening air, and the terraces of this famous district’s restaurants. I’d initially thought about eating there, but the prices quickly put us off—this side of the street is mostly high-end restaurants. We ended up on the "land" side instead. A little rain catches us in Pontocho, so our umbrellas came in handy for that too.
After some hesitation, we land in a yakitori restaurant, chosen for its bustling crowd. A bit pricey, but delicious. A few last nighttime photos, and then it’s back home. Time for bed.
I keep saying « aligatô gozaimasu ». Okay, it’s not the correct form of ‘thank you,’ but it’s the best I’ve got…
No matter the grammatical form, it’s the clear expression of your gratitude that counts and will stick in that person’s mind. Even if you’d said "merci de votre aide" in French, it would’ve been appreciated just as much.
In a situation like this, you can say "(Dômo) arigato gozaimash'ta", "Arigato gozaimash'ta", or "Dômo sumimasen" (the last one implies you recognize you’ve received an extraordinary favor).
Thanks for these explanations. I’ll do better next time. Because there will definitely be another trip to Japan.
Monday, August 1st: Northern and central Kyoto - Kinkaku-ji - Ryoan-ji - Nijo Castle - Nishiki Market - Teramachi shopping arcade
For this day, the plan is to start the morning in the north with the Golden Pavilion, then continue to the surrounding temples before heading back toward the city center to explore Nishiki Market in particular. To get to Kinkaku-ji, we take the bus again—probably not as fast as the subway, but it lets us comfortably discover the city.
It’s true, the pavilion is harmonious, golden against a backdrop of greenery. Its reflection in the lake, dotted with small islands, creates a timeless image.
Well, the flip side is this. Less appealing. What’s really annoying is all the selfies and the “let me take a photo in front of the pavilion” moments.
We manage to find a little spot to settle in and enjoy the scenery unfolding before us. Looking at the pavilion, I can’t help but think of Mishima’s book and that monk who put his shoes on his head.
The next stop is Ryoan-ji, famous for its Zen garden made of rocks and sand. Its unique feature is that it has 15 rocks, but you can never see more than 14 at the same time. Though it's one of Kyoto's iconic sights, we only partly connect with it. It's amusing, but that's about it. Could it be because it's really hot (the sand radiates heat quite strongly) or that we don't spend enough time soaking in the place (one probably goes with the other)? We enjoy the mossy garden at the back more—it's easier to access and, most importantly, cooler.
A walk around the pond then lets us discover a lovely "forest" made of pines, moss, shade, and light.
Alright, time to eat! There isn't much around. Our pocket Wi-Fi, provided as part of our rental, and Google Maps save the day by helping us find a nearby restaurant. What we find isn't so much a restaurant as the feeling of walking into someone's home. But the food is good, hearty enough, and most of all, really nice.
To mix things up, we skip Ninna-ji (it’s not too far) and take a bus to Nijo Castle instead. This castle is far from the traditional image of Japanese castles with their multiple cascading floors topped by soaring roofs. Nijo Castle is actually a more or less staggered succession of rooms on stilts. What makes it really worth visiting is its decoration: paintings and the famous "nightingale" flooring, which creaks underfoot to alert you to any intruders. No photos allowed… and Pokémon hunting is banned. It’s surrounded by a stunning garden that we don’t miss exploring. The ramparts offer some fun views of the surroundings, and we feel like we’re in a bubble of calm and greenery right in the middle of the city’s hustle and bustle.
With the afternoon well underway, it’s time to head to Nishiki Market. I was worried it might be almost closed, but no—there’s still plenty of life and lots of fun foods to try. We have a great time wandering through the market and taking photos of all the quirky things that seem so unusual to our European eyes. I take the chance to pick up a few specialties for tonight (some delicious eggplants with a slightly tangy sauce and what turned out to be fish cakes—though they weren’t as good as the eggplants).
On our way back, we (almost) stumble upon the Termachi shopping arcade. Perfect timing—I wanted to see it. These covered, air-conditioned pedestrian streets dedicated to shopping, called *shotengai*, are a classic Japanese feature we’ll encounter again in Hiroshima.
A Shinto shrine right in the middle of the shops.
Tea salon storefront. Almost all restaurants have these plastic food displays outside.
A cat and owl café where you can pet the animals for a set time.
A quick stop at the Takashimaya (a department store chain) basement in the area to finish our shopping for tonight’s meal, and then it’s back home. Today’s daily pass was well worth it. :)
These kinds of covered, pedestrian-only shopping streets that are also air-conditioned—shotengai—are a classic Japanese feature we’ll see again in Hiroshima.
You’ll find them in most cities.
They’re great for rainy days, for example...
Ho, all of this is magnificent and makes you want to go.
Thanks. Travel journals are made for that, and it's great if it makes you want to go.
As for cults, they’re proliferating in Europe too, and we let it happen.
Uh... I never talked about cults.
I’ll continue (a little°)
Tuesday, August 2: Osaka with Osaka Safari – Fushimi Inari
Two highlights for the day: visiting Osaka with Osaka Safari in the morning and Fushimi Inari in the afternoon.
I discovered Osaka Safari (osakasafari.com/) on Anaïs and Pedro’s blog (www.anaisetpedro.com/) (which I highly recommend, by the way, to anyone thinking of going to Japan—or anywhere else). The concept: a walk through Osaka’s neighborhoods with Angelo, an expat married to a Japanese woman who speaks fluent Japanese. The tour is adaptable to your interests, with explanations about Japan, various anecdotes, and photography tips. Due to Angelo’s availability, only this half-day was possible. Oh well, we’ll make a round trip from Kyoto.
First, a little tour around Umeda Station, the meet-up spot.
“Tradition and modernity”
That’s a chapel for weddings—well, mostly for wedding photos. :)
And off we go to Tsuruhashi, in eastern Osaka, on the edge of the Korean district (Osaka has a large Korean community, the biggest in Japan—150,000 people, I read (www.vivrelejapon.com/...atown-quartier-coree)), for a stroll through a charming, old-fashioned market.
Our first stop is the fish market, a bit of a makeshift place located under the railway tracks. Though there are still a few fish on the stalls, the market is about to close, and the fishmongers are busy. But thanks to Angelo’s presence, we’re welcomed with open arms. The people are friendly and happy to chat with us. We watch an impressive, precision fish-cutting demonstration, check out the tuna tanks, and discover unknown foods… I even get to “play” with an octopus that takes a liking to me, leaving some lovely hickeys on my arm that last for days. Everyone has a good laugh.
We continue with the rest of the market. Everywhere, people smile at us, want us to taste things, offer us others—we left with a whole bunch of little gifts: tomatoes, a milk drink, plums... and they ask us about our lives, our impressions of Japan...
The basin serves as a cash register and holds the customers' money. When I say Japan is a safe country...
You can even find whale. 🙁
Street vendor.
This lady insisted on letting us taste and retaste her dishes.
It was a really great stroll with Angelo, allowing for lots of interactions with the vendors and providing plenty of explanations.
I'm also jumping on board to follow this travel journal 😉 I'm planning to spend 15 days in Japan next year, at Easter. Thanks for sharing your experience!
Three quick questions already:
- When you arrived in Osaka, if I understood correctly, you didn’t activate your JR Pass? What type of ticket did you get instead?
- Do you have any good accommodation recommendations to share?
- The crowds in Kyoto scare me... Your story confirms what we read everywhere about it 😕 In situations like this, I think the only solution is to arrive very early at the sites. What time were you there to visit the temples?
In this kind of situation, I think the only solution is to arrive very early at the sites you want to visit. What time were you there to visit the temples?
Tour operators usually pack as many temples as possible into a short time and start early in the morning. It's generally around lunchtime that there are fewer people.
That said, if you really want to avoid crowds, you should start by avoiding weekends and not necessarily cramming too many temple visits into your itinerary... Japan (including Kyoto) isn’t just about its temples.
- When arriving in Osaka, if I understood correctly, you didn’t activate your JR Pass? What type of ticket did you get?
Actually, I had bought a daily JR tpass that I had to get activated. It’s the cheapest option for a train trip, but I’m not sure it was a good idea—there isn’t much savings, and we had to queue to get it activated. I could’ve done without that extra wait after the trip from Paris.
- Do you have any good accommodation recommendations to share?
All the Airbnbs we stayed in were fine, but none were unforgettable enough to recommend absolutely. I’ll share the guesthouse references later in the story. If there’s a specific place you’re looking for, let me know—I’ll tell you where we went and what we thought of it.
The crowds in Kyoto scare me... Your story confirms what we read everywhere about it 😕 In situations like this, I think the only solution is to arrive very early at the sites. What time were you there to visit the temples?
We never got up very early—except in Miyajima—so I can’t tell you if it’s crowded at opening time. In museums and such, we noticed fewer people in the late afternoon, probably because everything closes so early. We even got caught out a few times. About Kyoto, don’t worry: yes, there are crowds at the main monuments, but as soon as you step away from them, the crowds disappear.
Looking forward to the rest, I hope...
I’ll continue.
So, next up
We head to Namba and Sennichimae Doguyasuji, the street for kitchen utensils.
The visit ends way too soon for our liking. We had a great morning. Angelo is a passionate Osaka local who wants to share and help people love his city. He succeeds perfectly. I really recommend it. After a few more tips, Angelo leaves us near several restaurants.
For lunch, we choose a Tonkatsu restaurant, a Japanese specialty with a special breadcrumb coating called panko, much lighter than our European breadcrumbs (www.cuisine-japon.fr/panko/). As always in Japan, the entire meal—dish and sides—is served on a tray.
With our bellies full, we head back to Kyoto—or more precisely, to Fushimi Inari, the Shinto shrine with its 10,000 torii gates.
At the lower part of the shrine, it’s packed with people, and we feel like we’re in a subway corridor rather than in the middle of nature. Luckily, the crowd thins out quickly, and we can continue our climb at a more relaxed pace.
All along the path, the fox, messenger of Inari, the kami (goddess) of rice, keeps us company. (More details here: www.joranne.com/...rquoi-le-renard.html)
These pretty inscriptions, to our European eyes, are actually the names of the torii sponsors. The most prominent torii gates can cost over a million yen.
The view of Kyoto at the end of our climb. We’re not quite sure where we stopped—none of the three maps we came across matched the others. Maps in Japan are actually quite surprising: first, they’re not oriented north-south but based on the environment. What’s in front of the reader corresponds to the top of the map, what’s behind to the bottom, left is left, and right is right. More logical but unusual. Also, and most importantly, they’re often not to scale but functional maps. This means intersections are correctly positioned relative to each other, but the distances between them aren’t accurate. It’s often misleading and can lead to a few surprises.
While preparing for our trip, I stumbled upon Naoshima—the art island—thanks to Anaïs and Pedro’s blog, if I remember correctly. In the 1980s, the president of Benesse Corporation, a company active in education, decided to transform Naoshima, a small island in the Seto Inland Sea, into a major cultural and artistic hub. Today, it’s home to several museums and numerous artworks scattered across the island.
As I dug deeper, I discovered that this year, the Setouchi Triennale, an international contemporary art festival, is taking place. From March to November, several islands in the Seto Inland Sea, including Naoshima, host multiple art installations. setouchi-artfest.jp/en/. That was all it took for us to decide to spend a few days in the area. Our plan: Naoshima and Teshima, which houses another Benesse museum.
