Discussion · VoyageForum

Translated into English.

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-04-10

Thanks Pascale for sharing your satisfaction. I didn’t expect to get so much positive feedback.

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-04-11

I remember exchanging a few balls with the village tennis instructor. He struggled to keep up with my pace, even though I was practically a beginner at the time. It was amusing to hear Eric tell me I could’ve taught him his job! The envious look he gave my racket spoke volumes; in hindsight, I also regret not leaving it to him.

This adds to my long list of regrets, which of course includes all the countries I never visited and will never see, a few absurd arguments on VF, all those unnecessary stupid things I did—none of these regrets, however, are as heartbreaking as the ones for the things I never did. 😎

The end of our stay was brightened by meeting a very friendly young couple whose first names I’ve unfortunately forgotten. She told me she was Franco-Moroccan, and he was a true product of the capital—a real Parisian who, with his posh accent, always had a ton of incredible stories to tell. They arrived at the annex hotel with their music box, and we immediately hit it off over a peace pipe. It’s so nice and relaxing to meet kind, communicative people without any fuss.

One day, while we were all together at the village market, a few lazy wisps of smoke drifting through our brains, I was intrigued by a dried plant a vendor had on his stall. The Parisian asked me if I knew what it was. I told him it looked like a poppy, but bigger. When he confirmed it was poppy, I couldn’t believe it. You could buy the stuff here like a pound of tomatoes! Then he said, "With this, you can make *rachacha*." - "What’s that?" - "You do it like tea—just steep a few heads. It’s got a pretty good effect and lasts a while. But careful, though—don’t drink anything for a few hours after taking it. Otherwise, your stomach rebels and throws everything up, no warning." He added, "One time, we made some, and after a while, I drank anyway. I swear, I was talking to a guy while walking, didn’t feel a thing coming, and then—bam—I puked right there, mid-conversation, almost naturally, no pain. Didn’t see it coming at all."

My disbelief was written all over my face. I’d met Parisians before who told tall tales, counting on the fact that, unlike them, folks from the provinces hadn’t seen or done much exciting. But then again, I barely knew the guy. Here was a story I hadn’t heard before.

Since they had a vehicle, our new friends offered to take us for a drive into the countryside the next day. Our affable Parisian, ever the planner, suggested we all try some *rachacha* together. We borrowed an old pot from the hotel kitchen and found some kind of electric hot plate with frayed wires that needed to be handled carefully—unless you wanted your hair to stand on end, which, come to think of it, might’ve already been the case. Theory’s all well and good, but nothing beats experimentation, as any researcher would say.

The drive was delightful. As the effects of the mixture kicked in, we took it all in with Olympian calm and extraordinary serenity. During a few stops, we enjoyed exchanging travel stories with a shepherd or two, some camels, and a few wading birds.

These cultural exchanges were fruitful, but after three solid hours, I realized I wasn’t as resistant to thirst as my friends. Even with all the windows open, it was still 40°C. After holding out as best I could—like a camel with a sagging hump—I had to give in and take a few sips of water so my tongue wouldn’t stick to the roof of my mouth and my lips could still form words. Come what may.

It’s amazing how a few sips of water can revive a parched landscape. I felt much better, though I didn’t understand why my friends were hungry. We’d decided to head to a big town and a well-reviewed restaurant. Though in this case, was it more like the *telephone arabe*? We were about to go in when I felt it coming—fast. No warning signs, no nausea or stomach cramps. In a split second, my brain processed: - The Parisian wasn’t lying - I shouldn’t have drunk water - It’s about to come up, and I won’t be able to hold it back - There’s a crowd around us in this town - Run to the corner 3 meters away so I don’t do this in front of everyone—total humiliation.

There was a time when my lightning-fast starts were celebrated in my soccer club, and it’s true you run even faster in an emergency. I bolted, I flew toward the corner. And disaster: the moment I realized the intersection led to another busy street full of people, my stomach violently rejected the intruder—the two-part mix. The spray was powerful but completely painless. When it comes, it comes. Rarely has the saying been more accurate.

I couldn’t help but notice dozens of strangers had witnessed the scene. Most were laughing, the rascals, probably knowing exactly what was going on. All I could do was disappear as quickly as I’d appeared.

So I played a bit part at the restaurant, slipping out now and then like the Road Runner from the cartoons, pushing the speed limit, because every earthquake has aftershocks. The same went for the market visit. In that big village, I’d involuntarily but thoroughly marked my territory, and my consolation was that this day turned out to be the most budget-friendly of the trip—my food budget reduced to next to nothing. Once my body was purified, the rest of the day went by in a lighthearted atmosphere.

That week in Morocco was a magical interlude between two long stretches of being cooped up in the professional world, themselves nestled within an endless 40-plus-year grind. Every now and then, I’d think I wouldn’t have wanted to travel so much if I’d had the option to live without working. Then I’d tell myself that if I didn’t work, I’d travel even more. In the end, just as misery gives value to happiness, travel is all the more savored because it’s a lifeline, a breath of fresh air in an ocean of servitude and gloom...

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Pagaljavab Globetrotter ·2026-04-11

It reads like mother’s milk... of a camel? Is it over??

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-04-11

What suspense! That’s why we can see why some people hope Marien and Pagaljavab keep sharing their travel journals with us! 🙂

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-04-17

We liked it so much that we decided to go back the following year. This time, I was with Maggie, a German girl I’d met... well, in Germany, of course.

It all started with Yann, the little brother of a friend, and his half-French, half-Dutch girlfriend. They’d been nagging me for ages to take me to a techno club in Germany. They kept saying, "You’ll see, knowing you, we’re sure you’ll like it." Eventually, one fine evening, I caved—out of politeness and sheer exhaustion. Yann had a buddy who’d just come back from the Netherlands, where he’d done some shopping and stashed it all in the freezer. As soon as I got in the car, I was told to swallow one of those little pills with a half-moon drawn on it. Top-quality stuff, the kind the Gauls sometimes down to resist the invader. It didn’t take long—we weren’t even at the club yet when I told them I loved them. Only later did I realize what their knowing looks and exchanged smiles meant...

I’d initially had a prejudice against techno music, but I eventually understood that the evolution of modern music, which began in the 1950s with the electrification of guitars, had followed its course to its ultimate point: the fusion of human improvisation with machine capabilities. The result was ultimately very satisfying, as long as there was talent behind it.

Techno clubs had sprouted like mushrooms in German industrial zones. Later, we’d sometimes go to the Jailhouse in Achern, with resident DJs Peter Pan, Tandu, and a charming Indonesian woman whose nickname I can’t remember. That was high-class techno, real trance music—French legends like Laurent Garnier and even David Guetta could take a nap compared to DJs that talented.

But for that first time, we went to this nameless nightclub, sometimes called Blümchen ("little flower") or more often Abflug ("takeoff"). It was located in a large, one-story building on a massive airfield in Lahr, a site that had recently been occupied by Canadian forces stationed in Germany after the war. The place didn’t last long, though, because the staff and certain handpicked clients (no landing allowed!) had a habit of reopening after closing time and lining up long lines (not the airborne kind!) on the counters...

I remember our arrival in the parking lot perfectly—seeing so many cars parked with their doors open and young people dancing around them. I was impressed by the deep bass thumping from that cubic building, while I felt a mix of dizziness, physical well-being bordering on invulnerability, and a warmth pulsing in my stomach and head.

Once inside, once you start dancing, you don’t even think about stopping. From 11 PM to 4 or 5 AM, you lose all sense of time, frozen in... well, ecstasy, obviously.

Between the main dance floor and the restrooms, there was a large mirror. At some point during the night, I caught my own reflection. What a shock—feeling serene and optimistic, perfectly in sync with the hypnotic, almost tranquil rhythm, only to freeze in front of those dilated pupils and that serial-killer stare. A truly singular experience. "You scared me," is the phrase that fits the situation! The most surprising part was rediscovering the sensations of my adolescence, as if the threads of time had suddenly sucked me backward...

A few weeks later, still at the same place, I sat on a bar stool next to a solitary woman. Older than most of the crowd, like me. The first words I said to her were, "You have a beautiful face." Instead of telling me off, she burst out laughing. Life really does what it wants with us!

A few months later, the three of us were walking on the tarmac of Marrakech Airport, but this time for a three-week stay. In the city, we quickly noticed a significant change compared to the previous year—one that would hold true throughout the trip: there was almost no harassment from locals trying to squeeze money out of us in one way or another. At the time, Morocco was known for having one of the lowest return rates in the world. In travel industry jargon, that means vacationers who’d been to Morocco once rarely came back. No one likes to be hassled repeatedly. The tourist police had been set up on June 19, 1995, so we’d just missed its positive influence the year before. In 1996, the situation had completely turned around: it was now possible to explore the country in peace. A few times, we noticed that when someone got a little too pushy, others would quickly step in to let them know it was better not to insist. Without understanding what was said, we deduced that if the police intervened, the penalties were probably pretty harsh...

To mix things up, I’d decided to bring some Kodak film along with my usual Fuji rolls, and I was a bit disappointed with the results, especially in low light. The colors were quite washed out, less vibrant. Now that all this gear has aged, it doesn’t matter much anymore, and at least I can present *something* in terms of illustrations for those brave enough to read this.

In Marrakech, we wandered around and visited a tourist shop that sold just about everything you could imagine bringing home. On a whim, I decided to buy a black onyx egg with white stripes. A pretty imposing decorative object, weighing three kilos—the kind of thing you don’t want to drop from a balcony in a pedestrian zone. After haggling, the price was ridiculously low. The enthusiastic young salesman was really disappointed when I told him I’d just arrived and wouldn’t be walking around with it all the time. He didn’t believe me at all when I promised to come back and pick it up at the end of my stay.

A little later, we managed to find a high-end pastry shop in the Jemaa el-Fna square. I don’t know who the owner was, but the pastries were of French quality—not overly sweet, either. I’ve got a major sweet tooth, especially for chocolate. I bought two and immediately knew I’d hit the jackpot. I was savoring the second one when Eric and Maggie said, "Alright, are we going?" I’d taken too long. Just then, a kid dressed like a beggar appeared in front of me. He didn’t say a word, but his look said it all. He was staring at my cake like he hadn’t eaten in a week. It broke my heart—I didn’t even think twice. I handed him the remaining three-quarters of my pastry, and he didn’t hesitate to stuff it into his mouth. Who knows, maybe he’d never tasted anything that good in his life. Even now, I regret not making the others wait so I could go back to the bakery and load him up with a mountain of pastries.

Wandering through the souks was pleasant and educational, but oh, how gratifying it was to watch the sunrise from a terrace and have breakfast there.

Maggie, who until then had only been to the Algarve—where she’d run into Iron Maiden members who’d bought a castle there—immediately adapted to local customs. I wasn’t too surprised when she wanted a henna tattoo during our visit to the Marrakech souk, but I didn’t think she’d want to buy a djellaba. Sure, the garment was gray—a neutral color—and, I can attest, soft and sensual to the touch. In fact, I found out a few days later that it was a luxury model women often wore at weddings, with a long undershirt beneath. During a walk through the city, I was even more surprised when all the locals stared at her with wide eyes, as if they’d never seen a woman before. Come on, she wasn’t the first Westerner to wear that kind of outfit. In a crowded alley, I thought there must be something special about it that drew so many looks. And then—stunned! On each side, at hip level, there were slits at least ten centimeters long. I hadn’t noticed that. Most importantly—and I didn’t know this—Maggie wasn’t wearing *anything* underneath. Kids might have glimpsed part of her chest, while adults could see a portion of her stomach. "Maggie, everyone’s staring at you." Maggie was so comfortable in the heat that she didn’t take offense. Later, she didn’t wear it much in the city, or maybe just over a swimsuit. Let’s be grateful to all those locals who were shocked but didn’t openly show their disapproval! I probably would’ve been a lot more shocked and worried if I’d known that years later, Iranian scholar Hajatosalem Kazem Sedighi would say: "Women who dress immodestly tempt men, corrupt their chastity, and spread adultery in society, which increases earthquakes."

Maggie was actually a pretty shy girl, which might seem paradoxical given how confident her people can be. She was often very refined, but that didn’t stop her from dropping the occasional blunt remark, like a Prussian helmet, such as: "Kein Schwanz ist so hart wie das Leben." A strikingly realistic quote, though a bit tricky to work into most conversations.

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-04-25

Every time I wandered the streets of a country like that, I felt much more relaxed than back home. It was as if I’d left behind a good part of the conventions, constraints, and stress in my homeland. The freedom of vacation was paired with the freedom of behavior—just mindful not to offend the locals with my attitude. That wasn’t too hard; I’d been taught to respect others well, sometimes too much.

You could say interactions are lighter, easier with complete strangers, especially when they’re full of spontaneity and simplicity.

Since the end of my teens, I haven’t been able to eat breakfast. Apparently, my stomach wakes up long after my brain, and if I eat anything solid within an hour of waking up, I feel like I’ve got a brick in my stomach. So, I’d gotten into the habit of buying a kind of round bread in town later in the morning, which each vendor charged me four dirhams for. One day, I wondered if bargaining might apply to this kind of transaction too—maybe they were charging me more than locals. It wasn’t about the money, but as a young socialist and universalist, it seemed obvious and undeniable that everyone should be treated the same way.

One fine morning, I didn’t wait for the vendor to set the price. I just went for it—I held out two dirhams with the confidence of an old pro who knows the deal. Success! The vendor took them without a fuss, which confirmed to me that I’d been getting the tourist price all along. I was both proud of uncovering the trick and disappointed in myself for not thinking of it sooner.

Then, struck by doubt, I lingered for a moment. Right after me, a local Moroccan bought one of those breads. I paid close attention to what he handed over. You’ll never guess—and I must’ve looked pretty sheepish—it was ONE dirham, the real price! Oh, those guys—they look you right in the eye with a friendly smile, but they still charge you four times the price...

