Hi,
If I understand correctly, you want to follow the lateral canal along the Garonne and then the Canal du Midi. You're in for a treat! Wild camping is totally possible all along the canal. I’ve just never had the courage to bring a tent myself.
I just got back from my first group trip—it was also my first activist hike and my first bike-camping adventure, and it all took place in the Lot Valley:
http://toulousevelo.le-pic.org/velotroute2011/
Soon, this site will have photos from the trip, videos, and my poems. France 3 will air a 5-minute report on it at 1 PM in August.
Have a great vacation!
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Absolutely, I'm planning to leave from Nantes to reach the coast and then head inland along the canals of the Garonne and the Midi to see the "little sea"!
Your reply reassures me and confirms my travel plans—I’ll probably be hanging out by the canals this summer!
Safe travels, and don’t hesitate to share the date of your report when you know it!
Broadcast of the activist cycling documentary "Vélorote" in the Lot Valley:
As agreed, I’m sharing the scheduled air date for the documentary we filmed with you in Estaing and Espalion.
Barring any breaking news, it’s set to air on Tuesday, August 2nd at 7 PM.
Please pass this along to anyone else who might be interested.
Have a great summer!
Christine VINCENT-VALDENAIRE
Journalist, Writer, Reporter
France3 SUD
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Permanent site for the Lot Valley bike route:
https://velotroute.le-pic.org/
Select the "2011 hike" tab.
You can read the poems I wrote to thank the organizers:
Julien Savary, Jean-Louis Charpenteau, Nicole and Michel Sicard, Gérard Roou... by clicking on Gilles' poems.
Ever since I discovered the *rigole de la plaine* (see my travel journal, page 1, March 2007), which supplies water to the Canal du Midi from Lake Saint-Ferréol:
http://www.tourisme-revel.com/...ne/saint-ferreol.php
and became fascinated by Pierre-Paul Riquet’s work, I’d dreamed of taking my family on this idyllic GR trail. But it’s 140 km from our home (a distance I’ve covered in a single day against a headwind!). It took our nephew’s visit for my wife, son, and I to finally make the trip—doing what I consider heresy: driving 280 km just to go for a bike ride (same as driving to the sea or mountains for a day).
Of course, I have roof racks with a mount and a bike rack on the tow hitch, and we’ve gone on vacations with all five of our bikes (we have three kids). But I don’t remember ever using the car just to go biking. I always ride from home or our vacation spot, or take the train. Transporting four bikes on the car requires a lot of prep. For the first time, I chose a trailer (since it’s small, it’s tricky) to avoid hurting aerodynamics and increasing fuel consumption. The only upside is that it lets our son log extra hours for his learner’s permit.
We reach the Seuil de Naurouze, right by the Canal du Midi. Here, the water hesitates between flowing east to the Mediterranean or west to the Atlantic:
http://www.canaldumidi.com/...Partage-des-Eaux.php
The diagram at the bottom of the page clearly shows the 40 km of the *rigole de la Plaine* and the Saint-Ferréol basin (6).
We park behind two vehicles belonging to hikers near where the GR 653 crosses the D6113 (the old N113).
The dirt path along the *rigole* is lovely, shaded by trees—plane trees, pines, and oaks. But you’ll need a mountain bike (MTB) or hybrid due to roots, grass, and some rocks. After covering 18 km in 1.5 hours, we reach Étang de Lenclas, where we have lunch under the heather:
http://www.relaislenclas.com/.
It’s tough to get going again after a big meal, especially as the temperature rises and my wife is already sore. But since we’ve just left the Aude for Haute-Garonne, the trail turns into a pleasant packed-dirt path. We still have 17 km to go, and I tell my wife she’ll love it. But her legs are hurting too. The *rigole* leads us to Revel. To keep cyclists off the busy road climbing to the lake, the *Conseil Général* built a bike-only route. It’s paved or concrete with grooves because it’s steep—up to 18%. We have to push our bikes. My three companions start worrying about not seeing the Saint-Ferréol basin and the return trip. We meet a family of campers with four young kids who also ate at Lenclas. They’re all struggling in the sun. The youngest is ahead alone since he’s not carrying anything, while the parents with trailers have to stop to help the others push their bikes. We can’t give up when we’re only carrying ourselves, so we make it to the lake, where a swim is a welcome relief among the many Toulousains and tourists.
After 5 p.m., we start the descent, and our brakes are working hard. Then we’re back on the *rigole*. The boys, always ahead, have to wait longer at each stop because my wife is exhausted. It’s her first time covering 70 km by bike, and on a dirt trail at that. The boys start packing up the bikes since I’d asked my son to do it and given him the car key. I drive us home, arriving at 11 p.m. He recovers in the backseat to start his summer job from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m.
A fantastic ride—best if you’re somewhat trained, but doable for kids since there are no cars on the entire route.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Not only has Gironde made numerous improvements for cycling, but its General Council also responds to emails—unlike others that don’t even reply to letters.
Mr. President of the Gironde General Council,
I’ve crossed your large and beautiful department by bike several times, and I’d like to congratulate you again on your superb cycling network.
During my last bike trip, returning from Brittany: http://voyageforum.com/...post=4296452#4296452
I was surprised not to find your cycling trails guide: http://www.voiesvertes.com/...les_gironde_2008.pdf
at the Soulac tourist office. It was at the Montalivet office that I got a brochure covering only the local trail, and I learned that it had deliberately not been reprinted to save money. I think this is a strategic mistake because it’s hard to navigate your trails without this precious guide. Although the routes are signposted, the directions are sometimes unclear, and when two trails intersect, it’s easy to take the wrong one without a map.
This guide also has the advantage of inspiring people to explore your department by bike. If a tourist comes across it, they might want to return with their bike to enjoy your network. It can attract many foreigners—others have understood this well. For example, Brittany distributes this beautiful guide without ads: http://fr.calameo.com/...00001315a4af9c366225
If it were necessary to charge one euro for it, that would be a small price to pay—the important thing is that it’s available to the public.
Additionally, I took the Royan ferry, and I was able to check the schedules online before leaving La Tremblade. When I saw it offshore, I realized I’d missed it. Looking at the sign at the boarding point, I finally understood that I’d read the schedule backward. I asked the employee while paying for my passage and learned that 50% of people make the same mistake.
With such a low success rate, the issue seems to be with the message rather than its comprehension. Why not display "departure from Royan or Le Verdon" instead of "departure Royan, Le Verdon"?
Do you measure the consequences of such ambiguity?
For example, someone might rush to catch the ferry they think is about to leave and have an accident because they thought they were well ahead of schedule.
I hope it will be possible to improve the readability of the schedules. This would help a great many users.
Looking forward to your response, please accept my respectful regards.
Hello Sir,
We have taken note of your comments. You can find our brochures in digital format on the website www.tourisme-gironde.fr; not all are available yet, but it won’t be long. We have also noted your remarks about the ferry schedules—feel free to contact me if you need more information.
Best regards,
Lydie Bordes
Tourism Project Manager
Tourism Department
Environment and Tourism Directorate
05 56 99 33 33 - extension 5643
However, no response to my request for clarification:
Thank you for your quick reply.
Bravo for these cycling travel journals: http://fr.calameo.com/read/0002587130204c3712921
I see you’ve used the same provider as Brittany. Oddly, on my screen, the accents only work on every other page.
You didn’t tell me if this brochure will be available at tourist offices.
Regarding the ferry schedules, is the problem known? Is any action being taken?
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
It took 7 months and a follow-up email to get a response to this letter addressed to the General Council of Seine-Maritime:
To the President of the General Council of Seine-Maritime
Subject: Cycle paths and greenways
I use my bicycle every day of the year to get from home to work. I don’t deserve much credit for it since the trip is only 6 km in pleasant riding conditions.
I also go on vacation by bike. To inspire others and show how easy it is to travel hundreds of kilometers, I’ve documented my various trips on VoyageForum:
http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=1000920#1000920
I’ve traveled along the Canal Latéral à la Garonne and the Canal du Midi several times. I know how different it is to ride a loaded bike (30 kg) on a dirt towpath with stones and roots compared to a paved path. That’s why I want to congratulate your department for its contribution to the superb Voie Verte du Pays de Bray, which lets you discover the Norman countryside in a beautiful green setting without being exposed to cars:
http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=3953723#3953723
I took it a step further by going on a business trip by bike. I wouldn’t have considered it without such infrastructure:
http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=2799841#2799841
I’m very interested in the Avenue Verte project, which will allow cycling from Paris to London. While the 2012 Games should have spurred progress, it seems nothing’s moving. Could you tell me the status of this project?
