Six-week trip to Mexico
FR

Six-week trip to Mexico

by GeorgesOZ

in Between trips › Travel journals

Translated into English.

GR Greggig Regular ·
...to pick up your Mexico travel journal, obviously! 😉
MI Michant Veteran ·
Hi Georges,

I’m trying to take some good photos, but just then a couple of tourists show up and plant themselves right in front of the entrance gate, staring up in awe with their giant, ridiculous khaki bush hats on full display.

Ugh, those tourist clods—what a pain! Scout’s honor, it wasn’t me blocking the gate! Though I *do* wear a "ridiculous khaki bush hat" too! 😛😏

Anyway, I’m (back from India, me too) waiting with varying levels of patience for your thoughts on Oaxaca! 😉
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
But with a short stop in Chiapa de Corzo before getting there!
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Chiapa de Corzo

We find the colectivos to Chiapa de Corzo at the bus stop, right where we were dropped off from Palenque. The road to Tuxtla Gutierrez is interesting—we cross the mountains and descend almost into the plains. Chiapa is still at around 400 meters in altitude, but the climate is noticeably warmer than in SCdlC. We’re dropped off at the junction for Chiapa, or more precisely, a few hundred meters away. With the mid-morning heat, the idea of walking doesn’t exactly thrill us, but luckily, as the guidebook says, you just have to cross the road—watch out for traffic—to wait for a colectivo heading to Chiapa. Easy as pie.

The interesting part of Chiapa is tiny. There’s, of course, the dock on the Grijalva River, which is really beautiful. But the boat ride will have to wait until tomorrow. The main central square is… large, and pretty deserted, and let’s just say it’s a bit sterile. The much-touted monument La Pila in the middle was built in 1562 in the Mudéjar style. If I understood correctly, it was a fountain, but the water isn’t running. There’s nothing like a turned-off fountain to disappoint a visitor—it’s like a waterfall that turns out to be dry after hours of hiking. So, we only stop for about ten minutes, just long enough to try out my zoom lens on two Indigenous women sitting in the square. The photos aren’t great, but they still show off those beautiful floral-themed outfits that the women love so much.

In the immediate area, there’s the covered market, which isn’t exactly thrilling and is tiny to boot, and also the Santo Domingo convent. It looks nice from the outside (photo), but no luck—it’s under repair and can’t be visited.

Since we’ve decided to do the Sumidero Canyon excursion the next morning, we’ve got a lot of time to kill, so we decide to head to the ruins about 2 km east of the central square, which shouldn’t be too much of a slog. The streets are pretty deserted; it’s already quite hot, and people are staying indoors—totally understandable. When we arrive at the Archaeological Park, bad news: we can’t go in. The women having their lunch behind the fences explain that it’s closed for repairs after an earthquake. We can just make out a few mounds that don’t seem as exciting as Teotihuacan or Palenque, but it’s worth noting that this site is *very* old. Chiapa has been occupied for at least 3,500 years and was a commercial and cultural crossroads between various Indigenous cultures—Olmec, Zoque, and Mixtec—and even farther-reaching Central American cultures.

As evening falls, we inevitably end up near the dock. There really aren’t many restaurant options. Time and the river flow quietly…
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Chiapa de Corzo – The Sumidero Canyon

Before diving into the new day, I’m posting two photos of Y trying on a dress last night that a Tzotzil woman was trying to sell us while we were at one of the few restaurants overlooking the river. It’s to illustrate, once again, the beauty of all the different textiles you can find in Mexico. The floral embroidery stood out beautifully against the black background of the dress 😎 (cotton or wool, I can’t remember). I have to say, we were really tempted to buy it, and at a very modest price.

Unfortunately, we thought the dress was a bit short, and the woman didn’t have any others. Looking back now and seeing the photos, it seems like a good fit, doesn’t it? Maybe we were too influenced by the justified impression that Indigenous people are often quite short… and yet Y isn’t tall! In the end, we bought a pretty blouse (with flowers, of course) for 200 pesos. Oh, and dinner cost us 415 pesos—it was fish and shrimp, and it was delicious, washed down with 2 or 3 coronas. 😛

After an early breakfast (200 pesos for two), we bought our tickets for the famous canyon excursion: 250 pesos per person, which is pretty expensive for Mexico. But we waited… and waited… and waited… An hour passed, and we were still alone, and the lancha wouldn’t leave until there were enough passengers. 🙁 There’s room for a good dozen people in there!

A foreign tourist arrived and waited with us. He’s a Franco-Spaniard from Ronda, Andalusia. We chatted about Andalusia, which we love. More tourists arrived—two or three Mexican couples from California. Still not enough to launch the lancha, and it was starting to get hot… We negotiated an extra 100 pesos each 😕 to finally start our excursion.

Maybe now’s the time to talk a little about the Grijalva River. It’s named after one of the first Spanish conquistadors, Juan de Grijalva, who, if I’m not mistaken, was one of Hernán Cortés’ companions. The local names for the river are Tabasco (or Tavasco?), like the Mexican state of the same name, but also Rio Chiapa or Rio Mezcalapa. Its source is in Guatemala. One of the restaurants at the Chiapa de Corzo dock had an interesting map of the state of Chiapas, showing how the river flows in a southeast/northwest direction, following the orientation of a mountain range crossing the border with Guatemala. The river empties into the Gulf of Mexico downstream from Villahermosa. We’d seen all that water from our plane when arriving from Mexico City… On the map, I roughly show this configuration of southern Mexico.

You might be wondering: why bore people with all these details? First, I find these details really interesting—I write based on my personal research, and if it bores readers, they can just skip to the next paragraph. Second, the Grijalva River is fundamentally important for several reasons, especially in the history of Mexico and Central America. It more or less formed a border between the Aztec Empire and Mayan territories (not to mention other Indigenous groups—this is just to keep it simple). And further back in history, it undoubtedly facilitated trade and cultural exchanges between all these regions.

Back to the canyon. We passed under the big bridge spanning the river—it’s the road to Tuxtla Gutiérrez. After a checkpoint (the entrance to the “park”), we entered the heart of the canyon, and yes, it’s impressive. The cliffs are steep on both sides and reach over 1,000 meters in height in some places! 😮😎

We stopped for a few moments on the shore to watch a family of spider monkeys, who let us photograph them peacefully. A number of birds perched on the abundant floating vegetation to fish. But there’s way more than just vegetation—it’s impossible not to notice all the trash of all kinds being carried by the river. We’re in the age of plastic, ugh… 😠

The exit of the canyon opens onto a large expanse of water, the reservoir of the Chicoasén dam. The landscape is green and pleasant to the eye. Before turning back, we made a quick stop: cold drinks were being offered from 2 or 3 boats. Given the heat, it was tempting. I got a michelada for 50 pesos (!), which I regretted a few minutes later. It’s a mix of beer and I-don’t-know-what, and it was pretty gross. 🙁 No better than the micheladas I’d tried the previous year in Colombia.

All in all, the trip lasted over 2 hours. The route was about 20-30 km. We got back to Chiapa tired from the heat. Y’s upset with me because I didn’t think to buy sunscreen, and she got a little sunburned 😊—the horror for a Thai who, like all her compatriots, is constantly worried about her skin getting darker!

In the central square, we had trouble finding space in a colectivo to Tuxtla Gutiérrez. It was noon, crowded, and the sun was blazing, I can’t even tell you! On the way: 30 pesos for both of us, and it’s only 10-12 km away. In Tuxtla, we took a taxi to cross the city (60 pesos) to the bus terminal, where we waited a few hours for our bus to Oaxaca.
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Oaxaca - Arrival

We had booked our bus tickets to Oaxaca at an office in SCdlC. You can find these offices in all major cities, which is handy when you're not too confident with the internet. The overnight bus cost us 1,720 pesos for two, or 40 euros per person—a significant expense, but since it's not every day, right? All we had to do was wait at the Tuxtla terminal...

That’s where we met this Spaniard, whom we initially mistook for a Mexican. He was heading to Guadalajara to meet his Mexican girlfriend. He seemed to have some experience in the country and spoke highly of Guadalajara—authentic, with no excessive tourism. He also explained that neither he nor I were gringos but güeros (or weros). The term refers to light-skinned people (as opposed to morenos, who have darker skin) and whose hair is supposedly blond or light brown, though that second condition doesn’t seem strictly necessary in practice. Fair-skinned to begin with but with the slight tan I’ve developed after so many years in the tropics, I fit perfectly into this category and don’t stand out too much as a foreigner in the crowd.

It’s an overnight bus. Let’s hope traffic is smooth and there are no obstacles on the road. On the way from SCdlC to Chiapa de Corzo, I’d noticed signs advising brake-less vehicles to “follow the red line” on descents: “Vehículos sin frenos siguen la raya roja,” and other vehicles to yield to brake-less ones: “Cedan el paso a vehículos sin frenos.” Not exactly reassuring for travelers!

Fortunately, the ride was comfortable, and best of all, there were almost none of those dreaded “topes” that had bothered us so much between Palenque and SCdlC! Dawn found us in the last mountains before Oaxaca. A quick taxi ride, and we arrived at the hotel.

Describing Oaxaca is going to be a challenge—there’s so much to see and do! We spent several days there, so I’ll just follow the thread of some photos as I took them.

We were just a few days away from the famous Día de Muertos, and it was immediately noticeable. There were far more foreign tourists than we’d seen so far, except in Teotihuacan. The Día de Muertos in Oaxaca isn’t yet completely turned into a gringo festival, like Songkran has become a “Farang” event in Bangkok, but the trend is clear.

All over the city center, you could see skeletons of all kinds, often arranged in funny scenes for tourists to take souvenir photos. Crowds were everywhere—outside the cathedral (photo) and beyond.

One thing that really stands out is the vibrant artistic scene in this city. Some photos taken at the Jardín Labastida, near the Templo de Santo Domingo, show the variety of paintings and other artworks looking for buyers.

But it’s not all modern. On the sidewalk, this elderly Indigenous woman had laid out several beautifully embroidered blouses. A couple of Americans, who claimed to be experts in local Indigenous art, were amazed. They said it’s rare to find handicrafts from this particular village (San Pedro Ixtlahuaca, if I remember correctly) in the city. We just admired the quality of the work and left the Americans, who seemed determined to make a purchase.

That’s a first impression of Oaxaca. I’ll need several more pages to “soak up” all my memories of this city. See you soon for the next part!
FR Frmi31 Veteran ·
I brought back a lot of things from Mexico, but I never haggled because people need to make a living.
Le Mexique pour toujours après de nomb Les chiens aboient la caravane passe
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
I brought back a lot of things from Mexico, but I never haggled because people need to make a living

Hi Marie-Françoise,

That’s really noble of you, but it’s not necessarily the best approach either. Sure, I’m not about arguing over the last peso (or rupee, or baht, etc.). There are people who think they’re clever by haggling like crazy—I’m not one of them.

But a little negotiation, with a smile, often makes the sellers happy in many of these “exotic” countries, where prices aren’t really fixed to begin with. Haggling is completely part of the way of life there.

The key is knowing when to stop—if the other person firmly resists, for example. And you don’t haggle over small items. I’d never dream of trying to knock down the price of a kilo of mangoes I buy on the street in Mexico, India, or Thailand! But every time I take local transport, for instance, I ask the price upfront and 9 times out of 10, I try to get it lowered (often the initial price is inflated because I’m a foreigner).

I totally agree with you that people need to make a living, and I’m not stingy with those I meet. Knowing how to haggle is another matter entirely.
FR Frmi31 Veteran ·
It’s clear you live in Asia!
Le Mexique pour toujours après de nomb Les chiens aboient la caravane passe
FR Frmi31 Veteran ·
For me living in France, Mexico isn’t exactly an "exotic" country.
Le Mexique pour toujours après de nomb Les chiens aboient la caravane passe
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Oaxaca – Zaachila Market

Let’s start with a practical detail: breakfast. We tried two or three different spots and lucked out. For example, there’s Rincón del Búho on Avenida de la Independencia, 600 meters from the Zócalo and just before Nuestra Señora de la Merced. It’s super clean, the food is excellent, and the service is impeccable. For 220 pesos, we both ate our fill.

Now that we’re stuffed, it’s time to move on to the "adventure-discovery" part of our trip! By "adventure," I mean a gentle version of it, of course!

One of Oaxaca’s many draws is the number of fun little day trips you can take in the surrounding valleys. The city is surrounded by the Sierra Madre mountains, and there are three main valleys to explore, offering plenty of options.

It’s Thursday, which means it’s Zaachila Market day—a small town in the Valle Grande, south of Oaxaca. We take the local bus (9 pesos per person) for this little 15-kilometer excursion from Oaxaca. On our left, we pass the international airport. Once there, it only takes a few minutes to reach the market, and we’re greeted by a lively atmosphere.

The market is centered around a small square, easily recognizable by its unique fountain: the basin is lined with bricks in geometric patterns typical of indigenous design, topped by a statue of an Indigenous man in full regalia—his headdress is quite extraordinary. We sit on one of the benches ("in Mexico, there are tons of public benches") to people-watch. I take photos of locals with striking features—men in sombreros and elderly women who could almost pass for Mediterranean grandmothers. I get the impression that the Indigenous people of the region, mostly Zapotecs if I’m not mistaken, have much lighter skin than others. Their facial features seem almost Southern European. The vibe is super friendly; people are relaxed and smiling. An elderly man sitting next to us strikes up a conversation, and we chat pleasantly until his wife arrives—a cute little grandma like the ones I used to see in the mountains of northern Italy during my childhood vacations.

I mentioned the sombreros: there are some beautiful displays if we needed another one. But there’s everything here—turkeys, flowers, fruits—and food stalls where you can sit down to eat and have a drink. And those beautifully decorated breads? Never seen anything like them before!

After thoroughly exploring the market, we head toward Santa María Church, about a hundred meters away, up a flight of steps. No, we’re not here to visit the church (we’ve seen enough of those!), but to check out the archaeological site just a little farther. I’m well aware that Zaachila has archaeological significance—it was an important center of Zapotec culture, roughly contemporary with Monte Albán (just a few kilometers away). But to be honest, we could’ve skipped the 45-peso entry fee (per person), totaling around 4-5 €, because there’s not much to see besides a mound. The two tombs buried beneath it are open for viewing, but it only takes a minute—nothing particularly striking. Still, no regrets; we made a small donation to support the country’s heritage research and restoration efforts. Plus, the area is lush and pleasant, with beautiful cacti and flowers.

On our way back to the market, Santa María Church stands dramatically against a heavy, cloudy sky.

We take a shared taxi back to Oaxaca (17 pesos per person). That evening, we stroll near the Templo de Santo Domingo. In one of the side streets, we find a tiny little restaurant where we try tlayudas (125 pesos for two). What a discovery—delicious! 😛

A quick note on the markets around Oaxaca. Since they’re held on different days—usually just one day a week—a traveler who wanted to visit them all would need to stay in Oaxaca for a full week. Which isn’t hard to do, given how much there is to see and do in this incredible city. But of course, that’s not feasible for the "schedule-obsessed" travelers who want to "do Mexico" in 10 days…
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Oaxaca – The Templo de Santo Domingo de Guzmán

If there’s one must-see in Oaxaca itself, in my opinion, it’s the Templo de Santo Domingo de Guzmán. A stunning example of Mexican Baroque style, this church was founded by the Dominican order in the mid-16th century. Inside, you’re struck by the exuberance of the ornamentation, for which over 60,000 gold leaves were used. 😇 The vaults—what can I say? Just look at the photos and judge for yourselves. Personally, we found it absolutely breathtaking, mind-blowing. Yes, it’s elaborate, but what beauty, what elegance! 😎

Heading back toward the Zócalo, there are several possible routes, and every street in the center has something interesting. Here, a charming little house. There, an unusual entrance: the « Calaveras Old School », or « Skulls Old School ». The mural to the right of the door leaves no doubt about the place’s favorite theme. After a few detours, we find ourselves near the Mercado Benito Juárez. There’s a bit of chaos like in any market, but it’s far from as dirty as what you often see in India (since we’ve just come back from there).

And of course, we end up back at the Zócalo. It’s impossible to take a full photo of the square—it’s too crowded from every angle. Suffice to say that, like in almost every city I’ve seen in Mexico (and Colombia), it’s a particularly pleasant place to wander, sit (yes, yes, you already know: in Mexico, the benches tra-la-la!), and watch the world go by.

With all this, you can easily spend most of a relaxed day in Oaxaca.🙂
MI Michant Veteran ·
Hi there,

So, from what I’m reading, you can definitely spend a pleasant week exploring Oaxaca and its surroundings. Between Oaxaca and Chiapas, which did you prefer?
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Good evening,

Reading your post, it sounds like you could have a lovely week of discoveries in Oaxaca and its surroundings. Between Oaxaca and Chiapas, which did you prefer?

Without a doubt! I’d say going for just 3 days would be way too short, but at least it would let you: 1) explore the city (the downtown area is walkable, but you could easily spend a full day there), 2) take a day trip (a nearby market, or Mitla and Hierve el Agua), and 3) visit Monte Albán (amazing—I’d go back in a heartbeat).

But it’d be a rush. Honestly, you should plan at least 4–5 days, if not more, for the city and its surroundings.