For those interested in the region, here’s a list of sites to explore:
benesse-artsite.jp/en/ for everything about Benesse museums;
ogijima.fr/, a blog by an expat dedicated to the islands of the Seto Inland Sea and Takamatsu;
setouchiexplorer.com/, the same blog in English, this time focused on the Triennale;
unoportinn.com/local-tips/, the info-packed page from the hotel where we stayed. .
After some hesitation, we chose Uno, on the "mainland," as our base for these few days. Several reasons for this choice: accommodations on Naoshima are limited. There’s the hotel attached to the Benesse House Museum, but it’s way over our budget. There’s also the Tsutsujiso, but when I tried to book, only the yurts were available. Without air conditioning, I feared the worst, and the location is far from restaurants. Since we also want to visit Teshima, Uno isn’t a bad choice in the end, even if ferry schedules make travel a bit restrictive. For our stay, I had booked two rooms at Uno Slope House (unoslopehouse.com/), which has great reviews online. But the owner had since opened a hotel in the center (unoportinn.com/) and no longer operated the guesthouse. He offered to switch us. The upside: the hotel is super central, just a 2-minute walk from the train station and 3 minutes from the ferry docks. The downside: the road in front of the hotel isn’t super busy, but it’s noisy due to trucks. Since I’m ultra-sensitive to noise, the traffic was pretty bothersome. The others weren’t as bothered.
For now, we’re leaving Kyoto and experiencing the shinkansen, Japan’s famous bullet trains with their pointy noses. They’re really comfortable and spacious, and they’re so stable—no swaying like France’s TGV. The restrooms are a masterpiece of customer service: spacious enough to fit a wheelchair with room to turn around, and there’s even a sink outside the toilet.
We changed trains in Okayama, caught a regional train, made a second change, and then we were in Uno. We quickly dropped off our luggage at the hotel and set off immediately to catch the ferry. The next one wasn’t for several hours.
In Uno, we bought the Triennale pass (since we were also going to Teshima, there was no doubt it would be worth it), rented bikes, and stopped for a meal. Then we set off to explore the island. We decided to skip the installations in the villages for now and start with the Benesse Art Site, which groups together the two main museums and a few "permanent" statues, including Yayoi Kusama’s famous pumpkin and many works by Niki de Saint Phalle. With the heat, the few hills on the island made us sweat a lot. The site itself, which covers a significant part of the island, is off-limits to bikes (and cars, of course). So we left our rides in the parking lot at the entrance. The intense heat and scorching sun made us decide to take the free shuttle that serves all the main points of interest. We opted to go straight to the farthest building and walk back leisurely when the sun was less intense. The farthest building is the Chichu Art Museum, which houses four of Monet’s *Water Lilies*. It’s one of those museums that, like the Guggenheim in Bilbao or the Louis Vuitton Foundation in Paris, is a work of art in itself. Its architect, Tadao Ando, designed it around the artworks it was meant to house. Although the entire museum is underground, only natural light illuminates the works through a clever system of light wells and reflections. (unpointculture.com/...-museum-de-naoshima/)
When we arrived, there was no line—what luck, though we didn’t know it yet. I should mention that in Japan, unlike in France, museums seem much less crowded in the afternoon than in the morning.
The first room is dedicated to the *Water Lilies*. Access is limited: no more than 10 people are allowed in at the same time (hence our "luck"), and you have to take off your shoes. The floor is made of small white marble tiles. The paintings are lit by indirect light coming from slits in the ceiling around the edges of the room. This lighting gives the space a somewhat unreal feel. Undeniably, an experience.
The museum also houses a work by Walter de Maria, which was less impressive, and pieces by James Turrell, including a sensory experience based on a pretty mind-blowing optical illusion. We left the museum completely won over, exclaiming, "The Japanese really know their stuff!"
Putting our plan into action—"let’s walk back to the parking lot at a leisurely pace"—we headed to the Lee Ufan Museum, which didn’t impress us much. For those in a hurry, it’s a non-essential stop.
Somehow, we missed *Slag Buddha 88* by Tsuyoshi Ozawa—88 small Buddha statues made from industrial waste on Teshima. I’d spotted them before coming and really wanted to see them.
The Benesse House Museum was closed. We’d have to come back.
A first promontory features many artworks.
The Seto Inland Sea is also stunning.
A few more minutes of walking, and there it was—the famous pumpkin.
The lawn in front of the restaurant, featuring—among other things—works by Niki de Saint Phalle.
After picking up our bikes, we head straight back to Miyanoura port—we’ve got to stick to the rental shop’s schedule. The solid half-hour we have before the ferry arrives lets us explore the few artworks around the port.
- and wonder what those strange boats are actually for. (Anyone know?)
Once we arrive at the hotel, we fully settle into our room, complete with futons and yukatas (summer kimonos). The kids are thrilled. Another source of surprise and amusement: even though the bathroom is private, it’s not en-suite but down the hall. Funny setup. There are also washing machines available, so we take advantage of them.
For dinner, we head to one of the restaurants recommended by the hotel (they’ve got a whole series of handy little cards to help guests, covering Naoshima, Teshima, Uno, etc.). Again, it’s quite small, with only a few dishes on offer—but everything’s delicious.
This second day is dedicated to Teshima. Teshima is a bit like Naoshima was 10–15 years ago—larger and hillier. Sadly known in the 1980s for being a dumping ground for toxic waste, it now houses another Benesse museum, the Teshima Art Museum, a few other permanent artworks, the Shima Kitchen restaurant (www.shimakitchen.com/en/) designed by Ryo Abe, and, of course, the Triennale. Less known to the general public, it attracts far fewer tourists, mostly Japanese. The crowd is discreet and respectful.
Following advice we read online, we rent electric bikes this time. This choice might raise a few smiles, but these things are truly magical: on flat roads, they’re just like normal bikes, but as soon as the road climbs, the electric motor kicks in, so all you have to do is keep pedaling at a steady pace without much effort. Try one, and you’ll be sold.
Wanting to repeat the trick from the day before, we head straight for the Teshima Art Museum.
We make a quick stop at “Tom Na H-iu” (benesse-artsite.jp/en/art/tom-na-h-iu.html) by Mariko Mori. The artwork is hidden in the middle of the forest. The path to get there is muddy, so pristine white boots are provided to spare our shoes. Very Japanese.
Photos aren’t normally allowed, but I think I bent the rules a little.
The piece is connected to the neutrino detector at the Kamioka Observatory and lights up every time a neutrino is detected. Given how hard it is to catch a neutrino, we weren’t surprised that our brief visit didn’t let us see it light up.
Ouch! Upon arriving at the Teshima Art Museum, we find it’s already full. But as is typical in Japan, everything is well organized—tourists don’t cluster in long, chaotic lines waiting for space to open up. Instead, entry slots are scheduled every 15 minutes, and a hostess gives each visitor a ticket with the time they need to return to buy their ticket and enter. (If only museums in Paris could take a page from their book.) Our turn is in half an hour, so we decide to wait nearby in the shade rather than rush back and forth in the heat to another installation.
The Teshima Art Museum is a museum-work taken to its ultimate form: designed by Ryue Nishizawa and Rei Nato, the museum is essentially one massive artwork. **SPOILER ALERT**—I’d advise readers planning to visit to skip the next few lines to keep the surprise intact. It’s actually an enormous, curved hall with two roughly elliptical skylights. Everything is white, even the hostesses who manage entry. Again, you have to take off your shoes to enter. People sit directly on the floor. Talking is prohibited. Thanks to a clever system and a hydrophobic coating, water droplets meander across the floor, forming intricate networks. The whole experience has a slightly mystical vibe. Described like this, it might not sound particularly exciting, but in person, it’s really something.
Another great experience. “The Japanese just don’t quit!” What I love about them—among a thousand other things—is that when they set out to do something, they go all in. Here, the goal is to make modern art accessible to as many people as possible, and they’ve created a one-of-a-kind museum-work in the middle of nowhere.
A quick stroll through the rice fields overlooking the museum, and then we head up to the top of the village to reserve four spots at Shima Kitchen. While waiting for our time slot, we have enough time to explore the surroundings and a few installations. Among them, the "Storm House" (Janet Cardiff and Geaorge Bures Miller), which simulates a storm, as the name suggests. You enter the house, settle in, and a storm breaks out. Pretty mind-blowing. Another great experience. Then there's the "Hotel Lemon" (Smiles), with a pretty wacky visit. This one is done as a couple with an audio guide that invites you to complete mini-challenges. Nothing too scary, I assure everyone. Even though I still walk along sidewalks avoiding stepping on the crocodile lines, I had a lot of fun trying to avoid the fictional alligators in the fake pond. But you have to play along, otherwise, there's no charm. It also really helps to be in pairs—the coordination efforts add to the fun. The visit was filled with laughter and ended with even more laughter.
Just a little more effort and it’s « Particles in the Air » by Noe Aoki.
With a cute little shrine nearby.
We didn’t really connect with « Your First Colours » by Pipilotti Rist, though. All I remember is a hazy impression of colors flashing in the dark without much charm.
But that’s not all—it’s time to eat! We sat Japanese-style and enjoyed local dishes from two set menus: fish or vegetarian curry. Another great moment.
Off we go! We hop back on our bikes and head toward the port.
We stopped by « No Wins - Multibasket » by Jasmina Llobet and Luis Fernandez Pons. There were balls available, and I had a bit of trouble getting my three little ones away before they got heatstroke.
A few more pedal strokes and we reached « Les Archives du Cœur » by Christian Boltanski (ogijima.fr/...ves-coeur-boltanski/). A slightly unsettling experience: heartbeats are played in a dark room, lit only by a faint bulb flickering more or less in time with the heartbeat you hear. You can even feel the vibrations of the beats. For an extra fee, you can record and listen to your own heartbeat.
We then spent a good while searching for installation 33 around the village, but no luck. Turns out it’s only part of the autumn program—we realized that later. No installation 33, then, but we still discovered a lovely village.
The day flew by faster than we wanted, and we didn’t have time to explore the south of the island. We decide to head back to their place and arrive just in time to visit the « Teshima Yooko House », the result of a collaboration between architect Yuko Nagayama and painter Tadanori Yokoo. No photos allowed inside, so here’s the exterior, which gives a—very—vague idea. (For more photos, see here: http://www.archdaily.com/472507/teshima-yokoo-house-yuko-nagayama-and-associates). In a few words, the house is super playful with its light, color, and mirror effects. I really loved the glass floor in the “living room” and the river flowing underneath.
When we get there, « Needle Factory » by Shono Ohtake is about to close. We only have time for a quick look inside. Again, no photos allowed. So, the exterior it is.
Next up is another fruitless search to find Tobias Rehberger’s psychedelic café « Was du liebst, bringt dich auch zum Weinen », which I’d seen photos of online (https://setouchiexplorer.com/du-liebst-bringt-dich-auch-zum-weinen/). Turns out it was actually closed at that hour. No coffee, then, but another lovely discovery in the village.
Our kids put it best—we *loved* exploring Teshima. Wandering the island through its rice fields and villages in search of the different artworks was really cool. I’m already promising myself that when we retire—yes, that’s a long way off—we’ll come back in the spring during a Triennale and visit other small islands too.
Tonight, we’re heading back to the same restaurant as last night—it was such a hit. Yep, we’re creatures of habit.
