Well, yeah, you're just too adorable! But not everyone is that lucky, mind you.
« 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
Welcoming without being intrusive, and a sense of humor that suited me. 😛
Since I haven’t been back to that country, I don’t know if that’s still the case.
Everyone will have their own idea based on what they’re looking for in terms of welcome.
An overbearing people isn’t "welcoming" to me.
The welcome should also be free—no expectations in return. Otherwise, it’s just a commercial attitude.
It’s about putting someone back on the right path, sharing a joke for a moment, smiling.
A brief moment of connection.
It’s definitely not about imposing yourself, being clingy, or inviting people left and right.
The welcome in the USA feels pretty off-putting to me. You never know if it’s commercial or genuine, if the words are just empty or if there’s real interest.
Some peoples can be both incredibly welcoming and a nightmare. I’m thinking of Egypt, Morocco, and Tunisia.
To be honest, I don’t really care about the welcome, at least not beyond a certain point.
It’s not what I’m looking for when I travel.
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I guess no one will mention the Germans. For one thing, it's not a major tourist destination—not the first place people think of, anyway.
I spent a lot of time with them in the past, and I can say it’s easy to end up invited over, and they’re happy to share what they have. One word sums up a lot of my memories: joviality.
Someone once told me that while they’re really friendly at first, they tend to drift away later. But who knows if that was just a personal experience or a general thing.
« 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
I suppose no one will mention the Germans. Already because it’s not a major tourist destination, not the first country people think of, anyway.
I’ve spent a lot of time with them in the past, and I can say you often end up being invited, and they’re happy to share what they have. The word that sums up a lot of my encounters is "joviality."
Someone once told me that while they’re super friendly at first, they tend to drop you later. But who knows if that was just a personal experience or a general thing.
Germany is a priority for me to visit, especially for its castles and forests. 🤔
As for the Germans I met while working in equestrian tourism, I had a different impression of them than you did.
They’d show up drunk as skunks at insane hours, especially given the temperatures, and they *had* to gallop ("gallop fast, Camargue horses go vroom," as they’d say like pigs). 😂 And most of them weighed over 130 kilos. 😱
Luckily, I had a pair of horses specially for obese riders that could handle the weight of these very particular clients. Unfortunately, there were a lot of broken saddles and tack (which they willingly paid for), but when it came to the horses, they couldn’t care less about exhausting them. So, not the best memories of people who don’t understand you shouldn’t drink like demons during siesta time in 50°C heat, especially if you want to enjoy horseback rides in the wild. On the other hand, you could say they’re fun-loving, but maybe a bit over the top.
Okay, but the topic is about welcoming *people*, not *welcoming people*.
« 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
They work while we wander around.
I think the key is really our own attitude.
That’s so true!
As I mentioned earlier, people are your own mirror...😇
Having said that, there’s "interested" hospitality and sincere hospitality. It’s not easy to tell the difference between the two, especially when you’re only passing through a country as a tourist for a few days—something we all do to some extent on this forum.
I lived and worked in the UK for a few years. I wouldn’t say Anglo-Saxons are the most welcoming people on earth, but they’re generally polite and courteous. It’s hard, if not impossible, to deepen relationships there.
In New Zealand and Western Australia, I found the locals much more sociable, but we were traveling as tourists.
The people we met in the western USA were very often open and welcoming. How many times were we invited into their homes... It’s really easy to strike up a conversation, but the relationships still tend to stay pretty superficial.
Without generalizing too much, people in all these countries are "helpful," a quality that France sadly lacks...
When traveling, I really enjoyed connecting with Iranians and Syrians. I found them quite disinterested, unlike in countries in the Near and Middle East that suffer from overtourism.
There are also a lot of "truly kind" people in the Balkans.
But for me, the award for kindness goes to Nepalis (when you’re a tourist). Even though most locals have a commercial interest in being helpful, many are very poor, yet they always go out of their way to make you happy. I honestly love going back to that country regularly. Such positive vibes...😇
Everyone will have their own idea based on what kind of welcome they're looking for.
True. In this discussion, we're talking about "accueil" (welcome) and "rencontres" (meet-ups). They’re not quite the same thing.
The welcome should also be free; the host shouldn’t expect anything in return. Otherwise, it’s just a commercial attitude.
Still, that commercial attitude—warm, personalized, and unobtrusive welcome—is really important to me. I hate feeling like a sucker being hustled when I walk into any shop or tourist spot.
I’d like to add one thing: the more openness you sow, the more sincerity you reap. No matter the country or the people ;)
hi, Tahitians are really welcoming.
When you arrive at Papeete Airport, they’re all playing the ukulele, wearing flower necklaces, and they personally give you a flower necklace as a gift.
They welcome you by saying *Te Onara*.
Anyway, I’m just imagining—I’ve never actually set foot in Papeete
I also think that, as has already been mentioned, the more touristy a place is, the more it's a real letdown. Too much of a good thing can be bad...
Not necessarily. It really depends on the visitor's attitude.
Finally, if the cultural gap between people is too big, the welcome can turn into an incident or discomfort.
Again, if the tourist with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop makes no effort and doesn’t give up any of their cultural norms, things can definitely go wrong.
To wrap up, I’d rather be greeted warmly in a shop, even if the interaction comes with a price tag.
I wasn’t seeing the discussion through the behavior of visitors. Simply put, where do you receive the best welcome, no matter who you are? That’s how I understood it.
You’d have to have visited a lot of countries to confidently weigh in on that. And spent several weeks in different places too.
On that note, for a region I know well, which of you have been to Alsace and what was your experience like in terms of hospitality?
« Tout le monde s'interroge sur comment laisser une meilleure planète à nos enfants, mais on devrait plutôt penser à laisser de meilleurs enfants pour notre planète. » Clint Eastwood
hello, Tahitians are very welcoming.
When you arrive at Papeete Airport, they’re all playing the ukulele, wearing flower necklaces, and they personally give you a flower necklace.
They welcome you by saying Te Onara.
Anyway, I’m just imagining because I’ve never set foot in Papeete
I can confirm. They’re indeed very welcoming to tourists. The ukulele at the airport upon arrival isn’t a myth. Back when we were there, they were even playing while masked (It was during the summer of 2021).
I had seriously considered requesting a transfer there for 3 years, but it didn’t happen. I probably would’ve lost my illusions...
good evening Nimou74, thanks for the reply. I may joke about things, but when it comes to Polynesia, there’s still another side to the story, isn’t there?
In the topic, there’s "people" and "welcoming"?
People are sedentary (or nomadic!) in places where they receive visitors. They’re welcoming when they offer you hospitality, share their lives, tell you about their lives, and take an interest in yours. That’s when we appreciate things, but sometimes the time—our "visit" time—is short! Still, we value the quality of the encounter and the possible exchanges!
I forgot in my "welcoming peoples"... Cubans!
And the Guatemalan Indians!
Burkinabés! The Japanese!
Good evening! Lillie
Attila once explained that meeting people while traveling wasn’t her priority. She also said she didn’t mind only being with other tourists while traveling.
I also like knowing who’s behind the usernames, so I’m taking note of what’s being said 😊
Latin Americans are generally very sociable (Indigenous peoples are still more reserved), they’ll tell you their life story really quickly, and we’re on a first-name basis right away. But they’re not "welcoming" in the sense that it’s very rare for them to invite you to their home—to eat or have coffee, for example.
And the only Latin American country where the people I met would say "welcome" to me was El Salvador.
Otherwise, as explorer and writer Alexandra David-Néel once said, "He who travels without meeting others isn’t traveling; he’s just moving around."
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
Yes, you could put it that way, but "meeting the other" in the anthropological sense doesn’t mean "having great encounters" or building warm, friendly, or cordial relationships.
For an anthropologist, "meeting the other" means much more broadly experiencing alterity—discovering that what we consider normal isn’t universal.
It’s mostly about perspective, listening, and observation.
Hospitality is a cultural construct, so in that sense, "the most welcoming people" for each of us is often the group where we find the closest match to our own idea of what hospitality should be.