As for choosing between Chiapas and Oaxaca, it’s tough. But if you pushed me, I’d pick Oaxaca. Why? Because there’s so much to do from one base. Sure, San Cristóbal de las Casas (SCdlC) is nice, there are indigenous markets nearby, and you can do the Sumidero Canyon as a day trip from SCdlC. But SCdlC is much smaller than Oaxaca. Plus, if you’re into archaeology, Monte Albán is right outside Oaxaca, while Palenque requires a grueling 5–6 hour trip (so it’s not a day-trip option from SCdlC).

Others will definitely have different opinions!
FR Frmi31 Veteran ·
I’m not interested in Colonial Mexico at all—I only love pre-Columbian civilizations and the current indigenous peoples.
Le Mexique pour toujours après de nomb Les chiens aboient la caravane passe
FR Frmi31 Veteran ·
Sorry, but I don’t know how else to put it
Le Mexique pour toujours après de nomb Les chiens aboient la caravane passe
MI Michant Veteran ·
Hi Georges,

Okay, Oaxaca is a go! Since we’re neither "schedule-obsessed" (love that phrase! 😉), nor marathon sightseers, we’ll spend a week in Oaxaca—it blends colonial heritage with pre-Columbian treasures. Thanks again for this travel journal! 🙂

Michel
FR Frmi31 Veteran ·
I'm used to this forum where the national sport is to humiliate others ^to shut them up
Le Mexique pour toujours après de nomb Les chiens aboient la caravane passe
JO Joss34 ·
I'm used to this forum where the national sport is to humiliate others ^to shut them up

It's just that you have a habit of making condescending or completely off-topic remarks when no one asked for them. You don’t like "colonial" Mexico or Catholic churches because you're Protestant (NB: that’s a dumb argument, by the way)—that’s your choice, but honestly, we don’t really care. Also, sorry, but the Yucatán you visit is far from authentic; it’s more like a money-making machine, and to me, it’s not even really Mexico when you push it. To get back to the author’s point, Oaxaca is *totally* worth the detour—way more than Chiapas, in my opinion.
FR Frmi31 Veteran ·
Everyone has their own opinions and their own vacations
Le Mexique pour toujours après de nomb Les chiens aboient la caravane passe
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Oaxaca – Meanwhile...

Hmmmm, there’s some tension in the air with these recent messages... I hope the food will help smooth things over. Oaxaca has a reputation as a major culinary hub in Mexico. Without having visited the "expensive" restaurants, we definitely ate very well during our stay.

This is a personal point, but it’s part of our travel experience: since Y is Thai, it sometimes causes a few issues when it comes to food. Let me explain: from long experience with Thais, I can say that, as a general rule (with a few exceptions), they’re not very open to cuisines different from their own, no matter their social class. Y is no exception. It took years for her to start appreciating European food (but now she especially loves cheeses!). When we travel, she absolutely needs, from time to time, to retreat to a restaurant where she can have rice and fish, or better yet: shrimp.

No problem, we found the perfect spot in Oaxaca. It’s at the corner of Fray Bartolomé de Las Casas and Bustaramante, 100 meters from the Zócalo, and it’s called « Mariscos – La Red» ("The Net"). Having discovered this "ideal" restaurant (from a Thai’s perspective), we went back several times and were never disappointed. Y tried all the shrimp dishes, always with rice (photo), and loved them. 🙂 Excellent food, washed down with a few ice-cold "Sol" beers, friendly service, a nice crowd (you easily chat with the tables next to you), and very reasonable prices (we paid around 300 pesos for two, or 14 €).

Another great spot, especially for breakfast, is at the corner of the Zócalo, at the start of Miguel Hidalgo Street, called Chili Guajili. I particularly enjoyed the Tacos de Coloradito (100 pesos, served with an amazing orange juice—see photo, as well as another great dish). It’s delicious, really satisfying, especially if you add the little sauces they serve on the side. These little sauces, a funny detail, Y calls them "nam chim", as they remind her exactly of the little sauces served in Thailand. Oh, and I almost forgot: it’s also a good place for Wi-Fi.

I mentioned "Sol". Along with the well-known "Corona" (not the virus!), these are my favorite beers in Mexico. They’re refreshing. 😛 I tried a few others but never found a truly excellent beer (I had the same experience in Colombia). However, I’ll give special mention to the "Indio" beer, first for its name, and then for this special edition "Bienvenidos – Edición Muertos" which I find quite amusing (photo).

This brings us back to the central theme of our stay in Oaxaca: the "Día de Muertos" festivities. How could we forget? It’s everywhere. In the evening, for example, some very typical faces among the crowd enjoying themselves around the cathedral (photos). On our way back to our hotel, a bit outside the center, we stumble upon a local celebration. The photo is blurry due to the low light (my phone has its limits), but you’ll recognize all those devil horns and masks that are so much fun.

If you ever want to get into the local spirit, you can either get your face painted in the street or simply buy a mask—you’ll find them everywhere.

But beyond all the skeletons and devils of all kinds, there’s also the more normal vibe of the city. One evening, we’re drawn to music in the middle of the Zócalo. There’s a whole group of musicians performing on the bandstand, and they’re really good. The atmosphere is amazing. 😎 Y starts dancing a few steps, much to the delight of the spectators (she always impresses!). 😉 We strike up a conversation with an American couple, really nice people, and we exchange contact info, but as often happens when traveling, you meet people you really click with and then quickly lose touch... 😐

And on Wednesday evenings, there’s a "danzón" between the Zócalo and the cathedral. "Danzón" is a dance of Cuban origin that’s become very popular in Mexico, though it seems more like a community dance than a specific style. What we see looks more like salsa. Doesn’t matter—people are dancing or watching others dance. It’s relaxed and good-natured. Ah, life is good in this country! 🙂
MI Michant Veteran ·
Hello,

Regarding the archaeological site of Zaachila, you wrote this:

I’m well aware that Zaachila has archaeological significance—it was an important center of Zapotec culture, more or less contemporary with the Monte Albán period (which is only a few kilometers away). But to be honest, we could’ve skipped the 45 pesos entry fee (per person), which added up to a total of 4–5 euros, because there’s really not much to see aside from a mound. The two tombs buried beneath it are open for visits, but it only takes a minute: there’s nothing particularly striking.

What you’re saying is backed up by the *Guide Vert*. Here’s a quote:

« What remains of the last Zapotec capital, aside from stones used by villagers as building material and pottery shards collected by children for years? The site consists of a few grassy mounds and two tombs uncovered in 1962. »
FR Frmi31 Veteran ·
This lockdown is TOUGH ::!!!!!!
Le Mexique pour toujours après de nomb Les chiens aboient la caravane passe
ME Memphre Globetrotter ·
We’re not going to Zaachila for the site but more for the market. From what I remember, I think it’s on Thursdays (double-check!)
On met longtemps à devenir jeune...
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
We’re not going to Zaachila for the site but rather for the market. From what I recall, I think it’s on Thursdays (to be confirmed)

That’s right, it’s on Thursdays. The market is really nice, and we loved the interaction with the locals (though where in Mexico isn’t the contact super friendly?).

I’ll continue this travel journal in the coming days, but in the meantime, I’ve got a lot on my plate with my return trip to Europe (visiting my mom, who really needs my support given the situation). What’s happening with flights these days is pretty problematic. 😕
FR Frmi31 Veteran ·
The borders are closed
Le Mexique pour toujours après de nomb Les chiens aboient la caravane passe
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Borders are closed

I just checked the France-Diplomatie website: https://www.diplomatie.gouv.fr/fr/le-ministere-et-son-reseau/actualites-du-ministere/informations-coronavirus-covid-19/coronavirus-les-reponses-a-vos-questions/

Here’s what it says:

"Returning to France

I’m a French national currently traveling abroad temporarily. Should I return to France immediately?

A/ If you’re a French resident within the European area (European Union, Schengen Zone, United Kingdom).

If you’re a French national with your usual residence outside France but within the European area, we recommend avoiding intra-European travel, even to return to France, unless imperative reasons require it. If you’d need to cross several land borders to get back to France, direct flights should be prioritized whenever possible.

B/ If you’re a French national with your usual residence outside the European area.

We recommend avoiding international travel as much as possible over the next 30 days, even to return to France, unless imperative reasons require it. If you feel it’s necessary to return to France—especially given health concerns—you should contact our embassies and consulates as soon as possible."

(I put a few words in bold)

These are "recommendations," even if they’re strong ones. I’d be very surprised if they refused a French citizen re-entry, especially if it’s to visit elderly relatives.
FR Frmi31 Veteran ·
Okay, in my daughter’s case, since she lives 5 km away, she should be able to come visit us given our age.
Le Mexique pour toujours après de nomb Les chiens aboient la caravane passe
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
pOK in my daughter’s case—she lives 5 km away—she should be able to come visit us given our age

I think it’s best to drop this off-topic discussion and get back (I promise) to the original topic: Mexico.
NI Nimou74 Veteran ·
pOK in my daughter’s case, since she lives 5 km away, she should be able to come visit us given our age

I think it’s best to drop this off-topic discussion and get back (I promise!) to the original topic: Mexico.

yesss! 🙂
« Voyager rend modeste. Vous voyez quelle petite place vous occupez dans le monde. » - Gustave Flaubert https://www.myatlas.com/anneclaire95
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Oaxaca – The Tlacolula Valley

While the small town of Tlacolula lends its name to the district, it might not be the main draw for travelers in the valley stretching east of Oaxaca—Mitla and Hierve el Agua are bigger attractions. I’ll come back to those, but let’s start with Tlacolula, where we went on market day. It’s only 30 km from Oaxaca, and you can easily get there by bus in under an hour (20 pesos pp). A tuk-tuk from the main road (the Pan-American Highway) to the town center costs us 15 pesos.

We arrived early in the morning and, while waiting for the market to liven up, we checked out the church. The entrance portal clearly shows indigenous (Zapotec) influence, much like in Chamula (see the SCdlC section). It’s colorful but fairly simple. The main motifs seem to be a tree of life and a repeated floral pattern above the doorway—maybe flowers. All of this contrasts with the more "European" style inside, with its heavily ornate Baroque decor (silver everywhere). We weren’t particularly impressed, having already seen so many stunning Mexican churches.

To be honest, the market didn’t excite us much either, and we didn’t stay long. We might’ve been more interested if we hadn’t already seen the Zaachila market! We continued our journey to Mitla, about a dozen kilometers away, by taxi this time—just 50 pesos.

We wandered through some deserted, uninviting streets, looking for our hotel near the archaeological zone on the town’s higher ground. From the hotel, we had a great view of the surrounding mountains (photo). Hierve el Agua is up in those mountains.

We ate for 185 pesos at a very modest restaurant—really just a private home—right above the shops clustered around Mitla’s famous ruins. There were some nice handicrafts. As usual, the textiles impressed me the most. Check out these vibrant "rugs" displayed outside one of the shops. I usually don’t jump at the first place I see, and it was farther down, away from the "market," where I found what I was looking for. From the street (the "Camino Nacional"), you could see these "rugs" and shirts hanging on lines in a house’s courtyard. It wasn’t really a shop, but we went in a little hesitantly. A young man welcomed us and gave us a demonstration on a loom while chatting with his mother… not in Spanish. We loved the understated, non-garish colors of the "mantenes"—actually meant to be table runners, but they could work for other things too (bedspreads, curtains?). That’s what you see on the left side of the photo. How could we resist? We ended up buying two for 400 pesos after a little haggling. If I’m not mistaken, that’s about half the price you’d find elsewhere.

Speaking of "mantenes," I should mention Huizache, a well-known shop in Oaxaca located halfway between the Zócalo and the Templo de Santo Domingo. They have absolutely everything, all top quality, and there’s plenty of variety. It’s pricier, of course, but this is Mexico—it’s still very affordable. We’d seen some gorgeous textiles there and thought, "Next time." Well, next time it is—for curtains in Y’s house in Isan.

Back to Mitla. Tourist buses start pouring in during the day—all for those famous ruins. We had time to wander and see the Church of San Pablo, planted right in the middle of the ruins and undoubtedly built with recycled stones. Surrounded by impressive cacti, it’s quite striking. From the entrance to the archaeological zone, we could clearly see those well-known ruins, which must’ve been photographed thousands of times (like the photo with the tourist in the red backpack). The style matches the ruins around the church, and it’s not very big. So, we decided to skip the paid visit and saved 75 pesos each. You might say it’s only about 4 euros, but it all adds up—after six weeks, it starts to make a difference! Okay, I admit we were a little stingy, hahaha!

We went back to the church. I love the simple façade—beautiful pink and cream stones. The interior isn’t mind-blowing, but I did notice the religious statues, which, for once, gave saints and holy figures darker, indigenous faces. The indigenous influence, of course, and it made me happy to see. The Virgin’s white robe is stunning.

In the evening, we returned to the central square, looking for a restaurant. There wasn’t much buzz in this little town, and dining options were limited. We settled into the small room at La Ofrenda, next to the Don Cenobio hotel. Our dinner was delicious for 400 pesos, and since the service was great, we left a 50-peso tip for the surprised young waiter.

On our way back to the hotel, we stumbled upon a lively festival on the church steps. We were the only foreigners. They offered us drinks. Sitting on the church steps, we soaked in the joyful atmosphere. I took some photos with my phone. It was night, so the quality was terrible, but when I looked closer, I thought they had a certain oil-painting or watercolor charm. The blur even fit the mysterious vibe of a pagan celebration.
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Oaxaca – The Tlacolula Valley: Hierve el Agua

The next morning, we set off for the Hierve el Agua excursion. From where we are, in the "upper" part of Mitla near the archaeological zone, it’s a good kilometer from the main road. Our bags are light, but since we’re not really sure where to find transport to Hierve el Agua, we flag down a tuk-tuk. Five minutes and 20 pesos later, we’re at a "stop" for colectivos. They’re nice, colectivos, but the downside is you have to wait until they’re full before leaving. The wait is long, with passengers trickling in. Finally, we’re on our way, joined by a couple of French-French folks—I mean the kind of French people you run into quite often who can’t string together three correct words in a foreign language—and another couple who turn out to be Québécois. It wasn’t obvious at first because the young woman speaks perfect Spanish, practically without an accent. I’ve always gotten along well with Québécois, and these two are no exception. It turns out they come to Mexico two or three times a year. He’s a freelance photographer, which gives him a lot of freedom to move around.

The colectivo takes the shortest route, a good dozen kilometers to Hierve el Agua. Once past Xaaga, a tiny little village, the road turns into nothing more than a rough, unpaved track, and the colectivo really shakes us around. We wind our way up the mountain I’d photographed the day before from the hotel, and we get stunning views of the valley below. It takes a good half-hour to arrive.

We haven’t eaten anything this morning, not even had a coffee, so our priority is to grab some food. There are a few huts in front of the site entrance. We settle in where we think we might get something decent to eat. The owner bustles around trying to light the fire under the griddle where she’ll make us "tlayudas." The acrid smoke from her efforts drives us as far away as possible from the "kitchen." Check out the photo—you’ll agree this isn’t a five-star setup! But what comes out about ten minutes later are absolutely delicious tlayudas. This dish is so good, I’m sharing a photo of it. If you ever pass through Oaxaca, don’t miss trying it! With two orange juices—excellent, by the way—Y and I pay a total of 235 pesos, which is a bit pricey for Mexico, but it was worth it, no regrets.

The site entrance costs us 25 pesos per person—that’s practically a giveaway! Unfortunately, time has slipped by, and it’s already well past 9 a.m. when we arrive at this much-touted spot for its beauty. Yes, without a doubt, I’d say it’s very beautiful. There are first of all two natural pools bordering a waterfall, all formed by the calcareous deposits from the water washing down the mountain. And it overlooks a breathtaking landscape. You can’t get enough of scanning the mountains stretching out in every direction. Wild mountains—you imagine with a little shiver what it would be like to venture into them for a few days. A mysterious, untouched Mexico, at least untouched by invaders… You think of those repeated descriptions of Castaneda’s travels with his Indian mentors, the "brujos" Don Juan and Don Genaro—there are always endless mountains, dangerous and full of "power." At least, that’s what this author chose to share, because he was heavily disputed, and the accusation of fraud still hangs in the air.

We’re not the first to arrive. There are already a good hundred people occupying the most scenic spots. Especially this one woman in a swimsuit planted right at the edge of the waterfall, smack in the middle of what would otherwise be a stunning scene. Once again, it’s the problem of people hogging the sites and not thinking of others. It’s like those people with ridiculous hats who monopolized the entrance to the church in Chamula… On top of that, this woman is far from having an attractive physique—it’s impossible to take a decent photo. Maybe a little Photoshop? But I’m not a fan of heavy photo editing… Finally, after a long wait, I get the chance to take a few halfway decent photos.

Let’s check out what’s further on. There’s a trail leading to another waterfall about 500 meters from the main site. We arrive at a small basin where the water bubbles out (well, it’s cold, so not exactly bubbling). Against a backdrop of dark green mountains, it’s pretty surreal. The trail continues and descends below the waterfalls. I go alone because Y is starting to get tired. From below, the view of the waterfall is striking, even though there’s not a drop of water today. What must it be like after a good rain!

We head back to the park entrance. Several buses are in the parking lot, waiting for all those tourists who no doubt came straight from Oaxaca. Actually, even though I’m not big on organized tours, taking one of those buses from Oaxaca might be the best option—as long as you take the first one. That way, you’re sure to arrive among the first visitors and enjoy the place more.