Looking forward to your response and hoping you’ll continue supporting sustainable transportation, please accept my respectful regards.
As I suspected, it’s a no-go for the Olympics.
I’m even skeptical about the temporary route.
But there’s hope for the future—at least on the Seine-Maritime side.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Since you're a passionate enthusiast of the Canal du Midi...
I wanted to share my concern and sadness upon learning that the 42,000 plane trees along the Canal du Midi are going to be cut down in the future!!
This isn’t a joke, unfortunately... it’s official! And it’s due to the damage caused by an insect...!
The felling has already begun..🙁 ...and even though it will take months... maybe even years... the outcome is fatal for these plane trees that give all the charm to this beautiful canal!
I’d like to raise awareness about this issue and ask you, my dear friend... your point of view.
Hello,
Indeed, the disappearance of the plane trees along the Canal du Midi is a disaster.
They wrap the waterway in a lush green canopy, enhancing its path and making it easy to spot from land or sky. But their role isn’t just aesthetic—they don’t just provide shade for visitors.
They stabilize the banks’ soil and reduce water evaporation by casting shade between the two shores. Even more impressively, their non-decaying leaves lining the bottom ensure underground waterproofing.
Their importance can’t be overstated. Without them, keeping the canal continuously supplied with water will require much more of it.
There’s a discussion on this topic here:
http://voyageforum.com/...%20canal%20du%20midi;
Here’s some info from Voies Navigables de France’s website:
http://www.sn-sud-ouest.developpement-durable.gouv.fr/...e-contre-l-a432.html
Including an informational brochure for local officials.
It’s not an insect but a fungus. We often forget that on our planet, there’s the animal kingdom, the plant kingdom, and fungi.
Their role in the ecosystem is huge—for example, in how plants absorb nutrients from the soil. (That’s why you should never plow too deeply, to avoid disrupting their activity.)
Unfortunately, in this case, the activity of *Ceratocystis platani*, which causes canker stain, is devastating. Introduced by our American allies in 1945, it took hold in France.
But it was the internet that recently spread it along the Canal du Midi. No, not a computer virus—when digging a trench to bury fiber-optic cables along the waterway, infected roots were cut, and the tools spread the fungus...
Thanks for your interest.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Seine-Maritime wins the top prize for European Greenways for its role in creating the Avenue Verte Paris-London, which I’ve mentioned here:
http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=3953723#3953723
and here:
http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=4579775#4579775
With the arrival of spring, here’s an invitation to get the bikes out with your sweetheart:
I’ll soon take
My love to the water’s edge
By the Garonne Canal
Where romance purrs
To the rhythm of bikes.
Intoxicated by the scents of blooming flowers
And all the colors nature flaunts
Near the lush plane trees
And their soothing reflection
We’ll savor the moment.
The midday sun
Whose reflection smiles
Whetting our appetite
I’ll invite my muse
To the lock keeper’s house.
At the friendly restaurant
La Poule à Vélo
Eating by the water
We’ll return often
To spend sweet moments.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Lovely poem to celebrate spring!
As for me... it's happening! I'm going to ride the Canal du Midi by MTB, all 240 km of it, for the first time... 🙂
Between April 21st and April 27th.
Maybe we'll cross paths?!
Thanks Aesper,
I actually spent many hours writing up all the accounts of my trips along the canal between the Two Seas to showcase all its advantages. My goal was to convince people that this kind of trip is accessible to everyone.
I didn’t choose to put them in the "Travel Journals, travelers' texts" section where they’d just sit unnoticed. It was VoyageForum that moved them out of the "Cycling Travel" section where they’d be much more useful.
I’m tempted to start a new thread just to add a link to all this info—which, as you mentioned, is helpful for anyone wanting to enjoy the charm of the Canal du Midi and the Canal de Garonne, whether by reading, walking, or cycling. But I don’t want to overload this great forum.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I set off at 9 AM from home and after 2 km, I reach the lateral canal of the Garonne.
Near the port of Valence d’Agen, at the old municipal slaughterhouse, the rest stop welcomes hikers, cyclists, and camper vans from March to October.
See photos here: http://voyageforum.com/...post=4229381#4229381
A year after opening, it’s still in great condition.
I plan to head to Montauban by following the lateral canal of the Garonne to Montech, then the eponymous canal that allows boats to reach the prefecture of Tarn-et-Garonne. (see first photo below)
More history here: http://voyageforum.com/...post=1919131#1919131
By 11 AM, after 20 km, I arrive in Moissac, where I buy almond croquants at the market and enjoy them by the Tarn.
In 30 minutes, I reach the Yves Cousteau port in Castelsarrasin, where boat maintenance is still ongoing.
After a long period of inactivity that saw the canal freeze this winter, pleasure boating reopens at the end of March.
After admiring the water slope at 44 km, I arrive in Montech with its charming little port. It’s already 12:15 PM, and luckily, I don’t plan to have lunch at the *Eclusier* restaurant, which is waiting for a new owner.
I take the fork toward Montauban. Unlike the Garonne canal, the 11 km of the towpath here have remained unpaved. The banks are badly damaged by the combined effects of boat waves and coypus. Ongoing work with sheet piles (later cut to level) between water and land gives hope for new developments. But despite the short length of the Montech canal, the surface varies greatly depending on the work sections. Here, large stones after a bridge renovation; there, rubble after bank alignment with wood; or even pebbles mixed with dirt. Smooth, bike-friendly dirt sections are rare, though fine gravel ensures good riding near Montauban.
There’s always something happening on the canal. Almost every 10 km, there’s an interesting town to visit and a port (which makes sense on a waterway), except by boat, it would’ve taken me much longer to see as much.
After the port of Montauban (55 km), the water from the Montech canal rushes under the railway and road, and through two locks, allows boaters to descend into the Tarn. I can follow it by taking a staircase that leads to the rowing club.
It’s already 1:30 PM, and I won’t go any farther. Feeling bold, I join the only couple dining on the sun-drenched terrace. The other customers at the nautical club’s restaurant preferred the shade inside. They really should put out the umbrellas (but next week, it might freeze again). The nautical club’s salad is delicious and will be enough for me to hit the road again under the midday sun after refilling my water bottle with fresh water kindly offered by the restaurateur.
Luckily, my panniers aren’t too heavy to climb the lock staircase.
A man tells me the other tunnel would’ve been more practical (the one I took in 2008). He adds it’ll take me 1 hour to return to Valence. I say more like 4.
He’s already covered the 11 km of the connecting canal by MTB in 20 minutes. That’s an average of 33 km/h, I tell him. My max recorded by the counter this morning was 31.6 (probably a downhill). I add that I went to the market and took photos. He then reached Toulouse in 1 hour!
Actually, he’s a fisheries warden. With his binoculars, he observes and fines offenders. I think to myself that on foot, he won’t see many.
It takes me 1 hour to cover those cursed 11 km, walking sometimes due to digestion and a sore backside. For the 44 km between Montech and Valence d’Agen, I’ll have a headwind and will only arrive painfully at 7 PM—5 hours for the return (4 hours on the way out, sightseeing included). Total: 110 km in 10 hours.
As I approach Valence, I cross paths with a cyclist on the path. He invites me to stop, but his pace isn’t very inviting. He tells me I can take a shower at the old slaughterhouse and sleep there. I thank him, but the rest stop closes at 6:30 PM in spring, and it’s not an overnight stop. I wonder where he’s headed with his undersized bike and basic gear.
That’s how a Saturday could’ve turned into a pleasant day of port-hopping if the northwest wind hadn’t picked up. It’s a regular in the Garonne Valley, which it sweeps through.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I was reading your travel journals and saw that you have waterproof VAUDE panniers... I'm interested because I'd like to buy some too!
What's the capacity of yours? Are they 2x20 liters at the back?
I was thinking of getting 2x12.5 liters for riding along the Canal du Midi.
Hi Juju83,
Yes, I think they hold 2 x 24 L. I’m happy with these panniers. But even though I’ve ridden several thousand kilometers with them, I’ve never really had the chance to test them in heavy rain. That might change soon, though. I have to leave on Wednesday with my son to do Valence d'Agen to Cap d'Agde in 3 x 100 km, and the forecast calls for rain.
For this trip, I just bought the matching VAUDE handlebar bag. It’s tricky to outfit my son’s full-suspension MTB for touring...
