je ne te critique pas mais je pense que tu vis dans le monde des bisounours "la ou tout le monde est gentil".
mais la realite est differente..
1) demande aux Tibetins ce qu'ils pensent des Chinois
2) regarde les infos Vietnamiennes, particulierement ce qui se passe dans les iles VN...les chinois essaient de voler les iles aux VN..
pourtant ils ont recu un avertissement en 1979 quand ils ont detale comme des lapins devant l'armee VN qui penetrait en Chine (je demande confirmation a Mr Larsay).
amicalement
si vous n'aimez pas mes informations, ne les lisez pas, lisez autre chose, mais respectez les car elles serviront a d'autres
Et moi je dirais : tu ne fais pas la différence entre un peuple et les actions de son gouvernement??
Gouvernement que les chinois n'ont pas choisi, et dont ils subissent les exactions. Il n'y a pas que les tibétains qui souffrent en Chine, mais tout le monde. Demande aux chinois ce qu'ils pensent de leur gouvernement.
tu as raison egalement..
chez les chinois il y a des bons et des mauvais comme dans tous les pays..
pour en revenir a HaiPhong/QuangNinh, cette region est reputee pour etre la plus dangereuse du VN - (drogue, arme, mafia, meurtres) ceci du a l'influence du voisin chinois.
amicalement
si vous n'aimez pas mes informations, ne les lisez pas, lisez autre chose, mais respectez les car elles serviront a d'autres
A ce stade nous remercions les personnes qui ont su rester agréables avec nous et celles qui nous ont témoigné leur plaisir de lire notre récit et de contempler nos photos. Comme nous le disions à une interlocutrice dans un message privé : penser de bonnes choses, c'est bien, les exprimer c'est formidable.
Nous ne donnerons suite à aucune polémique, nous gardons nos forces pour la rédaction des journées suivantes.
Nous tenons juste à rappeler ce que nous pensions avoir clairement annoncé dès le départ, c'est à dire que le récit relate exactement ce que nous avons vu, vécu et ressenti. Quels que soient ici les commentaires, ils ne pourront pas changer la réalité des choses qui se sont produites. Dans la mesure où il n'est pas possible de raconter la totalité de nos journées ni de montrer tout le film de nos aventures, les lecteurs peuvent ne pas se rendre compte à quel point nous avons abordé chaque vietnamien avec respect et sourire, combien de fois nous avons accepté des prix qui dépassaient ce qu'il aurait été raisonnable de nous réclamer.
Merci d'avance pour votre compréhension, merci d'intervenir de façon constructive et positive, notamment eu égard au respect que nous devons tous aux autres lecteurs de ce forum.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Oui c'est vrai je n'ai pas été poli...
Je pars pour le Vietnam dans 2 semaines, et je lis votre récit avec intérêt depuis le début.
De plus, les photos sont superbes.
On peut se demander si ce n'est pas un corps d'armée, quelque chose de militaire : le casque, ce qui semble un gilet de protection et des chaussures souples qui font penser à des grimpeurs - le Génie peut-être ? - qu'en pensez-vous ?
Cordialement - Kimtwo
Le vent et les turbulences sont l'oeuvre de Dieu, mais la voile et le gouvernail nous appartiennent..
Voyager c'est aller de soi à soi, en passant par les autres (proverbe touareg)
Sauf erreur
Notre guide nous a expliqué que c'était des jeunes étudiants volontaires...
Ils sont dévoués au nettoyage des parcs ds les villes, au ramassage des détritus, à la surveillance de certains lieux.
Ils pratiquent ces activités en dehors des heures de classe, ns en avons rencontré au temple de la littérature le jour de la remise des diplômes..ils s'occupaient du nettoyage des abords.
Une forme de scoutisme😉😉😉
Pour bien aimer un pays il faut le manger, le boire et l’entendre chanter. (Michel Déon)
Oui j'en ai vu de ces étudiants et étudiantes, acharnés à nettoyer autour particulièrement du Lac Hoan Kiem, mais je ne comprends pas pourquoi ils sont casqués - les "miens" ne l'étaient pas : il doit y avoir plusieurs sections selon l peut-être les occupations dévolues..- J'ai vu juste avant mon départ autour du 15 août des jeunes armés de très longues perches qui faisaient tomber des branches fragiles un peu partout dans les parcs pour éviter que le cyclone suivant fasse tomber ça sur la tête des gens, mais s'ils avaient le casque.... ils n'étaient pas en bleu.....-
Bon on dira qu'ils s'étaient mis sur leur 31 pour faire une photo pour notre conteur 😉
Kimtwo
Le vent et les turbulences sont l'oeuvre de Dieu, mais la voile et le gouvernail nous appartiennent..
Voyager c'est aller de soi à soi, en passant par les autres (proverbe touareg)
C'est bien ces casques qui me font douter, ceux qui étaient au temple n'en avaient pas tous..seuls quelques uns étaient comme vous le dites sur leur 31!!
Ils ne sont pas toujours en bleu, ceux qui travaillent encadrés par "l'agriculture ou les forêts" sont en vert, ns avons vu les deux couleur!!
Et tjrs sauf erreur , je reporte ce qui m'a été expliqué😉
Asia
Pour bien aimer un pays il faut le manger, le boire et l’entendre chanter. (Michel Déon)
Non, c'est ça , il est vrai que j'ai vu pas mal de ces gamins en vert avec quelque part sur la tenue les mêmes mots que la mention portée sur les véhicules d'entretien : xanh, dep, sach (vert, beau, propre) -
On tient beaucoup plus compte qu'il n'est dit du respect de l'environnement, tout du moins à Hanoi.- c'est même inscrit sur mon super sac de courses de mon super marché : chung tay bao ve moi truong (en gros, donnons nous la main pour préserver l'environnement.....)
Kimtwo
Le vent et les turbulences sont l'oeuvre de Dieu, mais la voile et le gouvernail nous appartiennent..
Voyager c'est aller de soi à soi, en passant par les autres (proverbe touareg)
On tient beaucoup plus compte qu'il n'est dit du respect de l'environnement, tout du moins à Hanoi.- c'est même inscrit sur mon super sac de courses de mon super marché : chung tay bao ve moi truong (en gros, donnons nous la main pour préserver l'environnement)
bonjour Kimtwo.
a DaNang egalement...les supermarches (metro, BigC) ne distribuent plus de sacs en plastiques..
ils vendent UN gros sac cabas..
ceci pour eviter les dechets plastiques dans l'environnement.
mais a QuangNgai les sacs plastiques ont toujours distribues malheureusement
si vous n'aimez pas mes informations, ne les lisez pas, lisez autre chose, mais respectez les car elles serviront a d'autres
Vous avez bien raison Joël de ne pas rentrer dans les petites remarques et les polémiques qui sont pénibles et complètement déplacées d'autant qu'on aura bien noté votre zenitudes (en tout cas sur le papier) lorsque vous rencontrez des situations cocasses.