We take a colectivo back to Mitla. It’s 50 pesos per person each way—I forgot to mention that earlier. We meet a very friendly Franco-Colombian guy, Nicolas, someone who’s traveled a lot. He confirms what I’d already heard: Mexicans are more open than Colombians. He says he spent years in Medellín without anyone ever opening their door to him…

We wait a good hour at the Mitla bus stop—there isn’t much frequency in transport. Finally, a rickety bus arrives, and we pay 20 pesos per person to get back to Oaxaca. A taxi for 60 pesos takes us to our new hotel, right near the Mercado Benito Juárez. In the late afternoon, after a well-deserved rest, we head out for a strong margarita on the Zócalo (300 pesos), and for dinner—you guessed it—we go back to La Red. Y still hasn’t tried all the shrimp recipes yet!
ME Memphre Globetrotter ·
a well-packed margarita on the Zocalo (300 pesos)

At that price, it must’ve been well-packed indeed…
On met longtemps à devenir jeune...
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
a strong margarita on the Zocalo (300 pesos)

At that price, it had to be strong indeed…..

It was one margarita each, for me and Y. But yeah, 150 pesos is expensive for Mexico. Though I should mention it was at one of the fanciest bars on the Zocalo, and they didn’t skimp on quantity or strength!

I brought up these "refreshments" so no one thinks I’m cheap!
FR Frmi31 Veteran ·
It's not just in the Riviera Maya where everything is expensive
Le Mexique pour toujours après de nomb Les chiens aboient la caravane passe
MI Michant Veteran ·
that kind of French person you run into pretty often who can’t string together three correct words in a foreign language

a woman in a swimsuit planted right at the edge of the waterfall, smack in the middle

those people with ridiculous hats

people who hog the sites and don’t think about others

Plus, this woman is far from having a flattering figure

What can you do, nothing’s right these days, my poor sir! 😎😛
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
This kind of French person you run into quite often who can’t string together three correct words in a foreign language

A woman in a swimsuit standing right at the edge of the waterfall, smack in the middle

Those people with ridiculous hats

People who hog the sites and don’t think about others

Plus, this woman is far from having an attractive figure

What can you do, nothing’s right these days, my poor sir! 😎😛

Yeah, no point denying it—some things in life are just annoying. It’s not that I’m too hung up on them, there are better things to do, but why hide it and pretend everything’s all sweetness and light? I think it adds a bit of depth to the story, actually.
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
It’s not just on the Riviera Maya where everything is expensive

I should clarify, though, that this was an exception—things are generally much cheaper, and I might even have gotten the amount we paid for those two (large) drinks wrong. After all, memory can be fuzzy sometimes.
ME Memphre Globetrotter ·
After all, you can have a faulty memory at times.

Let’s just say it was after an excess of the aforementioned drink…

PS: Last winter, a Margarita cost between 70 and 90 pesos.
On met longtemps à devenir jeune...
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
After all, we can have a failing memory at times.

Let’s just say it was after an excess of the aforementioned drink…..

PS: Last winter, a Margarita cost between 70 and 90 pesos….

No doubt, it was a double Margarita then 🙂. I must’ve mixed up the price I paid for two orders—me and Y—for the price of a single one. My apologies!
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Oaxaca – Monte Albán: Introduction

I’m sorry for the confusion I caused about the price of a margarita ordered on the Zócalo! Prices on the Zócalo aren’t that high, actually—I remember eating at the restaurant El Jardín one of the first days, which was a pretty decent spot. Sure, we didn’t order the most expensive thing on the menu—we just had some tamales, probably washed down with a beer—and it was only 270 pesos for two people, or about 10 or 12 €.

We also grabbed coffee at Café Brújula (“The Compass”), which guidebooks recommended, but it wasn’t the best place because it was too crowded. It was just 70 pesos for two (and I wasn’t blown away by the coffee).

Try finding prices like that in a big European city—or even on the Riviera Maya, which everyone keeps raving about!

If you wander just a little off the main drag (it only takes a few minutes on foot), you’ll find the local spots. One evening, we ventured into a bar near the intersection of C. Colón and C. Melchor Ocampo. There were about a dozen customers, all Mexicans, and they looked like regular folks. We ordered rum at the counter and quickly struck up a conversation with a couple of our neighbors—people were as friendly as always, in our experience. I think it was all men in there, but as usual, everyone was respectful toward Y. Then we ordered mezcal, which earned us approving nods because “mezcal deserves respect.” The owner served us from a slightly grimy, unlabeled bottle—it was either cheap hooch or the good stuff, the kind country folks make outside the commercial circuit. A guy invited us to his table, a musician who made us promise to come see him play the next day at a restaurant. Our drinks cost us 80 pesos!

We’ve been here for several days now and feel right at home. Wandering around this city is a real pleasure. But we’ve still got plenty to do—hay mucho pan que rebanar!—and at least one exceptional site left to visit: Monte Albán. We easily found the bus to get there, just around the corner from the Mercado Benito Juárez. The fare is 60 pesos round-trip per person. Monte Albán is just a few kilometers outside the city, perched on a hill you can see when heading to Zaachila or the airport. Entry is 75 pesos per person.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s worth saying: foreigners pay the exact same prices as Mexicans, which I think is worth noting. It’s a refreshing change from the inflated prices foreigners have to pay for visits in India or Thailand, and it’s made me appreciate Mexico even more!

For the introduction, I won’t bother reinventing the wheel—I’ll just paraphrase Wikipedia: https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monte_Albán "Monte Albán is a major archaeological site that reached its peak during the Zapotec period between 200 and 600 AD, though it was likely founded by the Olmec people. It’s located about 10 km from the city of Oaxaca de Juárez. This city was built on an artificially leveled surface atop a mountain, towering 400 meters above the valley floor (at an actual altitude of 1,941 meters)."

I could go on and on praising Mexico: there’s always high-quality information available at archaeological sites and museums. Check out the photo of the first sign at the site—it’s in three languages, please: Spanish, English, and what I think is Zapotec. With an overview of the site. You can’t do better than that. Among other things, we’re told this is the first major urban center known on the American continent—nothing less! Monte Albán is one of the few sites in the world that clearly demonstrates the development of a state and a system of government (you might think of Angkor Wat in Cambodia, but Angkor is much more recent). Perched on this hill, the system was based on tributes paid by the various agricultural communities in the Oaxaca valleys.

I think I’ve whetted your appetite. I’ll take a short break before continuing. Hasta luego, amigos!
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Oaxaca – Monte Albán: The Site

The site strikes you with its almost geometric purity and the sense of space you feel there. It’s monumental yet remains light. We had the same impression at Teotihuacan, though we know it’s a different culture… But can we doubt there were influences in both directions? The two sites are roughly contemporary, spanning from the middle of the millennium before Christ to the end of the first millennium of the Christian era. We found Palenque more compact, though, constrained by dense jungle.

The central plaza of Monte Albán is perfectly flat. The Zapotecs clearly put in significant earthmoving efforts. The buildings are arranged all around as well as along a central axis in the middle of the plaza. The first photo shows pretty well what you see when coming from the north (that’s the official entrance). In the background on the left is the South Platform (PS). I took this photo as we were leaving, and visitors were starting to arrive, but even so, you can see the site is far from crowded. This isn’t Teotihuacan!

The second photo I took earlier from the top of the PS, so it’s a view to the north—no one around! On the east side of the PS, there’s still a beautiful stele featuring what I interpret as a warrior wearing an outlandish headdress. And smiling? That would be a first… The sculpture is somewhat heavy but far from unpleasant.

My third photo, taken from the top of the PS: it’s the building on the northwest side of the platform, where you’ll find the famous « Danzantes ». In the background, the Oaxaca Valley and the mountains. The next photo shows how Monte Albán stands magnificently in the middle of the valley and also how much greener it is than Teotihuacan. But less so than Palenque—further south, you’re in rainier zones. Obvious, my dear Watson!

It’s for this (relative) greenery and this atmospheric layout overlooking a stunning valley that I’d say, if pressed, it’s the site I preferred in Mexico (I’d also visited Uxmal in Yucatán ages ago). It’s certainly a remarkable site, one of the most beautiful I’ve seen.

The site’s importance is obvious, and not just for tourists or archaeologists! Coming down from the PS, we stumble upon a circle of people sitting cross-legged, chanting I don’t know what while swaying back and forth. They’re neither Indigenous nor mestizo—they’re either « güeros » or foreigners, which wouldn’t surprise me. Probably people seeking a spiritual experience in a « sacred place ».

The last photo is of one of the « danzantes ». These are a few bas-reliefs of « dancers », or at least that’s what we think they are, found at the base of the PS on its northwest side. Same remarks as for my « smiling warrior »—it’s not particularly fine sculpture.

I’ll leave you here for today. We spotted a café next to the museum at the site entrance, and we haven’t eaten anything this morning!

As I said, I really enjoyed this visit. Y too (she doesn’t talk much in my story—I should give her more space! 😉). She also loved the greenery and… the flowers!
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Oaxaca – Monte Albán: The Museum

The café at the back of the museum has a pleasant terrace with a view of part of the valley below. We order coffee, which costs 150 pesos if I remember correctly. A bit pricey, but it’s the real deal—good coffee—and this isn’t the cheapest spot in town either. We really needed to stretch our legs after trekking through the ruins.

The museum isn’t huge and can easily be visited in half an hour if you’re in a hurry (though an hour is better). There are still quite a few interesting things to see. As always, the pottery catches my eye, just like everywhere else in the world. Pottery and textiles—have you noticed? It’s not just booze and churches!

The figure in the first photo is sporting one of those extravagant headdresses. Once again, it seems these indigenous cultures placed particular importance on hair and what they wore on top of it. And if I’m not mistaken, this was true for other cultures in the Americas too—at least, the Native Americans of North America were well known for it.

I can’t resist sharing the second photo—a rather grotesque figure that reminds me of Butt-Head, one of the stars of a popular American animated TV series from the ’90s. A character who added his own brand of slyness to the duo’s sheer stupidity with Beavis. 🙁😉 Just in case you don’t know what I’m talking about, I’ll throw in a picture of Butt-Head too—it’ll expand your cultural horizons, hahaha!

Among other things, the museum gives a description of Zapotec writing. We’re told it may have been the first writing system in Mesoamerica—a vast region stretching from northern Mexico to Costa Rica, encompassing Aztec, Mixtec, Olmec, Zapotec, Maya, and other cultures. Since there was certainly no writing further north and the Incas to the south didn’t have any either, this would make it the first writing system in the Americas. That’s no small feat! It hasn’t been fully deciphered, but it seems to have been a mix of pictograms, phonetic signs, and abstract symbols. There are parallels to be drawn—in terms of the development of writing—with Egypt or China.

Another interesting explanation concerns the importance the Zapotecs placed on astronomical observations and the development of calendars. This brings the Maya to mind. And weren’t these the same concerns found in all ancient civilizations—Sumer, Babylon, China, etc.? In the end, we’re all the same across the world.

At the museum entrance, you can also see examples of dental modifications from the Oaxaca valleys (it wasn’t just skulls they deformed). First photo: inlays on Mixtec teeth. Second photo: filed and grooved teeth from an unspecified culture. Ouch—just thinking about it makes me cringe, and I hate going to the dentist!

Let’s also mention this modern art exhibit—a ceramics project called *Metamorfosis* by Fernando Peguero from Santa Maria Atzompa. The pieces are striking, almost like jellyfish. And what about these two works by Lalo Martínez? A colorful skull smiles at passersby, and here’s an original flowerpot adorned with a string of skulls. Perfect gifts to bring back for Aunt Marie-Julie, right? 😉

Mexican artists never lack inspiration or imagination—their cultural heritage is extraordinarily rich… and quite psychologically complex, I’d say!

Like in all museums, there’s a gift shop next door selling all sorts of souvenirs and books. I never buy souvenirs there—if there’s anything nice, it’s always expensive. But books… I can’t help but browse, and I need something to read. I pick up *Una Realidad Aparte* by Carlos Castaneda. It’s the second book in his sensational series from the ’60s and ’70s about his initiatory experiences with the Indian sorcerers Don Juan and Don Genaro. Many people consider these experiences fictional, and I’m one of them. Still, it’s an entertaining read, and diving back into it—in Spanish this time—is also a kind of journey into the Mesoamerican imagination.

We return to Oaxaca in the early afternoon. We’re a little hungry, so we head to the Mercado nearby. I don’t know what the dish was called—probably a chocolate-based sauce—but it was delicious and exactly what I needed! 😛 The meal (for two) cost 150 pesos, and we washed it down with a good orange juice for 30 pesos. We still have hours to wander around Oaxaca, which isn’t unpleasant. Later in the afternoon, two margaritas set us back… 150 pesos, yep! 😉
AQ Aquilegia Globetrotter ·
We got back to Oaxaca in the early afternoon. We were a bit peckish, so we headed to the Mercado right nearby. I don’t know what the dish was called—some kind of sauce based on chocolate, probably—but it was delicious and just what I needed!

Hi there,

As I mentioned in another thread, the sauce in your photo is mole negro, made with chili peppers, and there’s a bit of chocolate among the ingredients. A good mole negro isn’t sweet—it’s actually a bit bitter, spicy, with a complex flavor thanks to a bunch of ingredients (including chili peppers, herbs, spices, nuts, chocolate, and seeds). The black color comes mostly from burning the chili seeds, not the chocolate.
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
As I explained in another discussion, the sauce (in your photo), mole negro, is made from chili peppers—even though there’s a bit of chocolate among the ingredients. A good mole negro isn’t sweet but rather a bit bitter, spicy, with a complex flavor thanks to a bunch of ingredients (including chili peppers, herbs, spices, nuts, chocolate, and seeds). The black color comes mostly from the chili seeds that are burned, rather than the chocolate.

Ah, okay, thanks for the explanation. Indeed, the taste is never sweet but rather a bit bitter or tangy. Burning the chili seeds—that’s interesting.
ME Memphre Globetrotter ·
Hi,

I’m really not a fan of mole negro… it seems to me that peppers, chocolate, and chicken just don’t go well together. You shouldn’t confuse 'exotic cuisine' with gastronomy… I must be really picky…! The only Mexican dish that wins me over is *rellenos*—whether it’s chicken, shrimp, or beef.
On met longtemps à devenir jeune...
AQ Aquilegia Globetrotter ·
Here’s a recipe (in Spanish) for Mole Negro de Oaxaca. Even if you don’t read Spanish, you can see that the preparation is pretty complicated with lots of ingredients. A key ingredient is the chilcahuatle pepper, which is almost impossible to find outside the state of Oaxaca. Mole Negro is the jewel of Oaxaca’s gastronomy.

https://lossaboresdemexico.com/receta-mole-negro-de-oaxaca/
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Hi there,

I’m really not a fan of mole negro… it seems to me that chili peppers, chocolate, and chicken don’t go well together. We shouldn’t confuse ‘exotic cuisine’ with gastronomy… I must be pretty picky…! The only Mexican dish that wins over my taste buds is *rellenos*—whether with chicken, shrimp, or beef.

Hi Francis,

I’m not surprised by what you’re saying. Not confusing "exotic cuisine" with gastronomy—that’s spot on.

I’ve often shared how much I enjoyed the food we found in the regions we traveled through in Mexico, but we didn’t always find the food excellent either. Plus, it’s pretty repetitive. Sure, tortillas are way better than the arepas you constantly find on your plate in Colombia, but in my humble opinion, they’re not as satisfying as good bread or (to avoid being too Franco-French) the variety of chapatis, parathas, puris, etc., you find in India.

And the grated cheese they serve way too often on top of Mexican dishes? Not exactly a brilliant move either. As far as cheese goes, I’ll pass (I hated it).

Tastes and preferences vary, obviously, and everyone has their own experiences. Overall, I’d say you eat well in Mexico (and it’s cheap), but I didn’t find it lived up to the "haute gastronomy" hype you often read about in guidebooks.
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Here’s a recipe (in Spanish) for Mole Negro de Oaxaca. Even if you don’t read Spanish, you can see that the preparation is quite complicated with lots of ingredients. A key ingredient is the chilcahuatle pepper, which is almost impossible to find outside the state of Oaxaca. Mole Negro is the jewel of Oaxaca’s gastronomy.

https://lossaboresdemexico.com/receta-mole-negro-de-oaxaca/

What a mix! Among other things: raisins (sultanas), oregano, cloves, cinnamon, avocado leaves, walnuts, almonds, peanuts, etc... plus, of course, chocolate and chili. There must be hundreds of personal recipes!
GE GeorgesOZ Globetrotter ·
Food

Since we're on the topic of food, and chocolate in particular, we're definitely in the land of chocolate (a Nahuatl word "xoxolatl")! Cocoa beans are roasted in several small shops in Oaxaca, and the aroma fills the streets! I noticed they add spices, cinnamon, and maybe cloves? Many chocolate shops serve chocolate-based drinks. We treated ourselves to a large "chocomio" (if I remember the name correctly)—it’s this big cup filled with a creamy, refreshing chocolate drink. You just have to see the concentration on Y’s face while enjoying it—a true delight! 😛 (Apologies again for "hiding" their face). We had to make an effort not to have one every day, for fear of becoming "gorditos" like many Mexicans!

One thing I’ve always loved is "tamales": here’s one I got at Oaxaca’s central market. Amazing and filling (50 pesos). 😛 …. I also mentioned Colombia: the meat was excellent, but it was meat and nothing but meat every day? And the "arepas" were coming out of my ears. 🙁 Luckily, there was often a good "sopita" as a starter, and then (that’s why I’m mentioning it) some great "tamales" too.

