Biking (MTB) along the Canal between the Two Seas (France)
by Facteur4
Translated into English.
No, I'm in the middle of adjusting my trailer!
2/3 welds to go!
The 50 € trailers from eBay are fantastic! You've got to do everything yourself :D
I've got both slick and all-terrain tires—I was thinking of bringing both!
rouler jeunesse !!
Single-wheel trailer, I hope!
So if there's space, why not, and only put on the fenders if necessary.
Have a good trip.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Yes, I just tried it tonight! 52 km with 32 kg—everything’s good!!
Gotta oil the chain; I didn’t think it’d pull that much!!
Tomorrow I’ll try to find some tires like you showed me!!!
For a first trip organized in 2 weeks, I’m feeling good about it :)
Thanks so much!!
rouler jeunesse !!
Perfect!
Don’t hesitate to stop at the rest area in Valence d'Agen: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=4210620#4210620
See photos here: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=4229381#4229381
As you can see, it’s 112 km from Castets-en-Dorthe (end of the canal lateral to the Garonne) and it’s very well equipped.
It’s on the right just before the port of Valence d'Agen, in the old slaughterhouses.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I'M BACK AND OVER THE MOON!!!
This was an amazing adventure for my first trip! Here’s a bit about my journey: 824.69 km covered Average speed: 16 km/h Top speed reached: 68 km/h Time spent on the bike: 51h34 + Hike up Pic St Loup Cities visited: Bordeaux - Toulouse - Carcassonne - Agde - Béziers - Montpellier - St Mathieu de Tréviers - Sommières - Nîmes - Marguerites - Montpellier
I had some incredible moments! The toughest days were the best—it’s when you meet people!
I only had one full day of rain, otherwise it wasn’t too bad!
I highly recommend bringing saline solution for pollen—I didn’t have any and suffered, especially on public holidays :(
My trailer held up well, no major issues, just a few adjustments needed! Only one flat tire at the threshold of Narouze!
I camped all over the place, which let me witness two stags fighting at dawn—it was amazing!!
The view of the snow-capped mountains
I loved how respectful people were when they saw me with the trailer, and the exchanges with other cycle tourists!
The hike up Pic St Loup was a highlight—definitely worth doing again!
The stops at Facebook contacts’ places were great too!
This route is really awesome—I fell in love with bike travel right away and can’t wait to hit the road again!!!!!
My approximate itinerary: Day 1: 70 km (Bordeaux - Marmande) Day 2: 100 km (Marmande - Lafox) Day 3: 112 km (Lafox - Toulouse (stayed with a Facebook contact, left the next afternoon)) Day 4: 50 km (Toulouse - Port Lauragais) Day 5: (Port Lauragais - Trèbes) Day 6: (Trèbes - Agde) Day 7: (Agde - Montpellier (stopped at a Facebook contact’s for 3 days)) Then 3 days waiting in St Mathieu de Tréviers for good weather to hike Pic St Loup Hike done on Pentecost Monday Left the next day for Nîmes, then Marguerites Returned to Montpellier and finally took the train in 3 legs (Montpellier - Narbonne / Narbonne - Toulouse / Toulouse - Bordeaux)
This was an amazing adventure for my first trip! Here’s a bit about my journey: 824.69 km covered Average speed: 16 km/h Top speed reached: 68 km/h Time spent on the bike: 51h34 + Hike up Pic St Loup Cities visited: Bordeaux - Toulouse - Carcassonne - Agde - Béziers - Montpellier - St Mathieu de Tréviers - Sommières - Nîmes - Marguerites - Montpellier
I had some incredible moments! The toughest days were the best—it’s when you meet people!
I only had one full day of rain, otherwise it wasn’t too bad!
I highly recommend bringing saline solution for pollen—I didn’t have any and suffered, especially on public holidays :(
My trailer held up well, no major issues, just a few adjustments needed! Only one flat tire at the threshold of Narouze!
I camped all over the place, which let me witness two stags fighting at dawn—it was amazing!!