Votre compte rendu est un véritable régal et les photos sont de plus en plus belles, mais j'ai bien peur que nous arrivions vite au terme de votre périple... Dommage !
Avez vous envisagé de faire un blog ou il serait possible de voir les photos dans leur ensemble car VF n'est l'outil idéal pour consulter ces très belles photos ?
1) demande aux Tibetins ce qu'ils pensent des Chinois
2) regarde les infos Vietnamiennes, particulierement ce qui se passe dans les iles VN...les chinois essaient de voler les iles aux VN..
pourtant ils ont recu un avertissement en 1979 quand ils ont detale comme des lapins devant l'armee VN qui penetrait en Chine (je demande confirmation a Mr Larsay).
amicalement
Apres les Laotiens faineants voici les Chinois. Drole. Parlez nous plutot des belles forets des Haut Plateaux 🙂
pourtant ils ont recu un avertissement en 1979 quand ils ont detale comme des lapins devant l'armee VN qui penetrait en Chine (je demande confirmation a Mr Larsay).
J'ai bien peur que Larsay ne puisse pas pas entièrement confirmer(. En effet, ce ne sont pas les vietnamiens qui ont pénétré en Chine, mais les chinois qui ont envahi par surprise le nord du Vietnam le 16 février, après avoir bombardé toutes les villes frontières (Lao Cai, Ha Giang, Cao Bang, Langson, Moncai), qui ont subi de très gros dommages. Le but principal de cette invasion d'environ 120 000 chinois était de détourner les troupes régulières vietnamiennes qui avaient pénétré au Cambodge, à l'époque des kmers rouges, grands alliés des chinois, à cause des incursions incessantes et sanglantes des khmers ; ils ont simplement oublié que les vietnamiens sont des sacrés soldats et que les troupes de la frontière et les miliciens régionaux (Tu Vé) n'avaient pas besoin de celles qui étaient au Cambodge pour mettre une belle raclée aux chinois ; les viets ont tout simplement bloqué les cols menant vers le sud et ont contre-attaqué dans des montagnes qu'ils connaissaient très bien ; les chinois sont retournés en Chine le 16 mars moins, d'après les journaux, 7000 morts et avec 13-15 000 blessés, mais on m'a dit plusieurs fois que le chiffre était plutôt un total de 50 000 (plus 400 chars laissés sur le terrain). Propagande aidant, les chinois ont clamé une grande victoire 🏴☠️
Méfiez-vous de la vie, car les ratés ne vous rateront pas!
Nous marquons un arrêt chez une petite commerçante toute mignonne et distinguée, amie de Minh. Nous y achetons d’excellentes cigarettes locales à 100000 dongs la cartouche, soit quatre euros messieurs dames. Mais nous reviendrons sur ce sujet.
Minh est un grand connaisseur des "toutes mignonnes" ; j'en découvre une nouvelle à chaque fois que je pars avec lui !
Bref, en fin d’après-midi, nous arrivons à la pension An Vong chez Duy Tho à côté du lac Ba Be. La première impression est curieuse : la pension, c’est dans la grande maison familiale
Précisons que le village s'appelle Pac Ngoi et que presque toutes les maisons sont des maisons d'hôtes très simples, avec dortoir (je connais quelques maisons d'hôtes ailleurs où il y a des chambres séparées par une cloison, mais c'est plutôt rare). Vous n'avez pas eu droit à l'alcool de riz d'après-diner avec un Duy Tho hilare ?????
Méfiez-vous de la vie, car les ratés ne vous rateront pas!
Pour la veille, nous avions omis de préciser que près de chez Pirate, à quelques dizaines de mètres et en contrebas, un petit chemin dans la jungle mène à une cascade tumultueuse qu’on peut observer depuis un parapet. C’est un petit plus non négligeable dans le parcours.
Ca s'appelle les chutes de Dau Dang, mais c'est pas le Niagara !!!!! En continuant le chemin, on arrive à un petit "port" où les grosses pirogues arrivent, déchargent leur cargaison de provisions et autres sur des motos, prennent une route bétonnée à flanc de montagne pour contourner les chutes, et rembarquent en face de chez Pirath pour aller à Cao Trung et Pac Ngoi
Nous promettons de repasser au retour et repartons. Nouvelle pause au sommet du col suivant. Il y a une espèce de bar-épicerie. Il s’y trouve quantité de bocaux d’alcool de mais et de riz. Ces bocaux de 40 centimètres de haut sont ainsi la dernière demeure de bien gros lézards mais aussi de beaux cobras que les gens du coin trouvent en forêt.
A Yen Do, à mi-chemin entre Hanoi et Babe, il y a un très bon restau avec un bocal gigantesque d'alcool de riz dans lequel "baigne" un énorme python ; impressionnant ! J'en profite pour préciser aux touristes qui voudraient ramener une petite bouteille d'alcool avec un cobra, comme il s'en vend un peu partout, surtout dans le Vieux Hanoi, que c'est une espèce protégée donc si la douane vous attrape, ...
Méfiez-vous de la vie, car les ratés ne vous rateront pas!
Le soir, nous choisissons le Dao Tien, favorablement cité par le routard. Le cadre est somptueux, l’énorme terrasse est située presque au bord du fleuve, le service est pratiquement à l’occidentale. De ce fait, comme toujours dans ce genre de pays, les prix sont bien plus élevés et la cuisine nettement moins bonne.
Je signale qu'il y a maintenant 2 restaurants Dao tien : le premier est sur la rue, avec une petite terrasse, et les proprios ont ouvert récemment le 2e derrière, où vous êtes allés, sur la rivière, surtout pour y accueillir des groupes (ils m'avaient montré le terrain quand j'y étais l'an dernier), le 1er n'étant pas très pratique pour eux. Il est préférable d'aller au 1er, où j'ai fait 2 excellents diners
Méfiez-vous de la vie, car les ratés ne vous rateront pas!
Vous avez déjà vu les chutes de Ban Gioc sans eau, à part les petites chutes à gauche (et encore, j'ai toujours vu "la plus grande des petites" avec de l'eau !!!!! ? Pas moi, et j'y vais pourtant a n'importe quelle période !
Méfiez-vous de la vie, car les ratés ne vous rateront pas!
Vous n'avez pas eu droit à l'alcool de riz d'après-diner avec un Duy Tho hilare ?????