Oh, and those famous margaritas on the Zócalo! I know someone who really knew how to enjoy them. Salud! Hips! 😎😛[;]
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Bibouns51 yesterday
Off on an adventure in Namibia!
April 11 – Day 1

It was winter, a winter with beautiful weather, A season that only exists in the southwest of America, I remember very well what I told you that morning A month ago... A century ago, an eternity ago... We’ll go... wherever you want, whenever you want...

Well, yeah, back from our adventure in our enchanting American West just a month ago, we’re already taking a bite out of one of its lesser-known competitors. "Flo, if you had to pick just one reason to justify your love for the U.S., what would it be?" The greasy, dripping burgers? No, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by saying it’d be the wide-open spaces... And that’s exactly what our new quest is taking us to—a land on the other side of the globe where the horizon also seems endless, where silence tastes like salty wind and sand, where freedom is measured in kilometers of desert tracks, where the GPS is mostly there to confirm you’re lost in the middle of nowhere... Add to that magic formula the fact that you’ll see more zebras, giraffes, wildebeest, and elephants than people per square kilometer, and you can imagine us setting foot in Southern Africa for the first time, more precisely at the small airport in Windhoek, capital of... of...? Brush up on your geography, damn it! We’re landing in Namibia!!!



To be honest, Namibian landscapes have been flirting with me for ages. So how did I resist this island of temptation for so long? First, the budget. Let’s just say that for the same amount of effort (and kidneys), the bank lets you choose two other adventures almost anywhere else on the planet. Then there were my girls. Yeah, back then, they were too little to dose up on Malarone, the only malaria remedy at the time... Long story short, ten years later, all the planets have aligned. First, I won the Euromillions! Well, almost... Let’s just say my girls are now old enough... not to take Malarone, but to stop following me on all my adventures! Jackpot! "Flo, how about a little two-person caprice, just the two of us, tackling the Namibian tracks?"



As we landed on the runway, first wow effect: The horizon is immense. It’s flat as can be, incredibly flat... So much flat space! Did I mention it was flat?... Looking into the distance, it feels like your gaze could circle the Earth without hitting a single obstacle—until you end up staring at your own backside. "Oh, what a nice view!" Well, it’s the first time I’ve seen my butt from this angle! Touching moment... Sorry, I’m rambling—must be the exhaustion from the three-flight marathon we just powered through via Ethiopia and South Africa... And yet, no time to philosophize about my anatomy. As usual, we want to rack up our first kilometers to be front and center at dawn tomorrow. After wrapping up the tedious Namibian immigration formalities and meeting the 4x4 that’ll be our companion day and night for the next fifteen days, we’re off! We’re not exactly fresh, but we’re ready to tackle the next five hundred kilometers in night mode, cruise control set due south! Just outside Windhoek, the local wildlife—a jackal—welcomes us with a smile: "Welcome to Namibia!" That’s what it said! Honest... Okay, first endless straight road, first flaming sunset, first corrugated dirt track, first Milky Way with zero light pollution... You get it—it’s definitely the day of firsts... First night camping, too, in the big trunk of our Toyota Fortuner parked by the side of the track... The real adventure, the kind that smells under the arms, can finally begin...

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FamilleUS yesterday
Les classiques de la Tanzanie (Safari & Zanzibar)
J'ai hésité à faire ce carnet de voyage... Cet été, nous n'avons fait que du classique (les 3 parcs du Nord et Zanzibar) et nous nous sommes laissés porter par une agence locale de la première à la dernière minute.

Pas de folie, pas de prise de risque, pas de nuit à la belle étoile, pas de self-drive, pas d'écart hors des sentiers battus, pas d'incidents et même pas de retards dans le programme défini à l'avance...

Mais ne croyez pas que nous soyons déçus ! Toute la famille (nous étions 6) est rentrée avec le sourire et le souvenir de très bons moments passés tous ensemble. Alors, si vous cherchez du "classique" pour découvrir la Tanzanie, c'est ici que ça se passe.

Notre programme sur 2 semaines : - Arusha (1 nuit à l'arrivée) - Tarangire (1 nuit) - NgoroNgoro (2 nuits à Karatu puis Irmisigiyo) - Serengeti (3 nuits à Robanda, Togoro Plains et Seronera) - Zanzibar Stone Town (1 nuit) - Zanzibar Matemwe (3 nuits) - Zanzibar Jambiani (3 nuits)

Hakuna matata !

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Patbill yesterday · Tulipe57
A Slightly Less Touristy Japan
Hi everyone, I’m Patrick, 67 years old, a seasoned traveler (already 22 trips outside Europe). In autumn 2025, I took my first 3-week trip to Japan, with stops in Tokyo, Kamakura, Matsumoto, Kamikochi, Takayama, Kanazawa, Kyoto, Nara, Osaka, Koyasan, Tokyo again, and Nikko. I wanted to go back in May 2026 and explore some lesser-known places to complement my first trip. Last year, there were four of us traveling together to discover Japan (a fairly classic itinerary). This time, I’ll be traveling solo for part of the trip and with a couple of French friends for the rest. The weather was gorgeous in May, averaging around 25°C, with two very hot days in Kyoto and only two rainy days. As usual, I organized everything myself, gathering plenty of information from various sites, including this one.

Transportation: An ICOCA card is essential. I got a 5-day Kansai-Hiroshima pass because I took the shinkansen between Hiroshima and Osaka three times, and it paid for itself quickly.

Accommodations: Mostly through Booking. No issues at all. Average cost was 46 € per night.

Meals: For breakfast, I alternated between buying food at a konbini to eat in my room or on the train and grabbing something at local cafés. For lunch and dinner, I tried to vary my meals as much as possible—lots of sashimi, sushi, and ramen. Okonomiyaki in Osaka and Hiroshima. Oysters in every form (raw, grilled, fried) in Onomichi and Hiroshima. A variety of seafood (shrimp, shellfish) in Hiroshima and Matsumoto. Fish whose names often escaped me, but notably mackerel and eel (unagi). Tempura and gyoza. Chicken skewers (yakitori) and one teppanyaki meal. One omakase meal (9 different dishes). In the end, not much meat aside from a few yakitori skewers. No splurges on super expensive wagyu or Kobe beef. Average dinner cost: 4,800 yen, drinks included.

The Itinerary: Day 1: Departure from Brussels Day 2: Arrival in Osaka Day 3: To Himeji, then Kurashiki Day 4: To Fukuyama, then Tomo no Ura, then Onomichi Day 5: Cycling the Shimanami Kaido Day 6: To Takahara, then Hiroshima Day 7: To Kyoto to attend the Aoi Matsuri parade Day 8: To Miyajima Day 9: Hiroshima, then Kyoto Day 10: Southern Kyoto Day 11: Northern Kyoto Day 12: Final day in Kyoto, then to Nagatsugawa Day 13: Start of the Nakasendo Trail (Magome to Tsumago) Day 14: Second day of the trail (Kiso Fukushima) Day 15: Third day of the trail (Narai), then Matsumoto Day 16: To Mt. Fuji (Kawaguchiko) Day 17: To Tokyo Day 18: Excursion to Enoshima and Kamakura Day 19: Flight home, with a 10-hour layover in Hong Kong Day 20: Arrival in Brussels
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Judau yesterday · Solene40
A little piece of Sulawesi with the family: Rantepao and Selayar
I’d been wanting to discover Sulawesi for years. But then life happened—COVID, the cost of flight tickets, you name it. Long story short, years went by, but we finally set off as a family for a three-week trip in southern Sulawesi: Rammang Rammang, Rantepao, Sengkang, Bira, and Selayar. I like to spend a good amount of time in the places I visit, giving myself the chance to really get to know the area and meet locals. So no island-hopping this time—just the south. But when I say "just," it’s not restrictive at all, given how rich this island is in landscapes, little encounters, and magical moments.

Wednesday 07/08 - Thursday 07/09: We left Montpellier for what was supposed to be five flights, though we only took four to start, landing in Jakarta. We picked up our luggage there to catch a flight to Makassar the next day. That’s the only way we could get an affordable ticket (702 €). I won’t bore you with the flight details—there’s not much to say. We arrived at 7 PM and considered heading straight to Makassar that evening. But we opted for a recovery night before taking off again. Good thing we did, because my son’s suitcase was missing... First contact with the locals was a bit stressful—a trip without your luggage isn’t exactly fun. But right away, a woman reassured us: the suitcase was just enjoying some extra time in Singapore. Maybe it was doing some last-minute shopping. Anyway, nothing serious—it was supposed to arrive at 9 AM the next day. That gave us some breathing room since our flight wasn’t until noon. So off we went to our hotel (Days Hotel & Suites) near the airport. It was cheap (40 € for three rooms—my kids are older and need their space), but it wasn’t worth much more. The place had definitely seen better days. But no big deal—we were only there for the night, and... we got to watch France beat Morocco in the World Cup live at 3 AM. That’s what really mattered!

Friday 07/10: In search of the lost suitcase First challenge of the morning: finding our missing suitcase. They sent us to the airport basement, to the staff entrance. We were greeted with smiles, and an airport employee led me through the underground corridors back to the baggage claim. Right on time at 9 AM, the suitcase arrived, just like they’d promised. We were finally complete! Off we went to change terminals, grab a well-deserved meal, and board our fifth flight to Makassar. Little side note: I struggled for a while trying to book domestic flights directly on the airlines’ websites with no luck. Without meaning to advertise (though I guess I am a little), I realized it’d be easier to use sites like tiket.com or Traveloka. That turned out to be a great choice—I even ended up booking hotels through them later in the trip. 12:40 PM: We were on our way to Makassar. First good news: we were the only tourists. Well, the only European tourists on the flight, anyway. No, you’re not dreaming—the bag is full of... potato chip packets. To each their own souvenirs, I guess...



When we arrived in Makassar, a driver was waiting to take us straight to Rammang Rammang: 250,000 IDR (12 €) to our guesthouse (Rammang Rammang House). Forget about meeting people on the bus—we were headed straight to the first stop of our trip, and it was already stunning.

My kids’ guesthouse:

Ours:

View of the little lake:

But not everything is straightforward around here. I wanted to get a local SIM card for internet and calls. I found them expensive at Jakarta’s airport (20 € for 20 GB), so I decided to wait. Well, no luck in Rammang Rammang either. You can’t just buy one from the local shop—you need a Telkomsat store (they have the best coverage). So we’d have to wait for Rantepao to get Wi-Fi... When I say "local shop," I mean the little shack around the corner. No big deal—we’d find one easily in Rantepao for 5 € and 25 GB. So there we were, offline, just the four of us enjoying the amazing view.

Saturday 07/11: Rammang Rammang We woke up early to the sound of wedding music blasting through the village (everyone’s invited!). Off we went to explore the area. A little walking, a little boat ride (shared with a French tourist and a Polish one—yes, there *are* tourists here, just not many; 750,000 IDR for up to 8 people) through a lovely canal, and we discovered the karst site. It was peaceful and beautiful. The river: The karst site:







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Larri yesterday
Peru: A Childhood Dream Finally Fulfilled
Preamble

I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).

So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!

We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice. For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.

We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.

Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).

Day 1 – Paris to Lima

Foreword I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.

Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).

Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.

As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.

Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.

Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
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Cupda yesterday · Dominikue
Palermo street art
Okay, Palermo—we know it. We go there to marvel at the architectural wonders born from the Arab-Norman-Byzantine-Gothic mix. And rightly so. We also go to treat our taste buds to all kinds of delights, both savory and sweet. Again, rightly so. We go to succumb to the charms of Palermo’s women, their sun-kissed skin glowing with golden highlights. Still, rightly so. And all while fantasizing about a mafia we’ll never actually see. Anyway.

But you’ll also find street art everywhere, even in the historic center. Sometimes, you just need to step a few meters away from the main tourist highways like Cassaro, Via Maqueda, or the main arteries of the Ballarò, Capo, or Vucciria markets to stumble upon some amazing murals. Duck into one or two slightly grimy alleys, weaving past trash and crumbling walls, and you’ll find real gems.

For example, just 50 meters south of the main artery of the Mercato del Capo, there’s a great spot with dozens of murals in a tiny neighborhood of run-down mini-houses. You’ll find plenty more south of the Mercato di Ballarò, in the Albergheria (the grittier side, not the one near Cassaro). There’s some in Ballarò itself too, but it’s hard to spot when the market’s in full swing with stalls everywhere. La Kalsa isn’t left out either, nor is Vucciria—just step away from the restaurant-packed streets.

Here are a few examples that really caught my eye.

(In the heart of Albergheria, on a street every visitor walks down—lovely message from an unidentified artist)
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Bibouns51 yesterday
Off on a winter adventure in the American West!
Day 1 – February 14

We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...

But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.

"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?



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Pagaljavab yesterday · RichardXI
16 days with family in La Gomera (Canary Islands)
Preamble: Why La Gomera?

When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”

This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...

Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.

Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!

La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory. The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.

La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.

Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.

Some practical info: - The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side. - We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €. - The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen. - Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day. - Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.

Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!



And we start the trip with music!

We start the trip with music!
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Eiger yesterday · Grezg
The Moluccas: Splendors (and Struggles) of an Archipelago Unknown to Tourists
Hello everyone!

This travel journal aims to help future travelers (well, I hope so!), since there’s so little information available about this remote archipelago. Big thanks to Lolodesiles and Ayis for answering my questions while I planned this trip!



Context This is our fourth trip to Indonesia as a couple—after Java-Bali in 2011, Flores-Komodo in 2013, and Sulawesi in 2016—each time for three weeks. It’s also our tenth trip to Southeast Asia overall.

We’re traveling like we have in previous years: with a rough itinerary that often changes based on who we meet, tips from other travelers, how tired we are, or what we’re feeling in the moment. In the Moluccas, it’ll change constantly, mostly depending on transportation.

Our only accommodation booking: the first few nights in Ambon when we arrive.

Planned route (to be refined on the spot): Ambon - Banda Islands - Lease Islands - Ternate - Tidore - Halmahera (between Sofifi and Tobelo) - Morotai and the neighboring unnamed archipelago.

Flights: Lyon-Paris-Singapore on Air France (428 € round-trip), with good meals, champagne, and wine (we like our little comforts when going on vacation 😏). Then Singapore-Jakarta-Ambon on Air Asia and Garuda. Return flight: Ternate-Jakarta-Singapore on Lion Air, with a 3-day stopover in Singapore before heading home.

Episode 1: Ambon to Banda Our guesthouse, booked two days before departure, is 45 minutes from Ambon Airport, near Natsepa Beach (northeast of Leihitu). It’s a pretty average beach—quiet on weekdays but packed on Sundays (we saw the difference). It’s lined with warungs. This rainy day helps us readjust to the atmosphere of this country we love so much.

Our “Solim Guesthouse” is a lovely house with a living/dining room and garden, costing 15 € per night for two, including a hearty breakfast. Dinner is at Gaba Gaba, a great restaurant just a short walk away, right by the water, recommended by our host. Fun fact: it’s in the Lonely Planet, and it might be the only LP-listed spot in the Moluccas that actually matches the description (the others either don’t exist or have nothing to do with what’s advertised 😠).

For the next two days, the super-friendly owner lends us his scooter. We set off to explore the coastal villages in northern Leihitu (the western part of Ambon Island, which has a weird shape). Laundry and trucks washed in the same stream.

Liang Beach, described as the island’s most beautiful, is almost gone (climate change or something else?), but the colors are magical.

We continue 25 km toward a snorkeling spot our host recommended, taking a gorgeous, deserted little road through tiny villages in clove plantations (oh, those unforgettable scents!), stunning coves, and dense forest.



We’re greeted dozens of times with “Hello Mister”—a daily routine in the Moluccas. Every time we stop, we pose for photos to be saved on locals’ smartphones. They don’t see tourists often.



We ask for directions to the snorkeling spot (not easy—we only know basic Indonesian like *Selamat pagi*, *siang*, *sore*, and other polite phrases). Not many people know where it is (especially since we never know which village we’re in), but we eventually reach a small village that seems to be the right place. 🙂



We ask a local to take us there by boat (it’s not reachable by land).



The spot is at most 100 meters long, but the coral is in good condition (apparently not dynamited by fishermen, unlike in other parts of this beautiful country where fishing methods are destructive and nature pays the price 😠). The fish are plentiful and diverse. It’s a great start before heading to Banda. We’re happy to have the place to ourselves… though we don’t yet realize we won’t see a single tourist for the rest of the trip!

After two days of rest, we head to Tulehu Port in the morning, aiming for the Banda Islands. We know the journey is often tricky: the Pelni ferry runs twice a month but doesn’t match our dates, the 10-seat Suzi Air plane is always full (you can’t book—you have to show up on Mondays and Fridays), and it’s often canceled due to weather. So we opt for the Tuesday speedboat (which also gets canceled if there are waves or wind), with the next one on Saturday. We’re used to Indonesian ports—crowded, rusty boats, no English speakers—but we still feel lost. When I ask about the speedboat to Bandaneira, people gesture wildly, someone takes me to the “harbor office,” then tells me there’s no boat, others try to sell me tickets, and some just say, “No boat.”