Thanks! If you have any questions, don’t hesitate at all.
I really appreciate you adding new text as I progress through my reading
I’ll try to take advantage of this vacation period to make some progress.
Friday, August 5: More Naoshima – Train to Hiroshima
We still have almost a full day left to finish exploring Naoshima. This time, we’re renting electric bikes—it’s so much fun, and it’ll let us explore the steeper parts of the island. We take the other route to Benesse Art Site, the one marked “steep slopes” on the map. Super easy with our pro bikes! We stop at the Chichu Art Museum parking lot—way more crowded than the other day. We really lucked out. A quick shuttle ride, and we’re at the Benesse House Museum. Around forty modern works in total, with quite a few Japanese artists but not exclusively. The museum is spacious and pleasant to visit. It’s less unique than the previous two but still worth the detour. Either way, our oldest seems to really enjoy it, spending a long time in front of each painting.
To get to our next stop, Honmura, we cut across the island. Glad we went for the electric option! Here, we find a bit of the same vibe as Teshima and make some great discoveries.
One of the two dams.
« Another Rebirth » by Kimiyo Mishima.
« Labyrinth of Cherry Blossom » by Tadao Ando, on the other hand, didn’t win us over. The trees are so scrawny, and it’s not the right season. Maybe in a few years during spring…
Alright! Off we go to Honmura. This is where the Art House Project began. Also run by Benesse Art Site, this program aims to restore old houses and turn them into mini-museums/art spaces. These houses are accessible year-round, independent of the Triennale.
We start with Minamidera, which houses « Backside of the Moon by James Turrell. Another interesting sensory experience. We enter in small groups. (A ticket system with a set time to arrive is in place. When we went, there were only a few people. The wait allowed us to visit the Ando Museum right next door.) We move forward in complete darkness through a corridor that effectively isolates the house from outside light. We sit down and wait. Little by little, our eyes begin to perceive what was invisible. Undoubtedly the best of the Houses of Honmura we visited.
As for the Ando Museum, it was a bit disappointing: sure, it has some interesting photos of the construction of the Chichu Art Museum, but overall, we were left wanting more.
After managing—with some difficulty—to grab a bite, we continue exploring the other houses. They’re clearly a step, or even two, below Minamidera. That said, we didn’t visit Kinza, which is reputed to be the most extraordinary house, but access is highly restricted (one person at a time, with a 15-minute visit—only 18 people per day). We also skipped Go’O Shrine, partly out of laziness. Probably a mistake.
No photos except for the exterior shots of Haisha (« Dreaming Tongue, Bokkon-Nozoki » by Shinro Ohtake). We really liked this house, which can be explored both inside and out.
Back to Miyanoura. A stop in front of the Naoshima Bath "I❤️島" and its fascinating façade. These are actually public baths, so it’s possible to see the interior.
We take a quick trip to Miyanoura Gallery 6, which I remember vaguely—except for how kind the staff were when our youngest started bleeding from the nose, bending over backwards to help. There was also a nice little film about the lives of the locals and the history of Naoshima, though I might’ve dozed off a bit in the coolness of the room.
A quick ferry ride and we’re in Uno. A quick look at two artworks housed in the city, a stop at the hotel to grab our bags, and we jump on the train to Hiroshima.
Thanks so much for the compliment and for taking the time to leave a little note.
Saturday, August 6: Hiroshima
Everyone knows: on August 6, 1945, the U.S. military dropped the first nuclear bomb in history over Hiroshima, and the city was wiped off the map. 75,000 people were killed instantly, and tens of thousands more in the days that followed. In total, 140,000 of the 350,000 inhabitants lost their lives within six months of the blast, not to mention the long-term effects on many other victims.
We made sure to be in Hiroshima on August 6 to attend the Peace Memorial ceremonies, especially the floating lanterns on the Motoyasu River at nightfall. We could’ve—we should’ve—made an effort to get up a little earlier that morning to attend the other ceremonies and the dove release at 8:15, the exact time the bomb hit, but laziness got the better of us… Anyway, the day was already underway by the time we set off.
To get to the Peace Memorial Park, we decided to take a little stroll through the city, passing by Shitenchi, the nightlife district,
and Hondori, a large shopping area spanning several pedestrian, covered, and air-conditioned streets—as I’ve already mentioned before. We got acquainted with Japanese store signs,
and with Pepper, the humanoid robot from Aldebaran, a French robotics company that was acquired by Japanese telecom operator Softbank. A real conversation between deaf people: Pepper only speaks Japanese, but it’s cute and funny with all its expressions.
A little effort and here we are at the Peace Memorial Park. Lots of people here on this day of commemorations. It’s clearly a classic visit for Japanese families.
The morning ceremony installations are still in place. Many Japanese are paying their respects in front of the cenotaph for the bomb victims. Didn’t have the energy to queue in the blazing sun for the photo in line with the axis. Nor the desire to play the obnoxious tourist in this atmosphere of reflection. Oh well, no photo then!
We head to the Peace Museum, partly closed but still interesting and, of course, deeply moving.
Right from the start, a model helps you grasp the scale of the blast. There are also period photos, burnt clothes, objects found in the ruins, twisted doors, melted statues, traces of the black rain that followed the explosion... All these elements show the extent, the intensity of the damage, and the horror of it all. But, despite what I’d read, there aren’t—or at least very few and easily avoidable—images that would justify not bringing young children. In fact, Japanese families come here as part of a kind of duty of remembrance. That’s actually what’s striking in this museum: the duty of memory. The facts are presented—at least in the English version—with an emphasis on objectivity, without hatred or condemnation. Volunteer survivors of the disaster are also there to share their testimonies. When I’d talked with one of the hotel staff in Uno about Hiroshima and the atomic bomb, this calmness without resentment, simply marked by deep sadness, had already struck me.
The long-term effects of the bomb are also presented, and the visit ends with the story of Sadako, who developed leukemia and believed that if she managed to fold 1,000 paper cranes, she would be saved. Since then, these paper cranes have become a symbol of hope, and people continue to send them from all over the world.
As moving as it is, this museum is, in my opinion, a must-see during a visit to Hiroshima. It also teaches you a lot about Japanese society.
We continued our visit by systematically exploring the park:
— the Peace Memorial Hall,
— the Flame of Peace, which has been burning since 1964 and will remain lit as long as nuclear weapons exist,
— the Peace Bell,
— the Children’s Peace Monument and its garlands of paper cranes,
— and, on the other side of the river, the Atomic Bomb Dome. Located just 100 meters from the hypocenter, it’s one of the few buildings that remained more or less standing within a 2-kilometer radius.
Undeniably moving. But all that shouldn’t stop us from eating. Today at lunch, we tried—without having sought it out—we simply picked a restaurant where lots of people were going in without knowing what to expect—a ramen chain called Ichiran. The concept is simple: you order meal tickets from a vending machine (basically ramen plus any extras); with your ticket in hand, you fill out a form to specify your preferences: strong/mild, spicy/sweet, with or without scallions… you wait, then you’re seated either in the main dining area or in private booths, and your meal arrives. You can ask for a refill of broth. A fun concept. We had a bit of trouble understanding at first, especially realizing it’s a restaurant that only serves ramen, and it was only when the line behind us started growing that we decided to order four ramens and a pork extra.
With our stomachs full, we head to Shukkei-en, Hiroshima’s famous garden. Since I didn’t map out the route well, I took us on a detour through Hiroshima’s green area. These wanderings let us stumble upon the hypocenter memorial plaque, surprisingly discreet,
… a protest—given the date, likely against nuclear weapons,
Thanks for this beautiful and rich travel journal!
I’m following it closely because we’ll be in Japan for 2 weeks this summer, and also in Hiroshima on August 6th.
How much time did you spend at the memorial museum?
Thanks!
Looking forward to the next episode! 🙂
Thanks for this travel journal—I’m reading it bit by bit!
We’re also planning to be in Hiroshima on August 6th. We’re thinking of spending 2 days / 3 nights there. On August 6th, is it possible to visit all the sites and museums as on other days? Are there more people at these places? Do the commemorations mainly take place in the morning around 8 AM and in the evening after dark? That would mean we’d have to take the train on the morning of August 7th.
Thanks, and looking forward to reading more! !
3 semaines au Japon Novembre 2011 Bonjour, De retour d’un magnifique voyage au pays des momiji, je tiens tout d’abord à remercier tous ceux d’entre vous qui…
Je vais vous narrer ici nos vacances dans cet étonnant pays. Vous pourrez suivre cette aventure jours après jours et échanger sur notre expérience. Nous…
Après avoir usé et abusé des nombreux conseils de ce forum, justice sera rendue! Donc voilà, je me lance et vous fait part de mon expérience: 3 semaines au…
Ce forum m'a aidé à prévoir ce voyage cet été fin juillet début août, de 14 nuits sur place. Merci aux "animateurs" de ce forum, même si souvent je lis sans…
Il y a quelques mois je revenais émerveillé par les paysages gigantesques de l'ouest américain. J'avais fait un carnet de voyage pour faire partager ce périple…
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.
Si je ferme les yeux et pense au sultanat d’Oman, je sens d’abord un léger parfum d’encens, la chaleur d'un rayon de soleil sur ma peau, avant de sentir le sable couler dans ma main… J’ai sur la langue le goût et le moelleux d’une datte, véritable bonbon, puis celui du café avec une pointe de cardamome et d’eau de rose.... J’entends le vent du désert siffler à mes oreilles, au loin l’appel d’un muezzin, puis le murmure de l’eau. J’ouvre les yeux, je vois des sourires, des signes de bienvenue, je vois une mer turquoise, des roches allant de l’ocre au pourpre, des wadis profonds d’où jaillissent des torrents, des dunes oranges, des plages de sable blanc où de petits crabes filent à toute allure. Je vois des oasis incroyables qui surgissent entre les montagnes arides. Je vois des villages abandonnés que l’on rêverait pleins de vie, des forteresses imposantes dominant des vallées, et des souks animés où la proposition est délicate et la négociation une politesse mutuelle…
Tout cela, et bien plus encore.
C’est ce que j’ai essayé de traduire dans mon carnet de voyage dessiné, que je complèterai çà et là de photos.
Ce carnet, je l’ai dessiné « à froid », après mon retour (en fait je l’ai réalisé cet été alors que notre voyage date de cet hiver). Il est d’un format assez spécial je l’avais acheté au japon, sans trop savoir ce que j’allais en faire. Et bien il a trouvé son usage ! Voici ci-dessous une photo de ce carnet, en mode accordéon : là, il n’est que partiellement ouvert, car tout déplié cela fait 5 mètres de long !
Pour les amateurs de dessin : Le format en accordéon est à la fois une contrainte (chaque feuillet fait un format 9 cm X 27 cm), et une liberté (on peut faire une fresque). Le papier est aussi un peu spécial : il n’offre pas une grande finesse de trait, mais il prend bien l’encre (feutre liner). En revanche, tout doit être fait presque d’un jet (avec une esquisse très légère au crayon) car il se gomme très mal. Il boit trop l’eau pour colorer au feutre ou à l’aquarelle (ou alors sans utiliser la détrempe), en revanche il porte bien le pastel à l’huile et son utilisation au pinceau avec de l’essence. Tirant sur le jaune, il m’a permis de créer des contrastes y compris avec le pastel blanc.
