Cinq semaines en bus en Colombie
by GeorgesOZ
This discussion is in French, the community’s main language.
Content que tu sois parmi mes lecteurs/lectrices. Je me sens parfois un peu seul, peu d'affichages, pas beaucoup de réactions. J'avais l'habitude des discussions dans la rubrique "Thaïlande" où la participation est autrement plus énergique .... parfois trop!
Bonsoir,
Je revois avec plaisir certains lieux que nous avons visités lors de notre voyage en Colombie et en découvre d’autres avec autant de plaisir. Merci pour ce carnet.
Je revois avec plaisir certains lieux que nous avons visités lors de notre voyage en Colombie et en découvre d’autres avec autant de plaisir. Merci pour ce carnet.
Bluequark
Carnets : Namibie, Laos-Perhentias-BKK, Ouest US, Lanzarote, New-York, Berlin, Cuba, Bardenas Reales, AFS -Lesotho-Swaziland, Japon et le dernier né Colombie: https://voyageforum.com/discussion/ete-2017-trois-semaines-en-colmobie-en-famille-d10108246/
Carnets : Namibie, Laos-Perhentias-BKK, Ouest US, Lanzarote, New-York, Berlin, Cuba, Bardenas Reales, AFS -Lesotho-Swaziland, Japon et le dernier né Colombie: https://voyageforum.com/discussion/ete-2017-trois-semaines-en-colmobie-en-famille-d10108246/
Aguadas - Caballeros
Le soir, dîner pour 42,000 COP à deux – 11.6 Euros. Pour finir la soirée, nous allons jouer au billard sur la place Bolívar. Perchée dans une niche juste à côté de nous, la statue de la Vierge Marie veille sur la salle. Cela fait pendant aux deux femmes debout dans le coin opposé de la salle, auxquelles on n’aurait pas besoin de coller l’étiquette « prostituée ». Ce mariage contradictoire impressionne A qui meurt d’envie de prendre quelques photos, mais la disposition des lieux ne le permet pas.
La partie + 2 verres de rhum, le « viejo Caldas », ça nous revient à 10,700 COP – 2.9 Euros. Je continue à donner ces petites informations budgétaires, au cas où cela intéresserait un/une lecteur/lectrice. C’est clair, nous ne fréquentons pas de restaurants de haute renommée gastronomique – il n’y en a pas - mais ne croyez surtout pas que nous restons affamés !
Il pleut à trombes pendant la nuit. Vers 9 heures du matin, les brumes sont encore à se dissiper dans la ville. Nous prenons un petit déjeuner simple dans un café de la place Bolívar, œufs sur le plat et « tinto » - 10,000 COP à deux.
Nous n’avons aujourd’hui aucun autre projet que de flâner dans la ville. Il n’y a pas besoin d’aller loin pour confirmer que nous sommes dans la Colombie profonde. Au coin de la rue, par exemple, ce type en poncho et sombrero, gueule renfrognée et belle moustache bien noire, une autre superbe photo à prendre, mais que nous ne prenons pas.
Mais assis à l’entrée d’un autre café de la place, un homme assez jeune en poncho + sombrero me paraît bien sympathique et cette fois, je prends la photo. Des figures de ce genre, ça abonde, nous sommes au pays des cowboys !
Le soleil devient rapidement plus franc et il fait bien bon sur la place, où nous ne sommes pas les seuls à flâner. La pièce magistrale, comme à Salamina, c’est une fontaine monumentale. On nous a raconté l’histoire : au tournant du dernier siècle – à quelques dizaines d’années près –la fontaine aurait été conçue en France, fabriquée en Allemagne, transportée par voies maritime puis fluviale et enfin acheminée à dos de mules à travers les montagnes – en pièces détachées bien sûr, pauvres mules – pour être enfin assemblée sur la place Bolívar. Je ne me rappelle plus si c’est l’histoire de la fontaine d’Aguadas ou de Salamina….
Au coin de la place, un homme bien habillé nous accroche. C’est l’officiel de « la oficina de turismo ». Rappel : les policiers nous avaient presque donné l’ordre de le consulter, ordre que nous avions décidé d’ignorer. L’homme est sympathique mais un peu pressant, » il faut visiter ceci, il faut se rendre là-bas », etc. La pression des policiers, l’empressement de cet homme : il semble que cette ville s’est fixé un objectif de visibilité touristique. L’homme nous fait le décompte de tous les étrangers qui sont passés par Aguadas cette année. Avec nous, il en est à 60 et quelques. Il est fier de cet afflux - !!! - et nous ne sommes encore qu’aux deux tiers de l’année. Si seulement un car de 60 touristes Japonais pouvait débarquer, ça améliorerait les statistiques ! …… Non, non, c’est moi qui en rajoute, là !
En fin d’après-midi, nous nous retrouvons à la sortie d’Aguadas. Un homme peine à transporter des meubles d’une pièce à l’autre de sa maison. Mon fils A, qui est d’une gentillesse proverbiale mais aussi un costaud, lui prête main. Ayant ainsi brisé la glace avec la famille, je peux prendre quelques photos. La maison est spectaculairement accrochée à flanc de montagne. J’en ai même peur pour A qui est en train de porter des objets lourds à l’intérieur de la maison. Il suffirait de peu pour que ça dégringole de quelques centaines de mètres. On entend régulièrement parler de glissements de terrain désastreux en Colombie…… Il semble que les moyens modestes de beaucoup de gens les contraint à se loger précairement. Ça, plus une insouciance naturelle. Les jeunes femmes de la maison sont toutes sourires.
Au départ de la route vers Medellin, un café très humble nous glisse à l’oreille ces mots magiques : « bière fraîche ». Le seul autre client est un homme en habit de travail, un mécanicien ? Avec sa touche extra et les couleurs éblouissantes de fin d’après-midi – le café est inondé de lumière – nous ne pouvons pas résister à la tentation de prendre quelques photos.
Cataclop, cataclop, un homme passe à cheval devant le café, avec son train de mules. Plusieurs fois déjà j’ai u la frustration de ne pas pouvoir prendre cette photo tellement « carte postale » de la Colombie profonde. Je cours pour le rattraper, j’ai juste quelques secondes. Ça va plus vite qu’on ne le penserait, un homme à cheval au pas ! Mais cette fois, j’ai ma photo : un « arriero » typique, poncho sur l’épaule et sombrero sur la tête !
Le soir, dîner pour 42,000 COP à deux – 11.6 Euros. Pour finir la soirée, nous allons jouer au billard sur la place Bolívar. Perchée dans une niche juste à côté de nous, la statue de la Vierge Marie veille sur la salle. Cela fait pendant aux deux femmes debout dans le coin opposé de la salle, auxquelles on n’aurait pas besoin de coller l’étiquette « prostituée ». Ce mariage contradictoire impressionne A qui meurt d’envie de prendre quelques photos, mais la disposition des lieux ne le permet pas.
La partie + 2 verres de rhum, le « viejo Caldas », ça nous revient à 10,700 COP – 2.9 Euros. Je continue à donner ces petites informations budgétaires, au cas où cela intéresserait un/une lecteur/lectrice. C’est clair, nous ne fréquentons pas de restaurants de haute renommée gastronomique – il n’y en a pas - mais ne croyez surtout pas que nous restons affamés !
Il pleut à trombes pendant la nuit. Vers 9 heures du matin, les brumes sont encore à se dissiper dans la ville. Nous prenons un petit déjeuner simple dans un café de la place Bolívar, œufs sur le plat et « tinto » - 10,000 COP à deux.
Nous n’avons aujourd’hui aucun autre projet que de flâner dans la ville. Il n’y a pas besoin d’aller loin pour confirmer que nous sommes dans la Colombie profonde. Au coin de la rue, par exemple, ce type en poncho et sombrero, gueule renfrognée et belle moustache bien noire, une autre superbe photo à prendre, mais que nous ne prenons pas.
Mais assis à l’entrée d’un autre café de la place, un homme assez jeune en poncho + sombrero me paraît bien sympathique et cette fois, je prends la photo. Des figures de ce genre, ça abonde, nous sommes au pays des cowboys !
Le soleil devient rapidement plus franc et il fait bien bon sur la place, où nous ne sommes pas les seuls à flâner. La pièce magistrale, comme à Salamina, c’est une fontaine monumentale. On nous a raconté l’histoire : au tournant du dernier siècle – à quelques dizaines d’années près –la fontaine aurait été conçue en France, fabriquée en Allemagne, transportée par voies maritime puis fluviale et enfin acheminée à dos de mules à travers les montagnes – en pièces détachées bien sûr, pauvres mules – pour être enfin assemblée sur la place Bolívar. Je ne me rappelle plus si c’est l’histoire de la fontaine d’Aguadas ou de Salamina….
Au coin de la place, un homme bien habillé nous accroche. C’est l’officiel de « la oficina de turismo ». Rappel : les policiers nous avaient presque donné l’ordre de le consulter, ordre que nous avions décidé d’ignorer. L’homme est sympathique mais un peu pressant, » il faut visiter ceci, il faut se rendre là-bas », etc. La pression des policiers, l’empressement de cet homme : il semble que cette ville s’est fixé un objectif de visibilité touristique. L’homme nous fait le décompte de tous les étrangers qui sont passés par Aguadas cette année. Avec nous, il en est à 60 et quelques. Il est fier de cet afflux - !!! - et nous ne sommes encore qu’aux deux tiers de l’année. Si seulement un car de 60 touristes Japonais pouvait débarquer, ça améliorerait les statistiques ! …… Non, non, c’est moi qui en rajoute, là !
En fin d’après-midi, nous nous retrouvons à la sortie d’Aguadas. Un homme peine à transporter des meubles d’une pièce à l’autre de sa maison. Mon fils A, qui est d’une gentillesse proverbiale mais aussi un costaud, lui prête main. Ayant ainsi brisé la glace avec la famille, je peux prendre quelques photos. La maison est spectaculairement accrochée à flanc de montagne. J’en ai même peur pour A qui est en train de porter des objets lourds à l’intérieur de la maison. Il suffirait de peu pour que ça dégringole de quelques centaines de mètres. On entend régulièrement parler de glissements de terrain désastreux en Colombie…… Il semble que les moyens modestes de beaucoup de gens les contraint à se loger précairement. Ça, plus une insouciance naturelle. Les jeunes femmes de la maison sont toutes sourires.
Au départ de la route vers Medellin, un café très humble nous glisse à l’oreille ces mots magiques : « bière fraîche ». Le seul autre client est un homme en habit de travail, un mécanicien ? Avec sa touche extra et les couleurs éblouissantes de fin d’après-midi – le café est inondé de lumière – nous ne pouvons pas résister à la tentation de prendre quelques photos.
Cataclop, cataclop, un homme passe à cheval devant le café, avec son train de mules. Plusieurs fois déjà j’ai u la frustration de ne pas pouvoir prendre cette photo tellement « carte postale » de la Colombie profonde. Je cours pour le rattraper, j’ai juste quelques secondes. Ça va plus vite qu’on ne le penserait, un homme à cheval au pas ! Mais cette fois, j’ai ma photo : un « arriero » typique, poncho sur l’épaule et sombrero sur la tête !
Content que tu sois parmi mes lecteurs/lectrices. Je me sens parfois un peu seul, peu d'affichages, pas beaucoup de réactions. J'avais l'habitude des discussions dans la rubrique "Thaïlande" où la participation est autrement plus énergique .... parfois trop!
Bonjour Peut-être est-ce tout simplement parce que le tourisme en Colombie n'est pas aussi développé qu'en Thailande (euphémisme, je pense) 🙂 C'est vrai que le forum Colombie est calme et courtois, mais que c'est reposant par rapport à d'autres destinations ....et pourvu que ça dure. Cordialement
Bonjour Peut-être est-ce tout simplement parce que le tourisme en Colombie n'est pas aussi développé qu'en Thailande (euphémisme, je pense) 🙂 C'est vrai que le forum Colombie est calme et courtois, mais que c'est reposant par rapport à d'autres destinations ....et pourvu que ça dure. Cordialement
"calme et courtois .... reposant ... pourvu que ça dure"
Je suis bien d'accord!
Je suis bien d'accord!
D’Aguadas à Medellin - Rencontre
Le minibus Arauca part d’Aguadas à 10 : 30. Coût du trajet Aguadas – Medellin 28,000 COP pp, soit un peu moins de 8 Euros, pour une distance de 120 kms. Le minibus part dans quelques minutes, j’ai juste le temps d’entrer dans un café pour demander les « baños ». N’oublions pas qu’il n’y a jamais de toilettes dans ces petits moyens de transport. Le patron me montre du doigt la pissotière pour les hommes, au fond. On se retrouve à faire ses besoins naturels le dos tourné à la salle mais à peine caché par une petite murette. Je donne ces détails car c’est un arrangement qu’on trouve fréquemment en Colombie. A ceux qui trouveront ça sordide, je dirai d’aller voir si c’est mieux en Inde !
Comme d’habitude, je n’ai rien à reprocher à notre conducteur, ni aux autres usagers de la route. Je trouve que les gens roulent correctement. Mais la route est difficile jusqu’à La Pintada, où nous arrivons 2 heures plus tard : 2 heures pour faire 45 kms !
Au fond du bus, le cousin Colombien de El Chapo est assoupi contre l’autre fenêtre. La grosse femme assise devant nous est toute sourires et se retourne pour engager une discussion avec A. Elle a des dents comme un clavier de piano et une verrue sur la joue gauche. Elle se rend à son travail, dit-elle. Quel travail ? Elle souffle à l’oreille de A « soy una puta ». Elle travaille dans un bordel à La Pintada. Elle doit être la gérante parce qu’elle nous précise qu’elle a des « niñas guapas ».
Notre nouvelle amie se lève pour prendre une meilleure place qui vient de se libérer à l’avant du bus. Elle se penche pour ramasser ses affaires, ce qui nous donne la chance d’admirer sa large chute de reins couverte d’un duvet abondant et bien noir ponctué par un furoncle sanguinolent. La classe, les amis !
Avant de descendre du bus, elle se retourne une dernière fois pour donner son numéro de portable à A, qui le prend pour rester courtois - n’allez surtout pas vous faire des idées ! Mais cela m’a donné un bon thème pour taquiner A par la suite : « Alors, tu n’as pas encore recontacté Diana, ou était-ce Liana ? Elle ne t’avait pas aussi recommandé une tante ou une nièce à Medellin ? » etc.
Cette rencontre « intéressante » - A comme moi-même, nous aimons découvrir l’humanité – nous a fait un peu oublier les paysages en route. Mais lesdits paysages sont magnifiques jusqu’aux abords urbains de Medellin, où nous arrivons vers 15 :30. Moyenne de 25 kms par heure.
Le minibus Arauca part d’Aguadas à 10 : 30. Coût du trajet Aguadas – Medellin 28,000 COP pp, soit un peu moins de 8 Euros, pour une distance de 120 kms. Le minibus part dans quelques minutes, j’ai juste le temps d’entrer dans un café pour demander les « baños ». N’oublions pas qu’il n’y a jamais de toilettes dans ces petits moyens de transport. Le patron me montre du doigt la pissotière pour les hommes, au fond. On se retrouve à faire ses besoins naturels le dos tourné à la salle mais à peine caché par une petite murette. Je donne ces détails car c’est un arrangement qu’on trouve fréquemment en Colombie. A ceux qui trouveront ça sordide, je dirai d’aller voir si c’est mieux en Inde !
Comme d’habitude, je n’ai rien à reprocher à notre conducteur, ni aux autres usagers de la route. Je trouve que les gens roulent correctement. Mais la route est difficile jusqu’à La Pintada, où nous arrivons 2 heures plus tard : 2 heures pour faire 45 kms !
Au fond du bus, le cousin Colombien de El Chapo est assoupi contre l’autre fenêtre. La grosse femme assise devant nous est toute sourires et se retourne pour engager une discussion avec A. Elle a des dents comme un clavier de piano et une verrue sur la joue gauche. Elle se rend à son travail, dit-elle. Quel travail ? Elle souffle à l’oreille de A « soy una puta ». Elle travaille dans un bordel à La Pintada. Elle doit être la gérante parce qu’elle nous précise qu’elle a des « niñas guapas ».
Notre nouvelle amie se lève pour prendre une meilleure place qui vient de se libérer à l’avant du bus. Elle se penche pour ramasser ses affaires, ce qui nous donne la chance d’admirer sa large chute de reins couverte d’un duvet abondant et bien noir ponctué par un furoncle sanguinolent. La classe, les amis !
Avant de descendre du bus, elle se retourne une dernière fois pour donner son numéro de portable à A, qui le prend pour rester courtois - n’allez surtout pas vous faire des idées ! Mais cela m’a donné un bon thème pour taquiner A par la suite : « Alors, tu n’as pas encore recontacté Diana, ou était-ce Liana ? Elle ne t’avait pas aussi recommandé une tante ou une nièce à Medellin ? » etc.
Cette rencontre « intéressante » - A comme moi-même, nous aimons découvrir l’humanité – nous a fait un peu oublier les paysages en route. Mais lesdits paysages sont magnifiques jusqu’aux abords urbains de Medellin, où nous arrivons vers 15 :30. Moyenne de 25 kms par heure.
Pour vous rassurer et vous remercier de ce récit très différent, il était temps de vous dire que je vous suis moi aussi depuis le début du voyage et que je suis confuse de ne pas l'avoir écrit.
En pleins préparatifs de notre départ, pour un circuit plus classique et beaucoup moins "routard", j'apprécie d'autant plus votre approche décalée et sensible qu'elle permet de profiter indirectement de lieux et de rencontres moins accessibles aux touristes lambda. Merci. Annie
Pour vous rassurer et vous remercier de ce récit très différent, il était temps de vous dire que je vous suis moi aussi depuis le début du voyage et que je suis confuse de ne pas l'avoir écrit.
En pleins préparatifs de notre départ, pour un circuit plus classique et beaucoup moins "routard", j'apprécie d'autant plus votre approche décalée et sensible qu'elle permet de profiter indirectement de lieux et de rencontres moins accessibles aux touristes lambda. Merci. Annie
Bonjour Annie,
C'est en tout cas très gentil de te manifester. C'est un plaisir et c'est rassurant de savoir qu'il y a des gens intéressés par ce qu'on écrit.
"récit très différent" .... "approche décalée et sensible" - Il y a bien plusieurs façons sensées de voyager, à chacun son style, sans avoir à se sentir "touriste lambda". Un ingrédient essentiel, je pense, est de ne pas avoir peur d'aller voir un peu plus loin que les brochures ou les programmes tout faits. Il n'y a pas à avoir peur dans un pays où les gens sont aussi gentils qu'en Colombie... mais c'est sûr il ne faut pas être trop insouciant non plus. Tout un chacun saura ses limites!
Bonjour Annie,
C'est en tout cas très gentil de te manifester. C'est un plaisir et c'est rassurant de savoir qu'il y a des gens intéressés par ce qu'on écrit.
"récit très différent" .... "approche décalée et sensible" - Il y a bien plusieurs façons sensées de voyager, à chacun son style, sans avoir à se sentir "touriste lambda". Un ingrédient essentiel, je pense, est de ne pas avoir peur d'aller voir un peu plus loin que les brochures ou les programmes tout faits. Il n'y a pas à avoir peur dans un pays où les gens sont aussi gentils qu'en Colombie... mais c'est sûr il ne faut pas être trop insouciant non plus. Tout un chacun saura ses limites!
C'est sûr il ne faut pas avoir peur en Colombie. A condition de ne pas faire n'importe quoi bien sûr mais c'est vrai partout.
Jamais du coup nous ne nous sommes sentis en insécurité. Et bien au contraire dans certains endroits comme Jardin.
Ton carnet est sympa alors continue !
Ph.
Voyager ajoute à sa vie (proverbe berbère)
Merci Philippe!
Arrivée à Medellin
Nous arrivons au terminal routier sud de Medellin, tout près de l’aéroport domestique Olaya Herrera. C’est un complexe impressionnant, il y a 2 ou 3 étages, des magasins, des restaurants. Il nous faut quelques temps pour trouver les taxis. Ce qu’il y a de bien avec ce terminal, comme d’ailleurs avec l’autre terminal situé au nord de la ville, c’est que nous nous trouvons en pleine ville et il n’y a pas de distances énormes à parcourir pour se rendre à son hôtel. Je pense ici au terminal de Barranquilla et, pire encore, au terminal Quitumbe de Quito – une horreur perdue loin au sud de la ville.
Mais j’anticipe. Revenons à Medellin. Nous voici dans le taxi. Nous n’avons pas fait 1 km qu’une voiture de police nous arrête. Les deux policiers nous alignent les mains posées sur le taxi et nous soumettent à ce qu’on appelle pudiquement une « palpation de sécurité ». Ce sont des pros, leurs doigts cherchent avec insistance mais restent toutefois à 1 mm des « parties sensibles ». Bien sûr, nous n’avons rien à nous reprocher et ils nous laissent repartir. Je suis quand même étonné qu’ils n’aient pas fouillé nos bagages.
Je n’ai pas le moindre doute que des policiers en civil nous ait repérés comme personnes « douteuses » alors que nous cherchions notre chemin dans le terminal routier. Qu’est-ce qu’ils cherchaient ? De la drogue sans le moindre doute. J’ai cru comprendre, au fil de notre voyage, qu’il y a un effort sérieux pour mettre un frein à un certain mode de tourisme en Colombie.
Cela n’a été qu’une interruption bizarre. Nous arrivons assez vite à notre hôtel, du coté sud du district de Laureles. Petit hôtel sympathique, prix doux, rue tranquille joliment ombragée, et il fait un temps printanier – nous sommes de bonne humeur.
Le soir, nous nous baladons le long de la carrera 70, celle qui va jusque à la station de métro Estadio. C’est un quartier très animé, il y a des restaurants tout le long. Pas un étranger à l’horizon, c’est 100% Colombien. Nous nous installons à l’extérieur de « La Tienda de la 70 », un restaurant tout à fait correct sans être luxueux, et nous commandons …. Allez, devinez ! ….. une « bandeja paisa ». C’est ce qu’il nous fallait pour, nous n’avions pas beaucoup mangé depuis le matin.
Je mets la jpeg de ce monument érigé par la Colombie au nom de la gastronomie internationale. Non, non, je n’exagère pas, j’ai lu il n’y a pas si longtemps que ça que la « bandeja paisa » est maintenant reconnue au niveau planétaire comme un mets-phare. Vous reconnaîtrez la saucisse, le boudin, l’avocat, l’»arepa », le riz blanc couronné d’un œuf sur le plat, un énorme morceau de porc grillé – c’est assez de la couenne, je ne sais pas comment on appelle ça – du riz brun, si je me rappelle bien, et sur le côté une « cazuela » de « fríjoles » - des fayots. Le tout agrémenté de sauce et arrosé de « Club Dorada ».
C’était parfait, quoique je dois dire que l’»arepa », cette espèce de galette de maïs qu’on se voit servir systématiquement en Colombie, ne figure pas parmi mes expériences inoubliables.
Nous arrivons au terminal routier sud de Medellin, tout près de l’aéroport domestique Olaya Herrera. C’est un complexe impressionnant, il y a 2 ou 3 étages, des magasins, des restaurants. Il nous faut quelques temps pour trouver les taxis. Ce qu’il y a de bien avec ce terminal, comme d’ailleurs avec l’autre terminal situé au nord de la ville, c’est que nous nous trouvons en pleine ville et il n’y a pas de distances énormes à parcourir pour se rendre à son hôtel. Je pense ici au terminal de Barranquilla et, pire encore, au terminal Quitumbe de Quito – une horreur perdue loin au sud de la ville.
Mais j’anticipe. Revenons à Medellin. Nous voici dans le taxi. Nous n’avons pas fait 1 km qu’une voiture de police nous arrête. Les deux policiers nous alignent les mains posées sur le taxi et nous soumettent à ce qu’on appelle pudiquement une « palpation de sécurité ». Ce sont des pros, leurs doigts cherchent avec insistance mais restent toutefois à 1 mm des « parties sensibles ». Bien sûr, nous n’avons rien à nous reprocher et ils nous laissent repartir. Je suis quand même étonné qu’ils n’aient pas fouillé nos bagages.
Je n’ai pas le moindre doute que des policiers en civil nous ait repérés comme personnes « douteuses » alors que nous cherchions notre chemin dans le terminal routier. Qu’est-ce qu’ils cherchaient ? De la drogue sans le moindre doute. J’ai cru comprendre, au fil de notre voyage, qu’il y a un effort sérieux pour mettre un frein à un certain mode de tourisme en Colombie.
Cela n’a été qu’une interruption bizarre. Nous arrivons assez vite à notre hôtel, du coté sud du district de Laureles. Petit hôtel sympathique, prix doux, rue tranquille joliment ombragée, et il fait un temps printanier – nous sommes de bonne humeur.
Le soir, nous nous baladons le long de la carrera 70, celle qui va jusque à la station de métro Estadio. C’est un quartier très animé, il y a des restaurants tout le long. Pas un étranger à l’horizon, c’est 100% Colombien. Nous nous installons à l’extérieur de « La Tienda de la 70 », un restaurant tout à fait correct sans être luxueux, et nous commandons …. Allez, devinez ! ….. une « bandeja paisa ». C’est ce qu’il nous fallait pour, nous n’avions pas beaucoup mangé depuis le matin.
Je mets la jpeg de ce monument érigé par la Colombie au nom de la gastronomie internationale. Non, non, je n’exagère pas, j’ai lu il n’y a pas si longtemps que ça que la « bandeja paisa » est maintenant reconnue au niveau planétaire comme un mets-phare. Vous reconnaîtrez la saucisse, le boudin, l’avocat, l’»arepa », le riz blanc couronné d’un œuf sur le plat, un énorme morceau de porc grillé – c’est assez de la couenne, je ne sais pas comment on appelle ça – du riz brun, si je me rappelle bien, et sur le côté une « cazuela » de « fríjoles » - des fayots. Le tout agrémenté de sauce et arrosé de « Club Dorada ».
C’était parfait, quoique je dois dire que l’»arepa », cette espèce de galette de maïs qu’on se voit servir systématiquement en Colombie, ne figure pas parmi mes expériences inoubliables.
Au secours! Pas de quoi paniquer finalement, car en écartant saucisse, boudin et couenne grillée, il reste de quoi se sustenter pour toute la journée! Que ceux qui ont des adresses végétariennes nous fassent signe, on pourrait peut-être y trouver quelques légumes verts!
Oui, je dois admettre, la Colombie ce n'est pas une grande destination pour végétariens! Même moi et mon fils qui aimons la viande, nous avons peiné par moments.
Mais il faut aussi que je rappelle que les soupes sont vraiment extras!. Souvent, on les sert automatiquement quand on commande autre chose. Sinon, ne pas hésiter à demander s'il n'y a pas une petite "sopita" au menu!
Oui, je dois admettre, la Colombie ce n'est pas une grande destination pour végétariens! Même moi et mon fils qui aimons la viande, nous avons peiné par moments.
Mais il faut aussi que je rappelle que les soupes sont vraiment extras!. Souvent, on les sert automatiquement quand on commande autre chose. Sinon, ne pas hésiter à demander s'il n'y a pas une petite "sopita" au menu!
Le menu du jour comprend quasi toujours une soupe, un plat (viande ou poisson) et une boisson.
Nous avons eu des soupes aux légumes, au fromage, aux pâtes, à la volaille (Avec des pattes, cous, foies et gesiers dedans, ...). Et à chaque fois délicieuses.
Prix du menu du jour : de 4500 cop le moins cher à 7000 ou 8000 les plus chers ( tout est relatif !).
Parmi les meilleurs, el buffet de la plazza à Carthagene et un restau près de la place à Jardin.
Ph.
Voyager ajoute à sa vie (proverbe berbère)
Merci, nous voilà rassurés, nous ne craignions pas d'être affamés, plutôt de ne pouvoir faire honneur à la cuisine locale et de froisser nos hôtes. Bonne idée, les soupes, même à la viande s'il le faut!
Puisque je suis en ligne, je continue à vous harceler de questions! Nos réservations d'hôtel, encore modifiables, comportent une nuit de trop! D'où la question:
- supprimer 1 jour prévu pour Guatapé ou Sta Fé, ou
- 1 nuit dans la région du café: nous avons 3 n. à Jardin, 2 n. à Salamina, 2 n. à Manizales et 2 à Salento, ou
- 1 nuit sur les 2 à Popayan, dont 1 après la route Salento-Popayan et 1 pour avoir toute une journée pour Popayan et Timbio.
Les autres jours sont fixés pour nous permettre d'arriver un mardi à Tierradentro en passant par Silvia le matin (nous serons en voiture). D'autre part, si nous arrivons à Tierradentro un mardi après-midi (jour de fermeture du site), nous ne pourrons pas acheter nos tickets et perdrons alors du temps le mercredi matin ou pas ? Nous réservons 2 n. à La Portada.
Vous aurez peut-être encore un conseil!
Bonjour Anne,
"arriver un mardi à Tierradentro en passant par Silvia le matin (nous serons en voiture). D'autre part, si nous arrivons à Tierradentro un mardi après-midi (jour de fermeture du site), nous ne pourrons pas acheter nos tickets et perdrons alors du temps le mercredi matin ou pas ? Nous réservons 2 n. à La Portada. Vous aurez peut-être encore un conseil!"
Sans vouloir "polluer" le post initial de GeorgesOZ ( j'attends la suite, j'aime bien!) juste une remarque:
La route qui mène de Silvia à San Andres de Pisimbala n'est pas terrible, en prenant votre temps pour la visite du marché à Silvia, vous arriverez forcément en soirée à la Portada.
Léonardo, le patron vous donnera les conseils pour le lendemain: il est possible d'acquitter le "passeporte" valable pour la totalité du parc au premier site visité ( Alto de San Andres, le plus proche de l'hospedaje la Portada).
Si tu préféres débuter la journée par la visite du musée et donc acheter le "passeporte" à la billetterie, ça ne prend pas beaucoup de temps, à Tierradentro c'est rarement la foule!
si tu le souhaites, ci dessous un article de mon blog sur notre séjour à Tierradentro...et à La Portada.
https://marie-alain.blog4ever.com/colombie-11-sur-les-sentiers-de-tierradentro
Cordialement, Alain
"arriver un mardi à Tierradentro en passant par Silvia le matin (nous serons en voiture). D'autre part, si nous arrivons à Tierradentro un mardi après-midi (jour de fermeture du site), nous ne pourrons pas acheter nos tickets et perdrons alors du temps le mercredi matin ou pas ? Nous réservons 2 n. à La Portada. Vous aurez peut-être encore un conseil!"
Sans vouloir "polluer" le post initial de GeorgesOZ ( j'attends la suite, j'aime bien!) juste une remarque:
La route qui mène de Silvia à San Andres de Pisimbala n'est pas terrible, en prenant votre temps pour la visite du marché à Silvia, vous arriverez forcément en soirée à la Portada.
Léonardo, le patron vous donnera les conseils pour le lendemain: il est possible d'acquitter le "passeporte" valable pour la totalité du parc au premier site visité ( Alto de San Andres, le plus proche de l'hospedaje la Portada).
Si tu préféres débuter la journée par la visite du musée et donc acheter le "passeporte" à la billetterie, ça ne prend pas beaucoup de temps, à Tierradentro c'est rarement la foule!
si tu le souhaites, ci dessous un article de mon blog sur notre séjour à Tierradentro...et à La Portada.
https://marie-alain.blog4ever.com/colombie-11-sur-les-sentiers-de-tierradentro
Cordialement, Alain
....... Puisque je suis en ligne, je continue à vous harceler de questions! Nos réservations d'hôtel, encore modifiables, comportent une nuit de trop! D'où la question:
- supprimer 1 jour prévu pour Guatapé ou Sta Fé, ou
- 1 nuit dans la région du café: nous avons 3 n. à Jardin, 2 n. à Salamina, 2 n. à Manizales et 2 à Salento, ou
- 1 nuit sur les 2 à Popayan, dont 1 après la route Salento-Popayan et 1 pour avoir toute une journée pour Popayan et Timbio.
Les autres jours sont fixés pour nous permettre d'arriver un mardi à Tierradentro en passant par Silvia le matin (nous serons en voiture).....
Je ne rajouterai rien au commentaire d'Alain sur la route de Silvia jusqu'à Tierradentro, n’ayant pas suivi cet itinéraire. Mais ne faire qu’une nuit à Popayan, arrivant de Salento et repartant le lendemain matin pour Silvia puis Tierradentro, c’est un peu la course. Et c’est dommage pour Popayan qui vaut bien d’y passer au moins une journée pleine. C’est l’une des petites villes les plus charmantes que nous ayons visitées.
C’est aussi à Popayan que nous avons eu l’un des repas de midi les moins chers – soupe, plat principal, jus de fruit – à 6000 pesos pp soit 1.7 Euros.
Je ne rajouterai rien au commentaire d'Alain sur la route de Silvia jusqu'à Tierradentro, n’ayant pas suivi cet itinéraire. Mais ne faire qu’une nuit à Popayan, arrivant de Salento et repartant le lendemain matin pour Silvia puis Tierradentro, c’est un peu la course. Et c’est dommage pour Popayan qui vaut bien d’y passer au moins une journée pleine. C’est l’une des petites villes les plus charmantes que nous ayons visitées.
C’est aussi à Popayan que nous avons eu l’un des repas de midi les moins chers – soupe, plat principal, jus de fruit – à 6000 pesos pp soit 1.7 Euros.
.... Prix du menu du jour : de 4500 cop le moins cher à 7000 ou 8000 les plus chers ( tout est relatif !).....
Prix des Repas
Sans douter de ton expérience, je crois opportun de commenter sur les prix. Il est sans aucun doute possible de manger pour quelques petits milliers de pesos. De mes notes écrites sur 5 bonnes semaines en Colombie, je vois nos repas de midi les moins chers à 6000 pesos et 6250 pesos par personne, à Popayan et San Agustin – 1.7 Euros.
Les repas les plus chers = dans les 10-12 Euros par personne : - Midi : 42,500 pesos à Cali et 35,500 à Barranquilla – 11.7 et 9.8 Euros. - Soir : 35,500 à Popayan et 42,500 à Medellin – 9.8 et 11.7 Euros
C’était bien entendu dans des restaurants un peu meilleurs que la moyenne, sans jamais donner dans le luxe, et avec 1 bière. De plus le restaurant à Popayan était dans le centre-ville et les prix reflétaient sans aucun doute le fait que la ville est très populaire, il y a beaucoup de touristes Colombiens aisés qui y viennent.
Prix des Repas
Sans douter de ton expérience, je crois opportun de commenter sur les prix. Il est sans aucun doute possible de manger pour quelques petits milliers de pesos. De mes notes écrites sur 5 bonnes semaines en Colombie, je vois nos repas de midi les moins chers à 6000 pesos et 6250 pesos par personne, à Popayan et San Agustin – 1.7 Euros.
Les repas les plus chers = dans les 10-12 Euros par personne : - Midi : 42,500 pesos à Cali et 35,500 à Barranquilla – 11.7 et 9.8 Euros. - Soir : 35,500 à Popayan et 42,500 à Medellin – 9.8 et 11.7 Euros
C’était bien entendu dans des restaurants un peu meilleurs que la moyenne, sans jamais donner dans le luxe, et avec 1 bière. De plus le restaurant à Popayan était dans le centre-ville et les prix reflétaient sans aucun doute le fait que la ville est très populaire, il y a beaucoup de touristes Colombiens aisés qui y viennent.
bonjour
Quel plaisir de te lire ...
Un aveux ton récit me donne l'envie de sauter dans l'avion pour refaire un tour en Colombie.
Sinon au niveau culinaire, je n'ai pas un souvenir inoubliable de la gastronomie locale (à part les soupes très bonnes) depuis mon retour j'ai une aversion prononcée pour les bananes (platanes ou pas).....🤪
Quel plaisir de te lire ...
Un aveux ton récit me donne l'envie de sauter dans l'avion pour refaire un tour en Colombie.
Sinon au niveau culinaire, je n'ai pas un souvenir inoubliable de la gastronomie locale (à part les soupes très bonnes) depuis mon retour j'ai une aversion prononcée pour les bananes (platanes ou pas).....🤪
Medellin – Festival des Fleurs
Nous sommes en période de festival. Il y a de l’animation dans plusieurs parties de la ville. Nous nous rendons à pied à l’Aeroparque Juan Pablo II » qui longe le côté ouest de l’aéroport Olaya Herrera. En début d’après-midi, c’est encore assez vide. Nous faisons un tour de reconnaissance et admirons en passant les quelques épaves d’avion massées au bord de la piste. Les envols d’appareils assez légers se succèdent et nous ne manquons pas de plaisanter sur les envois de « marchandise » vers les USA.
Entretemps, nous sommes maintenant en milieu d’après-midi. La foule a grossi. Un groupe d’animateurs représentant les personnages typiques du pays Paisa nous interpelle. Le maquillage des hommes comporte des gros sourcils bien noirs qui, réponse à notre question, sont censés être typiques des paysans Paisa. Une femme est déguisée en « arepa », cette galette de mais dont j’ai déjà parlé, et un/une autre animateur / trice est déguisée en avocat. Ce sont des éléments incontournables de la gastronomie Paisa. Bon, gastronomie, j’exagère un peu – pour les curieux, je renvoie à ma description de la « bandeja paisa » un peu plus haut.
Vous reconnaîtrez ces personnages sur la photo de groupe. Les hommes brandissent des machettes, pas des vraies bien sûr. Celui qui joue de la guitare au centre, c’est moi-même et vous m’excuserez de me masquer pour garder mon anonymat ! Je continue à porter mon « aguadeño », mon chapeau d’Aguadas. Est-ce à cause du festival ? Beaucoup de gens, même des femmes, portent ce genre de chapeau ici, et en ville, partout. Même un chien a été coiffé d’un « sombrero » pour l’occasion !
Il y a de la musique, des groupes jouant en live à plusieurs endroits, un concours de poésie Paisa improvisée par des enfants dans un théâtre en plein air, avec une chaude participation du public, tout à fait hilarant. Dans un enclos, plusieurs garçonnets habillés en « arrieros » défilent en menant des mules chargées de sacs censés être remplis de café. Les gens de Medellin sont de toute évidence très fiers de leur culture Paisa !
Ayant passé quelques heures bien divertissantes au Parque Juan Pablo II, nous arrêtons un taxi pour aller à la Plaza de Gardel, de l’autre côté de l’aéroport, 3 kms en voiture pour contourner l’aéroport alors qu’en ligne droite ça aurait été moins d’un km – mais on ne peut bien sûr pas franchir la piste d’envol.
A la Plaza Gardel, ou juste à côté, un amphithéâtre a été consacré à la musique d’inspiration Africaine. A l’entrée, une jeune Afro-Colombienne magnifique nous fait jaillir les yeux de la tête. A l’approche. Elle est modèle, lui dit-elle. Je ne sais pas à quel niveau de professionnalisme elle se situe, mais en tout cas elle se livre gentiment à une série de photos. J’observe de loin, je dois avouer que je suis presque jaloux de mon fils quand je le vois prendre note des détails personnels de la jeune femme. Allez, vieux cxx, tu sais bien qu’A envoie scrupuleusement ses photos aux gens qu’il a rencontrés !
L’amphithéâtre est bondé de monde dès le début de soirée. Un groupe venu de Calí nous sert de la musique Afro-Colombienne, chanteur, musiciens, danseuses, ça chauffe sérieux. C’est suivi par le groupe de gospel de Medellin. A part d’une femme, ce sont tous des blancs mais c’est franchement sensationnel.
Nous arrêtons un taxi dans la rue pour rentrer à l’hôtel. Je vois très bien le plan de la ville et je ne comprends pas pourquoi le taxi nous fait passer par les alentours du « Cerro de Nutibara », vers la station de métro Industriales je crois. Il y aurait eu une route bien plus directe. Peu importe, cela nous donne l’occasion de visiter, confortablement assis dans le taxi, quelques rues bien animées mais d’un genre beaucoup plus terre à terre que ce que nous avons vu jusqu’à présent. Pour le dire tout court, nous hésiterions à traîner nos savates dans ces parages, surtout le soir….
Nous sommes en période de festival. Il y a de l’animation dans plusieurs parties de la ville. Nous nous rendons à pied à l’Aeroparque Juan Pablo II » qui longe le côté ouest de l’aéroport Olaya Herrera. En début d’après-midi, c’est encore assez vide. Nous faisons un tour de reconnaissance et admirons en passant les quelques épaves d’avion massées au bord de la piste. Les envols d’appareils assez légers se succèdent et nous ne manquons pas de plaisanter sur les envois de « marchandise » vers les USA.
Entretemps, nous sommes maintenant en milieu d’après-midi. La foule a grossi. Un groupe d’animateurs représentant les personnages typiques du pays Paisa nous interpelle. Le maquillage des hommes comporte des gros sourcils bien noirs qui, réponse à notre question, sont censés être typiques des paysans Paisa. Une femme est déguisée en « arepa », cette galette de mais dont j’ai déjà parlé, et un/une autre animateur / trice est déguisée en avocat. Ce sont des éléments incontournables de la gastronomie Paisa. Bon, gastronomie, j’exagère un peu – pour les curieux, je renvoie à ma description de la « bandeja paisa » un peu plus haut.
Vous reconnaîtrez ces personnages sur la photo de groupe. Les hommes brandissent des machettes, pas des vraies bien sûr. Celui qui joue de la guitare au centre, c’est moi-même et vous m’excuserez de me masquer pour garder mon anonymat ! Je continue à porter mon « aguadeño », mon chapeau d’Aguadas. Est-ce à cause du festival ? Beaucoup de gens, même des femmes, portent ce genre de chapeau ici, et en ville, partout. Même un chien a été coiffé d’un « sombrero » pour l’occasion !
Il y a de la musique, des groupes jouant en live à plusieurs endroits, un concours de poésie Paisa improvisée par des enfants dans un théâtre en plein air, avec une chaude participation du public, tout à fait hilarant. Dans un enclos, plusieurs garçonnets habillés en « arrieros » défilent en menant des mules chargées de sacs censés être remplis de café. Les gens de Medellin sont de toute évidence très fiers de leur culture Paisa !
Ayant passé quelques heures bien divertissantes au Parque Juan Pablo II, nous arrêtons un taxi pour aller à la Plaza de Gardel, de l’autre côté de l’aéroport, 3 kms en voiture pour contourner l’aéroport alors qu’en ligne droite ça aurait été moins d’un km – mais on ne peut bien sûr pas franchir la piste d’envol.
A la Plaza Gardel, ou juste à côté, un amphithéâtre a été consacré à la musique d’inspiration Africaine. A l’entrée, une jeune Afro-Colombienne magnifique nous fait jaillir les yeux de la tête. A l’approche. Elle est modèle, lui dit-elle. Je ne sais pas à quel niveau de professionnalisme elle se situe, mais en tout cas elle se livre gentiment à une série de photos. J’observe de loin, je dois avouer que je suis presque jaloux de mon fils quand je le vois prendre note des détails personnels de la jeune femme. Allez, vieux cxx, tu sais bien qu’A envoie scrupuleusement ses photos aux gens qu’il a rencontrés !
L’amphithéâtre est bondé de monde dès le début de soirée. Un groupe venu de Calí nous sert de la musique Afro-Colombienne, chanteur, musiciens, danseuses, ça chauffe sérieux. C’est suivi par le groupe de gospel de Medellin. A part d’une femme, ce sont tous des blancs mais c’est franchement sensationnel.
Nous arrêtons un taxi dans la rue pour rentrer à l’hôtel. Je vois très bien le plan de la ville et je ne comprends pas pourquoi le taxi nous fait passer par les alentours du « Cerro de Nutibara », vers la station de métro Industriales je crois. Il y aurait eu une route bien plus directe. Peu importe, cela nous donne l’occasion de visiter, confortablement assis dans le taxi, quelques rues bien animées mais d’un genre beaucoup plus terre à terre que ce que nous avons vu jusqu’à présent. Pour le dire tout court, nous hésiterions à traîner nos savates dans ces parages, surtout le soir….
bonjour
Quel plaisir de te lire ...
Un aveux ton récit me donne l'envie de sauter dans l'avion pour refaire un tour en Colombie.
Sinon au niveau culinaire, je n'ai pas un souvenir inoubliable de la gastronomie locale (à part les soupes très bonnes) depuis mon retour j'ai une aversion prononcée pour les bananes (platanes ou pas).....🤪
Bonjour Sylvie,
Je suis ravi de l’entendre!
Je suis assez d’accord avec toi pour ce qui est de la nourriture en Colombie. La viande est excellente mais on finit vite par s’en lasser. On aimerait avoir plus de légumes, plus de plats vraiment cuisinés. Heureusement, il y a les soupes, nous sommes plusieurs à l’avoir remarqué.
Il se pourrait qu’il y ait beaucoup plus de variété dans la cuisine Colombienne mais que ca reste dans le domaine du privé. C’est le cas par exemple dans certains pays du Moyen Orient, en Iran par exemple – cuisine délicieuse, saine et variée à la maison, mais kebab / poulet à l’infini pour les voyageurs.
Quel plaisir de te lire ...
Un aveux ton récit me donne l'envie de sauter dans l'avion pour refaire un tour en Colombie.
Sinon au niveau culinaire, je n'ai pas un souvenir inoubliable de la gastronomie locale (à part les soupes très bonnes) depuis mon retour j'ai une aversion prononcée pour les bananes (platanes ou pas).....🤪
Bonjour Sylvie,
Je suis ravi de l’entendre!
Je suis assez d’accord avec toi pour ce qui est de la nourriture en Colombie. La viande est excellente mais on finit vite par s’en lasser. On aimerait avoir plus de légumes, plus de plats vraiment cuisinés. Heureusement, il y a les soupes, nous sommes plusieurs à l’avoir remarqué.
Il se pourrait qu’il y ait beaucoup plus de variété dans la cuisine Colombienne mais que ca reste dans le domaine du privé. C’est le cas par exemple dans certains pays du Moyen Orient, en Iran par exemple – cuisine délicieuse, saine et variée à la maison, mais kebab / poulet à l’infini pour les voyageurs.
Je ne connais pas l'Iran mais j'ai un souvenir de Jordanie où se fut poulet à tous les repas....
En Colombie, nous avons quand même fait une découverte et une folie à Medellin où nous avons trouvé un resto (fusion japonais-Amérique du Sud) délicieux mais ...très cher (au tarif moyen parisien on va dire....) ....nous avons été surpris car au cours de notre (court) séjour au Pérou nous avons trouvé la cuisine délicieuse et variée...Mais cet aspect culinaire n'est pas vraiment grave.... on trouve quand même à se nourrir correctement et c'est l'essentiel...car il y a tant d'autres plaisirs dans ce pays
En Colombie, nous avons quand même fait une découverte et une folie à Medellin où nous avons trouvé un resto (fusion japonais-Amérique du Sud) délicieux mais ...très cher (au tarif moyen parisien on va dire....) ....nous avons été surpris car au cours de notre (court) séjour au Pérou nous avons trouvé la cuisine délicieuse et variée...Mais cet aspect culinaire n'est pas vraiment grave.... on trouve quand même à se nourrir correctement et c'est l'essentiel...car il y a tant d'autres plaisirs dans ce pays
Même le chien ! Cela me rappelle les chiens "déguisés" aux couleurs de Boca junior et River Plate dans le quartier de La Boca à Buenos Aires
Même le chien ! Cela me rappelle les chiens "déguisés" aux couleurs de Boca junior et River Plate dans le quartier de La Boca à Buenos Aires
Une idée: qqn pourrait lancer une rubrique "animaux déguisés", je crois que ça n'a pas encore été fait 😉
Une idée: qqn pourrait lancer une rubrique "animaux déguisés", je crois que ça n'a pas encore été fait 😉
Bonjour Georges,
Merci infiniment pour ce récit de voyage. J’attends la suite avec impatience. Votre vision de la Colombie et des colombiens me touche d’autant plus que je suis marié à une santanderiana de Bucaramanga. J’adore ce pays que j’ai visité 3 fois déjà. Nous y avons passé toutes les fêtes de fin d’année en 2018. C’était enchanteur ! Mais je veux aussi le découvrir comme vos yeux et votre cœur l’ont vu. En juillet 2020, nous partons y vivre. Et je veux le parcourir comme vous l’avez fait avec votre fils. Si vous y revenez, nous vous y recevrons avec plaisir et chaleur. A la colombienne. Encore une fois merci de donner une telle image de ce pays merveilleux qui malheureusement fait encore trop peur. Au plaisir.
Merci infiniment pour ce récit de voyage. J’attends la suite avec impatience. Votre vision de la Colombie et des colombiens me touche d’autant plus que je suis marié à une santanderiana de Bucaramanga. J’adore ce pays que j’ai visité 3 fois déjà. Nous y avons passé toutes les fêtes de fin d’année en 2018. C’était enchanteur ! Mais je veux aussi le découvrir comme vos yeux et votre cœur l’ont vu. En juillet 2020, nous partons y vivre. Et je veux le parcourir comme vous l’avez fait avec votre fils. Si vous y revenez, nous vous y recevrons avec plaisir et chaleur. A la colombienne. Encore une fois merci de donner une telle image de ce pays merveilleux qui malheureusement fait encore trop peur. Au plaisir.
Elica & Serge
Bonjour Georges,
Je suis toujours ton carnet avec beaucoup de plaisir, mais il est vrai que je manque cruellement de temps en ce moment et qu'il m'est difficile de réagir à tes écris ... Mais continue ! merci
Je suis toujours ton carnet avec beaucoup de plaisir, mais il est vrai que je manque cruellement de temps en ce moment et qu'il m'est difficile de réagir à tes écris ... Mais continue ! merci
Bonjour Georges,
Je suis toujours ton carnet avec beaucoup de plaisir, mais il est vrai que je manque cruellement de temps en ce moment et qu'il m'est difficile de réagir à tes écris ... Mais continue ! merci
Bonjour Caro,
C’est gentil en tout cas de prendre quelques minutes de ton temps. Même quelques petits mots d’appréciation m’encouragent à continuer mon récit.
Je suis toujours ton carnet avec beaucoup de plaisir, mais il est vrai que je manque cruellement de temps en ce moment et qu'il m'est difficile de réagir à tes écris ... Mais continue ! merci
Bonjour Caro,
C’est gentil en tout cas de prendre quelques minutes de ton temps. Même quelques petits mots d’appréciation m’encouragent à continuer mon récit.
Bonjour Georges,
Merci infiniment pour ce récit de voyage. J’attends la suite avec impatience. Votre vision de la Colombie et des colombiens me touche d’autant plus que je suis marié à une santanderiana de Bucaramanga. J’adore ce pays que j’ai visité 3 fois déjà. Nous y avons passé toutes les fêtes de fin d’année en 2018. C’était enchanteur ! Mais je veux aussi le découvrir comme vos yeux et votre cœur l’ont vu. En juillet 2020, nous partons y vivre. Et je veux le parcourir comme vous l’avez fait avec votre fils. Si vous y revenez, nous vous y recevrons avec plaisir et chaleur. A la colombienne. Encore une fois merci de donner une telle image de ce pays merveilleux qui malheureusement fait encore trop peur. Au plaisir.
Bonjour Serge,
Comme je viens de l’écrire à Caro, quelques mots d’appréciation m’encouragent à continuer mon récit. Je te remercie donc – on peut se tutoyer, non ? Et merci aussi pour ton invitation de passer vous voir, toi et ton épouse, à Bucaramanga. Je ne suis pas passé par là-bas, il y a tellement de choses à voir en Colombie, mais ça fait partie de mes projets futurs. Alors qui sait ?
La Colombie est un pays merveilleux, sans le moindre doute. Les gens sont adorables et la nature est très belle. Mais c’est peut-être bien, de mon point de vue égoïste, qu’il « fasse encore trop peur ». J’ai particulièrement apprécié la fraîcheur et la spontanéité des gens, et le fait de ne pas avoir à me démener à travers une foule de touristes.
Merci infiniment pour ce récit de voyage. J’attends la suite avec impatience. Votre vision de la Colombie et des colombiens me touche d’autant plus que je suis marié à une santanderiana de Bucaramanga. J’adore ce pays que j’ai visité 3 fois déjà. Nous y avons passé toutes les fêtes de fin d’année en 2018. C’était enchanteur ! Mais je veux aussi le découvrir comme vos yeux et votre cœur l’ont vu. En juillet 2020, nous partons y vivre. Et je veux le parcourir comme vous l’avez fait avec votre fils. Si vous y revenez, nous vous y recevrons avec plaisir et chaleur. A la colombienne. Encore une fois merci de donner une telle image de ce pays merveilleux qui malheureusement fait encore trop peur. Au plaisir.
Bonjour Serge,
Comme je viens de l’écrire à Caro, quelques mots d’appréciation m’encouragent à continuer mon récit. Je te remercie donc – on peut se tutoyer, non ? Et merci aussi pour ton invitation de passer vous voir, toi et ton épouse, à Bucaramanga. Je ne suis pas passé par là-bas, il y a tellement de choses à voir en Colombie, mais ça fait partie de mes projets futurs. Alors qui sait ?
La Colombie est un pays merveilleux, sans le moindre doute. Les gens sont adorables et la nature est très belle. Mais c’est peut-être bien, de mon point de vue égoïste, qu’il « fasse encore trop peur ». J’ai particulièrement apprécié la fraîcheur et la spontanéité des gens, et le fait de ne pas avoir à me démener à travers une foule de touristes.
Medellin – Parque Arví
Medellin est traversée par la rivière Aburrá, ou Porce – mais on dit plus simplement « rivière de Medellin ». Elle fait partie du bassin de la rivière Cauca. La ville s’étire sur un axe nord-sud le long de la rivière, et se trouve encadrée de chaque côté par des montagnes. Le tout forme un ensemble assez symétrique avec des points de repère évidents, ce qui fait qu’il est assez facile de naviguer dans cette ville qui fait 2.5 millions d’habitants.
La ligne principale du métro de Medellin longe la rivière. Nous payons 4,500 pesos à deux, et allons de Exposiciones à Acevedo. De là, on peut prendre le téléférique sur la ligne K du « Metrocable » pour monter jusqu’à la station de Santo Domingo, sans rien payer de plus. C’est pratique et propre. Les gens de Medellin sont fiers de leur métro. C’est le seul en Colombie, disent-ils, et ils dénigrent le système compliqué de transport public de Bogotá.