Luckily, an English-speaking local approaches us and confirms the speedboat is broken. The next one will be Saturday *if* it’s fixed—otherwise, even later. 🤪 😠 We’re crushed. We came here for the Banda Islands… 🙁 We decide waiting five days for a maybe-boat isn’t an option, so we decide to head straight to North Moluccas, which was planned for later. We’re so disappointed we don’t even want to stay in the area. The Lease Islands don’t appeal to us despite what we’ve read, and Seram would deserve its own trip with its remote mountain tribes. Huge disappointment—we’d been dreaming of Banda for months, with its incredible drop-offs like Bunaken, its islands covered in nutmeg trees, etc. I’d read that Banda is in the world’s top 5, alongside Bunaken (amazing—we went in 2016), Komodo (incredible—we went in 2013), Sipadan, and another spot I’ve forgotten.

We take a taxi back to Ambon (45 minutes) to a travel agency to buy plane tickets to Ternate. There’s a daily ATR72 flight at noon—perfect timing. Ambon is the capital of South Moluccas (or Central, depending on who you ask!) with 300,000 people. The city doesn’t seem unpleasant, but we don’t stop. On the plane, there are only about ten passengers for 72 seats. The flight attendants are stunning, as always with Wings Air—clearly, they’re hired for their looks. 😊



Stopover in Bacan—a runway in the middle of coconut trees serving a tiny town—then we fly over countless volcanoes, the last one towering over Ternate.

Next episode coming soon: Ternate.
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Bibouns51 yesterday
Off on an adventure in Uzbekistan!
April 5 - Day 1

After as many weeks as I have fingers on my right hand, we're hitting the road again, fully recovered from our pharaonic adventure. Back in France to drop off our daughters (sorry, girls!), this time it's just the two of us, ready to be welcomed by a new destination. They say it offers one of the richest cultural heritages in the world for those willing to put in the effort. It's the land of the ancient Silk Road, where we'll follow a journey steeped in history and discoveries straight out of *One Thousand and One Nights*. A former Soviet bloc region independent only since 1991, we'll be walking in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Alexander the Great, Marco Polo...

Another fun fact about this country: it's strictly forbidden to import porn on your phone. True story. The same goes for painkillers! Unless it's about sodomy—though the two don’t seem connected, that’s just how it is. Don’t ask me why! Anyway, I’m getting off track. Here’s the big question: Where do you think we’ve just landed?... To give you a hint, the locals are known for being incredibly welcoming. No sooner said than done—our first taxi driver, proud to transport French travelers, refused to let us pay for the ride. Great vibes for these two weeks ahead. So, any guesses? Uzbekistan!!!
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Holigirl yesterday · Aude073
South Africa in safari mode: February/March 2026
Hi everyone,

With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo. But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip. And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.

So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays: - 3 nights in St Lucia - 1 night in Hluhluwe - 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini) - 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini) - 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti) - 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve - 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie

All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.

I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).

To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.

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Ellobo yesterday
The Pearl of Africa - July-August 2026
Preamble: Africa was calling to me, so a year ago, with our usual travel companions, we decided to return to the continent we love so much. Where to go? Uganda quickly caught our attention—wildlife we’re used to seeing, plus gorillas and the shoebill we missed in Zambia. We got in touch with Paul, who’s been mentioned several times on the forum back in September, booked our flight tickets, secured the gorilla permits, and by early October, the most important things were done. We still had plenty of time to hold our "prep meetings" for the final itinerary.

Three days before departure, I sprained my ankle (my weak spot, as you’ll recall from our Colombia trip). I wasn’t in great spirits, but after a year of waiting, nothing was going to stop me. We’d see how it goes! Off we went for our new adventures
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Garyvix 2 days ago
Carnet pratique : road trip en scooter - Flores & Lembata (été 2026)
Bonjour, De retour sur le forum - et première rédaction d'un espèce de carnet de retour de notre 4ème voyage en Indo.

Contexte : une trentaine de jours, en scooter et en duo, sur Florès (et une petite incursion dans l'archipel de Solor, plus précisément à Lembata (chut, faut pas trop en parler !!!), qui donne envie d'en faire beaucoup plus là bas malgré les infrastructures sporadiques), en partie dans des destinations déjà bien connues du forum (la classique Ruteng / Bajawa / Riung / Moni voir baie de Maumere) ... et qui ne parlera pas du PN de Komodo ou de Wae Rebo, puisque nous n'y sommes pas allés 🏴‍☠️.

Texte en anglais (issu d'une autre plateforme). Sans nul doute, des traducteurs intelligents ou pas marcheront à merveille en cas d'anglophobie 🤪.

Disponible à toute fin utile pour des détails ou infos.

Equippement : Yam' Nmax 155 ; 2x saccoches cavalières (25L) + sac de selle (30L) + saccoche tunnel (15L pour le matos photo) ; casques et vêtements d'enduro amenés depuis la France.

Itinéraire : boucle depuis Labuan bajo jusqu'à Pulau Lembata ; juillet-août 2026

Road conditions graded from A (excellent) to D (very bad, at least for a Scooter… a CRF/KLX or even honda ADV would do better on that) D1 : Labuan Bajo – Reok via Ranggoe, Rego & Tagol (130km ; 5hrs). Section LBajo – Rego (90 km ; B) is quite good tarmac, despite a lot of elevation with many small valleys and passes. Rego – Tagol (10km ; D) is a stone road (not gravel), some ascents & very poor condition ; necessary to lower tyre pressure. Tagol – Reok port (22km, quality depends considerably from D to B). Reok port – Towncenter : B. Night @Iffah Homestay (100k for fan room, mandi attached, no breakfast), simple but clean. Notes : path to danau Sano Limbung was closed ; access to Tiwu Pai & Wae Kuli (waterfalls) not permitted in july 2026. D2 : Reok – Riung via Pota (105km ; 3h-3h30). The road is very narrow in some part, thanks to the uncut bushes (lowering visibility hence extra caution as animals/people can suddenly appear in a turn…) but generally good condition except many eroded sections and some unpaved ones. Grade C/B. 2 nights @Mentos (285k for AC room) D3 : Boat tour in Riung (booked directly with a captain, 800k for two for private boat incl. lunch and NP fees) + sunset from Watu Mitong Riung (should not be missed). D4 : Riung – Muku Saki via Mbay (around 100km ; 3h30). Quality varies from A in the vicinity of Mbay to eroded sections (C) in secluded places. Night @Sao Paolo Homestay (250k for fan room with mandi, maybe overpriced but nice house and great food). Note : if you happen to pass by Mbay on Saturday, the market is well worth a stop (cheapest Ikat on the trip : you’ll be asked normal prices providing you’re OK in Bahasa…) D5 : Muku Saki – Tanjung Kajuwulu (near Ndete) (90km, 3h). Many patholes, eroded (C). Night at Déjà Vu Homestay (220k for a matress on the floor & outside mandi/toilets ; I woud define this as a tourist trap – the quote we had for food was double priced too…) D6 : Tanjung Kajuwulu – Waiterang (east of Maumere, 55km , 1h30). Pathholes till maumere, then All good (TransFlores), C/A. Night at Sunset Cottage (new concrete room, very serene place ; 270k for AC with bathroom ; much prefered Sunset over Lena House (more customers, more built up). D7 : Waiterang – Larantuka via Boru and Eputobi (TransFlores ; grade A ; 115km / 2h40). Particularly liked the drink stalls (marked as Rest Area Eputobi) and the out of order aquatic park just before Larantuka (obyej wisata waiplatin). Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay, which is not advertising itself as Larantuka Beach Homestay as some contributor signals here and on goole maps review. Best breakfast of the trip (Cumi Cumi !!!) ; 275k for AC room with bathroom. D8 : Local Boat (Kapal Kayu) from the main port to Lembata (Lewoleba). Departure 8am ; price 60k/head + 50k for the bike. Stop enroute on Adonara (where we did not stop due to fights between communities). Night @Elmany Homestay (275k for AC room with bathroom, fan room with shared bathroom also available). Whole afternoon at Pantai Hadakewa, fantastic place (good snorkeling, great views of Ile Api aka Gn Lewotolo). Road condition : A (did not expect the TransLembata to be that good…). D9 : Loop around Ile Api (50km, 2hrs), anticlockwise. Stops enroute at Situs Tulang Paus (whale squeletton), pantai Jotona, pantai Wena (we expected to snorkel from there, but wind was very strong that day), situs Watu Nale, Selat Sonia. The western coast is far less interesting. Road conditions : bad (C) on the eastern side (up to Riangbeda), good (B/A) afterwards. Night @Elmany Homestay. D10 : Lewoleba – Lamalera via the western and south coast (70km, 2h30). Good road (B) for roughly the first 55km (up to Tapobali), then eroded track for the last 15km (in some parts steep and dangerous) up to Lamalera (D/C). Notes : 1/ Kuma resort denied us the entry for some drink ; 2/Pantai Waijarang « complex » is abandonned but closed with fences ; you can still sneak in ; 3/ some reports advise to skip Bukit Cinta (foreigner entry fee) for Bukit Doa Watomiten (stations of the cross) ; well Bukit Cinta has also been abandonned (well spent money…sic) but remains opened with structures falling (quickly) appart. Night @Lamalera Inn (200k per head including meals ; very basic fan room + attached mandi). Planned 2 nights, spent only one, as it’s the only tenant I had difficulties with (only interested in money, initially stated crazy prices, starts loud music at 6am … and drinking moke at 8am…) D11 : Trip to Wulandoni for the Barter Market (Saturday only). Bad road (C) along the coast. Had to report at the Kantor upon arrival, which quite surprisingly asked 100k per person (foreigner) to go inside the (outside) market. Other « local » tourists (a group from Jakarta) were not asked to pay. Well, since a market is a public space and not a zoo, we refused payment and enjoyed the activity from the kopi stall next to it. Returned then to Lamalera for the catches of the day, then to Lewoleba via the mountain road (45km, 2 hours). First 10km to Puor is in very bad condition and uphill (D/C). The remaining is on a newly constructed road (A). Note : Air Panas Sabutobo is abandonned and falling apart (again…) but there are still some water pipes along the river that you can enjoy (depending how lucky you are, just with the forest sounds as companion). Night @Elmany Homestay D12 : Chill day alond the northern coast (Batu Payung, Pantai Hadakewa with lot of snorkeling, drove till Wailolong and backtracked to Pantai Lewolein for more snorkeling (nice canyons there !) and another fantastic sunset over Ile Api (see GMaps pictures)). Night @Elmany Homestay D13 : Monday weekly market at Pada, southwest of Lewoleba. Renowned but honnestly dont plan any itinerary specifically for it, just an ordinary Kampung weekly market. Returned to Larantuka and Flores with the 12pm local boat (the same boat that leaves from Larantuka at 8am). Same prices as the first leg. Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay D14 : Larantuka – Waiterang along the northern coast (100km, 3h) via Pantai Kawaliwu, Tewuk Lewokluok (trail is easy to find, very nice snorkelling in a lagoon), Pantai Lato (to my opinion the most beautiful beach on Flores and you’ll be the only visitor, as opposed to Pantai Koka) and Pantai Hia, until rejoining the TransFlores near Nebe. Grade C on the costal eroded road / track. 3 nights @Lena Guesthouse (booked ahead as it fills up quickly, but we prefered its neighbour Sunset Beach Guesthouse) D15 : Snorkeling trip organised by Lena Guesthouse (200k per head excluding NP fees and lunch)). The drop-off near Pulau Babi is a very nice spot. D16 : scooter day trip around the Egon Range (too lazy to hike it…), through nice Sikka villages (route : Watublapi, Umauta, Bola, pantai Doreng, Nakatoli, foot of Gn Egon, Air panas Blidit). The track from Natakoli to the foot of Gn Egon is very steep, damaged and wet (with moss) ; I would recommend not to attempt that in case of bad weather. D17 : Waiterang – Moni (130km, 3h30, transflores grade A/B) via Pantai Koka (refused to pay the mafia entry fee…) and Jopu (some rumah Adat Lio). Stopped at Museum Bikon Blewut, south of Maumere. Very nice artefacts (especially wooden statues from Papuan, great ikat collection) although very disorganized and sadly non-visited (hence masterpieces fall into oblivion). 2 Nights @Liahz Lodge (150k for fan room, basic bathroom… but right next to Air Panas Liasembe (free, no closing time) !!!). D18 : Sunrise from Kelimutu with a nice weather (stayed until 8.30am). I don’t know if the sunrise is really worth it (lot of people ascending and watching the sunrise – a lot but nothing compared to e.g. Gn Bromo), nearly everyone going down around 7am, then there is virtually nobody. Trip (20km one way, good road B) to Kampung Adat Nggela (Lio). Although the village is habited and mostly out of the beaten path, I have mixed fillings due to the fact that most ladies (some are pushy) try to sell you (bad) pieces of ikat. D19 : Moni – Ende via Detusoko paddy fields, Kampung Adat Saga (Lio) and Puncak Ndona ; 75km 2h30. We really liked Saga (nice setting on the mountain, friendly villagers, no selling, mix between traditional and more modern houses in that lively village). Sunset from Bukit Raja, on the peninsula with a 360 view on Gn Iya, Gn Meja Kota Ende and the mountains behind. Note : at the end of the road (search for Gunung Meja Tourist Info Center), there is a (sand) track leading to the path. 1/ only intend the track if you have off road driving experience ; 2/ dont trust the walking time stated by Maps.me. Took us 45mins on a steady pace to reach the summit. Night @Hoja Homestay, 300k for a comfortable AC room with bathroom. D20 : Ende – Bajawa, via Air Panas Mengeruda ; grade A, 120km, 3 hours. Note : don’t plan to short in Mengeruda (Soa), very easy to spend a half day there, especially if playing with local kids. Stay @Cinnamon GH, 250k for double with fan and hot shower (cheaper options with shared hot shower availlable). D21 : First day in Bajawa : Watu Nari Wowo (Avatar Hill, sic…), Kampung Adat Ngada Tololela & Gurusina (very very friendly people, complementary views of Gn Inerie & Wolo Deru). Sunset from Puncak Manulalu (well… Heaven’s door Bar & Restaurant) D22 : Second day in Bajawa : Kampung Adat Ngio (hardly visited, best view on Gn Inerie), Air Panas Malanage, Kampung Adat Bena (the most visited Ngada village (after Bela ?) in the area, we went there at the end of the afternoon to avoid tours, early morning would be fine too), and Gunung Wolobobo for a terrific sunset D23 : returned to Gunung Wolobobo for sunrise with Gn Ebulobo in the distance (search for a track on the eastern slope, near the communication antenna). You can circuit the rim to the usual viewpoint (westside, sunset spot), the path is easy to find. Then took again the road to Aimere, visiting Kampung Adat Belaraghi enroute (the setting is maybe less rewarding than all the previous villages). 56km ; 1h30. The road to Belaraghi is fine, except the final part. D24 : Aimere – Ruteng (105km, 3h30). Nice detour by the paddy fields of Wodo (southwest of Golo Loni) of Sunset from Golo Curu (nice encounters with locals). Night @Tange GH, 130k for room with outside (private) bathroom, no breakfast. D25 : Surroundings of Ruteng (paddy fields north and east of ruteng ; Maps.me has funny tracks starting from Kenda), and the rather pleasant city itself (pasar, churches, lapangan). We finally skipped Liang Bua. D26 : Ruteng - Labuan Bajo (130km, 3h30). No visits of the waterfalls close to the TransFlores (entry fee (with bule prices) + mandatory guide etc…). Sunset from Bukit Hercadi with very few locals (Bukit Sylvia & Bukit Amelia, just south, were packed). 2 nights @Wellamas Homestay, away from the harbour and its advantages/disadvantages. 230k for comfortable AC room with hot shower. D27 : New road to Golo Mori Convention Center (another big money well spent…), with nice views on the strait separating Flores from Pulau Rinca. Some empty beaches (e.g. Pantai Pasir Pajang ; we were there on a weekday perhaps frequented by people from LBajo only). 30km (40 mins) one way, perhaps the fastest road of Flores… D28 : Morning on the peninsula north of Labuan Bajo before taking a flight to Jakarta in the afternoon. On Google maps, the asphalt road only goes to Teras Langit ; it now (august 2026) continues to Puncak Basok and is still in progress towards the eastern part of the peninsula. On the way back, two other nice Bukit where you can enjoy nice views on the bay (and the resorts…) : Bukit Lontar & Bukit Beta. Note : we only found one public (and nice and quiet) beach in the area ; tagged as Sunset Point Beach on Gmaps. All the rest was closed by fences ; they are privately owned (although the Indonesian consitution grants the coastline as public space).
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Tiberivs 3 days ago
Japan with the family
We're a family of five: one dad, one mom, and three kids aged 10, 15, and 18.

Before diving into each stop in more detail, here are a few general thoughts:

We wanted to sample a bit of everything Japan has to offer in terms of landscapes, accommodation, and transport. We were after walks, temples, restaurants, shopping, and some downtime—but no "all-inclusive experiences" or museums for this first visit.

Three medium-sized (60x42x25) canvas suitcases, plus a duffel bag and a few small backpacks. 23 kg in the hold on the way out, 60 kg on the way back. 36 kg of shopping, without even trying. I think this is the maximum suitcase size if you don’t want to stress on the Shinkansen: they fit easily in the overhead racks.

Round-trip with Cathay Pacific, layover in Hong Kong: no need to collect luggage in Hong Kong—we checked it in at departure and picked it up in Tokyo, and the same on the way back (checked in Osaka, picked up at our final destination). This let us explore Hong Kong without worrying about our bags. Food and entertainment were pretty good—meals included a little Häagen-Dazs on each flight, and the entertainment had way more Asian cinema than you’d find on a Western airline, which was a nice way to see how much weight Western culture carries in Asia.