A droite, le "marqueur" de l'accueil, ces dattes qu'on vous offre partout en signe d'hospitalité. A gauche, un hommage à ces sublimes portes usées par les temps, qu'on admire un peu partout dans les quartiers anciens, y compris ceux qui sont abandonnés.
Oman est un des grands producteurs de résine d'encens. Les brûleurs d'encens sont partout, du plus simple en terre au plus précieux en argent ciselé...
L'hospitalité vous conduira à accepter aussi souvent un petit café, un "omani café", très léger, parfumé subtilement avec de la cardamome, pourquoi pas un peu de safran, et éventuellement un peu d'eau de rose.
J'ai ici représenté un homme dans l'habit commun usuel de tous les omanais : la dishdasha, majoritairement blanche (en semaine, en journée, la couleur est davantage pour le soir ou le vendredi et le samedi). Même si l'on voit des hommes habillés à l'occidentale, ils sont très peu nombreux. La dishdasha blanche est vraiment l'habit commun partagé par tous les hommes. La dishdasha, qui n'a pas de capuche, se distingue par un petit pompon accroché au col, la furakha, qu'on imbibe de parfum. Et croyez moi, les omanais en abusent! "ça sent le pompon" est une expression qui est maintenant passée dans notre langage commun, à mon mari et moi.
Autre incontournable de la tenue masculine, la kuma, ce petit couvre-chef rond, la plupart du temps blanc rehaussé de motifs aux couleurs vives. Le keffieh est aussi porté (mais sans le cordon appelé agal dans les pays arabes), et il est plutôt arboré par ceux dont les racines sont dans le désert, de ce que j'en ai compris.
Et les femmes, me direz vous? Voilées, pour certaines en noir intégral (mais pas la burka, plutôt le chador + Abaya), du fait de l'influence de l'Arabie et des émirats arabes unis, alors que le vêtement traditionnel était auparavant plutôt une superposition de robes très colorées. La plupart des femmes que nous avons vues portaient plutôt une tenue neutre, un voile uni sur les cheveux, mais le visage découvert. Nous avons vu aussi beaucoup de saris et de voiles colorés, il ne faut pas oublier que 40% de la population est constituée d'immigrants indiens, népalais, bengalais, qui travaillent beaucoup dans le tourisme, l'hôtellerie et la restauration, les services, mais aussi tous les travaux ouvriers.
Je précise qu'en tant que touriste il n'y a aucune pression pour porter un voile, jamais de regards désapprobateurs d'aucune sorte. Bien sûr, on gardera pour la terrasse de l'hôtel les mini shorts, les décolletés plongeants, les épaules et ventres dénudés, mais j'ai envie de dire que c'est pareil pour les hommes et les femmes et que le soleil étant vif c'est aussi meilleur pour la peau.
Voici pour cette introduction ! Au prochain post, je vous parlerai de mon itinéraire et on pourra se lancer!
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
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.
Bonjour tout le monde, nous voici rentrés d'un RT USA organisé par nos soins du 31/07/2026 au 26/08/2026.
La destination : Le Sud-Ouest USA avec le Texas, l'Arizona et le Nouveau-Mexique. 7000 kilomètres effectués à la louche.
L'Auto : Une Chevrolet Equinoxe pour deux en passant par BSP Auto et Avis. Et dedans 2 valises, un sac de voyage, deux valises cabines, la glacière de chez Walmart, le matos photos et les bouteilles d'eau (pack de 40).
Le trajet : Dallas DFW, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Alpine, El Paso, Tucson, Sedona, Albuquerque, Amarillo et Dallas pour finir avec départ sur DFW.
Les voyageurs : Deux séniors bien avancés dans l'âge (73 et 75) mais toujours en activité (pas épuisante physiquement) (pour rester vivants et financer les voyages), autonomes physiquement à 100%, intellectuellement beaucoup moins, passionnés des USA, pays où tout est possible, plus marcheurs que randonneurs, plutôt hôtels à partir de 3 étoiles que motels de bord de route, plutôt restos Italiens que nourriture US, adeptes des arrêts fréquents pour les photos, plutôt musées que rien, Plutôt sieste que marches forcées. Pas trop râleurs, juste ce qu'il faut pour rester français au pays du grand Satan qu'ils disent.
Pas trés doués pour les langues, Anglais des rues (mais bien pratique), Espagnol nul pour moi hormis : " Hola ! Una Cerveza por Favor ! " Cela fait court. Madame comprend tout mais refuse de parler.
Le coût du RT : Environ 12 000 euros avec les vols AF, Auto, Essence, cadeaux, visites et tutti quanti. Bien maitrisé puisque 13500 euros prévus au départ.
Le bilan positif : Un régal avec les longues routes à perte de vue. Des Musées à découvrir. Le constat de la présence Hispanique et de son Histoire importante dans ce secteur de l'Amérique. Des locaux adorables. Des touristes plus ou moins sympas. Un accent Texan abominable et difficile à comprendre. Des stations Gas qui sont de véritables magasins avec nourriture préparée et autre alcools vendus en Arizona et Nouveau-Mexique et des employés au top ! Toujours prêts à rigoler !
Le bilan négatif : La chaleur tout au long du séjour...43° sur Dallas en fin de séjour. Impossible de sortir dans les rues. Beaucoup de "Homeless" dans les rues de l'Hyper Centre de Dallas. Les breakfasts Hôtel toujours les mêmes. On s'y fait.
Donc, positif certes mais le concept commence à fatiguer. Il se pourrait que le modèle RT autonome soit repensé pour le prochain. SI celui qui est en haut nous prête vie.
Pour la suite, attendons les premières photos triées et passées à la moulinette.
C’est une ville ancienne qui respire, c’est une source qui vit.
Ici, pas de pancartes kitsch du genre « Tu me manques à Fengyu », ni de faux objets anciens fabriqués à la chaîne.
Les maisons centenaires portent encore les traces du vent et de la pluie；le matin, on entend les coqs chanter，et au crépuscule, la fumée s’élève doucement des cuisines.
Cette ville n’essaie de plaire à personne：comme l’eau de source qui la traverse, elle continue simplement de vivre, à son propre rythme.
Située dans le comté d’Eryuan, dans la préfecture de Dali au Yunnan, la ville ancienne de Fengyu est classée ville historique et culturelle nationale. On la surnomme la « terre des lettrés et de l’encre »：sous la dynastie Qing, l’académie Fengxiang a formé quatre jinshi et onze juren aux examens impériaux. Les familles bai y ont fait de l’étude et du travail de la terre un véritable héritage. Même les jours de marché, on y trouve des étals de calligraphies et de peintures, tandis que les linteaux et les murs-écrans sont couverts de maximes familiales.
Fengyu était aussi une étape importante de l’ancienne route du thé et des chevaux. Elle conserve le deuxième plus grand ensemble architectural bai de Chine, juste après Xizhou. Le célèbre voyageur Xu Xiake y a passé sept jours et l’a comparée au « paradis des fleurs de pêcher ».
After as many weeks as I have fingers on my right hand, we're hitting the road again, fully recovered from our pharaonic adventure. Back in France to drop off our daughters (sorry, girls!), this time it's just the two of us, ready to be welcomed by a new destination. They say it offers one of the richest cultural heritages in the world for those willing to put in the effort. It's the land of the ancient Silk Road, where we'll follow a journey steeped in history and discoveries straight out of *One Thousand and One Nights*. A former Soviet bloc region independent only since 1991, we'll be walking in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Alexander the Great, Marco Polo...
Another fun fact about this country: it's strictly forbidden to import porn on your phone. True story. The same goes for painkillers! Unless it's about sodomy—though the two don’t seem connected, that’s just how it is. Don’t ask me why! Anyway, I’m getting off track. Here’s the big question: Where do you think we’ve just landed?... To give you a hint, the locals are known for being incredibly welcoming. No sooner said than done—our first taxi driver, proud to transport French travelers, refused to let us pay for the ride. Great vibes for these two weeks ahead. So, any guesses?
Uzbekistan!!!
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area).
In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
Le dernier carnet sur le Turkménistan date de 2019. Voici donc un court retour sur ce vaste pays désertique qui se visite un peu plus facilement qu'auparavant.
C'est mon premier carnet. Si vous avez des questions, n'hésitez pas. Le pays s'ouvre lentement mais il est possible de visiter des sites où vous serez tout seul. En 5 jours, j'ai vu 2 hongkongais, quelques allemands et un chilien au cratère, 10 chinois dans un bazar de la capitale, et c'est tout !
Il est possible de visiter le Turkménistan depuis l'Ouzbékistan. Le plus simple et le plus économique est de se rendre en taxi jusqu'à la frontière depuis Boukhara. Le trajet prend un peu plus d'une heure.
Le passage de la frontière est assez long puisque de nombreux Turkmènes ramènent des objets achetés en Ouzbékistan afin de pouvoir les revendre au Turkménistan. Par exemple des couches, des produits pour bébés ou des produits de beauté.
Il m'a fallu plus de 2h30 pour franchir la frontière. Il est obligatoire pour visiter le Turkménistan d'avoir un guide et de passer par une agence de voyage. Les agences britanniques proposent souvent des séjours de trois, cinq ou sept jours à plus de 1 500 ou 2 000 euros.
Mais si votre budget est plus limité, il vous suffit de contacter quelques agences turkmènes directement par mail qui vous feront une proposition entre 700 et 1 300 euros pour trois à sept jours. J'ai pris un séjour de 5 jours de Turkmenabat dans le Nord-Est du pays jusqu'à Dashoguz dans le Nord. L'objectif est de visiter les principaux sites classés à l'Unesco, dont Merv, et les sites archéologiques comme Nisa ou Gonur Tepe.
Votre guide sera également le chauffeur. Il viendra vous chercher à la frontière. Les formalités sont très longues car les douaniers doivent multiplier les tampons et l'obtention du visa que vous avez préalablement demandé à votre agence de voyage nécessite plusieurs contrôles. Mais le passage se fait relativement aisément même si chaque étape est assez longue.
Une fois de l'autre côté, première surprise, l'autoroute est très récente jusqu'à Turkmenabat. Une très longue file de camions s'étend sur plusieurs kilomètres du côté turkmène afin de pouvoir passer la frontière et aller en Ouzbékistan. En effet, selon mon guide, les camions turkmènes transportent du gaz, du coton (pas à cette saison puisque la récolte a lieu en septembre), mais ont surtout un réservoir plein car le prix du carburant est beaucoup moins cher au Turkménistan. Un plein pour une voiture vaut à peu près 3 euros, ce qui est défiant toute concurrence.
Depuis le poste frontière de Farap, l'objectif est d'atteindre la ville de Mary qui abrite dans sa banlieue, à une trentaine de kilomètres, le site classé à l'UNESCO de Merv. Cette cité est connue comme étant une fondation d'Alexandre le Grand au IVe siècle avant Jésus-Christ sous le nom d'Alexandrie de Margiane. Plusieurs forteresses sont visibles.
Après plus de trois heures de route, nous déjeunons dans un restaurant turc qui s'appelle Aladdin. Plusieurs citations du président sont visibles sur l'autoroute, mais la route est de qualité et on avance aisément. Ce sera de loin la meilleure route du pays. ça se gâtera largement par la suite.
Les ronds-points sont particulièrement intéressants puisqu'on y retrouve des emblèmes de la culture turkmène, soit le chien, soit un tapis, soit le cheval Ahal Teke soit des symboles musulmans, même si la présence d'artefacts islamiques est assez réduite.