For me, meeting others while traveling means exchanging and learning more about the country I’m visiting—and that’s exactly what happened. For example, in Guatemala, I wrote about it in my travel journal on Myatlas. On a bus, I met a woman who works in Human Rights with Indigenous peoples. She had known Rigoberta Menchú, the 1992 Nobel Peace Prize winner, for a long time. That encounter at the end of my trip was incredibly enriching; it gave me the chance to ask her lots of questions about things that had struck or shocked me during my journey.
What’s more, by talking to locals, they can also learn about the countries tourists come from. Still in Guatemala, a young Indigenous law student (also met on a bus!) was amazed that in France, 13- or 14-year-old girls aren’t mothers. She thought it was the same as in Guatemala.
In El Salvador, chatting with people taught me so much about the *maras*—horrors I had no idea about (at first, I even thought people were lying). I also learned about the civil war by talking to those who lived it (former guerrillas, refugees, etc.).
And in 2022, I was in Panama during the massive protests. There, too, I learned a ton because people were furious with the government and wanted to talk.
But I know many travelers focus mainly on landscapes, monuments, etc., and don’t engage with the local population. That’s a shame because travel is so much more rewarding when you connect with people. For me, it’s the best way to truly get to know a country.
And sure enough, talking to people makes you realize that what seems normal to us isn’t universal.
But to meet others, you first have to be open to exchange.
On another note, for a woman traveling alone in Latin America, it’s not uncommon to get all kinds of invitations from men, but that has nothing to do with a country’s hospitality.
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
"But to meet others, you first have to be open to exchange."
Open to exchange—or not, or not too much, or less—it’s already a judgment, an intellectual construct.
For me, there’s no need to exchange words, arguments, or experiences to meet others in the anthropological sense you mentioned.
That was just it 🙂.
If I understand correctly, your point aligns with this Seneca quote I also like: "What’s the point of traveling if you bring yourself along? It’s your soul that needs to change, not the climate."
But you should give some concrete examples....
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
Totally agree with you. Book knowledge isn’t really my thing... at least not for me. What matters is what you actually experience—the day-to-day reality.
Sometimes it’s pointless trying to explain...
There are those who overanalyze everything and those who only care about landscapes and animals... 😏
Yes, I’m bilingual, and it’s true that in Latin America, you don’t have to push people to talk to you—they’ll chat about anything and do it willingly, especially in Colombia, El Salvador, and Brazil (I get by in Portuguese but I’m not bilingual).
Indigenous communities tend to be more reserved, though.
On the topic of invitations, I just remembered that in Colombia, a Colombian family I met at a tourist site invited me to join them at some thermal baths. I turned them down because I wasn’t sure if the offer was genuine and I didn’t know the social norms there. Later, I asked some Colombians, and they told me the invitation was sincere and I could’ve gone with them without any issues.
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
He who travels without meeting others doesn’t travel—he merely moves.
Meh.
Some people only meet others during their travels, ignoring everything else.
Some only engage with others when they seem different, snubbing those who are like them.
Others only meet fellow travelers but never—or barely—locals.
Personally, I don’t travel to meet people.
But I inevitably do (the customs officer, the cop who fines me, hotel/restaurant/museum staff, train station clerks, pharmacists for traveler’s diarrhea, taxi drivers, hitchhikers, exhausted hikers, gas station attendants, mechanics, etc.).
It’s impossible not to cross paths with anyone, especially in overpopulated countries.
Sometimes, it’s really unfortunate.
I could do without crowds at tourist sites (so many potential encounters in one place: Chinese, Indians, Germans, Italians, Americans—*gulp*—French...) and certain people on hiking trails (silence is the best music on a trail).
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It’s impossible to never cross paths with anyone, especially in overpopulated countries
Hi there,
Personally, meeting people isn’t my main goal when traveling either, especially since you can’t plan encounters—they happen by chance. But the way I travel, alone and using public transport, means I inevitably meet people.
That said, encounters really enrich a trip—it’s a big plus. I notice the difference when I travel to countries where I don’t speak the language. Without exchanges with locals, something’s missing.
Anyway, in Latin America, not interacting with the locals—who are very sociable—means missing out on something, or even missing the whole point, I’d say.
In Brazil, I met some Spanish tourists who’d spent 9 or 10 days in the country, split between the Pantanal and the Amazon, staying in remote lodges. They saw tons of animals, but to me, they missed the essential part: Brazilians!
And when I talk about encounters, I don’t just mean "crossing paths" with people or meeting tourism professionals (hotel staff, restaurant workers, guides, etc.) or the pharmacist if I get traveler’s diarrhea. A real encounter means having meaningful exchanges about the country (or other topics), and people are even more willing to talk and share if they see you’re genuinely interested in what they have to say.
And meeting other travelers doesn’t bother me either.
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
it’s really about having exchanges about the country (or other topics), and people talk even more when they see the other person is interested in what they’re sharing.
Yes, you can listen, but in that case, take things with a grain of salt—you have to read between the lines. Between clichés, stereotypes, and polite small talk, there’s often not much of real interest to take away.
I think it really depends on the countries and continents.
In Latin America, while Indigenous peoples tend to be more reserved, that’s not the case for most locals.
In El Salvador, I heard some really critical and harsh opinions about Bukele, even though that’s not the dominant narrative. In Guatemala, I had conversations about machismo, the influence of evangelical churches, and more—these weren’t just superficial chats.
And some people open up even more because they know they won’t see you again.
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
Anyway, in Latin America, not interacting with the locals—who are very sociable—means missing out on something. I’d even say it means missing out on the essence of the experience.
That’s just my personal opinion.
For me, discovering the countries is essential.
I don’t understand people who take the bus, or worse, night buses, which don’t let you see the landscapes at all.
I think they’re missing out on the whole point of traveling.
Especially since this mode of transport doesn’t take you everywhere.
When it comes to the people you meet, the workers, they’re the ones most likely to open up and communicate.
I’ve learned so much more from them than from random encounters. Language barrier, cultural barrier—everything stays superficial.
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Personally, I never take overnight buses—I don’t recommend them in Latin America.
In Latin America, buses go pretty much everywhere since many people can’t afford a car. Otherwise, you finish the trip by taxi or tuk-tuk, and for visiting sites, you can occasionally book a tour with an agency.
Traveling by bus is traveling in immersion, at the pace of the locals, in direct contact with them. And in Latin America, riding the *chicken buses* is a real journey within a journey—I’ve seen so many things on those buses!
I’m not sure what you mean by "workers"??? Aren’t the people who take the bus workers too?
Anyway, you can meet locals in places other than buses, but it’s an excellent way to do so!
For me, the locals are the soul of a country. Ignoring them means missing the essence of the place.
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
Yes, night buses are even more dangerous than daytime ones, and not just in South America.
In Latin America, buses go almost everywhere
They don’t go where I’m headed—that is, vast, nearly deserted natural spaces.
For there to be a bus, there need to be people.
If there aren’t any...
Buses restrict travel to populated areas.
That means forgetting a good part of the world’s land.
Plus, buses are actually rare in parts of the world where buying an individual means of transport has become possible thanks to rising living standards.
I’ve noticed that since my first trips, about thirty years ago, public transport options have become increasingly scarce in many countries.
For visiting sites, you can occasionally take an excursion with an agency
Not at all the ideal solution for an independent traveler...
On top of that, it’s usually more expensive, and you stay on the well-trodden paths.
For peace of mind, you’ll often have to do without.
I really only take these when I have no choice! (Places only accessible by boat, for example).
Traveling by bus means traveling immersed, at the pace of the locals, in contact with them;
In the past, it was indeed a good way to observe people for those who enjoy that, for those with a more ethnographic view of travel.
That’s less and less the case now, as tourists increasingly take over public transport.
And while old buses at least let you see the landscapes, that’s no longer true today.
Travelers find themselves in a moving coffin, their view blocked by dirt and grimy old curtains.
Up front, the space is closed off, and a TV plays some noisy flops.
I did the same route in Ecuador by rental car and by bus.
