Albania in 2012, especially in the mountains, where some people were happy to chat in French. A bit less so on the coast, which was already open to tourists.
Turkey, where I was often invited to breakfast with the women. One day, after eating at a local restaurant, my meal was paid for by other customers—a popular spot in the east.
But of course, it’s all subjective.
For me, it’s Egypt—but Southern Egypt, not the North (they’re awful). I’ve never had as much contact with people as I did with Egyptians anywhere else. Even after returning to my homeland, we’re still in touch...
Otherwise, a mind-blowing experience was in Turkey.
We set off on a trek, I sprained my ankle, so walking was no longer possible. The group left without me, leaving me with three kind gentlemen. They offered me tea, treats, and the highlight: a massage for my ankle with motor oil... an unforgettable memory!!!
Then, 15 years ago, a monk healed my burn in Thailand at a temple I stumbled upon by chance. We spent the day with them. Magical!
"... the people who charmed you the most ..."—it’s often the people *I’ve* charmed the most! And you’ve got to settle in and stay awhile in one place to really notice how kind people are.
My experience:
France—yes, stop beating yourselves up—after a dozen trips and stays, and I’m planning to go back. Burkina Faso, where I spent 3 months, Indonesians (I’ve been there three times), and several Americans (but in their own country) from different states.
Pierroro
Quand le moment est arrivé, l'heure est venue! (C.Bobin.)
- et je vous remercie par avance pour votre réponse.
France, yes, stop beating yourselves up, and that’s after about ten trips and stays, and I’m planning to go back. Burkina Faso, where I spent 3 months, Indonesians, where I’ve been three times, and several Americans (but in their own country) from different states.
The Luberon—what a beautiful region of France!
I brought back so many great (and delicious) memories.
Two month-long stays (house-sitting in Rochefort-du-Gard) let me discover your stunning Luberon.
PS: Jean Ferrat. "Ma France" still gives me chills. What a song! What a poet! I had the pleasure of seeing him perform in Montreal... last century ;)
Pierroro
Quand le moment est arrivé, l'heure est venue! (C.Bobin.)
- et je vous remercie par avance pour votre réponse.
PS: Jean Ferrat. "Ma France" still gives me chills. What a song! What a poet! I had the pleasure of seeing him perform in Montreal... in the last century.
I didn’t know he was well-known in Quebec or that he’d toured there.
Thanks for this tribute to the Luberon!
A few verses from a local poetess...
THE LUBERON
The limestone there is like snow,
So white it fools many,
And on the beige-shaded earth
The rock is all dusted with russet.
A forest of black cedars
Crowns the somber cliff,
And in the golden evening light,
The ravines fill with shadow.
It’s a very harsh mountain,
Dry at heart, without a speck of green.
You see strange wounds there
And circular stains...
From my experiences as a young man traveling alone: Indians!
In one year, I’d spent nearly a month and a half on trains across the country. Every trip was the same... 24, 36, or 42 hours long... and eventually, every passenger would come up to me one by one to chat, ask why I was there, give me advice, or even offer me food...
How many times did I ask for directions? And end up at a local’s home, where it was out of the question for them *not* to walk me there!
Ever since I’ve gone back as a couple, the connection isn’t the same—it creates a barrier that just doesn’t exist when you’re traveling solo!
I haven’t been everywhere, but... between the Vietnamese, Laotians, and Indians: no contest.
Si l'on ne meurt qu'une fois...alors vivons à l'infini!
Ever since I’ve gone back as a couple... the connection isn’t the same because it creates a barrier that just doesn’t exist when you’re traveling solo!
Totally true, especially in countries like India or the Middle East. Generally, you’ll find it’s way easier to connect with people when you’re traveling alone.
Oman: everyone super welcoming, almost everywhere we were invited to drink tea, very warm
Australia: very often friendly with a smile and ready to help us
Myanmar: also very smiley, easy contact and warm
Le plus beau voyage est celui qu'on n'a pas encore fait
Good evening, yes, I agree—the Malaysians are pretty friendly, even more so than the Singaporeans. Because in Singapore, sometimes you get a totally detestable and appalling welcome. I don’t know if it’s a difference in standard of living...
Anyway, yes, generally Malaysians are welcoming, especially in Sarawak.
hi Midounette69, you're welcome.
And when it comes to the "unfriendly people," are you talking about the folks from the Hexagon? 😎😎
No, I’ll stop—have a great Sunday, everyone!
Back from Myanmar, I’d rank this country at the top of my list for the most welcoming people. It’s been a while since I’ve encountered such warmth and kindness toward foreigners. Could their deep Buddhist faith have something to do with it? The country isn’t overrun by mass tourism yet, so I hope it doesn’t change too quickly.
That’s fair, but if you don’t mind, I’d slightly qualify your point. 🙂
The first contact we have with "locals" usually happens in public spaces. However, behavior in public spaces varies greatly from one country to another, even from one region to another. What a French person, for example, might perceive as coldness, indifference, or even aggression often just reflects local customs regarding public behavior. That "first impression" can be heavily skewed by cultural differences, leading us to misinterpret what’s actually normal behavior there.
So, it really depends on what we mean by "welcoming." Are we talking about the "initial welcome," meaning the general vibe you get while walking down the street? Or are we referring to people who, once you’ve actually engaged with them, show warmth, willingness to help, and genuine kindness?
As someone who’s traveled a lot in the former Soviet countries, I’m not sure if Ukrainians would fit the first definition from the perspective of someone visiting Ukraine without knowing the social codes. But I can confidently say that many—if not the vast majority—of them definitely fit the second definition.
Being more and more used to Slavic countries, I know what to expect in public spaces, and it doesn’t shock me (well, some people are colder than others...). Let’s just say it’s not for everyone, but since I’m not a fan of big displays of affection and don’t find it easy to connect at first either, it actually works for me (within limits, of course...).
I still have to discover the Russians! Mostly negative feedback, especially in public spaces (worse than in other Slavic countries, or so I’ve heard).
Adding my two cents :-) My top 3 (recently updated since I was in Sudan last November). It's totally subjective, of course, and there are plenty of other countries where people are super welcoming, but these three are really in a league of their own!
1 - Sudan
2 - Iran
3 - Pakistan
You’d almost wonder if the "an" has something to do with it ;-)
I went to Lebanon in 2011, and I found the people closed-off, very self-centered, women arrogant and superficial, men show-offs....
In short, I hated it.
I came across your description of Lebanon in 2011, and I’d swear you’re describing France in 2017...
I went to Lebanon in 2011, and I found the people closed-off, very self-centered, women arrogant and superficial, men show-offs....
In short, I hated it.
I stumbled upon your description of Lebanon from 2011, and I’d swear you’re talking about France in 2017...
It's hard to answer this question.
It really depends on everyone's experiences.
Everywhere you go, you'll find all kinds of people—some welcoming, others less so...
