Voyageurs solitaires, avez-vous déjà pleuré?
by Llllll
This discussion is in French, the community’s main language.
a tchao et bonne journée . en France en ce moment??? billie
ça dépend de si on peut dire que la Réunion est en France mais je ne pense pas qu'on puisse dire ça.
ça me parle, quand tu dis que tu trouve ta solitude agréable parmi les autres, Billie. c 'est agréable une tribu, une famille, un village, une meute... être avec les siens c 'est comme un lit douillet. c 'est chouette aussi de s'y retrouver seul, et de savoir que l'on peut les quitter à n'importe quel moment.
en fait, il vaut mieux être solitaire que esseulé!
bises.
ça dépend de si on peut dire que la Réunion est en France mais je ne pense pas qu'on puisse dire ça.
ça me parle, quand tu dis que tu trouve ta solitude agréable parmi les autres, Billie. c 'est agréable une tribu, une famille, un village, une meute... être avec les siens c 'est comme un lit douillet. c 'est chouette aussi de s'y retrouver seul, et de savoir que l'on peut les quitter à n'importe quel moment.
en fait, il vaut mieux être solitaire que esseulé!
bises.
non, La Réunion est dans l'océan indien c'est une île volcanique qui plus est..j'adore les volcans...
proche de l'Afrique a plein de niveaux .. un morceau d'Afrique ? oui ?
gentil ce que tu dis... gentil ... et je suis bien d'accord ; j'ai quitté ma tribu à 18 ans pour en rencontrer "ailleurs" , des tribus ........... solitaire , toujours, parmi eux
mais je n'ai jamais quitté une "île" pour aller vers les continents , plutôt l'inverse, est ce une sensation différente ?? je pense que oui . bises aussi billie
Et bien oui, plusieurs fois! Il faut dire que je n'attends pas forcément d'etre en voyage et seul pour cela... Sensibilité quand tu nous tiens! Une fois, lors de mon périple en solitaire qui me menait de Tanger (Maroc) à Dakar, sur ma moto, seul dans un paysage superbe. Tout était beau, le désert, ma moto, moi sans doute car j'étais heureux d'être là. Et puis j'ai eu une pensée pour mon ex, et les deux enfants... la séparation datait d'un an passé. On voyage loin, au bout du monde, mais on emmène toujours son coeur avec soi...
bonjour,
je m'immisce parmi vous...
la première fois que j'ai vu le désert... j'ai pleuré, et je me suis rappelé une phrase que j'avais entendu; regarder le desert c'est comme regarder à l'intérieur de soi (T. Monod? si quelqu'un sait?)
"regarder le desert c'est comme regarder à l'intérieur de soi"
Oui, quand on est vide 😛😎 😎
la première fois que j'ai vu le désert... j'ai pleuré, et je me suis rappelé une phrase que j'avais entendu; regarder le desert c'est comme regarder à l'intérieur de soi (T. Monod? si quelqu'un sait?)
"regarder le desert c'est comme regarder à l'intérieur de soi"
Oui, quand on est vide 😛😎 😎
Le ciel c'est comme la mer à l’envers,
Par dessus tout, c'est la joie qui m'en impose,
Et je vends ma sublime 500 Royal Enfield, qui se bronze à GOA !
Par dessus tout, c'est la joie qui m'en impose,
Et je vends ma sublime 500 Royal Enfield, qui se bronze à GOA !
Partage intéressant, plein d'émotion...
J'ai relativement pas mal voyagé, en Europe et en Asie, et j'ai pleuré 2 fois... en Chine...
après une magnifique rencontre...de douloureux adieux...une expérience du coeur
et la première fois que je suis entré dans une église, dans le Guangdong... Je ne connaissais personne, je ne comprenais pas un mot, je débarquais à peine... et pourtant c'était si beau que l'émotion a débordé. J'étais même fier de prier avec mes frères Chinois. La grâce de la prière...une expérience de l'âme
Merci à tous pour vos partages ! ^^
J'ai relativement pas mal voyagé, en Europe et en Asie, et j'ai pleuré 2 fois... en Chine...
après une magnifique rencontre...de douloureux adieux...une expérience du coeur
et la première fois que je suis entré dans une église, dans le Guangdong... Je ne connaissais personne, je ne comprenais pas un mot, je débarquais à peine... et pourtant c'était si beau que l'émotion a débordé. J'étais même fier de prier avec mes frères Chinois. La grâce de la prière...une expérience de l'âme
Merci à tous pour vos partages ! ^^
salut zen !
merci pour les liens 🙂
oui je pense qu'il s'agit des Hmongs et là d'après ce que j'ai lu, ils ne peuvent compter que sur leur diaspora !!
la communautée internationnale a d'autres " préoccupations " 🤪
il est bon parfois d'évoquer ici ces minoritées éthniques qui sonts en luttes pour leur survie ,
pour ceux à qui cela intéresse un petit détour sur le site de " survival "
merci pour eux .
L'impossible nous ne l'atteignons pas, mais il nous sert de lanterne.
René Char
xin chao les voyageurs !!! mise en garde a Ho Chi MInh ou Saigon Viet Nam. je suis au viet nam pour etudier le vietnamien depuis fin aout 2009 jusqu a debut mars 2010. J ai habite a l hotel Xinh, 185 / 14 Pham Ngu Lao. mon budget etait serrer alors j ai reserver et habitai pour supposement 7 mois , j avais meme tout ca par ecrit par un des proprio. Vers le 18 decembre , ils ont commencer par couper l electricite, couper leau chaude dans la douche et me tel pour me demander s il pleut dans ma chambre , il pleut effectivement dans les chanbres. j en ai eu 2. une fois ils m ont pris un matelas dans ma chambre. Bref l enfer , pour me faire expulser a 5 minutes d avis. et ils sont tres souriant, tres geentils, style occidental mais ne mettent pas d argent dans l hotel. pluie partout et problemes electric. Bref , une autre des proprio me dit , tu fais mieux de partir il a deja louer ta chambre a quelqu un. je l avais vu les jours precedents crier apres un couple et les demenager a l hotel a cote. ce qui arrive il prend des gens comme moi a long terme pour pas trop cher mais quand arrive la saison haute avec toutes les fetes qui se poursuivent pour plus d un mois , alors le cash qu il fait avec moi pour un mois il le recoit avec 3 ou 4 personnes il a le meme salaire en moins d une semaine. Je n ai pu rien faire , je suis parti. alors mefier vous, ...pour une nuit , vous serez OK mais pasa certain d avoir une 2e nuit s il a quelqu, un de payant. voila, bonne nuit, vivre a Ho Chi Minh c est super !!! ca fait 3 fois que j y vient et je decouvre toujours de nouvelles choses, endroits, etc chao bon voyage !!
Bonjour à tous
Comme un préssentiment !
sur mon post de novembre dernier quand je vous disait que le monde est a pleurer..😠
http://www.agoravox.fr/actualites/international/article/les-hmongs-sont-a-nouveau-67398
à l'est rien de nouveau !
ils nous fonts quoi là les Thailandais !!
L'impossible nous ne l'atteignons pas, mais il nous sert de lanterne.
René Char
J'ai toujours voyagé seul....les portes s'ouvrent plus facilement ainsi que le contact humain ; ce que j'aime avant tout -partager- !
L'irlande m'a fait trembler d'émotion par le passé, mais là ou j'ai pleuré, c'est quand je suis rentré d'Egypte apres presque un an !
Le Caire / Paris : 8h d'avion , et......... 40° d'écart ......... le blues !!!
2 ans pour me réadapter au climat et surtout à la mentalité.
Elle est pas belle la vie ?
Vivement les prochains départs.
@ + roland
2 ans pour me réadapter au climat et surtout à la mentalité.
Elle est pas belle la vie ?
Vivement les prochains départs.
@ + roland
Non , mais l'envie je l'ai a voir la nature humaine qui degenere a vitesse V ...😕
La mythomanie semble etre deja inscrit dans le code genetique de la race humaine.Suffit d'ouvrir un forum
Exellente annee a tous 😉
Exellente annee a tous 😉
Sur l'arbre qui donne des pommes il n'y a pas de citrons...
Oui bien sûr!!
Devant la beauté et l'immensité du désert, de bonheur et de joie après avoir marché de dunes en dunes et de me retrouver face à une Oasis et m'y être baignée, devant la beauté d'un coucher de soleil, en m'endormant sous la voûte étoilée, devant tant de merveilles de ce monde.
Devant la beauté et l'immensité du désert, de bonheur et de joie après avoir marché de dunes en dunes et de me retrouver face à une Oasis et m'y être baignée, devant la beauté d'un coucher de soleil, en m'endormant sous la voûte étoilée, devant tant de merveilles de ce monde.
Bonsoir à tous.
J'ai très souvent pleuré lors de mes voyages. En Inde, je prenais le bus avec mon fiancé pour rentrer à Rameswaram (après une longue marche sur la plage pour apercevoir le Sri Lanka), lorsque je propose à une dame de s'asseoir à ma place, pour éviter qu'elle ne s'assoie par terre. Son fils, qui devait avoir dans les 25-30ans, me répond en mimant que ce n'est pas la peine. Je comprends alors qu'il est sourd. Connaissant les bases de la langue des signes française, j'essaie de communiquer avec lui, mais sans grand succès car mes bases sont plus que limitées. Et j'ai explosé en sanglots devant mon incapacité à pouvoir communiquer, je me suis sentie impuissante, et je voyais l'importance que cela revêtait à ses yeux, qu'on lui accorde un peu d'attention. Il me disait que ce n'était pas grave, il me souriait, j'essayais d'épeler des mots, mais l'alphabet est différent en langue des signes française et indienne. Je n'arrêtais pas de pleurer devant les regards assez étonnés des autres indiens du bus, alors qu'il continuait de me sourire, et que je m'excusais de ne pas pouvoir faire plus. Sa mère essayait de me consoler sans succès, et elle s'est mise à pleurer aussi. Ensuite, elle a agit comme une vraie maman avec moi. Elle me remettait mon châle en place, elle me caressait les cheveux, mais elle continuait de pleurer en silence. J'avais sans doute réveillé en elle de lourds chagrins, de même pour moi. Je ne pensais pas vivre quelque chose d'aussi fort dans un bus bondé d'indiens qui étaient tous éberlués devant ce flot de larmes provenant d'une occidentale et d'une indienne.
Je ne suis pas une très bonne conteuse, et c'est la première fois que j'en parle depuis, il est très dur de "raconter" tout ce que j'ai pu ressentir à ce moment là.
J'ai très souvent pleuré lors de mes voyages. En Inde, je prenais le bus avec mon fiancé pour rentrer à Rameswaram (après une longue marche sur la plage pour apercevoir le Sri Lanka), lorsque je propose à une dame de s'asseoir à ma place, pour éviter qu'elle ne s'assoie par terre. Son fils, qui devait avoir dans les 25-30ans, me répond en mimant que ce n'est pas la peine. Je comprends alors qu'il est sourd. Connaissant les bases de la langue des signes française, j'essaie de communiquer avec lui, mais sans grand succès car mes bases sont plus que limitées. Et j'ai explosé en sanglots devant mon incapacité à pouvoir communiquer, je me suis sentie impuissante, et je voyais l'importance que cela revêtait à ses yeux, qu'on lui accorde un peu d'attention. Il me disait que ce n'était pas grave, il me souriait, j'essayais d'épeler des mots, mais l'alphabet est différent en langue des signes française et indienne. Je n'arrêtais pas de pleurer devant les regards assez étonnés des autres indiens du bus, alors qu'il continuait de me sourire, et que je m'excusais de ne pas pouvoir faire plus. Sa mère essayait de me consoler sans succès, et elle s'est mise à pleurer aussi. Ensuite, elle a agit comme une vraie maman avec moi. Elle me remettait mon châle en place, elle me caressait les cheveux, mais elle continuait de pleurer en silence. J'avais sans doute réveillé en elle de lourds chagrins, de même pour moi. Je ne pensais pas vivre quelque chose d'aussi fort dans un bus bondé d'indiens qui étaient tous éberlués devant ce flot de larmes provenant d'une occidentale et d'une indienne.
Je ne suis pas une très bonne conteuse, et c'est la première fois que j'en parle depuis, il est très dur de "raconter" tout ce que j'ai pu ressentir à ce moment là.