Besides a mini rack attached to the seatpost and a handlebar bag.
PS: I assume you accidentally copied a large part of one of my travel journal entries. Could you delete it? No need to waste digital space (it’s not virtual).
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Actually, my son didn’t want to go because of the rain (too bad—it seemed moderate and the wind was favorable).
A week of prep for nothing, and I spent Tuesday afternoon putting on fenders to keep him from getting splashed.
This morning, no rain, so we just did a short 22 km ride in the area.
Juju83, I hope you have better luck with your hike along the Canal du Midi.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Oh, it's too bad your ride didn't work out😐...
It's true that this April has been pretty gloomy, with rain often showing up...
I need to travel from Toulouse to Agde between Monday the 23rd and Friday the 27th, averaging at least 60 km per day.
(Total of 4 days: 240 km)
Like you said, I hope I'll escape the rain!
I'm currently fixing up a second-hand hybrid bike I bought—still not done. (Installing fenders, a rear rack, lights, a speedometer, etc...)
With two new waterproof ORTLIEB panniers, 12.5 liters each, on the back... I think it's a good long-term investment in the end. 😉
You haven’t answered my previous question about the unintentional repetition.
Since we didn’t have bikes, my wife, son, and I drove to Cap d’Agde, picking up our daughter in Toulouse along the way. They were supposed to join us there if we’d finished our cycling route along the towpath.
The four of us were able to walk it from Agde to the Bagnas nature reserve. (See photos below.)
As you mentioned in your post: http://voyageforum.com/...post=4640086#4640086
there are a lot of trees marked like in your photo, and you can find the locations and dates for the felling of the 40,000 plane trees here: http://www.vnf.fr/canaldumidi/chiffres-cles.php
The state will only cover a third of the 200 million € needed for replanting, leaving the rest to the regions with a call for sponsorship...
I hope you’ll make it to Agde to see that the round lock isn’t round anymore since it was enlarged (the change in materials is visible on the far right of my photo) to meet the Freycinet gauge: http://www.canaldumidi.com/...gde/Ecluse-ronde.php Its original shape was due to the fact that it allowed boats to continue their journey toward Sète by taking the Hérault or to head down the Canalet to reach the Mediterranean via the Hérault’s *grau* (canalized estuary).
The last lock before the Thau lagoon, the one at Bagnas, wasn’t spared from the necessary chainsaw work on the plane trees doomed by the fungus.
But the Canal du Midi isn’t safe from other, even more voracious predators.
The state, through VNF, is gradually abandoning the canal’s maintenance, letting it silt up. Especially since the passage of heavy commercial barges, which used to scrape the bottom and push sediment to the sides, stabilizing the banks, no longer happens.
We could slowly see the canal dry up, despite the immense water reserve of the Montagne Noire, which VEOLIA is eyeing greedily.
It’s time to put an end to the UMP’s shady dealings (for example, giving a huge chunk of TV advertising revenue to private channels by banning ads after 8:30 PM on public channels).
As Stéphane Hessel urges us, let’s get indignant and resist. Our heritage isn’t merchandise! A new wind, imbued with Equality, Fraternity, and the Public Good, must flow through France’s canals.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Thanks for your message with the photos... really interesting!
I can't wait to be there because it's been 4 years since I last went to the Canal du Midi.
It's still so sad to see those condemned trees 🙁...
Let's hope the region's tourism interest will save the Canal du Midi for the next few decades.
It's a heritage site that needs to be maintained so future generations can enjoy the place.
PS: I don't know how to delete the "forwarded" and therefore useless message. If you could explain...
Anyway... maybe, with luck, we'll cross paths next week.
When you're logged in to VoyageForum, you can Reply to other members' messages. Plus, you can Edit your own posts (even old ones).
Just select and delete the unnecessary part, then click Save Changes.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
The state, through VNF, is gradually abandoning the maintenance of the canal, letting it silt up.
[...]
It’s time to put an end to the UMP’s shady dealings (for example, giving a huge chunk of TV advertising revenue to private channels by banning ads after 8:30 PM on public channels).
For those interested, VNF’s status was established by the Rocard government and voted on by the Cresson government—two prime ministers with little connection to the UMP.
According to Wikimedia: "VNF is a public industrial and commercial establishment of the state, thus governed by private law"; this means the state (in short, us) doesn’t have as much control over this institution as it would if it were fully under state status.
If you want to criticize VNF, at least include these two pieces of info.
And who’s going to put VNF back under state control? Our UMP minister!
Another excerpt from Wikipedia: "On August 30, 2010, the Council of Ministers adopted a bill on the National Waterways Agency, presented by Nathalie Kosciusko-Morizet, Minister of Ecology, Sustainable Development, Transport, and Housing."
"This law is presented as aiming to modernize the public waterway service to make it more ‘competitive’ while meeting certain objectives of the Grenelle Environment Forum. It aims to contribute to modal shift by enabling a shift to waterways. It also aims to contribute to ‘sustainable development and land-use planning, particularly through the preservation of wetlands and the necessary measures to restore ecological continuity, flood prevention, heritage conservation, and the promotion of river tourism and nautical activities,’ or even by exploiting, ‘as a secondary activity and without harming navigation, hydraulic energy through installations or works located on the public domain mentioned in Article L. 4311-1 of this code, in application of Articles L. 511-2 or L. 511-3 of the Energy Code(...)’."
And VNF, regardless of its statutes, missions, or the government that establishes them, is not responsible for the spread of the colorado disease, the cost of replacing thousands of trees, the gradual decline in river traffic, or the physical laws governing sediment movement.
Moreover, the connection between the pleasant removal of evening ads and the colorado disease escapes me.
If you want to talk politics and push your rather subtle ideas on the matter ("It’s time to put an end to the UMP’s shady dealings"), there are plenty of forums for that—thanks. It’s all the more unfortunate because the other info you provided is very interesting. 😉
Thanks a bunch for getting me back on the right track.
And I’d like to congratulate Nathalie Kosciusko-Morizet for her work within the Grenelle Environment framework for public water management. However, many are disappointed by the limited impact of this Grenelle. Proof of this is the recent decision, just before the elections, to delay the implementation of measures against visual pollution from advertising billboards—even though it was approved by the Grenelle. This shows that, systematically, commercial interests take priority for the current government.
Sorry again for this detour off the towpath. In these tense times, let’s not mix politics and travel.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
You nailed it with that nice play on words to wrap up the digression. Congrats!
As for the billboard story, putting partisan politics aside, it’s not great—we totally agree on that.
Apparently, it wasn’t due to government policy but rather the isolated action of a single MP who went against the government’s and assembly’s wishes, even defying the prefect’s order (i.e., the state) see here. This official preferred to keep the 200,000 € annual revenue for their town rather than ban ads on such a large scale.
Just to recap, the government had finally made the bold decision to ban billboards larger than 8 m² and had identified areas (near schools, etc.) where all ads would be prohibited. Local governments partly rely on the money these things bring in, so seeing MPs (regardless of their party) choose to reduce visual pollution—even at the cost of losing funding—was a pleasant surprise. And (another topic) neon signs left on all night? To me, that’s visual pollution *and* a waste of energy.
I’m really glad to see you’ve changed your mind about ads. I thought you missed them on public TV, but I’m happy to see you can’t stand them in urban landscapes either. On that, we’re on the same page.
Back to the topic: it’s great to inspire fellow cycle-travelers like us to take towpaths, whether they’re stony or paved. It lets you cover quite a few kilometers even if you’re not super confident in your physical abilities.
For now, I’m leaning toward the mountains (I love the landscapes, the views, the tranquility, and the solitude of wild spaces), but when I’m a few years older, I’ll revisit this idea.
Happy pedaling, good luck cutting greenhouse gas emissions, and vote wisely—whoever you choose.
Thanks 8cx for the high quality of your info. Actually, I’m grateful to Nicolas Sarkozy for banning ads after 8:30 PM. When I’m still torn between two programs, I pick the one on public TV knowing I won’t have to sit through commercials. Even though France Télévisions’ programs are still formatted for ad breaks.
What bothers me is the reason behind that decision: funneling more cash to his buddies...
I also love hiking in the mountains. What gets me is how I get there. It’s tough to walk to the mountains from my place. Sure, there’s the train option. But since I don’t like hiking alone (unlike biking), the compromise is carpooling with coworkers for a weekend hiking trip in a small group.