We stayed in Marrakech a little longer than the year before, and I’m embarrassed to admit we missed a ton of must-sees. In the end, maybe we were the inventors of slow travel *and* snobbery toward the beaten path...

If it weren’t for a few photos for posterity, I wouldn’t even remember walking through some of those places. Thankfully, kind internet users later published plenty of detailed travel journals. All I know is that I was probably more touched by the happiness I found in that country than most of them, thanks to some quirk of fate... Some will still grumble about "doping," and they’d be absolutely right.

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-05-01

We took the bus to Oualidia, a good way to keep costs down. With three weeks of travel, you’ve got to make sure you don’t run out of cash after just ten days. Along the way, we saw a storm lingering in the distance, up in the hills. When you don’t know the climate well, you can’t imagine the consequences—where you are—of a storm breaking out kilometers, even tens of kilometers away. Anyway, after a while, the bus stopped for an hour because rivers had suddenly appeared, both in front of and behind us. If you’re unlucky enough to be walking through gorges at that moment, you could easily get knocked over, swept away, and wiped out by the raging torrents that surge from the arid nothingness.

Without the photo, I’d have sworn the storm stayed far away from us. Truth be told, the image makes it look like we faced the apocalypse.

It was a moment of pure joy to rediscover the tranquility of Oualidia, a small town that gives the illusion of never changing. Deep down, we were three pure souls eager to chill, as they say now. The vibe was perfect—it’s so handy and pleasant to have good travel buddies.

We settled back into our second-rate hotel quarters, where the restaurant and its white and gris wines helped acidify the stomach, along with the seafood, the jagged coasts, the local fishermen, and our friends from the previous year. The big boss himself seemed quite happy to see us return. He was especially interested in my camera. I’d read somewhere that imported goods are taxed at around 400% or more, and everyone knows you can score some great deals on certain products in Africa.

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Pagaljavab Globetrotter ·2026-05-01

I’ve been following you from my sleeper cabin between Udaipur and Ahmedabad, the Rajasthan landscapes bathed in the late-afternoon light at my window—the perfect setting for this kind of reading. Gorgeous photos!

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-05-02

I'm touched. Yet, I was a beginner with a pretty basic camera...

From the start, I paid attention to framing and was constantly on the lookout for interesting shots. You're even more careful and precise when you're working with 36-exposure film rolls—developing them isn't free, and you don't see the results for days or even weeks later...

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-05-08

Anyone who’s read some of Jojoone’s travel journals will be struck by the relative lack of preparation for the trip and the absence of detailed references. It’s true that back then, we didn’t have the internet to spend evenings, weekends, or even months researching our future route. What made a difference was that my two buddies were the carefree type, preferring spontaneous discoveries and improvisation. Would I ever have imagined that one day I’d be sharing these little adventures with fellow travelers? Of course not.

Luckily, we were able to pool our meager resources to rent a small Fiat and set off on a modest road trip around the region for a few days.

We headed south with Ouarzazate as our first stop. That meant crossing the mountains, and I must admit I was pleasantly surprised by the different hues of the rocks. I wasn’t expecting that, and since I love surprises, it turned out to be a bonus, making the journey even more enjoyable. Every now and then, during our contemplative stops, I’d make my friends laugh by dramatically exclaiming at the landscape: "Aaaah, eternal Morocco!"

It didn’t take us long to realize that various warnings from the *Guide du Routard* (GDR) were spot-on. For instance, it’s said you should be wary of locals waving at you near a car that appears to be broken down on the side of the road. Their goal is to befriend you and then take you to a small shop where you’ll feel more or less pressured into buying some *zoulis* rugs. Sure, I’d read about it, but I’d filed it under "things that only happen to other people." So when I saw a car with its hood up and two guys waving us down, I remembered what I’d read—and had a little hunch. I just gave a little smile and stepped on the gas, much to their disappointment. Still, what a thankless job—waiting all day just to trick some tourist into spending money!

Around Ouarzazate, someone will always remind you that the outdoor scenes from *Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves* were filmed in the area, and some of the sets are still around. That took me back to the early 70s. Once a semester, we’d get to go to the movies. We’d leave the classroom and walk about 200 meters in pairs to a community hall, where rows of chairs and a huge white screen awaited us. When the lights went out, no threats or orders were needed—total silence would fall. Some of my most magical cinematic experiences happened there. Even in black and white, the summer skies in *Fanfan la Tulipe* were warmer and more majestic than the ones we saw in real life. And *Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves*—on top of that, it was in color. I’ll never forget how Fernandel said "Morgiaaaneeeuh" with that accent or the legendary "Open, Sesame!" In real life, the mother of Fernandel’s girlfriend would often exclaim when she saw him, "It’s *her* Fernand!"—and that’s how his stage name came about...

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-05-16

I’d read in the GDR that as you ventured further south, people’s skin became progressively darker. Indeed, we saw this firsthand. It wasn’t just a myth that you’d sometimes notice a certain hostility toward foreigners. One morning, as we were driving by, some kids actually threw a few stones at us. Oh well, let’s just say they didn’t put much effort into it. Still, just a few dozen kilometers away, attitudes were completely different.

In its historical section, the GDR also explains that over time—and perhaps due to cultural exchanges with other civilizations—the Moroccans of the plains had occasionally broken free from the strong religious, moral, and cultural constraints. Each time, the hardliners would come down from the mountains to restore order and, above all, return things to how they were before. A key element in understanding the reasons behind the persistent stagnation and weight of tradition.

Back in the 90s, I saw a report on M6. It claimed that 50,000 French people or French households had settled in Morocco. I imagine there are at least that many now. Some have beautifully renovated riads, turning them into dream homes. Given the standard of living accessible to the French and the ease of communicating in our native language, I totally get why some of my fellow countrymen made that choice. I wouldn’t have dared take that risk, knowing that Islam could wipe it all away at any moment. Not necessarily in the short term, though. As long as Morocco has enlightened rulers, the country will remain a reliable and trustworthy partner.

What really struck me at that point in our journey, though, was the dreamlike scenery that unfolded before us—ksars and oases surrounded by sand and rocky terrain. It all seemed unreal but turned out to be undeniably beautiful. A Hollywood set, except it was real life. As I often point out, photos will never capture the temperature... Either way, gazing at southern Morocco is pure wonder. We visited a few ksars, but between the overwhelming commercial pitches and the feeling of intruding on the locals’ privacy, we didn’t linger too long.

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

CA Calaf Regular ·2026-05-16

Hi Jojoone,

A huge thank you for this travel journal—it brings back so many memories! And especially thanks for the accuracy and relevance of your comments on Arab-Muslim culture and society, which are still so timely...

Calaf

Kate Globetrotter ·2026-05-16

Hi Jojo

When I look at these photos illustrating your memories, I think that, after all, Morocco hasn’t changed that much :)

Mes photos sur Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/photos/153304262@N05/albums "Le Temps nous égare. Le Temps nous étreint. Le Temps nous est gare. Le Temps nous est train".

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-05-21

Hi Jojo

When I look at these photos that illustrate your memories, I think that, after all, Morocco hasn’t changed that much 🙂

But wow, we sure have! 😛

So, have you picked Oualidia for your next trip there?

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Kate Globetrotter ·2026-05-21

So, have you marked Oualidia for your next trip over there?

I’ve been to Oualidia several times—I’ve got my favorite spot at a little eatery there: L'Araignée Gourmande ;)

Mes photos sur Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/photos/153304262@N05/albums "Le Temps nous égare. Le Temps nous étreint. Le Temps nous est gare. Le Temps nous est train".

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-05-26

After Ouarzazate, we continued on to Zagora and M'Hamid. It was something else to hear myself suddenly exclaim, "M'Hamid, in the Sahara!" with those sharp, illuminated Arabic intonations of some janissary brimming with excitement! I did it regularly as a fan of repetitive comedy, though with a fair dose of irony. Still, it’s nothing when you just tell the story—you had to see and hear it to really get the full effect.

I finally had the chance to see and climb some respectable dunes and exhaust myself completely and pointlessly by racing up them like a madman. Anyway, you might as well act the fool while you’re still young. When you’re older, your body might not handle it, and you’d look ridiculous!

M'Hamid is clearly one of the gates to the Sahara. We wouldn’t have ventured beyond that village for anything in the world—it marked the end of the drivable road and the beginning of an endless *reg*. We got out of the car to soak in the atmosphere before heading back north, but we only stayed outside for a few minutes, with the temperature probably hovering around 50°C.

I’m a little embarrassed to admit we turned down an invitation to a wedding when we crossed paths with the procession in a village. For one, we didn’t know if the person who invited us was even in a position to do so. Plus, given the time, we would’ve missed our stopover hotel for the night. As for me, a Moroccan friend had dragged me to a wedding like that in France, and I’d had an extremely unpleasant impression seeing that big curtain dividing the room in two, separating men and women. It’s said that having foreign guests at a wedding brings good luck, but back then, we were far too detached from any kind of conventions to play the role of good-luck charms.

It was in Zagora that you’d find the famous and mythical sign: "Timbuktu 52 days." If up until then you didn’t feel like an adventurer, that injustice was corrected right there!

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-06-06

Driving with the windows wide open, shirtless and hair blowing in the wind—it’s a beautiful image of freedom, and we didn’t hold back. Of course, women are always somewhat at a disadvantage when it comes to this kind of thing.

This trip through the deep south only made me more addicted to warm temperatures, and I was smart to schedule this vacation at the start of summer to avoid too much of a thermal and psychological shock upon returning. Because back home, "When the low, heavy sky weighs like a lid on the moaning spirit, prey to long boredom, and from the horizon embracing the whole circle, it pours us a black day sadder than the nights..."

So, for the return trip, we passed through Taroudant for no serious reason—sometimes called "the little Marrakech" because of its ramparts. I made a local furious by letting out an exasperated "Halini," as he was the only one who hassled us persistently during our stay. Everyone around him calmed him down and reminded him that this year, it was especially important not to bother tourists.

We also took a look at the legendary Essaouira, a seaside city where Jimi Hendrix (according to the GDR) wanted to buy an entire neighborhood, which didn’t happen due to protests from the locals. Either way, the poor guy wouldn’t have enjoyed it for long...

You can buy all sorts of more or less functional objects made from Barbary thuya wood there. It’s not necessarily a great idea, though, since this wood is adapted to the local, slightly humid climate and cracks quickly once you bring it home.

We could tell that Essaouira is often windy—really windy. Personally, on the seaside ramparts, I felt like I was in Saint-Malo; the photos prove it.

In the surrounding countryside, we saw plenty of argan trees, from which the highly sought-after argan oil is extracted—and it comes at a price. Speaking of which, Kenza Qiraouani Boucetta and Zoubida Charrouf have shown that consuming argan oil and/or applying it to the skin improves skin elasticity in postmenopausal women. Not insignificant info for most VoyageForum users...

This trip was an excellent idea. We ate well everywhere, the landscapes were out of the ordinary, and Morocco is undeniably a destination that’s both close and exotic.

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-06-14

But really, future Mr. Jojoone, was it really necessary or reasonable to put a whole gram in the mint tea at breakfast?

It’s clear that our return to Oualidia gave us plenty of time to shake off all the stress we’d built up in France. We made the most of the beach as much as we could, daydreaming and savoring life in that brief moment of respite.

We even had the pleasure of tasting oysters at a small farm right next to the village.

Having pretty much exhausted the potential of my little Minolta and feeling like I wouldn’t have the enthusiasm to take more photos later, I agreed to sell it to the hotel owner. He accepted the unreasonable price I offered—so much so that I ended up giving it to him for less, on my own initiative. Clearly, I wasn’t cut out for business. Still, it turned out I sold the camera for more than I’d bought it for!

In the end, it wasn’t just stories—when they told us goats climb trees, we saw it happen multiple times. On the other hand, I didn’t expect to call Morocco "the land of plastic bags"—they’re everywhere, carried by the wind, unfortunately. Some of those opaque bags were even used to hide bottles of alcohol, obviously...

Just before heading back, I went back to the shop in Marrakech to pick up my onyx egg. The young seller was both stunned and amazed to see me keep my promise. I left heavily loaded but with a clear conscience.

Since the return flight couldn’t be with Corsair due to technical reasons, we were graciously upgraded on Royal Air Maroc, in a less shaky plane. We were seated right behind Marc Lavoine and his princess at the time, who loved relaxing in this country. At one point, a woman gathered her courage and asked him for an autograph. I’ve always wondered what quirk of the human brain makes us ask for someone’s signature just because they’re famous. Doesn’t that somehow diminish our own value?

In my opinion, memories of beautiful trips are among the most precious things in life. As I always say: "No one can take that away from us anymore."

I dedicate this unusual travel journal to all the censors, the humorless, and those who reject us as soon as our boldness exceeds theirs. And hey, there’s so much worse in this world!

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Pagaljavab Globetrotter ·2026-06-14

Thanks Jojo, this is a unique and magnificent travel journal you’ve shared with us—it goes down as smooth as camel’s milk and ends in the most beautiful way. It’s exactly the kind of retro/introspective journal that overflows a bit from political correctness that I love, both in style and spirit. I followed it with so much pleasure, whether from here in France or to spice up my long trips on India’s roads. And if it inspires a few VF survivors to create some "retro journals," maybe it could give this nearly brain-dead forum a little boost—though I don’t have much hope for that anymore. Thanks again to you!

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-06-14

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. If anyone deserves to receive, it’s those who have given so much. And you’re one of them.

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

69Eric Veteran ·2026-06-14

Thanks for sharing! I followed you all the way through, even if I didn’t chime in as much as I did at the start of your travel journal—our paths kind of diverged... Though, come to think of it, my first big "initiation" trip was to Senegal... Morocco is Africa too, right?