But if I had to answer, I’d say (for now):
- Sri Lankans
- Malians
Of course, this is just my personal take, based on the amazing memories I have from spending several months there... And I’ll probably be adding India to the list soon, since I’m heading there in January! But obviously, I can’t say for sure yet... 😉
hey, gotta say that Belgians aren’t as confrontational as another neighboring people 😛
It’s Stéphane de Groodt, among others, who says so.
And he also says—something I’ve always thought, by the way—that Belgians have a sense of the absurd, the ridiculous side of things.
To me, French-speaking Belgians are basically French-speaking Anglo-Saxons.
That’s why I really appreciate this people.
Yesterday, someone asked me which Italian city I liked best, and I really struggled to answer.
I wanted to say I loved all the Italian cities I’ve visited—the welcome I received each time was wonderful—before changing my mind: in Venice, I got totally ripped off.
Isn’t Venice an Italian city?
And then, my amazing experiences in other Italian cities mostly happened while hiking the Via Francigena. Did being a walker, or maybe even a "pilgrim" for some, play a happy role in that?
If I’d visited Italy with a tour operator dragging me from shop to shop, would I still have such great memories of the country? 😐
For a long time, I couldn’t stop praising the warmth of the Czechs I’d met when their country was still Czechoslovakia. Since then, I’ve encountered Czechs who weren’t particularly warm, which made me tone down my initial enthusiasm. 🤪
This year, I hiked the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) in the U.S. and met so many Americans who were incredibly kind to hikers. Would I have found the same kindness in every corner of the country?
P.S.: I usually love helping lost tourists in Paris as best I can, but recently I almost snapped at a woman asking for directions. I was just tired, stressed, weighed down with stuff, and really needed to pee. 😕
"La seule chose dont on soit sûr, en ce qui concerne l'avenir, c'est qu'il n'est jamais conforme à nos prévisions." (Jean Dutourd)
It teaches us that there’s nowhere we don’t project our own feelings.
And since the world is constantly steeped in duality, everything depends on context.
A context we perceive as pleasant will be illustrated by people who seem "welcoming."
A context we perceive as unpleasant, on the other hand, will show a population that seems "unfriendly."
But all of this is purely subjective, since it’s the result of our perception.
A projection of who we are in the moment, seeing through our eyes at that time.
And so, of course, a perception that differs from one person to another.
Different and unique to each individual.
So how can we truly define what’s "welcoming" and what’s not?
We’re all unique in how we perceive the world.
And at the same time, each of us has different life paths and experiences.
Your examples, Ludomero, really illustrate what I’ve just been talking about...
This year I hiked the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) in the United States, where I met many Americans who were particularly kind to hikers. Would I have found the same kindness in every corner of the country?
Absolutely, I also found Americans really friendly during our hikes in the West, especially in Wyoming and Montana. Most of them were hikers from big cities in different states. A couple we met in Glacier NP even invited us to dinner at their place in San Francisco. I find them welcoming, open-minded, and easygoing—just nice people. The same goes for New Zealand.
Otherwise, I had excellent interactions with locals in the Philippines, Myanmar, Iran, Turkey, and Syria. I think Nepalis are incredibly kind, and Serbs too. All these people are extremely hospitable.
On the other hand, I didn’t connect as much with Peruvians and Bolivians, probably because of the language barrier. My Spanish is pretty bad, and few of them speak English.
I also didn’t find Namibians particularly welcoming, but that’s likely because it’s a very touristy destination and the way you travel is different. Everyone’s in their own 4x4, so you don’t cross paths with many people. It’s more of a contemplative trip than one filled with encounters.
Often, the stranger in front of us is a reflection of ourselves... Some French people make little effort to communicate, and that’s too bad.
Thanks to everyone for the interesting discussions.
I now live in Guadeloupe / St Martin.
I don’t find the people here to be the most open or smiley. I’ve experienced much friendlier places elsewhere. But I’m here for the quality of life.
No yellow vests—just swimsuits.
No veterans from November 11th.
Just sun-kissed folks. Hehe
hi there, Latin people in my experience.
Not only is it easy to chat with them, even with strangers, but we also touch each other to emphasize our conversations 🤗
Some other cultures step back as if we had the plague 😄
hi, Latin people in my opinion.
Not only is it easy to talk to them, even with strangers, but we also touch each other to emphasize our conversations 🤗
Some other people back away as if we had the plague 😂
I agree. We really have an easy way with people, whether in Mexico or Colombia. I should add that my family is Spanish—it helps ;)
Hi there, I’d say Latin people, personally.
Not only is it easy to strike up a conversation, even with strangers, but we also touch each other to emphasize our exchanges 🤗
Some other cultures step back as if we had the plague 😂
I totally agree. We’re really easy to connect with, whether in Mexico or Colombia. Though I should mention my family is Spanish—that helps ;)
I’m also from a Latin culture. That said, people say we can be superficial. But what about others—are they always sincere and "wholehearted" in ongoing relationships?
I dunno, my best friend is Argentinian and a very good Mexican friend, and I wouldn’t call them superficial—quite the opposite, with that philosopher-aesthete-psychoanalyst vibe that a lot of Argentinians have 😏. Not trying to lean into stereotypes, but Argentinians *do* have a way of talking... And in both Mexico and Colombia, we found that people quickly dive into serious topics, like politics (Latin America is *super* politicized, by the way).
I don’t know, my best friend is Argentinian and a very good Mexican friend, and I wouldn’t call them superficial—quite the opposite, with that philosopher-aesthete-psychoanalyst side that many Argentinians have Without wanting to fall into clichés, Argentinians *do* talk a lot, though... And in both Mexico and Colombia, we found that people quickly shift to serious topics, like politics (Latin America is *very* politicized, by the way).
It was the opposite for me in Colombia, where I spent 6 years. People would tell me, "You can go there" or "You can’t go there" (it was in a conflict zone). They were considerate with me, very protective, but I felt that anything related to the guerrilla was off-limits. I saw them as "big" kids—so joyful. Often, people who’ve suffered express a contagious zest for life and joy 🤩
Funny to see this discussion resurface!
The key word here is "welcoming" rather than just "friendly," "kind," or "helpful." For me, the gold medal goes to Iranians (though that was a while ago) and more generally to the Middle East—so much to learn from them!
I’ve also had many great experiences in Latin America, but I tend to attribute that to the fact that my wife speaks fluent Spanish. Goes to show how speaking the local language can really change things and make connecting with locals easier.
Hands down, the French are the most welcoming people: human and women's rights for everyone, free healthcare, housing wherever you want, and so many associations. I even helped an American one day by pointing out the most interesting provinces to visit.
« 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
If there were a ranking for hospitality, I definitely wouldn’t put France in the top 10!
We’re talking about the welcome tourists or travelers in general receive—the human contact with the average French person, their willingness to help others, and give directions...
The welcome in accommodations and restaurants.
We’re *not* talking about social services (healthcare, housing assistance, etc.) for French citizens or charities like the Restos du Cœur! 😕
Two recent examples in "Eastern Europe":
1- Romania
After arriving at the airport, we took a bus to the city center. There were ticket counters, but they weren’t very close, and recently, you’ve been able to pay by card on the bus. I present my card to buy the first ticket, then try again for the second, but it’s declined... I only have one card, so no other payment options. A passenger sees we’re struggling, leaves their seat, and pays for our second ticket with their card. I try to reimburse them in cash, but they refuse outright.