Have a great citizen weekend, everyone.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Hi Facteur 4,
Do you know if there’s a collective or a patronage group to support the reforestation of the Canal du Midi with trees?
While we’re at it, why not make a small contribution to this cause...
See you, Gilles
En toute chose, l'on ne reçoit qu'en raison de ce que l'on donne.
Thanks for the info. We’ll have to see what the future terms of the sponsorship campaign will be. A few euros for a tree is a good thing—stay tuned...
Safe travels on your future rides.
@+
En toute chose, l'on ne reçoit qu'en raison de ce que l'on donne.
Day 1 Monday 4 June 2012 Valence d’Agen 09:30 Toulouse 17:00 95 km
I won’t go into detail about this part, which has been described many times in previous posts. Just a reminder that the entire route along the Garonne lateral canal is a dedicated, paved cycle path. That means you won’t encounter any cars except for a few exceptions and junctions that might not be paved for a few hundred meters.
As usual, as I approach Moissac, I cross paths with many hikers on the St. Jacques trail. At this time of year, PE class can take the form of a canoe trip on the Tarn. The town famous for its Chasselas grapes welcomes visitors with roses. See the photos below (hover over them to see the name) and here: http://voyageforum.com/...post=5034626#5034626
After Castelsarrasin, I pass a couple of cycle-campers. The woman is struggling to keep up with her husband, even though he’s pulling a two-wheeled trailer. I let her know that he won’t be able to ride on the Canal du Midi towpath—contrary to the info he received that only 25 of the 240 km aren’t developed!!!
I advise the woman (as her husband had already done) to raise her saddle for more power in her legs. But for now, she’s not confident enough, especially with the water so close. She prefers walking, and when I mention the backpack, they describe their setup for following the St. Jacques trail. Early in the morning, the woman and her sister would set off on foot while the husband and brother-in-law took down the tent. Then he’d bike to meet his brother-in-law, who’d be waiting with an apéritif after driving the van (where he and his wife slept).
In those conditions, I go from an occasional walker to a seasoned one.
At 12:30 PM after 43 km, I arrive in Montech, where the lockkeeper’s restaurant is still waiting for a new manager. I have lunch at La Place restaurant, where the worker’s menu is 10 or 12 €.
At 1:30 PM, I’m back on the path. After a few kilometers, I give in to a nap in the grass a little off the canal since my daughter can’t welcome me at her shared apartment in Toulouse until 6:30 PM. After 30 minutes, I’m woken up by music coming from an electric vehicle with a trailer carrying a seat (maybe for friends), like the ones the English love: http://www.practicomfort.fr/...amp;name=Confortable
As soon as they’re even slightly disabled, they ‘rush’ to buy one.
I must’ve picked the wrong spot to relax…
I reach the Ponts Jumeaux after 90 km at 5:00 PM. One bridge crosses the Canal du Midi, the other the Canal de Brienne, which allowed barges to descend into the Garonne before its lateral canal (built 200 years later) existed. Actually, they’re triplets now. In my photo, you can see the difference in brick color.
Still avoiding traffic, which at this hour already makes crossing the road very difficult, I follow the Canal de Brienne (1.6 km) to its end, which leads me to Place St-Pierre, a student hangout with several bars offering terraces. Since I’m both thirsty and hungry, I choose a bakery where I treat myself to a country-style tart with a pint of AMSTERDAM Navigator beer (I’ll understand later why this high-alcohol beer is found here). A trash can labeled MERCI invites me to toss the small cardboard box my cherry tart came in. I ask where to put my can for recycling. The server tells me bars don’t recycle packaging, and it’d be pointless to try explaining it to the young people who’ll occupy the square in 2–3 hours in a drunken state. Yet aluminum is recyclable, and the quantities involved are significant. I tell him it should be like in Quebec, where you get a cent back for returning a can at the convenience store.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Day 2 Tuesday 05/06 Toulouse 08:45 AM Lac de St Férréol 5:00 PM 88 km
I’m leaving at the same time as my daughter, who’s heading to her internship fine-tuning microalgae farming (to produce food and fuels).
I quickly find the Canal du Midi, which looks a lot like the Garonne Canal here. In Rangueil, I join the flow of student cyclists and people commuting to work.
The Voie Verte is paved for 50 km up to Port Lauragais.
But at 11:45 AM, guided by my stomach, I leave the towpath after 45 km for Avignonet Lauragais. I arrive at the Auberge du Pilori at exactly noon, where participants in a tourism seminar are gathering. Since they’re eating inside and I’m on the terrace, their blessing doesn’t bother me.
I only need to cover 5 km on the D813 (former N113) to reach the obelisk paying tribute to Pierre Paul Riquet and the Seuil de Naurouze. This is the highest point between the Atlantic and Mediterranean watersheds—the spot Riquet chose to ensure the canal’s constant water supply by creating the St Férréol reservoir, capturing rainwater from the Montagne Noire.
At 1:00 PM, I leave the road for the GR 653, which runs alongside the feeder canal. More info here:
http://voyageforum.com/...post=4462769#4462769
In 2 hours and 20 km, I’ll only cross paths with one hiker, a mountain biker, a squirrel, and two stunning blue mowing tractors belonging to a VNF subcontractor.
The Lenclas rest stop has upgraded to attract tourists, but the inflatable castle’s compressor slightly ruins my lemon sorbet (refreshing) and rum-raisin ice cream (energy).
The transition from Aude to Haute-Garonne brings the appearance of a Voie Verte. The packed earth isn’t as smooth as on my very first trip, but it’s still very rideable. I pass a few cyclists, mostly retirees who’ve parked their camper vans at the Étang de Lenclas. Its 16 km will take me to Lac de St Férréol, where I’ve booked a hotel, already fearing the crowds. But it’s worth the effort because the General Council, to protect cyclists and pedestrians, extended the Voie Verte, which then leaves the feeder canal via a superb 3 km path. For legal reasons, it’s advertised with a maximum slope of 15%, though the company COLAS, which built it, measured up to 18% in places. So, pushing my 30 kg bike, I reach the top after a stop at the water point strategically placed by the Haute-Garonne Council.
I thought I’d swim in the lake (like in the August story), but the Hôtel La Renaissance, where I receive a warm welcome, has a small pool that’s just a bit warmer and cleaner:
http://www.booking.com/hotel/fr/logis-de-france-la-renaissance.fr.html?tab=4&aid=301664&rid=298019706&label=review_am
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Day 3, Wednesday 06/06 – 08:00 St Férréol to 18:30 Capendu, 88 km
Having ridden it on a small motorbike when I was younger, and based on tourists’ experiences, the hotel owner advised me against taking the *rigole de la montagne* (mountain channel) with my loaded bike from the lake. Yet, discovering this part was the first goal of my trip—I’ve never been here before. Since I couldn’t find the start of the GR trail, I took the D629 to Les Cammazes. The climb warmed me up quickly, and I spent the day adjusting my layers based on clouds, wind, and the ups and downs.
After 10 km, I found the exit of Vauban’s tunnel. It allows the *rigole de la montagne* to switch from one valley to another, diverting water from the Mediterranean watershed to the Atlantic side.
Les Cammazes also had a sign inviting me to follow the channel to Alzeau’s water intake. The path was smooth, and I loved riding through the greenery.
Until I hit a fence completely blocking the trail due to a collapsed bank, with a detour sign for the GR7. The detour led down through a logged forest, then back up to the channel. The path ended with a temporary staircase, forcing me to unload my panniers to haul my bike up. A minute later, I met the only other hikers—a couple. I wished I’d run into them earlier; they could’ve helped! They told me they run the *Gîte du Pèlerin* in Revel.
After a few wrong turns due to channel diversions, I reached the Lampy dam by noon. I was about to eat my cookies and compote on a flat rock when I realized I was at 640 m, the highest point of the water supply network, and the wind was *freezing*. While looking for shelter, I found a restaurant run by Brits—way better than my snacks. I learned this reservoir, built in 1776, was a prerequisite for the Languedoc Canal administration to connect the *Canal du Midi* with the *Canal de la Robine*, which runs through Narbonne.
That’s the second goal of my trip: to follow the *Canal de la Robine* to the sea.
I started my descent toward the *Canal du Midi*, rejoining the D629 at Saissac. My phone finally got signal, and I listened to a voicemail from the owner of *Relais Occitan*, whom I’d tried calling that morning. Her landline was full, and her mobile wasn’t picking up (I later found out she’d gone to Chartres to babysit her daughter, who was defending her thesis). She gave me her husband’s number, but he couldn’t answer—he was driving. Sleeping in a *foudre* (wine barrel) again was well-earned, especially since tonight, two cycling couples would take the first two barrels, a group would stay in the old tiled vat, and I’d fill the last spot in the *gîte d’étape* at Domaine de Beauvoir (the guest rooms were still available).