Nous oui!!! et de nombreux verres, Duy Tho et son épouse, des gens charmants!!
Le lac Ba be , un très bel endroit, calme et reposant, l’accueil des maisons d’hôte y est de qualité (pour nous la maison Duy Tho), nous y avons passé de très bons moments😉
Pour bien aimer un pays il faut le manger, le boire et l’entendre chanter. (Michel Déon)
C'est vrai que Duy Tho est très fort sur le môt tram môt tram (100% = "cul sec"). J'y étais une fois où, le lendemain matin, j'étais le seul à être "frais", vu que je savais à quoi m'attendre si je le laissais m'embarquer ; c'est donc moi qui ai ramené tout le monde à Hanoi. C'est là que j'ai compris pourquoi l'ami Minh et autres chauffeurs arrivent souvent au bout de l'étape très fatigués ; c'est la tension perpétuelle, où toute seconde d'inattention peut coûter cher : j'ai failli me "payer" au milieu de virages, dans l'ordre, un petit cheval mongol, un buffle, et un tas de cailloux qui prenait la moitié de la route. Je ne suis pas prêt à remettre ça !!!!!!
Méfiez-vous de la vie, car les ratés ne vous rateront pas!
Hé oui, tout est question de modération, vous remarquez, je ne suis pas sur la photo!!!
En cas d'empêchement du chauffeur.... , j'aurai pris le volant, hi hi , les pauvres!!!😉
La route qui mène et repart de Ba Be n'est pas très bonne, les usines alentour la gâchent pas mal.
ON m'a dit qu'elles avaient versé au district l'argent de sa remise en état....mais....ce n'est toujours pas fait!!!
Pour bien aimer un pays il faut le manger, le boire et l’entendre chanter. (Michel Déon)
Jacques, voici une photo. Tu sauras forcément qui est qui...
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Le troisième jour, un nouveau saut sur une petite île avec plage, après Ti Top la veille. Nous ne nous serons baignés nulle part en fin de compte. Barboter le long de la plage après avoir vu dériver une telle quantité de détritus dans l’eau, non, le cœur n’y est pas.
Puis il faut ranger ses sacs, vider sa cabine et régler les boissons. Le brunch ne dépareille pas par rapport aux précédents repas il est servi sous forme de buffet, il y a absolument de tout pour tous les goûts et c’est délicieux. Il y en a une quantité impressionnante, de quoi se gaver suffisamment pour ne plus avoir besoin de manger jusqu’au soir.
Le retour se fait par le même chenal qu’à l’aller, comme toujours à une vitesse dépassant à peine celle de l’homme au pas et en passant pour la cinquième ou sixième fois devant le même cargo mouillant dans la baie.
A l’embarcadère, nous retrouvons Marc Tiberghien, toujours aussi éminemment sympathique et affable. Il s’occupe du briefing des arrivants et du débriefing des partants. Il met ses clients dans le bus pour leur prochaine destination et se soucie de ce qu’ils payent le tarif normal. Ce jour-là, il se charge d’en faire de même pour trois jeunes petites françaises qui étaient présentes sur le bateau, alors qu’elles n’étaient pourtant pas passées par lui. Le vrai plus de la prestation de Marc, en fait c’est Marc lui-même. Avec lui, ainsi que Hai et Hung, nous avons fait une rencontre extrêmement agréable.
Il nous faut exceptionnellement apporter quelques précisions sur l’ensemble de la croisière compte tenu de l’une ou l’autre réaction dont on nous a fait part : nous avions choisi Marc Tiberghien pour plusieurs raisons. D’abord, le taux de recommandation exceptionnel dont il bénéficie auprès de ses clients. Ensuite, pour nous trouver dans un bateau beau, propre et confortable, où le personnel est correct avec nous et où nous mangeons fort bien. Enfin, pour qu’il nous assure une arrivée et un départ sans encombres. Ces objectifs ont été non seulement atteints, mais parfois largement au-dessus de nos espérances.
Quant au prix de la prestation, nous avons bien constaté en comparant avant de partir qu’il est très compétitif, peut-être au détriment de son propre gain…
D’autre part, nos critiques sont plutôt adressées au staff de toutes les compagnies, lesquelles en matière de découverte de la baie sur trois journées pourraient un peu mieux faire. Ne nous plaignons pas trop, nous étions globalement informés du programme…
Enfin, sur ce sujet comme sur d’autres, nous relatons certains faits marquants et indépendamment de notre volonté les aspects négatifs peuvent ressortir d’une manière un peu flagrante, au détriment des points positifs. Mais bon, nous n’allons pas répéter à chaque phrase que ce pays est beau, que nous avons été ravis, que chaque jour a été un grand jour de voyage. Cela ennuierait le lecteur.
Concrètement, si nous devions refaire un jour un passage à Halong, compte tenu des informations que nous avons, nous passerions clairement à nouveau par Marc.
Bref, une heure après avoir accosté, nous voyons arriver notre bus. Horreur, il s’agit d’un minibus ! Nous nous crispons quelque peu. Ce qui n’arrange rien c’est que l’assistant du chauffeur ressemble étrangement à celui qui avait tenté de nous arnaquer trois jours plus tôt. Le frère ? Un cousin ? Marc nous fait comprendre qu’il a briefé le chauffeur qui donc ne roulera pas comme un dingue et ne mettra pas la musique à fond. Nous savons que c’est la dernière fois qu’il nous faudra souffrir et nous installons pour faire ces 180 kilomètres vers Ninh Binh. 100000 dongs par personne, durée quatre heures mais un seul arrêt à mi-chemin.
Au bout de vingt kilomètres, le conducteur oublie une partie de ses consignes et met la musique. Il n’oublie pas tout, jusqu’à la fin le volume sonore restera acceptable. Et tant mieux, ses goûts musicaux ne sont pas aussi infernaux que ceux du précédent chauffeur.
Nous pensons alors à toutes ces fois où tous ces vietnamiens nous regardaient comme abasourdis alors que nous étions en train d’essayer de leur faire comprendre ce que nous voulions : et si en définitive le problème n’était pas qu’ils n’aient pas compris ? Si entre la musique à fond dans les bus et la musique à fond dans les bars à karaoké ils n’étaient pas tous devenus à moitié sourds ?