CA Calaf Regular ·2026-06-14

Hello

Thanks for this travel journal of "time passed"—careful, I didn’t say "bygone times"— And then seeing that dear Kasbah of the Oudayas again, where I took my very first steps as a baby, back in the day, on Sunday afternoons... Morocco, it must be said and repeated, is one of the most beautiful countries in the world... along with so many others! Thanks again

FrançoiseVec Regular ·2026-06-15

A huge thank you for this original Moroccan travel journal that I read with great pleasure! Françoise

Xrctn Veteran ·2026-06-21

Merci pour ces chapitres de ce super retro carnet. La première partie était intéressante pour le voyage dans le temps, nombre d'entre-nous ont pu retrouver des souvenirs en commun. J'aurais aimé en connaitre davantage sur ce premier séjour américain.

J'ai également beaucoup apprécié la/les parties concernant le Maroc pour plusieurs raisons plutôt personnelles: la première étant que le Maroc fut mon premier voyage seul (1977), o combien formateur ! que ma femme (rencontrée à Londres l'année suivante) y est née et y a passé ses premières vingt années, et qu'elle m'a, à plusieurs reprises, fait découvrir son Maroc, en particulier son Casa (la dernière fois en compagnie de nos trois filles en... 1995 justement!). Depuis je suis devenu un expert en thé à la menthe, je porte des babouches jaunes depuis 1979 (j'en suis à ma septième paire!) et je sais faire une pastilla décente. Bientôt, je m'attaque aux cornes de gazelle...

Y-a-t'il une suite à ce retro carnet?

https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=6884794;a=6884794

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-06-21

Merci en tout cas pour ce soutien...de bout en bout 😉

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-06-28

OK, au vu de tous tes commentaires au fil du temps, tu dois être la personne à qui j'ai fait le plus plaisir sur VF. Et bien...ce fut un plaisir 🙂

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·2026-06-29

Merci Françoise, un petit mot gentil est toujours apprécié. Ca n'en a pas l'air mais la rédaction a demandé du temps.

« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood

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DrCarter yesterday

Two-week family trip to Colombia in August with 8-year-olds

Hi everyone,

I’d like to share my family trip to Colombia with kids aged 8. After spending hours browsing the forum and only having two weeks there, we decided to focus on two regions: the Coffee Zone for one week and the Caribbean coast for another. We traveled from August 8 to 23.

Day 1 – First stop: Bogotá

We arrived in Bogotá in the evening on an Air France flight—nothing to complain about, decent service, comfortable, and on time. However, the first night was a miss. We’d booked a hotel near the airport (Abitel Prime) for convenience, but the soundproofing was almost nonexistent; we heard planes as if we were on the runway. Luckily, exhaustion helped us sleep well anyway.

Day 2 – Off to the Coffee Zone and Salento

The next morning, we headed to the airport for a domestic flight to Pereira with LATAM. No issues: punctual and efficient, and in 30 minutes, we landed in Pereira. The landing already set a different mood: lush valleys, endless plantations, and humid air. We picked up our rental car from Localiza. Unfortunately, the experience wasn’t smooth—the paperwork took forever, and the wait tested our patience. Finally free, we hit the road to Salento, one of Quindío’s gems. We arrived in the late afternoon and discovered a colorful village bustling with artisan shops and cafés. Our first stroll helped us soak in the atmosphere before dinner at Bambú restaurant—a great surprise with careful cooking and local flavors. We spent the night at Casa Serafín, a charming little hotel, nicely decorated and well-located… but unfortunately very noisy.

Day 3 – The magic of Cocora Valley

This was one of the trip’s highlights. We set off early for Cocora Valley, famous for its giant wax palms, Colombia’s emblem. We chose the 12 km loop recommended by the *Routard*. The landscapes were spectacular: towering palms, rivers, suspension bridges. It felt like walking through a postcard. The weather was perfect. That evening, we dined at Barnabé restaurant—pleasant setting, decent food, but the bill was a bit steep for what it was. Back to Casa Serafín.

Day 4 – Coffee and panoramic views

The plan was a visit to Finca El Ocaso. For 1.5 hours, we followed a passionate guide who explained the entire coffee process, from harvest to cup. Very educational, accessible for both kids and adults, all in a stunning setting. The tour was in English for us, and we translated for our kids, who aren’t bilingual yet. In the afternoon, we climbed to Salento’s viewpoint. The valley view was superb. That evening, we ate at Veggie Garden, a simple and pleasant spot that was a nice change from the heavier meals of previous days.

Day 5 – Horseback ride to Santa Rita Waterfall

We booked a horseback ride with Cocora Magic. It was a real success: calm horses, a beautiful trail, mountain and meadow landscapes, and finally the refreshing and wild Santa Rita Waterfall. Without a doubt, one of the best moments of our time in the region. We even got a bonus ride up a 300-meter hill. We then headed to Filandia, less known than Salento but just as charming. We spent the late afternoon enjoying the pool at MuchoSur Filandia. The hotel is beautiful, in an idyllic setting. However, we also had soundproofing issues and could hear our neighbors.

Day 6 – Rainy detour through Filandia and Manizales

Rain caught up with us in the early morning: torrents of water made it impossible to go out. We stayed at the hotel, reading quietly. By noon, the rain let up: a quick walk in Filandia, a quick lunch, then off to Manizales. We chose to stay at El Otoño hot springs. Great choice: as soon as we arrived, we plunged into the hot pools, perfect after hours on the road.

Day 7 – Hiking and hot springs

In the morning, we hiked the Camino de Super Coco (found somewhat randomly on Google). A pleasant trail with mountain views and a peaceful atmosphere. The afternoon was spent in the hotel’s thermal pools, with a short marked hike down to the river. Dinner on-site at the hot springs’ restaurant. A simple but very relaxing day.

Day 8 – Rain, jacuzzi, and games

We continued to Finca Los Alpes. The rain greeted us again, but this time it turned into an asset: nothing like a steaming jacuzzi with a view of the misty mountains. The kids enjoyed the facilities too: mini-golf, ping-pong, billiards. Dinner and night at the hotel, cozy vibes.

Day 9 – Off to the Caribbean coast

Back to the airport to return the car (still a bit long). Flight to Cartagena with Avianca: punctual and comfortable. Upon arrival, we picked up another car and headed straight to the Hyatt Regency, a modern hotel with a pool. That evening, we dined at the hotel—practical after a travel day.

Day 10 – Colonial Cartagena

We set off to explore Cartagena’s old town. It was enchanting: colorful facades, flowered balconies, colonial charm—just magical. However, the heat was stifling and very humid. Afternoon relaxation by the pool. Dinner at Gestlani, a good restaurant in town.

Day 11 – Road to Barú

A hearty breakfast, then one last swim in the pool before heading to Barú. We checked into Las Islas Hotel. The setting was enchanting: wooden cabins nestled in the vegetation, a private beach, turquoise sea, impeccable service. Dinner at the hotel’s restaurant.

Day 12 – Beach and relaxation

A full beach day in Barú. Warm water, white sand, coconut trees, peace and quiet. A real postcard scene with iguanas and birds.

Day 13 – On to Santa Marta

Another morning at the beach before hitting the road to Santa Marta. The drive was a bit long (6 hours), especially with traffic jams in Barranquilla. It was the longest car ride of the trip. We spent the night at Villa María Tayrona, a beautiful place near the park.

Day 14 – Tayrona Park

We left early for Tayrona Park. We entered through **El Zaino**, parked the car, and set off on a hike to La Piscina (about 2 hours). We stopped along the way at Playa Arenilla, a stunning little beach, to rest. Lunch on-site, a swim, then back by 4 PM. The hike was a bit tiring, but the nature was spectacular: dense jungle, the sound of waves, and even a monkey encounter along the way. Evening and dinner at the hotel.

Day 15 – Last swim and return flight to Bogotá

Our last morning was split between the pool and the beach (the hotel has direct access via a 7-minute trail through vegetation and flowers)—hard to leave this paradise. We drove to Santa Marta’s airport to return the car, then flew back to Bogotá. We spent the night at Casa Dann Carlton, a comfortable hotel. We simply ordered room service, arriving too late to go out.

Day 16 – Bogotá and the end of the trip

Our last day in Colombia. After a good breakfast, we explored La Candelaria. Its cobbled streets and colorful houses were worth the visit. We visited the Botero Museum (free) and the Gold Museum, both fascinating. Back to the airport for our 11:55 PM Air France flight.

That’s a wrap on a varied trip—lush mountains, colorful villages, dream beaches, and tropical jungle. The pace was pretty relaxed, well-suited for our kids. They absolutely loved the trip to Colombia. Driving in Colombia was very easy, and we didn’t regret renting a car at all—it gave us more freedom to get around.

If I were to do it again, here’s what I’d change: - I’d spend less time in the Coffee Zone to stay a bit longer on the Caribbean coast, which was more relaxing for the kids. Or I’d head to Medellín, but I didn’t think the city was very kid-friendly. - Bogotá is a city that deserves a day’s visit, but it’s not a must-see. Maybe I’d have taken the KLM flight from Cartagena to Amsterdam instead.

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate!

Antoine

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Elis yesterday

Trek de 9 jours dans les Balkans

Bonjour, Voici un retour sur un trek dans les Balkans traversant trois pays : Albanie, Monténégro et Kosovo. J'étais avec une amie et nous n'avons pas fait le trajet en entier (1 seul jour au Kosovo). Ce fut un merveilleux trek à travers montagnes encore enneigées et vastes prairies fleuries, au contact de gens hyper accueillants. À la fin du carnet, je mettrai ce que j'ai apprécié, moins apprécié .

Jour 1 : envol depuis Paris-Beauvais vers Tirana avec Wizzair.

L'Albanie ne faisant pas partie de l'Europe concernant la téléphonie en tout cas :-) , nous avons été obligées d'acheter une carte SIM physique (sinon facture faramineuse si vous utilisez votre forfait français!) chez l'opérateur Vodafone AL à l'aéroport. Il est possible d'acheter sur internet avant de partir des forfaits avec une SIM virtuelle (e-sim) pour les téléphones compatibles sans avoir à changer de carte sur le téléphone. Mais devant l'incertitude sur le choix d'un forfait en ligne, nous avons préféré acheter une carte directement à l'aéroport de Tirana. Coût 31 euros pour 100 Go. C'est beaucoup trop 100 Go. Pour 40 Go, c'est 27 euros. Et la durée du forfait est de 21 jours. Bon il n'y a pas beaucoup d'euros de différence. Et c'était moins cher que sur internet. Ce forfait couvre bien tous les pays traversés par la chaîne des Balkans. Conseil pour l'argent : toutes les guesthouses et logements acceptent les euros. La monnaie locale en Albanie est le LEK. Au Monténégro, c'est l'EURO. Les frais de banque suite au retrait d'argent dans un distributeur en Albanie est assez élevé : 8 euros pour un retrait de 600-700 LEK (200 euros) ! Donc il vaut mieux retirer de l'argent liquide (euros) en France. Ah oui, nous avions réservé tous les logements avant de partir. Mais le paiement se fait toujours en espèces. Prévoir environ 400-500 euros pour 9 jours de trek.

Puis transfert le même jour vers Shköder, 2 heures environ de bus. Coût 10 euros par personne. Billet acheté directement dans le bus. Nuit à Shköder dans une guesthouse très propre, Open Doors B&B. Petit balcon donnant sur la ville.

Shköder est une ville que j'ai appréciée, notamment sa rue piétonne bordée de nombreux restaurants et illuminée la nuit. Il est très agréable de s'y promener et d'y manger. La nourriture n'est pas chère. 2 belles salades + 2 bières : 14 euros :-) . Le prix des fruits également est très abordable : 3 euros le kilo de cerises contre 9-10 euros en France. Les religions dans ces pays cohabitent très bien. Catholiques, musulmans. De notre balcon, mon amie a entendu pour la première fois "l'appel à la prière" lancé depuis une des mosquées de la ville.

Jour 2 : trajet en bus jusqu'à Theth, environ 1100 m de dénivelé, point de départ de notre randonnée du lendemain.

Durée : 2h40 avec une pause au milieu, prix abordable en bus, par contre les taxis font le trajet également mais c'est très cher.

Dodo dans les hauteurs de Theth, dans une guesthouse récente, "Mountain Vista Shkafi", avec une superbe vue.

La famille est adorable. Le mari est bricoleur et a presque tout construit de ses mains. Le bébé de la famille s'appelle "Ciel". Un prénom mignon :-), n'est-ce pas ? Tout au long du trek, j'ai trouvé les guesthouses très propres et les hôtes pensent à tout, inutile d'emmener savon et shampoing, ils sont à disposition. Déjeuner à Theth, dans un restaurant traditionnel de la route principale, on a goûté au "Tave Dheu", un plat albanais à base de boeuf, de chou (très courant) et de "cottage cheese". Délicieux mais un goût de trop peu. En dessert, délicieux gâteau au miel, moelleux à souhait. C'était un peu une exception ce dessert, on en sert très peu, de temps en temps de la pastèque. Nous avons pris un petit bus privé à 5 euros pour monter au parking de "Blue Eye" pour ensuite marcher un peu, une mise jambes de 45 minutes jusqu'à rejoindre un très beau site naturel, une sorte de lagon avec une eau bleue étonnante. Aux plus courageux de s'y baigner car l'au est très froide !

Le soir, nous avons dîné au restaurant "La Montagne Blanche", excellent ! Un délice de viandes mixtes grillées, accompagnées de pommes de terre et de poivrons grillés également. Quelques tranches de pastèque (bon je n'aime pas ça) et le fameux Raki, une eau-de-vie servie en Turquie bien sûr mais aussi dans les Balkans ! C'est la première fois que je bois une eau-de-vie "cul sec".😉

A suivre 😉

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Holigirl yesterday · Solene40

South Africa in safari mode: February/March 2026

Hi everyone,

With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo. But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip. And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.