Long live the rental car...
I’ve had my fill of buses when it wasn’t financially or safety-wise possible to do otherwise. It could be fun, but also often grueling and tiring.
Plus, I don’t like being a sideshow. It’s really uncomfortable being stared at for an entire trip because people have never seen Westerners before.
Now that renting a car has become much easier and cheaper, I don’t regret only using public transport occasionally.
In cities, it’s perfect!
I don’t know what you mean by "workers"???
All the people who have a job, whom you meet in the context of their work.
Otherwise, you can meet locals in places other than buses
At an airport, in a hotel, at a restaurant, while grocery shopping, on a walk, breaking down by the side of the road, when you’re sick, at the movies, in a museum...
For me, the locals are the soul of a country; ignoring them means missing the essence
For you.
There are many types of travelers and many reasons for traveling.
The locals are *your* focus.
But not necessarily everyone else’s—others might not feel they’re missing the essence by not focusing on people.
That’s just how it is, and it’s great that we’re not all the same.
Imagine a world where everyone thought the same way, where everyone went in the same direction.
A nightmare!
The hardest part is accepting that others are different, that their path is just as valid as any other.
That’s why it’s essential to clearly state your question when opening a thread on this forum.
We often get the impression there’s only one way to travel, so it doesn’t seem necessary to specify what kind of traveler you are.
But it’s crucial!
The answers won’t be the same at all!
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I’m not going to reply to everything and spend the whole day answering on the bus since that wasn’t the original topic.
Just to clarify, in Central America there aren’t any tourists on chicken buses because they have a reputation for being dangerous (accidents and armed robberies). I was the only tourist, and people kept asking if I was going to work or visit family—they didn’t think I was a tourist!
As for excursions, if I do any, it’s really occasional. In my last three big trips, I didn’t do any at all. And if I do, I negotiate the price, especially if I speak the language (in Costa Rica, I paid much less than a French tourist couple, and the manager asked me not to tell them what I’d paid).
Of course, everyone travels in their own way. The quote you mentioned in the first post wasn’t mine—it was from Alexandra David-Néel—and I completely agree with what she said.
A while ago, on a forum, I read about someone’s itinerary for a one- or two-week road trip in Greece with their family. They wanted to meet Greeks, but their trip was by car, staying one night here, two nights there, rushing from one tourist site to another. I couldn’t help but wonder *where* and *when* they’d actually meet any Greeks...
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
Ground transportation is total immersion in the daily lives of locals. Whether you take a bus—from the most luxurious to chicken buses—a shared taxi, or even a regular taxi, it’s a golden opportunity to admire the scenery and chat with people, often during the inevitable 30-minute meal breaks for trips longer than 4 hours.
I’ve taken school buses in Latin America.
There were tourists on them (Guatemala).
One time it was even...
I’ve also been the only tourist in other countries (Vietnam, Laos, Indonesia).
It’s, as mentioned before, often pretty tedious (the curious creature thing).
he wanted to meet Greeks, his road trip was by car, spending one night here, two nights there, rushing from one tourist site to another, and I wondered where and when he’d actually meet any Greeks...
Staying with locals, eating every meal at restaurants, on the sites...
Any place can be an opportunity to meet people.
You just have to be good at it.
Meet-ups happen when you make them happen. You leave some people somewhere for 5 minutes (anywhere, really) and they end up striking up a conversation with one or more strangers.
If the person who asked the question is like that, they’ll meet Greeks no matter what.
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It has nothing to do with cars, bikes, motorcycles, or hiking.
Especially now.
Plus, you can’t just stop anywhere to admire the scenery or take a break.
Generally, public transport is either a last resort when you lack the means (especially at night), an eco-friendly challenge, or a way to travel in itself (to be among people).
to chat with people,
That’s only possible if you share a common language...
I picked up some Bolivians while hitchhiking. Well, zero conversation—they didn’t speak English, French, or even Spanish.
Same in Armenia.
On a bus, you’re unlikely to run into an English-speaking Indian or Indonesian, etc. It’s easier at hotels, where more guests have some education.
Maybe in Southern Africa it was easiest to connect, since English is widely spoken there.
In Morocco too, even if not everyone speaks French by a long shot.
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I took some school buses in Latin America.
There were tourists inside (Guatemala).
One time it was even like that...
I’d be really curious to know where you saw a chicken bus full of tourists in Guatemala?
And how did the tourists manage to fill it up all by themselves?? When you know how chicken buses work, it seems really surprising.
To get to Joyabaj, Nebaj, Acul, Chajul, or Todos Santos Cuchumatan, did you see chicken buses full of tourists?
I once saw two tourists between the very touristy Panajachel and Sololá (the town next door), but otherwise, I didn’t see any—even though I spent two months in Guatemala and took *plenty* of chicken buses!
Anyway, I can just picture you on a chicken bus... you must’ve suffered terribly.
I always say this mode of transport isn’t for everyone...
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
Ground transportation is total immersion in the daily life of the locals. Whether you take a bus—from the most luxurious to chicken buses—a shared taxi, or even a regular taxi, it’s a golden opportunity to admire the scenery and chat with people.
I totally agree with you, but to make the most of it, you’ve gotta speak Spanish, be open-minded, and not be afraid of people.
On chicken buses (which they call "camionetas" in some countries), the "show" also includes all the vendors who board and give long speeches trying to sell stuff—it’s often hilarious. Some even get on to preach religious sermons to the passengers, etc.… Chicken buses are a trip within a trip—I’ve seen and heard it all on them.
Otherwise, in some countries, there are no luxury buses—just chicken buses, especially if you venture off the usual tourist routes.
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
For the rest, tourists were getting on and off school buses bound for towns and villages that were both touristy and still inhabited, like Panajachel and Chichicastenango, or heading to less frequented spots like the Belize border crossing.
I’m talking about a time that people under 25 can’t even imagine...
Back then, there were pretty much only school buses, except on major routes where the Guate-Antigua shuttles ran.
Otherwise, I picture you on a chicken bus... you must’ve suffered like crazy
Why on earth???
The distances were short. Honestly, it wasn’t the worst mode of transport I’ve taken in the world.
For Guatemala, the overnight bus ride from Guate to Flores was a far less comfortable experience...
For India, I remember a trip where the bus (a real antique) was shaking its passengers like in that Orangina ad...
I had terrible back pain by the time we arrived...
But what choice did we have?
When it comes to public transport, the Colombo-Galle train was the most grueling. It was basically like riding the RER on a strike day...
As for the most terrifying public transport experience I’ve had, it wasn’t on land—it was in the air, in Myanmar.
When the pilot announced that one engine had failed and we needed to reach Rangoon Airport because the nearest one wasn’t equipped for emergency landings, no one said a word—not even those looking to make friends.
Just because a traveler prefers transportation that suits their style doesn’t mean they can’t handle a ride on public transport.
It’s a prejudice.
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That's true. I'd forgotten about the street vendors on buses. It's unavoidable in Peru. There are also guitarists in Mexico. The last one I saw was at the entrance to Bogota (the driver let him in at a red light), selling pens.
I’ll take this chance to answer the forum title—I found Colombians particularly welcoming.
Street vendors’ pitches are often hilarious, especially those selling medicines and miracle creams—like a cream made from snake venom that solves all your problems (foot odor, skin blemishes, etc.).
I’ve seen it all on chicken buses: religious sermons about sin while the bus TV blasts a reggaeton music video—it’s pretty funny too.
Another time, a passenger boarded with a massive portable speaker blasting upbeat religious songs at full volume, and everyone else just sat there, completely unfazed...
In Guatemala, I also saw someone get on to ask for money because they’d tried to cross the U.S. border, got turned away, and needed cash to get home. They told the whole story in detail.
Another day, a man on crutches recounted his accident in *great* detail and even took off his shirt so we could see the scars on his shoulders.
I could write pages and pages about chicken buses...