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
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...
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Our first stop was just a few kilometers from Marrakech, at a lovely house perfect for relaxing and recharging before continuing. It’s called Bleu House, a little paradise on the outskirts of Marrakech. The welcome was very warm, with a beautiful pool and a lovely garden.
Next, we headed toward the Tichka Pass. The road has really improved in recent years—it’s much easier to drive now. No more getting stuck behind trucks, and today, the construction is practically finished.
Morocco has turned green after the recent rains. It’s a joy for the herds and shepherds.
When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”
This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...
Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.
Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!
La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.
Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.
Some practical info:
- The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side.
- We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €.
- The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen.
- Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day.
- Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.
Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!
If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!
Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with:
Zero preparation.
Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.
Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?
The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!
The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.
So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!
So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!
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
Il arrive souvent qu'on nous demande quoi visiter en Belgique .
Et les réponses ramènent le plus souvent à Bruges , Gand, Anvers et Bruxelles , avec raison , ces villes valant la peine d'être visitées 😉 .
Toutefois, la Belgique, bien que petite , ne se limite pas à ces 4 villes .
J'habite l'une d'entre elles ( Bruxelles) , passe avec plaisir du temps dans les trois autres , mais j'ai envie d'aborder d'autres coins moins connus , qui pourront compléter le séjour de ceux qui ont envie d'en voir un peu plus , ou de voir autre chose .
C'est qu'entre deux voyages , j'aime bien visiter l'un ou l'autre coin du pays où j'habite .
D'où l'idée d'un carnet de balades .
La plupart des endroits dont je vais parler peuvent être visités en faisant l'aller-retour le même jour , au départ de Bruxelles , que ce soit en transports en commun ou en voiture .
Dans l'ordre chronologique des sujets abordés :
- Le barrage de la Gileppe ( province de Liège) -message 2 , page 1
- Le domaine de La Hulpe ( Brabant wallon ) - message 3 , page 1
- Malines ( province d'Anvers ) message 4 , page 1
- La côte - message 5 , page 1
- Le Westhoek , au départ de La Panne - message 6 , page 1
- Le Zwin, au départ de Knokke - message 7 , page 1
- Lier ( entre Malines et Anvers ) - message 8 , page 1
- Mons (Hainaut) - message 9 , page 1
- La région de Florenville . - message 12 , page 1
- Les Cantons de l'Est - message 13 , page 1
- Dinant - message 18 , page 1
- Le jardin japonais d'Hasselt - message 24 , page 2
- Louvain message 29 , page 2
- Louvain-la-neuve - message 32 , page 2
- Ostende - message 42 (page 3) et message 166 (page 9)
- Les floralies de Grand-Bigard . - message 43 , page 3
- Le bois de Halle -message 44 , page 3
- Les pralines - message 54 , page 3
- Charleroi - message 68 , page 4
- Namur - message 92 , page 5
- Le Bois du Cazier ( Marcinelle) - message 95 , page 5
- Les couques et les gozettes - message 96 , page 5
- Liège - message 99 , page 5
- Tournai - message 115 , page 6 .
- Audenarde ( Oudenaarde ) - message 121, page 7
- Jardin botanique de Meise - message 124, page 7 .
- Tongres ( Tongeren ) - message 125 , page 7 .
- Château de Beersel ( Brabant flamand) - message 126, page 7 .
- Bruxelles confinée ( messages 150 et 154 , page 8 )
- L'hôpital Notre Dame à la Rose , à Lessines ( messages 161 et 162 , page 9 ) .
- Westende ( message 167, page 9)
je complète cette liste au fur et à mesure de l'avancement du carnet ...
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style.
All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert.
However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about it.
I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.
I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guardians for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course.
Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious.
Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons.
That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though? Much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been full of holes for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and enormous beast with its own garden. Yet it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water there for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not just for fun—these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rental options kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!
The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan?
Not in the end.
The south or not the south?
Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or go with the flow?
Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela about this destination (the guide has been updated since).
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You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek!
(Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
You’ll find here a post with some practical information.
And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.
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As a supplement, the route track.
Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...
January 2026
Here we go again for new adventures and the pleasure of sharing them with you here! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me with the preparations, even with some last-minute improvisations just days before departure. Thanks to Montagnard74, Jojoone1, Songsam, Attila, Dennis2, NadegerFERM, and the authors whose travel journals about Laos inspired me (Montagnard74, Muriel18, Mavietongs...).
In this story, written by Richard and illustrated by me, we’ll tell you about the journey of four friends: Catherine, Richard, Nathalie, and Bruno. A reinvented but overall successful trip, filled with discoveries and surprises, the scents of spices and frangipani flowers, (too) spicy food, sunsets, and... one big mess.
I’d been wanting to discover Sulawesi for years. But then life happened—COVID, the cost of flight tickets, you name it. Long story short, years went by, but we finally set off as a family for a three-week trip in southern Sulawesi: Rammang Rammang, Rantepao, Sengkang, Bira, and Selayar.
I like to spend a good amount of time in the places I visit, giving myself the chance to really get to know the area and meet locals. So no island-hopping this time—just the south. But when I say "just," it’s not restrictive at all, given how rich this island is in landscapes, little encounters, and magical moments.
Wednesday 07/08 - Thursday 07/09:
We left Montpellier for what was supposed to be five flights, though we only took four to start, landing in Jakarta.
We picked up our luggage there to catch a flight to Makassar the next day. That’s the only way we could get an affordable ticket (702 €).
I won’t bore you with the flight details—there’s not much to say. We arrived at 7 PM and considered heading straight to Makassar that evening. But we opted for a recovery night before taking off again. Good thing we did, because my son’s suitcase was missing...
First contact with the locals was a bit stressful—a trip without your luggage isn’t exactly fun. But right away, a woman reassured us: the suitcase was just enjoying some extra time in Singapore. Maybe it was doing some last-minute shopping. Anyway, nothing serious—it was supposed to arrive at 9 AM the next day. That gave us some breathing room since our flight wasn’t until noon.
So off we went to our hotel (Days Hotel & Suites) near the airport. It was cheap (40 € for three rooms—my kids are older and need their space), but it wasn’t worth much more. The place had definitely seen better days. But no big deal—we were only there for the night, and... we got to watch France beat Morocco in the World Cup live at 3 AM. That’s what really mattered!
Friday 07/10: In search of the lost suitcase
First challenge of the morning: finding our missing suitcase. They sent us to the airport basement, to the staff entrance. We were greeted with smiles, and an airport employee led me through the underground corridors back to the baggage claim. Right on time at 9 AM, the suitcase arrived, just like they’d promised. We were finally complete!
Off we went to change terminals, grab a well-deserved meal, and board our fifth flight to Makassar.
Little side note: I struggled for a while trying to book domestic flights directly on the airlines’ websites with no luck. Without meaning to advertise (though I guess I am a little), I realized it’d be easier to use sites like tiket.com or Traveloka. That turned out to be a great choice—I even ended up booking hotels through them later in the trip.
12:40 PM: We were on our way to Makassar. First good news: we were the only tourists. Well, the only European tourists on the flight, anyway.
No, you’re not dreaming—the bag is full of... potato chip packets.
To each their own souvenirs, I guess...
When we arrived in Makassar, a driver was waiting to take us straight to Rammang Rammang: 250,000 IDR (12 €) to our guesthouse (Rammang Rammang House). Forget about meeting people on the bus—we were headed straight to the first stop of our trip, and it was already stunning.
My kids’ guesthouse:
Ours:
View of the little lake:
But not everything is straightforward around here.
I wanted to get a local SIM card for internet and calls. I found them expensive at Jakarta’s airport (20 € for 20 GB), so I decided to wait. Well, no luck in Rammang Rammang either. You can’t just buy one from the local shop—you need a Telkomsat store (they have the best coverage). So we’d have to wait for Rantepao to get Wi-Fi... When I say "local shop," I mean the little shack around the corner. No big deal—we’d find one easily in Rantepao for 5 € and 25 GB. So there we were, offline, just the four of us enjoying the amazing view.
Saturday 07/11: Rammang Rammang
We woke up early to the sound of wedding music blasting through the village (everyone’s invited!). Off we went to explore the area.
A little walking, a little boat ride (shared with a French tourist and a Polish one—yes, there *are* tourists here, just not many; 750,000 IDR for up to 8 people) through a lovely canal, and we discovered the karst site. It was peaceful and beautiful.
The river:
The karst site:
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)
Okay, Palermo—we know it. We go there to marvel at the architectural wonders born from the Arab-Norman-Byzantine-Gothic mix. And rightly so. We also go to treat our taste buds to all kinds of delights, both savory and sweet. Again, rightly so. We go to succumb to the charms of Palermo’s women, their sun-kissed skin glowing with golden highlights. Still, rightly so. And all while fantasizing about a mafia we’ll never actually see. Anyway.
But you’ll also find street art everywhere, even in the historic center. Sometimes, you just need to step a few meters away from the main tourist highways like Cassaro, Via Maqueda, or the main arteries of the Ballarò, Capo, or Vucciria markets to stumble upon some amazing murals. Duck into one or two slightly grimy alleys, weaving past trash and crumbling walls, and you’ll find real gems.
For example, just 50 meters south of the main artery of the Mercato del Capo, there’s a great spot with dozens of murals in a tiny neighborhood of run-down mini-houses. You’ll find plenty more south of the Mercato di Ballarò, in the Albergheria (the grittier side, not the one near Cassaro). There’s some in Ballarò itself too, but it’s hard to spot when the market’s in full swing with stalls everywhere. La Kalsa isn’t left out either, nor is Vucciria—just step away from the restaurant-packed streets.
Here are a few examples that really caught my eye.
(In the heart of Albergheria, on a street every visitor walks down—lovely message from an unidentified artist)
We landed in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, and headed straight to Kasane in Botswana to pick up our car.
Our vehicle is a 4x4 because in Zambia, it's practically impossible to use anything else, especially in the national parks. I’ve already had the pleasure of visiting South Luangwa National Park—it’s one of the reasons for this trip, the main one being to travel in Africa with one of my sons.
First stop: Livingstone on the banks of the Zambezi River. Along the way, we discovered a lovely restaurant at Socrates with a super-friendly owner (we’ll actually stop there again on our way back). We spent our first night in the rooftop tent after a stunning sunset, accompanied by the grunting of hippos in the river.
The next day, we set off early, heading to Kafue NP. In fact, we’ll always leave early—waking up between 5:00 and 5:30 AM and hitting the road an hour later. Kafue is a lesser-known park, mostly forested, and the animals are skittish because they’re not used to human presence. We crossed the park from south to north and came across various antelopes. Near Lake Itezhi-Tezhi, there are plains where wildlife is easier to spot.
After Kafue, we headed to South Luangwa. This journey requires stops in Mumbwa and Petauke. Two pleasant stops where we found lodges (a nice change from the rooftop tent) at affordable prices and met welcoming people.
For me, South Luangwa is Zambia’s most beautiful park—the river is stunning, the landscapes are gorgeous, and there’s a wide variety of wildlife, including, of course, big cats. A tip for those, like us, who aren’t with a guide: if you’re staying near the park for several days, don’t hesitate to do a "game drive" to scout out where the animals are so you can return the next day with your own vehicle. Of course, in the dry season, you’ll want to focus on waterholes to see the animals—and you’ll need a bit of luck too. The elephant population is growing, and we were lucky enough to see around sixty elephants crossing the Luangwa at dawn, spread across several groups. South Luangwa is the westernmost point of our trip, and we’re now heading east to Lower Zambezi.