La ligne K du Metrocable traverse les Comunas 1 et 2. « Comunas » signifie en principe « districts », mais on nous a dit plus tard que c’est souvent l’équivalent des « favelas » brésiliennes. Qu’en est-il ? Nous voici débarqués à Santo Domingo. Nous mangeons pour moins de 2 Euros pp dans une espèce de Chicken Quick Fry à proximité de la station. Impossible de trouver un restaurant plus digne de ce nom dans ce quartier plus humble et à vrai dire peu engageant.
Nous continuons avec le téléférique. Cette fois, c’est la ligne L et il faut payer 5,500 pesos pp. Cette ligne monte jusqu’au Parque Arví qui surplombe la ville. Nous partageons la « gondole » avec 3 Colombiens avec lesquels nous engageons une discussion. L’homme parle en fait parfaitement le Français, ayant été éduqué au Lycée Français de Bogotá.
Nous avons remarqué qu’à la télévision on ne voit que des Blancs, que ce soit des politiciens, des artistes ou des journalistes. Par contre, les gens semblent se mêler avec aisance et tranquillité dans la rue, sans signe évident de discrimination. Nos compagnons de route Colombiens, dans la « gondole » du téléférique, nous disent que s’il y a une discrimination, cela tiendrait plutôt à la classe sociale qu’à l’ethnicité de la personne, mais aussi qu’à leur avis les Noirs sont bien mieux intégrés que les Indiens dans la société Colombienne.
Nous ne doutons pas de la véracité de cette explication de la société Colombienne. Il ne reste pas moins vrai que l’argument d’une discrimination sociale plutôt qu’ethnique est un argument circulaire. La classe sociale des gens ne résulte-t-elle pas en grande partie de la discrimination raciale qui a sévi pendant des siècles ?
Le Parque Arví, au nord-est de Medellin, surplombe la ville de plusieurs centaines de mètres. Beaucoup de touristes y viennent, surtout des Colombiens. On a très vite fait le tour de l’infrastructure autour du téléférique, cafés, restaurants etc. Le parc lui-même est très beau, c’est sûr, mais peut-être un peu trop « aseptisé » à notre goût. On comprend que les autorités aient tout fait pour éviter le tourisme sauvage et pour protéger la végétation, mais nous aimerions bien nous aventurer dans la forêt et la voir de près, cette végétation. A ne semble de toute façon pas emballé par l’idée de faire une randonnée de quelques heures. Ce n’est pas qu’il soit paresseux, mais ce qu’il cherche le plus, ce sont des gens à prendre en photo. Il « travaille », me dit-il !
Donc, nous ne cherchons pas longtemps autour du téléférique. Nous restons dans le parc une petite heure, juste de quoi respirer un bon coup. Mais en fait, on respire bien dans la ville aussi, n’est-il pas vrai ? Ce n’est pas une plaisanterie, il ne nous semble pas qu’il y ait beaucoup de pollution dans ces villes de montagne.
Ce que je viens de dire sur le Parque Arví ne doit pas être pris à la lettre. Nous n’avons pas fait de grands efforts pour le découvrir, et il se peut bien qu’il puisse offrir bien du bonheur à d’autres gens.
Medellin est traversée par la rivière Aburrá, ou Porce – mais on dit plus simplement « rivière de Medellin ». Elle fait partie du bassin de la rivière Cauca. La ville s’étire sur un axe nord-sud le long de la rivière, et se trouve encadrée de chaque côté par des montagnes. Le tout forme un ensemble assez symétrique avec des points de repère évidents, ce qui fait qu’il est assez facile de naviguer dans cette ville qui fait 2.5 millions d’habitants.
La ligne principale du métro de Medellin longe la rivière. Nous payons 4,500 pesos à deux, et allons de Exposiciones à Acevedo. De là, on peut prendre le téléférique sur la ligne K du « Metrocable » pour monter jusqu’à la station de Santo Domingo, sans rien payer de plus. C’est pratique et propre. Les gens de Medellin sont fiers de leur métro. C’est le seul en Colombie, disent-ils, et ils dénigrent le système compliqué de transport public de Bogotá.
La ligne K du Metrocable traverse les Comunas 1 et 2. « Comunas » signifie en principe « districts », mais on nous a dit plus tard que c’est souvent l’équivalent des « favelas » brésiliennes. Qu’en est-il ? Nous voici débarqués à Santo Domingo. Nous mangeons pour moins de 2 Euros pp dans une espèce de Chicken Quick Fry à proximité de la station. Impossible de trouver un restaurant plus digne de ce nom dans ce quartier plus humble et à vrai dire peu engageant.
Nous continuons avec le téléférique. Cette fois, c’est la ligne L et il faut payer 5,500 pesos pp. Cette ligne monte jusqu’au Parque Arví qui surplombe la ville. Nous partageons la « gondole » avec 3 Colombiens avec lesquels nous engageons une discussion. L’homme parle en fait parfaitement le Français, ayant été éduqué au Lycée Français de Bogotá.
Nous avons remarqué qu’à la télévision on ne voit que des Blancs, que ce soit des politiciens, des artistes ou des journalistes. Par contre, les gens semblent se mêler avec aisance et tranquillité dans la rue, sans signe évident de discrimination. Nos compagnons de route Colombiens, dans la « gondole » du téléférique, nous disent que s’il y a une discrimination, cela tiendrait plutôt à la classe sociale qu’à l’ethnicité de la personne, mais aussi qu’à leur avis les Noirs sont bien mieux intégrés que les Indiens dans la société Colombienne.
Nous ne doutons pas de la véracité de cette explication de la société Colombienne. Il ne reste pas moins vrai que l’argument d’une discrimination sociale plutôt qu’ethnique est un argument circulaire. La classe sociale des gens ne résulte-t-elle pas en grande partie de la discrimination raciale qui a sévi pendant des siècles ?
Le Parque Arví, au nord-est de Medellin, surplombe la ville de plusieurs centaines de mètres. Beaucoup de touristes y viennent, surtout des Colombiens. On a très vite fait le tour de l’infrastructure autour du téléférique, cafés, restaurants etc. Le parc lui-même est très beau, c’est sûr, mais peut-être un peu trop « aseptisé » à notre goût. On comprend que les autorités aient tout fait pour éviter le tourisme sauvage et pour protéger la végétation, mais nous aimerions bien nous aventurer dans la forêt et la voir de près, cette végétation. A ne semble de toute façon pas emballé par l’idée de faire une randonnée de quelques heures. Ce n’est pas qu’il soit paresseux, mais ce qu’il cherche le plus, ce sont des gens à prendre en photo. Il « travaille », me dit-il !
Donc, nous ne cherchons pas longtemps autour du téléférique. Nous restons dans le parc une petite heure, juste de quoi respirer un bon coup. Mais en fait, on respire bien dans la ville aussi, n’est-il pas vrai ? Ce n’est pas une plaisanterie, il ne nous semble pas qu’il y ait beaucoup de pollution dans ces villes de montagne.
Ce que je viens de dire sur le Parque Arví ne doit pas être pris à la lettre. Nous n’avons pas fait de grands efforts pour le découvrir, et il se peut bien qu’il puisse offrir bien du bonheur à d’autres gens.
Bonjour GeorgesOZ,
hé oui il y a d'autres personnes qui vous suivre... Nous partons en Colombie mon épouse et moi en décembre (plus que 15 jours) et j'aime beaucoup votre récit très détaillé. Nous partons pour seulement 3 semaines avec un parcours un peu différent du votre mais je pense que la Colombie est belle partout. Merci encore pour partager votre expérience.
Jean-pierre
hé oui il y a d'autres personnes qui vous suivre... Nous partons en Colombie mon épouse et moi en décembre (plus que 15 jours) et j'aime beaucoup votre récit très détaillé. Nous partons pour seulement 3 semaines avec un parcours un peu différent du votre mais je pense que la Colombie est belle partout. Merci encore pour partager votre expérience.
Jean-pierre
Bonjour Georges,
je prévois d'aller en Colombie début 2019 et je découvre tout juste votre carnet.
Merci beaucoup de nous faire partager tout cela, c'est très intéressant et ça donne envie !
C'est aussi la façon que j'ai de voyager, transports locaux, rencontres à l'improviste... (voir mon carnet sur Haïti)
Serait-il possible de faire un genre de planning avec les dates pour avoir une idée du temps resté à chaque endroit et du temps pris par les déplacements ?
J'attends la suite ! A bientôt
Anne-Marie
Bonjour GeorgesOZ,
hé oui il y a d'autres personnes qui vous suivre... Nous partons en Colombie mon épouse et moi en décembre (plus que 15 jours) et j'aime beaucoup votre récit très détaillé. Nous partons pour seulement 3 semaines avec un parcours un peu différent du votre mais je pense que la Colombie est belle partout. Merci encore pour partager votre expérience.
Jean-pierre
Bonjour Jean-Pierre,
Belle presque partout, je dirais. Pour anticiper un brin sur la suite de mon carnet, nous avons trouvé la côte moins belle, là où nous sommes allé en tout cas, et aussi les "costeños" moins engageants que les gens des montagnes. De plus, l'Espagnol des "costeños" est plus difficile à capter.
Il y a un endroit où nous sommes passés que je baptiserais bien "le tdc de la Colombie". Mais patience, j'y arriverai bien dans la suite du carnet!
Mais ce n'est que mon impression, partagée par mon fils d'ailleurs.
hé oui il y a d'autres personnes qui vous suivre... Nous partons en Colombie mon épouse et moi en décembre (plus que 15 jours) et j'aime beaucoup votre récit très détaillé. Nous partons pour seulement 3 semaines avec un parcours un peu différent du votre mais je pense que la Colombie est belle partout. Merci encore pour partager votre expérience.
Jean-pierre
Bonjour Jean-Pierre,
Belle presque partout, je dirais. Pour anticiper un brin sur la suite de mon carnet, nous avons trouvé la côte moins belle, là où nous sommes allé en tout cas, et aussi les "costeños" moins engageants que les gens des montagnes. De plus, l'Espagnol des "costeños" est plus difficile à capter.
Il y a un endroit où nous sommes passés que je baptiserais bien "le tdc de la Colombie". Mais patience, j'y arriverai bien dans la suite du carnet!
Mais ce n'est que mon impression, partagée par mon fils d'ailleurs.
Bonjour Georges,
je prévois d'aller en Colombie début 2019 et je découvre tout juste votre carnet.
Merci beaucoup de nous faire partager tout cela, c'est très intéressant et ça donne envie !
C'est aussi la façon que j'ai de voyager, transports locaux, rencontres à l'improviste... (voir mon carnet sur Haïti)
Serait-il possible de faire un genre de planning avec les dates pour avoir une idée du temps resté à chaque endroit et du temps pris par les déplacements ?
J'attends la suite ! A bientôt
Anne-Marie
Bonjour Anne-Marie,
Pour les déplacements, j'ai donné beaucoup de détails dans les pages précédentes. Je viens de jeter un coup d'œil à mes notes et je peux te dire qu'en moyenne les bus que nous avons pris ont fait 35 kms par heure, arrêts y compris. Il faut plutôt compter 20 à 25 kms par heure si c’est vraiment montagneux. Le plus rapide serait dans les 50 kms par heure.
Quant au temps à passer à chaque endroit, je vois certains plans d’itinéraire qui n’accordent qu’une nuit à chaque étape. Ce n’est pas du tout ma façon de voyager, ça ne donne pas le temps de commencer à savourer les endroits, et c’est trop le style des gens qui veulent « tout faire » mais qui n'ont pas le temps. Bien évidemment, il y a tant de visites a priori intéressantes quand on regarde un pays comme la Colombie, mais il faut faire des choix. Moi et mon fils, nous avons passé en moyenne 2 jours entiers par endroit et même ça c'est parfois trop court.
Bonjour Anne-Marie,
Pour les déplacements, j'ai donné beaucoup de détails dans les pages précédentes. Je viens de jeter un coup d'œil à mes notes et je peux te dire qu'en moyenne les bus que nous avons pris ont fait 35 kms par heure, arrêts y compris. Il faut plutôt compter 20 à 25 kms par heure si c’est vraiment montagneux. Le plus rapide serait dans les 50 kms par heure.
Quant au temps à passer à chaque endroit, je vois certains plans d’itinéraire qui n’accordent qu’une nuit à chaque étape. Ce n’est pas du tout ma façon de voyager, ça ne donne pas le temps de commencer à savourer les endroits, et c’est trop le style des gens qui veulent « tout faire » mais qui n'ont pas le temps. Bien évidemment, il y a tant de visites a priori intéressantes quand on regarde un pays comme la Colombie, mais il faut faire des choix. Moi et mon fils, nous avons passé en moyenne 2 jours entiers par endroit et même ça c'est parfois trop court.
Bonjour Georges,
Merci infiniment pour ce récit de voyage. J’attends la suite avec impatience. Votre vision de la Colombie et des colombiens me touche d’autant plus que je suis marié à une santanderiana de Bucaramanga. J’adore ce pays que j’ai visité 3 fois déjà. Nous y avons passé toutes les fêtes de fin d’année en 2018. C’était enchanteur ! Mais je veux aussi le découvrir comme vos yeux et votre cœur l’ont vu. En juillet 2020, nous partons y vivre. Et je veux le parcourir comme vous l’avez fait avec votre fils. Si vous y revenez, nous vous y recevrons avec plaisir et chaleur. A la colombienne. Encore une fois merci de donner une telle image de ce pays merveilleux qui malheureusement fait encore trop peur. Au plaisir.
Bonjour Serge,
Comme je viens de l’écrire à Caro, quelques mots d’appréciation m’encouragent à continuer mon récit. Je te remercie donc – on peut se tutoyer, non ? Et merci aussi pour ton invitation de passer vous voir, toi et ton épouse, à Bucaramanga. Je ne suis pas passé par là-bas, il y a tellement de choses à voir en Colombie, mais ça fait partie de mes projets futurs. Alors qui sait ?
La Colombie est un pays merveilleux, sans le moindre doute. Les gens sont adorables et la nature est très belle. Mais c’est peut-être bien, de mon point de vue égoïste, qu’il « fasse encore trop peur ». J’ai particulièrement apprécié la fraîcheur et la spontanéité des gens, et le fait de ne pas avoir à me démener à travers une foule de touristes.
Bonjour Georges,
Merci pour ton retour et ce magnifique récit. Santander, c'est le département où se trouvent le canyon de Chicamocha, de petites villes super agréables comme Barichara ou San Gil. Bucaramanga et ses alentours sont aussi très beau. Le climat y est tempéré. J'ai cru comprendre que tu aimes les paysages, tu te régalerais aussi les yeux. Nous avons acheté un terrain sur la Mesa de los Santos, tout prêt du canyon. Et nous vivrons entre Bucaramanga et la Mesa. Le porc grillé de la Bandeja Paisa c'est le "chicaron". A te lire avec toujours autant de plaisir.
Merci infiniment pour ce récit de voyage. J’attends la suite avec impatience. Votre vision de la Colombie et des colombiens me touche d’autant plus que je suis marié à une santanderiana de Bucaramanga. J’adore ce pays que j’ai visité 3 fois déjà. Nous y avons passé toutes les fêtes de fin d’année en 2018. C’était enchanteur ! Mais je veux aussi le découvrir comme vos yeux et votre cœur l’ont vu. En juillet 2020, nous partons y vivre. Et je veux le parcourir comme vous l’avez fait avec votre fils. Si vous y revenez, nous vous y recevrons avec plaisir et chaleur. A la colombienne. Encore une fois merci de donner une telle image de ce pays merveilleux qui malheureusement fait encore trop peur. Au plaisir.
Bonjour Serge,
Comme je viens de l’écrire à Caro, quelques mots d’appréciation m’encouragent à continuer mon récit. Je te remercie donc – on peut se tutoyer, non ? Et merci aussi pour ton invitation de passer vous voir, toi et ton épouse, à Bucaramanga. Je ne suis pas passé par là-bas, il y a tellement de choses à voir en Colombie, mais ça fait partie de mes projets futurs. Alors qui sait ?
La Colombie est un pays merveilleux, sans le moindre doute. Les gens sont adorables et la nature est très belle. Mais c’est peut-être bien, de mon point de vue égoïste, qu’il « fasse encore trop peur ». J’ai particulièrement apprécié la fraîcheur et la spontanéité des gens, et le fait de ne pas avoir à me démener à travers une foule de touristes.
Bonjour Georges,
Merci pour ton retour et ce magnifique récit. Santander, c'est le département où se trouvent le canyon de Chicamocha, de petites villes super agréables comme Barichara ou San Gil. Bucaramanga et ses alentours sont aussi très beau. Le climat y est tempéré. J'ai cru comprendre que tu aimes les paysages, tu te régalerais aussi les yeux. Nous avons acheté un terrain sur la Mesa de los Santos, tout prêt du canyon. Et nous vivrons entre Bucaramanga et la Mesa. Le porc grillé de la Bandeja Paisa c'est le "chicaron". A te lire avec toujours autant de plaisir.
Elica & Serge
Excellent carnet de voyages (vous devriez vous inscrire au "RV des Carnet de Voyages" à Clermont Ferrand (qui débute aujourd'hui vendredi jusqu'à dimanche). On se régale à vous lire ... votre style est très plaisant et les photos superbes.
Je suis étonnée de lire qu' "Aguadas est moins touristique que Salamina", non pas concernant Aguadas, mais relativement à Salamina : cette ville est-elle si touristique ??
Bonjour Serge,
Nous avons fait le trek du cañon de Chicamocha ( 3 jours/2 nuits) en avril 2017...Splendide!
Je n'ai pas su répondre à une demande de renseignement (via mon blog) concernant le questionnement d'un voyageur cherchant les possibilités de logement à Los Santos.
Nous n'étions pas concernés car la veille nous avions passé la nuit à Jordan et à l'arrivée sur la mesa de Los Santos nous avons pris le téléphérique et le bus pour San Gil.
Comme tu es un "régional de l'étape", as tu des adresses à conseiller pour un hébergement simple à Los Santos?
Merci! Cordialement, Alain
https://marie-alain.blog4ever.com/colombie-27-canon-de-chicamocha-trek-de-3-jours2-nuitsmarche-a-l-ombre
Nous avons fait le trek du cañon de Chicamocha ( 3 jours/2 nuits) en avril 2017...Splendide!
Je n'ai pas su répondre à une demande de renseignement (via mon blog) concernant le questionnement d'un voyageur cherchant les possibilités de logement à Los Santos.
Nous n'étions pas concernés car la veille nous avions passé la nuit à Jordan et à l'arrivée sur la mesa de Los Santos nous avons pris le téléphérique et le bus pour San Gil.
Comme tu es un "régional de l'étape", as tu des adresses à conseiller pour un hébergement simple à Los Santos?
Merci! Cordialement, Alain
https://marie-alain.blog4ever.com/colombie-27-canon-de-chicamocha-trek-de-3-jours2-nuitsmarche-a-l-ombre
Excellent carnet de voyages (vous devriez vous inscrire au "RV des Carnet de Voyages" à Clermont Ferrand (qui débute aujourd'hui vendredi jusqu'à dimanche). On se régale à vous lire ... votre style est très plaisant et les photos superbes.
Je suis étonnée de lire qu' "Aguadas est moins touristique que Salamina", non pas concernant Aguadas, mais relativement à Salamina : cette ville est-elle si touristique ??
Merci Fanny! ... Mais ça ne va pas faire du bien à ma modestie naturelle, hem hem! 😉. Mais je suis ravi de savoir qu'il y a un bon nombre de gens qui suivent mon récit avec plaisir. Je ne suis pas en France, donc impasse sur le rendez-vous à Clermont-Ferrand. 😕
Ce n'est pas que Salamina soit tellement touristique, mais Aguadas l'est encore moins!
A Salamina, nous avons cru entendre un peu de mouvement dans les chambres voisines de la nôtre, mais il s'agissait peut-être de touristes Colombiens. Nous n'avons en tout cas pas entendu parler autre chose que de l'Espagnol de Bogotá à Medellin. Incroyable mais vrai!
Medellin qui se dit joliment "Medejin" dans le parler Colombien.
Merci Fanny! ... Mais ça ne va pas faire du bien à ma modestie naturelle, hem hem! 😉. Mais je suis ravi de savoir qu'il y a un bon nombre de gens qui suivent mon récit avec plaisir. Je ne suis pas en France, donc impasse sur le rendez-vous à Clermont-Ferrand. 😕
Ce n'est pas que Salamina soit tellement touristique, mais Aguadas l'est encore moins!
A Salamina, nous avons cru entendre un peu de mouvement dans les chambres voisines de la nôtre, mais il s'agissait peut-être de touristes Colombiens. Nous n'avons en tout cas pas entendu parler autre chose que de l'Espagnol de Bogotá à Medellin. Incroyable mais vrai!
Medellin qui se dit joliment "Medejin" dans le parler Colombien.
C'est vrai qu'en Amérique Latine le "ll" (de Medellin par ex.) se prononce plutôt "je" , et non sous la forme d'un "ye mouillé" c-a-d très doux comme en Espagne. La Colombie est cependant le pays où l'on parle le mieux l'espagnol, au niveau accent.
“plutôt je” est littéralement vrai car il ne s’agit pas d’un simple « je » comme le « je » Français. Ça varie en fait entre « ll » à l’Espagnole et « j » et parfois on croit même entendre un soupçon de « d » avant le « je ».
Ça paraît compliqué mais c’est comme ça. Il faut avoir de l’oreille !
Sinon, nous avons trouvé que l’Espagnol sur la côte Caribéenne est plus difficile à comprendre que celui des montagnes. Les « costeños » semblent “avaler” les consonnes par exemple.
“plutôt je” est littéralement vrai car il ne s’agit pas d’un simple « je » comme le « je » Français. Ça varie en fait entre « ll » à l’Espagnole et « j » et parfois on croit même entendre un soupçon de « d » avant le « je ».
Ça paraît compliqué mais c’est comme ça. Il faut avoir de l’oreille !
Sinon, nous avons trouvé que l’Espagnol sur la côte Caribéenne est plus difficile à comprendre que celui des montagnes. Les « costeños » semblent “avaler” les consonnes par exemple.
Medellin – Comunas
La descente du Parque Arví nous offre des vues superbes avec au premier plan les quartiers humbles des Comunas accrochées aux flancs de la vallée de Medellin. Les photos que j’ai pu prendre sont loin d’être parfaites, on voit les traces sales des vitres de la « gondole » du téléférique.
Nous voici de retour à la station de Santo Domingo. Vue de la rue avec ses peintures murales – le « street art » Colombien a une réputation bien m��ritée – mais aussi avec le fouillis caractéristique d’une zone qui n’a pas attiré d’investissements sérieux. Petit moment d’hésitation : allons-nous reprendre le téléférique pour redescendre jusqu’à la station Acevedo, ou bien allons-nous descendre à pied à travers les Comunas ? La carte affichée sur le portable nous indique qu’il y aurait 2.5 kms à faire, ce serait un bon bout de chemin surtout qu’il ne s’agit pas de belles rues gentiment tracées là, tout droit devant nous.
Vous connaissez la chanson « Born for adventure » de Styx ? Nous nous reconnaissons tout à fait dans le refrain :
“For I was born Born for adventure Women whisky and sin »
Allez que diable, nous ne savons pas sin nous allons trouver « femmes, whisky et péché » en route, mais en avant !
En fait, il est facile de trouver notre chemin par ces ruelles étroites et allées tortueuses, il suffit de suivre la pente assez raide qui mène au fond de la vallée. Les habitations sont petites et serrées les unes contre les autres. Elles sont modestes, ces maisons et souvent d’une construction bâclée, par manque de moyens sans doute, mais elles ne sont pas franchement miséreuses. Nous avons vu pire.
Toutefois, nous ne risquerions pas dans ces parages le soir ! Nous restons un peu appréhensifs et sur nos gardes. Un groupe d’adolescents nous interpelle pour nous montrer le cannabis qu’ils font pousser entre les maisons, et nous en offrent. Plus bas encore, quelques minutes plus tard, d’autres jeunes nous appellent d’une maison pour manifestement nous offrir quelque produit « exotique ». Ils sont tous gentils et de bonne humeur, mais nous préférons passer notre chemin. Instinctivement, nous nous disons qu’il vaut mieux ne pas nous attarder où que ce soit et trop attirer l’attention sur nous.
Mais le démon de la photo tenaille A. Il ne peut pas résister à la tentation de faire poser un jeune au torse nu abondamment tatoué, style yakuza.
Nous voici tout à fait en bas. Encore une passerelle pour franchir la rivière et Il faut chercher un peu à travers quelques baraques industrielles désaffectées, avant d’arriver à la station Acevedo. De là, nous prenons le métro jusqu’à la station Universidad, aux alentours de laquelle nous avons vu qu’il y a de l’animation dans le cadre du Festival de las Flores. Cela semble être un quartier intéressant et bien animé, effectivement. Beaucoup de gens dans les rues.
Nous nous installons dans le Parque Norte, devant une bière bien méritée après notre visite des Comunas ! Au programme, il y aurait de la musique Andine au fond du parc, mais malheureusement le démon de la photo attaque A, une fois de plus. Mais il s’agit d’un autre démon, celui de « l’inquiétude artistique ». Ce démon qui vit dans les couloirs obscurs de la psychologie de mon fils a cette mauvaise manie de le faire douter de soi-même. Aujourd’hui, ce vicelard lui susurre à l’oreille que toutes ces belles photos qu’il vient de prendre, et bien non, elles ne sont pas si bonnes que ça, elles ne sont pas assez nettes. Horreur ! A inspecte ses photos, l’une après l’autre, mais ne peut pas se rassurer de leur qualité, il faudrait qu’il puisse les décharger sur un PC pour pouvoir les examiner avec un grossissement suffisant, jusque dans leurs derniers détails.
Que faire ? A est vraiment inquiet, il craint qu’il y ait un défaut systématique dû à l’appareil ou à l’objectif. Il faut qu’il en ait le cœur net. Il cherche sur son portable, trouve une photographe, appelle. Bingo ! Elle répond, A s’explique, elle lui offre gentiment de passer la voir dans son studio, et par chance ce n’est pas trop loin. Hop, nous sautons dans un taxi. J’ai dû expédier le reste de ma bière « bien méritée »….
La descente du Parque Arví nous offre des vues superbes avec au premier plan les quartiers humbles des Comunas accrochées aux flancs de la vallée de Medellin. Les photos que j’ai pu prendre sont loin d’être parfaites, on voit les traces sales des vitres de la « gondole » du téléférique.
Nous voici de retour à la station de Santo Domingo. Vue de la rue avec ses peintures murales – le « street art » Colombien a une réputation bien m��ritée – mais aussi avec le fouillis caractéristique d’une zone qui n’a pas attiré d’investissements sérieux. Petit moment d’hésitation : allons-nous reprendre le téléférique pour redescendre jusqu’à la station Acevedo, ou bien allons-nous descendre à pied à travers les Comunas ? La carte affichée sur le portable nous indique qu’il y aurait 2.5 kms à faire, ce serait un bon bout de chemin surtout qu’il ne s’agit pas de belles rues gentiment tracées là, tout droit devant nous.
Vous connaissez la chanson « Born for adventure » de Styx ? Nous nous reconnaissons tout à fait dans le refrain :
“For I was born Born for adventure Women whisky and sin »
Allez que diable, nous ne savons pas sin nous allons trouver « femmes, whisky et péché » en route, mais en avant !
En fait, il est facile de trouver notre chemin par ces ruelles étroites et allées tortueuses, il suffit de suivre la pente assez raide qui mène au fond de la vallée. Les habitations sont petites et serrées les unes contre les autres. Elles sont modestes, ces maisons et souvent d’une construction bâclée, par manque de moyens sans doute, mais elles ne sont pas franchement miséreuses. Nous avons vu pire.
Toutefois, nous ne risquerions pas dans ces parages le soir ! Nous restons un peu appréhensifs et sur nos gardes. Un groupe d’adolescents nous interpelle pour nous montrer le cannabis qu’ils font pousser entre les maisons, et nous en offrent. Plus bas encore, quelques minutes plus tard, d’autres jeunes nous appellent d’une maison pour manifestement nous offrir quelque produit « exotique ». Ils sont tous gentils et de bonne humeur, mais nous préférons passer notre chemin. Instinctivement, nous nous disons qu’il vaut mieux ne pas nous attarder où que ce soit et trop attirer l’attention sur nous.
Mais le démon de la photo tenaille A. Il ne peut pas résister à la tentation de faire poser un jeune au torse nu abondamment tatoué, style yakuza.
Nous voici tout à fait en bas. Encore une passerelle pour franchir la rivière et Il faut chercher un peu à travers quelques baraques industrielles désaffectées, avant d’arriver à la station Acevedo. De là, nous prenons le métro jusqu’à la station Universidad, aux alentours de laquelle nous avons vu qu’il y a de l’animation dans le cadre du Festival de las Flores. Cela semble être un quartier intéressant et bien animé, effectivement. Beaucoup de gens dans les rues.
Nous nous installons dans le Parque Norte, devant une bière bien méritée après notre visite des Comunas ! Au programme, il y aurait de la musique Andine au fond du parc, mais malheureusement le démon de la photo attaque A, une fois de plus. Mais il s’agit d’un autre démon, celui de « l’inquiétude artistique ». Ce démon qui vit dans les couloirs obscurs de la psychologie de mon fils a cette mauvaise manie de le faire douter de soi-même. Aujourd’hui, ce vicelard lui susurre à l’oreille que toutes ces belles photos qu’il vient de prendre, et bien non, elles ne sont pas si bonnes que ça, elles ne sont pas assez nettes. Horreur ! A inspecte ses photos, l’une après l’autre, mais ne peut pas se rassurer de leur qualité, il faudrait qu’il puisse les décharger sur un PC pour pouvoir les examiner avec un grossissement suffisant, jusque dans leurs derniers détails.
Que faire ? A est vraiment inquiet, il craint qu’il y ait un défaut systématique dû à l’appareil ou à l’objectif. Il faut qu’il en ait le cœur net. Il cherche sur son portable, trouve une photographe, appelle. Bingo ! Elle répond, A s’explique, elle lui offre gentiment de passer la voir dans son studio, et par chance ce n’est pas trop loin. Hop, nous sautons dans un taxi. J’ai dû expédier le reste de ma bière « bien méritée »….
Bonjour Georges,
je prévois d'aller en Colombie début 2019 et je découvre tout juste votre carnet.
Merci beaucoup de nous faire partager tout cela, c'est très intéressant et ça donne envie !
C'est aussi la façon que j'ai de voyager, transports locaux, rencontres à l'improviste... (voir mon carnet sur Haïti)
Serait-il possible de faire un genre de planning avec les dates pour avoir une idée du temps resté à chaque endroit et du temps pris par les déplacements ?
J'attends la suite ! A bientôt
Anne-Marie
Bonjour Anne-Marie,
Pour les déplacements, j'ai donné beaucoup de détails dans les pages précédentes. Je viens de jeter un coup d'œil à mes notes et je peux te dire qu'en moyenne les bus que nous avons pris ont fait 35 kms par heure, arrêts y compris. Il faut plutôt compter 20 à 25 kms par heure si c’est vraiment montagneux. Le plus rapide serait dans les 50 kms par heure.
Quant au temps à passer à chaque endroit, je vois certains plans d’itinéraire qui n’accordent qu’une nuit à chaque étape. Ce n’est pas du tout ma façon de voyager, ça ne donne pas le temps de commencer à savourer les endroits, et c’est trop le style des gens qui veulent « tout faire » mais qui n'ont pas le temps. Bien évidemment, il y a tant de visites a priori intéressantes quand on regarde un pays comme la Colombie, mais il faut faire des choix. Moi et mon fils, nous avons passé en moyenne 2 jours entiers par endroit et même ça c'est parfois trop court.
Merci beaucoup Georges de m'avoir répondu ! Je lis avec intérêt la suite 🙂 A bientôt Anne-Marie
Bonjour Anne-Marie,
Pour les déplacements, j'ai donné beaucoup de détails dans les pages précédentes. Je viens de jeter un coup d'œil à mes notes et je peux te dire qu'en moyenne les bus que nous avons pris ont fait 35 kms par heure, arrêts y compris. Il faut plutôt compter 20 à 25 kms par heure si c’est vraiment montagneux. Le plus rapide serait dans les 50 kms par heure.
Quant au temps à passer à chaque endroit, je vois certains plans d’itinéraire qui n’accordent qu’une nuit à chaque étape. Ce n’est pas du tout ma façon de voyager, ça ne donne pas le temps de commencer à savourer les endroits, et c’est trop le style des gens qui veulent « tout faire » mais qui n'ont pas le temps. Bien évidemment, il y a tant de visites a priori intéressantes quand on regarde un pays comme la Colombie, mais il faut faire des choix. Moi et mon fils, nous avons passé en moyenne 2 jours entiers par endroit et même ça c'est parfois trop court.
Merci beaucoup Georges de m'avoir répondu ! Je lis avec intérêt la suite 🙂 A bientôt Anne-Marie
Medellin – Quartiers Nord et El Poblado
Le studio de photographie se trouve dans la Calle 92, à la hauteur de la Carrera 49. Lina García se spécialise dans la photo d’enfants. Son petit studio est bourré de jouets en peluche, de déguisements de fée, de Robin des Bois, de Spiderman et tout autre personnage fantaisiste dont les enfants, ou les parents, pourraient rêver pour faire des photos « inoubliables ».
Lina García nous attendait. Elle nous conduit à son bureau, et bien qu’elle ait quelques clients assis à attendre leur tour, elle passe un bon bout de temps à examiner les photos de A, qu’il a téléchargées sur son PC. Tous deux discutent des détails techniques, le cadrage, l’exposition etc. Plusieurs photos semblent être tout à fait correctes vues de très près, ce qui indiquerait qu’il ne peut pas y avoir un défaut systématique dû à l’appareil ou aux objectifs utilisés – c’était l’une des hantises qui poursuivait A. Lina, comme moi-même, nous lui répétons que s’il a pu faire un bon nombre de bonnes photos, il n’y a pas de raison pour que presque toutes ses photos soient également bonnes, à part bien sûr les quelques ratés occasionnels.
Nous ne le convainquons qu’à moitié. Une fois tenaillé par l’angoisse, il est difficile de complètement le rassurer. Mais nous avons suffisamment pinaillé et il faut aller de l’avant. Nous quittons Lina en la remerciant profusément pour sa gentillesse. A deux pas de chez elle, nous arrivons au Parque Aranjuez et de là nous prenons le MetroPlus, en fait il s’agit d’un bus, jusque à la station Hospital. Nous traversons des quartiers qui ont vraiment l’air très sympathiques et bien animés : Aranjuez, Las Esmeraldas, Campo Valdez ….
A Hospital, nous prenons le métro jusque à la station Poblado. Sur la place en bas de la station, à l’intersection de la Calle 10 et de la Carrera 48, il y a beaucoup de jeunes. C’est là que nous rencontrons Antony, un Français de père Togolais et de mère Guadeloupéenne. Il a disposé une carte du monde sur le pavé, et quelques dizaines de photos pour illustrer son parcours. Antony est un mordu de l’aventure, il voyage. Il a traversé 50 pays depuis 2013. Nous bavardons sur ses expériences en Chine et ailleurs. Il vient juste de passer 2 mois au Venezuela, ce qui nous impressionne étant donné la crise grave que connaît ce pays. Mais Antony est cool, il semble bien se tirer d’affaire un peu partout. Nous lui donnons un peu d’argent pour l’aider à continuer son voyage.
Plus loin, vers Parque Lleras, nous mangeons pour 85,000 COP à deux. Ça fait 23 Euros, ce qui nous semble cher, plus cher que ce à quoi nous nous sommes habitués depuis notre arrivée à Bogotá. Mais nous nous trouvons ici dans un quartier nettement plus touristique, et en plus nous avons bu 4 bières !
Ce quartier, El Poblado, est bien animé. La plupart des gens semblent être des touristes et des familles Colombiennes. Mais visiblement c’est un quartier « aseptisé », pas tellement le genre d’environnement que nous cherchons dans notre voyage. Pour le dire tout droit, de tout ce que nous avons vu à Medellin, c’est ce qui nous a le moins plu. Mais bon, ce n’était pas douloureux, loin de là.
C’est la fin d’une journée bien remplie. Plutôt que de faire le chemin inverse, à pied puis le métro puis de nouveau à pied, nous prenons un taxi et nous sommes assez rapidement de retour à l’hôtel. Prix de la course 10,000 COP, soit moins de 3 Euros, on aurait tort de se priver !
Le studio de photographie se trouve dans la Calle 92, à la hauteur de la Carrera 49. Lina García se spécialise dans la photo d’enfants. Son petit studio est bourré de jouets en peluche, de déguisements de fée, de Robin des Bois, de Spiderman et tout autre personnage fantaisiste dont les enfants, ou les parents, pourraient rêver pour faire des photos « inoubliables ».
Lina García nous attendait. Elle nous conduit à son bureau, et bien qu’elle ait quelques clients assis à attendre leur tour, elle passe un bon bout de temps à examiner les photos de A, qu’il a téléchargées sur son PC. Tous deux discutent des détails techniques, le cadrage, l’exposition etc. Plusieurs photos semblent être tout à fait correctes vues de très près, ce qui indiquerait qu’il ne peut pas y avoir un défaut systématique dû à l’appareil ou aux objectifs utilisés – c’était l’une des hantises qui poursuivait A. Lina, comme moi-même, nous lui répétons que s’il a pu faire un bon nombre de bonnes photos, il n’y a pas de raison pour que presque toutes ses photos soient également bonnes, à part bien sûr les quelques ratés occasionnels.
Nous ne le convainquons qu’à moitié. Une fois tenaillé par l’angoisse, il est difficile de complètement le rassurer. Mais nous avons suffisamment pinaillé et il faut aller de l’avant. Nous quittons Lina en la remerciant profusément pour sa gentillesse. A deux pas de chez elle, nous arrivons au Parque Aranjuez et de là nous prenons le MetroPlus, en fait il s’agit d’un bus, jusque à la station Hospital. Nous traversons des quartiers qui ont vraiment l’air très sympathiques et bien animés : Aranjuez, Las Esmeraldas, Campo Valdez ….
A Hospital, nous prenons le métro jusque à la station Poblado. Sur la place en bas de la station, à l’intersection de la Calle 10 et de la Carrera 48, il y a beaucoup de jeunes. C’est là que nous rencontrons Antony, un Français de père Togolais et de mère Guadeloupéenne. Il a disposé une carte du monde sur le pavé, et quelques dizaines de photos pour illustrer son parcours. Antony est un mordu de l’aventure, il voyage. Il a traversé 50 pays depuis 2013. Nous bavardons sur ses expériences en Chine et ailleurs. Il vient juste de passer 2 mois au Venezuela, ce qui nous impressionne étant donné la crise grave que connaît ce pays. Mais Antony est cool, il semble bien se tirer d’affaire un peu partout. Nous lui donnons un peu d’argent pour l’aider à continuer son voyage.
Plus loin, vers Parque Lleras, nous mangeons pour 85,000 COP à deux. Ça fait 23 Euros, ce qui nous semble cher, plus cher que ce à quoi nous nous sommes habitués depuis notre arrivée à Bogotá. Mais nous nous trouvons ici dans un quartier nettement plus touristique, et en plus nous avons bu 4 bières !
Ce quartier, El Poblado, est bien animé. La plupart des gens semblent être des touristes et des familles Colombiennes. Mais visiblement c’est un quartier « aseptisé », pas tellement le genre d’environnement que nous cherchons dans notre voyage. Pour le dire tout droit, de tout ce que nous avons vu à Medellin, c’est ce qui nous a le moins plu. Mais bon, ce n’était pas douloureux, loin de là.
C’est la fin d’une journée bien remplie. Plutôt que de faire le chemin inverse, à pied puis le métro puis de nouveau à pied, nous prenons un taxi et nous sommes assez rapidement de retour à l’hôtel. Prix de la course 10,000 COP, soit moins de 3 Euros, on aurait tort de se priver !
El Peñol – Souvenirs d’Aventures Passées
Le Terminal Norte se trouve à côté de la station de Métro Caribe. Le billet du bus Sotrasanvincente pour Guatapé coûte 14,000 COP par personne – 4 Euros. Départ à 8 :40.
Ces deux semaines passées, depuis notre arrivée à Bogotá, nous n’avions rencontré aucun étranger, et là c’est le choc. Dès que nous joignons le groupe de gens qui attendent le bus, nous savons que nous sommes retombés sur le « Gringo Trail » : au moins la moitié des gens sont des touristes étrangers.
Un jeune Canadien est frustré de ne pas pouvoir communiquer avec le conducteur : « No comprendo. No habla Inglés ? ». Ça semble être tout l’Espagnol qu’il maîtrise. Espère, mon ami, les Colombiens qui parlent Anglais, ça ne court pas les rues !
La route est bonne, mais bien sûr ce n’est toujours pas une belle autoroute « bien de chez nous ». Nous arrivons à l’arrêt de El Peñol. La plupart des gens descendent du bus. Notre jeune Canadien se lève et déclare haut et fort que « it’s the worst ride I ever had ! ». Ce qui nous fait bien rire, A et moi. Et bé dis donc, si c’est la pire route qu’il a vue jusqu’ici, il a encore du chemin à faire dans la vie !
Notre intention n’est pas d’aller voir tout de suite le fameux rocher de El Peñol, mais nous descendons quand-même du bus. Nous demandons au conducteur combien de temps il s’arrête : « 4 minutes ! », nous dit-il. Nous lui disons donc que nous allons aux toilettes. « Vale ! » nous répond-il. Mais surprise, revenant des toilettes, plus de bus sur la place ! L’oiseau s’est envolé ….. avec nos bagages !
Je n’ai pas grand-chose dans mon sac, juste 2 ou 3 habits de rechange et une trousse de toilette. Mais A, lui, a laissé 2 sacs dans le bus, dont celui où il range son matériel photo, et il y en a pour quelques milliers d’Euros ! Heureusement, tout ça, c’est remplaçable, et mon fils a une bonne assurance. Nous nous retrouvons là avec tout juste les habits que nous portons et nos documents importants, passeports, monnaie et cartes de crédit. Voyons ça du bon côté : c’est le début d’une grande aventure !
Ce n’est d’ailleurs pas la première fois qu’une telle chose m’arrive. En 1981, le sac que j’avais eu la malchance d’enregistrer sur l’avion de Guatemala Ciudad à Mérida, au Mexique, avait été perdu et comme j’enchaînais les vols de Mérida à Miami, puis de Miami à Amsterdam, je m’étais retrouvé aux Pays-Bas avec mon passeport, un peu d’argent, et une chemise Maya sur le dos. C’était fin décembre et il faisait un froid à pierre fendre….. Du coup, j’avais perdu toutes les photos que j’avais prises en Amérique Centrale car j’avais eu la bêtise de laisser toutes mes pellicules dans le sac en question.
Plus loin dans le temps, c’était en 1975, je m’étais retrouvé un beau matin dans un hôtel miteux de Peshawar, n’ayant plus sur moi que des habits légers. Un compagnon de chambre avait profité de mon sommeil profond pour me dévaliser. Je donne un petit extrait de la page 2 de mon carnet « Vers l'Orient dans les années 1970 « :
« Mon passeport, mon billet d’avion pour le retour de Kaboul à Paris (on voyageait avec des billets en papier à cette époque), mes traveller chèques : envolés ! Une tuile de béton m’était tombée sur la tête et je me retrouvais dans la merde la plus profonde. Ah ! Je cherchais de l’aventure ? C’est elle qui était venue me chercher ! Je savais que je me trouvais au bord d’un précipice et je ne pouvais pas même commencer à me demander ce qui m’y attendait, au fond. J’en avais l’estomac noué, j’étais livide. »
voyageforum.com/...ost=2682781;#2682781
Revenons à cet arrêt à la station d’essence Zeuss, juste en bas du rocher de El Peñol. Comme il est midi, nous nous installons à une des tables et commandons à manger. De la bonne viande grillée, 26,000 COP pour deux – 7 Euros. De là, nous sommes aux premières loges pour observer la circulation incessante des voyageurs. Confirmation : nous sommes bel et bien retombés sur le « Gringo Trail » !
Ces deux semaines passées, depuis notre arrivée à Bogotá, nous n’avions rencontré aucun étranger, et là c’est le choc. Dès que nous joignons le groupe de gens qui attendent le bus, nous savons que nous sommes retombés sur le « Gringo Trail » : au moins la moitié des gens sont des touristes étrangers.
Un jeune Canadien est frustré de ne pas pouvoir communiquer avec le conducteur : « No comprendo. No habla Inglés ? ». Ça semble être tout l’Espagnol qu’il maîtrise. Espère, mon ami, les Colombiens qui parlent Anglais, ça ne court pas les rues !
La route est bonne, mais bien sûr ce n’est toujours pas une belle autoroute « bien de chez nous ». Nous arrivons à l’arrêt de El Peñol. La plupart des gens descendent du bus. Notre jeune Canadien se lève et déclare haut et fort que « it’s the worst ride I ever had ! ». Ce qui nous fait bien rire, A et moi. Et bé dis donc, si c’est la pire route qu’il a vue jusqu’ici, il a encore du chemin à faire dans la vie !
Notre intention n’est pas d’aller voir tout de suite le fameux rocher de El Peñol, mais nous descendons quand-même du bus. Nous demandons au conducteur combien de temps il s’arrête : « 4 minutes ! », nous dit-il. Nous lui disons donc que nous allons aux toilettes. « Vale ! » nous répond-il. Mais surprise, revenant des toilettes, plus de bus sur la place ! L’oiseau s’est envolé ….. avec nos bagages !
Je n’ai pas grand-chose dans mon sac, juste 2 ou 3 habits de rechange et une trousse de toilette. Mais A, lui, a laissé 2 sacs dans le bus, dont celui où il range son matériel photo, et il y en a pour quelques milliers d’Euros ! Heureusement, tout ça, c’est remplaçable, et mon fils a une bonne assurance. Nous nous retrouvons là avec tout juste les habits que nous portons et nos documents importants, passeports, monnaie et cartes de crédit. Voyons ça du bon côté : c’est le début d’une grande aventure !
Ce n’est d’ailleurs pas la première fois qu’une telle chose m’arrive. En 1981, le sac que j’avais eu la malchance d’enregistrer sur l’avion de Guatemala Ciudad à Mérida, au Mexique, avait été perdu et comme j’enchaînais les vols de Mérida à Miami, puis de Miami à Amsterdam, je m’étais retrouvé aux Pays-Bas avec mon passeport, un peu d’argent, et une chemise Maya sur le dos. C’était fin décembre et il faisait un froid à pierre fendre….. Du coup, j’avais perdu toutes les photos que j’avais prises en Amérique Centrale car j’avais eu la bêtise de laisser toutes mes pellicules dans le sac en question.
Plus loin dans le temps, c’était en 1975, je m’étais retrouvé un beau matin dans un hôtel miteux de Peshawar, n’ayant plus sur moi que des habits légers. Un compagnon de chambre avait profité de mon sommeil profond pour me dévaliser. Je donne un petit extrait de la page 2 de mon carnet « Vers l'Orient dans les années 1970 « :
« Mon passeport, mon billet d’avion pour le retour de Kaboul à Paris (on voyageait avec des billets en papier à cette époque), mes traveller chèques : envolés ! Une tuile de béton m’était tombée sur la tête et je me retrouvais dans la merde la plus profonde. Ah ! Je cherchais de l’aventure ? C’est elle qui était venue me chercher ! Je savais que je me trouvais au bord d’un précipice et je ne pouvais pas même commencer à me demander ce qui m’y attendait, au fond. J’en avais l’estomac noué, j’étais livide. »
voyageforum.com/...ost=2682781;#2682781
Revenons à cet arrêt à la station d’essence Zeuss, juste en bas du rocher de El Peñol. Comme il est midi, nous nous installons à une des tables et commandons à manger. De la bonne viande grillée, 26,000 COP pour deux – 7 Euros. De là, nous sommes aux premières loges pour observer la circulation incessante des voyageurs. Confirmation : nous sommes bel et bien retombés sur le « Gringo Trail » !
bonjour Georges OZ,
Je lis avec bcp d’intérêt votre périple en Colombie!! Récit trés intéressant et une belle description de votre voyage. Nous sommes hésitants entre la Colombie et l’Équateur.
Votre périple nous aidera à se faire une idée d’ou nous irons :))
Encore un gros merci!!
L’ouverture sur le monde est un émerveillement assuré pour le coeur !!
bonjour Georges OZ,
Je lis avec bcp d’intérêt votre périple en Colombie!! Récit trés intéressant et une belle description de votre voyage. Nous sommes hésitants entre la Colombie et l’Équateur.
Votre périple nous aidera à se faire une idée d’ou nous irons :))
Encore un gros merci!!
Bonjour Suzan, Je ne pourrai pas dire grand-chose sur l’Equateur, sauf que Quito vaut bien 3 jours ou plus. Très belle ville et il y a beaucoup d’animation le soir autour de la Plaza Foch. Plus plusieurs bonnes excursions d’un jour en dehors de la ville.
Bonjour Suzan, Je ne pourrai pas dire grand-chose sur l’Equateur, sauf que Quito vaut bien 3 jours ou plus. Très belle ville et il y a beaucoup d’animation le soir autour de la Plaza Foch. Plus plusieurs bonnes excursions d’un jour en dehors de la ville.
Salut Georges!
L'aventure c'est l'Aventure comme dirait l'Autre !!! En tout cas pour la lectrice que je suis, c'est un vrai suspens, et j'attends la suite (le dénouement?) avec impatience ! ! ps : comme j'envie ton périple "vers l'Orient", je n'aurais hélas, JAMAIS l'occasion de vivre une telle expérience...
L'aventure c'est l'Aventure comme dirait l'Autre !!! En tout cas pour la lectrice que je suis, c'est un vrai suspens, et j'attends la suite (le dénouement?) avec impatience ! ! ps : comme j'envie ton périple "vers l'Orient", je n'aurais hélas, JAMAIS l'occasion de vivre une telle expérience...
Salut Georges!
L'aventure c'est l'Aventure comme dirait l'Autre !!! En tout cas pour la lectrice que je suis, c'est un vrai suspens, et j'attends la suite (le dénouement?) avec impatience ! ! ps : comme j'envie ton périple "vers l'Orient", je n'aurais hélas, JAMAIS l'occasion de vivre une telle expérience...
Bonjour Caro,
J’avoue avoir vicieusement laissé mon récit sur un grand point d’interrogation : qu’allons-nous devenir, moi et mon fils, ayant perdu nos bagages ? Suspense !
Quant à mon aventure « vers l’Orient dans les années 70 », je comprends un peu ta jalousie. L’essentiel pour pouvoir vivre des moments palpitants, c’est l’élément de surprise, je pense, ce qui était beaucoup plus facile il y a quelques dizaines d’années, avant les facilités de transport et de communication : le tourisme de masse et surtout l’explosion d’internet et des médias sociaux.
La question « était-ce mieux avant ? » a été abordée plusieurs fois sur VF. J’appartiens à « l’école » des « veux cons », celle des gens qui pensent que c’était effectivement mieux avant. Je profite bien moi-même des facilités modernes, mais « le tourisme tue le tourisme ». Je suis retourné plusieurs fois à des endroits que j’avais visités des années auparavant et j’ai presque toujours été déçu. Ma plus grosse déception sans doute : Koh Pha Ngan en Thaïlande.
L'aventure c'est l'Aventure comme dirait l'Autre !!! En tout cas pour la lectrice que je suis, c'est un vrai suspens, et j'attends la suite (le dénouement?) avec impatience ! ! ps : comme j'envie ton périple "vers l'Orient", je n'aurais hélas, JAMAIS l'occasion de vivre une telle expérience...
Bonjour Caro,
J’avoue avoir vicieusement laissé mon récit sur un grand point d’interrogation : qu’allons-nous devenir, moi et mon fils, ayant perdu nos bagages ? Suspense !
Quant à mon aventure « vers l’Orient dans les années 70 », je comprends un peu ta jalousie. L’essentiel pour pouvoir vivre des moments palpitants, c’est l’élément de surprise, je pense, ce qui était beaucoup plus facile il y a quelques dizaines d’années, avant les facilités de transport et de communication : le tourisme de masse et surtout l’explosion d’internet et des médias sociaux.
La question « était-ce mieux avant ? » a été abordée plusieurs fois sur VF. J’appartiens à « l’école » des « veux cons », celle des gens qui pensent que c’était effectivement mieux avant. Je profite bien moi-même des facilités modernes, mais « le tourisme tue le tourisme ». Je suis retourné plusieurs fois à des endroits que j’avais visités des années auparavant et j’ai presque toujours été déçu. Ma plus grosse déception sans doute : Koh Pha Ngan en Thaïlande.
des "vieux cons" ou des "voeux cons" ? 😏
La trahison du clavier 🤪
hahaha! oui, "vieux con" ..... faute de frappe!
Alors nous faisons partie de la même catégorie (d'autant qu'a en croire votre profil nous avons le même âge) 🙂
Log in first, then come back to this page.
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This travel journal summarizes a trip I took in March to Argentine and Chilean Patagonia. It starts in El Calafate and ends in Ushuaia. During my planning, I considered looking into the Australis cruise from Punta Arenas to Ushuaia, as well as the W trek in Torres del Paine National Park. In both cases, I was put off by the prices. Instead of the cruise, I found two interesting wildlife excursions from Punta Arenas: whale watching in the Strait of Magellan and observing king penguins in Tierra del Fuego. The journey to Ushuaia was by bus. For Torres del Paine, things were a bit confusing, so I reached out to two agencies. In the end, I went with a rental car option, overnight stays on-site, and day hikes. I shared my full itinerary with the agency and ended up being taken care of by a local Argentine agency and a Chilean one.
So, here we go...
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.
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.
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.
Preamble
June 2024. While hiking with my brother on the GR 36 Tour du Morvan, I catch sight now and then of strange rectangular markers fixed to tree trunks. Against a bright orange background, a deep black Greek tau topped with a white dove. My first encounter with the Assisi Way. The Way of St. Francis: a pilgrimage route linking Vézelay in Burgundy to Assisi in Italy, covering nearly 1,800 km. It felt like an obvious next step—I immediately knew I’d take it on, attempt the adventure solo.