To me, chicken buses are a microcosm of Latin America—you find everything: machismo, religion (windshields often have Bible verses next to a sticker of a naked woman *and* maybe a sexist phrase), reggaeton with *very* explicit lyrics blasting; among the passengers, you see all layers of society: schoolkids in uniforms, soldiers, nuns, farmers with their typical "sombrero" and a machete at their belt, etc...
Riding a chicken bus is a whole experience! It’s nothing like the sterile buses in Western countries.
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
My funniest bus experience was the La Paz–Arica trip.
Here we go, the bus sets off for a long journey with its cargo of Bolivian and Chilean passengers, plus a few tourists.
After two hours, a German guy asks about the toilets.
Well, there aren’t any.
The German goes back to his seat, looking pretty disappointed, beads of sweat forming on his forehead—you could tell he wasn’t feeling great.
Ten minutes later, he asks the driver when the next stop is.
At the border! In a good hour!
The German sits back down, then stands up again and begs the driver to stop.
Being a good sport, the driver pulls over.
The German rushes outside and disappears out of sight.
Passengers take advantage of this unexpected stop to get some air and have a smoke.
Three minutes later, the driver signals it’s time to go and starts the engine again.
Without the German...
Luckily, the whole bus remembers him and shouts in unison, laughing: "We forgot the gringo, stop!"
And there he is, the poor guy running after the bus while pulling up his pants...
He got back on to cheers from the crowd—I think he never took a bus without toilets again after that...
Not great, especially with traveler’s diarrhea...
He would’ve had a nightmare on that bus in Indonesia that didn’t stop for 10 hours except to pick up passengers on the fly.
When it finally deigned to turn off the engine, all the passengers scattered to relieve themselves...
Anyway, the bus between Bolivia and Chile went through stunning landscapes—landscapes I couldn’t fully appreciate, especially since the most interesting part happened after dark...
I would’ve gladly done the same trip by car, which would’ve been much better for me if I’d had traveler’s diarrhea...
Everyone could write a book of road anecdotes, not just about Latin America.
We’re a long way from the sanitized buses of Western countries
You only have a few years left to take this kind of trip you love.
I’ve really noticed the difference over the years, and buses will soon be the same everywhere.
Street vendors are already persona non grata on some companies.
Which is a good thing for countries because modern bus services mean the country is getting richer.
Édifices religieux : concours de photos amical d'août 2026
Rubrique Jeux Voyages
C'est le moment de poster vos meilleurs clichés !
En écho de discussions récurrentes sur le forum Maroc et ses célèbres infondés enquiquinements marrakchis, je m'interroge à nouveau sur le fameux "on". Qui…
J'aimerais savoir si vous avez déjà été déçu (e) d'un voyage, par rapport à ce que vous en attiendiez, ce que vous aviez lu ou de ce qu'on vous avait dit avant…
Tout est dans le titre et le pourquoi off course. Perso j'ai bien aimé mes voyages; ma grande déception est récente; le Cameroun pour l'accueil très décevant…
N'etant pas francais et ne vivant pas en France, je me pose la question de la necessité de boycotter ce pays en tout cas au niveau touristique. En plus d'un…
Expatrié à Barcelone depuis 2 ans, ca fait quelques mois que je suis complètement démotivé... voir même déprimé, très très déprimé... J’ai perdu le goût des…
Bonjour à tous et à toutes qui se retrouvent sur ce forum !
Je sais d’avance que ce que je vais dire ici ne va pas plaire à tout le monde, mais la franchise est une qualité, n‘est-ce pas ?
Voilà, cela fait moultes années que je retrouve une manie dans les postes francophones de plaquer des abréviations à tout bout de champ, comme une manière de montrer qu‘on est ‘introduit dans le sujet‘. Je m‘explique en donnant quelques exemples :
- - Dans des discussions sur le Pérou, je trouve ‘Aguas‘ pour ‘Aguas Calientes‘. Et s‘il s‘agit du Mexique, allez, ce sera ‘Aguas‘ pour ‘Aguascalientes‘ !
- - Pour le Guatemala, les ‘voyageurs‘ diront ‘Guaté‘ . Allez donc, dire ‘Guatemalas‘, ce serait peut-être le signe indiscutable de ne rien y connaitre sur le pays en question ???
- - De retour de l‘Indonésie, beaucoup diront à quel degré ils se sont familiarisés avec la langue du pays : le ‘bahasa‘. Bien sur, tout un chacun saura de quoi on parle, mais ça me hérisse tout de même, car la langue (l‘une des multiples langues) de l‘Indonésie, c‘est le ‘bahasa Indonesia‘. ‘Bahasa‘ veut d‘ailleurs dire ‘langue‘, et on retrouve ce mot d’origine Indienne ‘Bhāṣā‘ (c‘est du sanskrit au départ) ailleurs qu‘en Indonésie : en Thaïlande par exemple, toute langue sera ‘phasǎa‘ comme dans ‘phasǎa thaï‘ (le Thai officiel), ‘phasǎa iisǎan‘ (ce qu‘on parle dans le nord-est de la Thaïlande, ‘phasǎa angkrit‘ = l‘Anglais etc.
Suis-je un incorrigible pinailleur ? Peut-être. Mais je trouverais ridicule également si un étranger venait me dire qu‘il/elle a visité ‘Monte‘ pendant son voyage en France, cela ayant été Monte Carlo.
Je lis beaucoup en Anglais et je ne crois pas avoir rencontré une telle manie chez les anglophones.
Who’d like to share their best and worst travel memories in a few lines?
For me, it’s watching the TAJ MAHAL at sunrise and getting chased by dogs at the top of a mountain pass in GREECE on the way back from ISTANBUL.
THANKS GUYS
This is my 15,000th post, and it's a message I would have preferred never to write.
Patrick—Yangguizi—won’t be returning from his trek in Uganda. His health betrayed him in the mountains.
Like many of you, I laughed until I couldn’t anymore at his travel stories. I met him in Shanghai, then in Istanbul... We scoured restaurants—he was an incredible expert on world cuisines. We relived Korea, China. Always brilliant, so sharp, so funny, so down-to-earth. Being even a little bit his friend was something to be proud of. I think I envied him.
Patrick is still out there, of course...
He found his happiness running across the world. He’s on his path. He never doubted that "the traveler doesn’t even know if he’ll return one day."
Not sure this would’ve suited him, but his departure devastates me.
Alright,
Farewell, you foreign devil. Safe travels.
hello to all travelers with their eyes wide open to the desert...
I’ve always wondered what I was "doing" on this earth. And why my father, who died a few months after I was born—a former youngest French resistance fighter—joined the First Saharan Motorized Company in Atar and spent the rest of his life repairing army engines in Algeria, Mauritania, Senegal, Mali (which didn’t exist under that name back then), Morocco, and finally Algeria, where my mother was born and raised. (Believe me, it’s not "cool" being the child of a soldier in a country occupied by France, and even less so the child of a "pied-noir.")
Of course, I never got an answer: the dead don’t talk, and the army doesn’t either.
But here’s the thing—I had photos...
So naturally, one day I hit the road. I wanted to see, to understand.
It’s thanks to VF that I was able to do a little research on crossing the Morocco-Mauritania border, and I’m grateful to its members, just as I’m grateful to all those who welcomed me on the road for 14 years.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been wondering if I should talk about this or not...
It turns out the Mauritanians changed my life by asking for my help... And that started as early as February 2012... (Did I owe them something? No answer to that question.)
Ah, the irony—they saw me coming. But when you’re handed sick children and begged to do something, what would you have done? I’d worked in a hospital, so I knew a bit about the rules to follow. I didn’t hesitate.
And well, over all these years, I met doctors, surgeons, and together we organized care, evacuations of children, training for surgeons—even trying to stop children from having to travel outside their country. It was never easy. I’d like to thank those who supported us, as well as *La Chaîne de l’Espoir*, *La Fondation Face au Monde*, and everyone who built bridges between our two countries.
Unfortunately, despite the constant efforts of Mauritanian doctors and surgeons, some children couldn’t be helped in time. Today, I want to talk about four siblings—orphans of their mother—suffering from congenital glaucoma causing irreversible blindness. Their case was entrusted to me in 2020, just weeks before the big lockdown. We couldn’t do anything for them then, but when their father asked me for a gift, I rushed to my computer and wrote a story.