So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays: - 3 nights in St Lucia - 1 night in Hluhluwe - 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini) - 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini) - 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti) - 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve - 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie

All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.

I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).

To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.

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Fabhyène yesterday

Draw Me Your Japan...

Hi there!

This trip to Japan, lasting 3 weeks, is starting to feel like a while ago now... 18 months (October/November 2024). I’ve wanted to share the story for a while, but I just couldn’t find the words. Too many emotions, I guess—it needed time to settle.

And then I felt like everything had already been said, everything had already been shown. Until I decided to simply base this on my travel journal, created after my return (drawings, collages, based on personal photos), and share excerpts with you in no particular order.

So this will be completely subjective, absolutely non-exhaustive, and totally personal!

Let’s start with the *shotengaï*...

Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where our hotel was for our first 5 nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived at our destination and took an exit that led us straight into a *shotengai*—one of those covered shopping streets that dot city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.

It was an aesthetic shock, a kind of third-kind encounter between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the "vintage" vibe of the arcade, the abundance of goods, the bustling crowd—a colorful mix of tourists, pilgrims (near Asakusa Temple), and locals (a very working-class area).

In the end, it set the tone for a feeling that stayed with us throughout the trip. Wherever we went, *shotengaï* were fascinating places to find small restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some were real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we took a while to find a restaurant we’d really loved ;-)

In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:

And in Kyoto, the Nishiki Market:

To be continued...

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Fabhyène yesterday

3 weeks in Laos, stress-free

This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions. I ended up using another well-known site, but I don’t like its layout as much. Now that I’ve just finished my Japan travel journal and need to prepare the one for Oman (where we went at the beginning of 2026), I thought I’d squeeze in my Laos travel journal—a destination we absolutely loved.

Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some! Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!

I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to use fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to get her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can sneak away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!

Anyway, since I like maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red). We only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband is newly retired, while I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.

In broad strokes, it was very classic:

We first settled in Luang Prabang (8 days) because we wanted and needed to. From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we all know, distances aren’t just about km! Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4000 Islands while stopping at the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites. We finished with the Bolaven Plateau.

A few practical details: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having collected our luggage in Bangkok to check it in again for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized. We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. It was quick, but we were on a small plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too many in line! At the end of our trip, we didn’t leave from Paksé but from the nearby Thai airport, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), to Bangkok and then Paris. You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train (TGV) between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the Chinese-built train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!

With that introduction out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter. To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang

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Gaura yesterday · Fabhyène

Visiting Bologna in Photos

Since I didn’t have time to write a proper travel journal, I thought I’d share a few photos of Bologna—a really lovely city I discovered in 2017 while stopping on my way to Tuscany. Around Piazza Maggiore, which was packed with a stage and chairs for a show, stands the Basilica of San Petronio, massive and Gothic in style, with an unfinished façade (a common sight in Italy).

Another building near the square:

But Bologna’s real charm lies in its porticoes, which were added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2021: 62 km of arcades running along buildings, letting you walk sheltered from the sun or rain. Back in 1288, the city required houses to include private arcades for public use. In the city center, you can stroll under 32 km of porticoes in all sorts of styles—some plain, some ornate—with a strong presence of red tones.

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Bibouns51 yesterday · Larri

Off on a winter adventure in the American West!

Day 1 – February 14

We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...

But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.

"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?

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Muriel18 yesterday · Montagnard74

Two weeks under the Puglia sun

After a pretty disastrous weather-wise trip to Gran Canaria, we're hoping this time the sun will be out in Puglia. It’s not looking great since the weather isn’t great across Europe at the start of May.

Saturday, May 16: This time we’re flying from Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight schedules, and proximity all worked for us. The airport (Ryanair) was recently redone... but it’s not very well organized—there are very few seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms are pay-to-use!!! The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari with a slight delay.

We quickly pick up our rental car, a very locally styled Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian (high)ways... and their unique driving quirks (notably, the countless road signs in towns and along roads seem to be purely decorative 😏, and Italian cars don’t have turn signals 😮... except for rental cars).

About an hour later, we arrive at our first accommodation, right in the middle of the countryside near Monopoli. The owner isn’t there, but they left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch. We check out the property:

And the next morning before breakfast, its immediate surroundings:

Sunday, May 17: After our "seaside" experience in Gran Canaria last weekend (packed with people and locals), we decide to start with the inland areas. After a hearty breakfast,

we head toward Alberobello, a super touristy village famous for its trulli—those stone houses with conical roofs. We easily find free parking on a street near the Aia Piccola district, where some trulli are still lived in year-round.

We almost immediately come across the Trullo Sovrano (the only two-story one), which you can visit (but we skip it—it’s opening time, and there’s already a line).

From there, we head down toward the Basilica of Cosma e Damiano... but we don’t go in because there’s a mass.

Now we’re on the main Piazza del Popolo, which connects the two districts of Alberobello: Rione Aia Piccola and Rione Monti, the more touristy one.

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Muriel18 yesterday

Gran Canaria... a trip that wasn't exactly thrilling

Okay, it wasn’t a total disaster either. Actually, I hesitated before starting this travel journal: is it even worth writing about a holiday that won’t leave an unforgettable memory? In the end, I went for it (there aren’t many recent travel journals about this destination). So, read on... or don’t .

Every time we’ve been to the Canary Islands, it’s been by default (basically: where can we go in winter or early spring when we only have a week—so not too far, not too much jet lag, but with decent weather?).

This time, we had two weeks, but the winter plan kept changing: first Thailand (dropped for personal reasons), then Martinique (dropped because of work leave dates that weren’t up to me), and finally, the Canary Islands.

We’ve already been to Tenerife (which we really liked) and Lanzarote (which we liked a little less). This year, two options: Gran Canaria or one of the smaller islands west of Tenerife (La Palma, or even La Gomera or El Hierro). We chose Gran Canaria... not sure it was the right call! Whose fault is it? Storm Thérèse’s! Yes, Storm Thérèse followed us on arrival, and its effects lasted quite a while. We had to adapt, cancel visits, change activities...

But even without Thérèse...

Saturday 21/03 Departure from Orly at 6:10 AM with Transavia. The plane took off on time and landed a little early, tossed around by strong winds before touching down. It had just rained, but it was (almost) no longer raining.

We quickly picked up our luggage and then the car at the Cicar counter. We got a Seat Arona instead of the Corsa we’d booked. Well, while the driving position didn’t feel great at first (I got used to it), the engine’s smoothness and power were much appreciated on the island’s winding and sometimes steep roads.

It was only 10 AM, and we couldn’t theoretically check into our accommodation until 3 PM (the owner promised to message me if it was ready earlier). So, we headed to the (big) *Jardín Botánico Viera y Clavijo*, where we planned to spend a few hours. We found a huge parking lot... empty. The passenger in the car in front of us (yes, we weren’t the only ones at the closed gate—there was a car in front and one behind) went to ask for info: it was closed due to the storm 😕. So, we calmly headed toward Puerto de las Nieves, on the northwest coast of the island.

The plan: go to a restaurant, visit the village, and do some shopping while waiting for early afternoon. As soon as we got out of the car, it started raining... we took shelter under the awning of a shop, waiting for it to pass. But the rain turned into a downpour, and within minutes, awning or not, Gore-Tex or not, we were soaked!

Since we were already wet, we might as well go to the restaurant—they weren’t far! But here’s the thing: contrary to what Google Maps said, they all opened at 1 PM, not noon! Back to the car, wading through 5 cm of water because all the village streets were flooded . The rain let up, we did some shopping, went to eat, and I got a message from the owner saying the accommodation was ready 🙂.

So, off we went to La Suerte, a few kilometers north of Agaete. The downside of the place, especially with luggage, is that you have to climb several flights of stairs via an outdoor staircase (after parking more or less far away on a steep street) to get there 😛). Of course, on the way from the car to the apartment, it started pouring again—the bags got soaked! Enough rain for today! We settled in quietly, and by late afternoon, we could (finally!) go admire the view from the terrace.

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Attila yesterday · AlineP

Storm in the Canary Islands

15 days across Gran Canaria, El Hierro, and a dash of Tenerife under the storm Thérèse!

The planned itinerary will be slightly disrupted...

(The version without discussions is here)

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Jcpo yesterday · AlineP

Une semaine à Lanzarote fin Septembre

Carnet voyage Lanzarote

Organisation du voyage Nous partons à 2 ma compagne et moi fin septembre pour un séjour d’une semaine aux Canaries sur l’ile de Lanzarote, nous avons choisi plutôt cette ile qui n’est pas la plus fréquentée pour son coté volcanique et ses nombreuses balades variées. J’ai réservé via le site internet Expédia l’hébergement à l’hôtel, la location de la voiture et les billets d’avion Ryanair au départ de Marseille, c’est la seule solution pour avoir un vol direct Pour faciliter les déplacements pendant le séjour j’ai choisi parmi le grand choix proposé sur le site un hôtel situé au milieu de l’ile, il s’agit d’un hôtel de la chaine Barcelo et plus particulièrement à Teguise Beach l’établissement : « Barceló Teguise Beach Adults Only » qui s’avérera être un très bon choix. Séjour

Dimanche 21 Septembre- Lundi 22 Départ Il est14h15, nous sommes à la gare TGV d'Avignon, Danielle est venue nous chercher plus tôt étant donné la météo. Orages et déluge jusqu'a la gare TGV. Le TGV était à l'heure, juste 30minutes pour arriver à Marseille saint Charles. L'accès à la navette vers l’aéroport est rapide et pratique juste derrière la gare. Le car part pour l'aéroport sous l'orage et un déluge, les routes sont inondées et les voitures ne peuvent pas passer à certains endroits. On à le temps d'étre bien trempé pour rejoindre le terminal. 2 h d'attente avant le vol. Finalement l'avion décolle à minuit et peu de temps avant l'arrivée le pilote nous annonce que l'aéroport d'arrivée est fermé et que nous sommes déroutés à Tenerife et que la compagnie nous réacheminera à destination dès que possible. Il faudra attendre 2H et Ryanair nous a gracieusement offert un bon d'achat de 4€. Nous réembarquons vers 5H15 et décollage à 6H. Environ 45mn pour rejoindre Lanzarote. Une fois les valises récupérées on s'occupe de la location de voiture. Le guichet dans le terminal est fermé et il est indiqué de se rendre au parking P4, on a un peu de mal à le trouver. Je crains un peu la réponse du loueur car la voiture devait être retirée 7H plus tôt, mais ça ne pose pas de probléme. Une dame à coté de nous est furieuse car elle est dans la même situation et on lui a annulé sa location. Anne-Marie fait la traductrice pour elle au niveau de l'agence, mais rien n'y fait. On récupère une Toyota Aigo neuve et on se dirige ensuite vers l'hôtel. Une fois les formalités remplies on traverse le jardin en longeant la vaste piscine pour rejoindre la chambre. Une jolie chambre au 1er étage équipée d'un bain à remous avec vue sur mer. Il est tôt , nous allons ensuite prendre le petit déjeuner, un buffet généreusement garni et diversifié ou l'on peut trouver tout ce que l'on souhaite. Ensuite nous prenons la voiture pour rejoindre le site Cueva de los Verdes mais il y a beaucoup de monde et d'attente. Nous y reviendrons un autre jour. Nous allons ensuite au Mirador Del Rio. Ce mirador rocheux à une extrémité de l'ile avec des a pics vertigineux qui tombent dans l'océan d'une hauteur de 500m, la vue est grandiose et impressionnante. Un bar panoramique permet de se rafraîchir en profitant du décor. Retour à l'hôtel ensuite pour une petite balade dans le quartier et profiter de la belle piscine à la température d'eau agréable. Moment détente, transat, piscine. Le soir buffet trés varié au restaurant. Ensuite coché tôt pour récupérer de la nuit précédente sans sommeil.

Mardi 23 Après une bonne nuit réparatrice, buffet petit déjeuner très varié et copieux, l’installation en terrasse est bien agréable. Ensuite nous prenons la direction d’une route intérieure qui nous mène au parc national des volcans de Timanfaya. La route près du parc longe des vignobles ou les pieds sont entourés de murets en pierre de lave qui les protègent des vents dominants. Un premier arrêt au centre de visites ou l’activité volcanique de l’ile est très documentée. Ensuite arrêt à une aire ou il est possible de faire une petite balade à dos de chameau, 2 sièges de part et d’autre de sa bosse sont installés. Cette petite balade offre une belle vue sur ce décors volcanique en prenant de la hauteur. Prix correct de 11€ par place pour 20minutes de promenade. Nous rejoignons ensuite l’entrée du parc en passant par la voie qui mène au parking d’où partent les bus seul habilités à emprunter le parcours sinueux à l’intérieur du parc. Beaucoup de monde et environ 45 minutes et plusieurs arrêts avant d’atteindre le parking. Ensuite nous prenons le car et le parcours offre de très jolies vues sur cette zone volcanique et ses nombreux cratères. Le parcours est très intéressant avec plusieurs arrêts du car pour prendre des photos. Sur la zone du parking un guide nous montre la chaleur des pierres sous le sol qui permet d’enflammer de la végétation sèche, de méme l’eau versée dans les trous creusés dans le sol provoque immédiatement un geyser et des jets de vapeur. Le bâtiment à coté du parking offre un espace restauration ou la viande est cuite par la chaleur d’un puit creusé dans la roche volcanique. En repartant nous allons jusqu'à la commune de Playa Blanca, une commune du bord de mer qui offre une petite plage de sable.

Ensuite retour à l’hôtel en fin d’après-midi et repas du soir.