After 1 km on the D6113, I turned right into Pezens to find the small road to the canal. Riding slowly, I was startled when my keys—attached to my whistle-compass-thermometer—flew out. Did I forget to close my handlebar bag’s front pocket, or did vibrations loosen the zipper? Lucky me: in the steep descents I’d just done (up to 50 km/h), I wouldn’t have heard the metallic jingle that alerted me.
At 14:30, after 50 km, I was back on the towpath, but at a much slower pace than on the pavement. Too bad it was too early to stop at the crêperie at Herminis Lock: http://creperiedelecluse11.wordpress.com/
I was about to take a photo of the towpath’s sorry state—it hosts tourists from all over visiting Carcassonne—but this time, the path was completely closed. Maybe future repairs are coming? See my letter to the *Conseil Général* here: http://voyageforum.com/...post=4162125#4162125
I looked for a bar where I could park my bike and set up my laptop with its 3G dongle in peace. The ideal spot—a terrace right above the canal—was serving its last lunch customers before closing. I circled for a while but couldn’t find a quiet place without traffic or crowds. I ended up buying a cold drink from a vending machine at the train station and moved far enough to be undisturbed but close enough for signal. Sitting on a pine stump by the canal, I had my snack while paying for the next night’s booking with my credit card via my works council’s site.
I saw several trees marked for removal due to *chancre coloré* (a fungal disease): http://voyageforum.com/...post=4641146#4641146
There was an info panel and, for the first time, young resistant plane trees being watered.
At 18:30, I arrived in Capendu. Though I’ve slept in a *foudre* 5 or 6 times before, this was the first time I’d brought a camera to share photos of the outside and inside. Good night!
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Day 4 Thursday 07/06 08:30 Capendu 17:00 Gruissan 85 km
http://www.relaisoccitan.com/
The Beauvoir estate of Relais Occitan is a member (for over 100 €/year) of Service Compris, which promotes slow tourism along the canal between the two seas by publishing a very useful tourist map for hikers, as it shows distances and which bank to cycle on: http://www.canal-et-voie-verte.com/
While the route from Carcassonne to Marseillette (Capendu) appeared as a solid line, I kept wondering at each crossing where the bike path was. Riding there yesterday, I thought the surface was actually decent. Surprise in the 2012 edition the owner gave me—it’s now dotted. People must have complained. Same correction for the Rigole de la Plaine, whose Aude section wrongly had this route, which should only be for the part in Haute-Garonne where it becomes a Voie Verte.
This morning, I’m back on the left bank at the Marseillette lock, and the towpath really deserves the dotted line with its narrow strip of land where bikes ride through grass, stones, and roots. Another bank change at the Aiguille lock, where the lockkeeper is a wood sculptor. Even the barriers blocking car access leave too little room for bikes (let alone tricycles).
With all these challenges, it’s impossible to average more than 10 km/h. And maybe that’s a good thing when I hear the dull thuds of a piece of wood hitting my front wheel spokes, signaling it’s thick enough to end my ride in the sun. That’s what they call throwing a wrench in the works. Luckily, it slips out to the right when it reaches the fork, and I keep going. I lift the front and spin the wheel—a rubbing noise makes me fear a buckle, but it’s just the brake pad that shifted after hitting the branch.
I can recover from the scare by buying cherries at the next lock. They’re not sweet but refreshing. You can’t be picky this year, when so many crops suffered from rain or even hail ("hay year, nothing year").
Further on, a man holding his bike with a trailer is also holding his wife’s. He warns her too late of my arrival as she’s peeing behind a plane tree. To avoid adding to her embarrassment, I look straight ahead, but our wide field of vision lets me think her white underwear looks brand new.
Since I have good memories of it, I hesitate to eat in Ventenac as I pass the château. I notice that vineyards are being replanted in the area.
It takes me 4 hours to cover the 43 km to Le Somail. But the effort is rewarded with the grocery barge, the stunning bridge, and the Comptoir de la Nature, where I convince the waitresses to set the table on the terrace near the water. The uncertain weather had made them stick to the front of the restaurant.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Day 4 Continued – Thursday 07/06 08:30 Capendu to 17:00 Gruissan, 85 km
Settled at Le Somail, they had passed close by me. Back on the towpath, I meet the "pee break" couple again at the first engineering structure. The man is taking a photo of his wife.
I offer to photograph them both. He tells me that’s not the point and that they have a self-timer for that. Maybe he’s afraid I’ll steal his camera?
I quickly reach the intersection with the Canal de Jonction, which allows boats to join the Canal de la Robine that crosses Narbonne.
This Roman city enjoyed significant influence due to its port location. In the 14th century, major floods of the Aude River filled the southern bed and cut Narbonne off from its sea access. The small canals called "robines," used since antiquity, weren’t enough to ensure transport.
As in 2007: http://voyageforum.com/...post=1281472#1281472, I turn right.
This time, I won’t have to empty my panniers, which are removable—unlike the ones my wife bought to play mail carrier in her village one summer, which I had secured to my MTB for my first trips after the fastenings gave out.
After taking photos of my new panniers during the transfer, that evening I get the idea to use them for a riddle I send to my friends, asking what they’re attached to and where. Each day, I send them new photographic clues (see below before reading on).
Despite some wrong guesses, some friends were relentless in solving the riddle. And one person won a bike ride with me along their chosen section of the Canal Between the Two Seas and its feeder network.
The answer: my panniers were attached to the railing of the MOUSSOULENS railway bridge—a Eiffel-type construction that crosses the AUDE River.
It’s the only way for pedestrians and cyclists following the boats using the "Nouvelle branch" to cross the Aude.
(Thanks to Georges11 for his very clear diagram and explanations, which I just discovered):
http://georges11.blogspot.fr/...e-long-du-canal....
Indeed, to reach Narbonne and then Port-la-Nouvelle, boats leave the Canal du Midi via the Canal de Jonction up to the Gailhousty spillway (1786), where the lock allows them to briefly descend onto the Aude River until the Moussoulens lock (1686), which protects Narbonne from river floods. There, they enter the Canal de la Robine (the Aude’s former bed), which crosses the city and allows them to reach the Mediterranean 37 km after leaving the Canal du Midi.
The old ferryboat attached to a suspended cable, which allowed pedestrians to cross, was removed to make way for the automobile society.
The railway bridge itself only remains due to the need to transport uranium for the Comurhex company, located 3 km from Narbonne. It enriches yellowcake from Niger, the first step in producing nuclear fuel in France.
More info here:
http://www.agadez-niger.com/...viewtopic.php?t=4...
So I take the access path—with no signs (see my photo)—located behind the Gailhousty spillway to reach the railway bridge and cross the Aude. Unlike in 2007, when the rails seemed shiny, I find them rusty, with poor fastenings and perforated metal sheets. I wouldn’t mind seeing this bridge turned into a greenway. First, I carry my bike down the stairs, then my panniers.
A few meters along the riverbank, and then the start of the "Littorale" cycling route, which begins by following the Canal de la Robine.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Day 4, end of Thursday 07/06 08:30 Capendu - 17:00 Gruissan 85 km
I reach Narbonne where a bike sign seems to indicate a detour due to ongoing construction, but I end up on the wrong bank (right side) in a dead end, passing twice through a narrow and low-clearance section that forces me to dismount from my MTB.
I have to mix with traffic in the city center where pedestrians and cars are already struggling to coexist and only manage to follow the left bank after 1 km. I leave the city of Charles Trenet at 3:30 PM after 64 km. The riverside path is busy but has suffered damage from bad weather. It was a bit early to eat in town. I arrive at the fork at 4:00 PM and 71 km. Remembering I still have some cherries, I continue a little toward Port-la-Nouvelle to take a break in front of a rice field. Then I head back to La Littorale where two men are marking a hike on the old Domitian Way for the weekend.
After a stretch on small roads, I pass a German couple on the Greenway with its brand-new surface. A bit of wind forces the man to wait for his partner. Gray skies over the circular village of Gruissan around its castle built on a limestone hill that, in Roman times, emerged from the sea.