Lower Zambezi is Zambia’s side of Mana Pools on the Zimbabwe side. We took a boat ride on the Zambezi to see elephants, hippos, crocodiles, and a multitude of birds living along the water and on the river’s islands. The sunset there is also magnificent.
To explore the park, we followed the waterways parallel to the Zambezi, mostly on the western side (see our route). Lower Zambezi is the last park we visit, and the final leg of our trip will be Victoria Falls.
Victoria Falls—or Mosi-Oa-Tunya ("The Smoke That Thunders")—are truly impressive, even during the dry season. We saw the falls from both countries: in Zambia for the overall view and the bridge that serves as the border, and in Zimbabwe to get as close as possible to the most spectacular parts of the falls.
This marks the end of our trip, which, despite a blown tire on the road, went off without any major issues. Zambia is a beautiful country that immerses you in wild, still-preserved nature.
From Southern Shikoku, between land and sea, to the blue waters of Miyakojima and finally Tokyo’s megacity
Hi everyone,
I have to admit, I really hesitated before deciding to write this travel journal... Writing one takes a lot of time and energy, and since this is my 4th trip, I wondered if it would actually interest anyone other than myself (both for the discovery and the writing). But after a few "Are you going to write a journal?" requests and especially the renewed pleasure from reading other travelers’ travel journals about Japan or elsewhere on this forum or elsewhere, I’ve decided to share this 4th installment in the Land of the Rising Sun here.
The itinerary:
27 full days, from late May to late June 2025, right in the middle of the rainy season, including:
-->13 days in Shikoku, from Kochi (Kochi Prefecture) to Matsuyama (Ehime Prefecture)
-->7 days in Miyakojima (Okinawa Prefecture)
-->7 days in Tokyo
The trip was decided on fairly last-minute this year, as usual.
I regularly check flight prices to track fluctuations for this destination, even without concrete plans. Finding a slightly cheaper direct flight (900 €) than what I’d seen in previous months (around 1,200–1,400 € on average) for a Paris-Tokyo route with Japanese airline ANA was too tempting to resist the urge to return to this enchanting country. After long hesitations between exploring the San’in region (Matsue, Tottori, Yamaguchi) and southern Shikoku, the decision was made—I took the plunge! The tickets are booked: Paris to Kochi with a layover in Tokyo, all with ANA, the airline I’d been dreaming of... for 1,120 € per person. Okay, it’s not cheap, but it’s still better than in 2023.
We leave in 2 weeks!! Now it’s just a matter of getting everything ready!
Intense work ahead in these 2 weeks to:
finalize a more precise itinerary and reach an agreement—yep, because even though we both love Japan, our preferences differ slightly, and we have to choose between exploring new places or taking time to revisit beloved spots...
decide how much time to spend in each selected area without rushing while still exploring
research places that might interest us and watch videos about Japan
book accommodations: yes, it’s possible to do this on the spot as we go, but last year, we noticed that last-minute options were pretty expensive, so we’re booking ahead—even if it means keeping a few options open while we decide or see if better deals pop up later
reserve rental cars
order yen
check the weather regularly and wonder if choosing the *tsuyu* (rainy season) was really a good idea—and whether we’ll be stuck in non-stop rain???
What a tough job, right? Traveling to Japan for a month—such a hard life!
Despite this being my 4th trip, the excitement is just as intense as the first time.
The only small downside is that when we booked the flight tickets, there were only a few seats left, so we’re only sitting together on the international return flight. Plus, on the outbound flight, we’ve got the middle seats.
Another lingering question: what French-language films will be available? According to the internet, the selection seems limited.
Oh well, these are just minor details—it’s almost time to fly!
PS: I’ll be posting slowly and irregularly... so for those interested, be patient or maybe set an alert...
Before Our Departure
Preparing for this trip started 9 months before our departure in June. For those planning a similar itinerary, it’s important to book accommodations well in advance, especially in the Okavango and Savuti campsites—otherwise, you might not find any availability.
Introduction
After visiting Zambia three years ago and Namibia and western Botswana a year and a half ago, this year we chose Zimbabwe (Hwange NP) and the northern half of Botswana.
Our flight from Paris was to Victoria Falls with Ethiopian Airlines, with a layover in Addis Ababa. We rented a 4x4 from Bushlore in Kasane, complete with two rooftop tents since there are four of us on this adventure. Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4 and, most importantly, gave us a rundown of the vehicle and its equipment. Pay close attention to what they tell you—it could be crucial if something goes wrong, as it did for us during the trip.
Our Itinerary
We arrived on June 12th at noon. At Victoria Falls Airport, we got our double-entry visa right away—I’d already pre-booked it online on the site https://www.evisa.gov.zw/.
Since our vehicle was in Botswana, we had to cross the border from Victoria Falls into Botswana for the first time.
The next morning, Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4. After completing the formalities, we headed toward Zimbabwe and the town of Victoria Falls.
We woke up early the next morning to be at Victoria Falls at sunrise. The scenery was stunning, but since it was the start of the dry season, the Zambezi was still high, so the falls had a strong flow. This made it hard to fully appreciate their beauty.
In the early afternoon, we left for Hwange NP, where we stayed for 4 days. Two days at Gwango campsite near Dete, followed by two days at Robins Camp. We expected to see more animals at Robins, but that wasn’t the case. In Hwange, we didn’t spot any predators, but we did see plenty of mammals (buffalo, elephants, giraffes, zebras, and antelopes).
After a few days in Zimbabwe, we crossed back into Botswana at Pandamatenga. We stopped at Nata Lodge for a good night’s rest—driving on the dirt roads is exhausting.
We left Nata and headed toward Nxai Pan. The road was sandy but manageable. We made a small detour to admire some beautiful baobabs at "Baines Baobabs." Then we continued to our campsite, Nxai Pan South Camp. Keep in mind that many campsites in Botswana aren’t fenced (except for the shower/toilet areas), so animals can roam freely within the camp. Take precautions, especially after dark.
After our stop in Nxai Pan, we headed to Maun. We decided to break our journey in Maun before heading to Moremi and the Okavango Delta for three reasons: first, we needed to stock up on supplies and fuel for the next 5 days; second, our fridge had broken (luckily, Bushlore has a branch in Maun); and third, the drive from Nxai to our camp in Xakanaxa in the delta would’ve taken too long. I always avoid driving after dark.
We arrived at our Xakanaxa camp on June 21st in the early afternoon. Not wanting to waste time, we booked a boat ride on the Okavango Delta, leaving at 4:00 PM for a 2-hour sunset cruise. For those interested, to the right of the Xakanaxa X1 site, there’s a sign for boat rides. The organizer is very professional and offers prices that are nothing like those of the lodges.
It was a beautiful ride through the delta with a stunning sunset. Being on a boat is much more relaxing than driving on the dirt roads. That didn’t stop us from doing self-drive safaris the next morning and late afternoon, though.
Then came the time to leave the delta and head toward Savuti, a much drier region. And that’s when the toughest part of our trip began. First, we decided to go up via Khwai. The rainy season was over, but the area was still marshy. We had to cross a few small water patches, testing the depth to make sure we could get through. Luckily, a sign on the road pointed us toward a drier route. We reached Khwai without any issues, but then we made a major mistake. Instead of taking the main track toward Mababe Gate to reach Savuti Camp, we took a straight path north and then a right turn to get to our camp. Bad call—we got stuck in the sand, with one rear wheel buried halfway and a front wheel off the ground. We were genuinely scared we wouldn’t get out, especially since we were on a deserted track, 20 kilometers from our destination, with night falling in two hours. This is where paying attention to the vehicle instructions really paid off—we had to use the jack to get out of the mess. The result: we arrived at Savuti campsite just before dark (Distance: 146.3 km, Duration: 9 hours, 56 minutes, and 3 seconds, Average speed: 14.7 km/h, tracked with Osmand). At reception, the staff couldn’t understand how we’d gotten there—we hadn’t passed through any of Savuti’s reserve entry gates.
The next morning, no one felt like driving, so we did a game drive with a guide. I don’t know if it was some kind of reward, but the outing was amazing. We saw three lions and, best of all, a pack of African wild dogs that we had time to admire and photograph. The next day, we did a short self-drive and found one of the lions from the day before drinking at a waterhole. That was the end of our Savuti adventure.
Now we’re heading to Kasane. We returned our vehicle and settled in for our last two nights there. The next morning, since we no longer had a car, we decided to do one last early-morning game drive in Chobe NP. It turned out great—we followed two brother lions and saw plenty of other mammals. The only downside of Chobe is the number of tourists, which was a change from the other parks we’d visited. That said, we’re tourists too, so...
In the evening, we took one last boat ride on the Chobe River to end on a high note with a beautiful sunset.
After a good night’s sleep and plenty of wonderful memories, landscapes, animals, and emotions, it was time to leave. We left early in the morning with the same taxi company as before to cross the border into Zimbabwe one last time and head to the airport, where we took off to return to France.
We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?
This travel journal aims to help future travelers (well, I hope so!), since there’s so little information available about this remote archipelago. Big thanks to Lolodesiles and Ayis for answering my questions while I planned this trip!
Context
This is our fourth trip to Indonesia as a couple—after Java-Bali in 2011, Flores-Komodo in 2013, and Sulawesi in 2016—each time for three weeks. It’s also our tenth trip to Southeast Asia overall.
We’re traveling like we have in previous years: with a rough itinerary that often changes based on who we meet, tips from other travelers, how tired we are, or what we’re feeling in the moment. In the Moluccas, it’ll change constantly, mostly depending on transportation.
Our only accommodation booking: the first few nights in Ambon when we arrive.
Planned route (to be refined on the spot): Ambon - Banda Islands - Lease Islands - Ternate - Tidore - Halmahera (between Sofifi and Tobelo) - Morotai and the neighboring unnamed archipelago.
Flights: Lyon-Paris-Singapore on Air France (428 € round-trip), with good meals, champagne, and wine (we like our little comforts when going on vacation 😏). Then Singapore-Jakarta-Ambon on Air Asia and Garuda.
Return flight: Ternate-Jakarta-Singapore on Lion Air, with a 3-day stopover in Singapore before heading home.
Episode 1: Ambon to Banda
Our guesthouse, booked two days before departure, is 45 minutes from Ambon Airport, near Natsepa Beach (northeast of Leihitu). It’s a pretty average beach—quiet on weekdays but packed on Sundays (we saw the difference). It’s lined with warungs.
This rainy day helps us readjust to the atmosphere of this country we love so much.
Our “Solim Guesthouse” is a lovely house with a living/dining room and garden, costing 15 € per night for two, including a hearty breakfast.
Dinner is at Gaba Gaba, a great restaurant just a short walk away, right by the water, recommended by our host. Fun fact: it’s in the Lonely Planet, and it might be the only LP-listed spot in the Moluccas that actually matches the description (the others either don’t exist or have nothing to do with what’s advertised 😠).
For the next two days, the super-friendly owner lends us his scooter. We set off to explore the coastal villages in northern Leihitu (the western part of Ambon Island, which has a weird shape).