In the months that followed, I talked about my project to everyone—family, friends, my partner. An avalanche of comments, more or less the same but varying depending on each person’s character and life experiences. But deep down, it all boiled down to one legitimate question: why?
And the answers? Hesitant, awkward, partial, even confused. I quickly realized they weren’t so easy to find. It was as if my project seemed more like a whim, a kind of intimate caprice, rather than a well-thought-out plan. Of course, I knew the reasons that pushed me to leave—you always have to give some. Loved ones need to understand to feel reassured, and that’s understandable. But I fear that when I list them, they’ll sound like the same old checklist anyone embarking on this kind of journey might give. Of all the reasons I could mention, I’ll highlight just one here: the call of the road, the solo adventure that brings a powerful sense of freedom. A bit like Monsieur Seguin’s goat, who from her comfortable pen gazes longingly at the unconstrained horizon of the mountain. But if I’m being honest, I think I didn’t really know what I was looking for—or, more importantly, what I’d find. Deep down, when I reflect on it, one word keeps coming up that explains nothing and everything at once: desire.
Now well past sixty, I know that when I ask myself who I am or where I’m going, two things bring me fully back to myself: hiking and writing. And my intention was also to anchor this adventure through words, day by day. Writing down my feelings, emotions, discoveries, and reflections each evening. The famous travel journal that grounds the daily experience in reality. When I discovered the app "Polarstep," which was initially just meant to keep my loved ones updated and reassured, inform them of my progress, and maintain a connection, I found an opportunity to do it a little differently than usual. No retrospective notes polished up after returning, but spontaneous writing—recounting everything that crossed my mind during the day and publishing it immediately. A journey lived in real time.
This text is the exact transcription of my daily writings. Rereading them, I didn’t change a thing—just corrected a few mistakes and tweaked some awkward phrasing here and there. Short texts, fitting the format imposed by this kind of app. Writing as if addressing others.
Now, all that was left was to walk. April 18, 2026 – Vézelay.