2- Albania
We rented bikes in Shkodër to ride along the lake. 15 km from the city, I got a flat tire. No repair shops in sight. At a small bar in a village, a local walked me to a friend’s place who had the tools to fix a puncture—but the person wasn’t home. He told me to leave my bike by the door and come back around noon. We wandered the village on foot, and a kind woman filled a bag with oranges for us—just a gift.
When we returned, my bike was fixed. I knocked on the door of the person who did the work and asked how much I owed. No matter how much I insisted, they refused any payment.
Like others here, for me, the prize for hospitality goes to the Iranians and the Mexicans.
Both countries suffer from a very bad reputation. A dreadful theocracy combined with a rogue state for one, a democratic state that hasn’t managed to solve its security issues for the other. But these sad reputations aren’t deserved for the vast majority of Iranian and Mexican people.
On the podium, I’d also add Kiwis for their very courteous welcome and their sense of humor.
As for Bolivians, who might seem sullen, don’t judge by appearances. Life is tough in Bolivia, and these people have endured five centuries of humiliation.
However, "if someone offered all peoples the chance to choose the best of all customs, after examining them, each would choose their own."
Herodotus, Histories.
Regarding Mexico, this is really old news... A rogue state? Corrupt police?
With my girlfriend at the time, we hitchhiked across the entire country. In the Yucatán, exactly at a crossroads in the middle of the forest near Escárcega, a truck driver dropped us off as night was falling.
The nearest village, Zapata, was about 10 km away... it was late. A police car approached us. One of the officers asked where we were planning to go... We weren’t really sure. They drove off, and since no cars were passing, we decided to start walking on foot. We were in the middle of the forest. The police car came back, stopped in front of us, and took us to Zapata. They dropped us off in front of a hotel that was more "luxurious" than the ones we were used to. They even negotiated the room price for us—it ended up being the best value for money of our entire trip! 😊
Back in the day, I had an extraordinary welcome from Californians: a guy who put me up for a week and left me the keys to his apartment, a couple I met on the plane who invited me to their place in Santa Barbara, people who say hello in the morning when you walk past their house, folks who spontaneously come to help when you're looking for your way, a guy with his guitar who invited me to join a party that evening up on the hill.
If you are going to San Francisco....
« 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
Hello everyone, and happy weekend! 😊
There are some ideas we repeat without really thinking about them...
Like the one about the "most welcoming people."
But after traveling a lot and observing, you realize that hospitality doesn’t have a passport.
It’s all about a glance, a smile, a shared moment—not nationality. Honestly, I don’t think one people is more welcoming than another. Everywhere, you meet nice people… and some who are a little less so.
Saying a country is "the most welcoming" just because you met five or six kind people there is a pretty small sample size.
When you travel for fun, you’re relaxed, curious, and quick to smile—sometimes even a little starry-eyed at everything you discover.
And since one smile often leads to another, the interactions *seem* warm.
The locals, though, are often just intrigued: what amazes us is just their everyday life.
But let’s also admit that many tourist spots are run by people from elsewhere, often there for business.
So between "commercial" smiles and services given in hopes of a tip, you might think you’ve had a meaningful human connection… when maybe not.
Fortunately, there are also truly beautiful encounters, with locals who take a little time to chat.
And those are often the moments we remember most from a trip.
But let’s be real: how many people actually have that kind of time?
They’re working while we’re wandering around.
I think the key is mostly our own attitude.
The more open we are to others, the more likely we are to stumble upon real moments of connection.
There’s also an element of luck, of course…
But since most tourists stick to the well-trodden areas, opportunities to talk with "real locals" are rare.
So saying one people is more welcoming than another?
To me, it’s more of a feeling than a truth. 😛
There are a whole bunch of factors at play.
You’re often better received in places that haven’t been spoiled by tourism.
It’s easier to find friendly people in a warm country than in a region with a harsh climate.
Then there’s religion or its remnants; in some countries, travelers must be welcomed because they could be an envoy of the Almighty.
When we talk about welcoming people, it’s without considering the behavior of visitors.
« 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
There are a whole bunch of factors at play.
We’re often welcomed better in places that haven’t been spoiled by tourism.
It’s easier to find friendly people in a warm country than in a place with a harsh climate.
Then there’s religion or its remnants; in some countries, travelers must be welcomed because they could be envoys of the Almighty.
When we talk about welcoming people, it’s without considering the behavior of visitors.
That’s not wrong. But once again, as you put it so well, it also depends on us.
Being from the South, I find it easy to approach people.
And recently, I traveled to a few Northern European countries (cold-climate places) and noticed the locals’ surprise at how casually I’d strike up a conversation. Their surprise only lasted a few seconds because my way of approaching them hit the mark, and their "coldness" vanished instantly.
En écho de discussions récurrentes sur le forum Maroc et ses célèbres infondés enquiquinements marrakchis, je m'interroge à nouveau sur le fameux "on". Qui…
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Expatrié à Barcelone depuis 2 ans, ca fait quelques mois que je suis complètement démotivé... voir même déprimé, très très déprimé... J’ai perdu le goût des…
Bonjour à tous et à toutes qui se retrouvent sur ce forum !
Je sais d’avance que ce que je vais dire ici ne va pas plaire à tout le monde, mais la franchise est une qualité, n‘est-ce pas ?
Voilà, cela fait moultes années que je retrouve une manie dans les postes francophones de plaquer des abréviations à tout bout de champ, comme une manière de montrer qu‘on est ‘introduit dans le sujet‘. Je m‘explique en donnant quelques exemples :
- - Dans des discussions sur le Pérou, je trouve ‘Aguas‘ pour ‘Aguas Calientes‘. Et s‘il s‘agit du Mexique, allez, ce sera ‘Aguas‘ pour ‘Aguascalientes‘ !
- - Pour le Guatemala, les ‘voyageurs‘ diront ‘Guaté‘ . Allez donc, dire ‘Guatemalas‘, ce serait peut-être le signe indiscutable de ne rien y connaitre sur le pays en question ???
- - De retour de l‘Indonésie, beaucoup diront à quel degré ils se sont familiarisés avec la langue du pays : le ‘bahasa‘. Bien sur, tout un chacun saura de quoi on parle, mais ça me hérisse tout de même, car la langue (l‘une des multiples langues) de l‘Indonésie, c‘est le ‘bahasa Indonesia‘. ‘Bahasa‘ veut d‘ailleurs dire ‘langue‘, et on retrouve ce mot d’origine Indienne ‘Bhāṣā‘ (c‘est du sanskrit au départ) ailleurs qu‘en Indonésie : en Thaïlande par exemple, toute langue sera ‘phasǎa‘ comme dans ‘phasǎa thaï‘ (le Thai officiel), ‘phasǎa iisǎan‘ (ce qu‘on parle dans le nord-est de la Thaïlande, ‘phasǎa angkrit‘ = l‘Anglais etc.