Mercredi 24 Lever assez tôt et petit déjeuner matinal, peu de monde à cette heure, nous avons réservé il y a 2 jours la visite à 10H de Los Verdes, des tunnels de lave créés par l’éruption et les coulées de lave jusqu'à la cote des fleuves de lave du volcan La Corona. Au contact de l’air la lave s’est solidifiée en surface et a continué à s’écouler en dessous, les tunnels de lave vont jusqu’au volcan à 8 kilomètres, mais on ne parcourt qu’un kilomètre. L’intérieur de ce tunnel est impressionnant avec des passages étroits et des salles plus vastes. On remarque les traces laissées par l’écoulement de la lave liquide des couleurs variées et des formes tourmentées. A l’extrémité du parcours une vaste salle a été aménagée en salle de concert à l’acoustique parfaite. Ensuite nous allons sur le site de Jameo Del Agua. C’est la continuité du tunnel de lave aménagé par Manrique. Des espaces bar, restaurant joliment aménagés et un lac souterrain ou l’on peut voir de petits crabes blancs aveugles, une espèce protégée dans cette eau très pure. En allant plus haut un bel espace avec un joli bassin au centre qui peut faire office de piscine et des cheminements autour très joliment aménagés d’un blanc pur qui contraste avec le bleu de l’eau de ce bassin. En poursuivant on accède à un vaste espace dans le tunnel de lave aménagé en grande salle de spectacle avec aussi une acoustique parfaite. Des escaliers permettent de découvrir ce bel espace d’en haut. Une trouée dans ce décor de lave avec l’océan à l’horizon. Nous repartons vers le village de Yé, ici nous sommes au pied du volcan La Corona. A 160m de l’église un chemin qui traverse les parcelles de vignes s’élève ensuite vers le haut du cratère du volcan que l’on atteint en 30 minutes environ. Il s’agit du plus haut volcan de l’ile. Arrivé au bord du cratère on constate la grande profondeur de celui-ci et la pente très raide de l’intérieur du cratère qui forme une grande ouverture circulaire. L’endroit est grandiose et impressionnant. Retour à la voiture et à l’hôtel par une route qui s’élève rapidement et offre une très belle vue sur le nord de l’ile.

Jeudi 25 Après le petit-déj toujours agréable et varié nous partons en direction du centre de l’ile au parc des volcan set nous nous arrêtons à un parking en bord de route d’où part un chemin en direction du volcan Montana Cuervo. Il s’agit d’un cratère ouvert sur le côté. Lors d’une éruption une explosion s’est produite, ouvrant une brèche dans le cratère.

Des énormes blocs de roche ont été projetés à plusieurs dizaines de mètres. Le chemin passe par la brèche et descend dans le cratère et permet de faire le tour de celui-ci. C’est impressionnant et l’on se sent vraiment petit et fragile dans cet univers. Les parois du cratère de différentes couleurs mettent en valeur les blocs de roche. Ce cratère est entouré d’une mer de lave avec une roche aux formes acérées et coupantes. On peut faire le tour extérieur du cratère mais ça n’a pas un grand intérêt. Nous rejoignons ensuite la côte ouest en s’arrêtant à un endroit où se trouve un petit lac vert à côté d’une belle plage de sable noir. Ensuite un arrêt à Salinas de Janubio, un joli point de vue sur les marais salants avec différentes couleurs d’eau. Une petite boutique offre divers produits sur place. Ensuite nous prenons la direction de la célèbre plage de Papagayo. La route s’arrête et on arrive à une guérite qui réclame 3€ pour continuer. A partir d’ici le terrain est privé et il faut payer pour emprunter une longue piste caillouteuse en terre de 3 Kilomètres. Pas mal de voitures y circulent soulevant des nuages de poussière. La voiture est repeinte couleur poussière. On arrive à un vaste espace de stationnement, plusieurs chemins mènent à des petites plages différentes. Nous allons à Papagayo, une petite plage de sable blond entourée de roches rouge. La plage est en pente douce et descend lentement dans l’eau. La température de l’eau est bonne et le cadre sympathique et paisible. Nous restons un moment avant de repartir en direction de l’hôtel.

Vendredi 26 Nous commençons par la visite de la fondation César Manrique à Tahiche. C’ était à l’origine une de ses demeures. La construction est moderne sur plusieurs niveaux et intégrée à la coulée de lave autour en utilisant les trouées pour constituer des espaces de vie. De larges baies vitrées donnent des pièces lumineuses et ouvertes sur le décor. L’endroit est agréable avec les jardins extérieurs fleuris. L’endroit mérite une visite. Ensuite nous prenons la route jusqu'à Las Grietas, un chemin conduit à une faille dans la roche volcanique qui forme un défilé étroit ou seule une personne peut passer à la fois. Ce défilé n’est pas très long et la progression est lente à cause des interminables selfies réalisés ici. Ensuite nous nous arrêtons à la Casa Del Camposino, une ferme rénovée qui accueille plusieurs boutiques d’artisans. Nous y goutons un vin local conseillé par une charmante dame et lui achetons sur ses conseils 2 bouteilles de vin rouge de Lanzarote. Direction maintenant la plage de Tamara, une belle et large plage au pied de hautes falaises. Ici il y a toujours de belles vagues et c’est la plage des surfeurs. Sur la route u retour vers l’hôtel nous nous arrêtons au jardin de cactus, c’est la derniére création de César Manrique créé avec un grand sens de l’esthétique autour d’un ancien moulin à vent il présente 4500 variétés de cactus aux formes diverses dans un très bel espace. Retour en fin d’après-midi à l’hôtel et soirée.

Samedi 27 Le matin après le petit déjeuner toujours copieux nous prenons la direction du nord de l’ile vers Haria. Nous découvrons par hasard une autre maison de César Manrique ou il a longtemps vécu. Cette maison est plus classique que la précédente, mais toujours de vastes pièces et une installation moderne très agréable. Au fond du jardin son vaste atelier, lieu où il réalisait ses œuvres. Ensuite nous allons au marché artisanal, on était venu pour ça initialement. Divers stands proposant des articles locaux, beaucoup de monde à ce marché. Pas de place aux terrasses des cafés pour s’installer. Ensuite nous retournons à la plage de Famara pour un long moment, toujours de belles vagues pour le plaisir des surfeurs. La température de l’eau est agréable et nous en profitons. Retour à l’hôtel mais avant arrêt à une station pour refaire le plein de la voiture qui à été très économique, d’autant plus que l’essence est beaucoup moins chère qu’en France 1,16€ le litre de sp95. Lavage de la voiture aussi qui était très poussiéreuse après la longue piste en terre pour accéder à la plage de Papagayo. A l’hôtel cocktail du dernier soir avant le repas.

Dimanche 28 Matinée à l’hôtel au bord de la piscine avant de libérer la chambre à 12H. Nous allons pour le déjeuner à un restaurant « Dona Lola » proche de l’hôtel avec une terrasse offrant la vue la cote. Nous prenons un carpaccio de thon qui est très bon. Direction l’aéroport ensuite situé à 15 minutes de route. Nous restituons la voiture et rejoignons l’aéroport. Une longue queue pour enregistrer les bagages. Le vol retour est à l’heure. Navette bus jusqu'à la gare Saint Charles. Ensuite nous rejoignons la location pour la nuit. Le boulevard descend, c’est plus facile avec les valises. La location est située entre le vieux port et la gare. Une fois sur place nous récupérons les clés et dernier effort il faut monter les bagages au 3éme étage. Le studio est sympathique, propre avec un équipement simple qui suffit pour une nuit.

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Calisson94 2 days ago

Back to Swedish Lapland: Trek on the Kungsleden and Crossing Sarek

After summer 2022 left me with a sense of unfinished business, here I am back in Swedish Lapland in summer 2024, ready to attempt the Sarek crossing again—and this time, trek part of the Kungsleden too.

After much hesitation, my companion Jean Marie and I decided to start with the Kungsleden, which, from what we’ve read, is stunning but very crowded (and it really is!!), and finish with the wilder option: SAREK! This park is called Europe’s last wild space—I think it’s incredibly inspiring!! The downside of this choice is that since there’s no way to resupply in Sarek and the Kungsleden isn’t really set up for long treks, we’ll have to carry a lot of food for the first part with Sarek in mind. Oh well, we’re motivated!

Our plan is to start in Abisko (classic), head to Vakkotavare (also classic, but with some variations to avoid the official route and the crowds), then continue the Kungsleden from Saltoluokta. Before Aktse, we’ll set off on an east-to-west crossing of Sarek (weather-dependent, since aside from the Skarja hut in the center of the park, there’s no shelter if conditions turn bad). At least we’ll be on the right side of the park to climb Skierfe and enjoy the jaw-dropping view of Rappaladen if we have to abandon the Sarek crossing.

That adds up to 17 days of trekking, including 1 rest day + 1 buffer day for weather delays.

So if you’re interested, I invite you to follow our overstuffed backpacks!

03/08 - Abisko – 5km before Abiskojaure Some info (guides we used for prep, SFT map, sending food to Saltoluokta) 04/08 – 5km before Abiskojaure - on the east shore of Lake Alisjavri 05/08 – East shore of Lake Alisjavri – just before Tjaktja 06/08 – Just before Tjaktja – above the Salka hut via Nallo

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Jojoone1 2 days ago · Songsam

All Over Thailand

You can post your personal photos in the following thread: https://voyageforum.com/forum/quelque-part-en-thailande-d10655574/

This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style. All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.

All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert. However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.

I guess I wanted to deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about it. I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.

There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.

I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guardians for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.

Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course. Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious. Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs. It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons. That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though? Much rarer—they’re too big.

It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been full of holes for years.

You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.

Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field. A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.

Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and enormous beast with its own garden. Yet it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.

You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water there for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.

If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not just for fun—these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.

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Puma2A 5 days ago

In MIKUMI and SELOUS, Southern Tanzania (June 2024)

Hi everyone,

I’m a newbie to this forum, passionate about wildlife, the landscapes of East Africa, and Tanzania in particular. This June 2024 trip/safari is our 7th visit to Tanzania and our 5th in the south, which has drawn us more than the north ever since we discovered it in 2015.

In 2024, the entrance fees for the reserves and services have gone up again since our last visit. I chose to return first to Mikumi Reserve, which was the very first one we visited in the south. Then, we’ll head to Selous (J. Nyerere N. P.) as usual. Initially, we wanted to spend 2/3 days on Mafia Island at the end of the trip, but it made the total cost too high, so we gave up... We usually go to Ruaha and Selous, but I wanted to mix it up a bit—also to save some money...

As for the timing, June is a new experience for us. I thought it might be interesting to come just after the lodges reopen... hoping for some great wildlife encounters??

The trip starts in Marseille with our first flight on Ethiopian Airlines to Addis Ababa, then continues to Dar es Salaam, where we’ll finally set foot on Tanzanian soil again.

In Addis... "our" A-350.

.....

After arriving in Dar, we spent one night at a hotel near the airport. The next morning, we headed to the domestic flights terminal, which hasn’t changed in years.

By mid-morning, we boarded a Cessna 208B Caravan with Safari Air Link, heading to the Kikoboga bush airstrip in Mikumi, which we reached 45 minutes later. Fun fact: the pilot was the same one as on our return flight two years ago.

Welcome on board:

Of course, a driver/guide team from our chosen lodge was waiting for us upon arrival:

I was surprised to see so many aircraft parked there... even twin-engine Embraer Brasilias?? As a fan of vintage planes, I loved it...

On the other hand, the light was incredibly harsh.....!! Our guides only speak English. We knew that in advance. In the south, it’s very rare to find someone who speaks French. This’ll force us to dig into our high school English memories... from 60 years ago... at least.

It’s noon, and we head toward the lodge. Near the airstrip, next to the Mikumi rangers’ base, there are quite a few herbivores. They find a bit more peace here—the big cats don’t venture this way...

Our first encounter was a group of Masai giraffes.

Rarer (for us), a savanna monitor lizard basking in the sun right in the middle of the track...??

A large gathering of impalas (mostly males) along with a few blue wildebeest:

Also unusual: a African crowned hornbill taking a dust bath in the middle of the track...!!

When it comes to identifying mammals or birds, I don’t know everything... so I might make mistakes. Please forgive me. I’m counting on my friend Blesl’s active participation... 😉

...

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Olive842 last week

From Avignon to Casamance Without Flying

Hi there,

Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.

It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected. Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel. I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability. So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.

I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:

Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras

Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya

Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat

Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott

Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou

To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog: From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations

Happy reading, and safe travels!

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6cha38 last week · Xialin

Retour sur notre voyage en famille de Denver à Yellowstone

Bonjour,

Je me lance dans un CR de notre boucle, somme toute assez classique, Denver-Yellowstone-Denver cet été du 24 juillet au 17 août. Vu la multitude de CR déjà existant ou en cours d’écriture, et n’ayant ni la qualité d'écriture ni celle des photos de beaucoup d’entre vous, je me contenterai, enfin surtout j'essaierai, d'être pragmatique pour vous faire partager notre ressenti notamment sur certains parcs ou lieu un peu moins visités.

Je tiens tout d'abord à remercier tous ceux qui, par leurs CR, blogs, sites, commentaires ou autres, nous ont permis de bâtir au mieux ce programme, qui, avec le recul, aurait encore pu être optimisé : une déception pour plusieurs belles découvertes, mais parfois survolées faute de temps. De quoi revenir dans le secteur !

Nous voyageons avec nos 4 ados (ou presque) de 18, 16, 14 et quasiment 12 ans. Ce qui nécessite, afin que le voyage soit agréable pour tous, non seulement certains compromis de part et d’autre (raccourcir une visite pour profiter plus longuement d’une baignade, se lever aux aurores...) mais aussi de bien prendre en compte certains aspects logistiques qui pourraient vite devenir chronophages sans un minimum d’organisation (lessives, courses, rangement des bagages…). Parce que mine de rien, je crois qu’on a du « visiter » tous les Walmart implantés sur notre parcours !!! La faute à une absence de frigo dans certains logements et surtout à une place très très limitée dans la voiture ne permettant pas d’avoir une glacière digne de ce nom. Je reviendrai par ailleurs sur l’épisode voiture.