Quelque temps avant l’arrêt prévu, mais nous ne le savions pas, nos corps ont décidé qu’il était grand, grand temps de satisfaire à un besoin hygiénique et naturel. Nous sommes courageux, nous tenons le plus longtemps possible mais parfois vient le moment où plus tard sera trop tard. Nous mettons tous les moyens en œuvre pour faire comprendre à l’assistant du chauffeur qu’il faut s’arrêter et que l’urgence est surtout pour madame. Nous connaissons le mot Ve Singh mais nous ne savons pas traduire le mot : urgent. Notre insistance ne porte pas ses fruits et franchement ce n’est pas sympa. Ils n’ont manifestement aucune envie de s’arrêter. Il ne se passe pas beaucoup de temps avant que nous soyons obligés d’enjamber des gens puisque même les sièges rabattables de la partie centrale sont occupés. En quelque sorte nous forçons l’arrêt et la sortie. Il y a pas mal de monde à cet endroit, des marchands, des petits commerces, un village, donc. Nous nous sommes adressés à plusieurs personnes dont nous n’avons absolument rien tiré. Ah, ça, des mines patibulaires, ça n’a pas manqué par contre ! Ce coin du nord n’usurpe pas sa réputation. Dans le minibus, ils se sont impatientés au bout de 40 secondes chrono et ça n’a pas cessé de klaxonner. Nous ne rentrerons pas dans les détails mais nous avons fini par nous débrouiller tout seuls dans des conditions…des conditions…impossible de trouver l’adjectif qui convient. Nous sommes rentrés dans le minibus furieux mais dignes.
Il fut un temps où dans des circonstances équivalentes nous avons constaté plus de respect de certaines valeurs de base universelles chez des hôtes arabes, turcs ou berbères que chez certains vietnamiens ici et là. Passons.
Le reste du voyage se déroule dans un certain sentiment de légèreté. L’après-midi est très avancée lorsque nous arrivons à Ninh Binh. Avec beaucoup de conviction, nous esquivons les rabatteurs pour hôtels, les motos-taxis et autres taxis afin d’opter pour le sérieux et la fiabilité de la compagnie Mai Linh. Pourtant, nous sommes surpris de nous voir proposer d’entrée par le chauffeur un forfait de 210000 dongs pour parcourir les six à huit kilomètres reliant Ninh Binh à Tam Coc. Là, il tombe mal, on ne nous la fera plus. Nous lui rappelons que son véhicule est un taxi et qu’un compteur y est monté. Comme pour les autres petites arnaques déjouées, il rit de bon cœur, sans amertume et sans mauvaise conscience. Pour la petite histoire, en ajoutant un crochet en ville pour retirer du liquide à un distributeur puis en se faisant amener à l’hôtel juste après Tam Coc, cela nous revient à 122000 dongs. Le gars avait dû inverser les chiffres….Par dessus le marché, le chauffeur souhaite garder la monnaie sur les 130000 dongs que nous lui remettons. Nous réussissons à récupérer 5000 et laissons tomber pour le reste. Evidemment, ce n’était pas pour l’argent mais pour le principe. Est-ce surprenant que jour après jour ce genre de comportement agace de plus en plus ? Dix fois ça va, cinquante fois…
Nous voilà enfin à l’un de ces moments tant attendus avec beaucoup de curiosité : devant la fameuse Maison chez Loan, le rendez-vous privilégié des français.
Nous avions imaginé un hôtel perdu au milieu des rizières. C’est toujours différent de ce que l’on imagine. Très proche de l’arrière, il y a des falaises de calcaire en surplomb sur les côtés, un petit canal avec de très modestes parcelles de riz , mais aussi de petits plans d’eau et des gravats. En face de l’hôtel, il y a la route au premier plan et au second plan un tableau magnifique avec un village dans la verdure, des rizières et sur tout l’horizon une succession de ces très beaux pics calcaires qui font la renommée des lieux. Disons-le tout de suite : en arrivant dans la région de Tam Coc, nous sommes immédiatement sous le charme. Quelques coups d’œil nous suffisent pour juger que l’endroit est à la fois mignon et magique. Il nous semble ressentir plus de sérénité qu’ailleurs. Nous encourageons les voyageurs à y passer plus d’une journée. Tam Coc est l’un de nos plus beaux souvenirs du Vietnam.
L’accueil est bien à la hauteur de sa renommée : l’élégante Loan , assise avec des amis, se lève de suite et se précipite pour nous souhaiter la bienvenue. Sommes-nous bien au Vietnam ? Elle s’adresse à nous dans un excellent français et nous nous sentons bien sur le champ. La douceur, la gentillesse, le côté absolument positif de Loan tranchent avec ce que nous avons maintenant l’habitude de vivre. N’empêche qu’on perçoit aussi la femme de caractère, la femme volontaire en affaires, l’organisatrice.
Pour ce qui est de l’hôtel, nous avons pu nous en faire une assez bonne idée. N’ayant réservé par mail que deux mois et demi plus tôt, toutes les chambres n’étaient déjà plus libres pour nos dates. Nous en ferons donc trois différentes sur quatre nuits, nous connaissons à présent chaque étage.
Les ouvriers qui ont travaillé sur cette bâtisse ne méritent pas de médaille. Il y a eu du bricolage de partout. S’il pleut, il y a quelques petites fuites depuis le toit jusque dans le couloir du dernier étage. Les bruits dans le couloir et l’escalier s’entendent dans toute la maison. Dans l’une des salles de bain, la baignoire semble en plastique, elle coule et tout à coup vous constatez que l’eau ne s’écoule pas vers l’orifice prévu à cet effet dans le coin de la pièce mais directement vers la chambre à coucher. Si nous y avions pensé, vous auriez pu visionner nos photos en train de passer le balai-raclette à poil et en glissant. N’empêche, au final chez Loan pas d’inconfort, pas d’agitation et on s’y sent bien.
La première impression en entrant dans les chambres est excellente : c’est totalement propre et totalement parfumé, ça c’est un détail qui compte. Chaque chambre a ses particularités : certaines n’ont pas de frigo, certaines n’ont pas d’armoire, l’une a des volets mais pas de fenêtre, une autre a des douches-toilettes minimalistes, les lits nous ont paru de qualité inégale, globalement confortables tout de même…Et il y a des balcons. Disons que si les prix étaient moins élevés de trois ou quatre dollars par nuit, cela nous semblerait plus juste.
Des repas et des boissons sont proposés. On vous fait gentiment ce que vous voulez, parfois quand vous le voulez. Nous aurons le temps de tester plusieurs plats différents, il est incontestable que cette cuisine est largement parmi les meilleures que nous ayons connues au Vietnam. Qui plus est à des prix très compétitifs. Nous nous souvenons avec plaisir des bons nems d’une dimension généreuse et particulièrement du plat découverte avec plusieurs composantes, lequel a un évident goût de reviens-y.
Même le café au lait est meilleur qu’ailleurs.