Suis-je un incorrigible pinailleur ? Peut-être. Mais je trouverais ridicule également si un étranger venait me dire qu‘il/elle a visité ‘Monte‘ pendant son voyage en France, cela ayant été Monte Carlo.
Je lis beaucoup en Anglais et je ne crois pas avoir rencontré une telle manie chez les anglophones.
Who’d like to share their best and worst travel memories in a few lines?
For me, it’s watching the TAJ MAHAL at sunrise and getting chased by dogs at the top of a mountain pass in GREECE on the way back from ISTANBUL.
THANKS GUYS
This is my 15,000th post, and it's a message I would have preferred never to write.
Patrick—Yangguizi—won’t be returning from his trek in Uganda. His health betrayed him in the mountains.
Like many of you, I laughed until I couldn’t anymore at his travel stories. I met him in Shanghai, then in Istanbul... We scoured restaurants—he was an incredible expert on world cuisines. We relived Korea, China. Always brilliant, so sharp, so funny, so down-to-earth. Being even a little bit his friend was something to be proud of. I think I envied him.
Patrick is still out there, of course...
He found his happiness running across the world. He’s on his path. He never doubted that "the traveler doesn’t even know if he’ll return one day."
Not sure this would’ve suited him, but his departure devastates me.
Alright,
Farewell, you foreign devil. Safe travels.
hello to all travelers with their eyes wide open to the desert...
I’ve always wondered what I was "doing" on this earth. And why my father, who died a few months after I was born—a former youngest French resistance fighter—joined the First Saharan Motorized Company in Atar and spent the rest of his life repairing army engines in Algeria, Mauritania, Senegal, Mali (which didn’t exist under that name back then), Morocco, and finally Algeria, where my mother was born and raised. (Believe me, it’s not "cool" being the child of a soldier in a country occupied by France, and even less so the child of a "pied-noir.")
Of course, I never got an answer: the dead don’t talk, and the army doesn’t either.
But here’s the thing—I had photos...
So naturally, one day I hit the road. I wanted to see, to understand.
It’s thanks to VF that I was able to do a little research on crossing the Morocco-Mauritania border, and I’m grateful to its members, just as I’m grateful to all those who welcomed me on the road for 14 years.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been wondering if I should talk about this or not...
It turns out the Mauritanians changed my life by asking for my help... And that started as early as February 2012... (Did I owe them something? No answer to that question.)
Ah, the irony—they saw me coming. But when you’re handed sick children and begged to do something, what would you have done? I’d worked in a hospital, so I knew a bit about the rules to follow. I didn’t hesitate.
And well, over all these years, I met doctors, surgeons, and together we organized care, evacuations of children, training for surgeons—even trying to stop children from having to travel outside their country. It was never easy. I’d like to thank those who supported us, as well as *La Chaîne de l’Espoir*, *La Fondation Face au Monde*, and everyone who built bridges between our two countries.
Unfortunately, despite the constant efforts of Mauritanian doctors and surgeons, some children couldn’t be helped in time. Today, I want to talk about four siblings—orphans of their mother—suffering from congenital glaucoma causing irreversible blindness. Their case was entrusted to me in 2020, just weeks before the big lockdown. We couldn’t do anything for them then, but when their father asked me for a gift, I rushed to my computer and wrote a story.
Through a tale, the children take a great journey, explore their country, and fulfill a dream. I never thought this book would be published—it was, in 2023.
This book pays tribute to Mauritania. It’s a message for those who know nothing about the hardships of life there, carrying both the harshness and beauty of an immense desert where you can travel by 4x4, bike, on foot, or by camel in complete safety. It bears witness to the kindness of Mauritanians toward travelers.
As a woman traveling alone in my vehicle—a now-rusted old Mercedes that no longer runs—I had the most beautiful encounters of my life there (I’ve seen other parts of the world...). The blind children of Choum, Atar, Nouadhibou, and Nouakchott will forever be in my heart.
Volunteer readers transcribed the book into a free audio version for the visually impaired. It’s available in sound libraries in France, the *Fondation Valentin Haüy*, and the Swiss Romande library.
I made my last trip to Mauritania in my old 4x4 to distribute the book everywhere, especially to its heroes and the school for the visually impaired in Nouakchott.
After that, I thought it was time to close the chapter because I no longer have the means or the strength to travel.
My publishers chose this title for it: *The Blue Eyes of the Desert*.
This publication helped a mission of Swiss volunteer ophthalmologists come to operate on glaucomas in Mauritania. I’m thrilled because they come back every year!
This adventure is ending, yes—everything must come to an end—but ultimately, it was born here, on the VF site!! So yes, I had to say it: THANK YOU!!!!!
Hi everyone,
I’m Loulou, a French expat who’s been living in Southeast Asia for about fifteen years, currently in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. A passionate walker at heart, I’ve trekked in Nepal (Thorung La, Mardi Himal), India, Vietnam, and I’m still planning new hikes (Char Dham, Langtang, Annapurna).
I’ve just published my first travel journal, recounting three months of walking and encounters across India. A portion of the sales goes to an educational center I support in Kep, for children whose parents work in the salt marshes.
I’m also working on a second book about Nepal with a musician friend, focusing on the Mardi Himal trek—two independent perspectives on the same journey.
Happy to swap stories with you about the Himalayas, India, Southeast Asia, or just the urge to hit the road and walk far from home.
Safe travels,
Loulou
Hi! It was totally by chance that I stumbled upon VoyageForum (an ad online and a story lol), and I’ve been reading some really old posts from 2011 about Thai massage schools—discussions on how to get by, accommodation, prices, etc. It reminded me of my own experience: I kept things simple by staying with a local family during my entire trip. I only shared all the expenses with them, which, I’ll admit, was super cheap… and I often traveled with them, which naturally opened a lot of doors for me. To start, at the school in Salaya, my Thai friend immediately connected me with Teacher Phong (the school’s mentor and teacher of teachers, a former monk). I was supposed to join a group session with other foreigners, but for some reason I don’t know, I got two days of private lessons for free with this expert… incredible! And on top of that, he loved France! It was an amazing experience. I "discovered" massage by chance—the Thai family just told me: "Try it, you’ll see!" (I’d had a pretty intense massage in the capital before 😅… but the next day, I felt unbelievably great!))
Every morning, I’d take a taxi (chosen by the Thai family at prices that beat all the competition) to this school—I’ve forgotten the name of the little village now… right in the heart of the countryside. Then, in the evenings, I’d keep practicing massage on all the family members… and they’d teach me Thai at the same time!))
Since then, I’ve practiced a bit, with lots of positive feedback. Following Teacher Phong’s advice—he thought my pressure was deep, firm, and precise—he strongly encouraged me to take this seriously.
I love Thailand so much. It’s a whole different way of living… and it’s a real blessing, even if I couldn’t live there full-time. Anyway, that was an unforgettable memory, and sometimes the Thai family and I still say hi—from 2011, 2013… right up to today!
"It seems to me that poverty would be less painful in the sun" wrote Aznavour...