Nan, là c'était à Udaïpur, dans un petit temple, c'était la femme du guide. Elle avait décidé de me remettre le sari comme il se doit, elle était adorable. Elle et son époux n'ont pas demandé d'argent, ce qui nous a étonné, vu la visite guidée à laquelle nous avions eu droit...🙂
J'ai souvent voyagé seule, j'ai pas mal pleuré et... seule. De rage, d'impuissance devant certaines situations, mais aussi d'émotion. La toute première émotion remonte à lontemps: au Louvre, devant la "joconde" ( ou ce que je pensais être la joconde à cette époque); la dernière fois c'était en haut de l'Empire state building après 5 heures difficiles de queue en plein mois d'aout pour accéder au dernier étage. Une fois la haut quelle beauté!! Mais personne avec qui partager!! De plus les piles de mon appareil photo étaient à plat!!! Heureusement que mon tél était là!!
le temps d'apprendre à vivre, il est déjà trop tard ( Aragon)
OUI
d'émotion devant des paysages à couper le souffle.
et puis à la fin du voyage, quand tout s'arrête, c'est fini on rentre. On ramène une richesse énorme : ce que l'on a vécu mais en même temps, enfin moi, je n'ai qu'une envie, c'est repartir...
MCS
On ne voyage pas pour se guérir de soi, mais pour s'aguerrir, se fortifier, se sentir et se savoir plus finement... Michel Onfray
Je n'ai pas beaucoup voyagé mais toujours en solitaire car j'aime prendre mon temps, prévoir le moins possible, souvent le sort a guidé mes pas. L'émotion s'invite parfois sans qu'on s'y attende et vous submerge mais je me souviens de celle qui me fait encore monter l'eau aux yeux: en 1998, en plein océan indien, alors que je ramenais mon petit voilier (27 pieds) à la réunion, seul depuis trois semaines, je lisais "Capitaine courageux" de Rudyar Kippling quand l'émotion m'a submergée et me suis mis à pleurer à chaudes larmes. Je ne me souviens pas avoir tant pleuré de ma vie. Cette expérience m'avais laissé épuisé. Etait-ce, le texte émouvant ou les mois de solitude?
Merci pour cette sensibilité, cette profondeur 😉
Le ciel c'est comme la mer à l’envers,
Par dessus tout, c'est la joie qui m'en impose,
Et je vends ma sublime 500 Royal Enfield, qui se bronze à GOA !
Par dessus tout, c'est la joie qui m'en impose,
Et je vends ma sublime 500 Royal Enfield, qui se bronze à GOA !
Merci pour tous ces temoignages poignants.
Ma derniere fois, et ca me glace encore le sang : dans le bus au Cambodge, sur le trajet Battambang- Phnom Penh.
Notre bus est passe au ralenti a cote de 2 personnes gisant sur le sol, accidentes a morts (moto). L'accident venait probablement de se produire. La vie semblait continuer a cote, pas de secours...
Je n'avais jamais cottoye la mort de si pres. J'ai ressenti un enorme sentiment d'injustice, d'absurdite de la vie qui tient vraiment a un fil.
On se regardait dans le bus, a moitie terrorises, puis la journee et la vie a repris son cours. Je repense souvent a cet episode.
Soyez prudents sur les routes en Asie!
clemence
Oh oui! Aux Seychelles en 68, j'avais 20 ans et je ne voyais pas l'avenir, je me posais trop de questions et j'attendais désespérément la fille de mes rêves. Alors toutes ces questions ajoutées aux paysages sublimes des Seychelles de 68, j'ai eu une brusque montée d'émotions et j'ai éclaté en long sanglots, mais seul sur une plage car seule la nature devait recueillir ce moment d'intimité.
J'ai eu d'autres moments d'émotions mais avec des larmes de joie, par exemple en mer rouge sur la plage arrière du bateau lorsque ce marin jouait du jazz à la trompette alors que le soleil se couchait. Un moment inoubliable!
Depuis j'ai trouvé le fille de mes rêves, elle m'accompagne depuis 40 ans et je ne pleure plus 😎
J'ai eu d'autres moments d'émotions mais avec des larmes de joie, par exemple en mer rouge sur la plage arrière du bateau lorsque ce marin jouait du jazz à la trompette alors que le soleil se couchait. Un moment inoubliable!
Depuis j'ai trouvé le fille de mes rêves, elle m'accompagne depuis 40 ans et je ne pleure plus 😎
Depuis mes 4 ans, je revais de partir au Japon. J'y suis allé pour mon premier voyage. Au grand sanctuaire du Fushimi Inari, à Kyoto, j'ai du traverser un bon milier de torii vermillons, seul, avant de me perdre dans un endroit isolé, silencieux, paisible. Je me suis assis sur une pierre, et j'ai pleuré pendant une demi-heure...d'avoir accompi ce reve...et d'avoir assisté à l'une des plus belle naissance...celle de la passion du voyage...
Je n'ai jamais autant pleuré.
Je n'ai jamais autant pleuré.
J'ai pleuré en Inde en 2003 : j'étais dans le train à Bombay avec des amis, le train était bondé et un petit garçon de 6-7 ans n'arrêtait pas de me regarder, en fait, il était en train de me dessiner avec son petit crayon et une grande feuille : il était tout sale, à pied nus.
Quand, je suis descendu, il a couru pour me donner mon portrait et quand j'ai retourné la feuille, il avait dessiné
une personne agée qu'il avait du voir dans un autre train !
J'ai eu une larme et c'était le plus beau jour de ma vie !
Merci
J'ai eu une larme et c'était le plus beau jour de ma vie !
Merci
J' ai pleuré sur les iles flotante du lac titicaca au Perou , toute mon enfance j'avait vu ces images dans un dessin animé ,
et mon rêve se realisait , ca fesait trop du bien de pleurer
J 'ai aussi pleuré avec une amie en retour d'un voyage de rêve en Turquie , on étaient fatiguées et on avait fait de belle
rencontres , on ne voulaient plus revenir.
ps/ EN LISANT VOS POST j ai limite les larme aux yeux , je me rend compte a quel poitn les émotions font notre vie, et
j'aurai voulu étre avec vous pour voir ces moment qui vous on marqués😉
et mon rêve se realisait , ca fesait trop du bien de pleurer
J 'ai aussi pleuré avec une amie en retour d'un voyage de rêve en Turquie , on étaient fatiguées et on avait fait de belle
rencontres , on ne voulaient plus revenir.
ps/ EN LISANT VOS POST j ai limite les larme aux yeux , je me rend compte a quel poitn les émotions font notre vie, et
j'aurai voulu étre avec vous pour voir ces moment qui vous on marqués😉
Sur les chemins de la bohême, j ai croisé le bout du monde, les ptits matin au café créme, ou je taxai ma 1er blonde. avant de partir le pouce en l'air a l autre bout du bout du monde.... La rue ketanou ;)
... en arrivant seul au Thorong La Pass au Népal.
Pour le contexte, cf. le texte du 23/10/2009 sur cette page : http://nanor44.free.fr/forum/nepal-2009/index-02.html
Pour le contexte, cf. le texte du 23/10/2009 sur cette page : http://nanor44.free.fr/forum/nepal-2009/index-02.html
Panoramiques : http://nanor44.free.fr
- Salar de Uyuni à pied (Bolivie 2011) - Népal : Annapurna, Everest - Lofoten
- Salar de Uyuni à pied (Bolivie 2011) - Népal : Annapurna, Everest - Lofoten
C'était, il y a deux ans, au Népal, dans la haute vallée du Langtang, à l'entrée du village de Kianjing Gompa.
C'était le matin, le sentier longeait la cour de l'école; les enfants jouaient dans un pré.
Quand ils nous ont aperçu, ils se sont tous précipités, agglutinés autour de nous, sauf une fille de 9 ans
qui restait à l'écart, l'air absente..
Nous avons discuté en anglais avec son instituteur qui nous a appris que son père avait été tué par la guérilla
maoïste, peu de temps auparavant...
Nous sommes restés un moment avec les enfants, leur distribuant cahiers et crayons de couleur. Pendant tout ce temps,
elle est restée à l'écart, pleurant silencieusement... Ca a été plus fort que moi...
C'était le matin, le sentier longeait la cour de l'école; les enfants jouaient dans un pré.
Quand ils nous ont aperçu, ils se sont tous précipités, agglutinés autour de nous, sauf une fille de 9 ans
qui restait à l'écart, l'air absente..
Nous avons discuté en anglais avec son instituteur qui nous a appris que son père avait été tué par la guérilla
maoïste, peu de temps auparavant...
Nous sommes restés un moment avec les enfants, leur distribuant cahiers et crayons de couleur. Pendant tout ce temps,
elle est restée à l'écart, pleurant silencieusement... Ca a été plus fort que moi...
elle est restée à l'écart, pleurant silencieusement... Ca a été plus fort que moi...
Purée, tu m'étonnes !!!! 🤪🤪
Dur ....
Purée, tu m'étonnes !!!! 🤪🤪
Dur ....
"le précipice ne se franchit pas en deux bonds"
J'ai lu avec beaucoup d'intérêt le récit de votre trek dans les Annapurna : passionnant !
Les photos sont magnifiques !
En novembre 2008, on a "fait" la vallée du Langtang et de l'Helambu sur 14 jours avec des amis et un ami népalais. Nous aussi, ce voyage nous a " retourné" les gens, leurs conditions de vie, les paysages.
On n'a pas eu votre courage et on a eu recours à des porteurs ( on se console en disant qu'on leur a donné un peu de travail... On a beaucoup fraternisé avec eux : admiration, rigolades, soins des bobos..; TOTAL RESPECT ! )
En novembre 2008, on a "fait" la vallée du Langtang et de l'Helambu sur 14 jours avec des amis et un ami népalais. Nous aussi, ce voyage nous a " retourné" les gens, leurs conditions de vie, les paysages.
On n'a pas eu votre courage et on a eu recours à des porteurs ( on se console en disant qu'on leur a donné un peu de travail... On a beaucoup fraternisé avec eux : admiration, rigolades, soins des bobos..; TOTAL RESPECT ! )
On a beaucoup fraternisé avec eux...
Les népalais sont géniaux, c'est pour ça que je compte y retourner dès cette année.
J'ai lu avec beaucoup d'intérêt le récit de votre trek dans les Annapurna : passionnant ! Les photos sont magnifiques !
Merci.
Normalement il devrait y en avoir d'autres vers fin 2010...
Les népalais sont géniaux, c'est pour ça que je compte y retourner dès cette année.
J'ai lu avec beaucoup d'intérêt le récit de votre trek dans les Annapurna : passionnant ! Les photos sont magnifiques !
Merci.
Normalement il devrait y en avoir d'autres vers fin 2010...
Panoramiques : http://nanor44.free.fr
- Salar de Uyuni à pied (Bolivie 2011) - Népal : Annapurna, Everest - Lofoten
- Salar de Uyuni à pied (Bolivie 2011) - Népal : Annapurna, Everest - Lofoten
Moi j'ai déja versé une larme en devenant solitaire en rentrant de voyage 🙂
Le plus grand voyageur est celui qui a su faire une fois le tour de lui-même
Me connaissant, je sais que je vais beaucoup pleurer dans 2 semaines, nous partons découvrir le pays de mes racines:l'Arménie, pays mythique dont j'ai entendu et lu tant d'histoires tragiques, émotion de découvrir ma famille que je ne connais pas encore, joie d'y retrouver mon fils routard que je n'ai pas vu depuis plusieurs années et surtout chavirement du coeur à fouler la terre de mes ancêtres.
corinnette
J'ai pleuré la première que j'ai perdu mon sac à dos (ça m'est arrivé 2 fois) en Italie avec les scouts. J'avais 13 ans.
Je repars en Chine cet été pour un an au moins, je me prépare à pleurer quand je retournerai à Kunming où j'ai laissé beaucoup de souvenirs.
en partant de Diego Suarez à Madagascar. c'était au départ de la deuxième escale. entre ces deux escales, j'y suis retourné en vacances 15 jours...tout les ingrédients étaient réunis pour que je reste la-bas mais mon devoir de marin m'a donné raison en continuant à faire de belles escales et en rencontrant pleins de gens serviables, gentils et humains...
on devrait envoyer certaines personnes de la france dans les pays qui n'ont pas les mêmes moyens que nous. ça leur ferait changer certaines attitudes.
mais mon devoir de marin m'a donné raison en continuant à faire de belles escales et en rencontrant pleins de gens serviables, gentils et humains...
ah, la vie de marin !!! 😉😉😉😎
ah, la vie de marin !!! 😉😉😉😎
"le précipice ne se franchit pas en deux bonds"
OUI
d'émotion devant des paysages à couper le souffle.
et puis à la fin du voyage, quand tout s'arrête, c'est fini on rentre. On ramène une richesse énorme : ce que l'on a vécu mais en même temps, enfin moi, je n'ai qu'une envie, c'est repartir...
pareil !
pareil !