Without leaving the bike path, I reach my works council’s holiday village at 5:05 PM and 85 km. I thought reception would just be opening, but at this time of year, it has already closed. I find the keys to my cottage, sheets, and my electronic badge at my disposal. I even have the code for the perimeter fence, which lets me access the nearby seawater pond:
http://rsl.cepralmar.com/sites/c04/2006.html
I can then take advantage of the cooked meals service. To eat on-site, you’re asked to bring your own cutlery, and I’m surprised to be refused my plate for the lamb stew with olives. It’s forbidden to enter the kitchen for hygiene reasons. I’m served in a disposable dish. Even though my colleagues will be happy not to have to wash dishes and it’s biodegradable, I find this stupid. In the Aude, there’s no collection of compostable waste, and mixed with other trash, it’ll just add to the pile of household garbage.
Since I can’t exceptionally dine on-site, I place my dish at an angle on my plate inside the plastic that wrapped my sheets, serving as a transport bag before becoming a trash bag.
I wander around for a while looking for my lodging among the 467 and arrive with my pants stained with grease marks I’ll never manage to remove.
More luck with the weather: it’s at 8:30 PM that large hailstones hit my cottage, several hours after I left my bike.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Day 5, Saturday 09/06: Gruissan 08:45 AM – Capendu 06:15 PM, 87 km
After a rest day where it felt harder to get into the lagoon water, I start the return trip, which I plan to do in 3 days.
I find the greenway again, leading me to Narbonne Plage where I buy 250 g of "gariguette" cherries at a small market. The coastal road somewhat misleads with its name, stopping at Saint-Pierre-la-Mer after just a few kilometers along the coast.
I tackle a small climb to head toward Coursan via the D1118, which is very pleasant but winding, so I prefer to put on my reflective yellow vest.
I probably miss something by not visiting the Gouffre de l'Œil Doux and reach Fleury. After crossing Coursan on the way to Cuxac and Sallèles-d’Aude, I come across many road bikes that benefit from a tailwind.
I find the Canal de la Robine again but choose to continue via Saint-Marcel-sur-Aude to reach Le Somail, one of my favorite spots on the Canal du Midi. Obsessed with the *Comptoir de la Nature*, I realize too late it would’ve been shorter to join the canal at Ventenac, where there’s also a good restaurant. No regrets though, as I enjoy the *assiette du randonneur* with rice from Marseillette, where I’ll sleep again.
This time, I decide to take the time to visit the old books bookstore, but it’s on lunch break, even though it’s Saturday.
I pass the *Tourmente*, proudly announcing on behalf of the independent boatmen’s union: 40 times less atmospheric pollution than the road.
As I’m about to take a macro shot of a flower, Jacques, a hiker from Ardèche cycling toward Sète, arrives. We exchange stories about our travels. He’s been to Cambodia and Laos and is interested in my experience in Quebec.
I offer help to a couple with a flat tire, but they live nearby. I’m almost surprised I’ve never had a flat on my trips after thousands of kilometers.
I unnecessarily booked at the *Relais Occitan* since I’m alone in the *gîte d’étape*. Under the pretext that it might rain, I skip the 4 km ride to dine at *Icix*. Instead, I order a pizza—actually just to use the Wi-Fi and watch *Complément d’Enquête* on sports injuries later.
This is a serious breach of my principles: having a one-ton vehicle deliver a pizza is wasteful, especially since the delivery service is free (which should be banned). Luckily, the Belgian couple staying in the *chambre d’hôte* ordered salads, making the trip slightly less absurd.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
J6 Sunday 10/06 Capendu 09h Carcassonne 10h 20 km
I meet them at breakfast. When I tell them it’s going to rain, they complain that the path will turn to mud. At the Libron structure, they noticed this message in English: "And 300 years later still not able to build a bike path."
I tell them that the Aude region is finally launching a development study.
I just found out the good news via email from Julien Savary, a very active member of http://af3v.org/.
See info: http://www.ladepeche.fr/...e-canal-du-midi.html
For my part, I decided to take the train in Carcassonne and cover the 20 km to the station by road. As I feared when looking at the D6113 on the Michelin map, after just 3 km, a sign appears banning bikes. Since it’s Sunday, I allow myself to ride on the shoulder and arrive well ahead of schedule after a trip reduced to just 1 hour (long live the pavement).
I’m lucky that the TER train chartered by the region is a Bombardier made in northern France: http://www2.bombardier.com/fr/9_0/9_6.jsp
I can board without removing my panniers because the floor is level with the platform, but for track 3 at Carcassonne station, the only access is via the stairs!
Same type of train in Toulouse. Fortunately, because I only have 10 minutes between the two, and I can’t find the platform access due to construction. I was right to ask the other four cyclists to let me exit the first train first.
With SNCF, you cover in 1 hour the distance of a day’s bike ride, just like the 700 km I had traveled in 7 days to get to Saint-Raphaël and 7 hours on the way back:
http://voyageforum.com/...post=2631582#2631582
This concludes this pleasant 453 km loop, and I recommend enjoying the Canal du Midi before it’s disfigured by replanting work and, hopefully, the creation of the Voie Verte. With the luck of only getting a few raindrops like I did this spring of CHANGE:
We suspected that microparticles from DIESEL engines were carcinogenic—now we’re certain:
http://www.notre-planete.info/...esel_cancerigene.php
France will continue to import DIESEL, but perhaps no longer to support GROWTH.
We thought sports were good for health. We now have proof that the blows taken by competitors cause the same brain damage as Alzheimer’s (more quickly). ATHLETES and FANS will continue to rush to stadiums (preferably by car).
What doesn’t change is that KEROSENE isn’t taxed. It’s true that it’s better to tax sodas than AIR TRAVEL. That’s less likely to draw the ire of the ENTIRE WORLD:
http://www.ladepeche.fr/...recise-pecresse.html (also read at the bottom of the page)
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Welcome to the Ch’tis: an illusion, a memory that could turn into a nightmare. This film reinforces the idea that French people love to retreat into their cozy little bubbles when the weather gets rough. Denial—a national sport since Alésia. In whining, the French see kindness. In clichés, humor. In the vulgarity of tradition, authenticity. In shared anxieties, solidarity. In the poor French mumbled by underfed welfare recipients, a centuries-old patois.
Northerners aren’t any more or less foolish than people in other regions. Don’t confuse movies with reality. Thanks for the image you’re giving the NNOOOOOOOOooooooooorth! !
Hi there,
I don’t know if you’ve read this entire travel journal after coming across this excerpt from 2008—which isn’t mine, and I’m glad I credited the author:
while reading the weekly *Marianne* that a colleague passed along to me.
An unexpected article by Matthieu Grimpet, “Welcome to the Ch’tis: An Illusion, a Memory That Could Turn into a Nightmare”:
http://voyageforum.com/...post=1865871#1865871
Personally, I’m from Normandy, and I’ve spent a lot of time around people from the North—I’ve always found them friendly.
I’ve since seen the movie on TV and didn’t think it was anything special, at least not enough to justify all the media hype at the time. That might explain the journalist’s take.
I hope this doesn’t stop you from reading the full thread if it interests you.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I didn’t miss the chance to reach out to the new Minister of Tourism about extending the Greenway between the Two Seas, especially since she’s also the Deputy for my department:
http://www.artisanat-commerce-tourisme.gouv.fr/...graphie-sylvia-pinel
Once again, my email went unanswered, and I had to send my letter by post:
To Madame Sylvia Pinel, Minister of Tourism
Subject: Bike paths and cycling routes
I use my bicycle every day of the year to get from home to work. I don’t deserve much credit for it since the trip is only 6 km in pleasant riding conditions.
I grew to love traveling by bike while riding along the towpath of the lateral canal to the Garonne. Seeing its surface improve over the years, I set off on bike vacations. To inspire others and show how easy it is to cover hundreds of kilometers, I documented my various trips on VoyageForum:
http://voyageforum.com/...post=1000920#1000920
I’ve ridden along the Canal Latéral à la Garonne and the Canal du Midi several times. I know how different it is to ride a loaded bike (30 kg) on a dirt towpath with stones and roots compared to a paved path. That’s why I want to congratulate our department for its contribution to the fantastic Greenway, which allows you to travel from Bordeaux to Toulouse through a stunning landscape of greenery and water without being exposed to cars.
I also praised my town for its role in promoting soft mobility with the creation of the rest stop at the old slaughterhouse.
As soon as it opened, I posted photos online to inform travelers:
I took it a step further by using my bike for work trips. I wouldn’t have considered it without such infrastructure.