The view of the snow-capped mountains
I loved how respectful people were when they saw me with the trailer, and the exchanges with other cycle tourists!
The hike up Pic St Loup was a highlight—definitely worth doing again!
The stops at Facebook contacts’ places were great too!
This route is really awesome—I fell in love with bike travel right away and can’t wait to hit the road again!!!!!
My approximate itinerary: Day 1: 70 km (Bordeaux - Marmande) Day 2: 100 km (Marmande - Lafox) Day 3: 112 km (Lafox - Toulouse (stayed with a Facebook contact, left the next afternoon)) Day 4: 50 km (Toulouse - Port Lauragais) Day 5: (Port Lauragais - Trèbes) Day 6: (Trèbes - Agde) Day 7: (Agde - Montpellier (stopped at a Facebook contact’s for 3 days)) Then 3 days waiting in St Mathieu de Tréviers for good weather to hike Pic St Loup Hike done on Pentecost Monday Left the next day for Nîmes, then Marguerites Returned to Montpellier and finally took the train in 3 legs (Montpellier - Narbonne / Narbonne - Toulouse / Toulouse - Bordeaux)
rouler jeunesse !!
Glad you enjoyed your first bike trip!
I’m actually heading out in a few minutes:
I have to do an internship in Lyon during the first week of June. Starting from Agen, I could do what most of my colleagues do—rent a car to get to Toulouse Blagnac Airport and then take a one-hour flight to Saint-Exupéry. Or, like those who are afraid to leave the ground, take the train in 8 hours, whether via Paris (pretty wild) or via Marseille, or in 7.5 hours with changes in Toulouse and Nîmes (already more logical). Theoretically, no one would drive. Since my employer barely reimburses car mileage to discourage this riskier option, it’s not worth covering the 520 km in 6 hours. I’ve chosen to bike there, combining the useful and the pleasant, and cover 650 km by taking the southern route. This will also reduce the carbon footprint of this internship. Since I’m off the week before, I’ve decided to ride safely along the *canal latéral à la Garonne* to Toulouse, then the *canal du Midi* to Sète. After that, I’ll take the towpath of the *canal de Sète au Rhône*, which joins it at Beaucaire and Tarascon. http://ronfleur.r.o.pic.centerblog.net/cml9nkmu.jpg Next, I’ll follow the Rhône, which will be risky until the *ViaRhôna* bike route is finished. A ride that’s doable in just under a week with a loaded MTB. The problem is the return trip—I’m not sure if the three trains I need to take (Lyon-Montpellier, Montpellier-Toulouse, and Toulouse-Agen) will accept my bike. Plus, on its website, SNCF doesn’t allow booking a bike space (for 10 €) when one is available. From my experience with multiple bike trips, getting on the train is often difficult. Recently, the large white bicycle logos that indicated equipped cars were replaced with tiny ones on a blue background. It’s really hard to spot them when the train arrives. Train compositions never show which cars have bike compartments, and staff never know whether to board at the front or back. Since it’s tough to climb the two high steps of the old *Corail* cars through the narrow door with a loaded bike, it delays other passengers and the departure. In TGVs, bike spaces are very limited, and SNCF had decided that the new double-decker trains wouldn’t have any at all. Luckily, I just learned that these new double-decker trains will finally accept 2 bikes. It’s not much, but it might let two travelers get home. Only in TERs are bikes accepted for free, with a bit more space, which is useful for many daily commuters. The state should require SNCF to make train travel easier for bikes by adding a dedicated car at the end of trains if needed. Because the TRAIN + BIKE combo is perfect for the energy transition. Cyclists need to be considered and properly informed. Here are two links to my first work trips where I combined train and bike: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=2799841#2799841 http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=3804254#3804254