Pour les logements, nous avons cette année alterné cabines basiques dans des KOA et Yellowstone (quand plus d’1 nuit au même endroit) et hôtels. Toujours avec piscine (sauf Yellowstone bien sûr), ce qui permet aux enfants de se défouler (parce qu’ils ont toujours de la réserve même après des journées bien chargées!) et nous, il faut bien l’avouer, de nous détendre. Pas de souci de Wifi, nous avons tous un forfait avec 25 GO d'internet (un grand merci à Gilles pour le super plan à 0,99 €). Cela a très bien fonctionné, même les SMS et appels de portable à portable (aucun coût supplémentaire).

J’en viens à notre circuit : comme je le disais, boucle classique Denver-Yellowstone-Denver. Pour ne pas trop survoler les parcs et ne pas passer notre temps à courir, nous avons privilégié de loger au plus près de ceux-ci en restant au moins 2 nuits au même endroit. Et je dois dire que c’est très appréciable de se poser, même si ce n’est que pour 2 nuits. Cela permet aussi de composer avec la météo, pas toujours au top lors de ce voyage. La contre-partie, la durée des vacances n’étant malheureusement pas extensible, est que certaines étapes ont parfois été longues : on le savait, mais le fait d’être dans un rythme cool, sans contrainte horaire (ne pas me demander de timing, je ne me soucie pas de l’heure en vacances sauf le matin pour lever toute la troupe si je ne veux pas que le départ soit à midi…), nous a parfois fait faire des journées à rallonge.

Ceci étant posé, j’attaque le voyage en lui-même dans le prochain post.

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Sinforosa 2 weeks ago

Back in Tunisia (live account)

Hi there,

On this forum, I shared my first trip to Tunisia from mid-February to early March (https://voyageforum.com/forum/impressions-tunisiennes-en-direct-d11460662/), a stay I enjoyed so much that six weeks later, I’m back in Tunisia for a full 15 days (I return on April 27).

This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.

In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.

Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while. When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).

The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing. The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.

I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.

Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.

The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).

At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.

TO BE CONTINUED....

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Amnesix77 2 weeks ago · Sandrita24

Andalousie en famille et à 2 familles avec voiture, fin avril 2019

Bonjour à tous,

De retour d'une quinzaine de jours en Andalousie j'ai envie de partager cette expérience avec vous, peut être que ca pourra être utile dans la préparation d'un voyage. Je commence par un petit récap sur ce post et j'essaierai de continuer ensuite avec des photos et des détails sur les journées (j'ai encore du travail de tri pour les photos) ; j'espère que je ne serai pas trop ennuyeux 😎

Les conditions du voyage :

du 20 avril au 4 mai 2019 :

7 jours sur la côte de la Luz (el puerto de santa maria) en air bnb,

4 jours à la jonction entre la costa del sol et la costa tropical (Salobrena) en air bnb

3 jours au cabo de gata pour le repos en camping à Los Escullos

Deux familles de 4, chacune avec sa voiture perso : 3 garçons de 9 ans et une fille de 6 ans. Une famille plutôt ville et découverte (c'est pas nous mais on se soigne) et une famille plutôt farniente / nature (ca c'est nous). On parle un peu espagnol.

Plus de 5 000 km, dont 2 500 pour le trajet aller retour depuis Carcassonne.

Le temps : variable mais on s'attendait à mieux dans cette région toute fin avril : on a eu un parfois froid la première semaine sur la côte de la Luz (< 20 °C) et ensuite il a fait plus chaud sans excès la deuxième semaine (<25°C). Au moins on n'a pas eu trop de pluie

Notre budget : environ 2600 € par famille :

700 € pour les nuitées, soit 50 € par nuit,

1000 € pour les repas / restau. Au restau on s'en sortait généralement pour 50 € / famille, on mangeait au resto le midi (sauf 2/3 pique nique) et à la maison le soir en essayant d'être de retour pour 18H00)

600 € pour les sorties : rio tinto, un spectacle de flamenco, les visites de l'alhambra, giralda et alcazar, les parc oasis avec repas, la sortie kayak

300 € pour l'essence et péage

préparation : quelques mois à l'avance avec les résa des nuitées et de l'alhmabra / giralda / Alcazar. Quelques guides de voyage (j'aime bien le guide « évasion » pour initier la prépa. Géoguide est bien sans plus mais c'est le routard de nos amis qui a le plus servi. Egalement 3 mois de préparation / révision à l'espagnol avec Mosalingua (méthode de répétition très bien faite, 10 minutes / jours max). Téléchargement de Maps me et de la carte d'Andalousie à l'avance, indispensable. Et enfin tricount pour faire le décompte des dépenses avec les amis, c'est très pratique.

Qu'avons nous fait / vu:

3 visites de villes (Séville, Grenade et Cadix) + Malaga pour les amis, (on, a mis le véto sur Cordoue, ca aurait fait trop de ville pour nous)

4 villages blancs (Vejer de la frontera, Arcos de la frontera, Grazamela, Ronda) + Tarifa pour les amis,

des plages (Tarifa et Bolonia, matalascanas, Nerja, el Cabo de gata)

des petits moments nature et divertissement : le parc de la donana, une sortie kayak le long de la côte rocheuse près de Nerja et le parc Far west / animalier dans le désert de Tabernas.

un peu de culture : les mines de rio tintos, le site archéologique d'Italica, les caravelles de Christophe Colomb, la grotte de Nerja pour nous et le musée Picasso à Malaga pour les amis, le séchage du jambon dans les Alpujarras pour les amis.

Nos coups de cœur

Nerja et les quelques villages autour : la côte rocheuse est vraiment sympa on a adoré la sortie en Kayak même si pour le snorkeling l'eau était bien froide. Les plages sont abritées du vent, le village est agréable et bien sûr la grotte est exceptionnelle.

El Rocio et le parc de la Donana. Ambiance hors du temps un peu western à El Rocio, on y serait bien resté un jour ou deux ; le calme et les odeurs de pin nous ramènent dans les landes

Ce qui nous a moyennement plu :

les mines de rio tinto : pas passionnant ni extraordinaire d'autant que le flots de paroles ininterrompus des guides espagnols gachent un peu ce moment de « nature ».

Nos petits regrets (qu'on note pour une prochaine fois) :

avoir oublié nos passeports et n'avoir pas pu aller passer une journée à Tanger depuis Tarifa,

avoir manqué d'une journée autour de Nerja pour aller passer une journée de Snowboard dans la sierra Nevada à à peine 1H30 de route (que nous a proposé l'excursionniste de kayak)

ne pas avoir passé au moins une nuit à El rocio pour aller explorer le parc de la Donana au petit matin

Antequerra avec l'embalse du guadalhorce et le caminito del rey (mais il fallait refaire 2h00 de route et on n'avait pas le courage)

Mes impressions générales et personnelles à chaud sur l'Andalousie et l'Espagne

sur les paysages : un sentiment de concentration un peu extrême parfois d'une mono activité sur un territoire : champs d'olivier à perte de vue sur le trajet, les fermes éoliennes de la côte de la Luz (que j'ai trouvé bien intégrées), les lignes d'immeubles le long de la costa del sol (burk, heureusement qu'on ne s'y est pas arrêté), les champs de serres autour d'Alméria (dommage d'avoir gelé la côte sur autant de km), le port industriel de Huelvas tellement étendu, ...

D'ailleurs en traversant le pays ce qui nous a étonné par rapport à la France c'est la relative absence de hameaux, les villages sont bien délimités et la population s'y concentre laissant de vastes paysages sans présence humaine, alors qu'en France on trouve des habitations un peu partout.

Enfin sur les routes : relativement peu de péages, alors certes les aires de repos sont moins bien aménagées que chez nous mais les routes sont en bon état et notre porte feuille était plutôt content. D'ailleurs les routes sont plutôt rectilignes avec un nombre incalculable de ponts et tunnels : l'avantage (outre le fait qu'on se déplace rapidement) c'est qu'il y a relativement peu de routes secondaires qui viennent impacter le paysage.

pour le tourisme et les activités : une très grande variété et richesse. Le sentiment que chacun trouvera des choses à faire selon ses goûts et qu'en 15 jours on est loin d'avoir épuisé nos envies. Et c'est incroyable comment dans une région on passe vite de la côte aux sommets enneigés (la sierra Nevada), des cultures au désert (le Tabernas). Et bien sûr le mélange des cultures européennes et arabe dans l'architecture dans une même ville est très agréable.

Petit regret c'est d'avoir relativement peu échangé avec les locaux, on est mal tombé pour ca sur nos air bnb dommage. On était bien reçu par les différents commerçants par contre, très compréhensifs sur mon espagnol approximatif:-) .

Au final je pense que notre choix de nous poser sur la côte de luz et ensuite près de Nerja étaient bons : on a pu rayonner pas trop mal (même si on a fait de km bien sûr) et on était dans des environnement vraiment sympa. Et les 3 jours de repos total ensuite au cabo de gata ont été les bienvenus.

Si vous préférez ou pouvez faire des pauses moins longues vous pouvez essayez de dormir sur El Roccio (facile pour aller à Séville et permet la visite matinale du parc de la donana) et pourquoi pas aussi à Grazamela pour faire une rando dans la sierra (mais à improviser car dépend de la météo)... Et bien sûr Tarifa pour un aller retour Tanger et journée à Gibraltar.

a bientôt pour des détails sur les différentes journées et quelques photos

Laurent

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Fabhyène 3 weeks ago · Sinforosa

Elle voit des géants partout! (Ducasse d’Ath, Belgique, août 2018)

La fantaisie et le dépaysement sont quelquefois tout près de chez vous ! J’aime aller aux quatre coins de la planète, mais il peut y avoir aussi tout un monde à peine plus loin que le coin de votre rue… et même le bout de votre nez ! Je vais donc vous raconter en image la belle kermesse d’Ath, que nous avons découverte seulement en août dernier, alors que nous sommes voisins (nous habitons Lille)

J'aurais pu sous-titrer ce carnet: "Ferme eut’bouc tin nez va quer eud’dans"; c'est une expression en langue picarde, littéralement « Ferme ta bouche ton nez va tomber dedans », qui se dit à une personne ébahie, et ébahie je l'ai été!!!

Ooooooooh, des géants ! Ah comme je les aime ! Dans le Nord nous avons beaucoup de ces géants, comme Reuze Papa et Reuze Maman à Cassel, ou encore Gayant, Marie et leurs enfants Binbin, Jacquot et Fillon à Douai, et bien d’autres encore.

Hein ? Quoi ? Chavez po quo qu’ch’est qu’in Géant deuch’Nord?

Et bien c’est un héros bienveillant, une figure légendaire, un protecteur, un symbole, qui est lié à une ville et qui la parcourt en marchant et en dansant au moment du carnaval ou de la fête locale… La tradition serait née au Portugal au 13ème siècle (en tout cas c’est là qu’on en a les premiers témoignages), puis on les rencontre dans les Pays bas à partir du 15ème siècle. Dans le Nord, les plus anciens sont Gayant et Marie de Douai (16ème siècle) mais on en a vu beaucoup de nouveaux apparaître depuis les années 80, avec le revival des carnavals… Bon en pratique c’est un grand personnage (ou figure animale) qui mesure plusieurs mètres; la structure est en osier, le corps est souvent en papier mâché mais la tête peut être en bois comme à Ath (bois de tilleul), et les vêtements et les accessoires sont de tissu, cuir et bois. La robe évasée (pour les géants mâles comme femelles) permet à un ou des porteurs de se glisser sous le géant pour le déplacer à la seule force des bras, épaules et jambes, et même lui faire faire des pas de danse ! Il y a plus de 1500 géants en Belgique et 450 dans les Hauts de France, très majoritairement dans les départements du Nord et du Pas de Calais.

A Ath des géants il y en a … PLEIN ! Je n’en ai jamais vu autant en même temps. Et chacun d'entre eux n'est porté que par un seul homme à la fois (à l’exception de Bayard, vous verrez plus loin pourquoi), alors que la structure pèse plus de 100 kilos… les porteurs se succèdent donc rapidement ! La Ducasse d’Ath et ses géants sont inscrits au patrimoine culturel immatériel de l’humanité depuis 2008, comme éléments des « Géants et dragons processionnels de Belgique et de France ».

La ducasse d’Ath est de surcroît remarquable par son ancienneté, et son ancrage local ; il est fait mention d’une procession dès 1399, et aujourd’hui les nombreuses compagnies musicales sont encore locales (Ath et communes avoisinantes). Le rendez-vous est extrêmement populaire : une bonne partie de la population est là, toutes générations confondues… Tous connaissent les groupes, chars et géants, et chacun a son préféré ! A l’origine, ce sont des groupes religieux qui défilaient et illustraient des épisodes de la Bible ou de la Légende dorée. Puis progressivement le défilé s’est sécularisé et n’a cessé d’évoluer en intégrant de nouveaux géants, des personnages historiques ou des allégories, en lien avec l’histoire locale (Ath, Hainaut belge, Belgique).

Enfin, les très beaux chars sont tous tirés par de magnifiques chevaux de trait, et ça c’est extraordinaire ! Le conseil communal est lui-même embarqué dans de belles calèches qui closent le défilé.

Pour finir avec cette longue introduction, sachez que la Ducasse d’Ath dure plusieurs jours mais que le point culminant en est la procession extrêmement codifiée qui a lieu le 4ème dimanche d’Août (en fait la procession passe 2 fois, une le matin et une l’après-midi).

Alors, ch’est parti !