During my last assignment:
http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=3804254#3804254
I noticed you’re continuing your commitment with the installation of informational panels highlighting the Canal between the Two Seas, directional signs, and ongoing maintenance of the bike path.
It seems wise to keep this momentum going by completing the Greenway along the Canal between the Two Seas, allowing travel from Bordeaux to Sète. This would be a huge benefit not only for local cyclists and French and international tourists but also for professional travel in ways we might not expect.
Currently, the transformation of the towpath into a bike path is stalled in the Aude department. This area is crossed by 150 km of the Canal du Midi’s banks, and it can’t take on this project alone, which has major tourism potential. This is where the state should step in as a driving force for organization and funding, just as it has with replacing the plane trees severely affected by canker stain.
I’m sure you’re aware of the international economic benefits of creating a cycling route along the Canal du Midi, which has a prestigious reputation. Even though the route isn’t fully marked and the towpath is made of dirt, stones, and roots, I’ve already encountered cyclists from South Korea and Argentina, for example.
Looking forward to your response, and hoping you’ll see this project through, please accept, Madame la Ministre, my respectful regards. Gilles Rouland
P.S. I’m also waiting for a cycling route in Toulouse that would show "Paris 700 km." Just like I saw signs indicating long distances on Quebec’s Green Routes when I rode 1,570 km on their bike paths. See photos here:
https://picasaweb.google.com/GillesROULAND
Once I reach Paris, I’ll just have to take the Avenue Verte and the ferry from Dieppe to get to London. You’ll need to support this project too, as all Greenways are accessible to rollerbladers, tricycles, and wheelchairs for people with disabilities.
(The WHO model is based on the study by the Copenhagen Center for Prospective Population Studies, considered the most robust. This institute followed a population of 30,000 men and women aged 20 to 93 living in the city center—both cyclists and non-cyclists—for 14 years. Their living conditions and health indicators were regularly monitored. After adjusting for other risk factors and physical activities, the results showed a significantly higher mortality risk among non-cyclists. Other studies, particularly in China, confirmed these findings.)
This shows that Science and Common Sense can align.
Except in Government: it’s forbidden. They’ll surely find a good reason not to follow the Faculty of Medicine’s recommendations.
Who knows—maybe with the Socialists, there’s hope.
The Transport Minister announced Monday the merger of SNCF and Réseau Ferré de France into a single public rail entity.
We could see electricity production and distribution merged. EDF partnering with GDF.
And why not La Poste merging with France Télécom?
If they hadn’t been separated, thousands of post offices wouldn’t have had to close, and thousands more wouldn’t be forced to sell books, souvenirs, jewelry—and why not candy and phones?
And if we could flip off the European Commission on top of that, it’d be perfect. !
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I had to change the sprockets and chain on my MTB again. It's annoying when I'm climbing the only hill on my commute (to cross a bridge over the lateral canal to the Garonne) and my momentum in the saddle gets interrupted by a sudden jump in the drivetrain. On the cassette, it's always the 4th sprocket that wears out the fastest because I use it most of the time. Its teeth have become too narrow to hold the chain under heavy effort (see photo below). The difference is striking compared to the teeth on the largest sprocket, which I rarely use (I prefer flat routes), and the smallest one, which I never use (you'd have to want to pedal with the big chainring on descents, which isn't my thing) or cross the chain with the middle or small chainring, which is a no-no. Just a reminder: by design, small sprockets are meant to work with the big chainring, medium sprockets with the middle chainring, and large sprockets with the small chainring. This ensures the chain runs straight, of course. Anyway, it would be silly to use a small sprocket with a small chainring or a large sprocket with a big chainring because you'd get the same gear ratio as with a medium sprocket and chainring, which doesn't put as much strain on the chain.
The problem is that I have to replace the chain (18 €) and cassette (25 €) roughly every two years (receipts from 2008, 2010, 2012). And I'm lucky I only have 7x3 = 21 speeds—modern bikes have 27, which means thinner metal and more wear.
The question is: how many kilometers do I ride in two years?
Over the past four years, I had an odometer, but I never tried to find out how many kilometers I rode per year. I only wanted to know the distance covered each day and the total during a trip, so I removed the odometer in winter. I always thought that over a bike's lifetime, you couldn't really know the total distance. For example, sometimes I'd notice the odometer wasn't incrementing because the connection between the sensor and the display had come loose after a bump. I even had to slip some aluminum foil between the mount (attached to the handlebar) and the display to improve the electrical connection. I asked the former postman from Gers http://wp.jacques-sirat.com/ how his odometer had reached 80,000 km. He told me that during his world tour, he always managed to find batteries in the cities he passed through.
I was more concerned about the mechanical durability of the system. That’s why I replaced the cheap, faulty odometers from supermarkets with this model: http://www.probikeshop.fr/...5-cc-vl510/1851.html.
It’s very readable, but the manufacturer doesn’t share my idea of "eco mode." After stopping the bike, it automatically switches to "eco mode" and constantly displays the time. I don’t see the point in draining the battery for that. Even though I use my bike every day for my commute, I’m only on it about 1% of the time. So I removed the battery and put the display away until my next trip.
All that’s left is to estimate the distance covered in two years, and for that, I have Voyage Forum (see previous pages):
03/2009 Canal du Midi + Canal de Sète to the Rhône: 700 km
04/2009 Mission Bordeaux: 587 km
10/2009 Québec: 1,370 km
05/2010 Loire à Vélo (until chain broke at Chambord Castle): 140 km
+ 2 years of commuting: 2 * 40 * 5 * 10 = 4,000 km
Total: 6,800 km
06/2010 Loire à Vélo (continued): 738 km
09/2010 Mission Bordeaux: 530 km
05/2011 Brittany + coastline: 1,300 km
08/2011 Lateral Canal to the Garonne: 180 km
06/2012 Canal du Midi: 453 km
+ 2 years of commuting: 2 * 40 * 5 * 10 = 4,000 km
Total: 7,200 km
Now I understand the state of the sprocket. But it’s a bit frustrating that it’s just an estimate. Still, I can’t bring myself to leave my odometer on for the next two years. It could get stolen (it happened to a colleague at work). I’ll leave it on permanently when I retire, though—I’ll have plenty of time to rack up kilometers all year long.
Hi there,
If the issue is that the characters appear too small, I have the same problem. And yet it's a 1 MB file!
It seems Google wants to force you to read its documents with Google Chrome.
To avoid this, go to File > Download, then open or save it.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Springtime ride in the Petite Camargue
Tuesday 19/03/13: TER train to Toulouse then TGV to Nîmes. This time I follow the canal between the two seas by train. I catch glimpses of it regularly like a photo album of memories scrolling by with the kilometers. The blue sky, 15°C, and blooming peach trees announce the arrival of spring. Then a coach chartered by SNCF takes me to Vauvert, where I’ve booked a recumbent tricycle from one of the few rental shops of this kind:
http://www.lebarjonaute.info/
They offer numerous routes:
http://www.routeyou.com/user/routes/6543.fr#c=43.587052296397424;4.47868245390498&z=9
After a friendly welcome and the necessary instructions, I take the ICE tricycle http://www.icetrikes.co/ for a spin on the Voie Verte (see photo). I find the gears much harder to shift than on the Scorpion I’d rented in Toulouse. It’s worth noting that one had the option of handlebar-end shifters: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=3245557#3245557
Then I take the departmental road to the bird observation center: http://www.camarguegardoise.com/index.php/Le-centre-du-scamandre?idpage=13&afficheMenuContextuel=true#8
After the visit, I call the hostel that caught my attention for its rates and the possibility of safely storing the tricycle: http://www.auberge-des-plaines.camargue.fr/
Indeed, despite the ABUS lock provided, I can’t take the risk with its 3000 € value.
Unfortunately, the restaurant will exceptionally be closed tonight, and since it’s isolated in the countryside, I decide not to go.
I continue toward Saint-Gilles and call the number displayed on the sign for a guesthouse: http://www.domainedelafosse.camargue.fr/
They don’t offer table d’hôtes at this time of year but suggest I eat the same thing they’ve planned for their dinner.
I head there and barely avoid the large puddle that seems to accompany every farmhouse gate in the area.
After handing me the key to my room, the owner offers me the use of the hammam in 20 minutes. I take a shower and have some tea while waiting. After crossing the courtyard of this former commandery, which now houses a pool, I enter the opposite building. I step into the hammam, where the steam makes visibility zero. Feeling my way around, I touch the tiles and ceramics, which are still icy despite the half-hour that’s passed. I give up immediately.