Initial itinerary: Tokyo (3 nights) Hakone (2 nights) Takayama (1 night) Kanazawa (2 nights) Kyoto (4 nights) Osaka (1 night) Ishigaki (3 nights)

The original plan was to fly directly from Ishigaki to Hong Kong, but due to Typhoon Dolphin, we had to cancel the Ishigaki leg. Cathay didn’t bat an eye about swapping the Ishigaki-HK flight for an Osaka-HK one, even though it was twice as long. We were a bit too attached to the idea of ending the trip with some beach time and replaced Ishigaki with Shirahama. It was a mistake—we should’ve visited Hiroshima or spent a little more time in Tokyo instead.
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Olive842 3 days ago · Partirester
From Avignon to Casamance Without Flying
Hi there,

Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.

It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected. Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel. I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability. So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.

I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:

Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras

Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya

Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat

Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott

Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou

To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog: From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations

Happy reading, and safe travels!
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Nathalie971 3 days ago
From Southern Shikoku, between land and sea, to the blue waters of Miyakojima and finally the Tokyo metropolis
From Southern Shikoku, between land and sea, to the blue waters of Miyakojima and finally Tokyo’s megacity

Hi everyone,

I have to admit, I really hesitated before deciding to write this travel journal... Writing one takes a lot of time and energy, and since this is my 4th trip, I wondered if it would even interest anyone other than myself (both for the discovery and the writing). But after a few people asked, "Are you going to write a journal?" and especially after rediscovering the joy of reading other travelers’ journals about Japan or elsewhere on this forum, I’ve decided to share my 4th installment in the Land of the Rising Sun here.

The itinerary: 27 full days, from late May to late June 2025, right in the middle of the rainy season, including:

-->13 days in Shikoku, from Kochi (Kochi Prefecture) to Matsuyama (Ehime Prefecture)



-->7 days in Miyakojima (Okinawa Prefecture)



-->7 days in Tokyo



The trip was decided on fairly last-minute again this year.

Since I regularly check flight prices to track fluctuations for this destination even without concrete plans, stumbling upon a slightly cheaper direct flight (900 €) than what I’d seen in previous months (around 1,200–1,400 € on average) for a Paris-Tokyo route with Japanese airline ANA was too tempting to resist the urge to return to this enchanting country. After much hesitation between exploring the San’in region (Matsue, Tottori, Yamaguchi) and Southern Shikoku, the decision was made—I took the plunge! The ticket is booked: Paris to Kochi with a layover in Tokyo, all with ANA, the airline I’d been dreaming of... for 1,120 € per person. Okay, it’s not cheap, but it’s better than in 2023.

Departure in 2 weeks! Now I just have to get everything ready!

Intense prep work over these next 2 weeks to:

finalize a more precise itinerary and reach an agreement—yep, because even though we both love Japan, our preferences differ slightly, and we have to choose between exploring new places or revisiting beloved spots... decide how much time to spend in each area without rushing while still exploring research places that might interest us and watch videos about Japan book accommodations: yes, it’s possible to do this on the spot, but last year, we realized that last-minute options were pretty expensive, so we’re booking ahead—though we’ll keep a few options open in case better deals pop up later reserve rental cars order yen check the weather regularly and wonder if choosing the *tsuyu* (rainy season) was really a good idea—are we going to be drenched the whole time???

"What hard work," you might say! Going to Japan for a month—what a tough life! Despite this being my 4th trip, the excitement is just as intense as the first time.

The only small downside is that when we booked the flight, there weren’t many seats left, so we’re only sitting together on the international return flight. Plus, on the way there, we have middle seats. Another lingering question: what French-language films will be available? According to the internet, the selection seems limited. Oh well, these are just minor details—it’s already time to fly! PS: I’ll be posting slowly and irregularly... so for those interested, be patient, and maybe set an alert...
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Yadin 3 days ago
Getting Away to Ireland
Hello and welcome aboard this new travel journal! We’re heading off to Ireland together—a country I’ve wanted to explore for a very long time.



The moment has finally arrived. We’ll be traveling as a family—my wife, my husband, and our 7-year-old daughter.

Here’s our itinerary:

24/07: Flight from Marseille to Dublin, overnight in Dublin 25/07: Dublin, overnight in Dublin 26/07: Dublin, overnight in Dublin 27/07: Pick up rental car, drive to Dingle, overnight near Tralee on the peninsula 28/07: Visit the Ring of Kerry 29/07: Adare, Bunratty Castle, Galway, overnight in Outheragh, near Galway 30/07: Cliffs of Moher, overnight in Outheragh 31/07: Connemara, overnight in Outheragh 01/08: Drive to Sligo via Westport and Downpatrick Head, overnight in Sligo 02/08: Slieve League, Silver Strand Beach, Glencolmcille, overnight in Sligo 03/08: Drive to Derry via Glenveagh National Park, overnight in Derry 04/08: Giant’s Causeway, Dunluce Castle, Portrush, Derry, overnight in Derry 05/08: Drive to Belfast, visit Belfast, overnight in Lisburn (Belfast suburbs) 06/08: Game of Thrones filming locations: Dark Hedges, Carrick-a-Rede, Ballintoy, etc., overnight in Lisburn 07/08: Drive to the Wicklow Mountains, visit Wicklow Mountains National Park, overnight in Blessington 08/08: Drive back to Dublin and return to Marseille.

Cost breakdown:

Flights:

Outbound flights with KLM via Amsterdam for 3: 175 € + 40,000 Flying Blue miles (so essentially a free ticket) Return flight with Aer Lingus for 3: 489 €



Rental car:

10 days booked with Enterprise via Carigami: 443 € including zero-excess insurance.



Accommodation:

Dublin: 3 nights at Maldron Hotel New Cross: 394 € Tralee: 2 nights in a caravan (Ocean Trail Oasis): 292 € Outheragh: 3 nights Airbnb, family room with private bathroom: 430 € Sligo: 2 nights at Clayton Hotel: 456 € Derry: 2 nights at Belfray Inn: 255 € Lisburn: 2 nights at Temple Golf Club: 232 € Blessington: 1 night at Baltyboys Lodges B&B: 158 €



That brings our total to 3,325 € for three.

On the ground, visits, fuel, and food cost around 2,500 €. So this was quite an expensive trip. A few price examples: 1 liter of unleaded fuel: 1.89 € 3-day pass in Dublin: 18 € 1 scoop of ice cream: 5 to 6.5 € Castle visit: 15 € per person A coffee: 3-4 € A glass of wine at a restaurant: 8-10 € A half-pint of Guinness: 7-12 €



Now, here’s the day-by-day account of our adventure in Ireland:
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Bibouns51 3 days ago
Off on an adventure in Sri Lanka
Day 1 – December 6

Our decision is our decision. And it’s firm and final. Next winter, our plane will spread its great wings toward the island of Ceylon! "Wait a minute... Ceylon... Ceylon... that name rings a bell, but I can’t quite place it on the globe Grandma gave me for Christmas! Ceylon... Oh right, I’ve got it: Ceylon is the name of my tea!" Exactly. But the name on your pretty tea box is also the one used until 1972 for this island nation, a speck on the Indian Ocean at the southern tip of the Indian subcontinent: Sri Lanka!

For this new adventure, I’m exceptionally leaving my Flo behind, cowardly replaced by a double dose of testosterone. To write the book of this journey with me, I’m bringing along my brother, who’s used to this kind of thing, and... a guest star: My model of resilience. My dad! All aboard! Or rather, all aboard our tuk-tuk! Yes, you read that right: A real tuk-tuk, a little colorful rolling box that putters along at two miles an hour. The idea? Well, Sri Lanka and its winding roads overlooking the vastness of lush nature are tailor-made for this kind of vehicle. And since it’s one of only two countries in the world that allow foreigners to rent and drive these mini speedsters, we’ll be crisscrossing the island in our two-square-meter rolling box. Plus, adopting this mode of transport is a surefire way to connect directly with the locals, who’ll surely be curious to see a foreigner driving their iconic vehicle. Not to mention the... let’s say... spicy anecdotes it might generate. I mean, heading into a subtropical zone with my jet-black dad and his unpredictable digestive flora while deliberately choosing the tuk-tuk as our *only* means of transport? That’s the winning combo for an unforgettable adventure! "More seriously, Dad, Sullivan, I’m already loving the idea of living this adventure together, the three of us—brothers and father..."

So, does the intro to this new adventure get your salivary glands going? Yes? Too bad. Because unfortunately, the program handed out by the lady at the entrance has been slightly... let’s say *crumpled*. Some might even say "scrunched up and nearly tossed in the trash." First, six days ago, as the countdown echoed in us like a call to adventure, Cyclone Ditwah grabbed Sri Lanka, played with it like a rag doll, and left it battered on the ground. The toll is devastating: over a thousand dead, thousands of homes wiped out by relentless rains, roads and railways swallowed by massive mudslides. A country wounded once again, after the civil war, the 2004 tsunami, and the post-Covid economic crisis.

But as if this weather disaster wasn’t enough to shake our unbreakable adventurer spirit, fate decided to mess with us further by cutting our trio down to two. The victim? My brother, violently turned away because of a simple date on his passport that didn’t match the border officials’ expectations. Return to sender!

So now it’s just the two of us allowed to board the Qatar Airways Airbus A380 for this trip. If he were here, Denis Brognart would say, "And in the end, only one remains!" Except I know you’ll be with us, following our adventures! Right?
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Attila 4 days ago
Breathtaking Kyrgyzstan!
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 rental options kept making me postpone the project.

And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!

The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.

A bit of Kazakhstan? Not in the end.

The south or not the south? Yes, in the end.

Pre-book or go with the flow? 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 about 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! (Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)



You’ll find here a post with some practical information.

And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.

---/---

As a supplement, the route track. Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...

From Bishkek to Karakol:



From Karakol to Kochkor:



From Kochkor to Baetov:



From Baetov to Kara-Köl:



From Kara-Köl to Bishkek:



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Yadin 4 days ago
On the Roads of Costa Rica
Hello everyone, I’m happy to welcome you to this new travel journal. We’re heading to Costa Rica together—a Central American destination that dreams are made of for many French travelers and attracts crowds from France.



It was the country’s wild nature and safety that convinced us to go, since we’re traveling with our 7-year-old little one. We didn’t have much vacation time in February 2026 (only 12 days), so we optimized as much as possible.



Here’s the itinerary: Wednesday, February 11: Flight from Marseille to San Jose via Paris and Atlanta Thursday, February 12: Pick up the car, drive to Poas Volcano, visit La Paz Waterfall Gardens Friday, February 13: Poas Volcano and drive to Manuel Antonio Saturday, February 14: Manuel Antonio National Park Sunday, February 15: Nauyaca Waterfall and Playa Linda Monday, February 16: Drive to Monte Verde and Santa Elena Reserve Tuesday, February 17: El Tigre Waterfall Reserve and Treetopia Park Wednesday, February 18: Monte Verde Reserve with a guide and drive to La Fortuna Thursday, February 19: Sloth guided tour, Observatory Lodge Park Friday, February 20: Arenal Volcano National Park, Termalistas del Arenal hot springs, and night tour Saturday, February 21: Return to San Jose, flight to Paris via Atlanta Sunday, February 22: Arrival in Paris and flight to Marseille. That gives us a solid 9 days in the country.



Budget breakdown: Costa Rica is an expensive country, but no more so than France. However, almost all hikes and waterfalls are paid entry, which can really add up. For meals, sodas (6–10 €) are cheaper than restaurants (10–20 € per dish).



Flights: We chose Delta Airlines for the price: Marseille to San Jose was 740 € per person (modifiable, with checked baggage and seat selection included). Other direct flights from Europe were priced between 1200 € and 1600 € with more restrictive conditions. That’s 2220 € for the family.



Accommodations: Alajuela, first night: 139 € (1 night) at Rodeo Estancia Boutique Hotel, with personalized airport pickup, transfer to the hotel, and a briefing from Vert Costa Rica agency the next day. Poas: 66 € (1 night) at Cabañas Tierra Fértil (entire apartment). Manuel Antonio: 394 € (3 nights) at La Palapa Ecolodge (hotel in the jungle). Monte Verde: Chalet Aloha Monteverde Cloud Forest (2 bedrooms): 125 € (2 nights). La Fortuna: Arenal Dream Garden (1 bedroom): 217 € (3 nights). Total: 941 €.



Car rental: I went through Vert Costa Rica agency (Vincent is a French expat who set up the agency in Costa Rica and makes great YouTube videos with useful tips). I rented a 4x4 that was delivered to the hotel the day after arrival and returned at the airport before the flight. The total was 772 €, including full insurance (zero deductible), a child seat, and a phone with a Costa Rican SIM and WhatsApp. The rental company was Poas Rent a Car. The vehicle was well-maintained—no complaints. Gas: 100 € for the whole trip (3 fill-ups).



Activities: To get discounts, I bought the pass offered by Vincent, which paid for itself after just one activity. It cost me 30 € (promo since I rented the car through him). Prices are for 3 people. I’ve added stars to rate them: La Paz Waterfall Gardens ****: 112 € Poas Volcano National Park *: 33 € Manuel Antonio National Park ****: 35 € Nauyaca Waterfall ***: 25 € Santa Elena Reserve **: 45 € El Tigre Waterfall Reserve ****: 141 € (with meal) Treetopia (ziplining, suspension bridges) **: 250 € Guided tour of Monte Verde Reserve ***: 113 € Sloth guided tour (with breakfast) ***: 115 € Arenal Observatory Lodge (with meal) ****: 102 € Arenal Volcano National Park *: 34 € Termalistas del Arenal ****: 20 € Night tour ***: 116 € Total: 1171 €.



Meals: 600 € My favorite restaurants: Poas: Food court Mercaditas in Fraijanes Manuel Antonio (near La Palapa): La Langosta and also El Patio Near Nauyaca Waterfall: Ricar2 el Avión Between Manuel Antonio and Monte Verde: Soda D’Calle Santa Elena: HG’s Food Guadalupe (between Monte Verde and La Fortuna): Soda Río Piedras Arenal Observatory Lodge restaurant Arenal Oasis Ecolodge restaurant



Other expenses: 300 € (groceries for breakfast, drinks, ice cream, souvenirs, etc.) Total overall: 6065 € (about 2020 € per person).

Now, here’s the day-by-day account of this beautiful trip.

https://voyageforum.com/images/posts/small/1772295011-z8mILBEUXHU8Ajz.jpg
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Danouck 4 days ago · Jeeaan
Beautiful stops and sites discovered in Morocco in March
In early March, full of carefree joy and happy to return to Morocco, we landed in Marrakech under the sun. We spent just one night in Marrakech at the Hôtel Toulousain, as we did on our previous trip. And we booked our 3 nights for the end of our trip, the second half of March... Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! But we’re not there yet...

Our first goal is to reach Magdaz, a mountain village in the Tessaout Valley, sometimes called the lost valley. We discovered the village of Magdaz on this forum, and we were charmed by the photos and comments from travelers who came before us. The road is easy—it’s dry, and the tarmac takes us right to the village gates at over 2,000 meters above sea level. We arrive in the afternoon and are left speechless by the beauty of the place. A jewel of Berber architecture! Perfectly restored granaries and kasbahs!



A young man from the village guides us on the visit and opens the doors to the terraces overlooking the village.

Several magnificent collective granaries have been beautifully restored. The warm colors of the stone capture the light wonderfully. It’s stunning!



We won’t find anything decent to stay overnight there, so we head back down a bit and settle in at the Assounfou guesthouse. Lovely welcome. The place is in excellent condition and very clean. It’s spacious, but we’re the only ones there. First day full of promise!
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Jojoone1 4 days ago
All Over Thailand
You can post your personal photos in the following thread: https://voyageforum.com/forum/quelque-part-en-thailande-d10655574/

This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style. All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.

All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert. However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.

I guess I wanted to deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about it. I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.

There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.



I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guardians for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.

Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course. Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious. Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs. It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons. That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though? Much rarer—they’re too big.

It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been full of holes for years.

You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.

Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field. A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.

Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and enormous beast with its own garden. Yet it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.

You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water there for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.

If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not just for fun—these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
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Larri 5 days ago
Trip report: Coron and Palawan in the Philippines
Hi everyone, We (two adults, 74 and 70 years old) had already shared a travel journal about our first trip to the Philippines in February/March 2019 on this forum (https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=9377175;search_string=carnet%20philippines). We had visited Manila, the Banaue rice terraces, Sagada, the Visayas (Bohol, Siquijor, Dumaguette), and on our way back to Luzon, the Taal volcano before returning to France. Delighted by this trip, organized by the French-speaking agency Alizé, we decided to further explore this beautiful country, this time focusing on Coron and Palawan. Before writing this journal, I should mention that these are personal comments and don’t reflect any differing opinions. Without any literary or photographic talent, I’ll stick to the facts and share a few details about the visits, hotels, and restaurants.