Through a tale, the children take a great journey, explore their country, and fulfill a dream. I never thought this book would be published—it was, in 2023.
This book pays tribute to Mauritania. It’s a message for those who know nothing about the hardships of life there, carrying both the harshness and beauty of an immense desert where you can travel by 4x4, bike, on foot, or by camel in complete safety. It bears witness to the kindness of Mauritanians toward travelers.
As a woman traveling alone in my vehicle—a now-rusted old Mercedes that no longer runs—I had the most beautiful encounters of my life there (I’ve seen other parts of the world...). The blind children of Choum, Atar, Nouadhibou, and Nouakchott will forever be in my heart.
Volunteer readers transcribed the book into a free audio version for the visually impaired. It’s available in sound libraries in France, the *Fondation Valentin Haüy*, and the Swiss Romande library.
I made my last trip to Mauritania in my old 4x4 to distribute the book everywhere, especially to its heroes and the school for the visually impaired in Nouakchott.
After that, I thought it was time to close the chapter because I no longer have the means or the strength to travel.
My publishers chose this title for it: *The Blue Eyes of the Desert*.
This publication helped a mission of Swiss volunteer ophthalmologists come to operate on glaucomas in Mauritania. I’m thrilled because they come back every year!
This adventure is ending, yes—everything must come to an end—but ultimately, it was born here, on the VF site!! So yes, I had to say it: THANK YOU!!!!!
Hi everyone,
I’m Loulou, a French expat who’s been living in Southeast Asia for about fifteen years, currently in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. A passionate walker at heart, I’ve trekked in Nepal (Thorung La, Mardi Himal), India, Vietnam, and I’m still planning new hikes (Char Dham, Langtang, Annapurna).
I’ve just published my first travel journal, recounting three months of walking and encounters across India. A portion of the sales goes to an educational center I support in Kep, for children whose parents work in the salt marshes.
I’m also working on a second book about Nepal with a musician friend, focusing on the Mardi Himal trek—two independent perspectives on the same journey.
Happy to swap stories with you about the Himalayas, India, Southeast Asia, or just the urge to hit the road and walk far from home.
Safe travels,
Loulou
Hi! It was totally by chance that I stumbled upon VoyageForum (an ad online and a story lol), and I’ve been reading some really old posts from 2011 about Thai massage schools—discussions on how to get by, accommodation, prices, etc. It reminded me of my own experience: I kept things simple by staying with a local family during my entire trip. I only shared all the expenses with them, which, I’ll admit, was super cheap… and I often traveled with them, which naturally opened a lot of doors for me. To start, at the school in Salaya, my Thai friend immediately connected me with Teacher Phong (the school’s mentor and teacher of teachers, a former monk). I was supposed to join a group session with other foreigners, but for some reason I don’t know, I got two days of private lessons for free with this expert… incredible! And on top of that, he loved France! It was an amazing experience. I "discovered" massage by chance—the Thai family just told me: "Try it, you’ll see!" (I’d had a pretty intense massage in the capital before 😅… but the next day, I felt unbelievably great!))
Every morning, I’d take a taxi (chosen by the Thai family at prices that beat all the competition) to this school—I’ve forgotten the name of the little village now… right in the heart of the countryside. Then, in the evenings, I’d keep practicing massage on all the family members… and they’d teach me Thai at the same time!))
Since then, I’ve practiced a bit, with lots of positive feedback. Following Teacher Phong’s advice—he thought my pressure was deep, firm, and precise—he strongly encouraged me to take this seriously.
I love Thailand so much. It’s a whole different way of living… and it’s a real blessing, even if I couldn’t live there full-time. Anyway, that was an unforgettable memory, and sometimes the Thai family and I still say hi—from 2011, 2013… right up to today!
"It seems to me that poverty would be less painful in the sun" wrote Aznavour...
Not sure...😕 Who can prove that people in hot countries are happier than others?
What do you think?
Is it better to live in Montpellier than in Lille?
Are the Pygmies happier than the Inuit?
Are Canadians less happy than the people of Louisiana?
Are there more French expats in hot countries?
And your travels? Do you choose your destinations based on the climate?
Do you rejoice when a bit of sunshine appears?
Hi everyone, just this once I’m not posting for a travel story, but to share a thought for Venezuela.
If you didn’t know—since it’s not making headlines—the country was hit by two 7.5-magnitude earthquakes last week. Over 2,200 people have died, more than 50,000 are missing, and some coastal towns have been completely destroyed.
Maybe when the scale of the humanitarian crisis becomes clear, our media will cover it a bit more... especially since earthquakes with this many casualties usually make the front page, but there’s been nothing in France.
So here’s a thought for this country, which, whatever you think of its politics, is a true jewel of South America, both for its landscapes and its people.
hi there
I’d like to invite you to discover my coastal province in central Vietnam: Quang Ngai.
This year, my province has really improved its infrastructure—mountains, countryside, and sea are all authentic here.
No harassers or thieves, and no Russians either.
A local lunch costs around 1 €.
A *** hotel room is about 25 €, and you can find hotels right on My Khe Beach.
We have a specialty: *banh xeo*—10 crepes for just 1.5 €.
You can rent motorbikes to explore the province and maybe visit the many ethnic minorities.
I live here—I’m not selling anything, but I can help if needed (my father-in-law is a traditional Vietnamese doctor and he’s very skilled).
Hi everyone! 😉
I’m Typhaine, 35 years old. Five years ago, I left France for a solo round-the-world trip—no planes, just a van, hitchhiking, cycling, and even a canoe in the Amazon! Today, I work as a naturalist guide in Argentine Patagonia.
Wherever I go, my compass stays the same: observing and photographing wildlife, which I deeply admire and respect.
My project: I’d love to share this experience through a sustainable, authentic, and immersive nature tourism initiative. But to build something meaningful, I need to understand how other nature enthusiasts experience their own adventures.
If you:
Are over 20 years old
Have a true passion for Nature
Have already taken at least one trip lasting more than 3 nights (in your country or abroad) in your life
Promise: I’m not selling anything, this isn’t marketing. Your answers are 100% anonymous and will only help me shape this wild project.
A huge thank you to everyone for your help and kindness! Looking forward to chatting in this thread 😛
(Dear admins, this is purely a collaborative effort for my project study, with no commercial purpose. Thank you so much for your support!)
Photo: Grizzly Bear (Ursus arctos horribilis), female on the left and her cub on the right. Photo taken by me in Alaska, Denali National Park.
It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.
A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question.
They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???
Not even a simple thank you!!!
From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕
Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????
I spent 3 weeks in Bali last summer (+ 3 nights on Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java). So I wanted to see what ChatGPT could suggest for comparison...
Here’s the prompt I gave:
"You’re a local expert guide for Bali.
- Plan a 20-day itinerary for Bali with a side trip to Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java without staying overnight.
- I’m traveling with my wife, and I love visiting historical sites, hiking, relaxing at the beach, snorkeling, and exploring rice terraces...
- For the duration of the stay, I don’t want more than 8 places to sleep, and I’d like to stay at least 2 days at each stop to avoid unpacking too often. Except for the last night, where I’m okay with just one night near the airport.
- I prefer neighborhoods that are walkable and try to avoid typical tourist traps, though I don’t want to miss the must-see spots. So suggest a mix of iconic sites and hidden gems.
- Recommend hotels or guesthouses with a budget of 50 to 100 € per night, including breakfast. Make suggestions in areas popular with travelers, specifying the vibe (I prefer quiet), and consider safety and proximity to attractions.
- For lunch and dinner, suggest two to three restaurants that are well-rated by customers.
- Give me a day-by-day program with details on travel times, visiting times for each point of interest, and recommendations for transportation (taxi, train, bike, etc.).
Estimate the total cost of the trip, including accommodations, food, transportation, and activities, and suggest two tips for saving money in each category.