En ce dimanche 26 août, nous voici donc à Ath en début d’après-midi pour voir la procession. Quel engouement populaire ! Chacun arbore les couleurs de la ville (violet, jaune et blanc), souvent avec un collier de tissu torsadé. Tout le monde est content, souriant, depuis le bambin hilare jusqu’à la guillerette centenaire, qui boit sa bière avec le cousin aux joues rubicondes et la jolie nièce blondinette aux brins d’juda (aux tâches de rousseur). ça s’apostrophe, ça rigole, ça chantonne, ça se congratule dans tous les coins.

Les gens commencent à se positionner aux endroits stratégiques du parcours, à savoir des endroits élargis où les géants vont s’arrêter pour exécuter une danse, sous les flonflons des fanfares qui les accompagnent. Et des fanfares, y’en a, au moins une par géant et par char !

L’attente passe vite dans cette ambiance joyeuse. A un moment, la musique se fait plus forte, et voici qu’apparaît enfin le premier géant ! Il s’agit de « l’aigle à deux têtes », sur lequel un bambin (un vrai) est assis, bien sécurisé sur sa petite chaise.

Présent dans le cortège depuis la fin du 17ème siècle, il n’avait au départ qu’une tête (normal, quoi) et accompagnait la confrérie des tailleurs. Il gagna une deuxième tête lors de la visite royale de 1854 (allez savoir pourquoi !). Il est haut de 3 mètres 30, et il pèse 115 kilos (sans l’enfant). Tous les hommes que vous voyez en blanc sont des porteurs qui se relaient. Sa danse consiste à faire tourner sur lui-même l’oiseau… on se dit que ch’tiot là haut doit avoir la tête qui tourne !

Puis, c’est la « barque des pêcheurs napolitains ». C’est un char magnifique, qui représente un navire et aux gréements duquel des jolis marins sont accrochés. Ce char apparut dans le défilé pour la première fois en 1856.

Il est suivi d’un géant humain, juché sur des échasses. C’est « Saint christophe de Flobech », qui tient un bâton fleuri et porte le Christ sur ses épaules (là ce n’est pas un vrai enfant !). Apparu au 19ème siècle, il disparut ensuite du cortège avant d’y être réintroduit en 1976.

Voici maintenant la compagnie des « Bleus », revêtus de l’uniforme français. Cette compagnie est l’héritière de l’ancienne compagnie des canonniers-arquebusiers, et elle ponctue son défilé de salves !

A suivre: le géant Samson!

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Mathews 3 weeks ago · Voyajou

A Brief A to Z of Peru

Foreword This text has been proofread many times. Sorry if some points in this A to Z have already been covered on this forum. Text and drawings by the author.

Peru is still a very vast country, with so much to see, and obviously this text can't list all the attractions of the country.

*Abiseo (River) A national park that's very hard to access and doesn’t seem open to visitors. Includes the Gran Pajaten site (see below). Personally, it really sparks my imagination (not visited personally)

*Aguas Calientes the town next to Machu Picchu, more precisely below the archaeological site. As far as I know, you can only get there by train. Reminds me of the market where stalls line both sides of the tracks near Bangkok. I love it

*Altiplano: somewhere the "heart" of the Andes. I was able to trek across it on foot, starting from Caracollo in Bolivia, and of course, it’s vast plains to explore. This is where people live in a very rural way. Andean populations are quite austere compared to those in the lowlands or on the coast. You really have to appreciate the harshness of life to live there. Life is anything but superficial. I set a compass heading and found myself walking west toward the expanse of water near a place called La Joya. For pitching the tent, the nights were still chilly

*Canyon del Colca One of the deepest canyons in the world. Personally, I hiked down and back up on foot. The toughest stretch I’ve ever covered in my life.

*Ceviche More or less the national dish. A marinade of fish, shellfish, and lime. But you can find it in some restaurants in Europe, France, and certainly in Belgium or Switzerland. In the small restaurants of Pisco, you can eat excellent ceviche

*Cerro Sechín: Mostly bas-reliefs. A site little known to travelers in the Casma province. The first vestiges of a pre-Inca civilization with iconography similar to that of Chavín (not visited personally)

*Chan Chan A large city of the Chimú civilization and relatively vast to visit. You can see adobe walls with bas-reliefs. Visit from Trujillo, take a colectivo. Plan for the whole day

*Charango: a small guitar widely used in Andean music

*Chauchilla A necropolis near Nazca where you can see mummies exposed on the ground. YouTubers can do paranormal experiments there. And for anyone wondering about the fate of the soul and body after death, here’s the answer: the body remains after death. You can imagine your own flesh and body exposed to the winds of the Pampa and before eternity... (not visited personally)

*Chavín de Huántar (Lanzón) The site’s appeal lies in its mountainous surroundings, the Lanzón stela, and the sculpted heads on the façades. What few people know is that the Chavín civilization began its expansion centuries before the Incas. Unfortunately, you can’t get too close to see the Lanzón—the day I was there, it was protected by grilles. To get there: minibus from Huaraz or trek from Olleros. Then cross a high pass (over 5,000m). If you do it solo on foot, be careful—the path isn’t obvious from Olleros

*Chullpa: funerary tower, notably at Sillustani in the Lake Titicaca region

*Chimú: pre-Inca civilization whose center was Chan Chan.

*Chola/Cholitas (Bolivia): typical clothing style of women from the Andean plateaus

*Chompa: pronounce it *Chompaaa!* A common term for a wool sweater with vicuña patterns, often knitted from alpaca wool. If you dress like this, it’s a bit kitschy around the edges

*Cuy That one isn’t a guinea pig like in Guyana but an actual guinea pig. During a trip to Peru, I was hiking near a village north of Quillabamba (the terminus of the train line that passes through Aguas Calientes), and I was invited to stay in a house. The family raised a few of these pets. Apparently, the locals eat them. Since I’m not much of a meat-eater, it doesn’t really tempt me. How about you?

*Pacific Coast or how to talk about a place you haven’t visited? Except for the coast near Pisco and San Andrés, I haven’t visited any coastal cities. But that doesn’t mean these places lack interest or poetry. For fans of clichéd images, pelicans, seabirds, and fishing boats appear by the sea.

*Gran Pajaten: also closed to the public. Features anthropomorphic bas-reliefs. (not visited personally)

*Huaca. Visit the Huaca del Sol and Huaca de la Luna, especially near Trujillo. However, you can skip them—Chan Chan is still more interesting. Don’t forget to spend time visiting Chan Chan

*Huacachina A small oasis in the desert near Ica. Yes, we’re talking about an oasis because for those who’ve never traveled to Peru, the coastal strip along the Pacific is almost entirely desert, from north to south. Peru is territorially made up of three different regions: the desert coast, the Altiplano stretching north to south with mountain ranges (the Cordilleras), and the Amazon basin to the east. (not visited personally)

*Inca Kola It’s neither Coca-Cola nor Pepsi but a unique cola with a slightly orange color. Tastes like bubble gum

*Intiwatana: a carved rock shaped like a parallelepiped. Is it a sundial?

*Ballestas Islands: a highlight in Peru, though very touristy. You can only get there by boat from the port of San Andrés, a few kilometers from Pisco. It’s a surreal place to me—actually islets with cavities where sea lions and fur seals live. Since it’s a protected area, you’re not allowed to disembark. Guano is harvested there, which can be used as fertilizer.

*Kuelap: a fortress built by the Chachapoyas people. Rarely visited by travelers. (not visited personally)

*Larco Museum: an iconic museum in Lima with a large collection of pieces from archaeological and pre-Columbian sites. From what I remember, it has many pieces from the Moche civilization. As for the Moche statuettes, the prudish might look away. Probably a veneration of the god Priapus without knowing it.

*Nazca Lines Discovered by German archaeologist Maria Reiche, they stretch for kilometers. The designs in the desert around Nazca depict animals and cabalistic signs. The question I ask myself is why the creators of these lines represented a monkey and a hummingbird—species endemic to the tropical forest, not the desert plains around Nazca.

*Machu Picchu: means "old mountain" in Quechua. There’s also Wayna Picchu. The ruins of the site emerge from a sort of small plateau above Aguas Calientes. When the mist rises above the site and the bend of the Urubamba River, it’s truly magical... Also the starting point of the Inca Trail.

*Coca tea A decoction/infusion of the coca plant, meant to ease altitude sickness or *soroche*

*Chullo A rough translation would be a Peruvian wool hat.

*Moche: a civilization established in the Moche Valley, hence the term *Mochica*. What characterizes this civilization are the distinctive clay pieces representing faces and erotic statuettes

*Papa a la Huancaína A local potato dish

*Pisac: a typical market near Cusco

*Pisco Sour: perhaps the Peruvian equivalent of the *caipirinha* you drink in Brazil.

*Puya Raimondii A Bromeliaceae that still looks like a cactus, endemic to the Altiplano

*Quechua The language spoken by the indigenous people of the high plateaus (as well as Aymara in Bolivia)

*Quipu A knotted string used for counting. Widely used by the Inca administration.

*Sacsayhuamán (Q’enqo, Inca Bath) From Cusco’s Plaza de Armas, take the streets that climb above the city. Sacsayhuamán is called a fortress and is made up of large stone blocks. You wonder how the Incas could cut such huge blocks to assemble them—just like some streets in Cusco. The Q’enqo block is enigmatic; no one really knows what it represents.

*Savia Andina An Andean folk group.

*Tambo (=> Ollantaytambo) The Inca emperor (Atahualpa, Manco Capac) had the mission of controlling a vast empire. An empire that was still very extensive. Hence the importance of these *tambos* or relay stations. Napoleon created the civil code; the Incas invented the *tambos* and *quipus*.

*Tawantinsuyu: the Inca Empire

*Tinku: a warrior dance practiced mainly in Bolivia

*Golden Tumi: a sacrificial weapon. Often featured in Peru travel guides. See illustration

*Terra X: a documentary series from the German TV channel that aired on Arte. Some episodes focused on pre-Inca and Inca Peru. I must have some old recording tapes. In memory of Gottfried Kirchner as a source of inspiration.

*Uros: I checked—it actually refers to the people who live on these floating islands. Even if it’s touristy, it’s a must-visit because it’s incredible how people can live on islets made from nothing. Take the boat from Puno

*Vicuña, llama, guanaco: camelids characteristic of the Altiplano

*Wayna Picchu The young Picchu mountain. In the first minutes of *Aguirre, the Wrath of God*, you see Klaus Kinski—well, Aguirre—making his way along the Inca Trail. Werner Herzog must have broken his back filming those sequences.

*Zampoña: pan flute

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Viovio2 3 weeks ago · Jeeaan

15-day itinerary in southern Morocco

Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads. Transport: a rented Dacia. Accommodations: small guesthouses.

Our first stop was just a few kilometers from Marrakech, at a lovely house perfect for relaxing and recharging before continuing. It’s called Bleu House, a little paradise on the outskirts of Marrakech. The welcome was very warm, with a beautiful pool and a lovely garden.

Next, we headed toward the Tichka Pass. The road has really improved in recent years—it’s much easier to drive now. No more getting stuck behind trucks, and today, the construction is practically finished.

Morocco has turned green after the recent rains. It’s a joy for the herds and shepherds.

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Olap 3 weeks ago · Ylangylang

9 days in Sardinia by bike

Leaving on Sunday, September 28, 2025, from Montpellier: I’m taking the train with my bike and panniers to Nice for the evening ferry departure to Porto Torres in Sardinia. Nice is gorgeous.

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Bibouns51 3 weeks ago · Libertad31

Off on an adventure in Sri Lanka

Day 1 – December 6

Our decision is our decision. And it’s firm and final. Next winter, our plane will spread its great wings toward the island of Ceylon! "Wait a minute... Ceylon... Ceylon... that name rings a bell, but I can’t quite place it on the globe Grandma gave me for Christmas! Ceylon... Oh right, I’ve got it: Ceylon is the name of my tea!" Exactly. But the name on your pretty tea box is also the one used until 1972 for this island nation, a speck on the Indian Ocean at the southern tip of the Indian subcontinent: Sri Lanka!

For this new adventure, I’m exceptionally leaving my Flo behind, cowardly replaced by a double dose of testosterone. To write the book of this journey with me, I’m bringing along my brother, who’s used to this kind of thing, and... a guest star: My model of resilience. My dad! All aboard! Or rather, all aboard our tuk-tuk! Yes, you read that right: A real tuk-tuk, a little colorful rolling box that putters along at two miles an hour. The idea? Well, Sri Lanka and its winding roads overlooking the vastness of lush nature are tailor-made for this kind of vehicle. And since it’s one of only two countries in the world that allow foreigners to rent and drive these mini speedsters, we’ll be crisscrossing the island in our two-square-meter rolling box. Plus, adopting this mode of transport is a surefire way to connect directly with the locals, who’ll surely be curious to see a foreigner driving their iconic vehicle. Not to mention the... let’s say... spicy anecdotes it might generate. I mean, heading into a subtropical zone with my jet-black dad and his unpredictable digestive flora while deliberately choosing the tuk-tuk as our *only* means of transport? That’s the winning combo for an unforgettable adventure! "More seriously, Dad, Sullivan, I’m already loving the idea of living this adventure together, the three of us—brothers and father..."

So, does the intro to this new adventure get your salivary glands going? Yes? Too bad. Because unfortunately, the program handed out by the lady at the entrance has been slightly... let’s say *crumpled*. Some might even say "scrunched up and nearly tossed in the trash." First, six days ago, as the countdown echoed in us like a call to adventure, Cyclone Ditwah grabbed Sri Lanka, played with it like a rag doll, and left it battered on the ground. The toll is devastating: over a thousand dead, thousands of homes wiped out by relentless rains, roads and railways swallowed by massive mudslides. A country wounded once again, after the civil war, the 2004 tsunami, and the post-Covid economic crisis.

But as if this weather disaster wasn’t enough to shake our unbreakable adventurer spirit, fate decided to mess with us further by cutting our trio down to two. The victim? My brother, violently turned away because of a simple date on his passport that didn’t match the border officials’ expectations. Return to sender!