June 2024. While hiking with my brother on the GR 36 Tour du Morvan, I catch sight now and then of strange rectangular markers fixed to tree trunks. Against a bright orange background, a deep black Greek tau topped with a white dove. My first encounter with the Assisi Way. The Way of St. Francis: a pilgrimage route linking Vézelay in Burgundy to Assisi in Italy, covering nearly 1,800 km. It felt like an obvious next step—I immediately knew I’d take it on, attempt the adventure solo.

In the months that followed, I talked about my project to everyone—family, friends, my partner. An avalanche of comments, more or less the same but varying depending on each person’s character and life experiences. But deep down, it all boiled down to one legitimate question: why?
And the answers? Hesitant, awkward, partial, even confused. I quickly realized they weren’t so easy to find. It was as if my project seemed more like a whim, a kind of intimate caprice, rather than a well-thought-out plan. Of course, I knew the reasons that pushed me to leave—you always have to give some. Loved ones need to understand to feel reassured, and that’s understandable. But I fear that when I list them, they’ll sound like the same old checklist anyone embarking on this kind of journey might give. Of all the reasons I could mention, I’ll highlight just one here: the call of the road, the solo adventure that brings a powerful sense of freedom. A bit like Monsieur Seguin’s goat, who from her comfortable pen gazes longingly at the unconstrained horizon of the mountain. But if I’m being honest, I think I didn’t really know what I was looking for—or, more importantly, what I’d find. Deep down, when I reflect on it, one word keeps coming up that explains nothing and everything at once: desire.
Now well past sixty, I know that when I ask myself who I am or where I’m going, two things bring me fully back to myself: hiking and writing. And my intention was also to anchor this adventure through words, day by day. Writing down my feelings, emotions, discoveries, and reflections each evening. The famous travel journal that grounds the daily experience in reality. When I discovered the app "Polarstep," which was initially just meant to keep my loved ones updated and reassured, inform them of my progress, and maintain a connection, I found an opportunity to do it a little differently than usual. No retrospective notes polished up after returning, but spontaneous writing—recounting everything that crossed my mind during the day and publishing it immediately. A journey lived in real time.
This text is the exact transcription of my daily writings. Rereading them, I didn’t change a thing—just corrected a few mistakes and tweaked some awkward phrasing here and there. Short texts, fitting the format imposed by this kind of app. Writing as if addressing others.
Now, all that was left was to walk. April 18, 2026 – Vézelay.