Oui. Pourtant les faits sont anciens mais, aujourd'hui encore, la charge émotionnelle est toujours trop forte et je me laisse aller.
C'était le 16 novembre 1985. Cela se passait à Arméro en Colombie après la brusque entrée en éruption du volcan Nevado del Ruiz. Les caméras de télévision ont filmé la lente agonie d'une jeune fille prisonnière dans un torrent de boue dont le niveau ne cessait de s'élever. Debout dans la vase mais retenue par les pieds, elle a été engloutie devant les sauveteurs impuissants.
Elle s'appellait Omaira Sanchez et elle avait 13 ans.
C'était le 16 novembre 1985. Cela se passait à Arméro en Colombie après la brusque entrée en éruption du volcan Nevado del Ruiz. Les caméras de télévision ont filmé la lente agonie d'une jeune fille prisonnière dans un torrent de boue dont le niveau ne cessait de s'élever. Debout dans la vase mais retenue par les pieds, elle a été engloutie devant les sauveteurs impuissants.
Elle s'appellait Omaira Sanchez et elle avait 13 ans.
Arbolito
Il y a longtemps c'était mon tout premier voyage et durant mon périple à travers l'Asie jusqu'en Inde j'ai séjourné 3 semaine dans une famille Druze au Liban et ils me considéraient presque comme leur fils; chaque jour je leur annonçais que j'allais partir et ils me demandaient de rester encore! Lorsque j'ai dû enfin les quitter ça a été un véritable déchirement! J'ai connu une situation identique plusieurs années plus tard mais ( moins longtemps) en territoire Palestinien ( Hebron)... En matière d'hospitalité le moyen-orient, pour moi n'a pas son égal...
Tous ces souvenirs sont beaux à pleurer...🙂l'émotion me submerge souvent en voyage : la majesté d'un paysage, la gentillesse, les instants partagés, la souffrance parfois aussi (j'ai pleuré d'épuisement lors d'un trek en Thaïlande), je pleure de rire parfois aussi....le monde est souvent tellement beau qu'il ne peut que nous arracher des larmes de joie.
Ce ne sera pas un témoignage de plus, juste une pensée car j'ai déjà répondu plusieurs fois au début...
C'était juste pour dire que c'est toujours un bonheur de lire ce post qui continue son bout de chemin.
Que je trouve que ce post est le plus joli des posts, dans cette rubrique "Pensées et réflexions"..........
Pleurer en voyage ou ailleurs, c'est un peu la même chose, c'est redevenir enfant, c'est se retrouver nu devant ses émotions... Pleurer de bonheur, d'impuissance, de solitude, pleurer devant des gens qu'on aime et qu'on quitte, pleurer pour mieux pouvoir grandir, mais ne reste-t-on pas toujours un enfant au fond de soi....?
Les gens qui savent pleurer me touchent. Ceux qui savent rire aussi !
Merci à l'auteur. Et à tous ceux qui ont bien voulu se mettre à nu.
Pleurer en voyage ou ailleurs, c'est un peu la même chose, c'est redevenir enfant, c'est se retrouver nu devant ses émotions... Pleurer de bonheur, d'impuissance, de solitude, pleurer devant des gens qu'on aime et qu'on quitte, pleurer pour mieux pouvoir grandir, mais ne reste-t-on pas toujours un enfant au fond de soi....?
Les gens qui savent pleurer me touchent. Ceux qui savent rire aussi !
Merci à l'auteur. Et à tous ceux qui ont bien voulu se mettre à nu.
J'ai pleuré aujourd'hui...
Toutes les larmes de mon corps...
j'ai raté mon avion et le ticket n'est ni échangeable ni remboursable...
Je passerai mes deux mois de vacances chez moi à Bruxelles au lieu de varanasi orissa Tamil Nadu.
Sur 570€, je peux être remboursée que de 55, 37€.
Bonne journée
Om shanti... 🏴☠️🏴☠️🏴☠️🏴☠️🏴☠️🏴☠️🏴☠️🏴☠️🏴☠️🏴☠️🏴☠️🏴☠️🏴☠️
Fainéanter dans un monde neuf est la plus absorbante des occupations... (N.Bouvier)
Parvat, j'avais lu tes préparatifs de voyage pour ce pays que tu aimes tant....
Ça ne changera rien à ta peine, mais je crois qu'on va être plusieurs à être tristes pour toi aujourd'hui.....
Je rajoute dans mon message précédent: pleurer ici ou ailleurs c'est la même chose, pleurer de rage, de déception, pleurer parce qu'un rêve se brise.....🏴☠️
Allez, t'en fais pas, y'en aura d'autres des beaux voyages !!! Et tu nous emmeneras avec toi à travers tes carnets, et tu nous feras rire......
Je rajoute dans mon message précédent: pleurer ici ou ailleurs c'est la même chose, pleurer de rage, de déception, pleurer parce qu'un rêve se brise.....🏴☠️
Allez, t'en fais pas, y'en aura d'autres des beaux voyages !!! Et tu nous emmeneras avec toi à travers tes carnets, et tu nous feras rire......
Je viens de voir que tout a l'air de s'arranger pour toi ! 🙂
Yes! 😎
j'ai plus de larmes, a part de bonheur de connaître des gens vraiment adorables...🙂
Fainéanter dans un monde neuf est la plus absorbante des occupations... (N.Bouvier)
c'est toujours un bonheur de lire ce post qui continue son bout de chemin.
Que je trouve que ce post est le plus joli des posts, dans cette rubrique "Pensées et réflexions"..........
Bonjour Ming2,
Je suis un peu d'accord avec toi ! Je ne sais pas si c'est LE plus joli des posts, car cette rubrique renferme énormement de posts chargés en émotions, mais c'est effectivement l'un des plus joli !!! Et tout comme toi, je le suis régulièrement.
Amicalement
Bonjour Ming2,
Je suis un peu d'accord avec toi ! Je ne sais pas si c'est LE plus joli des posts, car cette rubrique renferme énormement de posts chargés en émotions, mais c'est effectivement l'un des plus joli !!! Et tout comme toi, je le suis régulièrement.
Amicalement
Que des beaux témoignages qui me donnent envie de repartir!!!
J'ai pleuré une seule fois depuis que je voyage seule, c'était le jour où j'ai du quitter les amis venant des quatre bouts du monde que je m'étais faits dans un camp de jeunes...
Heureusement on a pu garder contact :)
Sinon quand je sens ma gorge se serrer, je réalise que c'est juste la fatigue qui me donne envie de pleurer, alors je pense à la nuit qui m'attend et ça me rebooste :)
Sinon dans mes moments d'émotion c'est plutôt le "rire de joie pure", comme tu dis. La dernière fois que j'ai ressenti ça, c'est en me baignant dans un lac en Alaska, près de Matanuska, le lac s'étendait entre de chaînes de montagnes recouvertes de forêts de grands conifères, et on voyait les rayons du soleil qui rasaient la surface de l'eau... Juste magnifique, je me rends compte que c'est impossible de décrire ce moment. Un autre fois où j'ai ressenti ça, c'était en arrivant en haut d'une montagne, après en avoir bien bavé - je suivais des amis donc je ne voulais pas montrer que j'en pouvais plus ;)
Sinon dans mes moments d'émotion c'est plutôt le "rire de joie pure", comme tu dis. La dernière fois que j'ai ressenti ça, c'est en me baignant dans un lac en Alaska, près de Matanuska, le lac s'étendait entre de chaînes de montagnes recouvertes de forêts de grands conifères, et on voyait les rayons du soleil qui rasaient la surface de l'eau... Juste magnifique, je me rends compte que c'est impossible de décrire ce moment. Un autre fois où j'ai ressenti ça, c'était en arrivant en haut d'une montagne, après en avoir bien bavé - je suivais des amis donc je ne voulais pas montrer que j'en pouvais plus ;)
Je cherche des conseils en tous genre pour voyager seule! J'aimerais discuter avec des gens qui sont déjà partis vraiment seuls en pleine nature, si possible dans des pays froids! Merci!
Ah oui j'ai pleuré une fois quand j'étais dans le bus d'Eurolines qui me ramenait vers Paris, je quittais Milan où j'avais passé une semaine superbe... les autres voyageurs ont pas dû comprendre pourquoi mais moi je voulais pas repartirrrrrrrrrr
Bonjour à toutes et à tous !
Oui, j'ai déjà pleuré en voyage en montagne : le Bishorn mon premier 4000 m d'altitude : au sommet un suisse avec une vieille corde en chanvre, un chapeau de feutre et un vieux sac de 1950. Il monte jusqu'au sommet où mon compagnon et moi venions d'arriver. Il pose son sac et sort un objet blanc, il le déplie et c'est en fait un cor des alpes. Il a ensuite joué du cor des alpes à 4192 m d'altitude avec une vue magnifique et un ciel bleu sans nuage, un très grand moment d'émotion et de bonheur, c'est le sommet dont j'ai le plus beau souvenir.
Oui, j'ai déjà pleuré en voyage en montagne : le Bishorn mon premier 4000 m d'altitude : au sommet un suisse avec une vieille corde en chanvre, un chapeau de feutre et un vieux sac de 1950. Il monte jusqu'au sommet où mon compagnon et moi venions d'arriver. Il pose son sac et sort un objet blanc, il le déplie et c'est en fait un cor des alpes. Il a ensuite joué du cor des alpes à 4192 m d'altitude avec une vue magnifique et un ciel bleu sans nuage, un très grand moment d'émotion et de bonheur, c'est le sommet dont j'ai le plus beau souvenir.
Log in first, then come back to this page.
You might also like
More discussions
Hello everyone on this forum!
I know in advance that what I'm about to say here won't please everyone, but honesty is a virtue, isn't it?
Here's the thing: for many years now, I've noticed a habit in French-speaking posts of using abbreviations left and right, as if to show that we're "in the know." Let me explain with a few examples:
- - In discussions about Peru, I see "Aguas" for "Aguas Calientes." And if it's Mexico, well, it'll be "Aguas" for "Aguascalientes"!
- - For Guatemala, "travelers" will say "Guaté." Come on, saying "Guatemalas" would maybe be the undeniable sign that you know nothing about the country???
- - Back from Indonesia, many will talk about how familiar they've become with the country's language: "bahasa." Of course, everyone will know what you're talking about, but it still gets on my nerves because the language (one of the many languages) of Indonesia is "bahasa Indonesia." "Bahasa" actually means "language," and you'll find this word of Indian origin ‘Bhāṣā’ (it's Sanskrit originally) outside Indonesia too: in Thailand, for example, any language will be "phasa" as in "phasa thai" (official Thai), "phasa isan" (what's spoken in northeastern Thailand), "phasa angkrit" = English, etc.
Am I an incorrigible nitpicker? Maybe. But I'd also find it ridiculous if a foreigner came and told me they visited "Monte" during their trip to France, when it was actually Monte Carlo.
I read a lot in English and don't think I've encountered such a habit among English speakers.
Hi everyone,
Who’d like to share their best and worst travel memories in a few lines? For me, it’s watching the TAJ MAHAL at sunrise and getting chased by dogs at the top of a mountain pass in GREECE on the way back from ISTANBUL. THANKS GUYS
Who’d like to share their best and worst travel memories in a few lines? For me, it’s watching the TAJ MAHAL at sunrise and getting chased by dogs at the top of a mountain pass in GREECE on the way back from ISTANBUL. THANKS GUYS
Good evening everyone,
This is my 15,000th post, and it's a message I would have preferred never to write.
Patrick—Yangguizi—won’t be returning from his trek in Uganda. His health betrayed him in the mountains.
Like many of you, I laughed until I couldn’t anymore at his travel stories. I met him in Shanghai, then in Istanbul... We scoured restaurants—he was an incredible expert on world cuisines. We relived Korea, China. Always brilliant, so sharp, so funny, so down-to-earth. Being even a little bit his friend was something to be proud of. I think I envied him.
Patrick is still out there, of course... He found his happiness running across the world. He’s on his path. He never doubted that "the traveler doesn’t even know if he’ll return one day."
Not sure this would’ve suited him, but his departure devastates me.
Alright, Farewell, you foreign devil. Safe travels.
Michel
This is my 15,000th post, and it's a message I would have preferred never to write.
Patrick—Yangguizi—won’t be returning from his trek in Uganda. His health betrayed him in the mountains.
Like many of you, I laughed until I couldn’t anymore at his travel stories. I met him in Shanghai, then in Istanbul... We scoured restaurants—he was an incredible expert on world cuisines. We relived Korea, China. Always brilliant, so sharp, so funny, so down-to-earth. Being even a little bit his friend was something to be proud of. I think I envied him.