Loan fait de son mieux pour être disponible, branchée qu’elle est parfois en même temps par une femme de ménage, une cuisinière et trois clients différents qui veulent la solliciter. Le premier jour, il aurait presque fallu prendre un ticket !
Elle ne prend aucun pourcentage sur l’organisation d’excursions et juste dix pour cent pour la personne de sa connaissance s’occupant de la réservation de billets de train ou de bus. Il y a internet, prêt gratuit de vélos et une grande terrasse. L’endroit est idéalement placé par rapports aux différents sites proches ou lointains à visiter.
On voit un petit bout de chantier, il y a un camion et une pelleteuse, il y a du projet d’agrandissement dans l’air. Beautiful Loan Resort ?
Il fait une chaleur incroyable, c’est la fin d’une journée torride sur Tam Coc. Plus de 40 degrés comme pour les cinq jours dans le nord est. Notre premier réflexe est de sortir et de parcourir les quelques mètres jusqu’à la vendeuse de jus de canne à sucre au bord de la route. Nous demandons le prix, elle nous dit one dollar pour deux verres. A notre réaction de dingues, elle passe immédiatement à 10000 dongs le verre. Nous les obtenons à 5000 dongs le verre, il n’est pas impossible que soyons sujets par moments à une surréaction dans le marchandage. Ou de petits excès de méfiance aigue. Bon, il ne faut pas s’en étonner non plus…
En nous retournant, nous avisons un mignon bébé endormi dans un hamac à deux pas de là. La dame ne perd pas le nord : photo baby one dollar ! Des photos, on en a déjà 18 centaines, merci, sans façon.
Le soir, nous nous couchons en bénissant une fois de plus l’inventeur de la climatisation.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
J'ai bien peur que Larsay ne puisse pas pas entièrement confirmer
bonjour et merci Maitre Larsay
je savais que tu allais nous donner des informations interessantes.
moi mes infos proviennent d'un ancien officier de Ho Chi Minh (parfaitement francophone) qui a vecu la guerre en direct..je ne fais que repeter ses dires..
si vous n'aimez pas mes informations, ne les lisez pas, lisez autre chose, mais respectez les car elles serviront a d'autres
Surprise au réveil : c’est le gris et la pluie ! Il y a une alternance de crachin et de fortes averses. Il fallait bien qu’un jour ça nous tombe dessus. Nous avions eu beaucoup de chance jusque là.
Au cours du petit-déjeuner, nous voyons partir et revenir des touristes en burkas imperméables et parapluie. Ce n’est pas très tentant.
Nous enchaînons les cafés au lait et prenons notre temps, nous sommes conscients que trois semaines à ce rythme là auraient même suffi, nous n’avons pas eu l’occasion de nous reposer.
Nous passons la matinée à trainer, nous sympathisons un peu avec un couple de français qui ont une fillette très éveillée et très dynamique. La transition est toute trouvée : nous avons eu maintes occasions de nous émerveiller en observant ces tout petits vietnamiens, garçons et filles, qui sont mignons à croquer. Ces petits bouts de chou, jouant dans la rue, portés par leur maman ou trimballés sur une motocyclette. Ce qui nous a frappés, ce sont ces filles si jeunes d’apparence qui ont déjà un bébé. Souvent leur comportement nous donnait l’impression qu’elles jouaient à la poupée…
Nous n’avons mangé que chez Loan. Nous avons bien jeté un coup d’œil ailleurs mais dans le village ni les prix ni l’apparence des petits restaurants ne nous ont encouragés à tester ailleurs. Nous nous sommes ainsi régalés à midi du copieux plat de nouilles sautées.
Une accalmie semble se présenter en cours d’après-midi et nous en profitons pour tenter une sortie au village. Nous découvrons donc le fameux embarcadère de Tam Coc, à côté duquel il y a un petit marché. Un petit ananas pour la route en regardant deux ou trois biquettes se promener là-dedans et le hasard des pas nous amène sur un petit chemin à côté de maisons anciennes.
Nous ne le savions pas mais il s’agit en fait du chemin qui mène à la vallée du soleil et au temple Thai Vi . Peu à peu nous pénétrons dans l’un des petits coins les plus enchanteurs que nous ayons pu connaitre. C’est un vrai havre de paix que ces trois kilomètres menant au fond de la vallée. Il y a un endroit, juste après un petit pont sous lequel passent les barques, qui nous a fait un effet magique : en face de nous, en arrière-plan, une légère brume enveloppant les sommets karstiques et deux cents mètres devant nous, au-dessus du chemin de terre, les frondaisons de deux arbres qui se rejoignent. On dirait une image du pays des hobbits. Sur le côté, au sommet d’un petit pic, nous nous apercevons que les deux taches claires sont en fait des chèvres. Mais comment ont-elles fait ?
Le temple niché au fond est charmant, l’orange et le rouge ressortent de la grisaille. Nous avons un échange très sympathique avec le vieil homme et sa fille qui s’en occupent. Le pauvre a perdu sa femme en mars dernier, il est bien triste en nous montrant les photos qu’une touriste bordelaise a prises quelques mois plus tôt et a eu la gentillesse de lui envoyer. Nous ressentons sa tristesse et cela nous chagrine, ils sont si beaux, ensemble sur la photo…
Il ne tombe que quelques gouttelettes mais assez régulièrement. Monsieur tient le parapluie au-dessus de l’appareil photo de madame pour qu’elle puisse s’adonner à sa passion en toute sécurité pour son matériel.
Seule ombre au tableau vers la fin du chemin du retour, cette décharge à ciel ouvert installée à flanc de colline à l’entrée de la vallée. Ce n’est pas énorme, pourtant quelle verrue dans un tel paysage. Comment peut-on, ici justement ?
Nul besoin de courir toute une journée, ces deux heures à musarder dans ce cadre valaient à elles seules le déplacement.
La pluie tombe un peu plus fort encore le soir, alors nous nous vengeons sur les gros nems.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Par manque de temps, je n'ai malheureusement pu lire ce matin que quelques extraits de ton long
carnet de voyage. Mais je peux te dire dès à présent une chose...
Je vais très vite revenir pour prendre cette fois le temps de me délecter chapitre après chapitre,
de ce très beau récit agrémenté de bien jolies photos (mes compliments à Madame) ! 😉
Ton carnet semble se lire à la manière d'un scénario de film et c'est justement ce qui me plaît en lui ! 🙂
Alors je te dis à très bientôt pour...
Te livrer mes impressions définitives, une fois que je l'aurai lu dans son intégralité !!! 😉
Toujours cette pluie intermittente. Une petite pause de temps en temps laisse quelques espoirs, vite douchés.