It seems the owner overestimated the comfort level—especially since, after checking the tourist brochures in my room, I discover their rate is 143 € (breakfast included), while the paint and decor were done roughly, the air conditioning is quite bothersome (like all ACs) in the room, and the bathroom isn’t heated.
I’ll keep my coat on for dinner and breakfast in the designated room, also heated by an air conditioner located in the adjacent reception office. Fortunately, I enjoy the shrimp pasta and homemade nougat glace. I’m expecting the worst on the bill when he brings me a small bottle of wine after offering me a glass to go with the meal. I get away with 100 € for the room and 15 € for the meal. Any more and I would’ve complained and listed all the shortcomings.
Here’s my initiation to the rates charged in the Camargue.
Wednesday 20/03: Given the weather forecast—rain in the morning, sun in the afternoon—I’d postponed breakfast from 8 to 9 AM. I just need to stay sheltered until 10 to avoid the rain. Luckily, since the two front wheels of the trike aren’t equipped with fenders. I decide to scale back my three-day itinerary and head south toward the Mediterranean. I arrive at 11:50 AM at the Sauvage ferry and take the last crossing before the midday break to cross the Petit Rhône. I reach Les Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, where I have lunch: bull gardianne and Camargue rice.
On my map, the path along the dike leading to the Gacholle lighthouse tempts me. After reapplying sunscreen, I follow the coastline. I’m glad I brought a small bungee cord—it lets me attach my coat to the seat. On either side of this dike path, groups of pink flamingos are busy with their activities. A group of young riders also enjoy the scenery. Oddly, they’re accompanied by two 4x4s.
After 5 or 6 km, the path becomes very sandy, and I don’t try to continue with this type of vehicle. You can’t even push it because it’s too low.
I return to Les Saintes, where I’d wisely spotted a hotel currently offering a room for 44 €. I’m even allowed to leave my tricycle at reception since only one other room is occupied. I’m finally rewarded for choosing to explore the Camargue outside the busy season.
Thursday 21/03: On the D85a, a few tourists still stop to observe the birds. In the morning sun, it’s very pleasant. I invite you to rent a recumbent tricycle to experience the serenity this vehicle brings while crossing the countryside, enjoying the landscape without worrying about balance. You can even take photos without stopping.
I cross over the Canal du Rhône à Sète. At this time of year, it’s best to avoid the towpath, which is made up of dredged mud. I calmly reach Aigues-Mortes and park my wheeled chair near the port. The fortified city is truly beautiful, and I come across many foreign tourists.
Far from the busy Place Saint-Louis, the two restaurants that caught my attention unfortunately have their terraces in the shade. I still sit on the edge to catch a few rays of sun. But it quickly leaves its zenith, and I prefer to eat my dessert inside. The floating island is excellent—nothing like the one I had the day before. This confirms that it’s better to choose a 16 or 17 € menu rather than a 12 € one. http://www.levictoria-aigues-mortes.com/restaurant-hotel-victoria-aigues-mortes.html
To warm up, a little *pénéqué* (Provençal nap) on the port lawn is welcome. Then I take the road to Saint-Laurent-d’Aigouze, the capital of Camargue bullfighting. I reach the Carbonnière Tower, a 14th-century building that controlled the only access road to Aigues-Mortes in the middle of the marshes: http://www.camarguegardoise.com/index.php/La-tour-Carbonni%C3%A8re?idpage=27&afficheMenuContextuel=true
It has become a classified site:
http://www.languedoc-roussillon.developpement-durable.gouv.fr/IMG/pdf/MARAIS_CARBONNIERE_cle55f134-1.pdf
This should speed up the completion of the ViaRhôna, the bike route from Lake Geneva to the Mediterranean in this area.
http://www.vvv-sud.org/Images/cartecg30vvv1012-gde.jpg
In Saint-Laurent, I only find a ** hotel advertising a room for 80 €. So I follow Le Barjonaute’s advice and call: http://www.lespetitscherri.fr/
But since they’re away and can only welcome me after 7 PM, they give me the number of a guesthouse 3 km away. Here too, it’s 80 €, and the owner gives me directions. As in the whole village, there are many potholes. It’s hard not to hit one with the tricycle. I assume it’s due to the very wet terrain. Following the *Camargue d’Autrefois* signs, the path becomes muddy, and I get splashed by the front wheels. Before reaching the *Mas de la Tour de la Musette*, I realize I’m close to the route the rental shop owner had suggested for a return without taking the main road. After avoiding *the puddle* that comes with the gate, I’m invited to park my vehicle next to the carriage the owner uses for rides: http://www.camargueautrefois.com/
Despite the period tower that allowed surveillance of the property’s hectares and the equestrian charm of the farmhouse, the comfort here also doesn’t match the price. Especially at this time of year, when you can’t use the pool and the heating is insufficient in the room.
Having noticed the lack of a kettle in my room, I ask for tea, which the hostess offers me with biscuits in the living room.
I’ve just realized I’ve doomed myself to fasting by moving away from the center, where I’d spotted two restaurants. Indeed, I’d had to leave behind snacks and other accessories (compass, knife, poncho, survival blanket, pins...) with my backpack at the rental shop, for lack of space in the light side panniers (cavalry-style). I hadn’t wanted to rent the hiking panniers. Here’s an opportunity to practice a little regenerative fasting.
Friday 22/03:
After breakfast, I take the path along the Vistre. The second elderly cyclist I meet and chat with for a moment asks me how long I’ve been disabled. This confirms the confusion caused by the recumbent tricycle, but it’s an advantage when it comes to car traffic, which is less aggressive.
After visiting Le Cailar and its small market, where they offer *tellines* (small shellfish), I ask at the café while drinking my hot chocolate how to get to the Voie Verte for Vauvert.
I thus complete my loop by retracing this very pleasant section. I pass a mom jogging with a stroller. I wonder if the designers had this use in mind. But the Voie Verte, combining safety and quality surfacing, is perfectly suited for this activity.
I’m early, but since the sky is overcast, I prefer to return the tricycle before noon to take the time to share my feedback with the rental shop. I can then have lunch and visit Vauvert before taking the 2:38 PM coach. I enjoy my meal at *Le Fiacre* restaurant.
The coach, which left 2 or 3 minutes late, struggles to reach its destination with the Friday afternoon traffic. It drops me off just in time to run and catch my Intercité train. Same in Toulouse—the 9 minutes for the connection shrink to 2. Fortunately, I know the departure platform. I would’ve had to avoid Friday if I’d wanted to travel with my bike; otherwise, I would’ve definitely missed the connection.
In conclusion, I still want to buy a recumbent tricycle for my retirement, with the goal of using it mainly along the canal between the two seas, extending the perimeter from the Arcachon Basin (with its many bike paths) to the Voies Vertes of the Mediterranean. Unless France establishes a bike lane (like the one I’ve just used in the Bouches-du-Rhône—see last photo) on many routes.
And as *La Sacoche* suggests:
http://lasacochecyclo.free.fr/lasacoche/page/LS_38_cpv_01_BandesDerasees.pdf
Maybe the state will finally understand the benefits of promoting cycling as a means of transport that improves health by strengthening the immune system and protecting the cardiovascular system. And that it will develop our territory so everyone can practice it safely.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I'm leaving Wednesday from Bordeaux!
My first trip!
Silly question in this case given your article!
Should I put on road tires (slicks) or my all-terrain ones (knobbies)?
Hello and welcome,
While reading your other messages, I gather you’re heading to the Canal du Midi, and if you have slick, narrow tires, it won’t be great for the dirt and roots. But on the bike path along the Garonne lateral canal, wider tires will slow you down. You’d have needed something in between.
I’ve got these and I’m really happy with them: http://www.itinbikes.com/PBSCProduct.asp?ItmID=7382561&AccID=30953&PGFLngID=0&gclid=CPaSqbT0gbcCFYHHtAod9QEA-g
But I guess it’s too late for you now.
Safe travels!
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Carnets de voyage › France › Sud-Ouest · 82 replies
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Voici que je vais vous présenter le récit de notre troisième périple. Toujours les mêmes protagonistes, c’est-à-dire Mathieu et moi. C’est une nouvelle…
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.
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...
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.
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...)
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 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.
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’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:
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.
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!
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’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.
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!
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.
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?*
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." 😉
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.
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.
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.
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.
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... 😉
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
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.
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.