BRAVO,
Exceptionnel ton carnet j'en pleure de rire 🙂 🙂
J'espère que votre voyage va durer longtemppps mais alors longtemmpppssss 😛
March 2nd — Departure by bus from Latour at 6:50 AM. The journey isn’t direct: we pass through Elne then Corneilla. In Perpignan, I switch to a BlablaBus heading to Barcelona’s northern bus station. Before reaching Le Perthus, French police stop us to check IDs. Several people aren’t in order, but after about fifteen minutes, we’re on our way again. We’re checked again at La Jonquera: this time, the wait lasts almost forty-five minutes while police identify those in violation and wait for a vehicle to pick them up. The driver then tries to make up for lost time; we finally arrive at our destination half an hour late.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.

Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.

Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church

, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes

—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit. I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.



Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.


We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.

Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.

Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church

, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes

—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit. I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.



Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.


We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.

"Si...je crois que c'est un léopard..."
"Un léo ! merde ! Iléou Iléou ?
"Iléla, mais je vois mal, recule un peu...non avance maintenant ...recule un poil...avance...oui...top ! C'est bon !"
"Iléou Iléou ?"
"Là, mais....c'est pas un léo en fait..."
"Ah..." ...déçu..."C'est quoi ?"
"Un hibou..."
"Pardon ? Mais comment peut-on confondre un léopard et un hibou ?!?"
"Ben...ils ont tous les deux les yeux jaunes..."
"Ha ! ça y'est je le vois !" Hurle Fanny "Moi aussi ! " confirme Camille.
"Pas moi..." je maugrée " déjà que hier, j'ai pas été foutu de voir VOTRE guépard , voilà que je peux même pas voir VOTRE hibou à la mord moi'l..."
"Rhooooo, t'énerve pas, tu vois la grosse branche là ?
"Oui"
"Tu la suis jusqu'à l'embranchement et tu descends, puis à droite" "oui" " puis à gauche " "oui" " puis tu remontes" "oui" "et bien c'est là : dans l'angle ! "
"Ah...oui...c'est nul..."
"Comment ça c'est nul ?"
"Ben il est nul ton hibou : on voit qu'un p'tit bout d'hibou et il est tout moche !"
"Ça, faut reconnaître qu'il est pas terrible..."
"Ouais, il est carrément quelconque..."
"Quelconque mon hibou ?!? Ben on m'y reprendra à vous débusquer des hiboux ! Va essayer de me trouver un bel hibou comme ça tiens ? Vous, vous êtes juste bons à trouver des éléphants ici ! MOI au moins, je fais dans l'O-Ri-Gi-NA-Li-TÉ !"
"Ça...faut reconnaître..."

Cet autre éléphant nous rappelle les bases de la composition photographique : points chauds , diagonale...
Un hippopotame perplexe évalue le trajet
" Bon...je sors à droite entre les 2 p'tits crocos, j'écrase la tronche de celui de gauche, je massacre la queue de celui de droite et je dégage pendant que les parents affolés s'en occupent, puis je file à gauche pour essayer de passer avant que la grosse éléphante ait bouché le passage...ça doit le faire...l'inconnue, c'est les Kobs...c'est con les kobs...surtout ces deux là on dirait, y'a qu'à regarder leurs coups de soleil ! Peuh !...bon, j'y vais !"
Plus grosse que le dindon, mais plus petite que l'autruche, cet oiseau n'arrive décidément pas à trouver sa place en ce monde, il se cherche , il persiffle, il moque et se fourvoie... Tu devrais t'accepter telle que tu es la boutarde et tu mépriserais moins les gens, tu serais peut-être aimée , Qui sait ?
Mais elle n'écoute pas mes pensées la boutarde, elle méprise et elle passe : c'est tout...
les girafes prises une à une sont des anges dont la grâce ne peut être ternie que par la position qu'elle prennent quand elles se désaltèrent en vous tournant le dos.
Quand elles sont en groupe, ce sont des harpies !
La boutarde, cette fois ci, en fera les frais, la savane est cruelle, sa loi est celle du plus fort, le nombre supplante les solitaires qui n'ont d'autre recours que de se replier en un mépris feint que l'on espère salvateur...
Mais les commères ne lâchent pas aussi facilement, elles harcèlent de leurs cancans la pauvre boutarde qui, certes , l'a un peu cherché, mais quand même...
Et quand on pense que maintenant il y a Facebook, Instagram...la pauvre...
Je suis pris de pitié pour cette grande boutarde...
"Bon, heu...t'as l'intention de dormir ici ou quoi ?"
"Hein ? Non, je contemplais cette scène d'une rare violence et me disais que la nature est belle , mais également fort cruelle..."
"Pardon ?"
"Non...rien..."
Nous saluons l'écureuil et le merle avant de sortir une dernière fois de Moremi.




, nos courses faites, nous trouvons rapidement au fond du supermarché une espèce de snack où ils vendent des trucs à emporter, de la cuisine locale assez basique que nous mangerons sur le parking et qui s'avèrera délicieuse, à compter de ce jour, nous choisirons systématiquement ces endroits pour nous nourrir sur les trajets sans jamais être déçus par le rapport qualité prix imbattable.
nous sommes au pays des éléphants et la DDE locale ne se prive pas de vous le faire savoir, les panneaux " attention éléphant" se succèdent, je pense qu'un panneau " attention éléphants" serait plus justifié avec plusieurs éléphants sur le dessin puisque nous les croiserons systématiquement en groupes de 3 à 5 le long de cette longue ligne droite qui pointe le nord.




































(cette photo n'est pas de moi)























Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...


I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:


A little sneak peek?















Since Albania isn’t part of Europe when it comes to phone service (at least not yet! :-)), we had to buy a physical SIM card—otherwise, the bill would’ve been sky-high if we’d used our French plan! We got one from Vodafone AL at the airport. You can buy online before leaving with a virtual SIM (e-SIM) for compatible phones, so you don’t have to swap cards. But given the uncertainty about choosing a plan online, we preferred buying one directly at Tirana Airport. Cost: 31 € for 100 GB. That’s way too much—100 GB is overkill. For 40 GB, it’s 27 €, and the plan lasts 21 days. The price difference isn’t huge, and it was cheaper than online. This plan covers all the countries along the Balkan range.
Money tip: All guesthouses and accommodations accept euros. The local currency in Albania is the LEK. In Montenegro, it’s the euro. Bank fees for withdrawing money from an ATM in Albania are pretty steep: 8 € for a withdrawal of 600–700 LEK (about 200 €)! So it’s better to withdraw cash (euros) in France. Oh, and we booked all our accommodations before leaving, but payment is always in cash. Budget around 400–500 € for 9 days of trekking.
I really liked Shköder, especially its pedestrian street lined with restaurants and lit up at night. It’s a great place to stroll and eat. The food isn’t expensive—two big salads and two beers: 14 € :-) . Fruit prices are also very reasonable: 3 € for a kilo of cherries, compared to 9–10 € in France.
Religions coexist peacefully in these countries—Catholics and Muslims. From our balcony, my friend heard the call to prayer for the first time, coming from one of the city’s mosques.


We slept in the heights of Theth at a new guesthouse, "Mountain Vista Shkafi," with an amazing view.







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.