Cela reste néanmoins assez calme dans la matinée, ce qui nous encourage à tenter une sortie au village. Il y a quelques commerces près de l’embarcadère, nous allons voir les produits, essentiellement de la confection. Dans le premier, la femme qui s’y trouve donne assez rapidement une fin de non recevoir à nos tentatives de marchandage. Celles-ci sont pourtant nécessaires pour se faire une idée du prix quand on ne le connait pas à l’avance.
Il est bon de ne pas renoncer tout en restant serein dans ces circonstances puisqu’à la deuxième tentative nous rencontrons un marchand sympathique, que la pluie n’a manifestement pas mis de mauvaise humeur. Il maitrise un peu le français et semble bien apprécier notre humour. Du coup, nous en remettons une couche et le marchandage est ponctué de quelques fous rires communicatifs, ce qui est bon pour le moral de tout le monde. Il est d’autant plus facile d’obtenir un bon prix lorsqu’on ne montre pas un intérêt excessif pour la marchandise souhaitée et qu’on demande un rabais plus important en cas de choix d’un produit supplémentaire. Nous utilisons toutes les ficelles en argumentant auprès du vendeur que ces produits viennent peut-être de Chine et qu’ils lui reviennent dix fois moins cher. Il est mort de rire. Puis nous avisons un énorme et massif meuble de famille en bois qui trône dans la pièce à côté pour lui montrer que nous avons déjà compris que c’est un homme riche. Il n’en peut plus. Un bon truc qui plait toujours c’est de montrer ses vieilles tennis usées en disant que voilà, c’est la preuve qu’on n’a pas trop les moyens. Ou de sortir un billet de 10000 dongs en ayant un air surpris agrémenté d’une moue pleurnicharde. Il y a de quoi avoir honte, mais sur le moment c’est trop drôle et puis il n’y personne sur place qui nous connaisse, après tout ! Nous faisons cesser sa souffrance avant d’aller trop loin et au final la petite dame obtient un ensemble typique, la tenue traditionnelle du genre de celles habituellement portées par Loan, pour ceux qui connaissent, ainsi qu’une très belle chemisette noire en soie avec de jolis motifs en léger relief le tout pour 350000 dongs. Au vu de la réelle qualité de ces vêtements, c’est une belle affaire. Nous prenons soin avec plaisir de souhaiter une bonne journée au commerçant, avec notre plus beau sourire, et sans forcer.
Il pleut un peu plus fort, ce n’est pas la peine d’insister, la journée ne sera pas resplendissante, nous le sentons bien. Nous nous arrêtons tout de même à une épicerie, ayant décidé d’emmener pour le retour quelques cartouches supplémentaires de Thang Long. Nous les avions payées précédemment 100000 puis 90000 dongs. Cette fois, la vieille dame nous demande 75000 dongs. Nous avons même demandé confirmation du prix et nous sommes demandés jusqu’où cela pouvait aller. Il y a de quoi donner des envies d’import-export ! La cartouche au prix d’un demi -paquet en France, avec une bien meilleure qualité. Nous repasserons par la suite l’une ou l’autre fois devant la boutique. A chaque fois, ça leur fait un grand plaisir de constater qu’on se souvient d’eux et de voir qu’on les salue.
La pluie s’est malheureusement intensifiée dans l’après-midi. Les nuages filaient rapidement mais étaient vite suivis d’autres, tout aussi chargés. Nous avons été contraints à renoncer à une grande partie de l’ambitieux programme de ces quelques jours, où nous devions aller à Trang An, Kenh Ga, Van Long, Mua Hang voire Hoa Lu. Des regrets toutefois minorés par la quantité de choses vues et par le fait que même une deuxième journée de relâche n’était pas de trop. Restait le secret espoir que la journée du lendemain nous soit un peu plus favorable…
Au cours de l’après-midi, Loan a fait venir des masseuses aveugles. Une bonne heure de soins assez intensifs qui ne reviendra qu’à 100000 dongs plus 50000 dongs pour partager les frais de taxi.
Inutile de broder pour la suite, nous tuons le temps comme nous le pouvons. Au dîner, le hot pot jumelé à la viande et aux fruits de mer tombe à pic.
La nuit sera à la limite de la tempête tropicale avec des périodes de précipitations très intenses succédant à de brèves accalmies elles-mêmes précédées de subits et vigoureux coups de vent.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Celà fait vraiment plaisir d'avoir des nouvelles de Loan , toujours aussi attentionnée.
Meme sous la pluie Tam coc a son charme : le matin il fallait sortir de l'hotel
et aller arpenter les ruelles du hameau en face de son hotel , j'aime bien ce coin .
Encore des superbes photos en allant sur Tai Vi : que de fois je l'ai franchi en vélo ce petit pont metallique
qui enjambe la riviere ou des milliers de visiteurs venus du monde entier , sont emmenés par les rameuses.
Jacques , si tu me lis , je croyais qu'il etait question qu'un hotel resort soit edifié dans ce secteur .
Le "massacre annoncé " n'aura pas lieu ?
Jacques , si tu me lis , je croyais qu'il etait question qu'un hotel resort soit edifié dans ce secteur .
Ben si, ca ete en panne pendant un an mais la construction a repris. Toutefois, le promoteur a l'air de vouloir proteger la beaute du lieu pour une fois, donc il a deja constuit le batiment Reception, avec un toit de pagode, et a plante des arbres pour le cacher entierement ; les bungalows sont prevus derriere, dans un grand renfoncement de la riziere, donc on ne les verra pas.
Méfiez-vous de la vie, car les ratés ne vous rateront pas!
En début de matinée, cela semble être le calme après la tempête. Dans les prés, les flaques sont devenues des mares.
Le répit parait avoir été bref, de nouvelles vagues de pluie se succèdent. Régulièrement, le ciel donne l'impression de s’éclaircir mais à chaque fois s’assombrit à nouveau. Nous plaignons le couple de malheureux qui est parti un peu plus tôt se promener avec ses enfants.
Un couple de belges présent sur place nous raconte qu’ils viennent de se voir annuler la croisière prévue en baie d’Halong. Nous nous félicitons de ne pas avoir programmé cette croisière en dernier, ayant voulu en cas d’annulation nous laisser la possibilité d’y retourner plus tard en raccourcissant du coup notre séjour à Tam Coc. Ce choix nous aura finalement donné la chance de voir Halong entre deux grosses vagues de pluie.
Pourtant, le moment est venu où ça commence à bien faire, le temps se fait long, ça y est, nous sommes reposés, il est ennuyeux de se sentir coincés. Nos prières montent alors au ciel et le bon repas de midi se fait sous une lumière un peu plus claire. De son côté, Loan est toujours aussi attentionnée envers ses clients et d’une gentillesse apparemment inaltérable.