This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rentals kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything fell into place—I told myself, now’s the time!
Preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan? Not in the end.
The south or not? Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or play it by ear? Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela on this destination (the guide has been updated since).
---/---
You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek! (‘Beefsteak’ for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)

You’ll find here a post with some practical info.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rentals kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything fell into place—I told myself, now’s the time!
Preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan? Not in the end.
The south or not? Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or play it by ear? Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela on this destination (the guide has been updated since).
---/---
You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek! (‘Beefsteak’ for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)

You’ll find here a post with some practical info.
Hi there,
Here’s our account of our trip to Malaysia from September 11th to 27th. I hope our tips can help others as much as this forum has helped us!
Day 0:
Departure from Nantes with a transfer in Amsterdam via KLM (720 €).
Day 1:
We arrive at KLIA1 in the early afternoon. First challenge: figuring out where to pick up our luggage. Turns out the answer is right under our noses—we need to take the airport’s internal metro! Once we’ve got our bags, we withdraw some cash from a Maybank ATM right there. Next up: SIM card! Just outside the arrivals hall, several kiosks offer them. We go for a Celcom 5 GB card (70 RM). Then it’s taxi time to get to KL, in the Bukit Bintang area—about 85 RM in a slightly old taxi with weak air conditioning. We check into our Airbnb apartment, which is clean, more spacious than a hotel room, and—best of all—has a charming balcony with a gorgeous nighttime view!

We end up hanging out on that balcony, reviewing our plans for the next day. After dark, we take the monorail just a short walk away to enjoy our first evening on a rooftop at the 34th floor: Hélipad (Raja Chulan station—you have to enter the Menara Tower at the base of the station) with a panoramic view of the city and its iconic towers.


Finally, we head to Jalan Alor to grab a bite in this super busy street. Big sleep ahead! 😴
Here’s our account of our trip to Malaysia from September 11th to 27th. I hope our tips can help others as much as this forum has helped us!
Day 0:
Departure from Nantes with a transfer in Amsterdam via KLM (720 €).
Day 1:
We arrive at KLIA1 in the early afternoon. First challenge: figuring out where to pick up our luggage. Turns out the answer is right under our noses—we need to take the airport’s internal metro! Once we’ve got our bags, we withdraw some cash from a Maybank ATM right there. Next up: SIM card! Just outside the arrivals hall, several kiosks offer them. We go for a Celcom 5 GB card (70 RM). Then it’s taxi time to get to KL, in the Bukit Bintang area—about 85 RM in a slightly old taxi with weak air conditioning. We check into our Airbnb apartment, which is clean, more spacious than a hotel room, and—best of all—has a charming balcony with a gorgeous nighttime view!

We end up hanging out on that balcony, reviewing our plans for the next day. After dark, we take the monorail just a short walk away to enjoy our first evening on a rooftop at the 34th floor: Hélipad (Raja Chulan station—you have to enter the Menara Tower at the base of the station) with a panoramic view of the city and its iconic towers.


Finally, we head to Jalan Alor to grab a bite in this super busy street. Big sleep ahead! 😴
After the summer of 2022 left me with a sense of unfinished business, here I am back in Swedish Lapland for the summer of 2024, ready to attempt the Sarek crossing again—and this time, tackle 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 known as Europe’s last wild space—I think it’s incredibly inspiring!! The downside of this choice is that there are no resupply options in Sarek, and the Kungsleden isn’t exactly set up for long treks either, so we’ll have to carry a lot of food for the first part with Sarek in mind. But hey, 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!
08/03 - Abisko – 5km before Abiskojaure Some info (guides used for prep, SFT map, sending food to Saltoluokta) 08/04 – 5km before Abiskojaure - on the east shore of Lake Alisjavri 08/05 – East shore of Lake Alisjavri – just before Tjaktja 08/06 – Just before Tjaktja – above the Salka hut via Nallo 08/07 - Salka – just past Singi + side trip to Djalson Lake 08/08 - Singi – Teusajaure 08/09 - Teusajaure - Vakkotavare (end of the first section of the Kungsleden) 08/10 – rest day in Saltoluokta + round trip to the Sámi village of Pietjaure 08/11 – Saltoluokta – Sitojaure 08/12 - Sitojaure - Skierfe - So, Sarek or no Sarek? 08/13 – Skierfe – somewhere above Rapadalen 08/14 – Somewhere above Rapadalen – above the Skarki hut Coming up: 08/15 – Above the Skarki hut - Skarja
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 known as Europe’s last wild space—I think it’s incredibly inspiring!! The downside of this choice is that there are no resupply options in Sarek, and the Kungsleden isn’t exactly set up for long treks either, so we’ll have to carry a lot of food for the first part with Sarek in mind. But hey, 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!
08/03 - Abisko – 5km before Abiskojaure Some info (guides used for prep, SFT map, sending food to Saltoluokta) 08/04 – 5km before Abiskojaure - on the east shore of Lake Alisjavri 08/05 – East shore of Lake Alisjavri – just before Tjaktja 08/06 – Just before Tjaktja – above the Salka hut via Nallo 08/07 - Salka – just past Singi + side trip to Djalson Lake 08/08 - Singi – Teusajaure 08/09 - Teusajaure - Vakkotavare (end of the first section of the Kungsleden) 08/10 – rest day in Saltoluokta + round trip to the Sámi village of Pietjaure 08/11 – Saltoluokta – Sitojaure 08/12 - Sitojaure - Skierfe - So, Sarek or no Sarek? 08/13 – Skierfe – somewhere above Rapadalen 08/14 – Somewhere above Rapadalen – above the Skarki hut Coming up: 08/15 – Above the Skarki hut - Skarja
After a pretty disastrous weather-wise trip to Gran Canaria, we’re hoping this time the sun will shine in Puglia.
It’s not a sure thing, though—the weather’s been awful all over Europe in early May.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16: This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us. The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!! The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that 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’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch. We explore 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 inland. 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 a free parking spot 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.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16: This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us. The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!! The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that 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’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch. We explore 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 inland. 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 a free parking spot 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.

Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions... So, now that I've just finished my Japan travel journal here, I figured it was high time to honor this destination we came back from so enchanted. Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some! Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!
I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to include fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to take her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can slip away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!
Anyway, since I love maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red); we only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband’s newly retired, I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.

In broad strokes, it was very classic:
First, we “settled in” at Luang Prabang (8 days), because we wanted and needed to. From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we know, distances aren’t just about km! Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4,000 Islands while stopping by the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites. We wrapped up with the Bolaven Plateau.
A few practical notes: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having picked up our luggage in Bangkok to check it in for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized. We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. Quick, but to be fair, we were on a “small” plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too crowded in line! At the end of our trip, we didn’t fly out of Paksé but from the nearby airport in Thailand, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), then Bangkok and Paris. You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the (Chinese) train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!
With that intro out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter. To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang
Here’s a little story about my first trip to Japan with my partner.
We went for our first visit from October 29 to November 13, 2024.
I had planned this entire trip back in November 2020, but given the health situation at the time, I had to cancel...
Here’s the classic route we took:
We booked everything ourselves and got a regional pass for the area from Kyoto to Hiroshima. The hotels were reserved 3 months in advance on Book... and Agod... (1030 € for 2 people for 13 nights = 80 €/night). For the flight, we chose a Qatar Airways flight with a layover to break up the long journey (950 € per person). We also got a pass on the same site (Japan-Experience) to take the train connecting Narita Airport to Shibuya Station (the N'EX Narita Express). Since the airport is 75 km from central Tokyo, we opted for this mode of transport, even though there are cheaper alternatives. After reading various posts on VoyageForum, I understood how important it was to have a Welcome Suica card to pay for public transport (subway, tram, bus, boat throughout the country), and we were able to buy one at Narita Airport. It turned out to be super useful! After a long but smooth journey, we found ourselves at Narita Airport in the evening. Even though we had a pass for the Narita Express, we had to go to a counter to make a reservation for the train (mandatory). Then, once we arrived at Shibuya Station, we took the subway for 2 stops and finally reached our hotel, exhausted (Hotel Asia Center of Japan – 270 € for 3 nights with breakfast included).
I had planned this entire trip back in November 2020, but given the health situation at the time, I had to cancel...
Here’s the classic route we took:

We booked everything ourselves and got a regional pass for the area from Kyoto to Hiroshima. The hotels were reserved 3 months in advance on Book... and Agod... (1030 € for 2 people for 13 nights = 80 €/night). For the flight, we chose a Qatar Airways flight with a layover to break up the long journey (950 € per person). We also got a pass on the same site (Japan-Experience) to take the train connecting Narita Airport to Shibuya Station (the N'EX Narita Express). Since the airport is 75 km from central Tokyo, we opted for this mode of transport, even though there are cheaper alternatives. After reading various posts on VoyageForum, I understood how important it was to have a Welcome Suica card to pay for public transport (subway, tram, bus, boat throughout the country), and we were able to buy one at Narita Airport. It turned out to be super useful! After a long but smooth journey, we found ourselves at Narita Airport in the evening. Even though we had a pass for the Narita Express, we had to go to a counter to make a reservation for the train (mandatory). Then, once we arrived at Shibuya Station, we took the subway for 2 stops and finally reached our hotel, exhausted (Hotel Asia Center of Japan – 270 € for 3 nights with breakfast included).

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

Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area). In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:

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

Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area). In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:

To be continued...
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.

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.

Hi everyone!
If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!
Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with: Zero preparation. Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.
Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?
The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!
The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.
So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!
So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!
A little sneak peek?
If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!
Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with: Zero preparation. Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.
Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?
The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!
The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.
So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!
So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!
A little sneak peek?We went to Albania in August 2025.
Our itinerary included adventure (sporty activities, site visits), naps on the beach interspersed with swims, incredible natural sites, and a bit of culture.
I booked all our accommodations on Booking.com. Note: almost all places ask to be paid in cash!! You can obviously withdraw from banks, but the fees are pretty high. Luckily, we had plenty of cash, and the country is very safe. You can pay in euros most of the time, which avoids exchange fees. We started in Tirana. I’d read a really interesting post about Albania’s bunkers (link in my profile). We chose to visit Bunk’Art with a guide from the agency that wrote the post. It was fascinating—not only to better understand the country’s history but also because her grandfather was repressed by the regime, and she shared her family’s experience with us.
Bunkers are everywhere! In Tirana, Bunk’Art is the most interesting and largest. You’ll see the dictator Enver Hoxha’s office, where he would’ve taken refuge in case of an attack on the country. Bring a sweater—it’s really cold in the underground tunnels and their huge corridors. You can visit other bunkers around the country, in Tirana and elsewhere. Almost all are just abandoned. The cable car up Mount Dajti is right next to Bunk’Art. The view is stunning—you realize Tirana is so close to the mountains and the sea... But otherwise, it’s not that exciting for older teens (17 and 19) and their parents. We picked up a rental car in Tirana—it’d be ours for the next three weeks. We used Goalbania’s agency to avoid any hassles. First, there aren’t many cars available in Albania in summer. Second, French credit cards can be a nightmare abroad. So we preferred to sort that out in advance. After Tirana, we headed to Permet. Just a heads-up: the roads are in great condition except in the mountains. And Albanian drivers aren’t stressful to deal with. Though you might suddenly encounter a herd of goats crossing the road—haha—but if you’re not going too fast, it’s fine. In Permet, I’d been dreaming of rafting on the Vjosa, one of Europe’s last wild rivers. And we did it with a local agency! It’s beautiful, accessible to everyone, not too physical but still a bit lively—just how we like it. You can even jump into the river in some spots. In Permet, we also hiked through a canyon and visited a lovely little church.

And we took a workshop to make their local culinary pride: gliko. It’s a jam with whole fruits inside. We’d seen it on Goalbania’s site, and it was really fun. We were with a family where the secret to making gliko has been passed down for generations... Next, we headed to Gjirokastër. A city we loved: its old traditional houses (Skendulli and Zekate), its grand castle, the Ali Pasha Bridge. Along the way, we stopped for artisanal ice cream at a little shop run by a grandmother who’s been making it herself for ages.

One afternoon, my husband *had* to go to the coast in the south, to Ksamil (he’d read it was better than Sarandë). Verdict: we didn’t like it. Parking is a nightmare, the beaches are super noisy and crowded. The sea is packed with jet skis, boats, pedalos, and ropes. Avoid it.
On the other hand, we really liked Himarë, where we went next. We stayed at a campsite where we rented tents with mattresses and sheets inside. Right by the sea, on a low cliff (about 2 meters high). You can hear the waves at night... Magical!! To swim, you either jump straight into the sea (almost from the tent) or climb down a ladder, which you’ll need to climb back up to get out.

I was a little worried the campsite wouldn’t be very comfortable, so afterward, I’d booked a small place in Gjilek. Turns out, the place was really tiny (one room for four, no kitchen) and pretty expensive (over 100 € a night). We’d drive to the beach or restaurants—it’s on a steep slope, so not very accessible. Parking near the sea is tricky. But the (private) beaches were nice—we’d rent an umbrella not too close to the music and spend the day there. We also went to a wilder beach, harder to reach, via a long path. Behind the beach, there’s an amazing canyon where we’d sometimes climb using ropes (already in place, no need to bring your own) over big boulders rolled around by the stream, which must swell a lot in spring. So, the sea in Albania: it’s nice if you like swimming and relaxing, but it’s not the most interesting part of the country. There are so many other amazing things to see and discover—so many stunning sites! Maybe an agency could’ve helped us find more practical accommodations and avoid Ksamil and its surroundings. We left the coast to head to the beautiful city of Berat and its "thousand windows." We explored the city, its fortress, and its icon museum.

Then we discovered the Osum Canyon—it’s incredible. The view from the top is breathtaking. And at the bottom, it’s magical. There’s little water in summer, so rafting isn’t an option. We weren’t tempted by the big-tube descent offered by an agency—it looked fun, but the group had 40 people. We preferred hiking on our own as a family of four. We scouted the area on Google Maps... and found where to descend. We walked in the water, then it rose to our waists, then our shoulders... We weren’t moving fast. And how to get back up?? Eventually, we followed a group with a guide—the path was hard to find.

After that unforgettable hike, we visited the Bogovë Waterfalls. It’s pretty, and we swam, but the water was *really* cold. We passed through Tirana again and then headed to Shkodër. We explored a bit—its charming little streets, the Rozafa Fortress. There’s a tiny museum where you can see *huge* Ottoman stone cannonballs. And they tell you the (charming) story of the young woman who was walled alive in the castle’s foundations to ensure its strength... Shkodër is mostly a stopover to head into the mountains and discover Theth. Our goal: hiking in the Valbona Valley, from Valbona to Theth. We organized the trip ourselves, without an agency, but it took some time to figure everything out. So I’ll save you the trouble—haha. Book your tickets on the Komanilakeferry website. The ticket includes: 🙂 minibus transfer from downtown Shkodër to Koman 🙂 ferry ticket from Koman to Fierze. This ferry ride is *gorgeous*—between mountain slopes covered in pine trees, and sometimes a little house with a few fields...

🙂 minibus ticket from Fierze to Valbona. Now you’re in the mountains! The minibus drops you off near your accommodation—pick one as close as possible to the start of the hike (if that’s your goal!). The ones at the far end of the village add up to 1.5 hours of walking. Our choice: Guesthouse Dioni. The host is really lovely, it’s in the woods, and it’s basic but great. After a day of hiking, we arrived in Theth. What beautiful mountains! Then we explored Theth and the surrounding area. It’s pretty busy, but you can still enjoy the Blue Eye of Theth and its swim. It’s *so* cold! But so beautiful!

🙂 minibus ticket from Theth back to Shkodër. After a night in Shkodër, we drove to Kepi i Rodonit. A guidebook (I forget which one) raved about its beauty. And it *is* beautiful!

But the view is ruined by plastic bottles and other trash in the bushes, along the paths, and of course on the beaches. The only peaceful spot: the private beach at Kepi i Rodonit, which is cleaned. You can rent an umbrella and have lunch there. That’s where we spent our last few days—very relaxing. In short... Albania turned out to be perfect for us and our teens!
I booked all our accommodations on Booking.com. Note: almost all places ask to be paid in cash!! You can obviously withdraw from banks, but the fees are pretty high. Luckily, we had plenty of cash, and the country is very safe. You can pay in euros most of the time, which avoids exchange fees. We started in Tirana. I’d read a really interesting post about Albania’s bunkers (link in my profile). We chose to visit Bunk’Art with a guide from the agency that wrote the post. It was fascinating—not only to better understand the country’s history but also because her grandfather was repressed by the regime, and she shared her family’s experience with us.

Bunkers are everywhere! In Tirana, Bunk’Art is the most interesting and largest. You’ll see the dictator Enver Hoxha’s office, where he would’ve taken refuge in case of an attack on the country. Bring a sweater—it’s really cold in the underground tunnels and their huge corridors. You can visit other bunkers around the country, in Tirana and elsewhere. Almost all are just abandoned. The cable car up Mount Dajti is right next to Bunk’Art. The view is stunning—you realize Tirana is so close to the mountains and the sea... But otherwise, it’s not that exciting for older teens (17 and 19) and their parents. We picked up a rental car in Tirana—it’d be ours for the next three weeks. We used Goalbania’s agency to avoid any hassles. First, there aren’t many cars available in Albania in summer. Second, French credit cards can be a nightmare abroad. So we preferred to sort that out in advance. After Tirana, we headed to Permet. Just a heads-up: the roads are in great condition except in the mountains. And Albanian drivers aren’t stressful to deal with. Though you might suddenly encounter a herd of goats crossing the road—haha—but if you’re not going too fast, it’s fine. In Permet, I’d been dreaming of rafting on the Vjosa, one of Europe’s last wild rivers. And we did it with a local agency! It’s beautiful, accessible to everyone, not too physical but still a bit lively—just how we like it. You can even jump into the river in some spots. In Permet, we also hiked through a canyon and visited a lovely little church.

And we took a workshop to make their local culinary pride: gliko. It’s a jam with whole fruits inside. We’d seen it on Goalbania’s site, and it was really fun. We were with a family where the secret to making gliko has been passed down for generations... Next, we headed to Gjirokastër. A city we loved: its old traditional houses (Skendulli and Zekate), its grand castle, the Ali Pasha Bridge. Along the way, we stopped for artisanal ice cream at a little shop run by a grandmother who’s been making it herself for ages.

One afternoon, my husband *had* to go to the coast in the south, to Ksamil (he’d read it was better than Sarandë). Verdict: we didn’t like it. Parking is a nightmare, the beaches are super noisy and crowded. The sea is packed with jet skis, boats, pedalos, and ropes. Avoid it.
On the other hand, we really liked Himarë, where we went next. We stayed at a campsite where we rented tents with mattresses and sheets inside. Right by the sea, on a low cliff (about 2 meters high). You can hear the waves at night... Magical!! To swim, you either jump straight into the sea (almost from the tent) or climb down a ladder, which you’ll need to climb back up to get out.

I was a little worried the campsite wouldn’t be very comfortable, so afterward, I’d booked a small place in Gjilek. Turns out, the place was really tiny (one room for four, no kitchen) and pretty expensive (over 100 € a night). We’d drive to the beach or restaurants—it’s on a steep slope, so not very accessible. Parking near the sea is tricky. But the (private) beaches were nice—we’d rent an umbrella not too close to the music and spend the day there. We also went to a wilder beach, harder to reach, via a long path. Behind the beach, there’s an amazing canyon where we’d sometimes climb using ropes (already in place, no need to bring your own) over big boulders rolled around by the stream, which must swell a lot in spring. So, the sea in Albania: it’s nice if you like swimming and relaxing, but it’s not the most interesting part of the country. There are so many other amazing things to see and discover—so many stunning sites! Maybe an agency could’ve helped us find more practical accommodations and avoid Ksamil and its surroundings. We left the coast to head to the beautiful city of Berat and its "thousand windows." We explored the city, its fortress, and its icon museum.

Then we discovered the Osum Canyon—it’s incredible. The view from the top is breathtaking. And at the bottom, it’s magical. There’s little water in summer, so rafting isn’t an option. We weren’t tempted by the big-tube descent offered by an agency—it looked fun, but the group had 40 people. We preferred hiking on our own as a family of four. We scouted the area on Google Maps... and found where to descend. We walked in the water, then it rose to our waists, then our shoulders... We weren’t moving fast. And how to get back up?? Eventually, we followed a group with a guide—the path was hard to find.

After that unforgettable hike, we visited the Bogovë Waterfalls. It’s pretty, and we swam, but the water was *really* cold. We passed through Tirana again and then headed to Shkodër. We explored a bit—its charming little streets, the Rozafa Fortress. There’s a tiny museum where you can see *huge* Ottoman stone cannonballs. And they tell you the (charming) story of the young woman who was walled alive in the castle’s foundations to ensure its strength... Shkodër is mostly a stopover to head into the mountains and discover Theth. Our goal: hiking in the Valbona Valley, from Valbona to Theth. We organized the trip ourselves, without an agency, but it took some time to figure everything out. So I’ll save you the trouble—haha. Book your tickets on the Komanilakeferry website. The ticket includes: 🙂 minibus transfer from downtown Shkodër to Koman 🙂 ferry ticket from Koman to Fierze. This ferry ride is *gorgeous*—between mountain slopes covered in pine trees, and sometimes a little house with a few fields...

🙂 minibus ticket from Fierze to Valbona. Now you’re in the mountains! The minibus drops you off near your accommodation—pick one as close as possible to the start of the hike (if that’s your goal!). The ones at the far end of the village add up to 1.5 hours of walking. Our choice: Guesthouse Dioni. The host is really lovely, it’s in the woods, and it’s basic but great. After a day of hiking, we arrived in Theth. What beautiful mountains! Then we explored Theth and the surrounding area. It’s pretty busy, but you can still enjoy the Blue Eye of Theth and its swim. It’s *so* cold! But so beautiful!

🙂 minibus ticket from Theth back to Shkodër. After a night in Shkodër, we drove to Kepi i Rodonit. A guidebook (I forget which one) raved about its beauty. And it *is* beautiful!

But the view is ruined by plastic bottles and other trash in the bushes, along the paths, and of course on the beaches. The only peaceful spot: the private beach at Kepi i Rodonit, which is cleaned. You can rent an umbrella and have lunch there. That’s where we spent our last few days—very relaxing. In short... Albania turned out to be perfect for us and our teens!
A new work assignment means our vacation dates can't stay the same.
We had planned to go to the Canary Islands, but flight prices are skyrocketing with this new holiday schedule.
So, I’m looking for an alternative to Gran Canaria and El Hierro and found two round-trip flights with Wizz Air to Tirana.
398 €, including baggage and seats—perfect!
Plus, the departure and return times are great, which is pretty rare for a low-cost flight!
All that’s left is to rent a car, plan the route, and book accommodations.
With two weeks, we’ll have to make some choices!
Here’s the final itinerary: Shkodra (2 nights), Valbonë (3 nights), Tirana (1 night), Lake Ohrid (1 night), Korçë (1 night), Përmet (1 night), Gjirokastër (1 night), Himarë (2 nights), Berat (2 nights), and Krujë (1 night).
A mix of countryside and small towns, a bit of the Mediterranean, and some mountains!
Late October isn’t the best season, so let’s keep our fingers crossed for the rest...

We had planned to go to the Canary Islands, but flight prices are skyrocketing with this new holiday schedule.
So, I’m looking for an alternative to Gran Canaria and El Hierro and found two round-trip flights with Wizz Air to Tirana.
398 €, including baggage and seats—perfect!
Plus, the departure and return times are great, which is pretty rare for a low-cost flight!
All that’s left is to rent a car, plan the route, and book accommodations.
With two weeks, we’ll have to make some choices!
Here’s the final itinerary: Shkodra (2 nights), Valbonë (3 nights), Tirana (1 night), Lake Ohrid (1 night), Korçë (1 night), Përmet (1 night), Gjirokastër (1 night), Himarë (2 nights), Berat (2 nights), and Krujë (1 night).
A mix of countryside and small towns, a bit of the Mediterranean, and some mountains!
Late October isn’t the best season, so let’s keep our fingers crossed for the rest...

Hi there,
I’m diving into a recap of our loop—pretty classic, really—Denver-Yellowstone-Denver this past summer, from July 24 to August 17. Given the sheer number of trip reports already out there (or in the works), and since I don’t have the writing chops or the photography skills of many of you, I’ll keep it practical—well, I’ll try, at least—to share our take on some of the less-visited parks and spots.
First off, a huge thank you to everyone whose trip reports, blogs, websites, comments, and more helped us put together this itinerary. Looking back, it could’ve been even better optimized: a few disappointments when we missed out on some great discoveries, often because we were short on time. Plenty of reasons to come back to the area!
We’re traveling with our four (almost) teens—18, 16, 14, and nearly 12 years old. To keep the trip enjoyable for everyone, we had to make compromises on both sides: cutting a visit short to spend more time swimming, waking up at dawn, and so on. But logistics also played a big role—things like laundry, grocery shopping, and keeping luggage organized could’ve quickly become time-consuming without a little planning. And honestly, I think we visited every Walmart along the way! Blame it on the lack of fridges in some accommodations and, more importantly, the *very* limited space in the car, which made it impossible to bring a proper cooler. I’ll come back to the car saga later.
For accommodations, this year we alternated between basic cabins in KOA campgrounds and Yellowstone (when staying more than one night in the same place) and hotels. Always with a pool (except in Yellowstone, of course), which let the kids burn off energy—because they always have reserves, even after packed days!—and, let’s be honest, gave us a chance to relax. No Wi-Fi issues either; we all had plans with 25 GB of data (a big thanks to Gilles for the amazing deal at 0.99 €). It worked perfectly, even for texts and calls between phones—no extra charges.
Now, onto our route: as I mentioned, a classic Denver-Yellowstone-Denver loop. To avoid rushing through the parks or spending all our time on the road, we prioritized staying as close to them as possible, with at least two nights in each place. And I’ve got to say, it’s really nice to settle in, even if it’s just for two nights. It also helped us deal with the weather, which wasn’t always great during this trip. The trade-off? With vacation time being limited, some driving days ended up being long. We knew that going in, but since we kept a relaxed pace with no time constraints (don’t ask me for timings—I don’t keep track of the clock on vacation, except in the morning to get everyone up before noon!), we sometimes ended up with marathon days.
With that said, I’ll dive into the trip itself in the next post.
I’m diving into a recap of our loop—pretty classic, really—Denver-Yellowstone-Denver this past summer, from July 24 to August 17. Given the sheer number of trip reports already out there (or in the works), and since I don’t have the writing chops or the photography skills of many of you, I’ll keep it practical—well, I’ll try, at least—to share our take on some of the less-visited parks and spots.
First off, a huge thank you to everyone whose trip reports, blogs, websites, comments, and more helped us put together this itinerary. Looking back, it could’ve been even better optimized: a few disappointments when we missed out on some great discoveries, often because we were short on time. Plenty of reasons to come back to the area!
We’re traveling with our four (almost) teens—18, 16, 14, and nearly 12 years old. To keep the trip enjoyable for everyone, we had to make compromises on both sides: cutting a visit short to spend more time swimming, waking up at dawn, and so on. But logistics also played a big role—things like laundry, grocery shopping, and keeping luggage organized could’ve quickly become time-consuming without a little planning. And honestly, I think we visited every Walmart along the way! Blame it on the lack of fridges in some accommodations and, more importantly, the *very* limited space in the car, which made it impossible to bring a proper cooler. I’ll come back to the car saga later.
For accommodations, this year we alternated between basic cabins in KOA campgrounds and Yellowstone (when staying more than one night in the same place) and hotels. Always with a pool (except in Yellowstone, of course), which let the kids burn off energy—because they always have reserves, even after packed days!—and, let’s be honest, gave us a chance to relax. No Wi-Fi issues either; we all had plans with 25 GB of data (a big thanks to Gilles for the amazing deal at 0.99 €). It worked perfectly, even for texts and calls between phones—no extra charges.
Now, onto our route: as I mentioned, a classic Denver-Yellowstone-Denver loop. To avoid rushing through the parks or spending all our time on the road, we prioritized staying as close to them as possible, with at least two nights in each place. And I’ve got to say, it’s really nice to settle in, even if it’s just for two nights. It also helped us deal with the weather, which wasn’t always great during this trip. The trade-off? With vacation time being limited, some driving days ended up being long. We knew that going in, but since we kept a relaxed pace with no time constraints (don’t ask me for timings—I don’t keep track of the clock on vacation, except in the morning to get everyone up before noon!), we sometimes ended up with marathon days.
With that said, I’ll dive into the trip itself in the next post.
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)
The planned itinerary will be slightly disrupted...
(The version without discussions is here)
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?


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?