Patrick is still out there, of course... He found his happiness running across the world. He’s on his path. He never doubted that "the traveler doesn’t even know if he’ll return one day."
Not sure this would’ve suited him, but his departure devastates me.
Alright, Farewell, you foreign devil. Safe travels.
Michel
hello to all travelers with their eyes wide open to the desert...
I’ve always wondered what I was "doing" on this earth. And why my father, who died a few months after I was born—a former youngest French resistance fighter—joined the First Saharan Motorized Company in Atar and spent the rest of his life repairing army engines in Algeria, Mauritania, Senegal, Mali (which didn’t exist under that name back then), Morocco, and finally Algeria, where my mother was born and raised. (Believe me, it’s not "cool" being the child of a soldier in a country occupied by France, and even less so the child of a "pied-noir.") Of course, I never got an answer: the dead don’t talk, and the army doesn’t either. But here’s the thing—I had photos... So naturally, one day I hit the road. I wanted to see, to understand. It’s thanks to VF that I was able to do a little research on crossing the Morocco-Mauritania border, and I’m grateful to its members, just as I’m grateful to all those who welcomed me on the road for 14 years. For the past few weeks, I’ve been wondering if I should talk about this or not... It turns out the Mauritanians changed my life by asking for my help... And that started as early as February 2012... (Did I owe them something? No answer to that question.) Ah, the irony—they saw me coming. But when you’re handed sick children and begged to do something, what would you have done? I’d worked in a hospital, so I knew a bit about the rules to follow. I didn’t hesitate. And well, over all these years, I met doctors, surgeons, and together we organized care, evacuations of children, training for surgeons—even trying to stop children from having to travel outside their country. It was never easy. I’d like to thank those who supported us, as well as *La Chaîne de l’Espoir*, *La Fondation Face au Monde*, and everyone who built bridges between our two countries. Unfortunately, despite the constant efforts of Mauritanian doctors and surgeons, some children couldn’t be helped in time. Today, I want to talk about four siblings—orphans of their mother—suffering from congenital glaucoma causing irreversible blindness. Their case was entrusted to me in 2020, just weeks before the big lockdown. We couldn’t do anything for them then, but when their father asked me for a gift, I rushed to my computer and wrote a story. Through a tale, the children take a great journey, explore their country, and fulfill a dream. I never thought this book would be published—it was, in 2023. This book pays tribute to Mauritania. It’s a message for those who know nothing about the hardships of life there, carrying both the harshness and beauty of an immense desert where you can travel by 4x4, bike, on foot, or by camel in complete safety. It bears witness to the kindness of Mauritanians toward travelers. As a woman traveling alone in my vehicle—a now-rusted old Mercedes that no longer runs—I had the most beautiful encounters of my life there (I’ve seen other parts of the world...). The blind children of Choum, Atar, Nouadhibou, and Nouakchott will forever be in my heart. Volunteer readers transcribed the book into a free audio version for the visually impaired. It’s available in sound libraries in France, the *Fondation Valentin Haüy*, and the Swiss Romande library. I made my last trip to Mauritania in my old 4x4 to distribute the book everywhere, especially to its heroes and the school for the visually impaired in Nouakchott. After that, I thought it was time to close the chapter because I no longer have the means or the strength to travel. My publishers chose this title for it: *The Blue Eyes of the Desert*. This publication helped a mission of Swiss volunteer ophthalmologists come to operate on glaucomas in Mauritania. I’m thrilled because they come back every year! This adventure is ending, yes—everything must come to an end—but ultimately, it was born here, on the VF site!! So yes, I had to say it: THANK YOU!!!!!
I’ve always wondered what I was "doing" on this earth. And why my father, who died a few months after I was born—a former youngest French resistance fighter—joined the First Saharan Motorized Company in Atar and spent the rest of his life repairing army engines in Algeria, Mauritania, Senegal, Mali (which didn’t exist under that name back then), Morocco, and finally Algeria, where my mother was born and raised. (Believe me, it’s not "cool" being the child of a soldier in a country occupied by France, and even less so the child of a "pied-noir.") Of course, I never got an answer: the dead don’t talk, and the army doesn’t either. But here’s the thing—I had photos... So naturally, one day I hit the road. I wanted to see, to understand. It’s thanks to VF that I was able to do a little research on crossing the Morocco-Mauritania border, and I’m grateful to its members, just as I’m grateful to all those who welcomed me on the road for 14 years. For the past few weeks, I’ve been wondering if I should talk about this or not... It turns out the Mauritanians changed my life by asking for my help... And that started as early as February 2012... (Did I owe them something? No answer to that question.) Ah, the irony—they saw me coming. But when you’re handed sick children and begged to do something, what would you have done? I’d worked in a hospital, so I knew a bit about the rules to follow. I didn’t hesitate. And well, over all these years, I met doctors, surgeons, and together we organized care, evacuations of children, training for surgeons—even trying to stop children from having to travel outside their country. It was never easy. I’d like to thank those who supported us, as well as *La Chaîne de l’Espoir*, *La Fondation Face au Monde*, and everyone who built bridges between our two countries. Unfortunately, despite the constant efforts of Mauritanian doctors and surgeons, some children couldn’t be helped in time. Today, I want to talk about four siblings—orphans of their mother—suffering from congenital glaucoma causing irreversible blindness. Their case was entrusted to me in 2020, just weeks before the big lockdown. We couldn’t do anything for them then, but when their father asked me for a gift, I rushed to my computer and wrote a story. Through a tale, the children take a great journey, explore their country, and fulfill a dream. I never thought this book would be published—it was, in 2023. This book pays tribute to Mauritania. It’s a message for those who know nothing about the hardships of life there, carrying both the harshness and beauty of an immense desert where you can travel by 4x4, bike, on foot, or by camel in complete safety. It bears witness to the kindness of Mauritanians toward travelers. As a woman traveling alone in my vehicle—a now-rusted old Mercedes that no longer runs—I had the most beautiful encounters of my life there (I’ve seen other parts of the world...). The blind children of Choum, Atar, Nouadhibou, and Nouakchott will forever be in my heart. Volunteer readers transcribed the book into a free audio version for the visually impaired. It’s available in sound libraries in France, the *Fondation Valentin Haüy*, and the Swiss Romande library. I made my last trip to Mauritania in my old 4x4 to distribute the book everywhere, especially to its heroes and the school for the visually impaired in Nouakchott. After that, I thought it was time to close the chapter because I no longer have the means or the strength to travel. My publishers chose this title for it: *The Blue Eyes of the Desert*. This publication helped a mission of Swiss volunteer ophthalmologists come to operate on glaucomas in Mauritania. I’m thrilled because they come back every year! This adventure is ending, yes—everything must come to an end—but ultimately, it was born here, on the VF site!! So yes, I had to say it: THANK YOU!!!!!
Hi everyone,
I’m Loulou, a French expat who’s been living in Southeast Asia for about fifteen years, currently in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. A passionate walker at heart, I’ve trekked in Nepal (Thorung La, Mardi Himal), India, Vietnam, and I’m still planning new hikes (Char Dham, Langtang, Annapurna).
I’ve just published my first travel journal, recounting three months of walking and encounters across India. A portion of the sales goes to an educational center I support in Kep, for children whose parents work in the salt marshes.
I’m also working on a second book about Nepal with a musician friend, focusing on the Mardi Himal trek—two independent perspectives on the same journey.
Happy to swap stories with you about the Himalayas, India, Southeast Asia, or just the urge to hit the road and walk far from home.
Safe travels,
Loulou
Hi! It was totally by chance that I stumbled upon VoyageForum (an ad online and a story lol), and I’ve been reading some really old posts from 2011 about Thai massage schools—discussions on how to get by, accommodation, prices, etc. It reminded me of my own experience: I kept things simple by staying with a local family during my entire trip. I only shared all the expenses with them, which, I’ll admit, was super cheap… and I often traveled with them, which naturally opened a lot of doors for me. To start, at the school in Salaya, my Thai friend immediately connected me with Teacher Phong (the school’s mentor and teacher of teachers, a former monk). I was supposed to join a group session with other foreigners, but for some reason I don’t know, I got two days of private lessons for free with this expert… incredible! And on top of that, he loved France! It was an amazing experience. I "discovered" massage by chance—the Thai family just told me: "Try it, you’ll see!" (I’d had a pretty intense massage in the capital before 😅… but the next day, I felt unbelievably great!))
Every morning, I’d take a taxi (chosen by the Thai family at prices that beat all the competition) to this school—I’ve forgotten the name of the little village now… right in the heart of the countryside. Then, in the evenings, I’d keep practicing massage on all the family members… and they’d teach me Thai at the same time!))
Since then, I’ve practiced a bit, with lots of positive feedback. Following Teacher Phong’s advice—he thought my pressure was deep, firm, and precise—he strongly encouraged me to take this seriously.
I love Thailand so much. It’s a whole different way of living… and it’s a real blessing, even if I couldn’t live there full-time. Anyway, that was an unforgettable memory, and sometimes the Thai family and I still say hi—from 2011, 2013… right up to today!
Take care, everyone! !
Every morning, I’d take a taxi (chosen by the Thai family at prices that beat all the competition) to this school—I’ve forgotten the name of the little village now… right in the heart of the countryside. Then, in the evenings, I’d keep practicing massage on all the family members… and they’d teach me Thai at the same time!))
Since then, I’ve practiced a bit, with lots of positive feedback. Following Teacher Phong’s advice—he thought my pressure was deep, firm, and precise—he strongly encouraged me to take this seriously.
I love Thailand so much. It’s a whole different way of living… and it’s a real blessing, even if I couldn’t live there full-time. Anyway, that was an unforgettable memory, and sometimes the Thai family and I still say hi—from 2011, 2013… right up to today!
Take care, everyone! !
"It seems to me that poverty would be less painful in the sun" wrote Aznavour...
Not sure...😕 Who can prove that people in hot countries are happier than others? What do you think?
Is it better to live in Montpellier than in Lille? Are the Pygmies happier than the Inuit? Are Canadians less happy than the people of Louisiana? Are there more French expats in hot countries?
And your travels? Do you choose your destinations based on the climate? Do you rejoice when a bit of sunshine appears?
Not sure...😕 Who can prove that people in hot countries are happier than others? What do you think?
Is it better to live in Montpellier than in Lille? Are the Pygmies happier than the Inuit? Are Canadians less happy than the people of Louisiana? Are there more French expats in hot countries?
And your travels? Do you choose your destinations based on the climate? Do you rejoice when a bit of sunshine appears?
Hi everyone, just this once I’m not posting for a travel story, but to share a thought for Venezuela.
If you didn’t know—since it’s not making headlines—the country was hit by two 7.5-magnitude earthquakes last week. Over 2,200 people have died, more than 50,000 are missing, and some coastal towns have been completely destroyed. Maybe when the scale of the humanitarian crisis becomes clear, our media will cover it a bit more... especially since earthquakes with this many casualties usually make the front page, but there’s been nothing in France.
So here’s a thought for this country, which, whatever you think of its politics, is a true jewel of South America, both for its landscapes and its people.
If you didn’t know—since it’s not making headlines—the country was hit by two 7.5-magnitude earthquakes last week. Over 2,200 people have died, more than 50,000 are missing, and some coastal towns have been completely destroyed. Maybe when the scale of the humanitarian crisis becomes clear, our media will cover it a bit more... especially since earthquakes with this many casualties usually make the front page, but there’s been nothing in France.
So here’s a thought for this country, which, whatever you think of its politics, is a true jewel of South America, both for its landscapes and its people.
hi there
I’d like to invite you to discover my coastal province in central Vietnam: Quang Ngai.
This year, my province has really improved its infrastructure—mountains, countryside, and sea are all authentic here.
No harassers or thieves, and no Russians either.
A local lunch costs around 1 €.
A *** hotel room is about 25 €, and you can find hotels right on My Khe Beach.
We have a specialty: *banh xeo*—10 crepes for just 1.5 €.
You can rent motorbikes to explore the province and maybe visit the many ethnic minorities.
I live here—I’m not selling anything, but I can help if needed (my father-in-law is a traditional Vietnamese doctor and he’s very skilled).
We're planning to spend a month in Vietnam. Is hiring a guide helpful?
Hi everyone! 😉
I’m Typhaine, 35 years old. Five years ago, I left France for a solo round-the-world trip—no planes, just a van, hitchhiking, cycling, and even a canoe in the Amazon! Today, I work as a naturalist guide in Argentine Patagonia.
Wherever I go, my compass stays the same: observing and photographing wildlife, which I deeply admire and respect.
My project: I’d love to share this experience through a sustainable, authentic, and immersive nature tourism initiative. But to build something meaningful, I need to understand how other nature enthusiasts experience their own adventures.