I have to do an internship in Lyon during the first week of June. Starting from Agen, I could do what most of my colleagues do—rent a car to get to Toulouse Blagnac Airport and then take a one-hour flight to Saint-Exupéry. Or, like those who are afraid to leave the ground, take the train in 8 hours, whether via Paris (pretty wild) or via Marseille, or in 7.5 hours with changes in Toulouse and Nîmes (already more logical). Theoretically, no one would drive. Since my employer barely reimburses car mileage to discourage this riskier option, it’s not worth covering the 520 km in 6 hours. I’ve chosen to bike there, combining the useful and the pleasant, and cover 650 km by taking the southern route. This will also reduce the carbon footprint of this internship. Since I’m off the week before, I’ve decided to ride safely along the *canal latéral à la Garonne* to Toulouse, then the *canal du Midi* to Sète. After that, I’ll take the towpath of the *canal de Sète au Rhône*, which joins it at Beaucaire and Tarascon. http://ronfleur.r.o.pic.centerblog.net/cml9nkmu.jpg Next, I’ll follow the Rhône, which will be risky until the *ViaRhôna* bike route is finished. A ride that’s doable in just under a week with a loaded MTB. The problem is the return trip—I’m not sure if the three trains I need to take (Lyon-Montpellier, Montpellier-Toulouse, and Toulouse-Agen) will accept my bike. Plus, on its website, SNCF doesn’t allow booking a bike space (for 10 €) when one is available. From my experience with multiple bike trips, getting on the train is often difficult. Recently, the large white bicycle logos that indicated equipped cars were replaced with tiny ones on a blue background. It’s really hard to spot them when the train arrives. Train compositions never show which cars have bike compartments, and staff never know whether to board at the front or back. Since it’s tough to climb the two high steps of the old *Corail* cars through the narrow door with a loaded bike, it delays other passengers and the departure. In TGVs, bike spaces are very limited, and SNCF had decided that the new double-decker trains wouldn’t have any at all. Luckily, I just learned that these new double-decker trains will finally accept 2 bikes. It’s not much, but it might let two travelers get home. Only in TERs are bikes accepted for free, with a bit more space, which is useful for many daily commuters. The state should require SNCF to make train travel easier for bikes by adding a dedicated car at the end of trains if needed. Because the TRAIN + BIKE combo is perfect for the energy transition. Cyclists need to be considered and properly informed. Here are two links to my first work trips where I combined train and bike: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=2799841#2799841 http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=3804254#3804254
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
My third business trip by bike
Day 1 Monday 27/05/13 Valence d'Agen 09:15 AM Toulouse 05:00 PM 91 km
I quickly reach the bike path since I'm lucky enough that the lateral canal to the Garonne runs through my village. I won’t explain this part again as it’s been described many times in previous stories.
I’ll just remind you that the towpath is paved along its entire length:
http://www.canal-et-voie-verte.com/
As I approach Moissac, I cross paths with many hikers on the St. James Way and a few cyclists. An Englishman overtakes me, just as loaded as I am. The difference is he’s in shorts while I’m well covered. That doesn’t stop my nose from running because of the cold headwind. I’ve already ruined a cloth handkerchief, and switching to paper ones is going to ruin my nose. But you won’t have this problem unless, like me according to Ayurvedic medicine, you’re Vata. After having my tonsils removed and going through 3 ENT treatments, conventional medicine concluded that I have fragile respiratory tracts. Tough luck! I take my first break by the Tarn River, enjoying the strawberries I carefully packed before leaving. See photo of the Napoleon Bridge over the Tarn: http://voyageforum.com/...post=3316327#3316327 I walk across the Cacor canal bridge that spans the Tarn. Even though I was born in the 20th century, I never would’ve imagined a navigable waterway passing over a river. Fortunately, human ingenuity didn’t wait for me. At 12:15 PM, I reach the pretty pleasure port of Montech after 41 km. Unfortunately, the restaurant *de l'Éclusier* still hasn’t found a new owner. So I head into town to enjoy another meal at the *Restaurant de la Place* with the 12 € menu made from fresh products. While I was outside checking my panniers for my Toulouse map, the waiter placed *La Dépêche du Midi* on my table. Martin Malvy, president of the regional council, claiming that Midi-Pyrénées is the most advanced region in energy transition. While significant efforts have been made for TER trains and bikes, I’m surprised he doesn’t offer aid for purchasing electric vehicles when others do. After Montech and before Toulouse, kilometer markers painted on the ground confirm my odometer is accurate. I don’t understand why