Not sure...😕 Who can prove that people in hot countries are happier than others?
What do you think?
Is it better to live in Montpellier than in Lille?
Are the Pygmies happier than the Inuit?
Are Canadians less happy than the people of Louisiana?
Are there more French expats in hot countries?
And your travels? Do you choose your destinations based on the climate?
Do you rejoice when a bit of sunshine appears?
Hi everyone, just this once I’m not posting for a travel story, but to share a thought for Venezuela.
If you didn’t know—since it’s not making headlines—the country was hit by two 7.5-magnitude earthquakes last week. Over 2,200 people have died, more than 50,000 are missing, and some coastal towns have been completely destroyed.
Maybe when the scale of the humanitarian crisis becomes clear, our media will cover it a bit more... especially since earthquakes with this many casualties usually make the front page, but there’s been nothing in France.
So here’s a thought for this country, which, whatever you think of its politics, is a true jewel of South America, both for its landscapes and its people.
hi there
I’d like to invite you to discover my coastal province in central Vietnam: Quang Ngai.
This year, my province has really improved its infrastructure—mountains, countryside, and sea are all authentic here.
No harassers or thieves, and no Russians either.
A local lunch costs around 1 €.
A *** hotel room is about 25 €, and you can find hotels right on My Khe Beach.
We have a specialty: *banh xeo*—10 crepes for just 1.5 €.
You can rent motorbikes to explore the province and maybe visit the many ethnic minorities.
I live here—I’m not selling anything, but I can help if needed (my father-in-law is a traditional Vietnamese doctor and he’s very skilled).
Hi everyone! 😉
I’m Typhaine, 35 years old. Five years ago, I left France for a solo round-the-world trip—no planes, just a van, hitchhiking, cycling, and even a canoe in the Amazon! Today, I work as a naturalist guide in Argentine Patagonia.
Wherever I go, my compass stays the same: observing and photographing wildlife, which I deeply admire and respect.
My project: I’d love to share this experience through a sustainable, authentic, and immersive nature tourism initiative. But to build something meaningful, I need to understand how other nature enthusiasts experience their own adventures.
If you:
Are over 20 years old
Have a true passion for Nature
Have already taken at least one trip lasting more than 3 nights (in your country or abroad) in your life
Promise: I’m not selling anything, this isn’t marketing. Your answers are 100% anonymous and will only help me shape this wild project.
A huge thank you to everyone for your help and kindness! Looking forward to chatting in this thread 😛
(Dear admins, this is purely a collaborative effort for my project study, with no commercial purpose. Thank you so much for your support!)
Photo: Grizzly Bear (Ursus arctos horribilis), female on the left and her cub on the right. Photo taken by me in Alaska, Denali National Park.
It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.
A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question.
They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???
Not even a simple thank you!!!
From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕
Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????
I spent 3 weeks in Bali last summer (+ 3 nights on Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java). So I wanted to see what ChatGPT could suggest for comparison...
Here’s the prompt I gave:
"You’re a local expert guide for Bali.
- Plan a 20-day itinerary for Bali with a side trip to Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java without staying overnight.
- I’m traveling with my wife, and I love visiting historical sites, hiking, relaxing at the beach, snorkeling, and exploring rice terraces...
- For the duration of the stay, I don’t want more than 8 places to sleep, and I’d like to stay at least 2 days at each stop to avoid unpacking too often. Except for the last night, where I’m okay with just one night near the airport.
- I prefer neighborhoods that are walkable and try to avoid typical tourist traps, though I don’t want to miss the must-see spots. So suggest a mix of iconic sites and hidden gems.
- Recommend hotels or guesthouses with a budget of 50 to 100 € per night, including breakfast. Make suggestions in areas popular with travelers, specifying the vibe (I prefer quiet), and consider safety and proximity to attractions.
- For lunch and dinner, suggest two to three restaurants that are well-rated by customers.
- Give me a day-by-day program with details on travel times, visiting times for each point of interest, and recommendations for transportation (taxi, train, bike, etc.).
Estimate the total cost of the trip, including accommodations, food, transportation, and activities, and suggest two tips for saving money in each category.
- Don’t make anything up—be realistic about travel times, take into account the opening dates and hours of sites, and give me the entry fees for places to visit.
- Ask me all the questions until you’re 95% sure you understand what’s being asked. Don’t generate your response until you’ve understood."
The AI asked for a few clarifications:
"Great request—I can build you a really optimized and enjoyable itinerary, but to be 95% sure I hit the mark, I need a few key clarifications (this will really influence the pace, areas, and accommodations)."
In the end, it proposed a program very close to what we actually did.
I’ll skip its accommodation and restaurant suggestions...
Its proposal:
"Ubud (4 nights) => we did 5 nights
Sidemen (2 nights)
Amed (3 nights) => we’d planned 2 nights
Gili Meno (3 nights) => we did Gili between Sidemen and Amed
Munduk (3 nights) => we did 2 nights before Pemuteran
Pemuteran (3 nights) with Ijen => we did 4 nights
Sanur (2 nights + 1 last night) => we chose Jatiluwih instead of Sanur
It suggested "activities" (and accommodations too):
IN UBUD:
- Walk around central Ubud (1–2h)
- Campuhan Ridge Walk
- Tegalalang Rice Terrace
- Tirta Empul
- Gunung Kawi
- Massage / market / slow café
IN SIDEMEN:
- Rice terrace hike (2–3h)
- Cooking class
IN AMED:
- Snorkeling
- Japanese Shipwreck
- Beach + relaxation
- Volcano sunset
ON GILI:
- Snorkeling at Gili Meno Turtle Point, Nest Underwater Statues
IN MUNDUK:
- Jungle & waterfall hike - Munduk Waterfall + Melanting Waterfall
- Loop: 3–4h (perfect for your level)
- Ulun Danu Bratan Temple
- Twin Lakes
IN PEMUTERAN
- Snorkeling: Menjangan Island
For Kawah Ijen, it detailed the day well:
👍 from Pemuteran = best possible option
12 PM: leave hotel (we left at 10 PM)
1 PM: ferry
3 PM: arrival in Java + transfer
11 PM: start ascent
2 AM–6 AM: volcano
Return to Bali around 11 AM–12 PM (we got back at 4 PM)
👍 still very intense, but doable with an agency
💰 ~80–120 €/person all-inclusive
IN SANUR:
- Relaxation
- Quiet beach
- Proximity to airport (30 min)"
I’ve kept the habit of blowing my nose in the sink and then washing my hands—a custom I picked up in India. Sometimes, non-travelers are shocked when they catch me in the act... 🤪
Also, when I run out of toilet paper, it doesn’t bother me—unless I’ve got company over... 🤪
Just got back from walking a friend’s dog (while they’re on vacation), wearing a djellaba and Tibetan boots... 😏😏😏 Oh, for sure, if I’d run into locals, I probably would’ve shocked them? 😏
Anyway, as long as I’m not spitting on the floor at a restaurant or squatting on the side of a highway with a water bottle in hand...
After taking a little trip around the world, I came back a few months ago with an idea in mind.