And we still haven’t seen everything!
Before setting off for new horizons at the end of this year, it’s time for me to share my trip to Cape Verde this summer 2025.
I particularly love these spontaneous trips, and our stay in Cape Verde is one of those because it was only at the beginning of April that we decided on this getaway, which had been catching our eye for a while, given our love for the mountains.
As always—well, when it’s open—I turned to VF, and I want to immediately thank Marie, aka ptitortue, who helped me a lot in planning this trip through her travel journals and our exchanges!
Because Cape Verde is both small and vast! We decided not to rush from one airport to another, to enjoy the places and the people, but also to relax, since the work backlog from being stuck in May (see my previous travel journal 😅) had to be caught up on in June.
So, 4 islands will be our winners from 06/28 to 07/19:
Santiago first for logistical reasons, as round-trip flights from the capital Praia were the cheapest (650 €/person from Lyon via Lisbon with TAP, still!)
São Vicente, because it’s the gateway to the next one but ultimately more than that...
Santo Antão, pretty much the main goal of the trip since Marie (and the photos) had really sold it to me.
And finally, Sal Island, for some rest—a non-negotiable condition for my other half—and we’ll see that I should’ve listened to Marie...
That said, what a chatterbox I am—buckle up, flight attendants at the doors, off we go on new beautiful escapes! (Thanks to Sophie for the easy loan)
Last note for my eager fan club 😏: yes, there will be alcohol—how could there not be in the land of grogue!
It starts here:
https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=10790234;a=10790234

I particularly love these spontaneous trips, and our stay in Cape Verde is one of those because it was only at the beginning of April that we decided on this getaway, which had been catching our eye for a while, given our love for the mountains.
As always—well, when it’s open—I turned to VF, and I want to immediately thank Marie, aka ptitortue, who helped me a lot in planning this trip through her travel journals and our exchanges!
Because Cape Verde is both small and vast! We decided not to rush from one airport to another, to enjoy the places and the people, but also to relax, since the work backlog from being stuck in May (see my previous travel journal 😅) had to be caught up on in June.
So, 4 islands will be our winners from 06/28 to 07/19:
Santiago first for logistical reasons, as round-trip flights from the capital Praia were the cheapest (650 €/person from Lyon via Lisbon with TAP, still!)
São Vicente, because it’s the gateway to the next one but ultimately more than that...
Santo Antão, pretty much the main goal of the trip since Marie (and the photos) had really sold it to me.
And finally, Sal Island, for some rest—a non-negotiable condition for my other half—and we’ll see that I should’ve listened to Marie...
That said, what a chatterbox I am—buckle up, flight attendants at the doors, off we go on new beautiful escapes! (Thanks to Sophie for the easy loan)
Last note for my eager fan club 😏: yes, there will be alcohol—how could there not be in the land of grogue!
It starts here:
https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=10790234;a=10790234

Hello,
Since I enjoy not only the countryside but also everything related to rail travel, I’m starting this photo thread dedicated to trains in Thailand (I’d guess most of us have taken one at some point...).
Feel free to post your pictures here as long as they fit the theme: rolling stock**, stations**, platforms, tracks (even without a train on them), technical equipment, engineering structures (bridges, viaducts), etc.—all in Thailand.
For each photo, I’ll (or you can) note the station or line where it was taken.
Comments and questions are welcome.
* train ** interiors or exteriors
All aboard!
* train ** interiors or exteriors
All aboard!
As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I inherited my love of travel from my parents and some of my grandparents. A strong passion, but one that was unfortunately limited by our family’s modest resources. Back then, living in northern Alsace, a simple trip to the southern part of the region—with the Wine Route as our destination—felt like an extraordinary journey to a land of plenty for the little boy I was in the late 60s and early 70s.
Everything seemed so huge when you were still just a kid.
Back then, I was overwhelmed by countless sensations—I was already highly sensitive, with a keen mind and a nose and taste buds that were developing like a pro’s. Which, as I’d later realize, wasn’t always an advantage.

Those magical days always began with a gentle late-spring or midsummer morning. The interior of the white Peugeot 404, license plate 210 LZ 67, had already soaked up the sun before the engine purred to life, and the cabin gave off a scent I could still recognize today—a fragrance I found so pleasant. Back then, I had no idea it was just the smell of warm plastic from the car’s interior. Yes, the scents of the 404 on sunny days became my madeleine de Proust... What’s more, the whole family was unusually cheerful because those moments of relaxation and leisure were rare. Everyone worked, and no one had an easy job or was well paid. Without the *Trente Glorieuses*, these experiences might never have happened.

Once we crossed the canton’s borders, I felt like I was light-years away from my everyday surroundings, and every kilometer plunged me deeper into *terra incognita*. It was thrilling. Far from my so-called "medium-sized" town, wheat fields, cornfields, and cabbage patches stretched out, punctuated by tall poles connected by long wires and topped with vegetation—like giant clotheslines without laundry, where magical beanstalks might grow to touch the sky. Back then, I was still far from tasting their product, which was simply beer. At the time, there was still a significant local hop production. Fun fact: it wasn’t until 2002 that Anglo-Saxon scientists proved hops and cannabis belong to the same biological family.
After the fields, the landscape took another step up as it rolled past the little boy’s eyes, often glued to the windows. First came modest hills, then a succession of rolling slopes that soon formed an unbroken chain. Their 700 meters in altitude felt like Himalayan peaks to me—impressive, inert giants, a whole new world. Gazing at them, an intense emotion welled up somewhere between my stomach and lungs, nearly taking my breath away. What mysteries, what treasures did these heights hold? And then there were the cherries on top—the crowning touch that made the scene even more magical: proud, majestic castles perched on the summits like impassive sentinels. Monuments from the past, yet firmly rooted in the present on their rocky spurs. The little boy’s eyes sparkled—he’d been given a castle for Christmas, complete with battlements, towers, a drawbridge, and fully armed knights. He’d watched and lived *Ivanhoe* on the only French TV channel that existed back then.
Only once did my paternal grandfather join us on one of these trips. A tall, intelligent man with a face that could shift from stern to mischievous, clearly full of humor and charisma. Sadly, his relationship with alcohol had taken a toll on his life and, by extension, those of his loved ones. He had a strong personality—if his boss crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch him, which meant he went through a lot of different jobs. Back then, you could quit one job and easily find another. It was quite something to see him in his final stages, hallucinating pink elephants and even drinking perfume when he had nothing else left. The last time I saw him, he’d slipped away from the doctors and nurses while hospitalized in pretty bad shape—at least, I assume his liver was the issue. We were sitting down for a family lunch when the door burst open, and there he stood in his pajamas, eyes twinkling with mischief, clearly pleased with the dramatic entrance. That theatrical moment didn’t spare us from burying him a few months later at the age of 71. One day, my mother told me the family doctor had quietly remarked that it was a shame—with his robust constitution, he could’ve lived to be a hundred. Yes, the family doctor—this was the man who’d come treat you any day, at almost any hour, just for a phone call. It really existed, it’s not a myth!
That day, his wife—my paternal grandmother—was also along for the ride. Everyone agreed that Jeannette was a good woman. She worked as a waitress at *Le Tigre*, the biggest brasserie in town, right in the center. Most customers preferred to be served by her, including local dignitaries and even the mayor. As a kid, I didn’t find her very fun, open, or warm—she seemed a bit stern. Back then, women in their fifties already had the face and build of grandmothers. Same went for men, don’t get me wrong. I had no idea about the struggles she faced because of her husband. I didn’t know that 30 years earlier, she’d had to flee Alsace while pregnant, under threat from Nazi fighter-bombers. I didn’t know she’d had several miscarriages, and that my father—her only surviving child, born prematurely in March 1940 at the other end of France—weighed less than a kilo at birth and was so tiny he could fit in a shoebox. Hard to imagine he’d grow into a strapping man nearly 1.80 meters tall, tipping the scales at 100 kilos. When you come back from summer camp in early August and ask why she didn’t pick you up with your parents, and they gently tell you she’s "in heaven," you don’t realize she passed away at 54 after suffering greatly from stomach cancer that had spread.
Back to that family outing, that enchanted parenthesis. I even remembered where we’d had lunch when I passed through Dambach-la-Ville decades later. One of those charming, flower-filled towns Alsace produces in abundance—and preserves so well. This one sits high on a hill, and I was a bit stunned on the parking lot because the view stretched far, revealing the Alsace plain below—its fields, villages, hills, and forests. The world seemed so vast and enticing that day, even though I was only glimpsing a tiny fraction of it.

The region was already very touristy, but I wouldn’t notice the downsides until much later. That Sunday noon, I discovered a large restaurant filled with diners. I can still see the enormous piece of meat they served me, decorated with a little wooden skewer topped with a flag. I kept that one for a long time. Those were the golden days of rich, flowing, thick sauces—so flavorful—and the era of the world’s best fries, made on the spot with the best potatoes. To top it off, I was *exceptionally* allowed a small bottle of apple juice, Orangina, or—even better if possible—Sinalco. Yes, Sinalco—like Orangina, but better. A brand that must’ve disappeared in the 70s, but why, and what a shame! Since then, Orangina’s little bubbles have taken the brand to the other side of the planet—it’s now Japanese.
Year after year, I’d eagerly await that ecstatic moment when the most beautiful castle in Alsace, the Haut-Koenigsbourg, appeared in my field of vision. The perfect model, the archetype that blended into the landscape at the height of a child’s dreams. The trip home always felt like a reality check—less jarring than an alarm clock, but more diffuse and melancholic. From then on, there was only one wish: *When do we leave again?*

Those magical days always began with a gentle late-spring or midsummer morning. The interior of the white Peugeot 404, license plate 210 LZ 67, had already soaked up the sun before the engine purred to life, and the cabin gave off a scent I could still recognize today—a fragrance I found so pleasant. Back then, I had no idea it was just the smell of warm plastic from the car’s interior. Yes, the scents of the 404 on sunny days became my madeleine de Proust... What’s more, the whole family was unusually cheerful because those moments of relaxation and leisure were rare. Everyone worked, and no one had an easy job or was well paid. Without the *Trente Glorieuses*, these experiences might never have happened.

Once we crossed the canton’s borders, I felt like I was light-years away from my everyday surroundings, and every kilometer plunged me deeper into *terra incognita*. It was thrilling. Far from my so-called "medium-sized" town, wheat fields, cornfields, and cabbage patches stretched out, punctuated by tall poles connected by long wires and topped with vegetation—like giant clotheslines without laundry, where magical beanstalks might grow to touch the sky. Back then, I was still far from tasting their product, which was simply beer. At the time, there was still a significant local hop production. Fun fact: it wasn’t until 2002 that Anglo-Saxon scientists proved hops and cannabis belong to the same biological family.
After the fields, the landscape took another step up as it rolled past the little boy’s eyes, often glued to the windows. First came modest hills, then a succession of rolling slopes that soon formed an unbroken chain. Their 700 meters in altitude felt like Himalayan peaks to me—impressive, inert giants, a whole new world. Gazing at them, an intense emotion welled up somewhere between my stomach and lungs, nearly taking my breath away. What mysteries, what treasures did these heights hold? And then there were the cherries on top—the crowning touch that made the scene even more magical: proud, majestic castles perched on the summits like impassive sentinels. Monuments from the past, yet firmly rooted in the present on their rocky spurs. The little boy’s eyes sparkled—he’d been given a castle for Christmas, complete with battlements, towers, a drawbridge, and fully armed knights. He’d watched and lived *Ivanhoe* on the only French TV channel that existed back then.
Only once did my paternal grandfather join us on one of these trips. A tall, intelligent man with a face that could shift from stern to mischievous, clearly full of humor and charisma. Sadly, his relationship with alcohol had taken a toll on his life and, by extension, those of his loved ones. He had a strong personality—if his boss crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch him, which meant he went through a lot of different jobs. Back then, you could quit one job and easily find another. It was quite something to see him in his final stages, hallucinating pink elephants and even drinking perfume when he had nothing else left. The last time I saw him, he’d slipped away from the doctors and nurses while hospitalized in pretty bad shape—at least, I assume his liver was the issue. We were sitting down for a family lunch when the door burst open, and there he stood in his pajamas, eyes twinkling with mischief, clearly pleased with the dramatic entrance. That theatrical moment didn’t spare us from burying him a few months later at the age of 71. One day, my mother told me the family doctor had quietly remarked that it was a shame—with his robust constitution, he could’ve lived to be a hundred. Yes, the family doctor—this was the man who’d come treat you any day, at almost any hour, just for a phone call. It really existed, it’s not a myth!
That day, his wife—my paternal grandmother—was also along for the ride. Everyone agreed that Jeannette was a good woman. She worked as a waitress at *Le Tigre*, the biggest brasserie in town, right in the center. Most customers preferred to be served by her, including local dignitaries and even the mayor. As a kid, I didn’t find her very fun, open, or warm—she seemed a bit stern. Back then, women in their fifties already had the face and build of grandmothers. Same went for men, don’t get me wrong. I had no idea about the struggles she faced because of her husband. I didn’t know that 30 years earlier, she’d had to flee Alsace while pregnant, under threat from Nazi fighter-bombers. I didn’t know she’d had several miscarriages, and that my father—her only surviving child, born prematurely in March 1940 at the other end of France—weighed less than a kilo at birth and was so tiny he could fit in a shoebox. Hard to imagine he’d grow into a strapping man nearly 1.80 meters tall, tipping the scales at 100 kilos. When you come back from summer camp in early August and ask why she didn’t pick you up with your parents, and they gently tell you she’s "in heaven," you don’t realize she passed away at 54 after suffering greatly from stomach cancer that had spread.
Back to that family outing, that enchanted parenthesis. I even remembered where we’d had lunch when I passed through Dambach-la-Ville decades later. One of those charming, flower-filled towns Alsace produces in abundance—and preserves so well. This one sits high on a hill, and I was a bit stunned on the parking lot because the view stretched far, revealing the Alsace plain below—its fields, villages, hills, and forests. The world seemed so vast and enticing that day, even though I was only glimpsing a tiny fraction of it.

The region was already very touristy, but I wouldn’t notice the downsides until much later. That Sunday noon, I discovered a large restaurant filled with diners. I can still see the enormous piece of meat they served me, decorated with a little wooden skewer topped with a flag. I kept that one for a long time. Those were the golden days of rich, flowing, thick sauces—so flavorful—and the era of the world’s best fries, made on the spot with the best potatoes. To top it off, I was *exceptionally* allowed a small bottle of apple juice, Orangina, or—even better if possible—Sinalco. Yes, Sinalco—like Orangina, but better. A brand that must’ve disappeared in the 70s, but why, and what a shame! Since then, Orangina’s little bubbles have taken the brand to the other side of the planet—it’s now Japanese.
Year after year, I’d eagerly await that ecstatic moment when the most beautiful castle in Alsace, the Haut-Koenigsbourg, appeared in my field of vision. The perfect model, the archetype that blended into the landscape at the height of a child’s dreams. The trip home always felt like a reality check—less jarring than an alarm clock, but more diffuse and melancholic. From then on, there was only one wish: *When do we leave again?*
Hi there,
Here’s a recap of a trek through the Balkans covering three countries: Albania, Montenegro, and Kosovo. I was with a friend, and we didn’t do the full route (only one day in Kosovo).
It was a wonderful trek through snow-capped mountains and vast flower-filled meadows, meeting incredibly welcoming people.
At the end of the travel journal, I’ll share what I loved and what I liked less.
Day 1: Flight from Paris-Beauvais to Tirana with Wizz Air.
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.
Then, a transfer the same day to Shköder, about a 2-hour bus ride. Cost: 10 € per person. Tickets bought directly on the bus. We spent the night in Shköder at a very clean guesthouse, Open Doors B&B. It had a small balcony overlooking the city.
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.

Day 2: Bus ride to Theth, about 1,100 meters in elevation gain, the starting point for our hike the next day.
The trip took 2 hours and 40 minutes with a break in the middle. The bus was affordable, but taxis also make the trip—though they’re very expensive.

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

The family was adorable. The husband is a handyman and built almost everything himself. Their baby is named "Sky"—such a cute name, right? :-) Throughout the trek, I found the guesthouses very clean, and the hosts think of everything—no need to bring soap or shampoo; they provide it. Lunch in Theth at a traditional restaurant on the main road. We tried "Tave Dheu," an Albanian dish with beef, cabbage (very common), and cottage cheese. Delicious but not quite filling enough. For dessert, a honey cake that was perfectly moist—such a treat! Desserts like this are rare; sometimes they serve watermelon instead. We took a small private bus for 5 € to the "Blue Eye" parking lot, then walked for about 45 minutes to reach a stunning natural site—a kind of lagoon with incredibly blue water. The bravest can swim, but the water’s freezing!



That evening, we dined at "La Montagne Blanche"—excellent! A delightful mix of grilled meats with potatoes and grilled peppers. Some watermelon slices (which I’m not a fan of) and the famous Raki, a brandy served in Turkey and the Balkans! It was my first time drinking brandy "bottoms up." 😉
To be continued... 😉
Day 1: Flight from Paris-Beauvais to Tirana with Wizz Air.
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.Then, a transfer the same day to Shköder, about a 2-hour bus ride. Cost: 10 € per person. Tickets bought directly on the bus. We spent the night in Shköder at a very clean guesthouse, Open Doors B&B. It had a small balcony overlooking the city.
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.

Day 2: Bus ride to Theth, about 1,100 meters in elevation gain, the starting point for our hike the next day.
The trip took 2 hours and 40 minutes with a break in the middle. The bus was affordable, but taxis also make the trip—though they’re very expensive.

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

The family was adorable. The husband is a handyman and built almost everything himself. Their baby is named "Sky"—such a cute name, right? :-) Throughout the trek, I found the guesthouses very clean, and the hosts think of everything—no need to bring soap or shampoo; they provide it. Lunch in Theth at a traditional restaurant on the main road. We tried "Tave Dheu," an Albanian dish with beef, cabbage (very common), and cottage cheese. Delicious but not quite filling enough. For dessert, a honey cake that was perfectly moist—such a treat! Desserts like this are rare; sometimes they serve watermelon instead. We took a small private bus for 5 € to the "Blue Eye" parking lot, then walked for about 45 minutes to reach a stunning natural site—a kind of lagoon with incredibly blue water. The bravest can swim, but the water’s freezing!



That evening, we dined at "La Montagne Blanche"—excellent! A delightful mix of grilled meats with potatoes and grilled peppers. Some watermelon slices (which I’m not a fan of) and the famous Raki, a brandy served in Turkey and the Balkans! It was my first time drinking brandy "bottoms up." 😉
To be continued... 😉
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
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
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.



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.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.

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.