So now it’s just the two of us allowed to board the Qatar Airways Airbus A380 for this trip. If he were here, Denis Brognart would say, "And in the end, only one remains!" Except I know you’ll be with us, following our adventures! Right?

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Lewinch 3 weeks ago

Slovenia and Northern Italy without a car

Here’s the itinerary for a ten-day trip through Slovenia and Northern Italy using local transport.

Saturday, May 2: Arrival

Arrived in Ljubljana on a Transavia flight from Paris. I’d spotted a bus connection to the city center, but it’s worth noting there’s no dedicated line—most buses stopping at the airport come from Bled. On a sunny Saturday afternoon, the bus was already packed with people who’d headed to the lake for some fresh air. I ended up taking a shared van, with drivers actively offering transfers to travelers. I paid 12 € for the ride to the train station, then walked 15 minutes to Hotel Celica. It lives up to its description as a former prison turned hotel—close to the city center, clean, with a hearty breakfast. The rooms are basic, with beds 3 meters off the ground, accessible by a wooden ladder. For dinner, I opted for an Indian restaurant.

Sunday, May 3: Urban marathon

Good news: museums are free on the first Sunday of the month. I started with the National Gallery, then took a stroll through Tivoli Park, enjoying the outdoors. I tried grilling in the park before heading to the Museum of Modern Art and the eclectic National Museum of Slovenia, which was interesting for its architecture. Next up was the castle—you can enter the grounds for free; the only reason to pay is to access the keep for the city views.

Monday, May 4: Bled

I spent the morning exploring Ljubljana’s architecture but was disappointed by the Krakovo district, which guidebooks had hyped up.

In the afternoon, I took the bus to Bled. The hostel was right at the bus station, and I soon realized I’d be the only guest—the owner was struggling to attract visitors. I walked around the lake and searched for the viewpoint access. It’s a steep climb with a staircase, but worth it.

Tuesday, May 5: Vintgar Gorge

I headed to the gorges early in the morning via a shuttle, then walked back to Bled. It was stunning—it reminded me a bit of the Samaria Gorge I’d visited last year.

The bus took me straight to Stara Fužina near Lake Bohinj, where I stayed in a homestay. I loved it, even though there wasn’t much interaction with the hosts.

The weather was overcast and misty, giving the lake a Scottish vibe.

Wednesday, May 6: Bohinj

Rainy day, so I took the bus to Ukanc at the far end of the lake and walked back.

Thursday, May 7: Mostnica Gorge and the auto-train

I set off on foot for the gorges from Stara Fužina, taking a detour up to Planina Uskovnica, a steep and rarely used trail. The views of Triglav and the traditional alpine huts were incredible.

I then took the auto-train to Most na Soči. The passenger section has compartments, and the windows can be opened. The ride through the gorges was breathtaking. I stayed at a family-run guesthouse near the Most na Soči station—authentic and cozy.

Friday, May 8: Tolmin Gorge and Nova Gorica

I took the bus to Tolmin, then walked 30 minutes to the gorges. The trail is well-maintained but short, so I extended my hike with a scenic loop through the gorges and nearby villages.

A quick train ride later, I was in Nova Gorica for the night, positioning myself to reach the Adriatic coast the next day. I explored at a fast pace—Villa Raffut on the Slovenian side, then crossed the border to visit Palazzo Attems-Petzenstein and grab an aperitivo in the main square. You could tell I was in Italy just by the vibe. The old border checkpoint is still there.

Saturday, May 9: Piran

Three trains and a bus later, I arrived. The journey was scenic, and it was worth it.

Piran is touristy but manageable. It feels like a mix of Croatia and Italy, with both influences evident. The maritime museum was fascinating, with its detailed ship models. There’s still a local feel—there was even a great blues concert by the harbor that evening.

Sunday, May 10: Piran

I walked to Izola along the coast—a beautiful route with paths, roads, and lakes. It was Sunday, and the tip of the village was lively with families picnicking. I decided to take the bus to Koper. The regional museum was quiet, but the garden was stunning.

Monday, May 11: Trieste

The bus connection from Koper was frequent and easy. Trieste is very open to the sea. I visited the castle and the massive Revoltella Museum—good timing, since it was raining. The collection spans everything from classical to contemporary art.

I missed my connection to Stresa later that day, so I had to improvise a night in a dorm near Milan’s train station.

Tuesday, May 12: Stresa

I came mainly for the Borromean Islands. First impressions weren’t great—crowded at the dock and windy. I didn’t like Isola Bella—too many people and too flashy. I much preferred Isola Madre, with its peaceful gardens where you can find solitude. On the way back, I stopped at Isola dei Pescatori after some hesitation, and it was worth it. Finally, I explored Stresa, with its colorful houses and grand palaces.

Wednesday, May 13: Heading to the Jura

I wrapped up my trip by taking the EuroCity train from Milan to Geneva via the Simplon Pass. From there, I headed to my vacation spot, taking the train from Nyon to La Cure (on the border). The rest of the journey was private.

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Pinacoladada 4 weeks ago

Second trip to Curaçao Island

Returning to Curaçao is a bit like reopening a book whose pages still smell of sun and salt.

As soon as the plane descends toward the island, the familiar colors reappear: the dazzling turquoise of the sea, the pastel facades of Willemstad, and that unique light that seems to soften everything.

For this second trip, we no longer arrive as hesitant explorers, but as confirmed lovers of this warm island.

We already know that the warm wind will welcome us as soon as we step out of the airport, that the beaches will once again offer their infinite shades of blue, and that each day will have that unhurried pace that makes you forget the rest of the world.

Yet, despite this sense of déjà vu, Curaçao always manages to surprise. A new cove to discover, a different sunset, a smile shared with a local...

The island has that rare talent for reinventing itself without ever betraying what makes it so endearing.

This second trip isn’t a repetition, then, but a reunion: a chance to rediscover Curaçao with more attentive, more connected, and perhaps even more amazed eyes.

I invite you to keep reading this travel journal and watch the videos that will help you learn a little more about the island’s different attractions.

Just click on the video image to start watching.

To go to a specific post, here are the appropriate links:

Exploring Willemstad’s colorful neighborhoods The Most Beautiful Beaches in Curaçao Hike at Boka Sint Michiel | Flamingos & panoramic views Climbing Christoffel Mountain Den Dunki & Flamingos of Jan Thiel Must-see spots in Curaçao Snorkeling at Playa Kenepa Chiki: Turquoise Water & Tropical Fish Snorkeling at Porto Mari: One of Curaçao’s Best Spots Snorkeling at Mambo Beach, the Perfect Spot Snorkeling at Daaibooi Beach, a diverse marine world

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Serow 4 weeks ago

Densha Otaku - Lesser-Known Regions

Autumn 2025 marks my 11th trip to Japan. I’ve neglected the south for too long, so like last year, it’s my main destination again.

We’ll revisit some familiar spots, but of course, we’ll also try plenty of new things. This trip feels a bit strange—no more of that initial magic, but on the other hand, we’ve really explored some off-the-beaten-path and private locations. The variety of regions, landscapes, and vehicles I’ve photographed is pretty remarkable. In search of vintage trains and threatened lines, I think my future trips will follow the same vibe.

After the 2017 and 2024 travel journals, it’s time to dive into Japan’s lesser-known side—all by public transport, of course. Day 1, arrival in Tokyo

The timing won’t be like other years since we arrive at Narita in the mid-afternoon after a layover in Hong Kong.

The only real mission for this afternoon is picking up tickets for the next day. And already, the first travel stress: I’ll have to rewrite the entire day because the Revaty Kinu 109 to Kinugawaonsen is fully booked, just like all the morning trains. So instead of a relaxed start exploring Ueno, I’m back to scrutinizing schedules. I manage to snag something last-minute after struggling for hours. Then, I wait for a message from Seiichi to meet up for dinner. Meeting friends on the first day and staying up late with jet lag—like I said, this trip isn’t like the others.

A great evening at a place I love.

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Voyageur1990 4 weeks ago · Yemen

Visiting Cork City

Hello everyone,

We’ve just returned from a few days in Cork with my partner, and we really wanted to share our experience with you. We loved the vibe of the city and its surroundings!

What we loved:

The highlight of our visit was definitely our guided walking tour of Cork City. We booked it through GetYourGuide with Dorren, and honestly, it was amazing. If you're looking for a guide in French, go for it—he’s the only one we found offering this service, and he does a remarkable job. He knows the city like the back of his hand and shared anecdotes we’d never have found in regular guidebooks.

We also spent ages at the English Market, a must-visit for food lovers. The atmosphere is authentic, the local products are excellent—it’s really the heart of the city.

A little stop in Cobh:

We also took the time to head down to Cobh. It’s a gorgeous town with its colorful houses climbing up the hill and its majestic cathedral overlooking the harbor. The maritime history is very present—it’s an emotional and very photogenic visit.

A few extra tips:

Must-see: St. Peter and Paul Church. It’s truly stunning, much more impressive and rich in detail than we expected.

Avoid: To be honest, we were a bit disappointed by St. Finbarr’s Cathedral. We’d heard so much about it, but inside, we felt the decor wasn’t really worth the entry fee. In my opinion, you can skip it or just admire it from the outside.

Food:

If you’re looking for somewhere to eat, we tried Market Lane. It was a real favorite! The ingredients are super fresh (they often use produce from the English Market), the menu is great, and the service is top-notch. Just remember to book ahead—it’s a popular spot, and now we understand why!

In short, Cork is a perfect destination for a city break. If you have any questions about the itinerary or the tour with Dorren, don’t hesitate!

Happy travels to those planning their trip! !

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Bibouns51 4 weeks ago

Off we go on an adventure in Puglia!

Hey there, VF crew!

After wrapping up our travel journal on Java (link below), we’re now diving into our recent adventure in Puglia! Happy reading... Off we go on an adventure in Java (and a bit of Bali) | Travel journal > Indonesia | Voyage Forum

Day 1 - October 19

When you tell your friends and family you’re itching to escape to the other side of the planet to mingle with the Mongols, you can usually expect a barrage of questionable jokes and terrible puns. For this new adventure, it’s a different destination but the same old story—this time, we’re visiting the "pouilleux" (the "scruffy" ones). We’re taking off straight for Puglia! If you need a cheat sheet to remember where this oddly named place is on a world map, just think of it this way: Puglia is the maiden name on the ID card of the heel of the Italian boot! Personally, I prefer to remember it as the land of creamy burrata, the smell of focaccia fresh from the oven, orecchiette shaped by mamas, golden olive oil that shines like the sun (which beams down here 300 days a year), amaretto that makes you happy, and those famous trulli—those little hobbit-like dry-stone houses straight out of a movie set...

But I’ll stop spoiling the rest of our trip and focus on a factual rundown of this first Puglian day. So, are you joining us on this new adventure beyond our Gallic borders? Either way, Sasha (my youngest) and Luna (Flo’s daughter) didn’t need much convincing to stick with us and keep up the pace!

Our plane drops our little crew in Bari, the site of a famously tragic battle lost in 1991. But revenge is sweet! After renting a motorized carriage, we escape the landing zone and head to our military base of operations: Ostuni, a strategic little town where we’ll set up camp for the next four days. Why Ostuni? First, for its central location, which lets us explore a region packed with must-see gems. Second, for its vibe and beauty, which have earned it quite the reputation. Perched high on a hill, the *città bianca* (the "White City") lives up to its nickname. It literally dazzles visitors. The reason? The whitewashed facades of its houses, a testament to the region’s rich architectural heritage.

We arrived late last night, so only the two bravest soldiers volunteered to scout ahead at dawn, while the younger recruits stayed behind—for now. But not for long! After the first wave of streets and the next round of exploration, headquarters made the inevitable call to retreat. Reinforcements were needed! A few strategic errands, a breakfast ration, and our battalion marched in tight formation, flag held high, to conquer Ostuni the White! *Charge!* In my squadron leader’s memoirs, I’ll write that I didn’t expect Ostuni to put up such a fight. What I thought would take two hours to conquer turned into a humbling experience—we could only bow in respect to its beauty, its relentless charm. The alleys are whiter, more labyrinthine, narrower, and more photogenic than the last. *Veni, vidi, vici*—but what an entrance, my troops!

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Ticapi 4 weeks ago · VallM17

Some trips are born twice - Peru April - May 2025

Some trips are born twice.

Ours was supposed to happen in 2020. Everything was ready: the itinerary, the flight tickets, hotel reservations and Machu Picchu, the rental car, dreams of high altitudes and wide-open spaces. And then the world stopped.

Like so many other plans, our trip to Peru was put on hold. Disappointment was followed by a more concrete reality: paperwork, endless back-and-forth, and battles to recover some of the costs we’d already paid.

The years went by. Life moved on, with its shifting priorities and unexpected twists. Rescheduling this trip wasn’t possible until 2025.

The itinerary stayed mostly true to what we’d imagined five years earlier. One major difference, though—in 2020, we’d planned to rent a car and explore the roads completely independently. Most importantly, we hadn’t included the three-day Ausangate trek, due to lack of time.

For 2025, our plans evolved. 4x4 rental prices had skyrocketed, and when we looked at our schedule more closely, we realized quite a few days didn’t actually need a vehicle. So we made a different choice and opted for private drivers instead. A decision we never regretted. Always punctual, thoughtful, and available... they were so much more than just drivers.

All our reservations were made in January, except for the trek, which we booked in February.

Finding reliable drivers on our own was tough, so we asked Laurent from Tout Pérou to handle it for us. Going through Tout Pérou also gave us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, so Laurent booked those tickets too. He also bought our Machu Picchu entrance tickets at the same price we would’ve paid on the official website. When comparing domestic flight prices, we found it was cheaper to book from Peru, so Laurent took care of those as well.

This time, nothing was going to stop us. Peru was waiting. And we were ready. 🙂

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