I mostly do diving, and I love observing animals in their natural habitat without disturbing them.
During the trip, I realized it was quite complicated to know where and when to see certain species.
For example:
where to dive with sharks or manta rays
where you might get a chance to swim with whales
I even discovered thresher sharks during my trip… I didn’t even know this species existed before, even though they’re incredible to see.
We spent a ton of time searching for info all over the place, especially on social media, without ever getting a clear picture.
So I started putting all this together on my own, in the form of a map, to make it easier to visualize where to go depending on the seasons.
I recently put a first version online (it’s called Fauneya).
There are probably mistakes, inconsistencies, or things to improve, and that’s partly why I’m posting here.
I’d really love to know how you all go about planning this kind of trip.
As part of my Master’s thesis, I’m currently conducting a public survey on a topic that concerns all of us when planning a trip: artificial intelligence and the role of human contact in travel planning.
These days, we’re using more and more digital tools to find ideas, compare options, and book trips... but is the role of human advisors still essential? At what moments? And for what types of trips?
The survey is anonymous and takes about 7 minutes.
It’s aimed at anyone who travels (or has traveled) for leisure, whether you plan everything yourself or go through an agency.
While browsing the forum to gather info for my upcoming trip to Thailand, I often see the terms "traveler," "great traveler," and also "tourist"—so what’s the nuance for you?
I've traveled quite a bit in Vietnam over the past few years—from the southern delta to bustling cities and even some small islands—but what really sticks with me is the north, the high mountains.
Up there, there's something different—maybe slower, more raw. The morning markets with ethnic groups, women in traditional clothes, the colors...
The stilt houses, kids following you and laughing for no reason, the terraced rice fields—it almost feels unreal at times, so vast and quiet, yet so human and simple.
You often hear that Sapa has become too touristy, and that's partly true, especially in the center. But as soon as you move a little farther away, everything changes quickly. The landscapes open up, encounters feel more natural, and you rediscover something truly authentic.
I think it's that contrast that struck me—the difference between what you imagine before going and what you actually discover when you take the time.
And you—what memory do you hold onto from Vietnam? A particular place that touched you more than others?
Hello,
We’re finalizing the plans for our upcoming trip to China in May 2025. The second-to-last stop will be in Zhangjiajie, where we’ve planned to stay for 2 full days before heading to Shanghai.
We’re traveling solo using local transport and have arranged to stay in the city of Zhangjiajie.
We’ve seen that there’s a lot to see:
Tianmen Mountain, the Grand Canyon and the glass bridge, Zhangjiajie National Park, and that the sites are quite far apart with fairly expensive entry fees.
We’re thinking of dedicating one day to the national park and the Grand Canyon (glass bridge) and one day to Tianmen Mountain.
But we’re not sure if this plan is realistic—any thoughts would be much appreciated!
I should be serving a warming drink to the participants in the discussion about gardens and parks that provide us with beautiful photos, I could mention the delicious buttery scent wafting from bakeries in the thread about returning to France, but my heart, its powerful pulse that nourishes my entire being, is elsewhere.
Dasht-e Lut, Yazd, Esfahan, Bam, Kerman, Qeshm, Hormuz—a melody, a prayer at the heart of desire.
A dream, an unattainable fantasy? No. Not anymore.
A very serious Italian travel agency is organizing this trip for 6 people this winter. I’m signed up, I’m going, I’m living. Maybe.
"But you’re completely crazy!!!!"
I know... I know that every civilization, every society has a vital need to create scapegoats to define and justify itself, pathetically. And Iran is one of them, top of the list. I laugh or sigh, and it doesn’t bother me.
But that unchanging red, deep red and garnet, so beautiful in itself, in all the Western chancelleries repeats, whispers, shouts: don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, you’re putting yourself in danger and we can’t do anything for you. You’ll be turned into mere bargaining chips, into arguments for endless negotiations. Fear must be instilled, its power absolutely preserved, no concessions made to the enemy. The information (how many French hostages, real or fake, compared to the number of travelers?) is always lacking.
Traveling becomes a merciless confrontation between desire, the vital pulse, and anxiety, its ghosts.
Hi everyone, here’s our itinerary. Arriving on the evening of December 13th. Departing on January 7th.
Thanks in advance for your tips and valuable feedback.
Manila – 1 night
Coron – 4 nights
Coron to El Nido cruise – 2 nights
El Nido – 4 nights
Port Barton – 5 nights
Flight from Puerto Princesa to Vigan
Vigan – 2 nights
Sagada – 2 nights
Banaue – 2 nights
Bagabag – 1 night
Manila – 1 night
I’ve only booked the flight to Manila and the Manila/Coron flight so far. Is it possible to book boat trips, accommodations, and the Puerto Princesa flight last-minute?
Really disappointed with Costa Rica! Pura vida? The scam of the century!
(Costa Rica pure emptiness).
The country where animals are free and people are in cages.
3 weeks in December in this country and never again. Imagine the trailer of a movie that seems interesting, and when you go see it, you realize it’s a flop and the best moments were in the trailer.
Well, that’s exactly how we felt with Costa Rica pure emptiness.
My wife and I have traveled quite a bit and didn’t expect to be so wrong about a place.
On the main routes, we visited:
San José
Alajuela
Limón, Cahuita, Puerto Viejo, Manzanillo (Caribbean side)
Jaco, Quepos, Manuel Antonio (Pacific side)
And a few short stops in intermediate towns.
Our dissatisfaction grew gradually like this:
When we arrived at the hotel, the taxi dropped us off on a small street in front of a white metal gate with ground-floor windows barred. We looked at it skeptically, but the sign matched.
He approached the gate, rang the bell, the buzzer sounded, and the door opened slightly. The hotel wasn’t bad for the price, a 10-minute walk from downtown, but with a "Fleury-Mérogis" vibe guaranteed.
So far, so good.
After showering and regaining our bearings, we headed downtown.
What started to unsettle us on the way was seeing houses with bars on the ground-floor windows and even on the second floor.
At first, we thought the hotel’s neighborhood wasn’t great.
Downtown San José:
It’s a generic city, not very exotic, with a pedestrian street and a small mercado where you can eat local food without frills. Very few tourists—if any—which let you blend in with the locals. We had lunch and struggled to make ourselves understood because, aside from one or two shops, English wasn’t spoken.
On the way back to the hotel, we took a different route, and while chatting and strolling, my wife pointed out a beautiful two-story white house completely barricaded like Fort Knox.
From that moment, we started noticing the facades of houses and buildings, and wow, it was creepy—most looked like prisons, some even with barbed wire.
Though put off, we told ourselves it was probably a big-city thing and the rest of the country couldn’t be like this.
So far, so good.
We relaxed at the hotel and had a drink at the bar. Night falls early, around 5:30 PM. By 7:30 PM, we headed back downtown for dinner. A bit unsettling for a capital—downtown was almost deserted, and aside from fast-food chains, very few restaurants were open, with hardly anyone on the streets.
Bars with security guards out front.
I won’t say we felt unsafe that night, but once it got dark, we realized the bars on the windows weren’t for nothing. First day in, and our impression was already mixed.