If you:
Are over 20 years old
Have a true passion for Nature
Have already taken at least one trip lasting more than 3 nights (in your country or abroad) in your life
Then... would you have 5 to 7 minutes to help me by filling out this questionnaire? 🙂 »» https://forms.gle/y74ckkvN9TjrougLA
Promise: I’m not selling anything, this isn’t marketing. Your answers are 100% anonymous and will only help me shape this wild project. A huge thank you to everyone for your help and kindness! Looking forward to chatting in this thread 😛
(Dear admins, this is purely a collaborative effort for my project study, with no commercial purpose. Thank you so much for your support!)
Photo: Grizzly Bear (Ursus arctos horribilis), female on the left and her cub on the right. Photo taken by me in Alaska, Denali National Park.
My project: I’d love to share this experience through a sustainable, authentic, and immersive nature tourism initiative. But to build something meaningful, I need to understand how other nature enthusiasts experience their own adventures.
If you:
Are over 20 years old
Have a true passion for Nature
Have already taken at least one trip lasting more than 3 nights (in your country or abroad) in your life
Then... would you have 5 to 7 minutes to help me by filling out this questionnaire? 🙂 »» https://forms.gle/y74ckkvN9TjrougLA
Promise: I’m not selling anything, this isn’t marketing. Your answers are 100% anonymous and will only help me shape this wild project. A huge thank you to everyone for your help and kindness! Looking forward to chatting in this thread 😛
(Dear admins, this is purely a collaborative effort for my project study, with no commercial purpose. Thank you so much for your support!)
Photo: Grizzly Bear (Ursus arctos horribilis), female on the left and her cub on the right. Photo taken by me in Alaska, Denali National Park.
Hello everyone,
It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.
A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question. They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???
Not even a simple thank you!!!
From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕 Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????
Please forgive my little rant.
Wishing everyone all the best. Cheers,
Puma2A

...
It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.
A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question. They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???
Not even a simple thank you!!!
From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕 Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????
Please forgive my little rant.
Wishing everyone all the best. Cheers,
Puma2A

...
I spent 3 weeks in Bali last summer (+ 3 nights on Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java). So I wanted to see what ChatGPT could suggest for comparison...
Here’s the prompt I gave:
"You’re a local expert guide for Bali.
- Plan a 20-day itinerary for Bali with a side trip to Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java without staying overnight.
- I’m traveling with my wife, and I love visiting historical sites, hiking, relaxing at the beach, snorkeling, and exploring rice terraces...
- For the duration of the stay, I don’t want more than 8 places to sleep, and I’d like to stay at least 2 days at each stop to avoid unpacking too often. Except for the last night, where I’m okay with just one night near the airport.
- I prefer neighborhoods that are walkable and try to avoid typical tourist traps, though I don’t want to miss the must-see spots. So suggest a mix of iconic sites and hidden gems.
- Recommend hotels or guesthouses with a budget of 50 to 100 € per night, including breakfast. Make suggestions in areas popular with travelers, specifying the vibe (I prefer quiet), and consider safety and proximity to attractions.
- For lunch and dinner, suggest two to three restaurants that are well-rated by customers.
- Give me a day-by-day program with details on travel times, visiting times for each point of interest, and recommendations for transportation (taxi, train, bike, etc.). Estimate the total cost of the trip, including accommodations, food, transportation, and activities, and suggest two tips for saving money in each category.
- Don’t make anything up—be realistic about travel times, take into account the opening dates and hours of sites, and give me the entry fees for places to visit.
- Ask me all the questions until you’re 95% sure you understand what’s being asked. Don’t generate your response until you’ve understood."
The AI asked for a few clarifications:
"Great request—I can build you a really optimized and enjoyable itinerary, but to be 95% sure I hit the mark, I need a few key clarifications (this will really influence the pace, areas, and accommodations)."
In the end, it proposed a program very close to what we actually did. I’ll skip its accommodation and restaurant suggestions...
Its proposal:
"Ubud (4 nights) => we did 5 nights Sidemen (2 nights) Amed (3 nights) => we’d planned 2 nights Gili Meno (3 nights) => we did Gili between Sidemen and Amed Munduk (3 nights) => we did 2 nights before Pemuteran Pemuteran (3 nights) with Ijen => we did 4 nights Sanur (2 nights + 1 last night) => we chose Jatiluwih instead of Sanur
It suggested "activities" (and accommodations too):
IN UBUD: - Walk around central Ubud (1–2h) - Campuhan Ridge Walk - Tegalalang Rice Terrace - Tirta Empul - Gunung Kawi - Massage / market / slow café
IN SIDEMEN: - Rice terrace hike (2–3h) - Cooking class
IN AMED: - Snorkeling - Japanese Shipwreck - Beach + relaxation - Volcano sunset
ON GILI: - Snorkeling at Gili Meno Turtle Point, Nest Underwater Statues
IN MUNDUK: - Jungle & waterfall hike - Munduk Waterfall + Melanting Waterfall - Loop: 3–4h (perfect for your level) - Ulun Danu Bratan Temple - Twin Lakes
IN PEMUTERAN - Snorkeling: Menjangan Island
For Kawah Ijen, it detailed the day well: 👍 from Pemuteran = best possible option 12 PM: leave hotel (we left at 10 PM) 1 PM: ferry 3 PM: arrival in Java + transfer 11 PM: start ascent 2 AM–6 AM: volcano Return to Bali around 11 AM–12 PM (we got back at 4 PM) 👍 still very intense, but doable with an agency 💰 ~80–120 €/person all-inclusive
IN SANUR: - Relaxation - Quiet beach - Proximity to airport (30 min)"
BUDGET: "3,000 – 3,900 € for 2 people" (We paid 3,200 €)
In conclusion, it’s not (yet) enough, but it’s (already) pretty impressive!
Here’s the prompt I gave:
"You’re a local expert guide for Bali.
- Plan a 20-day itinerary for Bali with a side trip to Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java without staying overnight.
- I’m traveling with my wife, and I love visiting historical sites, hiking, relaxing at the beach, snorkeling, and exploring rice terraces...
- For the duration of the stay, I don’t want more than 8 places to sleep, and I’d like to stay at least 2 days at each stop to avoid unpacking too often. Except for the last night, where I’m okay with just one night near the airport.
- I prefer neighborhoods that are walkable and try to avoid typical tourist traps, though I don’t want to miss the must-see spots. So suggest a mix of iconic sites and hidden gems.
- Recommend hotels or guesthouses with a budget of 50 to 100 € per night, including breakfast. Make suggestions in areas popular with travelers, specifying the vibe (I prefer quiet), and consider safety and proximity to attractions.
- For lunch and dinner, suggest two to three restaurants that are well-rated by customers.
- Give me a day-by-day program with details on travel times, visiting times for each point of interest, and recommendations for transportation (taxi, train, bike, etc.). Estimate the total cost of the trip, including accommodations, food, transportation, and activities, and suggest two tips for saving money in each category.
- Don’t make anything up—be realistic about travel times, take into account the opening dates and hours of sites, and give me the entry fees for places to visit.
- Ask me all the questions until you’re 95% sure you understand what’s being asked. Don’t generate your response until you’ve understood."
The AI asked for a few clarifications:
"Great request—I can build you a really optimized and enjoyable itinerary, but to be 95% sure I hit the mark, I need a few key clarifications (this will really influence the pace, areas, and accommodations)."
In the end, it proposed a program very close to what we actually did. I’ll skip its accommodation and restaurant suggestions...
Its proposal:
"Ubud (4 nights) => we did 5 nights Sidemen (2 nights) Amed (3 nights) => we’d planned 2 nights Gili Meno (3 nights) => we did Gili between Sidemen and Amed Munduk (3 nights) => we did 2 nights before Pemuteran Pemuteran (3 nights) with Ijen => we did 4 nights Sanur (2 nights + 1 last night) => we chose Jatiluwih instead of Sanur
It suggested "activities" (and accommodations too):
IN UBUD: - Walk around central Ubud (1–2h) - Campuhan Ridge Walk - Tegalalang Rice Terrace - Tirta Empul - Gunung Kawi - Massage / market / slow café
IN SIDEMEN: - Rice terrace hike (2–3h) - Cooking class
IN AMED: - Snorkeling - Japanese Shipwreck - Beach + relaxation - Volcano sunset
ON GILI: - Snorkeling at Gili Meno Turtle Point, Nest Underwater Statues
IN MUNDUK: - Jungle & waterfall hike - Munduk Waterfall + Melanting Waterfall - Loop: 3–4h (perfect for your level) - Ulun Danu Bratan Temple - Twin Lakes
IN PEMUTERAN - Snorkeling: Menjangan Island
For Kawah Ijen, it detailed the day well: 👍 from Pemuteran = best possible option 12 PM: leave hotel (we left at 10 PM) 1 PM: ferry 3 PM: arrival in Java + transfer 11 PM: start ascent 2 AM–6 AM: volcano Return to Bali around 11 AM–12 PM (we got back at 4 PM) 👍 still very intense, but doable with an agency 💰 ~80–120 €/person all-inclusive
IN SANUR: - Relaxation - Quiet beach - Proximity to airport (30 min)"
BUDGET: "3,000 – 3,900 € for 2 people" (We paid 3,200 €)
In conclusion, it’s not (yet) enough, but it’s (already) pretty impressive!
Hello everyone,
I’m sharing the menu posted at the entrance of a bar at the foot of the Porto Tower in Southern Corsica. . .
.
.
Greetings and have a great Sunday.
Puma2A . .

...
I’m sharing the menu posted at the entrance of a bar at the foot of the Porto Tower in Southern Corsica. . .
.
.Greetings and have a great Sunday.
Puma2A . .

...
I’ve kept the habit of blowing my nose in the sink and then washing my hands—a custom I picked up in India. Sometimes, non-travelers are shocked when they catch me in the act... 🤪
Also, when I run out of toilet paper, it doesn’t bother me—unless I’ve got company over... 🤪
Just got back from walking a friend’s dog (while they’re on vacation), wearing a djellaba and Tibetan boots... 😏😏😏 Oh, for sure, if I’d run into locals, I probably would’ve shocked them? 😏
Anyway, as long as I’m not spitting on the floor at a restaurant or squatting on the side of a highway with a water bottle in hand...
Do you bring back customs from your travels?
Also, when I run out of toilet paper, it doesn’t bother me—unless I’ve got company over... 🤪
Just got back from walking a friend’s dog (while they’re on vacation), wearing a djellaba and Tibetan boots... 😏😏😏 Oh, for sure, if I’d run into locals, I probably would’ve shocked them? 😏
Anyway, as long as I’m not spitting on the floor at a restaurant or squatting on the side of a highway with a water bottle in hand...
Do you bring back customs from your travels?
After taking a little trip around the world, I came back a few months ago with an idea in mind.
I mostly do diving, and I love observing animals in their natural habitat without disturbing them.
During the trip, I realized it was quite complicated to know where and when to see certain species.
For example:
where to dive with sharks or manta rays where you might get a chance to swim with whales
I even discovered thresher sharks during my trip… I didn’t even know this species existed before, even though they’re incredible to see.
We spent a ton of time searching for info all over the place, especially on social media, without ever getting a clear picture.
So I started putting all this together on my own, in the form of a map, to make it easier to visualize where to go depending on the seasons.
I recently put a first version online (it’s called Fauneya). There are probably mistakes, inconsistencies, or things to improve, and that’s partly why I’m posting here.
I’d really love to know how you all go about planning this kind of trip.
I mostly do diving, and I love observing animals in their natural habitat without disturbing them.
During the trip, I realized it was quite complicated to know where and when to see certain species.
For example:
where to dive with sharks or manta rays where you might get a chance to swim with whales
I even discovered thresher sharks during my trip… I didn’t even know this species existed before, even though they’re incredible to see.
We spent a ton of time searching for info all over the place, especially on social media, without ever getting a clear picture.
So I started putting all this together on my own, in the form of a map, to make it easier to visualize where to go depending on the seasons.
I recently put a first version online (it’s called Fauneya). There are probably mistakes, inconsistencies, or things to improve, and that’s partly why I’m posting here.
I’d really love to know how you all go about planning this kind of trip.
As part of my Master’s thesis, I’m currently conducting a public survey on a topic that concerns all of us when planning a trip: artificial intelligence and the role of human contact in travel planning.
These days, we’re using more and more digital tools to find ideas, compare options, and book trips... but is the role of human advisors still essential? At what moments? And for what types of trips?
The survey is anonymous and takes about 7 minutes.
It’s aimed at anyone who travels (or has traveled) for leisure, whether you plan everything yourself or go through an agency.