there are never directional signs with the distance to the next town along the *Voie Verte*. These green-on-white signs exist, but they always point to exits from the route toward villages or points of interest. These signs should be in black since they’re for roads. Only directions that follow the *Voie Verte* should be in green. Can anyone explain this to me? The industrial zone of Toulouse has its walls used for urban art. Some tags are very pretty, but I prefer the allegorical sculpture of the Garonne and the Ariège rivers. Even though I have the maps for Lyon and Sète, I forgot the one for Toulouse to find my daughter’s new apartment, so I start the GPS. It has a pedestrian and bike mode, but it only knows car routes (a remnant of a century of monoculture). After the twin bridges, when I take the towpath of the *Canal de Brienne*, it gets a bit confused. See photo of Toulouse at the bottom of the page: http://voyageforum.com/...post=5284190#5284190 On the road, it doesn’t know about new no-entry signs or that bike lanes are allowed in bus lanes, so it makes me take some weird detours. But since it shows the direction and distance to the destination, I get there after a few detours.
As I approach Moissac, I cross paths with many hikers on the St. James Way and a few cyclists. An Englishman overtakes me, just as loaded as I am. The difference is he’s in shorts while I’m well covered. That doesn’t stop my nose from running because of the cold headwind. I’ve already ruined a cloth handkerchief, and switching to paper ones is going to ruin my nose. But you won’t have this problem unless, like me according to Ayurvedic medicine, you’re Vata. After having my tonsils removed and going through 3 ENT treatments, conventional medicine concluded that I have fragile respiratory tracts. Tough luck! I take my first break by the Tarn River, enjoying the strawberries I carefully packed before leaving. See photo of the Napoleon Bridge over the Tarn: http://voyageforum.com/...post=3316327#3316327 I walk across the Cacor canal bridge that spans the Tarn. Even though I was born in the 20th century, I never would’ve imagined a navigable waterway passing over a river. Fortunately, human ingenuity didn’t wait for me. At 12:15 PM, I reach the pretty pleasure port of Montech after 41 km. Unfortunately, the restaurant *de l'Éclusier* still hasn’t found a new owner. So I head into town to enjoy another meal at the *Restaurant de la Place* with the 12 € menu made from fresh products. While I was outside checking my panniers for my Toulouse map, the waiter placed *La Dépêche du Midi* on my table. Martin Malvy, president of the regional council, claiming that Midi-Pyrénées is the most advanced region in energy transition. While significant efforts have been made for TER trains and bikes, I’m surprised he doesn’t offer aid for purchasing electric vehicles when others do. After Montech and before Toulouse, kilometer markers painted on the ground confirm my odometer is accurate. I don’t understand why there are never directional signs with the distance to the next town along the *Voie Verte*. These green-on-white signs exist, but they always point to exits from the route toward villages or points of interest. These signs should be in black since they’re for roads. Only directions that follow the *Voie Verte* should be in green. Can anyone explain this to me? The industrial zone of Toulouse has its walls used for urban art. Some tags are very pretty, but I prefer the allegorical sculpture of the Garonne and the Ariège rivers. Even though I have the maps for Lyon and Sète, I forgot the one for Toulouse to find my daughter’s new apartment, so I start the GPS. It has a pedestrian and bike mode, but it only knows car routes (a remnant of a century of monoculture). After the twin bridges, when I take the towpath of the *Canal de Brienne*, it gets a bit confused. See photo of Toulouse at the bottom of the page: http://voyageforum.com/...post=5284190#5284190 On the road, it doesn’t know about new no-entry signs or that bike lanes are allowed in bus lanes, so it makes me take some weird detours. But since it shows the direction and distance to the destination, I get there after a few detours.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Day 2 Tuesday 28/05 Toulouse 08:45 - Marseillette 18:15 122 km
When I wake up at 7 AM, it’s not raining. But as I start loading my bike, the raindrops appear. While I’m searching for my second black glove without finding it in the elastic side pocket of my handlebar bag, the shower intensifies.