The next day, we explored the city and surroundings, and our feelings didn’t change.
So far, so good.
Off to Cahuita by bus—4 hours of travel.
The landscapes are very green but quickly become monotonous. The road runs alongside the forest and passes through a few towns and villages, and even in the countryside, there were just as many prison-like houses.
The bus dropped us off at Cahuita’s terminal station—only four of us got off. It’s a village, or rather, a small town. Cahuita is basically one straight road and a perpendicular one, and honestly, doubt started to creep in.
A few restaurants that add 13% tax and 10% service charge—so 23% extra. We dropped our stuff at the hotel and went to explore. In 20 minutes, we’d seen it all. We had lunch and planned to check out the famous park.
Entry is by donation—well, the "entry" is a joke. There’s a path along the forest by the sea, and that’s it.
Nothing’s going right anymore.
We thought it was a total scam, but since we hadn’t gone far, we decided to come back the next day to explore further.
We returned to the hotel, relaxed, and around 8:00 PM, we went out for dinner. Only two restaurants were open, and the streets were deserted.
Creepy!
The next day, we explored the so-called park more thoroughly and really got it.
A path along the forest by the sea—2 hours there and 2 hours back, where you see animals that feel like showing their faces.
A total joke—"all that for this?"
The beach was full of wood debris and coconut husks. We wondered if the photos online were edited because the sea, very rough, wasn’t the azure blue we’d seen in pictures.
But calling this a park is a joke—it’s like a new concept.
When we thought about the reviews online, we started to suspect that professionals with interests in the country were monitoring and countering any negative feedback that could harm their business.
Too bad we didn’t check the negative reviews beforehand—we did while we were there, and it helped. We wondered if we’d become too demanding after all our travels, but no—when something’s bad, it’s bad.
Manuel Antonio’s park is even more ridiculous—there’s a short path along the sea for about 500 meters, and then nothing. You have to climb through mud and hack your way through the forest. We ended up barefoot because the mud was up to our calves. All that to see a raccoon and a few parrots flying overhead.
We didn’t expect Noah’s Ark, but we’ve seen more animals in Bali, Mexico, and Thailand while visiting temples or just walking around than in these so-called parks!
Puerto Viejo, not far from Cahuita and supposedly livelier—well, it couldn’t be worse!
According to Lonely Planet, it had a Caribbean vibe and wild nights, but maybe that was a long time ago. The good reggae music playing everywhere isn’t enough.
In the evening, Puerto Viejo was a bit livelier than Cahuita, but that’s not saying much. Very few tourists—if any—no night market, just two or three shops open selling $20 T-shirts. Same vibe as San José.
No big deal—we enjoyed the beach and the sun, which was reliable.
Our itinerary was supposed to include Tortuguero Park, but after talking to other travelers who’d just been, we changed our minds, knowing we’d be visiting Manuel Antonio Park on the Pacific side.
To get back to the Pacific side, you have to take the bus and go through San José again—5 hours this time—then switch bus terminals and another 4.5 hours to Quepos.
A stopover town to get to Manuel Antonio’s beach and park!
A town just like the others we’d seen—deserted as soon as the sun sets, and not exactly bustling during the day either. (Where are all the tourists?)
Still as many bars on the windows and that feeling of being in the wrong place.
7 km later: Manuel Antonio beach and park.
The beach is very beautiful and quite large, but don’t expect turquoise blue water—the waves stir up the sand, giving the water a brownish color.
Along the beach, shops and restaurants for about 300 meters, and then nothing. At night, after sunset, the town shuts down too.
Manuel Antonio Park is highly praised for its wildlife, so we were eager to see it. When you express dissatisfaction with Cahuita or Manzanillo parks, the response is always, "But you should’ve gone to Monteverde or Manuel Antonio!" No matter what you do or say, they’ll tell you, "You should’ve gone there or here."
Back to our famous park—entry was about $16, and contrary to what we’d heard, it wasn’t crowded!
Guides at the entrance with spotting scopes offered their services for about $30.
The park: a mix of boardwalk and dirt paths through the forest, sometimes running alongside beautiful coves and beaches.
As soon as we entered, a crowd was taking photos of a deer eating leaves.
A little further on, a guide with a group of five stopped. The guide raised his arm and set up his spotting scope! He showed them, about 100 meters away, a hummingbird perched on a branch. Some, looking through the scope, exclaimed, "Oh my God! Amazing! Incredible!"
For a moment, we thought they’d discovered a unicorn or were in Jurassic Park and had just crossed paths with a T-Rex!
The concept is comical—looking at a bird or another animal through a spotting scope because it’s too far away. Isn’t that what TV is for?
For our part, we saw monkeys, ants, an armadillo, an iguana, and the backside of a sloth climbing a tree. Amazing, incredible!
We stayed a few days in Manuel Antonio to enjoy the beach, changing hotels often because prices varied wildly from one day to the next for shameful services. On top of that, they’d quote a price in dollars and convert it at their discretion—thieves!
Alajuela, a city near the airport, has a two-story mall and a local market downtown! No interest except its proximity to the airport.
What we liked:
The climate and, in hindsight, San José—the most authentic city we visited.
What we didn’t like, in addition to what we’ve already mentioned:
Costa Ricans aren’t very friendly or communicative. English is barely spoken, not even by doctors at Quepos Hospital, where my wife ended up with food poisoning (thanks, Google Translate). The widespread obesity among Costa Ricans, who eat like Americans. The insecurity. The eco-hipsters who leave their $150 lodges in minivans with guides to visit parks and other sites, then return to barricade themselves in their fortresses at nightfall (oh my God, amazing, incredible). The blue signs at the entrance of towns that accept this payment method: "We accept American Express." Parking lots that become paid just because a guy is watching your car. Prices displayed in dollars. The cost of living (hotels, restaurants, taxes). Landscapes that are too green and not flowery enough. Beaches—nothing exceptional. Pollution in cities where big American trucks rule. Sewage dumped directly into the sea. Aside from the jungle, there’s nothing to visit—no ruins, monuments, or anything worth seeing.
In short, my wife and I think the hype about this supposedly eco-friendly country is overrated. It’s just the trendy destination of the moment. There are much better, cheaper, and more authentic places.
In hindsight, we keep the good memories and our beautiful photos, but if we had to do it over...
Before signing off, a little message to those who don’t like hearing opinions different from theirs:
Well, some things aren’t up for debate. And to those who’d have us believe that in 3 weeks, we don’t have the right to criticize a country or express our feelings—how can you praise it in so little time? What a scam. Costa Rica is a money pit. Pura vida? Pure cosmic emptiness.
If you like spending your evenings barricaded in your cozy hotel after dark, this country is for you.
For everyone else: run!
Hello,
Since the war between Russia and Ukraine, nothing is simple anymore for traveling to Belarus due to sanctions.
No more direct flights from the EU to Minsk.
Driving is a huge hassle, especially crossing through Poland at the only open border in Brest—you can wait 2, 3, or even 4 days just to get through by car.