Survey link: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdkmBzW2QOE3_ZirhmdG8e2LQyaWLJxWUeyTR0LzpC8ytlufQ/viewform
Your response will be a huge help for my work and will contribute to a broader reflection on the future of the travel experience.
Thanks in advance to everyone who takes the time to participate!!
These days, we’re using more and more digital tools to find ideas, compare options, and book trips... but is the role of human advisors still essential? At what moments? And for what types of trips?
The survey is anonymous and takes about 7 minutes.
It’s aimed at anyone who travels (or has traveled) for leisure, whether you plan everything yourself or go through an agency.
Survey link: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdkmBzW2QOE3_ZirhmdG8e2LQyaWLJxWUeyTR0LzpC8ytlufQ/viewform
Your response will be a huge help for my work and will contribute to a broader reflection on the future of the travel experience.
Thanks in advance to everyone who takes the time to participate!!
While browsing the forum to gather info for my upcoming trip to Thailand, I often see the terms "traveler," "great traveler," and also "tourist"—so what’s the nuance for you?
I've traveled quite a bit in Vietnam over the past few years—from the southern delta to bustling cities and even some small islands—but what really sticks with me is the north, the high mountains.
Up there, there's something different—maybe slower, more raw. The morning markets with ethnic groups, women in traditional clothes, the colors...
The stilt houses, kids following you and laughing for no reason, the terraced rice fields—it almost feels unreal at times, so vast and quiet, yet so human and simple.
You often hear that Sapa has become too touristy, and that's partly true, especially in the center. But as soon as you move a little farther away, everything changes quickly. The landscapes open up, encounters feel more natural, and you rediscover something truly authentic.
I think it's that contrast that struck me—the difference between what you imagine before going and what you actually discover when you take the time.
And you—what memory do you hold onto from Vietnam? A particular place that touched you more than others?
Hello,
We’re finalizing the plans for our upcoming trip to China in May 2025. The second-to-last stop will be in Zhangjiajie, where we’ve planned to stay for 2 full days before heading to Shanghai.
We’re traveling solo using local transport and have arranged to stay in the city of Zhangjiajie.
We’ve seen that there’s a lot to see: Tianmen Mountain, the Grand Canyon and the glass bridge, Zhangjiajie National Park, and that the sites are quite far apart with fairly expensive entry fees. We’re thinking of dedicating one day to the national park and the Grand Canyon (glass bridge) and one day to Tianmen Mountain. But we’re not sure if this plan is realistic—any thoughts would be much appreciated!
Do you know if it’s possible to get around on our own, or is it better to go through a local agency or book a package like the one sold by TravelChinaGuide? https://www.travelchinaguide.com/package/zhangjiajie/2days-tour.htm
Thanks in advance for your advice! Alod
We’ve seen that there’s a lot to see: Tianmen Mountain, the Grand Canyon and the glass bridge, Zhangjiajie National Park, and that the sites are quite far apart with fairly expensive entry fees. We’re thinking of dedicating one day to the national park and the Grand Canyon (glass bridge) and one day to Tianmen Mountain. But we’re not sure if this plan is realistic—any thoughts would be much appreciated!
Do you know if it’s possible to get around on our own, or is it better to go through a local agency or book a package like the one sold by TravelChinaGuide? https://www.travelchinaguide.com/package/zhangjiajie/2days-tour.htm
Thanks in advance for your advice! Alod
Hello 🙂
I should be serving a warming drink to the participants in the discussion about gardens and parks that provide us with beautiful photos, I could mention the delicious buttery scent wafting from bakeries in the thread about returning to France, but my heart, its powerful pulse that nourishes my entire being, is elsewhere.
Dasht-e Lut, Yazd, Esfahan, Bam, Kerman, Qeshm, Hormuz—a melody, a prayer at the heart of desire.
A dream, an unattainable fantasy? No. Not anymore. A very serious Italian travel agency is organizing this trip for 6 people this winter. I’m signed up, I’m going, I’m living. Maybe.
"But you’re completely crazy!!!!"
I know... I know that every civilization, every society has a vital need to create scapegoats to define and justify itself, pathetically. And Iran is one of them, top of the list. I laugh or sigh, and it doesn’t bother me.
But that unchanging red, deep red and garnet, so beautiful in itself, in all the Western chancelleries repeats, whispers, shouts: don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, you’re putting yourself in danger and we can’t do anything for you. You’ll be turned into mere bargaining chips, into arguments for endless negotiations. Fear must be instilled, its power absolutely preserved, no concessions made to the enemy. The information (how many French hostages, real or fake, compared to the number of travelers?) is always lacking.
Traveling becomes a merciless confrontation between desire, the vital pulse, and anxiety, its ghosts.
Catherine
I should be serving a warming drink to the participants in the discussion about gardens and parks that provide us with beautiful photos, I could mention the delicious buttery scent wafting from bakeries in the thread about returning to France, but my heart, its powerful pulse that nourishes my entire being, is elsewhere.
Dasht-e Lut, Yazd, Esfahan, Bam, Kerman, Qeshm, Hormuz—a melody, a prayer at the heart of desire.
A dream, an unattainable fantasy? No. Not anymore. A very serious Italian travel agency is organizing this trip for 6 people this winter. I’m signed up, I’m going, I’m living. Maybe.
"But you’re completely crazy!!!!"
I know... I know that every civilization, every society has a vital need to create scapegoats to define and justify itself, pathetically. And Iran is one of them, top of the list. I laugh or sigh, and it doesn’t bother me.
But that unchanging red, deep red and garnet, so beautiful in itself, in all the Western chancelleries repeats, whispers, shouts: don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, you’re putting yourself in danger and we can’t do anything for you. You’ll be turned into mere bargaining chips, into arguments for endless negotiations. Fear must be instilled, its power absolutely preserved, no concessions made to the enemy. The information (how many French hostages, real or fake, compared to the number of travelers?) is always lacking.
Traveling becomes a merciless confrontation between desire, the vital pulse, and anxiety, its ghosts.
Catherine
Hi everyone, here’s our itinerary. Arriving on the evening of December 13th. Departing on January 7th.
Thanks in advance for your tips and valuable feedback.
Manila – 1 night Coron – 4 nights Coron to El Nido cruise – 2 nights El Nido – 4 nights Port Barton – 5 nights Flight from Puerto Princesa to Vigan Vigan – 2 nights Sagada – 2 nights Banaue – 2 nights Bagabag – 1 night Manila – 1 night I’ve only booked the flight to Manila and the Manila/Coron flight so far. Is it possible to book boat trips, accommodations, and the Puerto Princesa flight last-minute?
Thanks in advance. Florence
Manila – 1 night Coron – 4 nights Coron to El Nido cruise – 2 nights El Nido – 4 nights Port Barton – 5 nights Flight from Puerto Princesa to Vigan Vigan – 2 nights Sagada – 2 nights Banaue – 2 nights Bagabag – 1 night Manila – 1 night I’ve only booked the flight to Manila and the Manila/Coron flight so far. Is it possible to book boat trips, accommodations, and the Puerto Princesa flight last-minute?
Thanks in advance. Florence
Really disappointed with Costa Rica! Pura vida? The scam of the century!
(Costa Rica pure emptiness).
The country where animals are free and people are in cages. 3 weeks in December in this country and never again. Imagine the trailer of a movie that seems interesting, and when you go see it, you realize it’s a flop and the best moments were in the trailer. Well, that’s exactly how we felt with Costa Rica pure emptiness. My wife and I have traveled quite a bit and didn’t expect to be so wrong about a place. On the main routes, we visited: San José Alajuela Limón, Cahuita, Puerto Viejo, Manzanillo (Caribbean side) Jaco, Quepos, Manuel Antonio (Pacific side) And a few short stops in intermediate towns.
Our dissatisfaction grew gradually like this:
When we arrived at the hotel, the taxi dropped us off on a small street in front of a white metal gate with ground-floor windows barred. We looked at it skeptically, but the sign matched. He approached the gate, rang the bell, the buzzer sounded, and the door opened slightly. The hotel wasn’t bad for the price, a 10-minute walk from downtown, but with a "Fleury-Mérogis" vibe guaranteed.
So far, so good.
After showering and regaining our bearings, we headed downtown. What started to unsettle us on the way was seeing houses with bars on the ground-floor windows and even on the second floor. At first, we thought the hotel’s neighborhood wasn’t great.
Downtown San José: It’s a generic city, not very exotic, with a pedestrian street and a small mercado where you can eat local food without frills. Very few tourists—if any—which let you blend in with the locals. We had lunch and struggled to make ourselves understood because, aside from one or two shops, English wasn’t spoken. On the way back to the hotel, we took a different route, and while chatting and strolling, my wife pointed out a beautiful two-story white house completely barricaded like Fort Knox. From that moment, we started noticing the facades of houses and buildings, and wow, it was creepy—most looked like prisons, some even with barbed wire. Though put off, we told ourselves it was probably a big-city thing and the rest of the country couldn’t be like this.
So far, so good.
We relaxed at the hotel and had a drink at the bar. Night falls early, around 5:30 PM. By 7:30 PM, we headed back downtown for dinner. A bit unsettling for a capital—downtown was almost deserted, and aside from fast-food chains, very few restaurants were open, with hardly anyone on the streets. Bars with security guards out front. I won’t say we felt unsafe that night, but once it got dark, we realized the bars on the windows weren’t for nothing. First day in, and our impression was already mixed.
The next day, we explored the city and surroundings, and our feelings didn’t change.
So far, so good.
Off to Cahuita by bus—4 hours of travel. The landscapes are very green but quickly become monotonous. The road runs alongside the forest and passes through a few towns and villages, and even in the countryside, there were just as many prison-like houses. The bus dropped us off at Cahuita’s terminal station—only four of us got off. It’s a village, or rather, a small town. Cahuita is basically one straight road and a perpendicular one, and honestly, doubt started to creep in. A few restaurants that add 13% tax and 10% service charge—so 23% extra. We dropped our stuff at the hotel and went to explore. In 20 minutes, we’d seen it all. We had lunch and planned to check out the famous park. Entry is by donation—well, the "entry" is a joke. There’s a path along the forest by the sea, and that’s it.
Nothing’s going right anymore.
We thought it was a total scam, but since we hadn’t gone far, we decided to come back the next day to explore further. We returned to the hotel, relaxed, and around 8:00 PM, we went out for dinner. Only two restaurants were open, and the streets were deserted.
Creepy!
The next day, we explored the so-called park more thoroughly and really got it. A path along the forest by the sea—2 hours there and 2 hours back, where you see animals that feel like showing their faces. A total joke—"all that for this?"
The beach was full of wood debris and coconut husks. We wondered if the photos online were edited because the sea, very rough, wasn’t the azure blue we’d seen in pictures. But calling this a park is a joke—it’s like a new concept.
When we thought about the reviews online, we started to suspect that professionals with interests in the country were monitoring and countering any negative feedback that could harm their business. Too bad we didn’t check the negative reviews beforehand—we did while we were there, and it helped. We wondered if we’d become too demanding after all our travels, but no—when something’s bad, it’s bad.
Manuel Antonio’s park is even more ridiculous—there’s a short path along the sea for about 500 meters, and then nothing. You have to climb through mud and hack your way through the forest. We ended up barefoot because the mud was up to our calves. All that to see a raccoon and a few parrots flying overhead.
We didn’t expect Noah’s Ark, but we’ve seen more animals in Bali, Mexico, and Thailand while visiting temples or just walking around than in these so-called parks!
Puerto Viejo, not far from Cahuita and supposedly livelier—well, it couldn’t be worse! According to Lonely Planet, it had a Caribbean vibe and wild nights, but maybe that was a long time ago. The good reggae music playing everywhere isn’t enough.
In the evening, Puerto Viejo was a bit livelier than Cahuita, but that’s not saying much. Very few tourists—if any—no night market, just two or three shops open selling $20 T-shirts. Same vibe as San José.
No big deal—we enjoyed the beach and the sun, which was reliable. Our itinerary was supposed to include Tortuguero Park, but after talking to other travelers who’d just been, we changed our minds, knowing we’d be visiting Manuel Antonio Park on the Pacific side.
To get back to the Pacific side, you have to take the bus and go through San José again—5 hours this time—then switch bus terminals and another 4.5 hours to Quepos. A stopover town to get to Manuel Antonio’s beach and park! A town just like the others we’d seen—deserted as soon as the sun sets, and not exactly bustling during the day either. (Where are all the tourists?)
Still as many bars on the windows and that feeling of being in the wrong place.
7 km later: Manuel Antonio beach and park. The beach is very beautiful and quite large, but don’t expect turquoise blue water—the waves stir up the sand, giving the water a brownish color. Along the beach, shops and restaurants for about 300 meters, and then nothing. At night, after sunset, the town shuts down too.