Nous sommes un peu perplexes quand en début d’après-midi de petits coins de ciel bleu se mettent à apparaître. La chaleur qui monte d’un cran semble être un signe. Méfiants, nous nous décidons malgré tout à faire un petit saut à pied dans le village en face de chez Loan. C’est sympa mais rien d’inédit après tout ce que nous avions vu. Nous faisons demi-tour puis poussons un peu plus loin le long de la route. Nous réalisons que le beau temps parait tenir tant bien que mal et que voilà c’est maintenant ou jamais. Nous trottons en quatrième vitesse vers chez Loan pour récupérer des vélos.
Direction à droite en sortant. Il suffit de parcourir 500 mètres et c’est à nouveau le plaisir de se retrouver dans des lieux aussi charmants. Des enfants, des chiens fatigués sur la route, des rizières, des champs et ces beaux rochers.
Au bout de la route, la pagode de Bich Dong, en pleine nature et sous la falaise, avec son escalier menant aux grottes. Joli endroit. Il y a quelques femmes d’un certain âge qui essaient d’y vendre des babioles. Nous laissons à l’une d’entre elles, qui se débat contre des moustiques, notre spray de répulsif entamé. C’est l’un des très rares endroits où nous aurons rencontré quelques-unes de ces bestioles au cours de notre périple. Nous aurons été cette année bien plus attaqués dans notre jardin qu’au Vietnam.
Nous ne poussons pas nos investigations plus loin car l’heure tourne et même si quelques nouveaux nuages apparaissent nous saisissons notre dernière chance d’aller faire notre promenade en barque à Tam Coc. Le hasard nous attribue un rameur plutôt qu’une rameuse. Ca a l’air d’être un bon bougre et s’il ne parle pas le français il semble le comprendre. Il n’essaiera pas de nous vendre quoi que ce soit et comme il est 16 heures passé nous croiserons les vendeuses de boissons et autres, auxquelles nous ne serons donc pas confrontés. Nous faisons cette promenade sous le beau temps pendant quelques minutes. L’ensemble du parcours se fait sous un ciel menaçant, avec une averse de temps en temps. Il n’empêche que ces instants ont été parmi les plus intenses de notre séjour. C’est merveilleusement beau et tranquille tout au long du chemin. S’y retrouver seuls ajoute de la magie, bien sûr. Hormis le cadre absolument grandiose, on peut croiser des compagnies entières de canards, un martin-pêcheur, un champ de lotus. Le passage sous le petit pont, dans les trois grottes, les stèles érigées au bord de l’eau, les sommets des rochers environnés d'une légère brume, tout ce panorama, cela ne se raconte pas, cela n’est ni à photographier ni à filmer : il faut absolument le vivre ! Notre accompagnateur ayant été si souriant et si aimable, ça n’en a été que plus agréable. Nous lui donnons la pièce d’un euro qu’il nous réclame soi-disant pour sa collection et lui laissons un généreux pourboire. Ce travail est fatigant, surtout lorsqu’on n’est plus très jeune.
Nos ultimes découvertes seront pour le lendemain.
Nous passons alors notre dernière nuit au Vietnam.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Pour ce dernier jour, la météo nous fait un petit cadeau : c’est un soleil accompagné de beaux nuages blancs qui se présente à nous. Nous avions demandé à Loan de nous trouver un chauffeur qui pourrait d’abord nous accompagner pour des visites puis nous amener à l’aéroport. Bien entendu elle nous a arrangé ça sans difficultés. On trouve forcément toujours quelqu’un pour une excursion, ce n’est pas la peine de s’inquiéter. Si pour nous le tarif est raisonnable, une telle journée est une aubaine pour n’importe quel vietnamien, financièrement parlant. Il faut juste bien préparer son coup et partir avec un chauffeur qui aura été briefé sur un parcours précis. Nous avons décidé de ne pas construire un parcours chargé, la prudence pousse un voyageur raisonnable à se retrouver le moins loin possible de l’aéroport sur le dernier jour et à s’y rendre plutôt largement à l’avance. Une crevaison, un petit accident, un souci quelconque peuvent malheureusement faire rater un avion si on prévoit trop juste. Bien que le vol ne soit qu’autour de minuit, nous savions bien que nous passerions de longues heures à Noi Bai, pour notre quatrième passage.
Nous savions bien que nous aurions la bise de Loan au moment de quitter les lieux, mais même si c’est devenu un grand classique que certains critiquent, il y a de la chaleur humaine et un côté si charmant là dedans que c’est réellement agréable. Comme tout le monde, nous nous voyons remettre un sachet de petites bananes pour le départ, une attention pas si anodine en fait…
Nous repartons vers l’est, du côté de Nam Dinh. Nous avons programmé la visite de deux sites. La première visite nous mène donc à la pagode de Co Le. Il n’y a pas un chat hormis quelques petits vietnamiens qui trainent par là. La première chose que l’on voit est cette très grande et belle tour de 12 étages qui vaut quasiment à elle seule le déplacement. Les abords sont un peu inondés, ce n’est pas étonnant. C’est une belle surprise que cette énorme tortue en pierre que nous apercevons à l’arrière en en faisant le tour. Ensuite, un pont mène au temple, qui est en fait un grand ensemble architectural.
On peut y admirer un petit pont couvert, un étang avec une immense cloche immergée en son milieu, deux gigantesques vases de trois mètres de haut à côté de la porte d’entrée, plusieurs bâtiments, un kiosque avec une autre cloche. Le lieu est calme et verdoyant, encore un endroit à photos, nous sommes enchantés de notre bonne idée.
Sachant que nous aurons du mal à être en retard pour le soir, nous prenons tout notre temps pour la visite. Tant et si bien que lorsque nous revenons notre chauffeur allait nous déclarer disparus et qu’il était temps d’aller déjeuner.
Nous avons circulé un bon moment au centre de Nam Dinh à la recherche d’un restaurant. C’est là qu’on se rend compte une fois de plus que dans les endroits non touristiques on est un peu au bout du monde. Pas de vrai restaurant, pas sous nos yeux en tout cas. Comme toujours, le chauffeur est aussi largué que nous. Nous finissons donc par le laisser choisir un endroit qui ressemble à un bar à bière, mais du genre local, hein…La patronne est toute disposée à nous préparer à manger, il n’y a guère de choix, ils rigolent bien quand on leur demande des nems. Ah, mais les nems, monsieur dame, ce n’est que dans les endroits touristiques ! Nous acceptons donc des nouilles aux légumes avec un peu de viande. Comme dans tous les établissements ne payant pas de mine, c’était excellent et très bon marché. Nous essayons encore de trainer un peu mais déjà le chauffeur s’inquiète pour l’horaire. Généralement c’est pour eux une obsession de rentrer le plus tôt possible pour en finir mais aussi d’éviter autant que possible de rouler de nuit, ce qui est bien sûr fort compréhensible.