Lanzarote Travel Journal
Trip Planning My partner and I are heading to the Canary Islands for a week at the end of September, specifically to Lanzarote. We chose this island over the more crowded ones for its volcanic landscape and the variety of hikes it offers. I booked everything through Expedia: our hotel stay, car rental, and Ryanair flight tickets departing from Marseille. It was the only way to get a direct flight. To make getting around easier during our stay, I picked a hotel located in the center of the island from the wide selection available. It’s part of the Barceló chain, specifically the "Barceló Teguise Beach Adults Only" in Teguise Beach, which turned out to be an excellent choice.
The Trip
Sunday, September 21 - Monday, September 22 Departure It’s 2:15 PM, and we’re at the Avignon TGV station. Danielle picked us up earlier due to the weather—thunderstorms and heavy rain all the way to the station. The TGV was on time, and it only took 30 minutes to reach Marseille Saint-Charles. The shuttle to the airport is quick and convenient, right behind the station. The bus leaves for the airport in the middle of the storm, with flooded roads and cars stuck in some spots. We get soaked making our way to the terminal. Two hours to wait before the flight. The plane finally takes off at midnight, but just before landing, the pilot announces that the destination airport is closed, and we’re being diverted to Tenerife. Ryanair will re-route us as soon as possible. We end up waiting 2 hours, and Ryanair kindly gives us a 4 € voucher. We re-board around 5:15 AM and take off at 6:00 AM. About 45 minutes to reach Lanzarote. After collecting our luggage, we head to the car rental desk. The counter in the terminal is closed, and we’re directed to parking lot P4—it takes us a while to find it. I’m a bit worried about the rental company’s reaction since the car was supposed to be picked up 7 hours earlier, but it’s not a problem. A woman next to us is furious because she’s in the same situation, and her rental was canceled. Anne-Marie translates for her, but nothing changes. We pick up a brand-new Toyota Aigo and head to the hotel. After checking in, we cross the garden, walking alongside the large pool to reach our room. A lovely first-floor room with a jacuzzi and a sea view. It’s early, so we head to breakfast—a generously stocked and varied buffet with everything you could want. Afterward, we drive to Cueva de los Verdes, but it’s packed with people and a long wait. We decide to come back another day. Next, we visit Mirador Del Rio. This rocky viewpoint at the edge of the island has breathtaking cliffs plunging 500 meters into the ocean. The view is stunning and impressive. A panoramic bar lets you cool off while enjoying the scenery. We return to the hotel for a short walk around the neighborhood and enjoy the beautiful pool with its pleasant water temperature. Relaxing by the pool, sun loungers, and all. In the evening, a very varied buffet at the restaurant. Then early to bed to recover from the sleepless night before.
Tuesday, September 23 After a restful night, we enjoy another varied and hearty breakfast. The terrace seating is very pleasant. We take an inland road leading to Timanfaya National Park. The road near the park runs alongside vineyards where the vines are surrounded by lava stone walls to protect them from the prevailing winds. Our first stop is at the visitor center, where the island’s volcanic activity is well-documented. Next, we stop at an area where you can take a short camel ride—two seats are installed on either side of the camel’s hump. This little ride offers a great view of the volcanic landscape from a higher vantage point. A fair price of 11 € per seat for a 20-minute ride. We then head to the park entrance via the road leading to the parking lot, where only authorized buses can take the winding route inside the park. It’s crowded, and we wait about 45 minutes with several stops before reaching the parking lot. We board the bus, and the route offers beautiful views of this volcanic area and its many craters. The journey is very interesting, with several stops for photos. At the parking lot, a guide shows us how the heat from the rocks beneath the surface can ignite dry vegetation. Water poured into holes in the ground immediately creates geysers and jets of steam. The building next to the parking lot has a restaurant where meat is cooked using the heat from a well dug into the volcanic rock. On our way back, we drive to Playa Blanca, a seaside town with a small sandy beach.
Back at the hotel in the late afternoon for dinner.
Wednesday, September 24 We wake up early and have a quick breakfast—few people are around at this hour. Two days ago, we booked a 10:00 AM visit to Los Verdes, lava tunnels created by eruptions and lava flows from the La Corona volcano, which extended all the way to the coast. When the lava came into contact with the air, it solidified on the surface while continuing to flow underneath. The lava tunnels stretch for 8 kilometers to the volcano, but we only walk one kilometer. The inside of the tunnel is impressive, with narrow passages and larger chambers. You can see traces left by the flowing liquid lava—varied colors and twisted shapes. At the end of the path, a large chamber has been turned into a concert hall with perfect acoustics. Next, we visit Jameo Del Agua. This is a continuation of the lava tunnel, developed by Manrique. There are beautifully designed bar and restaurant areas, as well as an underground lake where you can see small blind white crabs—a protected species in this very pure water. Higher up, there’s a lovely space with a central pool that could double as a swimming area, surrounded by beautifully designed white pathways that contrast with the blue water. Further on, you reach a large space inside the lava tunnel, set up as a performance hall with perfect acoustics. Stairs let you view this beautiful space from above. A gap in the lava landscape reveals the ocean on the horizon. We head back toward the village of Yé, at the foot of the La Corona volcano. A 160-meter walk from the church, a path crosses vineyard plots and then climbs to the top of the volcano’s crater in about 30 minutes. It’s the island’s highest volcano. When you reach the edge of the crater, you see how deep it is, with steep slopes inside forming a large circular opening. The place is breathtaking and awe-inspiring. We drive back to the hotel via a road that climbs quickly, offering a beautiful view of the island’s northern part.
Thursday, September 25 After another enjoyable and varied breakfast, we head to the center of the island toward the volcano park and stop at a roadside parking lot where a path leads to the Montana Cuervo volcano. This is a crater that opened on one side. During an eruption, an explosion created a breach in the crater. Huge blocks of rock were thrown dozens of meters away. The path goes through the breach and descends into the crater, allowing you to walk around it. It’s impressive, and you really feel small and fragile in this environment. The crater walls, with their different colors, highlight the rock formations. The crater is surrounded by a sea of lava with sharp, jagged rocks. You can walk around the outside of the crater, but it’s not very interesting. We then head to the west coast, stopping at a spot with a small green lake next to a beautiful black sand beach. Next, we stop at Salinas de Janubio, a lovely viewpoint overlooking the salt marshes with different water colors. A small shop sells various local products. We then head to the famous Papagayo beach. The road ends at a booth where they charge 3 € to continue. From here, the land is private, and you have to pay to drive down a 3-kilometer rocky dirt road. Quite a few cars are driving along it, kicking up clouds of dust. The car gets a dusty makeover. We arrive at a large parking area, with several paths leading to different small beaches. We go to Papagayo, a small blonde sand beach surrounded by red rocks. The beach slopes gently into the water, which is a pleasant temperature. The setting is charming and peaceful. We stay for a while before heading back to the hotel.
Friday, September 26 We start with a visit to the César Manrique Foundation in Tahiche. This was originally one of his homes. The modern construction spans several levels and is integrated into the lava flow, using the gaps to create living spaces. Large windows make the rooms bright and open to the scenery. The place is pleasant, with flower-filled gardens outside. It’s well worth a visit. Next, we drive to Las Grietas, where a path leads to a narrow crack in the volcanic rock, forming a tight passage where only one person can walk at a time. The passage isn’t very long, but progress is slow due to the endless selfies being taken here. We then stop at Casa Del Camposino, a renovated farm that houses several artisan shops. We taste a local wine recommended by a charming woman and buy two bottles of Lanzarote red wine on her advice. Now, we head to Tamara beach, a beautiful and wide beach at the foot of high cliffs. There are always great waves here, making it a surfer’s paradise. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at the cactus garden, César Manrique’s final creation. Designed with a great sense of aesthetics around an old windmill, it features 4,500 varieties of cacti in various shapes, all in a beautiful setting. We return to the hotel in the late afternoon for the evening.
Saturday, September 27 After another hearty breakfast, we head north to Haria. We stumble upon another of César Manrique’s homes, where he lived for a long time. This house is more traditional than the previous one but still has large, modern, and very pleasant rooms. At the back of the garden is his large studio, where he created his works. Next, we visit the craft market—this was our original plan. Various stalls offer local items, and it’s very crowded. No room at the café terraces to sit down. We then return to Famara beach for a long stay. There are always great waves here, much to the surfers’ delight. The water temperature is pleasant, and we enjoy it. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at a gas station to refill the car, which has been very fuel-efficient. Gas is also much cheaper here than in France—1.16 € per liter of SP95. We also wash the car, which was very dusty after the long dirt road to Papagayo beach. At the hotel, we enjoy a farewell cocktail before dinner.
Sunday, September 28 We spend the morning by the hotel pool before checking out at noon. For lunch, we go to a restaurant called "Dona Lola," near the hotel, with a terrace offering a view of the coast. We order tuna carpaccio, which is delicious. We then head to the airport, just 15 minutes away. We return the rental car and go to the airport. A long line to check in our luggage. The return flight is on time. A shuttle bus takes us to Saint-Charles station. We then head to our overnight rental. The boulevard slopes down, making it easier with the suitcases. The rental is between the old port and the train station. Once there, we pick up the keys and make one last effort to carry the luggage up to the third floor. The studio is nice, clean, and simply equipped—perfect for one night.
Trip Planning My partner and I are heading to the Canary Islands for a week at the end of September, specifically to Lanzarote. We chose this island over the more crowded ones for its volcanic landscape and the variety of hikes it offers. I booked everything through Expedia: our hotel stay, car rental, and Ryanair flight tickets departing from Marseille. It was the only way to get a direct flight. To make getting around easier during our stay, I picked a hotel located in the center of the island from the wide selection available. It’s part of the Barceló chain, specifically the "Barceló Teguise Beach Adults Only" in Teguise Beach, which turned out to be an excellent choice.
The Trip
Sunday, September 21 - Monday, September 22 Departure It’s 2:15 PM, and we’re at the Avignon TGV station. Danielle picked us up earlier due to the weather—thunderstorms and heavy rain all the way to the station. The TGV was on time, and it only took 30 minutes to reach Marseille Saint-Charles. The shuttle to the airport is quick and convenient, right behind the station. The bus leaves for the airport in the middle of the storm, with flooded roads and cars stuck in some spots. We get soaked making our way to the terminal. Two hours to wait before the flight. The plane finally takes off at midnight, but just before landing, the pilot announces that the destination airport is closed, and we’re being diverted to Tenerife. Ryanair will re-route us as soon as possible. We end up waiting 2 hours, and Ryanair kindly gives us a 4 € voucher. We re-board around 5:15 AM and take off at 6:00 AM. About 45 minutes to reach Lanzarote. After collecting our luggage, we head to the car rental desk. The counter in the terminal is closed, and we’re directed to parking lot P4—it takes us a while to find it. I’m a bit worried about the rental company’s reaction since the car was supposed to be picked up 7 hours earlier, but it’s not a problem. A woman next to us is furious because she’s in the same situation, and her rental was canceled. Anne-Marie translates for her, but nothing changes. We pick up a brand-new Toyota Aigo and head to the hotel. After checking in, we cross the garden, walking alongside the large pool to reach our room. A lovely first-floor room with a jacuzzi and a sea view. It’s early, so we head to breakfast—a generously stocked and varied buffet with everything you could want. Afterward, we drive to Cueva de los Verdes, but it’s packed with people and a long wait. We decide to come back another day. Next, we visit Mirador Del Rio. This rocky viewpoint at the edge of the island has breathtaking cliffs plunging 500 meters into the ocean. The view is stunning and impressive. A panoramic bar lets you cool off while enjoying the scenery. We return to the hotel for a short walk around the neighborhood and enjoy the beautiful pool with its pleasant water temperature. Relaxing by the pool, sun loungers, and all. In the evening, a very varied buffet at the restaurant. Then early to bed to recover from the sleepless night before.
Tuesday, September 23 After a restful night, we enjoy another varied and hearty breakfast. The terrace seating is very pleasant. We take an inland road leading to Timanfaya National Park. The road near the park runs alongside vineyards where the vines are surrounded by lava stone walls to protect them from the prevailing winds. Our first stop is at the visitor center, where the island’s volcanic activity is well-documented. Next, we stop at an area where you can take a short camel ride—two seats are installed on either side of the camel’s hump. This little ride offers a great view of the volcanic landscape from a higher vantage point. A fair price of 11 € per seat for a 20-minute ride. We then head to the park entrance via the road leading to the parking lot, where only authorized buses can take the winding route inside the park. It’s crowded, and we wait about 45 minutes with several stops before reaching the parking lot. We board the bus, and the route offers beautiful views of this volcanic area and its many craters. The journey is very interesting, with several stops for photos. At the parking lot, a guide shows us how the heat from the rocks beneath the surface can ignite dry vegetation. Water poured into holes in the ground immediately creates geysers and jets of steam. The building next to the parking lot has a restaurant where meat is cooked using the heat from a well dug into the volcanic rock. On our way back, we drive to Playa Blanca, a seaside town with a small sandy beach.
Back at the hotel in the late afternoon for dinner.
Wednesday, September 24 We wake up early and have a quick breakfast—few people are around at this hour. Two days ago, we booked a 10:00 AM visit to Los Verdes, lava tunnels created by eruptions and lava flows from the La Corona volcano, which extended all the way to the coast. When the lava came into contact with the air, it solidified on the surface while continuing to flow underneath. The lava tunnels stretch for 8 kilometers to the volcano, but we only walk one kilometer. The inside of the tunnel is impressive, with narrow passages and larger chambers. You can see traces left by the flowing liquid lava—varied colors and twisted shapes. At the end of the path, a large chamber has been turned into a concert hall with perfect acoustics. Next, we visit Jameo Del Agua. This is a continuation of the lava tunnel, developed by Manrique. There are beautifully designed bar and restaurant areas, as well as an underground lake where you can see small blind white crabs—a protected species in this very pure water. Higher up, there’s a lovely space with a central pool that could double as a swimming area, surrounded by beautifully designed white pathways that contrast with the blue water. Further on, you reach a large space inside the lava tunnel, set up as a performance hall with perfect acoustics. Stairs let you view this beautiful space from above. A gap in the lava landscape reveals the ocean on the horizon. We head back toward the village of Yé, at the foot of the La Corona volcano. A 160-meter walk from the church, a path crosses vineyard plots and then climbs to the top of the volcano’s crater in about 30 minutes. It’s the island’s highest volcano. When you reach the edge of the crater, you see how deep it is, with steep slopes inside forming a large circular opening. The place is breathtaking and awe-inspiring. We drive back to the hotel via a road that climbs quickly, offering a beautiful view of the island’s northern part.
Thursday, September 25 After another enjoyable and varied breakfast, we head to the center of the island toward the volcano park and stop at a roadside parking lot where a path leads to the Montana Cuervo volcano. This is a crater that opened on one side. During an eruption, an explosion created a breach in the crater. Huge blocks of rock were thrown dozens of meters away. The path goes through the breach and descends into the crater, allowing you to walk around it. It’s impressive, and you really feel small and fragile in this environment. The crater walls, with their different colors, highlight the rock formations. The crater is surrounded by a sea of lava with sharp, jagged rocks. You can walk around the outside of the crater, but it’s not very interesting. We then head to the west coast, stopping at a spot with a small green lake next to a beautiful black sand beach. Next, we stop at Salinas de Janubio, a lovely viewpoint overlooking the salt marshes with different water colors. A small shop sells various local products. We then head to the famous Papagayo beach. The road ends at a booth where they charge 3 € to continue. From here, the land is private, and you have to pay to drive down a 3-kilometer rocky dirt road. Quite a few cars are driving along it, kicking up clouds of dust. The car gets a dusty makeover. We arrive at a large parking area, with several paths leading to different small beaches. We go to Papagayo, a small blonde sand beach surrounded by red rocks. The beach slopes gently into the water, which is a pleasant temperature. The setting is charming and peaceful. We stay for a while before heading back to the hotel.
Friday, September 26 We start with a visit to the César Manrique Foundation in Tahiche. This was originally one of his homes. The modern construction spans several levels and is integrated into the lava flow, using the gaps to create living spaces. Large windows make the rooms bright and open to the scenery. The place is pleasant, with flower-filled gardens outside. It’s well worth a visit. Next, we drive to Las Grietas, where a path leads to a narrow crack in the volcanic rock, forming a tight passage where only one person can walk at a time. The passage isn’t very long, but progress is slow due to the endless selfies being taken here. We then stop at Casa Del Camposino, a renovated farm that houses several artisan shops. We taste a local wine recommended by a charming woman and buy two bottles of Lanzarote red wine on her advice. Now, we head to Tamara beach, a beautiful and wide beach at the foot of high cliffs. There are always great waves here, making it a surfer’s paradise. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at the cactus garden, César Manrique’s final creation. Designed with a great sense of aesthetics around an old windmill, it features 4,500 varieties of cacti in various shapes, all in a beautiful setting. We return to the hotel in the late afternoon for the evening.
Saturday, September 27 After another hearty breakfast, we head north to Haria. We stumble upon another of César Manrique’s homes, where he lived for a long time. This house is more traditional than the previous one but still has large, modern, and very pleasant rooms. At the back of the garden is his large studio, where he created his works. Next, we visit the craft market—this was our original plan. Various stalls offer local items, and it’s very crowded. No room at the café terraces to sit down. We then return to Famara beach for a long stay. There are always great waves here, much to the surfers’ delight. The water temperature is pleasant, and we enjoy it. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at a gas station to refill the car, which has been very fuel-efficient. Gas is also much cheaper here than in France—1.16 € per liter of SP95. We also wash the car, which was very dusty after the long dirt road to Papagayo beach. At the hotel, we enjoy a farewell cocktail before dinner.
Sunday, September 28 We spend the morning by the hotel pool before checking out at noon. For lunch, we go to a restaurant called "Dona Lola," near the hotel, with a terrace offering a view of the coast. We order tuna carpaccio, which is delicious. We then head to the airport, just 15 minutes away. We return the rental car and go to the airport. A long line to check in our luggage. The return flight is on time. A shuttle bus takes us to Saint-Charles station. We then head to our overnight rental. The boulevard slopes down, making it easier with the suitcases. The rental is between the old port and the train station. Once there, we pick up the keys and make one last effort to carry the luggage up to the third floor. The studio is nice, clean, and simply equipped—perfect for one night.
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... 😉
...
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... 😉
...
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!
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!
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....
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....
Hi everyone,
Just back from two weeks in Andalusia, and I wanted to share this experience with you—maybe it’ll help with planning a trip. I’ll start with a quick recap in this post and try to add photos and day-by-day details later (still sorting through them). Hope I don’t bore you too much! 😎
Trip details:
April 20 to May 4, 2019:
7 days on the Costa de la Luz (El Puerto de Santa María) in an Airbnb,
4 days at the junction of the Costa del Sol and Costa Tropical (Salobreña) in an Airbnb,
3 days at Cabo de Gata for some rest at a campsite in Los Escullos.
Two families of four, each with our own car: three 9-year-old boys and a 6-year-old girl. One family was more into city exploration (not us, but we’re working on it), and the other preferred relaxation and nature (that’s us). We speak a little Spanish.
Over 5,000 km, including 2,500 km for the round trip from Carcassonne.
The weather: Variable, but we expected better for this region in late April. The first week on the Costa de la Luz was sometimes chilly (< 20°C), and the second week was warmer but not excessive (< 25°C). At least we didn’t get much rain!
Our budget: Around 2600 € per family:
700 € for accommodations, about 50 € per night,
1000 € for meals and restaurants. We usually spent around 50 € per family at restaurants—we ate out for lunch (except for 2–3 picnics) and cooked at home in the evenings, trying to be back by 6 PM.
600 € for activities: Río Tinto, a flamenco show, visits to the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar, Oasis Park with meals, and a kayaking trip.
300 € for gas and tolls.
Preparation: A few months ahead with bookings for accommodations and tickets for the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar. We used a few travel guides—I like the *Évasion* guide for initial planning. *Géoguide* was okay, but our friends’ *Routard* was the most useful. We also spent three months brushing up on Spanish with Mosalingua (a great spaced-repetition method, max 10 minutes a day). Downloaded Maps.me and the Andalusia map in advance—essential. And we used Tricount to track shared expenses with friends—super handy.
What we did/saw:
3 city visits (Seville, Granada, and Cádiz) + Málaga for our friends (we vetoed Córdoba—too many cities for us).
4 white villages (Vejer de la Frontera, Arcos de la Frontera, Grazalema, Ronda) + Tarifa for our friends.
Beaches (Tarifa and Bolonia, Matalascañas, Nerja, Cabo de Gata).
Nature and fun moments: Doñana National Park, a kayaking trip along the rocky coast near Nerja, and the Wild West/animal park in the Tabernas Desert.
A little culture: Río Tinto mines, the archaeological site of Itálica, Columbus’s caravels, Nerja Cave for us, and the Picasso Museum in Málaga for our friends. Plus, seeing the ham-drying process in the Alpujarras (for our friends).
Our highlights
Nerja and the surrounding villages: The rocky coast was amazing, and we loved the kayaking trip, even if the water was freezing for snorkeling. The beaches are sheltered from the wind, the town is charming, and the cave is incredible.
El Rocío and Doñana National Park. El Rocío has a timeless, almost Wild West vibe—we could’ve stayed a day or two. The quiet and pine scents reminded us of the Landes region.
What we didn’t love as much:
Río Tinto mines: Not super exciting, and the guides’ nonstop chatter kind of ruined the "nature" experience.
Our little regrets (for next time):
Forgetting our passports and missing a day trip to Tangier from Tarifa.
Not having an extra day around Nerja to go snowboarding in the Sierra Nevada—just 1.5 hours away (the kayak guide suggested it).
Not spending at least one night in El Rocío to explore Doñana National Park at dawn.
Antequera with the Guadalhorce reservoir and the Caminito del Rey (but it would’ve meant 2 more hours of driving, and we didn’t have the energy).
My general impressions of Andalusia and Spain
Landscapes: A feeling of extreme concentration of a single activity in some areas—endless olive groves, wind farms on the Costa de la Luz (which I thought were well-integrated), rows of buildings along the Costa del Sol (yikes, glad we didn’t stop there), greenhouses around Almería (a shame to have frozen the coast for so many kilometers), and the massive industrial port of Huelva.
What surprised us compared to France was the lack of small hamlets—villages are clearly defined, and people cluster there, leaving vast landscapes without human presence. In France, you find houses scattered everywhere.
Roads: Relatively few tolls. Sure, rest areas aren’t as nice as in France, but the roads are in good condition, and our wallet was happy. The roads are pretty straight with countless bridges and tunnels—the upside (besides fast travel) is that there aren’t many secondary roads disrupting the scenery.
Tourism and activities: A huge variety and richness. Feels like everyone can find something they like, and 15 days barely scratched the surface. It’s amazing how quickly you go from the coast to snow-capped peaks (Sierra Nevada) or from farmland to desert (Tabernas). And the mix of European and Arabic architecture in the same city is really special.
One small regret: Not interacting more with locals. We didn’t luck out with our Airbnbs. But shopkeepers were great—very patient with my broken Spanish! :-)
Overall, I think our choice to stay on the Costa de la Luz and then near Nerja worked well. We could explore pretty easily (even if we logged a lot of kilometers), and the settings were fantastic. The 3 days of total relaxation at Cabo de Gata were perfect.
If you prefer shorter stops, you could try staying in El Rocío (easy access to Seville and great for an early visit to Doñana National Park) or maybe Grazalema for a hike in the mountains (weather-dependent). And of course, Tarifa for a day trip to Tangier or Gibraltar.
More details and photos to come soon!
Laurent
Just back from two weeks in Andalusia, and I wanted to share this experience with you—maybe it’ll help with planning a trip. I’ll start with a quick recap in this post and try to add photos and day-by-day details later (still sorting through them). Hope I don’t bore you too much! 😎
Trip details:
April 20 to May 4, 2019:
7 days on the Costa de la Luz (El Puerto de Santa María) in an Airbnb,
4 days at the junction of the Costa del Sol and Costa Tropical (Salobreña) in an Airbnb,
3 days at Cabo de Gata for some rest at a campsite in Los Escullos.
Two families of four, each with our own car: three 9-year-old boys and a 6-year-old girl. One family was more into city exploration (not us, but we’re working on it), and the other preferred relaxation and nature (that’s us). We speak a little Spanish.
Over 5,000 km, including 2,500 km for the round trip from Carcassonne.
The weather: Variable, but we expected better for this region in late April. The first week on the Costa de la Luz was sometimes chilly (< 20°C), and the second week was warmer but not excessive (< 25°C). At least we didn’t get much rain!
Our budget: Around 2600 € per family:
700 € for accommodations, about 50 € per night,
1000 € for meals and restaurants. We usually spent around 50 € per family at restaurants—we ate out for lunch (except for 2–3 picnics) and cooked at home in the evenings, trying to be back by 6 PM.
600 € for activities: Río Tinto, a flamenco show, visits to the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar, Oasis Park with meals, and a kayaking trip.
300 € for gas and tolls.
Preparation: A few months ahead with bookings for accommodations and tickets for the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar. We used a few travel guides—I like the *Évasion* guide for initial planning. *Géoguide* was okay, but our friends’ *Routard* was the most useful. We also spent three months brushing up on Spanish with Mosalingua (a great spaced-repetition method, max 10 minutes a day). Downloaded Maps.me and the Andalusia map in advance—essential. And we used Tricount to track shared expenses with friends—super handy.
What we did/saw:
3 city visits (Seville, Granada, and Cádiz) + Málaga for our friends (we vetoed Córdoba—too many cities for us).
4 white villages (Vejer de la Frontera, Arcos de la Frontera, Grazalema, Ronda) + Tarifa for our friends.
Beaches (Tarifa and Bolonia, Matalascañas, Nerja, Cabo de Gata).
Nature and fun moments: Doñana National Park, a kayaking trip along the rocky coast near Nerja, and the Wild West/animal park in the Tabernas Desert.
A little culture: Río Tinto mines, the archaeological site of Itálica, Columbus’s caravels, Nerja Cave for us, and the Picasso Museum in Málaga for our friends. Plus, seeing the ham-drying process in the Alpujarras (for our friends).
Our highlights
Nerja and the surrounding villages: The rocky coast was amazing, and we loved the kayaking trip, even if the water was freezing for snorkeling. The beaches are sheltered from the wind, the town is charming, and the cave is incredible.
El Rocío and Doñana National Park. El Rocío has a timeless, almost Wild West vibe—we could’ve stayed a day or two. The quiet and pine scents reminded us of the Landes region.
What we didn’t love as much:
Río Tinto mines: Not super exciting, and the guides’ nonstop chatter kind of ruined the "nature" experience.
Our little regrets (for next time):
Forgetting our passports and missing a day trip to Tangier from Tarifa.
Not having an extra day around Nerja to go snowboarding in the Sierra Nevada—just 1.5 hours away (the kayak guide suggested it).
Not spending at least one night in El Rocío to explore Doñana National Park at dawn.
Antequera with the Guadalhorce reservoir and the Caminito del Rey (but it would’ve meant 2 more hours of driving, and we didn’t have the energy).
My general impressions of Andalusia and Spain
Landscapes: A feeling of extreme concentration of a single activity in some areas—endless olive groves, wind farms on the Costa de la Luz (which I thought were well-integrated), rows of buildings along the Costa del Sol (yikes, glad we didn’t stop there), greenhouses around Almería (a shame to have frozen the coast for so many kilometers), and the massive industrial port of Huelva.
What surprised us compared to France was the lack of small hamlets—villages are clearly defined, and people cluster there, leaving vast landscapes without human presence. In France, you find houses scattered everywhere.
Roads: Relatively few tolls. Sure, rest areas aren’t as nice as in France, but the roads are in good condition, and our wallet was happy. The roads are pretty straight with countless bridges and tunnels—the upside (besides fast travel) is that there aren’t many secondary roads disrupting the scenery.
Tourism and activities: A huge variety and richness. Feels like everyone can find something they like, and 15 days barely scratched the surface. It’s amazing how quickly you go from the coast to snow-capped peaks (Sierra Nevada) or from farmland to desert (Tabernas). And the mix of European and Arabic architecture in the same city is really special.
One small regret: Not interacting more with locals. We didn’t luck out with our Airbnbs. But shopkeepers were great—very patient with my broken Spanish! :-)
Overall, I think our choice to stay on the Costa de la Luz and then near Nerja worked well. We could explore pretty easily (even if we logged a lot of kilometers), and the settings were fantastic. The 3 days of total relaxation at Cabo de Gata were perfect.
If you prefer shorter stops, you could try staying in El Rocío (easy access to Seville and great for an early visit to Doñana National Park) or maybe Grazalema for a hike in the mountains (weather-dependent). And of course, Tarifa for a day trip to Tangier or Gibraltar.
More details and photos to come soon!
Laurent
