Laundry and trucks washed in the same stream.
Liang Beach, described as the island’s most beautiful, is almost gone (climate change or something else?), but the colors are magical.
We continue 25 km toward a snorkeling spot our host recommended, taking a gorgeous, deserted little road through tiny villages in clove plantations (oh, those unforgettable scents!), stunning coves, and dense forest.
We’re greeted dozens of times with “Hello Mister”—a daily routine in the Moluccas. Every time we stop, we pose for photos to be saved on locals’ smartphones. They don’t see tourists often.
We ask for directions to the snorkeling spot (not easy—we only know basic Indonesian like *Selamat pagi*, *siang*, *sore*, and other polite phrases). Not many people know where it is (especially since we never know which village we’re in), but we eventually reach a small village that seems to be the right place. 🙂
We ask a local to take us there by boat (it’s not reachable by land).
The spot is at most 100 meters long, but the coral is in good condition (apparently not dynamited by fishermen, unlike in other parts of this beautiful country where fishing methods are destructive and nature pays the price 😠). The fish are plentiful and diverse. It’s a great start before heading to Banda. We’re happy to have the place to ourselves… though we don’t yet realize we won’t see a single tourist for the rest of the trip!
After two days of rest, we head to Tulehu Port in the morning, aiming for the Banda Islands. We know the journey is often tricky: the Pelni ferry runs twice a month but doesn’t match our dates, the 10-seat Suzi Air plane is always full (you can’t book—you have to show up on Mondays and Fridays), and it’s often canceled due to weather. So we opt for the Tuesday speedboat (which also gets canceled if there are waves or wind), with the next one on Saturday.
We’re used to Indonesian ports—crowded, rusty boats, no English speakers—but we still feel lost. When I ask about the speedboat to Bandaneira, people gesture wildly, someone takes me to the “harbor office,” then tells me there’s no boat, others try to sell me tickets, and some just say, “No boat.”
Luckily, an English-speaking local approaches us and confirms the speedboat is broken. The next one will be Saturday *if* it’s fixed—otherwise, even later. 🤪 😠
We’re crushed. We came here for the Banda Islands… 🙁
We decide waiting five days for a maybe-boat isn’t an option, so we decide to head straight to North Moluccas, which was planned for later. We’re so disappointed we don’t even want to stay in the area. The Lease Islands don’t appeal to us despite what we’ve read, and Seram would deserve its own trip with its remote mountain tribes.
Huge disappointment—we’d been dreaming of Banda for months, with its incredible drop-offs like Bunaken, its islands covered in nutmeg trees, etc. I’d read that Banda is in the world’s top 5, alongside Bunaken (amazing—we went in 2016), Komodo (incredible—we went in 2013), Sipadan, and another spot I’ve forgotten.
We take a taxi back to Ambon (45 minutes) to a travel agency to buy plane tickets to Ternate. There’s a daily ATR72 flight at noon—perfect timing.
Ambon is the capital of South Moluccas (or Central, depending on who you ask!) with 300,000 people. The city doesn’t seem unpleasant, but we don’t stop.
On the plane, there are only about ten passengers for 72 seats. The flight attendants are stunning, as always with Wings Air—clearly, they’re hired for their looks. 😊
Stopover in Bacan—a runway in the middle of coconut trees serving a tiny town—then we fly over countless volcanoes, the last one towering over Ternate.
Bonjour,
De retour sur le forum - et première rédaction d'un espèce de carnet de retour de notre 4ème voyage en Indo.
Contexte : une trentaine de jours, en scooter et en duo, sur Florès (et une petite incursion dans l'archipel de Solor, plus précisément à Lembata (chut, faut pas trop en parler !!!), qui donne envie d'en faire beaucoup plus là bas malgré les infrastructures sporadiques), en partie dans des destinations déjà bien connues du forum (la classique Ruteng / Bajawa / Riung / Moni voir baie de Maumere) ... et qui ne parlera pas du PN de Komodo ou de Wae Rebo, puisque nous n'y sommes pas allés 🏴☠️.
Texte en anglais (issu d'une autre plateforme). Sans nul doute, des traducteurs intelligents ou pas marcheront à merveille en cas d'anglophobie 🤪.
Disponible à toute fin utile pour des détails ou infos.
Equippement : Yam' Nmax 155 ; 2x saccoches cavalières (25L) + sac de selle (30L) + saccoche tunnel (15L pour le matos photo) ; casques et vêtements d'enduro amenés depuis la France.
Itinéraire : boucle depuis Labuan bajo jusqu'à Pulau Lembata ; juillet-août 2026
Road conditions graded from A (excellent) to D (very bad, at least for a Scooter… a CRF/KLX or even honda ADV would do better on that)
D1 : Labuan Bajo – Reok via Ranggoe, Rego & Tagol (130km ; 5hrs). Section LBajo – Rego (90 km ; B) is quite good tarmac, despite a lot of elevation with many small valleys and passes. Rego – Tagol (10km ; D) is a stone road (not gravel), some ascents & very poor condition ; necessary to lower tyre pressure. Tagol – Reok port (22km, quality depends considerably from D to B). Reok port – Towncenter : B. Night @Iffah Homestay (100k for fan room, mandi attached, no breakfast), simple but clean. Notes : path to danau Sano Limbung was closed ; access to Tiwu Pai & Wae Kuli (waterfalls) not permitted in july 2026.
D2 : Reok – Riung via Pota (105km ; 3h-3h30). The road is very narrow in some part, thanks to the uncut bushes (lowering visibility hence extra caution as animals/people can suddenly appear in a turn…) but generally good condition except many eroded sections and some unpaved ones. Grade C/B. 2 nights @Mentos (285k for AC room)
D3 : Boat tour in Riung (booked directly with a captain, 800k for two for private boat incl. lunch and NP fees) + sunset from Watu Mitong Riung (should not be missed).
D4 : Riung – Muku Saki via Mbay (around 100km ; 3h30). Quality varies from A in the vicinity of Mbay to eroded sections (C) in secluded places. Night @Sao Paolo Homestay (250k for fan room with mandi, maybe overpriced but nice house and great food). Note : if you happen to pass by Mbay on Saturday, the market is well worth a stop (cheapest Ikat on the trip : you’ll be asked normal prices providing you’re OK in Bahasa…)
D5 : Muku Saki – Tanjung Kajuwulu (near Ndete) (90km, 3h). Many patholes, eroded (C). Night at Déjà Vu Homestay (220k for a matress on the floor & outside mandi/toilets ; I woud define this as a tourist trap – the quote we had for food was double priced too…)
D6 : Tanjung Kajuwulu – Waiterang (east of Maumere, 55km , 1h30). Pathholes till maumere, then All good (TransFlores), C/A. Night at Sunset Cottage (new concrete room, very serene place ; 270k for AC with bathroom ; much prefered Sunset over Lena House (more customers, more built up).
D7 : Waiterang – Larantuka via Boru and Eputobi (TransFlores ; grade A ; 115km / 2h40). Particularly liked the drink stalls (marked as Rest Area Eputobi) and the out of order aquatic park just before Larantuka (obyej wisata waiplatin). Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay, which is not advertising itself as Larantuka Beach Homestay as some contributor signals here and on goole maps review. Best breakfast of the trip (Cumi Cumi !!!) ; 275k for AC room with bathroom.
D8 : Local Boat (Kapal Kayu) from the main port to Lembata (Lewoleba). Departure 8am ; price 60k/head + 50k for the bike. Stop enroute on Adonara (where we did not stop due to fights between communities). Night @Elmany Homestay (275k for AC room with bathroom, fan room with shared bathroom also available). Whole afternoon at Pantai Hadakewa, fantastic place (good snorkeling, great views of Ile Api aka Gn Lewotolo). Road condition : A (did not expect the TransLembata to be that good…).
D9 : Loop around Ile Api (50km, 2hrs), anticlockwise. Stops enroute at Situs Tulang Paus (whale squeletton), pantai Jotona, pantai Wena (we expected to snorkel from there, but wind was very strong that day), situs Watu Nale, Selat Sonia. The western coast is far less interesting. Road conditions : bad (C) on the eastern side (up to Riangbeda), good (B/A) afterwards. Night @Elmany Homestay.
D10 : Lewoleba – Lamalera via the western and south coast (70km, 2h30). Good road (B) for roughly the first 55km (up to Tapobali), then eroded track for the last 15km (in some parts steep and dangerous) up to Lamalera (D/C). Notes : 1/ Kuma resort denied us the entry for some drink ; 2/Pantai Waijarang « complex » is abandonned but closed with fences ; you can still sneak in ; 3/ some reports advise to skip Bukit Cinta (foreigner entry fee) for Bukit Doa Watomiten (stations of the cross) ; well Bukit Cinta has also been abandonned (well spent money…sic) but remains opened with structures falling (quickly) appart. Night @Lamalera Inn (200k per head including meals ; very basic fan room + attached mandi). Planned 2 nights, spent only one, as it’s the only tenant I had difficulties with (only interested in money, initially stated crazy prices, starts loud music at 6am … and drinking moke at 8am…)
D11 : Trip to Wulandoni for the Barter Market (Saturday only). Bad road (C) along the coast. Had to report at the Kantor upon arrival, which quite surprisingly asked 100k per person (foreigner) to go inside the (outside) market. Other « local » tourists (a group from Jakarta) were not asked to pay. Well, since a market is a public space and not a zoo, we refused payment and enjoyed the activity from the kopi stall next to it. Returned then to Lamalera for the catches of the day, then to Lewoleba via the mountain road (45km, 2 hours). First 10km to Puor is in very bad condition and uphill (D/C). The remaining is on a newly constructed road (A). Note : Air Panas Sabutobo is abandonned and falling apart (again…) but there are still some water pipes along the river that you can enjoy (depending how lucky you are, just with the forest sounds as companion). Night @Elmany Homestay
D12 : Chill day alond the northern coast (Batu Payung, Pantai Hadakewa with lot of snorkeling, drove till Wailolong and backtracked to Pantai Lewolein for more snorkeling (nice canyons there !) and another fantastic sunset over Ile Api (see GMaps pictures)). Night @Elmany Homestay
D13 : Monday weekly market at Pada, southwest of Lewoleba. Renowned but honnestly dont plan any itinerary specifically for it, just an ordinary Kampung weekly market. Returned to Larantuka and Flores with the 12pm local boat (the same boat that leaves from Larantuka at 8am). Same prices as the first leg. Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay
D14 : Larantuka – Waiterang along the northern coast (100km, 3h) via Pantai Kawaliwu, Tewuk Lewokluok (trail is easy to find, very nice snorkelling in a lagoon), Pantai Lato (to my opinion the most beautiful beach on Flores and you’ll be the only visitor, as opposed to Pantai Koka) and Pantai Hia, until rejoining the TransFlores near Nebe. Grade C on the costal eroded road / track. 3 nights @Lena Guesthouse (booked ahead as it fills up quickly, but we prefered its neighbour Sunset Beach Guesthouse)
D15 : Snorkeling trip organised by Lena Guesthouse (200k per head excluding NP fees and lunch)). The drop-off near Pulau Babi is a very nice spot.
D16 : scooter day trip around the Egon Range (too lazy to hike it…), through nice Sikka villages (route : Watublapi, Umauta, Bola, pantai Doreng, Nakatoli, foot of Gn Egon, Air panas Blidit). The track from Natakoli to the foot of Gn Egon is very steep, damaged and wet (with moss) ; I would recommend not to attempt that in case of bad weather.