Preparations

We decided to return in mid-January 2025 and consulted three French-speaking tour operators to create a trip based on our wishes (places to visit, type of accommodation) and budget. Comparing three operators helped us weigh their advice and make our choices. Only our first operator respected the budget, a second came close, and the third proposed a slightly more upscale trip. In the end, we chose the agency from our first trip. Our discussions helped refine our itinerary, and when we reviewed it point by point, the document provided was perfect, full of great tips. The most debated point was a 3-day, 2-night cruise between Coron and Palawan. We were tempted but worried about being the only "older" travelers among younger people and feared two uncomfortable nights. Reassured by our tour operator, we finally opted for this "exploration." We’ll come back to that later. Once the choice was made and dates set, we booked our international flights with Cathay Pacific for 750 € per person, which offers the best schedules (short layovers) at an acceptable price for flights arriving in Cebu. Our trip started on February 25 and returned to Paris on March 15.

International flights

The round-trip flights went smoothly. Cathay does the job well, without frills. The service quality seems to have slightly declined compared to our previous trips with them. Hong Kong Airport is huge but very practical. Note that not all airlines serve Cebu. Recommendation: Fill out your Philippine entry form within 72 hours before your flight. This can prevent issues with the airline (possible boarding refusal) and saves a lot of time upon arrival (see the Philippine embassy website).

Domestic flights

For our two domestic flights—Cebu to Coron and Puerto Princesa to Cebu—our tour operator chose Philippine Airlines and their propeller planes. No problems there.

Day 1: We landed around 12 PM (local time) after 17 hours of travel. A driver was waiting for us at the airport exit and took us to our hotel, intentionally chosen near the airport (Mandaue, about 10 minutes away) to help us recover and get a good night’s sleep before our early morning domestic flight the next day. The Mayoo Hotel, reasonably priced, was perfect for this. Large, beautiful room in a new building—clean, comfortable, with a spa. We could relax by the pool on the 16th floor and enjoy the city view. The breakfast was exceptional, and the staff was smiling, attentive, and helpful. An ATM in the lobby allowed for withdrawals. However, the hotel is in a neighborhood with nothing to see or do. We dined at the Korean restaurant K-GOGI across from the hotel—a real attraction and a great discovery.

Day 2: After a restful night, we were driven to the airport around 6:30 AM for an 8:10 AM flight from Cebu to Busuanga (Coron).



The flight was uneventful. Upon arrival, we paid 200 pesos per person for the Coron tourist fee before a 40-minute transfer to our hotel: Natura Resort, located outside the city in a secluded spot. The setting is stunning—a beautifully maintained tropical garden, a pleasant pool, and the option to book massages. The cottages are tropical-style with thatched roofs, simple and unpretentious.



The owner, who speaks French, told us that given the heat and our ages, climbing the 721 steps to the top of Mount Tapyas wasn’t necessary. She gave us a few rooftop recommendations to watch the sunset over Coron Bay. After a good swim in the pool and a meal at the resort’s pleasant restaurant, we hired a tricycle to go into town. We were told it costs 150 pesos one way, and depending on the return time, it could exceed 250 pesos. But our driver gave us his WhatsApp number and charged the same price regardless of the time. He just earned two days’ worth of customers. He dropped us off at the port where bangkas (local boats) gather for day trips. It was the end of the day, so there was a rush. A few shops around the port sold waterproof bags for marine excursions at reasonable prices (compared to back home), after some bargaining. We wandered the town’s alleys looking for the Top Hotel, whose rooftop is famous. Indeed, it’s perfectly located to admire the sunset and enjoy a refreshing drink.







We dined nearby at a small Chinese restaurant, then just had to call our driver to head back. The night wasn’t entirely restful—our hotel had a soundtrack of all the countryside animals, and it seemed they had no set bedtime! :
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Montagnard74 last week · Holigirl
Turkey 2026: Riviera, Antalya, and Cappadocia
Hi everyone!

If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!

Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with: Zero preparation. Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.

Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?

The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!

The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.

So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!

So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!

A little sneak peek?
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Attila last week · Pagaljavab
Storm in the Canary Islands
15 days across Gran Canaria, El Hierro, and a dash of Tenerife under the storm Thérèse!

The planned itinerary will be slightly disrupted...

(The version without discussions is here)
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Zigomar67 last week · Holigirl
Argentine and Chilean Patagonia from El Calafate to Ushuaia
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...
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Pepita65 last week · Frédérique85
I dreamed of it, we did it
Hi everyone, Way back when, before the internet and all that, there were Larousse encyclopedias, and in the proper names section, I came across a photo of Samarkand. Just the name made me dream. I kept it in the back of my mind for later, and last winter, I revisited the idea. Within a few weeks, I managed to plan our 16-day getaway. Oh, I didn’t do it all by myself—I used a travel agency to handle the flights, accommodations, transportation, and local guide. It was a custom trip for three people, tailored to what we wanted to do, what we wanted to see, within the time we’d chosen, at our own pace.

The main goal of the trip was to visit the three iconic cities of architectural art in Uzbekistan (just for the sheer beauty of it) and, very secondarily, to take a break with a short hike.

We left in early May, flying from Toulouse to Istanbul, then to Tashkent: - One day in Tashkent, 2 nights, - By car (6 hours) to the Fergana region: Margilan (silk and pottery), 2 nights, with a guide, - Back to Tashkent, then a flight to Khiva, 2 nights, 1 day with a guide, 1 day on our own, - Train to Bukhara (6 hours, sleeper cars), 3 nights, 1 day with a guide, 1 day on our own, - Train to Samarkand, 2 nights, 1 day with a guide, - By car to Tersak, 1 night with a local family, short hike, same guide, - By car to Shakhrisabz (Tamerlane’s hometown), then back to Samarkand, - Samarkand, 2 more nights, - Train back to Tashkent, final night, and return home.

What I took away from this Silk Road trip: - A completely safe country in May—don’t go later because of the heat, - The warm welcome and easy connection with Uzbeks, a multicultural people, - A constant puzzle with currency exchange (how much is that in euros? ) 1 € = 14,000 sums, - Logistics handled by a local agency—top-notch, - Delicious meals at a very reasonable price, - Total awe in Khiva and Samarkand (palaces, mausoleums, mosques, madrasas), - The length of the trip, which let us wander and take our time.

A few photos, but not too many—I don’t want to spoil the joy of discovery!
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Muriel18 2 weeks ago · Partirester
A few days in Lesotho and Zambia: the (difficult) return
After a first trip to South Africa in 2009 that enchanted us, we decided to return to this part of the world this year.

Given how much I enjoy reading others' travel journals, I'm mustering up the courage to try my hand at this kind of exercise (which I'm not used to at all 😕). Thanks, of course, to everyone who answered my questions and helped finalize this trip...

So, it's decided—it'll be Southern Africa... but where, with only two weeks of vacation? Victoria Falls, which we had to cancel in 2009 due to turbulent Zimbabwean elections, was automatically back on the itinerary (yes, I know some say "the falls, meh," but I wanted to see them 😛!). We added South Luangwa and ultimately swapped Chobe and Hwange for Lesotho. We have no experience driving a 4x4, which limited our routes in both countries, especially since it's not yet the dry season... but that didn’t stop us from bringing back amazing memories.

Sunday, April 14: After a smooth flight (and even quite comfortable in BA’s brand-new 747), we land early in the morning in Johannesburg. We pick up the car (a little Micra) and off we go toward Clarens, our first stop. We get back into the swing of driving (moving over to the right—sorry, to the left—to let others pass, flashing lights, hazard signals, "thank you," "you’re welcome"...).

I was expecting a small town, but Clarens looks more like a village: a large grassy square,

a few cars,



and dirt roads as soon as you leave the main street.



Still, we found the same quality of South African B&Bs here. We stayed at Patcham Place (the little white speck in the photo above is our Micra!).



We end the afternoon with a walk around Clarens and its surroundings. No doubt about it—it’s autumn...

Monday, April 15: We set off for Lesotho on nearly deserted roads, heading toward Malealea.



We quickly cross the border at Caledon Poort, and the atmosphere changes: more people on the roadside, animals, scattered huts... and lots of traffic police! We still managed to get stopped four times! Mostly, after checking our driver’s license, it was just to chat for ten minutes or so (police aren’t like that back home!). Well, one officer wanted to fine us for not waiting for him to wave us through after I stopped at a stop sign. After some tough negotiations, he let us go 😇.

We leave the main road and find ourselves in wilder landscapes.



The road narrows until it becomes a dirt track. A short climb to the gates of paradise:

... and then it’s just a matter of descending toward Malealea.

Malealea is like a village within a village. You’ll find different types of accommodations, a canteen-style restaurant (no menu choices, but the food is great, and it’s a fun way to chat with others around big tables), and lots of activities offered in partnership with the locals. We’re shown different rondavels to choose from... we pick this one:



Simple but clean and functional, with a private bathroom. On the bed, "real" Basotho blankets.

We decided to stay two nights to have a full day there.

Tuesday, April 16: We opted for a four-hour pony trek to the waterfall—nothing difficult, everything is done at a walking pace, with just a few "slightly" steep climbs and descents where you have to trust the Basotho ponies (no worries, they’re sure-footed 😏). The landscapes are truly stunning:





We walk down to the waterfall (which isn’t anything special—it’s the trek itself that’s worth it) and take the return path...



... crossing through Malealea village again.



We spend the rest of the day exploring the area, reading in the sun, and sipping marula coffee on the bar terrace. We really loved the family atmosphere in Malealea and how the locals were involved in the activities.

Wednesday, April 17: We hit the road again toward Katse. The owner of Malealea advised us against taking our car through Theba Tseka (I know Chris did it last year around the same time, but since we’re not very adventurous, we’ll go back through Maseru and Leribe—oh well, we’ll just take the same route back from Katse).

Quick aside unrelated to the story: putting together a travel journal is taking even longer than I thought 🤪... so, the rest will come a little later...
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Kola 2 weeks ago · Partirester
Desert Crossings... (Morocco)
The story of a trip to Morocco, from the first to the last day—otherwise, it wouldn’t have made sense... Marrakech... then four days on foot in the desert, alone with a guide, a camel driver, and two dromedaries... and Marrakech again. Everything mattered, even the smallest details, so this is a (very) long story. Behind the descriptions and anecdotes, there’s emotion, intimacy, and... soul-searching. All the things it’s strangely easier to share this way, all the things it’s strangely easier to share with people you don’t know... I have beautiful images in my eyes, but only a few are visible—if you read carefully, you’ll understand why. The other photos are imagined, created upon returning with souvenirs and a bit of staging. But everything is authentic.



Since I’ve been back, sometimes at night I open my eyes and don’t know where I am... Sleepless night, starry night, night of communion, connected night... In that suspended moment, between wakefulness and sleep, which makes you so receptive... Communion with whom? Connected to what? Lila gnawa... lila de derdeba.

The desert, a solitary path. You step in, and you’re immediately in the essential...

Wednesday... My companion drops me off at Orly Ouest... There are two hours before boarding. My MP3 player turns on but that’s it. It freezes—no commands work, and nothing fixes it... Smile... A trip without music, then? And the first anchor falls away.

(Photo...) ... Passport, tickets, receipts, labels...

Nose pressed to the window for the entire flight... Descending over Marrakech, at low altitude, a pretty mosaic—shades of pink and ochre dotted with green, but also, to the right, less harmonious, aligned cubes. Housing developments under construction? A bumpy, turbulent landing—the plane circles for a long time before touching down.

Welcomed by the familiar, unchanged sound of creaking doors and seats in the little taxis. In Casablanca, it was red Simca 1000s with meters; here, they’re yellow, and you have to negotiate the price. I have no talent for that, so here’s 100 DH!

Traversed and forgotten

Marrakech... Sunny, luminous, sensual. Torn between tradition and modernity... Shimmering and fragrant, very noisy... rather polluted? On the road, horses and donkeys still mingle with vehicles... and watch out for traffic when crossing! It’s always a strategic—and athletic—adventure: at what exact moment do you sprint to the opposite sidewalk? And why aren’t any street names marked?

Afternoon on foot, heading to the Bab Doukkala bus station... A landmark: the McDonald’s, then a square with a fountain. Then turn left onto Avenue Hassan II. There’s a bus to Zagora Friday morning, but I can only buy the ticket tomorrow. On the way back to the hotel, at a kiosk on the corner, I buy *Tel Quel*, which I read with great interest online.

Thursday... Early morning, walking to Place Jemaa el-Fna, calm and almost deserted... I don’t get a good deal buying two small daggers for my kids. No talent for haggling—it takes more than charm for that... So I’ll pick the rest of my gifts at the artisan center on Avenue Mohammed V, where prices are marked, and it’s a pleasure to watch the craftsmen work... For my daughter, a satchel and earrings. The satchel smells like goat. The earrings are hand-chiseled in front of me by a very young man with nimble fingers—marvels of delicacy and fragility. Then I linger for a long time in the souk alleys. Scents of leather, thuya and cedar wood, wool and copper... Familiar smells... Childhood memories...

Dear daggers

Earrings

Back at the bus station, an unexpected change: no bus Friday morning, but a departure tonight at 8:30 PM... I have a little time before packing, so I take a long detour: Boulevard de Safi, then right onto Avenue El Mansour to the Majorelle Garden... A quiet pause. Rare plants, all kinds of cacti—smooth, fuzzy, bristling with spines... strange, squat, or stretched-out shapes. An infinite variety of greens, and that famous blue... The song of birds, the sun and shadows playing in the water basins... Time flows lazily. I write postcards—they’ll arrive long after I’m back...



Back to the hotel. Avenue El Mansour, Boulevard Zerktouni—okay, but why are the small street names never marked?!! I get a little lost...

I hope you got my MMS, because before leaving, I left something for you at the front desk...

8 PM, night has already fallen. Arriving at the bus station, and then... Then, a step back... A dense crowd, a tangle of buses... Where to go?... Rare woman, lone foreigner, backpack... I’m quickly spotted, surrounded, poorly guided... Someone with a badge finally points me to the right sidewalk. The bus isn’t there, and the sidewalk is already packed, mostly with men. Will I even get a seat?... Three young men are particularly insistent... They want to know where I’m going and why, if someone is with me, if I’m expected... I answer with a smile. A bit tricky—choosing words, staying polite while evasive... Their French is hesitant, my Arabic is more than rudimentary... Actually, I shouldn’t have tried... Their tone becomes a bit... aggressive, and their eyes light up. Uh-oh... They say they’re students, but what of?... Want to know what I think of the Quran and Allah, what I think of holy war, if I’m "for the Americans," "for the Palestinians"... Other travelers intervene... And the bus still isn’t here... The speech turns fanatical... Then, my smile freezes a little... A small wave of panic, so I send a "freaked out" MMS... (But who else could I send it to?) Then, in this dark crowd, a light dressed in white... Nabila, a young student heading to Zagora for vacation, she speaks French... She plants herself in front of them and scolds them thoroughly. I didn’t catch everything, but it worked! The three troublemakers retreat. Plus, they weren’t on the right sidewalk, and their bus is about to leave without them...

Nabila and I manage to board and sit side by side... The bus leaves two hours late. The trip is long, a bit uncomfortable, slowed by many stops—it was very cold...

Friday... A little stiff, a little dazzled, a little chilled, arriving in Zagora at dawn with the sunrise... Magical! Craving something warm... And then, a heartfelt gift—kindness and hospitality—Nabila invites me to her home. Warm welcome from her mother and siblings, not at all surprised to see me show up so early to share their breakfast! A few hours in their company... We exchange addresses, and the youngest brother, Nouamare, gives me a children’s storybook...

Noon, at *La Fibule du Draa* Lahcen Sarti, the owner... I finally put a smile and a face to an email exchange... He shows me the trek route on the map, laughs when I tell him about my night on the bus, and sends me to rest by the pool... No swimsuit, so a lounge chair and a book... A book that will accompany me into the desert and which I’ll finish in Marrakech, in the Koutoubia Garden...



Saturday, Day 1... When I wake up this morning, I know the desert sand will also absorb my blood...

Early departure for four days and three nights, alone, as I wished, with a young guide, Mohammed, and a younger camel driver, Abdou. We’ll be together 24/7, and we won’t see a soul until we reach the fixed campsite on the third evening. Everything we need is loaded onto two dromedaries. And in those baskets, there are miracles—a *Prévert*-style inventory I’ll discover bit by bit, like... a tray for glasses, a basket for bread, a sugar loaf and small glasses for tea, but... large glasses and sugar cubes for coffee, spices, oranges, vegetables, raw eggs!... That won’t break, *La Vache qui Rit*... And so many other unexpected wonders, so surprising in the middle of the desert... (*La Vache qui Rit* is the desert butter. Every morning for breakfast, it was coffee with Nido powdered milk and *kesra* with *La Vache qui Rit* and Aïcha apricot jam... A delight.)



Start of the journey, and the beginning of a long, long walk... We’ll cover 80 km in three days, crossing all kinds of landscapes until the real desert of sand and dunes... I’ll drink water from wells, eat raw vegetables, sleep on a mattress that saddles the dromedaries by day... I’ll forget all the warnings and all my hygiene references... My body will quiet its complaints. No heat, no thirst, no fatigue, no trouble of any kind... just woken by the cold every morning around 6 AM... I take off my watch. Like my companions, I’ll live by the sun’s rhythm...

Abdou leads the dromedaries, so he walks at their pace. Sometimes, we’re grouped together. Sometimes the two guides are together, and I walk behind. Sometimes we talk. Nothing is forced, no discomfort. It’s a simple, harmonious dance—one foot in front of the other, following your shadow as it turns with the sun... Each step leaves behind the useless, the cumbersome, the superfluous... Room for intimacy... Room for silence... Room for the inner self... Facing yourself... I find seashells, and with my eyes closed, I smell the sea...