- Don’t make anything up—be realistic about travel times, take into account the opening dates and hours of sites, and give me the entry fees for places to visit.
- Ask me all the questions until you’re 95% sure you understand what’s being asked. Don’t generate your response until you’ve understood."
The AI asked for a few clarifications:
"Great request—I can build you a really optimized and enjoyable itinerary, but to be 95% sure I hit the mark, I need a few key clarifications (this will really influence the pace, areas, and accommodations)."
In the end, it proposed a program very close to what we actually did.
I’ll skip its accommodation and restaurant suggestions...
Its proposal:
"Ubud (4 nights) => we did 5 nights
Sidemen (2 nights)
Amed (3 nights) => we’d planned 2 nights
Gili Meno (3 nights) => we did Gili between Sidemen and Amed
Munduk (3 nights) => we did 2 nights before Pemuteran
Pemuteran (3 nights) with Ijen => we did 4 nights
Sanur (2 nights + 1 last night) => we chose Jatiluwih instead of Sanur
It suggested "activities" (and accommodations too):
IN UBUD:
- Walk around central Ubud (1–2h)
- Campuhan Ridge Walk
- Tegalalang Rice Terrace
- Tirta Empul
- Gunung Kawi
- Massage / market / slow café
IN SIDEMEN:
- Rice terrace hike (2–3h)
- Cooking class
IN AMED:
- Snorkeling
- Japanese Shipwreck
- Beach + relaxation
- Volcano sunset
ON GILI:
- Snorkeling at Gili Meno Turtle Point, Nest Underwater Statues
IN MUNDUK:
- Jungle & waterfall hike - Munduk Waterfall + Melanting Waterfall
- Loop: 3–4h (perfect for your level)
- Ulun Danu Bratan Temple
- Twin Lakes
IN PEMUTERAN
- Snorkeling: Menjangan Island
For Kawah Ijen, it detailed the day well:
👍 from Pemuteran = best possible option
12 PM: leave hotel (we left at 10 PM)
1 PM: ferry
3 PM: arrival in Java + transfer
11 PM: start ascent
2 AM–6 AM: volcano
Return to Bali around 11 AM–12 PM (we got back at 4 PM)
👍 still very intense, but doable with an agency
💰 ~80–120 €/person all-inclusive
IN SANUR:
- Relaxation
- Quiet beach
- Proximity to airport (30 min)"
I’ve kept the habit of blowing my nose in the sink and then washing my hands—a custom I picked up in India. Sometimes, non-travelers are shocked when they catch me in the act... 🤪
Also, when I run out of toilet paper, it doesn’t bother me—unless I’ve got company over... 🤪
Just got back from walking a friend’s dog (while they’re on vacation), wearing a djellaba and Tibetan boots... 😏😏😏 Oh, for sure, if I’d run into locals, I probably would’ve shocked them? 😏
Anyway, as long as I’m not spitting on the floor at a restaurant or squatting on the side of a highway with a water bottle in hand...
After taking a little trip around the world, I came back a few months ago with an idea in mind.
I mostly do diving, and I love observing animals in their natural habitat without disturbing them.
During the trip, I realized it was quite complicated to know where and when to see certain species.
For example:
where to dive with sharks or manta rays
where you might get a chance to swim with whales
I even discovered thresher sharks during my trip… I didn’t even know this species existed before, even though they’re incredible to see.
We spent a ton of time searching for info all over the place, especially on social media, without ever getting a clear picture.
So I started putting all this together on my own, in the form of a map, to make it easier to visualize where to go depending on the seasons.
I recently put a first version online (it’s called Fauneya).
There are probably mistakes, inconsistencies, or things to improve, and that’s partly why I’m posting here.
I’d really love to know how you all go about planning this kind of trip.
As part of my Master’s thesis, I’m currently conducting a public survey on a topic that concerns all of us when planning a trip: artificial intelligence and the role of human contact in travel planning.
These days, we’re using more and more digital tools to find ideas, compare options, and book trips... but is the role of human advisors still essential? At what moments? And for what types of trips?
The survey is anonymous and takes about 7 minutes.
It’s aimed at anyone who travels (or has traveled) for leisure, whether you plan everything yourself or go through an agency.
While browsing the forum to gather info for my upcoming trip to Thailand, I often see the terms "traveler," "great traveler," and also "tourist"—so what’s the nuance for you?
I've traveled quite a bit in Vietnam over the past few years—from the southern delta to bustling cities and even some small islands—but what really sticks with me is the north, the high mountains.
Up there, there's something different—maybe slower, more raw. The morning markets with ethnic groups, women in traditional clothes, the colors...
The stilt houses, kids following you and laughing for no reason, the terraced rice fields—it almost feels unreal at times, so vast and quiet, yet so human and simple.
You often hear that Sapa has become too touristy, and that's partly true, especially in the center. But as soon as you move a little farther away, everything changes quickly. The landscapes open up, encounters feel more natural, and you rediscover something truly authentic.
I think it's that contrast that struck me—the difference between what you imagine before going and what you actually discover when you take the time.
And you—what memory do you hold onto from Vietnam? A particular place that touched you more than others?
Hello,
We’re finalizing the plans for our upcoming trip to China in May 2025. The second-to-last stop will be in Zhangjiajie, where we’ve planned to stay for 2 full days before heading to Shanghai.
We’re traveling solo using local transport and have arranged to stay in the city of Zhangjiajie.
We’ve seen that there’s a lot to see:
Tianmen Mountain, the Grand Canyon and the glass bridge, Zhangjiajie National Park, and that the sites are quite far apart with fairly expensive entry fees.
We’re thinking of dedicating one day to the national park and the Grand Canyon (glass bridge) and one day to Tianmen Mountain.
But we’re not sure if this plan is realistic—any thoughts would be much appreciated!
I should be serving a warming drink to the participants in the discussion about gardens and parks that provide us with beautiful photos, I could mention the delicious buttery scent wafting from bakeries in the thread about returning to France, but my heart, its powerful pulse that nourishes my entire being, is elsewhere.
Dasht-e Lut, Yazd, Esfahan, Bam, Kerman, Qeshm, Hormuz—a melody, a prayer at the heart of desire.
A dream, an unattainable fantasy? No. Not anymore.
A very serious Italian travel agency is organizing this trip for 6 people this winter. I’m signed up, I’m going, I’m living. Maybe.
"But you’re completely crazy!!!!"
I know... I know that every civilization, every society has a vital need to create scapegoats to define and justify itself, pathetically. And Iran is one of them, top of the list. I laugh or sigh, and it doesn’t bother me.
But that unchanging red, deep red and garnet, so beautiful in itself, in all the Western chancelleries repeats, whispers, shouts: don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, you’re putting yourself in danger and we can’t do anything for you. You’ll be turned into mere bargaining chips, into arguments for endless negotiations. Fear must be instilled, its power absolutely preserved, no concessions made to the enemy. The information (how many French hostages, real or fake, compared to the number of travelers?) is always lacking.
Traveling becomes a merciless confrontation between desire, the vital pulse, and anxiety, its ghosts.
Hi everyone, here’s our itinerary. Arriving on the evening of December 13th. Departing on January 7th.
Thanks in advance for your tips and valuable feedback.
Manila – 1 night
Coron – 4 nights
Coron to El Nido cruise – 2 nights
El Nido – 4 nights
Port Barton – 5 nights
Flight from Puerto Princesa to Vigan
Vigan – 2 nights
Sagada – 2 nights
Banaue – 2 nights
Bagabag – 1 night
Manila – 1 night
I’ve only booked the flight to Manila and the Manila/Coron flight so far. Is it possible to book boat trips, accommodations, and the Puerto Princesa flight last-minute?
Really disappointed with Costa Rica! Pura vida? The scam of the century!
(Costa Rica pure emptiness).
The country where animals are free and people are in cages.
3 weeks in December in this country and never again. Imagine the trailer of a movie that seems interesting, and when you go see it, you realize it’s a flop and the best moments were in the trailer.
Well, that’s exactly how we felt with Costa Rica pure emptiness.