I set off in my rain jacket and over-pants.
I ask for directions to the Canal du Midi. I’m really surprised to find so few cyclists there—especially on Rangeuil, where traffic is always heavy. There are almost more joggers. True, they’re there to "get soaked."
The rain is steady, but luckily the wind is at my back. At the first restroom on the greenway where I planned to refill my water bottle, there’s a chain and a padlock. The next restrooms are at the highway rest area, but I don’t bother locking my bike to the designated rack or entering ASF’s property. I’m not very thirsty, and I still have some water left from the day before. Still, I’m happy to find a lock with public restrooms after 35 km. Even though my feet are soaked, I eventually get thirsty. The upside of the canal is that even when it stops raining, you keep getting dripped on by the trees—especially with the wind gusts. But all of that is just a warm-up compared to the riding conditions waiting for me in the Aude.
Since the path is only paved for the first 50 km up to Port Lauragais, and I don’t want to check the condition of the dirt towpath, I start looking for a way to join the road. While many locks are backed by a bridge that lets a road cross the canal, there’s never any sign inviting you to take them. I search in vain for the D43 to turn left toward Avignonet-Lauragais. As soon as I hit 40 km on the odometer, I try a small road, but it peters out in the countryside. I go back to the canal, and the next one becomes a bridge over the highway. I don’t understand why the mayors don’t put up signs to attract the canal’s many tourists. Maybe they prefer the ones who arrive by car? Because at every road intersection, there are signs. Too bad the drivers go way too fast to admire their villages.
Here I am on the D813 (the old national road 113), and the pavement is super smooth. It passes in front of the restaurant Le Pilori, where I’ve eaten before on the covered terrace. This time, since there’s no table available, I leave my bike and rain gear there. I swap my soaked socks and shoes for my sandals (pure bliss). I’m almost presentable to enjoy my whisky-flambéed prawns.
In the afternoon, it rains less, but I keep my rain gear on because at 2 PM it’s only 12°C. "In May, do as you please"—especially if you like the cold and rain.
I quickly pass through the Aude. On the D6113, the road surface is noticeably worse, and there’s no longer a paved shoulder to ride safely on.
Long live decentralization and the disappearance of national roads! It’s the exact same problem with cycle routes that lack consistency and resources when they cross department lines. Yet the N113, which connected Bordeaux to Marseille, was truly of national interest, just like the cycle route between the two seas. I’d even say that a greenway linking Bordeaux to Sète along the Canal du Midi is of international interest.
In Castelnaudary, I switch to the D33, which is pleasant, but as I approach Carcassonne, traffic increases, and since it’s narrower, I end up feeling less safe than on the old national road.
There’s even a ZOE that overtakes me: http://www.renault.fr/gamme-renault/vehicules-electriques/zoe/zoe/presentation-generale/?ORIGIN=liens-commerciaux&CAMPAIGN=modeles_zoe_go_fil_ord_def-exact&utm_campaign=modeles_zoe_go_fil_ord_def-exact&utm_medium=cpc&utm_source=google&utm_content=modeles_zoe_go_fil_ord_def-exact&gclid=CPfR0af6u7cCFeTLtAodzQEABg&mckv=mkwid%7CsA8OLy39I%7Cpcrid%7C19669531149%7Cplid%7C%7Ckword%7Czoe+renault%7C
I reach Carcassonne at 4 PM. Starting from Toulouse, I’ve never arrived this early. I easily polish off a *jésuite* (a local pastry) and a Norman tart.
Since it’s no longer raining and the wind is favorable, I hope the towpath has started to dry out. Especially since there’s officially a bike path between Carcassonne and Trèbes. I’ve passed through there 10 times and never seen it. In fact, on the map published by Canal-et-voie-verte.com, the solid green line from the first edition has been replaced with dotted lines. I have to admit the lack of roots and rocks is an improvement, replaced by very fine gravel. But there are still puddles and, further on, a bit of mud—see photos (hover to see the title). It’s the hiking route along the Canal du Midi.