... One foot in front of the other...

I take out my camera... Capacity for a hundred shots, but it’ll be 10 photos, no more. It freezes—no commands work, and nothing fixes it... Smile... A trip without photos, then? And the second anchor falls... I think of my MP3 player...

... A few photos among the ten...

Noon... Unsaddling the dromedaries, which immediately wander off in search of food. And before the meal cooked by Mohammed, the mint tea ritual, prepared by Abdou in a tiny teapot... Thick, frothy, very sweet tea... He serves it on a tray with dates, peanuts, and raisins... And it’ll be like this every day, noon and night...

We gradually get to know each other... Mohammed, 25 years old... Calm, very introspective, almost ascetic, he knows the desert well and loves it... So at ease that he’ll walk in slippers or barefoot, no matter the terrain... When I’m behind him, the advertisement on the back of his sweatshirt makes me smile... There’s a date: January 8, 2003... A little wink from life? (I have a clear memory of that day.) Abdou, barely 20, with a round, jovial face. The mint tea master... When he hands me my glass, he says "Bismillah," and I respond in kind... A joker and a foodie. Thrilled that I only eat vegetables, he’ll have double the meat!

... Abdou and his teapot...

... Mohammed...

Late afternoon, a well... Abdou waters the dromedaries, and Mohammed fills the canteens. The caps aren’t watertight, so he wedges a piece of plastic bag found in one of the baskets and screws it on top... Forget all hygiene warnings...

First night in a tent at the foot of Jebel Baní...

... Jebel

Sunday, Day 2... Crossing and ascending Jebel Baní... A mineral, lunar landscape—rocks the color of burnt bread and anthracite gray. I pick up pretty pebbles, and Mohammed finds me a fossilized stone... Lunch in a deserted nomad oasis... When we resume our walk, the wind picks up. A wind that only blows in April, violent, terrible—the *Sahli*... Swirls of sand and gravel. Where’s the sky, where’s the earth... everything is dust, everything is yellow and opaque... The gusts are so strong they make us stagger. At times, we even have to crouch to avoid falling. In the acacia forest, Abdou and the dromedaries are only a few meters ahead, yet we can’t see them... We’ll later learn that on that day, planned excursions were canceled... That a group got lost and had to be picked up by 4x4... But Mohammed has a sense of the desert. He’s calm, he guides us... so we continue, and I trust him. He wraps a *chèche* around my head—a fragile barrier against these onslaughts... We have to keep moving, and it’s difficult... But the desert has accepted me, so without resistance, I accept it... And the sand gets everywhere... in my mouth, crunching between my teeth, in my eyes, ears, and nostrils... in my hair... A fine ochre layer covers my face and body, even under my clothes. I’ve become a sand woman... Communion... Fusion with the mineral. I absorb the desert’s prodigious power, just as the desert absorbs my blood...

We walked for four hours, pushed by this furious wind, before stopping for the night under an acacia... There, we had to set up the tent, which they did with difficulty. Then we had to weigh it down... So the utensils and the mint tea tray served as shovels to cover the edges with sand. Then Abdou took care of the dromedaries, holding one of their front legs bent with a rope to keep them from wandering too far... Then we brought everything into the tent and collapsed... but not for long.

Mohammed prepared kingly meals at noon and night with the wonders in the baskets: finely chopped raw vegetable salad, vegetable tagine, soup (and not from a packet!)... Even the canned sardines were garnished with thin orange slices... After this exhausting day for all of us, I told him that bread with *La Vache qui Rit* would be enough... He looked at me with a big smile and said his evening ritual phrase: "Now, Laurence, sit down, take your time, take your book..." He pulled his sand-filled utensils from the miraculous basket, his stove, some vegetables, and made us couscous (and not from a box!), couscous he rolled between his hands... Meanwhile, Abdou took out his sand-filled teapot, his sugar loaf, the peanuts, the dates... The mint tea ritual, like every day, noon and night...

Outside, the wind keeps blowing, stirring up sand whirlwinds... So I won’t go out like the other night to brush my teeth and hair. Just a wipe on my face to remove the dust... Mohammed turns off the gas lamp, and I curl up in my sleeping bag. The dromedaries have moved closer to my side of the tent, and the moonlight stretches their shadows on the canvas. They’ve settled in and make strange noises... We fall asleep very quickly...

Monday, Day 3... My two companions are still asleep when the cold wakes me at 6 AM, like every morning... Everything seems so calm—the wind has stopped... I untie the tent door and... A pure blue sky, gradually tinted with pink and flaming orange. The sun rises before my dazzled eyes. A day of light begins: no trace of yesterday’s storm, except sand... everywhere.

So, breakfast with sand... Then we shake out everything that can be shaken, sending clouds of dust flying... Then Abdou gives the dromedaries back their fourth leg, and we continue the journey.

After the expanses of stones and shrubs on the first day, the rocky ridges of Jebel Baní, and the acacia forest on the second day, the landscape changes, softens... We arrive in the desert as you imagine it, as you dream it, as you’ve seen in thousands of photos: endless golden dunes, in harmonious hollows and curves... The desert of sand... vast, fascinating...

Last meal for the three of us... Tonight, we’ll arrive at the fixed campsite, and we won’t be alone anymore. The break stretches on... So, a little apart on the smooth sand, I write a few words... an obvious truth... entrusting a secret to the desert. In a small box, I’ll bring back some of this magical sand...

.. A secret in the desert...

Abdou grabs my notebook and draws the dunes. Mohammed draws Abdou and his dromedaries... I learn to do dishes with the contents of a single glass of water... A tiny bird lands on my bag... A bird!... in the middle of nowhere!... The dromedaries seem to relish the acacia branches, thorns and all...

Desert drawings

We set off again... The dunes are higher... Easy to climb, the desert has sensual, feminine curves. A giant’s hand would fit its reliefs like a caress on a soft, supple body... The setting sun gives the landscape colors of amber and spices, cinnamon reflections... The sand offers me pink pebbles and pieces of white quartz that sparkle... I also find a black stone... Mystery...

Pink pebbles, fossilized pebbles, sparkling pebbles, and a black stone

Late afternoon, arrival at the fixed campsite at the foot of Erg Lihoudi... The guardian, Lahcen, a whirlwind of chatter and energy, welcomes us with mint tea. He quickly pegs me: "You do yoga, right?" He tells lots of anecdotes about his "clients," ending every sentence with: "No problem! *Machi mouchkil*... *Machi mouchkil*, no problem!" Around the tents, dozens... hundreds of big black beetles swarm on the sand... As I shudder, Lahcen gently picks one up and wants to put it on my hand: "*Machi mouchkil*! It doesn’t sting!"... I hold out a hesitant palm... Despite Lahcen’s infectious enthusiasm, I don’t like this last evening. Two groups arrived by 4x4 to spend a night in the desert... Noise of engines, cameras, voices, and exclamations... An intrusion into my bubble... I keep my distance... They’ll leave very early the next morning...

Memory of beetles

Tuesday, Day 4... Standing still on a sand dune, I see both the full moon and the sun in the same sky... A luminous face-off. Magical, overwhelming... Then the moon paled, and the sun blazed brighter. It wasn’t quite night anymore, but day wasn’t far off... The Sacred, Mystical universe unfolded before me... A moment of grace that made my heart beat a little faster... Something indescribable gradually filled me, with infinite gentleness, to the depths of my soul... Facing this unlikely encounter, hesitations, reluctance, and fears seem so trivial... What are we if not fragments of this universe where everything is united... everything is connected...

Then comes the intention of a new message: "I’d love to put a face to..." But in this exchange scattered with misunderstandings, could you receive the intention without interpreting it?...

I stayed a long time on that dune, under the spell... Standing, barefoot and rooted... heart open... Receptive... in Unity between the infinitely small grain of sand and the infinitely vast universe... I hadn’t come to seek anything, yet the generous Earth offered its energy, its subtle strength to every cell of my body, and filled my soul with light... In exchange for this blood spilled on the sand over these four days?...

Give to Receive... Receive and Give... like a signed pact.

What exiled me from my life, disrupting all my bearings, drew me here... A necessary passage through space, withdrawal, and silence... for another birth?... The real desert after the symbolic desert... Pausing for a moment, as if at a crossroads. Connecting before continuing... If this path leads to the essential, then this path has a heart and will continue...

At the foot of the dune on the way down, I found a little Fatima’s hand made of beads. A gift from the desert...

Gift from the desert, good luck charm?

Mohammed and Abdou leave Erg Lihoudi with other people—our shared adventure ends here... Emotion... looks and gestures speak louder than any words... Thank you, from the bottom of my heart...

Return to Zagora in a rickety, bumpy 4x4... After the track, we cross a vast palm grove... Shimmering colors, lush vegetation, palm trees growing in wheat fields... Tender green of the ears, faded green of the fronds, all shades of green contrast with the ochre and pink stone walls... My eyes rediscover green... My eyes rediscover colors... On a narrow path, the 4x4 finds itself facing a donkey carrying three children on its back... Impossible to pass. Who will back up?... Well, roaring progress bowed to four-legged tradition: in a cloud of dust, the 4x4 reversed for several hundred meters... The donkey passed calmly... On its back, the three children waved their hands...

Noon, arrival at *La Fibule du Draa*... Smiling welcome from Lahcen. He offers me a shower—I refuse... Even if he seems a little surprised, he has the delicacy not to show it too much... Strangely, I don’t feel dirty. Yet my clothes are the same, and my body hasn’t seen a drop of water since the day I left... But I want to keep the warmth and the smell of sand on my skin... reconnecting with forgotten, instinctive, animal sensations... So, I transfer my meticulousness and civilized conditioning to my bag... I take everything out, empty it, shake it... hunting down the smallest grain of sand... Futile effort! (I still find some today...) The afternoon stretches lazily by the pool... I contemplate my pebbles and make a lovely encounter...

The Zagora-Marrakech bus leaves at 7 PM... It’s the night of the full moon, and as soon as night falls, the sky fills with stars... Points of light without beginning, without duration, without end... Tiny lights so distant and so close...

Wanting to share this moment... And with whom else? If you look up, you’re the only one seeing the same sky as me. So, the intention of another message. But in this fragile, stumbling exchange... marked by misunderstandings... could you receive the intention without interpreting it?

The trip is shorter than on the way there, but barely more comfortable. A speaker right above my seat blares music and incantations the whole way... Halfway through, the same unusual stop in a village lit up and bustling as if it were daytime (Taddart, I think...). Along the main street, the ground is checkered black and white. Butcher stalls display entire beef carcasses... Smells of smoke and grilling... People are busy... Others, seated, are eating... in the middle of the night.

Arrival in Marrakech at 2 AM. Taxi strike, no room until tonight... Uh-oh! My backpack draws attention: a car stops and offers to take me for 80 DH... Trust... Five minutes later, I push open the door of *Le Toulousain*... The guard offers to let me finish the night on one of the lobby benches. I unfold my sleeping bag and slip into the desert’s scent... No sleep. But with my eyes closed, I see the stars... You came to pick up my bulky envelope.

Wednesday... Difficult early morning... Now, I feel dirty, my clothes bother me, my shoes hurt... Craving a long hot shower, wanting to find my body, wash my hair, put on cream, do my nails, and... It’ll be a long shower... cold! The hotel is charming but a bit run-down.

Clothes from 4 days...

Afternoon on foot in the quiet Hivernage district, searching for a childhood memory that may have changed names: the *Holiday Inn* hotel... I didn’t find it, or didn’t recognize it. Long stroll in the Menara Gardens, and return to the hotel at sunset...

Thursday... Last day... Wanting to see the Marrakech Museum because the founder was a friend of my father’s... So, the familiar route: the McDonald’s, the square with the fountain, Avenue Hassan II, Bab Doukkala... but this time, I pass through the ramparts, and in the old city—sensual, charming, enchanting—I get lost, found, and lost again... I tracked down the museum and the Ben Youssef Madrasa at the end of a maze of alleys... Followed scents of mint, olives, honey, and cinnamon... Savored, moved, the same donuts as in my childhood—golden fried dough rings with a hole in the middle, tied together with a blade of grass... (I don’t remember the name...) I filled my eyes with pretty things and exchanged smiles... Received, just like that... A gift... a ring for my little finger... Someone called out to me: "Hey, gazelle," and it made me happy...

.. Still lost!...

Afternoon in the sun in the Koutoubia Gardens. I finish my book—sand falls from between the pages...

.. Started on the plane... read in the desert... finished in Marrakech...

Melancholy of the last evening... So, on the way back to the hotel, I buy *kesra* and *La Vache qui Rit*...

Long, long sleepless night... Flight in a few hours... Happy to see the ones I love again, too.

Thoughts, emotions, sensations, images... Questions... One question... So, more than reason, going over and over the question... What there is to live, it’ll have to be lived...

The desert, a solitary path... like all paths that lead to the essential...

3:30 AM, your message, read by the metallic voice of a voicemail. And you, facing physical failure, past mistakes, fear... A solitary path. Also. Like all paths that lead to the essential...
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Aleph240758 2 weeks ago
Villages around Hazaribagh in West Bengal
Wednesday, April 1st

Hazaribagh I’ve got a meet-up with Adam Iman, a guide and painter. He picks me up from the hotel at 10 AM. Another traveler from Bangalore is supposed to join us, but while we wait for him to arrive, Adam takes me to see the paintings his mother and sister created at Hazaribagh station. The town became famous thanks to these murals, which can also be found in several surrounding villages. This art form has earned recognition and is now protected, a sign of its cultural importance. Once the visit is over, we go to pick up the other traveler and then head to our first village: Belwara, where Sohrai art is practiced. At the entrance, a sign proudly announces that we’re entering an artists’ village, where this art is created by women organized into micro-enterprises. Some even offer workshops for those who’d like to learn this tradition.



Sohrai art is tied to the harvest season, from October to mid-November. The motifs, in natural colors, celebrate fertility and abundance. The artists use pigments from the earth: red oxides, ochre, white kaolin, and black manganese. On the walls, you’ll see animals, fish, birds—all symbols of life and prosperity. As I look closer at the murals, I start to realize that each motif tells a story. Large animals like cows or bulls often take center stage. Their bodies are filled with intricate, almost hypnotic patterns. They symbolize wealth and prosperity for the household, as well as the deep respect for cattle, which are essential to daily life. On some facades, elephants stand out—massive and decorated with the same precision. They evoke quiet strength and protection. But it’s when I stop in front of one of the houses that I really take the time to look. The wall, a soft ochre, is entirely covered in murals. Two large animals stretch out on either side of the door, their elongated bodies fitting the length of the wall. Their silhouettes are filled with geometric patterns and incredibly fine curved lines, as if every space was patiently filled. Around them, stylized plants, flowers, and small decorative elements fill every gap. The door, dark and worn, becomes almost the silent center of the composition, framed by these living, protective forms. To the right, a more colorful motif catches the eye—a flower or a stylized lamp—like a touch of light on the earth. The whole thing gives an impression of perfect balance, between the rigor of the patterns and the freedom of the gesture.



Elsewhere, birds and freer forms bring movement. Peacocks, recognizable by their stylized silhouettes, embody beauty and vitality, while fish symbolize water, fertility, and the continuity of life.

On some paintings, the scenes become almost narrative: you can make out figures, everyday gestures, like a memory of the village inscribed in the walls. The decorative frames around the doors aren’t left to chance either—they symbolically protect the house, like a boundary between the inside and the outside world.







During the Sohrai festival, cattle are led into the jungle in the morning. Meanwhile, the women finish the *aripans*—these floor paintings—and continue the wall murals. Around noon, the animals return to the village, and the bulls’ horns are anointed with oil and vermilion in a gesture of gratitude, amid the vibrant colors adorning the houses. We visit several artists, including Parvat Devi, a well-known woman who has received many awards. Her arms are adorned with intriguing tattoos, which I’ll talk about in more detail later.



On another wall, the style changes completely. Here, no massive animals—just birds occupying the space, light and graceful, as if caught in mid-movement. Two silhouettes face each other, their long necks arched almost like mirrors, while their outstretched wings seem to vibrate with the patterns that compose them.



The design is more graphic, almost airy. The lines are smoother, more fluid, as if drawn in one confident stroke. The birds’ bodies aren’t solid—they’re filled with repetitive motifs like scales, stylized feathers, and spirals, giving a sense of continuous movement. Around them, everything comes to life: flowers burst open, arabesques swirl, and even the simplest shapes seem alive. What strikes me here is the sense of lightness. Where the large animals evoked stability and grounding, these birds bring something freer, almost joyful. They seem to embody movement, the circulation of life, like a breath flowing through the village.



The colors remain the same—deep reds, intense blacks, and chalky white—but the rhythm is different. Faster, more spontaneous. As if each wall had its own personality, while still speaking the same language.

That’s probably why I’m so moved. I’d heard about these paintings from my friend Raja, and last year, I saw an exhibition in a village near my home. That first encounter made me want to come here. But seeing them in person is a whole different experience. These paintings are unique. This ancient art is passed down from mother to daughter, or mother-in-law to daughter-in-law, in a quiet, deeply living continuity. At first glance, it might seem almost childlike in its simplicity and pared-down forms. And yet, everything is thought out, balanced, mastered. Nothing is left to chance.



That apparent simplicity, combined with such rich symbolism, touches me deeply. There’s something sincere and essential in these walls—and that’s what moves me.
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