The least painful driving option is to come via Lithuania and cross at the only open border, with a minimum wait time of 8 hours, sometimes up to 20 hours or more!!
Controls are very strict and annoying on both the Lithuanian and Belarusian sides. Avoid bringing alcohol, food, or cigarettes—everything will end up in the trash, especially when leaving Belarus for Vilnius, where the Lithuanians are tough, even with EU citizens.
The joy I once knew when visiting my wife in Minsk is sadly over—it’s now a real ordeal.
The fastest solution is to fly. My wife travels to France by taking a bus to Kaunas in Lithuania, where you can catch a flight (though not daily) to Paris Beauvais or Charleroi in Belgium with Ryanair, for example.
For the return trip, it’s the same: a flight to Kaunas and then a direct bus from the airport to Minsk.
The bus crossing is quicker than driving—the 250 km journey, including border checks, takes about 6 to 8 hours for buses leaving Lithuania around midnight, but controls are still strict at the border.
The biggest challenge is finding flight schedules that align with the bus routes between the two countries, given the unpredictable border crossing times.
Now, my wife travels via Charleroi in Belgium (near Brussels), and you can take a train to Paris. Alternatively, you can fly into Beauvais and take a bus to Paris (Porte Maillot).
For those driving, note that EU insurance and assistance policies no longer work in Belarus or Russia. You’ll need to get local insurance, usually limited to third-party liability (I don’t think full coverage exists?), as well as mandatory medical insurance. This is available at the border.
You now have to pay highway tolls—no more BELTOLL boxes. Instead, you pay a flat fee for the duration of your stay. Stop at the first gas station after crossing from Lithuania to fill up on fuel and cigarettes.
From what I know, Lithuania bans carrying more than 60 € in cash, but there’s no limit for USD (though it’s capped at $10,000??).
With a Visa card, you can now withdraw 1,000 rubles per week (about 270 €)—two months ago, it was only 500 rubles!!
For now, you can still pay by card in shops and gas stations.
However, major retailers like KORONA (which may be Russian-owned??) no longer accept foreign Visa cards.
Unfortunately, the additional sanctions announced by the U.S. on August 5, 2025, against Russia—and possibly Belarus—aren’t promising for the future.
After 20 years of visiting Belarus, I’m truly saddened to see the joy of living in this country with my wonderful wife turn into such a bleak situation, all because of human folly.
Hi everyone!
I’m putting together our travel itinerary for Veneto at the end of April. And the more I look and research potential sites to visit, the more I find!
We’ll only be there for a week—my family and I—including 3 days in Venice. So we have to make some choices...
I plan to rent a car when we arrive in Venice and head straight to Bergamo, which would be our first stop. We’d leave the car at the airport when we return to Venice so we can explore the city at our leisure.
What do you think:
1 night in Bergamo (a 2h15 drive from Venice airport),
1 night in Garda,
1 night in Verona,
1 in Padua, and
3 in Venice—would that be doable?
Thanks in advance for your tips and experiences! :)
Now that the curtain has fallen on the past year, it’s time to see what’s happening around here.
It seems pretty quiet, but I’ll read more in detail later.
First, I need to tell you all an anecdote.
My eldest little girl, in her third year of law school, was really scared she wouldn’t pass the year.
I told her:
“Trust yourself, you’ve worked so hard, and worst case, if you fail, you’ll just redo the year.”
“But I don’t think I’ll make it—they changed the rules, and if I mess up even one unit, I have to start all over.”
I knew her grades weren’t exactly stellar, and with what I was about to say, I wasn’t taking much of a risk.
“Here’s the deal, sweetheart: if you pass, I promise I’ll take you to India, just the two of us.”
I have to admit, India is a country I’ve talked about so much to all my grandchildren that in their minds, it’s become a magical, mythical place (hmm).
July had barely begun when my phone rang, her name flashing on the screen.
“Mamido, I did it!”
My promise came rushing back—oh no, oh no, oh no!
“Congratulations, sweetheart!”
A little shyly, she said:
“Is the India trip still on?”
And me, replying:
“Of course it is!”
And that’s that—a promise is a promise, or you risk losing that precious trust that keeps hearts warm and at peace.
We’re leaving in February. Only 8 days—yikes, the carbon footprint!
But we can’t miss her tutorials, or she’ll be kicked out.
Personally, that works just fine for me.
Going to India has become a challenge for me. It’s far, it’s exhausting, I sweat, I hate mosquitoes, the spices bother my mouth when I used to love them. There’s noise all the time—at night, the dogs bark nonstop, and we almost get run over. I’ll get lost in the streets because my sense of direction has vanished. I don’t like rice anymore. All that chaos and those cultural differences that once enchanted me now just overwhelm me.
But I promised.
The upside—and it’s a big one—Raman, the same driver I’ve had forever, will be at the airport with a sign with our names. We’ll stop at the same little shop for chai (or tea, plain and simple) with that aroma that intoxicates me, halfway through the trip.
It’ll be a tiny trip—staying with friends, I’ll show her a few places I love: Chidambaram, Mamallapuram, and the clinic where I worked. Then we’ll head back.
My little girl will go home to her parents.
As for me, I’ll leave right away for our Scottish island with Homme for our chilly winter.
How can you love a country so much you want to live there, then suddenly reject it, no longer able to appreciate what once made it special?
That’s the mystery of love, I guess.
I’ve visited the U.S. four times myself, including two long road trips. The last one was just this past August...
I won’t be going back. I already felt guilty last August, but recent policies have finally convinced me: the humiliation of Zelensky, authoritarian excesses, Gestapo-like methods for detaining people of foreign origin, the murder of innocent people (a mother shot dead), corruption, insane "tariffs," skyrocketing healthcare costs for Americans, the abduction of foreign figures to secure oil, the requirement to disclose social media accounts, and now... threats and blackmail to forcibly take Greenland—a region that belongs to Denmark and thus the European Union!
The reality is that simply posting this could get me denied entry to the U.S.!
In this context, I just can’t keep spending money there. I loved my trips, but there are so many other countries with stunning landscapes to explore.
So I get why you’d want to travel there. I did, and I loved it. But once a country no longer respects any of the values that made us love it, why go?
How can we even consider traveling to a country that threatens to take one of our territories by force?
Hello everyone,
Controversial topic? Not necessarily—maybe just a reflection on a world to come.
I spent the last 15 days of August on a cruise in Greenland, from Kangerlussuaq to Tasiilaq.
I was utterly amazed by this unique world of rock and ice, the little houses in every color, a simple life that’s also complicated by isolation and climate, among other things...
I carry in my heart the kindness of the people I met, the raw and gentle majesty of the icebergs, the colors of the sky...
So, I can’t even imagine a massive presence of raw material prospectors, heavy machinery requiring roads to be built—if that’s even possible—changing their way of life... putting sled dogs out to pasture!
Do fast food and Greenland’s northern lights really mix?
I wouldn’t trade my memories for an ESTA!
All opinions are respectable, which is why this isn’t a controversy—but I’m sorry, I have a soft spot for *my* Greenland.
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