I arrive without issue at the Domaine de Beauvoir, where I’ve booked a *foudre* (a large wine barrel). See photos at the bottom of this page: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=5290630#5290630
I meet several cyclists there who confirm that the condition of the towpath between Port Lauragais and Carcassonne is disastrous. One couple was afraid of falling into the canal several times. Their brakes quickly became useless due to the mud, and then their wheels got jammed by the thickness of dirt between the tires and fenders. They only booked a room after being assured they’d have a hose to clean up.
I’m stunned that a couple with a 2-year-old in a two-wheeled trailer managed to come from Castelnaudary along the canal. A German woman confirms she had to ride all day in a narrow rut (I’m ashamed for my country).
I really nailed my route because they confirm that from Carcassonne onward, it was much better.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Day 3 Wednesday, May 29 – Marseillette 9 AM to Portiragnes 4 PM, 87 km
Since the sky is pretty blue this morning, I decide to take my chances on the canal. As soon as I’ve gone a few hundred meters past the Marseillette lock, the mud appears, and I quickly regret this choice. I stop to take a photo, and a couple from Domaine de Beauvoir arrives and tells me it’s just like the day before. I don’t know how they manage to keep going. I say I’ll take the next exit. In the meantime, I try to avoid the mud by riding through the tall grass. It’s a bit risky because it can hide roots or a coypu hole. I manage not to step in it, but I end up switching from my sandals to my shoes. I can see the road running alongside the canal, but it’s on the other side. Since it’s forbidden to cross on the lock gates, I don’t ask the *Voies Navigables de France* employee for permission. Anyway, it’s too tight with panniers on the narrow footbridge. After 5 km, a lifesaving bridge lets me switch sides. With a flat stone, I scrape the mud clinging to the tires. The D610 is smooth riding. After Homps, it becomes the D11, then the D5, but I quickly realize they’re not as flat as the towpath. You need hills to expose the Minervois vineyards to the sun. In Capestang, I choose the town center to shelter from the wind and enjoy some sun at *La Table du Vigneron*. As I continue toward Béziers, I think it would be smarter to rejoin the canal rather than having to climb the Ensérune hill. Especially since the D11 turns into a 4-lane road, likely off-limits to bikes. But it’s silly because cyclists can’t go through the Malpas tunnel (a dangerous spot due to landslide deaths), which Riquet had dug to ensure his work passed through his hometown of Béziers. It took all his determination for the first navigable canal in history to go underground. The first few meters of the towpath have dried thanks to the sun and wind. But in the shade of the trees, there’s still mud. It’s colder there, too, but the extra focus needed to avoid roots and puddles makes up for it.
The muck is among us You’ll be up to your neck in it It won’t cost you a cent All along the Canalou For those who go all the way There won’t be many You’ll arrive at Les Onglous Completely covered in mud
Actually, unlike this morning, I can keep control of the bike, and the path is graveled as I approach Malpas (which usually makes people grumble). Then I have the choice between the towpath by the canal and a path above the plane trees. It lets me reach the 9 Fonsérane locks, where there are lots of tourists. I cross the Béziers canal bridge and enjoy 15 km of bike path to Portiragnes. Surprisingly, there are many bikes, including families. I realize it’s Wednesday. Since my company’s works council has a holiday village in Portiragnes Plage, I’m tempted to go there. As I suspected, it’s not open yet. At the tourist office, they offer me a cottage rental for 50 € or the only hotel for 62 €. I choose the latter because I’m not equipped to use a kitchen (groceries) and don’t want to end up in a cold place. Around 4:30 PM, I open the door to *Hôtel Le Mirador* and see a second door closed. Reception only opens at 5 PM, but I can’t leave—the outer door has locked behind me. Luckily, a sticker shows the hotel’s phone number. I call and introduce myself as the tourist office’s client. The man confirms reception won’t open until 5 PM. I tell him I’m in the lobby. He says he’ll arrive soon. I thought I’d get my room quickly, but I’d still put on my bike lock. I didn’t want a repeat of the previous situation. Doubting the tourist office was still open, I’d left my bike outside. Since the staff member had handled my request, I worried my ride might disappear while she was on the phone. Here, I could’ve watched a thief from my "aquarium" without being able to do anything...