Manuel Antonio Park is highly praised for its wildlife, so we were eager to see it. When you express dissatisfaction with Cahuita or Manzanillo parks, the response is always, "But you should’ve gone to Monteverde or Manuel Antonio!" No matter what you do or say, they’ll tell you, "You should’ve gone there or here."
Back to our famous park—entry was about $16, and contrary to what we’d heard, it wasn’t crowded! Guides at the entrance with spotting scopes offered their services for about $30. The park: a mix of boardwalk and dirt paths through the forest, sometimes running alongside beautiful coves and beaches. As soon as we entered, a crowd was taking photos of a deer eating leaves. A little further on, a guide with a group of five stopped. The guide raised his arm and set up his spotting scope! He showed them, about 100 meters away, a hummingbird perched on a branch. Some, looking through the scope, exclaimed, "Oh my God! Amazing! Incredible!" For a moment, we thought they’d discovered a unicorn or were in Jurassic Park and had just crossed paths with a T-Rex! The concept is comical—looking at a bird or another animal through a spotting scope because it’s too far away. Isn’t that what TV is for? For our part, we saw monkeys, ants, an armadillo, an iguana, and the backside of a sloth climbing a tree. Amazing, incredible!
We stayed a few days in Manuel Antonio to enjoy the beach, changing hotels often because prices varied wildly from one day to the next for shameful services. On top of that, they’d quote a price in dollars and convert it at their discretion—thieves!
Alajuela, a city near the airport, has a two-story mall and a local market downtown! No interest except its proximity to the airport.
What we liked:
The climate and, in hindsight, San José—the most authentic city we visited.
What we didn’t like, in addition to what we’ve already mentioned:
Costa Ricans aren’t very friendly or communicative. English is barely spoken, not even by doctors at Quepos Hospital, where my wife ended up with food poisoning (thanks, Google Translate). The widespread obesity among Costa Ricans, who eat like Americans. The insecurity. The eco-hipsters who leave their $150 lodges in minivans with guides to visit parks and other sites, then return to barricade themselves in their fortresses at nightfall (oh my God, amazing, incredible). The blue signs at the entrance of towns that accept this payment method: "We accept American Express." Parking lots that become paid just because a guy is watching your car. Prices displayed in dollars. The cost of living (hotels, restaurants, taxes). Landscapes that are too green and not flowery enough. Beaches—nothing exceptional. Pollution in cities where big American trucks rule. Sewage dumped directly into the sea. Aside from the jungle, there’s nothing to visit—no ruins, monuments, or anything worth seeing.
In short, my wife and I think the hype about this supposedly eco-friendly country is overrated. It’s just the trendy destination of the moment. There are much better, cheaper, and more authentic places. In hindsight, we keep the good memories and our beautiful photos, but if we had to do it over...
Before signing off, a little message to those who don’t like hearing opinions different from theirs: Well, some things aren’t up for debate. And to those who’d have us believe that in 3 weeks, we don’t have the right to criticize a country or express our feelings—how can you praise it in so little time? What a scam. Costa Rica is a money pit. Pura vida? Pure cosmic emptiness.
If you like spending your evenings barricaded in your cozy hotel after dark, this country is for you. For everyone else: run!
The country where animals are free and people are in cages. 3 weeks in December in this country and never again. Imagine the trailer of a movie that seems interesting, and when you go see it, you realize it’s a flop and the best moments were in the trailer. Well, that’s exactly how we felt with Costa Rica pure emptiness. My wife and I have traveled quite a bit and didn’t expect to be so wrong about a place. On the main routes, we visited: San José Alajuela Limón, Cahuita, Puerto Viejo, Manzanillo (Caribbean side) Jaco, Quepos, Manuel Antonio (Pacific side) And a few short stops in intermediate towns.
Our dissatisfaction grew gradually like this:
When we arrived at the hotel, the taxi dropped us off on a small street in front of a white metal gate with ground-floor windows barred. We looked at it skeptically, but the sign matched. He approached the gate, rang the bell, the buzzer sounded, and the door opened slightly. The hotel wasn’t bad for the price, a 10-minute walk from downtown, but with a "Fleury-Mérogis" vibe guaranteed.
So far, so good.
After showering and regaining our bearings, we headed downtown. What started to unsettle us on the way was seeing houses with bars on the ground-floor windows and even on the second floor. At first, we thought the hotel’s neighborhood wasn’t great.
Downtown San José: It’s a generic city, not very exotic, with a pedestrian street and a small mercado where you can eat local food without frills. Very few tourists—if any—which let you blend in with the locals. We had lunch and struggled to make ourselves understood because, aside from one or two shops, English wasn’t spoken. On the way back to the hotel, we took a different route, and while chatting and strolling, my wife pointed out a beautiful two-story white house completely barricaded like Fort Knox. From that moment, we started noticing the facades of houses and buildings, and wow, it was creepy—most looked like prisons, some even with barbed wire. Though put off, we told ourselves it was probably a big-city thing and the rest of the country couldn’t be like this.
So far, so good.
We relaxed at the hotel and had a drink at the bar. Night falls early, around 5:30 PM. By 7:30 PM, we headed back downtown for dinner. A bit unsettling for a capital—downtown was almost deserted, and aside from fast-food chains, very few restaurants were open, with hardly anyone on the streets. Bars with security guards out front. I won’t say we felt unsafe that night, but once it got dark, we realized the bars on the windows weren’t for nothing. First day in, and our impression was already mixed.
The next day, we explored the city and surroundings, and our feelings didn’t change.
So far, so good.
Off to Cahuita by bus—4 hours of travel. The landscapes are very green but quickly become monotonous. The road runs alongside the forest and passes through a few towns and villages, and even in the countryside, there were just as many prison-like houses. The bus dropped us off at Cahuita’s terminal station—only four of us got off. It’s a village, or rather, a small town. Cahuita is basically one straight road and a perpendicular one, and honestly, doubt started to creep in. A few restaurants that add 13% tax and 10% service charge—so 23% extra. We dropped our stuff at the hotel and went to explore. In 20 minutes, we’d seen it all. We had lunch and planned to check out the famous park. Entry is by donation—well, the "entry" is a joke. There’s a path along the forest by the sea, and that’s it.
Nothing’s going right anymore.
We thought it was a total scam, but since we hadn’t gone far, we decided to come back the next day to explore further. We returned to the hotel, relaxed, and around 8:00 PM, we went out for dinner. Only two restaurants were open, and the streets were deserted.
Creepy!
The next day, we explored the so-called park more thoroughly and really got it. A path along the forest by the sea—2 hours there and 2 hours back, where you see animals that feel like showing their faces. A total joke—"all that for this?"
The beach was full of wood debris and coconut husks. We wondered if the photos online were edited because the sea, very rough, wasn’t the azure blue we’d seen in pictures. But calling this a park is a joke—it’s like a new concept.
When we thought about the reviews online, we started to suspect that professionals with interests in the country were monitoring and countering any negative feedback that could harm their business. Too bad we didn’t check the negative reviews beforehand—we did while we were there, and it helped. We wondered if we’d become too demanding after all our travels, but no—when something’s bad, it’s bad.
Manuel Antonio’s park is even more ridiculous—there’s a short path along the sea for about 500 meters, and then nothing. You have to climb through mud and hack your way through the forest. We ended up barefoot because the mud was up to our calves. All that to see a raccoon and a few parrots flying overhead.
We didn’t expect Noah’s Ark, but we’ve seen more animals in Bali, Mexico, and Thailand while visiting temples or just walking around than in these so-called parks!
Puerto Viejo, not far from Cahuita and supposedly livelier—well, it couldn’t be worse! According to Lonely Planet, it had a Caribbean vibe and wild nights, but maybe that was a long time ago. The good reggae music playing everywhere isn’t enough.
In the evening, Puerto Viejo was a bit livelier than Cahuita, but that’s not saying much. Very few tourists—if any—no night market, just two or three shops open selling $20 T-shirts. Same vibe as San José.
No big deal—we enjoyed the beach and the sun, which was reliable. Our itinerary was supposed to include Tortuguero Park, but after talking to other travelers who’d just been, we changed our minds, knowing we’d be visiting Manuel Antonio Park on the Pacific side.
To get back to the Pacific side, you have to take the bus and go through San José again—5 hours this time—then switch bus terminals and another 4.5 hours to Quepos. A stopover town to get to Manuel Antonio’s beach and park! A town just like the others we’d seen—deserted as soon as the sun sets, and not exactly bustling during the day either. (Where are all the tourists?)
Still as many bars on the windows and that feeling of being in the wrong place.
7 km later: Manuel Antonio beach and park. The beach is very beautiful and quite large, but don’t expect turquoise blue water—the waves stir up the sand, giving the water a brownish color. Along the beach, shops and restaurants for about 300 meters, and then nothing. At night, after sunset, the town shuts down too.
Manuel Antonio Park is highly praised for its wildlife, so we were eager to see it. When you express dissatisfaction with Cahuita or Manzanillo parks, the response is always, "But you should’ve gone to Monteverde or Manuel Antonio!" No matter what you do or say, they’ll tell you, "You should’ve gone there or here."
Back to our famous park—entry was about $16, and contrary to what we’d heard, it wasn’t crowded! Guides at the entrance with spotting scopes offered their services for about $30. The park: a mix of boardwalk and dirt paths through the forest, sometimes running alongside beautiful coves and beaches. As soon as we entered, a crowd was taking photos of a deer eating leaves. A little further on, a guide with a group of five stopped. The guide raised his arm and set up his spotting scope! He showed them, about 100 meters away, a hummingbird perched on a branch. Some, looking through the scope, exclaimed, "Oh my God! Amazing! Incredible!" For a moment, we thought they’d discovered a unicorn or were in Jurassic Park and had just crossed paths with a T-Rex! The concept is comical—looking at a bird or another animal through a spotting scope because it’s too far away. Isn’t that what TV is for? For our part, we saw monkeys, ants, an armadillo, an iguana, and the backside of a sloth climbing a tree. Amazing, incredible!
We stayed a few days in Manuel Antonio to enjoy the beach, changing hotels often because prices varied wildly from one day to the next for shameful services. On top of that, they’d quote a price in dollars and convert it at their discretion—thieves!
Alajuela, a city near the airport, has a two-story mall and a local market downtown! No interest except its proximity to the airport.
What we liked:
The climate and, in hindsight, San José—the most authentic city we visited.
What we didn’t like, in addition to what we’ve already mentioned:
Costa Ricans aren’t very friendly or communicative. English is barely spoken, not even by doctors at Quepos Hospital, where my wife ended up with food poisoning (thanks, Google Translate). The widespread obesity among Costa Ricans, who eat like Americans. The insecurity. The eco-hipsters who leave their $150 lodges in minivans with guides to visit parks and other sites, then return to barricade themselves in their fortresses at nightfall (oh my God, amazing, incredible). The blue signs at the entrance of towns that accept this payment method: "We accept American Express." Parking lots that become paid just because a guy is watching your car. Prices displayed in dollars. The cost of living (hotels, restaurants, taxes). Landscapes that are too green and not flowery enough. Beaches—nothing exceptional. Pollution in cities where big American trucks rule. Sewage dumped directly into the sea. Aside from the jungle, there’s nothing to visit—no ruins, monuments, or anything worth seeing.
In short, my wife and I think the hype about this supposedly eco-friendly country is overrated. It’s just the trendy destination of the moment. There are much better, cheaper, and more authentic places. In hindsight, we keep the good memories and our beautiful photos, but if we had to do it over...
Before signing off, a little message to those who don’t like hearing opinions different from theirs: Well, some things aren’t up for debate. And to those who’d have us believe that in 3 weeks, we don’t have the right to criticize a country or express our feelings—how can you praise it in so little time? What a scam. Costa Rica is a money pit. Pura vida? Pure cosmic emptiness.
If you like spending your evenings barricaded in your cozy hotel after dark, this country is for you. For everyone else: run!
Hello,
Since the war between Russia and Ukraine, nothing is simple anymore for traveling to Belarus due to sanctions.
No more direct flights from the EU to Minsk.
Driving is a huge hassle, especially crossing through Poland at the only open border in Brest—you can wait 2, 3, or even 4 days just to get through by car.
The least painful driving option is to come via Lithuania and cross at the only open border, with a minimum wait time of 8 hours, sometimes up to 20 hours or more!!
Controls are very strict and annoying on both the Lithuanian and Belarusian sides. Avoid bringing alcohol, food, or cigarettes—everything will end up in the trash, especially when leaving Belarus for Vilnius, where the Lithuanians are tough, even with EU citizens.