Nous prenons la route pour la seconde pagode, celle de Pho Minh au village de Tuc Mac à l’ouest de Nam Dinh. La tour est nettement moins haute et moins belle que la précédente mais elle a six siècles de plus. Cela fait sept siècles que ses 700 tonnes résistent, nous constatons que l’assise en pierre s’est même courbée sous le poids, c’est assez remarquable. Le plus intéressant, c’est toutefois la pagode. Il y a de nombreuses statues à l’intérieur, parmi les plus remarquables que nous ayons pu admirer.
Nous avons fait l’impasse sur la pagode de Kéo, qui se trouve dans la région, au vu de l’horaire nous aurions pu l’inclure dans le programme mais avec le recul et les photos qui nous en restent nous pensons avoir fait le bon choix en ce qui nous concerne. Une journée d’excursion autour de Nam Dinh pourrait être très agréable pour compléter quelques jours de villégiature à Tam Coc. Peut-être une idée à creuser pour les futurs partants…
Il est autour de 14 heures lorsque nous entamons le trajet vers l’aéroport, distant de 130 kilomètres. Un premier arrêt au bord de la route pour déguster une dernière fois un jus de canne à sucre, puis un second dans un hypermarché pour quelques friandises, à la fois pour manger quelque chose en début de soirée et parce qu’il nous reste des dongs. Quand on arrive comme ça dans une grande surface au milieu de nulle part, a fortiori hors des endroits touristiques, on comprend mieux ce que peut être la vie des stars. A part les autographes…Dans chaque allée, chaque rayon, les vietnamiens vous regardent, estomaqués, éberlués, hypnotisés. On peut aussi se demander comment les vendeurs d’électroménager peuvent tenir le coup avec toutes ces télés et ces mini-chaines réglées avec le son au maximum. A la caisse, une mamie nous passe devant sans gêne, normal, un étranger n’a pas à lui passer devant.
Bien avant Hanoi, nous voyons le ciel s’obscurcir au loin, avec de gros éclairs en prime. Nous filons droit dessus et ne tardons pas à rouler sous des trombes de pluie. Dans ces conditions, les véhicules et les minibus qui nous dépassent à toute allure nous inquiètent, d’autant plus qu’à certains endroits de l’autoroute il y a de vraies mares et que l’aquaplaning n’est pas loin.
Le passage par Hanoi dure une éternité. Il y a une grande quantité de bouchons, l’eau ruisselle de partout, on voit bien que certains quartiers sont inondés.
Apparemment, entre Hanoi et l’aéroport, un éclair a frappé un feu tricolore. Nouveau bouchon et satisfaction d’être très en avance, autrement nous aurions été un peu plus inquiets. Une fois arrivés, nous sommes un peu soulagés, seul notre chauffeur fait grise mine. La seule chose notable à l’aéroport aura été ce délicieux milk shake à l’avocat qu’on n’aurait pas imaginé aussi goûteux.
Le vol du retour sera long mais serein, nous repartons avec la satisfaction d’avoir eu de bien longues vacances, d’avoir bien vécu, d’avoir vu une énorme quantité de très belles choses dans un pays qu’il aurait été bien dommage de ne pas visiter.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Bjr,
je pars dans quelques temps au Cambodge et sud Vietnam et suis arrivee par hasard sur votre recit de voyage de 2012.
je l ai parcouru avec une avidité semblable à celle que l on peut avoir lorsqu on lit un roman et qu on veut en connaitre la fin bien vite.
vous avez du passer un temps enorme à la redaction, tant des notes prises en cours de route qu au récit lui meme.
Felicitations et merci pour toutes les indications precieuses contenues.
cordialement
josiane
Mille merci, nos voeux vous accompagnent pour ce voyage !
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
C'est bien tardivement que je vous adresse mes remerciements pour votre intervention.
Je profite pour cela du moment où je viens de remanier ce récit. Lorsque nous l'avons commencé, nous n'avions pas encore pensé à y joindre des photos. Lorsque nous l'avons fait, les photos se sont retrouvées hors de la chronologie du récit mais aussi en petit format.
Voilà qui est maintenant réparé et j'en ai profité pour en ajouter quelques-unes.
Je souhaite que cela permette à ce carnet de voyage d'être visualisé par de nouveaux forumeurs qui ne l'avaient pas trouvé et que certains en tireront profit pour y dénicher l'une ou l'autre idée.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Je me suis fait gronder par Françoise, ayant manqué de vous répondre.
Merci d'avoir pris la peine de mettre ce mot.
Les images ne suffisent pas à exprimer à quel point ce voyage-là aura été inoubliable...
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Votre carnet de voyage est magnifique et très enrichissant. Je ne l'ai pas lu entièrement mais ce que j'ai lu est magnifique et fort bien écrit. Cela donne envie de connaître la suite.
C'est extrêmement gentil de vous être donné la peine de réagir aussi rapidement.
Nous avons fait de notre mieux, c'était à la fois notre premier carnet sur VoyageForum et un séjour qui restera inoubliable ( surtout des bons souvenirs ).
Et vous pouvez aussi remercier Larsay, sans qui il n'y aurait pas du tout eu ni le même voyage ni le même carnet.
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
Du 4 au 23 août 2013, nous avons visité une petite partie du Vietnam. Hanoi, Nghia Lo, Tu Le, Mu Cang Chai, Sapa, Bac Ha, baie d'Halong, Tam Coc et la baie…
Après 2 premiers carnets de voyage publiés sur VF consacrés à des régions indonésiennes peu touristiques "La traversée des Célèbes (Sulawesi) en photos" ou…
Carnets de voyage › Vietnam / Cambodge · 23 replies
Nous avons effectué un magnifique voyage de plus de quatre semaines au Vietnam et au Cambodge, du 6 août au 2 septembre 2014. Voici un petit compte-rendu. Les…
Il y a un an, j'ai poste 2 longs messages "Grand tour du nord-est du Vietnam" et "Grand tour du NO du Vietnam". Depuis ce temps, je ne cesse de continuer a…
Voilà bientôt deux mois que nous sommes rentrés (voyage du 21/9 au 6/10), les impressions se sont un peu décantées, le tri des photos est en bonne voie et la…
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.
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 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.
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.
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.