D17 : Waiterang – Moni (130km, 3h30, transflores grade A/B) via Pantai Koka (refused to pay the mafia entry fee…) and Jopu (some rumah Adat Lio). Stopped at Museum Bikon Blewut, south of Maumere. Very nice artefacts (especially wooden statues from Papuan, great ikat collection) although very disorganized and sadly non-visited (hence masterpieces fall into oblivion). 2 Nights @Liahz Lodge (150k for fan room, basic bathroom… but right next to Air Panas Liasembe (free, no closing time) !!!).
D18 : Sunrise from Kelimutu with a nice weather (stayed until 8.30am). I don’t know if the sunrise is really worth it (lot of people ascending and watching the sunrise – a lot but nothing compared to e.g. Gn Bromo), nearly everyone going down around 7am, then there is virtually nobody. Trip (20km one way, good road B) to Kampung Adat Nggela (Lio). Although the village is habited and mostly out of the beaten path, I have mixed fillings due to the fact that most ladies (some are pushy) try to sell you (bad) pieces of ikat.
D19 : Moni – Ende via Detusoko paddy fields, Kampung Adat Saga (Lio) and Puncak Ndona ; 75km 2h30. We really liked Saga (nice setting on the mountain, friendly villagers, no selling, mix between traditional and more modern houses in that lively village). Sunset from Bukit Raja, on the peninsula with a 360 view on Gn Iya, Gn Meja Kota Ende and the mountains behind. Note : at the end of the road (search for Gunung Meja Tourist Info Center), there is a (sand) track leading to the path. 1/ only intend the track if you have off road driving experience ; 2/ dont trust the walking time stated by Maps.me. Took us 45mins on a steady pace to reach the summit. Night @Hoja Homestay, 300k for a comfortable AC room with bathroom.
D20 : Ende – Bajawa, via Air Panas Mengeruda ; grade A, 120km, 3 hours. Note : don’t plan to short in Mengeruda (Soa), very easy to spend a half day there, especially if playing with local kids. Stay @Cinnamon GH, 250k for double with fan and hot shower (cheaper options with shared hot shower availlable).
D21 : First day in Bajawa : Watu Nari Wowo (Avatar Hill, sic…), Kampung Adat Ngada Tololela & Gurusina (very very friendly people, complementary views of Gn Inerie & Wolo Deru). Sunset from Puncak Manulalu (well… Heaven’s door Bar & Restaurant)
D22 : Second day in Bajawa : Kampung Adat Ngio (hardly visited, best view on Gn Inerie), Air Panas Malanage, Kampung Adat Bena (the most visited Ngada village (after Bela ?) in the area, we went there at the end of the afternoon to avoid tours, early morning would be fine too), and Gunung Wolobobo for a terrific sunset
D23 : returned to Gunung Wolobobo for sunrise with Gn Ebulobo in the distance (search for a track on the eastern slope, near the communication antenna). You can circuit the rim to the usual viewpoint (westside, sunset spot), the path is easy to find. Then took again the road to Aimere, visiting Kampung Adat Belaraghi enroute (the setting is maybe less rewarding than all the previous villages). 56km ; 1h30. The road to Belaraghi is fine, except the final part.
D24 : Aimere – Ruteng (105km, 3h30). Nice detour by the paddy fields of Wodo (southwest of Golo Loni) of Sunset from Golo Curu (nice encounters with locals). Night @Tange GH, 130k for room with outside (private) bathroom, no breakfast.
D25 : Surroundings of Ruteng (paddy fields north and east of ruteng ; Maps.me has funny tracks starting from Kenda), and the rather pleasant city itself (pasar, churches, lapangan). We finally skipped Liang Bua.
D26 : Ruteng - Labuan Bajo (130km, 3h30). No visits of the waterfalls close to the TransFlores (entry fee (with bule prices) + mandatory guide etc…). Sunset from Bukit Hercadi with very few locals (Bukit Sylvia & Bukit Amelia, just south, were packed). 2 nights @Wellamas Homestay, away from the harbour and its advantages/disadvantages. 230k for comfortable AC room with hot shower.
D27 : New road to Golo Mori Convention Center (another big money well spent…), with nice views on the strait separating Flores from Pulau Rinca. Some empty beaches (e.g. Pantai Pasir Pajang ; we were there on a weekday perhaps frequented by people from LBajo only). 30km (40 mins) one way, perhaps the fastest road of Flores…
D28 : Morning on the peninsula north of Labuan Bajo before taking a flight to Jakarta in the afternoon. On Google maps, the asphalt road only goes to Teras Langit ; it now (august 2026) continues to Puncak Basok and is still in progress towards the eastern part of the peninsula. On the way back, two other nice Bukit where you can enjoy nice views on the bay (and the resorts…) : Bukit Lontar & Bukit Beta. Note : we only found one public (and nice and quiet) beach in the area ; tagged as Sunset Point Beach on Gmaps. All the rest was closed by fences ; they are privately owned (although the Indonesian consitution grants the coastline as public space).
We're a family of five: one dad, one mom, and three kids aged 10, 15, and 18.
Before diving into each stop in more detail, here are a few general thoughts:
We wanted to sample a bit of everything Japan has to offer in terms of landscapes, accommodation, and transport. We were after walks, temples, restaurants, shopping, and some downtime—but no "all-inclusive experiences" or museums for this first visit.
Three medium-sized (60x42x25) canvas suitcases, plus a duffel bag and a few small backpacks. 23 kg in the hold on the way out, 60 kg on the way back. 36 kg of shopping, without even trying. I think this is the maximum suitcase size if you don’t want to stress on the Shinkansen: they fit easily in the overhead racks.
Round-trip with Cathay Pacific, layover in Hong Kong: no need to collect luggage in Hong Kong—we checked it in at departure and picked it up in Tokyo, and the same on the way back (checked in Osaka, picked up at our final destination). This let us explore Hong Kong without worrying about our bags. Food and entertainment were pretty good—meals included a little Häagen-Dazs on each flight, and the entertainment had way more Asian cinema than you’d find on a Western airline, which was a nice way to see how much weight Western culture carries in Asia.
The original plan was to fly directly from Ishigaki to Hong Kong, but due to Typhoon Dolphin, we had to cancel the Ishigaki leg. Cathay didn’t bat an eye about swapping the Ishigaki-HK flight for an Osaka-HK one, even though it was twice as long.
We were a bit too attached to the idea of ending the trip with some beach time and replaced Ishigaki with Shirahama. It was a mistake—we should’ve visited Hiroshima or spent a little more time in Tokyo instead.
Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.
It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected.
Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel.
I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability.
So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.
I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:
Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras
Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya
Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat
Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott
Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou
To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog:
From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations
Street vendor.
The visit ends way too soon for our liking. We had a great morning. Angelo is a passionate Osaka local who wants to share and help people love his city. He succeeds perfectly. I really recommend it. After a few more tips, Angelo leaves us near several restaurants.
For lunch, we choose a Tonkatsu restaurant, a Japanese specialty with a special breadcrumb coating called panko, much lighter than our European breadcrumbs (www.cuisine-japon.fr/panko/). As always in Japan, the entire meal—dish and sides—is served on a tray.
The day flew by faster than we wanted, and we didn’t have time to explore the south of the island. We decide to head back to their place and arrive just in time to visit the « Teshima Yooko House », the result of a collaboration between architect Yuko Nagayama and painter Tadanori Yokoo. No photos allowed inside, so here’s the exterior, which gives a—very—vague idea. (For more photos, see here: 
We start with Minamidera, which houses « Backside of the Moon by James Turrell. Another interesting sensory experience. We enter in small groups. (A ticket system with a set time to arrive is in place. When we went, there were only a few people. The wait allowed us to visit the Ando Museum right next door.) We move forward in complete darkness through a corridor that effectively isolates the house from outside light. We sit down and wait. Little by little, our eyes begin to perceive what was invisible. Undoubtedly the best of the Houses of Honmura we visited.
A droite, le "marqueur" de l'accueil, ces dattes qu'on vous offre partout en signe d'hospitalité. A gauche, un hommage à ces sublimes portes usées par les temps, qu'on admire un peu partout dans les quartiers anciens, y compris ceux qui sont abandonnés.
L'hospitalité vous conduira à accepter aussi souvent un petit café, un "omani café", très léger, parfumé subtilement avec de la cardamome, pourquoi pas un peu de safran, et éventuellement un peu d'eau de rose.
J'ai ici représenté un homme dans l'habit commun usuel de tous les omanais : la dishdasha, majoritairement blanche (en semaine, en journée, la couleur est davantage pour le soir ou le vendredi et le samedi). Même si l'on voit des hommes habillés à l'occidentale, ils sont très peu nombreux. La dishdasha blanche est vraiment l'habit commun partagé par tous les hommes. La dishdasha, qui n'a pas de capuche, se distingue par un petit pompon accroché au col, la furakha, qu'on imbibe de parfum. Et croyez moi, les omanais en abusent! "ça sent le pompon" est une expression qui est maintenant passée dans notre langage commun, à mon mari et moi.
Autre incontournable de la tenue masculine, la kuma, ce petit couvre-chef rond, la plupart du temps blanc rehaussé de motifs aux couleurs vives. Le keffieh est aussi porté (mais sans le cordon appelé agal dans les pays arabes), et il est plutôt arboré par ceux dont les racines sont dans le désert, de ce que j'en ai compris.
Et les femmes, me direz vous? Voilées, pour certaines en noir intégral (mais pas la burka, plutôt le chador + Abaya), du fait de l'influence de l'Arabie et des émirats arabes unis, alors que le vêtement traditionnel était auparavant plutôt une superposition de robes très colorées. La plupart des femmes que nous avons vues portaient plutôt une tenue neutre, un voile uni sur les cheveux, mais le visage découvert. Nous avons vu aussi beaucoup de saris et de voiles colorés, il ne faut pas oublier que 40% de la population est constituée d'immigrants indiens, népalais, bengalais, qui travaillent beaucoup dans le tourisme, l'hôtellerie et la restauration, les services, mais aussi tous les travaux ouvriers.
Je précise qu'en tant que touriste il n'y a aucune pression pour porter un voile, jamais de regards désapprobateurs d'aucune sorte. Bien sûr, on gardera pour la terrasse de l'hôtel les mini shorts, les décolletés plongeants, les épaules et ventres dénudés, mais j'ai envie de dire que c'est pareil pour les hommes et les femmes et que le soleil étant vif c'est aussi meilleur pour la peau.
Voici pour cette introduction ! Au prochain post, je vous parlerai de mon itinéraire et on pourra se lancer!
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
Les ronds-points sont particulièrement intéressants puisqu'on y retrouve des emblèmes de la culture turkmène, soit le chien, soit un tapis, soit le cheval Ahal Teke soit des symboles musulmans, même si la présence d'artefacts islamiques est assez réduite.
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
A little sneak peek?
The karst site:
(In the heart of Albergheria, on a street every visitor walks down—lovely message from an unidentified artist)
Laundry and trucks washed in the same stream.
We’re greeted dozens of times with “Hello Mister”—a daily routine in the Moluccas. Every time we stop, we pose for photos to be saved on locals’ smartphones. They don’t see tourists often.