The joy I once knew when visiting my wife in Minsk is sadly over—it’s now a real ordeal.
The fastest solution is to fly. My wife travels to France by taking a bus to Kaunas in Lithuania, where you can catch a flight (though not daily) to Paris Beauvais or Charleroi in Belgium with Ryanair, for example. For the return trip, it’s the same: a flight to Kaunas and then a direct bus from the airport to Minsk. The bus crossing is quicker than driving—the 250 km journey, including border checks, takes about 6 to 8 hours for buses leaving Lithuania around midnight, but controls are still strict at the border. The biggest challenge is finding flight schedules that align with the bus routes between the two countries, given the unpredictable border crossing times. Now, my wife travels via Charleroi in Belgium (near Brussels), and you can take a train to Paris. Alternatively, you can fly into Beauvais and take a bus to Paris (Porte Maillot). For those driving, note that EU insurance and assistance policies no longer work in Belarus or Russia. You’ll need to get local insurance, usually limited to third-party liability (I don’t think full coverage exists?), as well as mandatory medical insurance. This is available at the border. You now have to pay highway tolls—no more BELTOLL boxes. Instead, you pay a flat fee for the duration of your stay. Stop at the first gas station after crossing from Lithuania to fill up on fuel and cigarettes. From what I know, Lithuania bans carrying more than 60 € in cash, but there’s no limit for USD (though it’s capped at $10,000??). With a Visa card, you can now withdraw 1,000 rubles per week (about 270 €)—two months ago, it was only 500 rubles!! For now, you can still pay by card in shops and gas stations. However, major retailers like KORONA (which may be Russian-owned??) no longer accept foreign Visa cards. Unfortunately, the additional sanctions announced by the U.S. on August 5, 2025, against Russia—and possibly Belarus—aren’t promising for the future. After 20 years of visiting Belarus, I’m truly saddened to see the joy of living in this country with my wonderful wife turn into such a bleak situation, all because of human folly.
The fastest solution is to fly. My wife travels to France by taking a bus to Kaunas in Lithuania, where you can catch a flight (though not daily) to Paris Beauvais or Charleroi in Belgium with Ryanair, for example. For the return trip, it’s the same: a flight to Kaunas and then a direct bus from the airport to Minsk. The bus crossing is quicker than driving—the 250 km journey, including border checks, takes about 6 to 8 hours for buses leaving Lithuania around midnight, but controls are still strict at the border. The biggest challenge is finding flight schedules that align with the bus routes between the two countries, given the unpredictable border crossing times. Now, my wife travels via Charleroi in Belgium (near Brussels), and you can take a train to Paris. Alternatively, you can fly into Beauvais and take a bus to Paris (Porte Maillot). For those driving, note that EU insurance and assistance policies no longer work in Belarus or Russia. You’ll need to get local insurance, usually limited to third-party liability (I don’t think full coverage exists?), as well as mandatory medical insurance. This is available at the border. You now have to pay highway tolls—no more BELTOLL boxes. Instead, you pay a flat fee for the duration of your stay. Stop at the first gas station after crossing from Lithuania to fill up on fuel and cigarettes. From what I know, Lithuania bans carrying more than 60 € in cash, but there’s no limit for USD (though it’s capped at $10,000??). With a Visa card, you can now withdraw 1,000 rubles per week (about 270 €)—two months ago, it was only 500 rubles!! For now, you can still pay by card in shops and gas stations. However, major retailers like KORONA (which may be Russian-owned??) no longer accept foreign Visa cards. Unfortunately, the additional sanctions announced by the U.S. on August 5, 2025, against Russia—and possibly Belarus—aren’t promising for the future. After 20 years of visiting Belarus, I’m truly saddened to see the joy of living in this country with my wonderful wife turn into such a bleak situation, all because of human folly.
Hi everyone!
I’m putting together our travel itinerary for Veneto at the end of April. And the more I look and research potential sites to visit, the more I find!
We’ll only be there for a week—my family and I—including 3 days in Venice. So we have to make some choices...
I plan to rent a car when we arrive in Venice and head straight to Bergamo, which would be our first stop. We’d leave the car at the airport when we return to Venice so we can explore the city at our leisure.
What do you think: 1 night in Bergamo (a 2h15 drive from Venice airport), 1 night in Garda, 1 night in Verona, 1 in Padua, and 3 in Venice—would that be doable?
Thanks in advance for your tips and experiences! :)
What do you think: 1 night in Bergamo (a 2h15 drive from Venice airport), 1 night in Garda, 1 night in Verona, 1 in Padua, and 3 in Venice—would that be doable?
Thanks in advance for your tips and experiences! :)
Now that the curtain has fallen on the past year, it’s time to see what’s happening around here.
It seems pretty quiet, but I’ll read more in detail later.
First, I need to tell you all an anecdote.
My eldest little girl, in her third year of law school, was really scared she wouldn’t pass the year. I told her: “Trust yourself, you’ve worked so hard, and worst case, if you fail, you’ll just redo the year.” “But I don’t think I’ll make it—they changed the rules, and if I mess up even one unit, I have to start all over.” I knew her grades weren’t exactly stellar, and with what I was about to say, I wasn’t taking much of a risk. “Here’s the deal, sweetheart: if you pass, I promise I’ll take you to India, just the two of us.” I have to admit, India is a country I’ve talked about so much to all my grandchildren that in their minds, it’s become a magical, mythical place (hmm).
July had barely begun when my phone rang, her name flashing on the screen. “Mamido, I did it!” My promise came rushing back—oh no, oh no, oh no! “Congratulations, sweetheart!” A little shyly, she said: “Is the India trip still on?”
And me, replying: “Of course it is!”
And that’s that—a promise is a promise, or you risk losing that precious trust that keeps hearts warm and at peace.
We’re leaving in February. Only 8 days—yikes, the carbon footprint! But we can’t miss her tutorials, or she’ll be kicked out. Personally, that works just fine for me.
Going to India has become a challenge for me. It’s far, it’s exhausting, I sweat, I hate mosquitoes, the spices bother my mouth when I used to love them. There’s noise all the time—at night, the dogs bark nonstop, and we almost get run over. I’ll get lost in the streets because my sense of direction has vanished. I don’t like rice anymore. All that chaos and those cultural differences that once enchanted me now just overwhelm me. But I promised.
The upside—and it’s a big one—Raman, the same driver I’ve had forever, will be at the airport with a sign with our names. We’ll stop at the same little shop for chai (or tea, plain and simple) with that aroma that intoxicates me, halfway through the trip.
It’ll be a tiny trip—staying with friends, I’ll show her a few places I love: Chidambaram, Mamallapuram, and the clinic where I worked. Then we’ll head back. My little girl will go home to her parents.
As for me, I’ll leave right away for our Scottish island with Homme for our chilly winter.
How can you love a country so much you want to live there, then suddenly reject it, no longer able to appreciate what once made it special? That’s the mystery of love, I guess.
First, I need to tell you all an anecdote.
My eldest little girl, in her third year of law school, was really scared she wouldn’t pass the year. I told her: “Trust yourself, you’ve worked so hard, and worst case, if you fail, you’ll just redo the year.” “But I don’t think I’ll make it—they changed the rules, and if I mess up even one unit, I have to start all over.” I knew her grades weren’t exactly stellar, and with what I was about to say, I wasn’t taking much of a risk. “Here’s the deal, sweetheart: if you pass, I promise I’ll take you to India, just the two of us.” I have to admit, India is a country I’ve talked about so much to all my grandchildren that in their minds, it’s become a magical, mythical place (hmm).
July had barely begun when my phone rang, her name flashing on the screen. “Mamido, I did it!” My promise came rushing back—oh no, oh no, oh no! “Congratulations, sweetheart!” A little shyly, she said: “Is the India trip still on?”
And me, replying: “Of course it is!”
And that’s that—a promise is a promise, or you risk losing that precious trust that keeps hearts warm and at peace.
We’re leaving in February. Only 8 days—yikes, the carbon footprint! But we can’t miss her tutorials, or she’ll be kicked out. Personally, that works just fine for me.
Going to India has become a challenge for me. It’s far, it’s exhausting, I sweat, I hate mosquitoes, the spices bother my mouth when I used to love them. There’s noise all the time—at night, the dogs bark nonstop, and we almost get run over. I’ll get lost in the streets because my sense of direction has vanished. I don’t like rice anymore. All that chaos and those cultural differences that once enchanted me now just overwhelm me. But I promised.
The upside—and it’s a big one—Raman, the same driver I’ve had forever, will be at the airport with a sign with our names. We’ll stop at the same little shop for chai (or tea, plain and simple) with that aroma that intoxicates me, halfway through the trip.
It’ll be a tiny trip—staying with friends, I’ll show her a few places I love: Chidambaram, Mamallapuram, and the clinic where I worked. Then we’ll head back. My little girl will go home to her parents.
As for me, I’ll leave right away for our Scottish island with Homme for our chilly winter.
How can you love a country so much you want to live there, then suddenly reject it, no longer able to appreciate what once made it special? That’s the mystery of love, I guess.
I’ve visited the U.S. four times myself, including two long road trips. The last one was just this past August...
I won’t be going back. I already felt guilty last August, but recent policies have finally convinced me: the humiliation of Zelensky, authoritarian excesses, Gestapo-like methods for detaining people of foreign origin, the murder of innocent people (a mother shot dead), corruption, insane "tariffs," skyrocketing healthcare costs for Americans, the abduction of foreign figures to secure oil, the requirement to disclose social media accounts, and now... threats and blackmail to forcibly take Greenland—a region that belongs to Denmark and thus the European Union!
The reality is that simply posting this could get me denied entry to the U.S.!
In this context, I just can’t keep spending money there. I loved my trips, but there are so many other countries with stunning landscapes to explore.
So I get why you’d want to travel there. I did, and I loved it. But once a country no longer respects any of the values that made us love it, why go?
How can we even consider traveling to a country that threatens to take one of our territories by force?
I won’t be going back. I already felt guilty last August, but recent policies have finally convinced me: the humiliation of Zelensky, authoritarian excesses, Gestapo-like methods for detaining people of foreign origin, the murder of innocent people (a mother shot dead), corruption, insane "tariffs," skyrocketing healthcare costs for Americans, the abduction of foreign figures to secure oil, the requirement to disclose social media accounts, and now... threats and blackmail to forcibly take Greenland—a region that belongs to Denmark and thus the European Union!
The reality is that simply posting this could get me denied entry to the U.S.!
In this context, I just can’t keep spending money there. I loved my trips, but there are so many other countries with stunning landscapes to explore.
So I get why you’d want to travel there. I did, and I loved it. But once a country no longer respects any of the values that made us love it, why go?
How can we even consider traveling to a country that threatens to take one of our territories by force?
Hi there,
While reading some travel journals, I notice that we always reflect on the people of the countries we visit.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on which people charmed you the most during your travels?
I’m not looking for controversy, just reflections and personal feelings. Looking forward to reading your replies...
While reading some travel journals, I notice that we always reflect on the people of the countries we visit.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on which people charmed you the most during your travels?
I’m not looking for controversy, just reflections and personal feelings. Looking forward to reading your replies...
Hello everyone,
Controversial topic? Not necessarily—maybe just a reflection on a world to come.
I spent the last 15 days of August on a cruise in Greenland, from Kangerlussuaq to Tasiilaq.
I was utterly amazed by this unique world of rock and ice, the little houses in every color, a simple life that’s also complicated by isolation and climate, among other things...
I carry in my heart the kindness of the people I met, the raw and gentle majesty of the icebergs, the colors of the sky...
So, I can’t even imagine a massive presence of raw material prospectors, heavy machinery requiring roads to be built—if that’s even possible—changing their way of life... putting sled dogs out to pasture!
Do fast food and Greenland’s northern lights really mix?
I wouldn’t trade my memories for an ESTA!
All opinions are respectable, which is why this isn’t a controversy—but I’m sorry, I have a soft spot for *my* Greenland.
Best regards,
So, I can’t even imagine a massive presence of raw material prospectors, heavy machinery requiring roads to be built—if that’s even possible—changing their way of life... putting sled dogs out to pasture!
Do fast food and Greenland’s northern lights really mix?
I wouldn’t trade my memories for an ESTA!
All opinions are respectable, which is why this isn’t a controversy—but I’m sorry, I have a soft spot for *my* Greenland.
Best regards,

Hello to all East Africa lovers and nature enthusiasts in general,
While I prepare to share a recap of our latest trip/safari in Kenya soon, I’d like to wish you all a peaceful transition between 2025 and 2026.
Warm regards,
Puma2A.





...