My wife and I have traveled quite a bit and didn’t expect to be so wrong about a place.
On the main routes, we visited:
San José
Alajuela
Limón, Cahuita, Puerto Viejo, Manzanillo (Caribbean side)
Jaco, Quepos, Manuel Antonio (Pacific side)
And a few short stops in intermediate towns.
Our dissatisfaction grew gradually like this:
When we arrived at the hotel, the taxi dropped us off on a small street in front of a white metal gate with ground-floor windows barred. We looked at it skeptically, but the sign matched.
He approached the gate, rang the bell, the buzzer sounded, and the door opened slightly. The hotel wasn’t bad for the price, a 10-minute walk from downtown, but with a "Fleury-Mérogis" vibe guaranteed.
So far, so good.
After showering and regaining our bearings, we headed downtown.
What started to unsettle us on the way was seeing houses with bars on the ground-floor windows and even on the second floor.
At first, we thought the hotel’s neighborhood wasn’t great.
Downtown San José:
It’s a generic city, not very exotic, with a pedestrian street and a small mercado where you can eat local food without frills. Very few tourists—if any—which let you blend in with the locals. We had lunch and struggled to make ourselves understood because, aside from one or two shops, English wasn’t spoken.
On the way back to the hotel, we took a different route, and while chatting and strolling, my wife pointed out a beautiful two-story white house completely barricaded like Fort Knox.
From that moment, we started noticing the facades of houses and buildings, and wow, it was creepy—most looked like prisons, some even with barbed wire.
Though put off, we told ourselves it was probably a big-city thing and the rest of the country couldn’t be like this.
So far, so good.
We relaxed at the hotel and had a drink at the bar. Night falls early, around 5:30 PM. By 7:30 PM, we headed back downtown for dinner. A bit unsettling for a capital—downtown was almost deserted, and aside from fast-food chains, very few restaurants were open, with hardly anyone on the streets.
Bars with security guards out front.
I won’t say we felt unsafe that night, but once it got dark, we realized the bars on the windows weren’t for nothing. First day in, and our impression was already mixed.
The next day, we explored the city and surroundings, and our feelings didn’t change.
So far, so good.
Off to Cahuita by bus—4 hours of travel.
The landscapes are very green but quickly become monotonous. The road runs alongside the forest and passes through a few towns and villages, and even in the countryside, there were just as many prison-like houses.
The bus dropped us off at Cahuita’s terminal station—only four of us got off. It’s a village, or rather, a small town. Cahuita is basically one straight road and a perpendicular one, and honestly, doubt started to creep in.
A few restaurants that add 13% tax and 10% service charge—so 23% extra. We dropped our stuff at the hotel and went to explore. In 20 minutes, we’d seen it all. We had lunch and planned to check out the famous park.
Entry is by donation—well, the "entry" is a joke. There’s a path along the forest by the sea, and that’s it.
Nothing’s going right anymore.
We thought it was a total scam, but since we hadn’t gone far, we decided to come back the next day to explore further.
We returned to the hotel, relaxed, and around 8:00 PM, we went out for dinner. Only two restaurants were open, and the streets were deserted.
Creepy!
The next day, we explored the so-called park more thoroughly and really got it.
A path along the forest by the sea—2 hours there and 2 hours back, where you see animals that feel like showing their faces.
A total joke—"all that for this?"
The beach was full of wood debris and coconut husks. We wondered if the photos online were edited because the sea, very rough, wasn’t the azure blue we’d seen in pictures.
But calling this a park is a joke—it’s like a new concept.
When we thought about the reviews online, we started to suspect that professionals with interests in the country were monitoring and countering any negative feedback that could harm their business.
Too bad we didn’t check the negative reviews beforehand—we did while we were there, and it helped. We wondered if we’d become too demanding after all our travels, but no—when something’s bad, it’s bad.
Manuel Antonio’s park is even more ridiculous—there’s a short path along the sea for about 500 meters, and then nothing. You have to climb through mud and hack your way through the forest. We ended up barefoot because the mud was up to our calves. All that to see a raccoon and a few parrots flying overhead.
We didn’t expect Noah’s Ark, but we’ve seen more animals in Bali, Mexico, and Thailand while visiting temples or just walking around than in these so-called parks!
Puerto Viejo, not far from Cahuita and supposedly livelier—well, it couldn’t be worse!
According to Lonely Planet, it had a Caribbean vibe and wild nights, but maybe that was a long time ago. The good reggae music playing everywhere isn’t enough.
In the evening, Puerto Viejo was a bit livelier than Cahuita, but that’s not saying much. Very few tourists—if any—no night market, just two or three shops open selling $20 T-shirts. Same vibe as San José.
No big deal—we enjoyed the beach and the sun, which was reliable.
Our itinerary was supposed to include Tortuguero Park, but after talking to other travelers who’d just been, we changed our minds, knowing we’d be visiting Manuel Antonio Park on the Pacific side.
To get back to the Pacific side, you have to take the bus and go through San José again—5 hours this time—then switch bus terminals and another 4.5 hours to Quepos.
A stopover town to get to Manuel Antonio’s beach and park!
A town just like the others we’d seen—deserted as soon as the sun sets, and not exactly bustling during the day either. (Where are all the tourists?)
Still as many bars on the windows and that feeling of being in the wrong place.
7 km later: Manuel Antonio beach and park.
The beach is very beautiful and quite large, but don’t expect turquoise blue water—the waves stir up the sand, giving the water a brownish color.
Along the beach, shops and restaurants for about 300 meters, and then nothing. At night, after sunset, the town shuts down too.
Manuel Antonio Park is highly praised for its wildlife, so we were eager to see it. When you express dissatisfaction with Cahuita or Manzanillo parks, the response is always, "But you should’ve gone to Monteverde or Manuel Antonio!" No matter what you do or say, they’ll tell you, "You should’ve gone there or here."
Back to our famous park—entry was about $16, and contrary to what we’d heard, it wasn’t crowded!
Guides at the entrance with spotting scopes offered their services for about $30.
The park: a mix of boardwalk and dirt paths through the forest, sometimes running alongside beautiful coves and beaches.
As soon as we entered, a crowd was taking photos of a deer eating leaves.
A little further on, a guide with a group of five stopped. The guide raised his arm and set up his spotting scope! He showed them, about 100 meters away, a hummingbird perched on a branch. Some, looking through the scope, exclaimed, "Oh my God! Amazing! Incredible!"
For a moment, we thought they’d discovered a unicorn or were in Jurassic Park and had just crossed paths with a T-Rex!
The concept is comical—looking at a bird or another animal through a spotting scope because it’s too far away. Isn’t that what TV is for?
For our part, we saw monkeys, ants, an armadillo, an iguana, and the backside of a sloth climbing a tree. Amazing, incredible!
We stayed a few days in Manuel Antonio to enjoy the beach, changing hotels often because prices varied wildly from one day to the next for shameful services. On top of that, they’d quote a price in dollars and convert it at their discretion—thieves!
Alajuela, a city near the airport, has a two-story mall and a local market downtown! No interest except its proximity to the airport.
What we liked:
The climate and, in hindsight, San José—the most authentic city we visited.
What we didn’t like, in addition to what we’ve already mentioned:
Costa Ricans aren’t very friendly or communicative. English is barely spoken, not even by doctors at Quepos Hospital, where my wife ended up with food poisoning (thanks, Google Translate). The widespread obesity among Costa Ricans, who eat like Americans. The insecurity. The eco-hipsters who leave their $150 lodges in minivans with guides to visit parks and other sites, then return to barricade themselves in their fortresses at nightfall (oh my God, amazing, incredible). The blue signs at the entrance of towns that accept this payment method: "We accept American Express." Parking lots that become paid just because a guy is watching your car. Prices displayed in dollars. The cost of living (hotels, restaurants, taxes). Landscapes that are too green and not flowery enough. Beaches—nothing exceptional. Pollution in cities where big American trucks rule. Sewage dumped directly into the sea. Aside from the jungle, there’s nothing to visit—no ruins, monuments, or anything worth seeing.
In short, my wife and I think the hype about this supposedly eco-friendly country is overrated. It’s just the trendy destination of the moment. There are much better, cheaper, and more authentic places.
In hindsight, we keep the good memories and our beautiful photos, but if we had to do it over...
Before signing off, a little message to those who don’t like hearing opinions different from theirs:
Well, some things aren’t up for debate. And to those who’d have us believe that in 3 weeks, we don’t have the right to criticize a country or express our feelings—how can you praise it in so little time? What a scam. Costa Rica is a money pit. Pura vida? Pure cosmic emptiness.
If you like spending your evenings barricaded in your cozy hotel after dark, this country is for you.
For everyone else: run!
Hello,
Since the war between Russia and Ukraine, nothing is simple anymore for traveling to Belarus due to sanctions.
No more direct flights from the EU to Minsk.
Driving is a huge hassle, especially crossing through Poland at the only open border in Brest—you can wait 2, 3, or even 4 days just to get through by car.
The least painful driving option is to come via Lithuania and cross at the only open border, with a minimum wait time of 8 hours, sometimes up to 20 hours or more!!
Controls are very strict and annoying on both the Lithuanian and Belarusian sides. Avoid bringing alcohol, food, or cigarettes—everything will end up in the trash, especially when leaving Belarus for Vilnius, where the Lithuanians are tough, even with EU citizens.
The joy I once knew when visiting my wife in Minsk is sadly over—it’s now a real ordeal.
The fastest solution is to fly. My wife travels to France by taking a bus to Kaunas in Lithuania, where you can catch a flight (though not daily) to Paris Beauvais or Charleroi in Belgium with Ryanair, for example.
For the return trip, it’s the same: a flight to Kaunas and then a direct bus from the airport to Minsk.
The bus crossing is quicker than driving—the 250 km journey, including border checks, takes about 6 to 8 hours for buses leaving Lithuania around midnight, but controls are still strict at the border.
The biggest challenge is finding flight schedules that align with the bus routes between the two countries, given the unpredictable border crossing times.
Now, my wife travels via Charleroi in Belgium (near Brussels), and you can take a train to Paris. Alternatively, you can fly into Beauvais and take a bus to Paris (Porte Maillot).
For those driving, note that EU insurance and assistance policies no longer work in Belarus or Russia. You’ll need to get local insurance, usually limited to third-party liability (I don’t think full coverage exists?), as well as mandatory medical insurance. This is available at the border.
You now have to pay highway tolls—no more BELTOLL boxes. Instead, you pay a flat fee for the duration of your stay. Stop at the first gas station after crossing from Lithuania to fill up on fuel and cigarettes.
From what I know, Lithuania bans carrying more than 60 € in cash, but there’s no limit for USD (though it’s capped at $10,000??).
With a Visa card, you can now withdraw 1,000 rubles per week (about 270 €)—two months ago, it was only 500 rubles!!
For now, you can still pay by card in shops and gas stations.
However, major retailers like KORONA (which may be Russian-owned??) no longer accept foreign Visa cards.
Unfortunately, the additional sanctions announced by the U.S. on August 5, 2025, against Russia—and possibly Belarus—aren’t promising for the future.
After 20 years of visiting Belarus, I’m truly saddened to see the joy of living in this country with my wonderful wife turn into such a bleak situation, all because of human folly.
Hi everyone!
I’m putting together our travel itinerary for Veneto at the end of April. And the more I look and research potential sites to visit, the more I find!
We’ll only be there for a week—my family and I—including 3 days in Venice. So we have to make some choices...
I plan to rent a car when we arrive in Venice and head straight to Bergamo, which would be our first stop. We’d leave the car at the airport when we return to Venice so we can explore the city at our leisure.
What do you think:
1 night in Bergamo (a 2h15 drive from Venice airport),
1 night in Garda,
1 night in Verona,
1 in Padua, and
3 in Venice—would that be doable?
Thanks in advance for your tips and experiences! :)
Now that the curtain has fallen on the past year, it’s time to see what’s happening around here.
It seems pretty quiet, but I’ll read more in detail later.
First, I need to tell you all an anecdote.
My eldest little girl, in her third year of law school, was really scared she wouldn’t pass the year.
I told her:
“Trust yourself, you’ve worked so hard, and worst case, if you fail, you’ll just redo the year.”
“But I don’t think I’ll make it—they changed the rules, and if I mess up even one unit, I have to start all over.”
I knew her grades weren’t exactly stellar, and with what I was about to say, I wasn’t taking much of a risk.
“Here’s the deal, sweetheart: if you pass, I promise I’ll take you to India, just the two of us.”
I have to admit, India is a country I’ve talked about so much to all my grandchildren that in their minds, it’s become a magical, mythical place (hmm).
July had barely begun when my phone rang, her name flashing on the screen.
“Mamido, I did it!”
My promise came rushing back—oh no, oh no, oh no!
“Congratulations, sweetheart!”
A little shyly, she said:
“Is the India trip still on?”
And me, replying:
“Of course it is!”
And that’s that—a promise is a promise, or you risk losing that precious trust that keeps hearts warm and at peace.
We’re leaving in February. Only 8 days—yikes, the carbon footprint!
But we can’t miss her tutorials, or she’ll be kicked out.
Personally, that works just fine for me.
Going to India has become a challenge for me. It’s far, it’s exhausting, I sweat, I hate mosquitoes, the spices bother my mouth when I used to love them. There’s noise all the time—at night, the dogs bark nonstop, and we almost get run over. I’ll get lost in the streets because my sense of direction has vanished. I don’t like rice anymore. All that chaos and those cultural differences that once enchanted me now just overwhelm me.
But I promised.
The upside—and it’s a big one—Raman, the same driver I’ve had forever, will be at the airport with a sign with our names. We’ll stop at the same little shop for chai (or tea, plain and simple) with that aroma that intoxicates me, halfway through the trip.
It’ll be a tiny trip—staying with friends, I’ll show her a few places I love: Chidambaram, Mamallapuram, and the clinic where I worked. Then we’ll head back.
My little girl will go home to her parents.
As for me, I’ll leave right away for our Scottish island with Homme for our chilly winter.
How can you love a country so much you want to live there, then suddenly reject it, no longer able to appreciate what once made it special?
That’s the mystery of love, I guess.
I’ve visited the U.S. four times myself, including two long road trips. The last one was just this past August...
I won’t be going back. I already felt guilty last August, but recent policies have finally convinced me: the humiliation of Zelensky, authoritarian excesses, Gestapo-like methods for detaining people of foreign origin, the murder of innocent people (a mother shot dead), corruption, insane "tariffs," skyrocketing healthcare costs for Americans, the abduction of foreign figures to secure oil, the requirement to disclose social media accounts, and now... threats and blackmail to forcibly take Greenland—a region that belongs to Denmark and thus the European Union!
The reality is that simply posting this could get me denied entry to the U.S.!
In this context, I just can’t keep spending money there. I loved my trips, but there are so many other countries with stunning landscapes to explore.
So I get why you’d want to travel there. I did, and I loved it. But once a country no longer respects any of the values that made us love it, why go?
How can we even consider traveling to a country that threatens to take one of our territories by force?
Hello everyone,
Controversial topic? Not necessarily—maybe just a reflection on a world to come.
I spent the last 15 days of August on a cruise in Greenland, from Kangerlussuaq to Tasiilaq.
I was utterly amazed by this unique world of rock and ice, the little houses in every color, a simple life that’s also complicated by isolation and climate, among other things...
I carry in my heart the kindness of the people I met, the raw and gentle majesty of the icebergs, the colors of the sky...
So, I can’t even imagine a massive presence of raw material prospectors, heavy machinery requiring roads to be built—if that’s even possible—changing their way of life... putting sled dogs out to pasture!
Do fast food and Greenland’s northern lights really mix?
I wouldn’t trade my memories for an ESTA!
All opinions are respectable, which is why this isn’t a controversy—but I’m sorry, I have a soft spot for *my* Greenland.
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