Since the sky is pretty blue this morning, I decide to take my chances on the canal. As soon as I’ve gone a few hundred meters past the Marseillette lock, the mud appears, and I quickly regret this choice. I stop to take a photo, and a couple from Domaine de Beauvoir arrives and tells me it’s just like the day before. I don’t know how they manage to keep going. I say I’ll take the next exit. In the meantime, I try to avoid the mud by riding through the tall grass. It’s a bit risky because it can hide roots or a coypu hole. I manage not to step in it, but I end up switching from my sandals to my shoes. I can see the road running alongside the canal, but it’s on the other side. Since it’s forbidden to cross on the lock gates, I don’t ask the *Voies Navigables de France* employee for permission. Anyway, it’s too tight with panniers on the narrow footbridge. After 5 km, a lifesaving bridge lets me switch sides. With a flat stone, I scrape the mud clinging to the tires. The D610 is smooth riding. After Homps, it becomes the D11, then the D5, but I quickly realize they’re not as flat as the towpath. You need hills to expose the Minervois vineyards to the sun. In Capestang, I choose the town center to shelter from the wind and enjoy some sun at *La Table du Vigneron*. As I continue toward Béziers, I think it would be smarter to rejoin the canal rather than having to climb the Ensérune hill. Especially since the D11 turns into a 4-lane road, likely off-limits to bikes. But it’s silly because cyclists can’t go through the Malpas tunnel (a dangerous spot due to landslide deaths), which Riquet had dug to ensure his work passed through his hometown of Béziers. It took all his determination for the first navigable canal in history to go underground. The first few meters of the towpath have dried thanks to the sun and wind. But in the shade of the trees, there’s still mud. It’s colder there, too, but the extra focus needed to avoid roots and puddles makes up for it.
The muck is among us You’ll be up to your neck in it It won’t cost you a cent All along the Canalou For those who go all the way There won’t be many You’ll arrive at Les Onglous Completely covered in mud
Actually, unlike this morning, I can keep control of the bike, and the path is graveled as I approach Malpas (which usually makes people grumble). Then I have the choice between the towpath by the canal and a path above the plane trees. It lets me reach the 9 Fonsérane locks, where there are lots of tourists. I cross the Béziers canal bridge and enjoy 15 km of bike path to Portiragnes. Surprisingly, there are many bikes, including families. I realize it’s Wednesday. Since my company’s works council has a holiday village in Portiragnes Plage, I’m tempted to go there. As I suspected, it’s not open yet. At the tourist office, they offer me a cottage rental for 50 € or the only hotel for 62 €. I choose the latter because I’m not equipped to use a kitchen (groceries) and don’t want to end up in a cold place. Around 4:30 PM, I open the door to *Hôtel Le Mirador* and see a second door closed. Reception only opens at 5 PM, but I can’t leave—the outer door has locked behind me. Luckily, a sticker shows the hotel’s phone number. I call and introduce myself as the tourist office’s client. The man confirms reception won’t open until 5 PM. I tell him I’m in the lobby. He says he’ll arrive soon. I thought I’d get my room quickly, but I’d still put on my bike lock. I didn’t want a repeat of the previous situation. Doubting the tourist office was still open, I’d left my bike outside. Since the staff member had handled my request, I worried my ride might disappear while she was on the phone. Here, I could’ve watched a thief from my "aquarium" without being able to do anything...
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Day 4 Thursday 30/05 Portiragnes 08:30 St Gilles 18:00 120 km
The receptionist hands me the remote that lets me retrieve my bike from the garage. I notice the odometer shows exactly 300 km. So I’ve met my goal of 100 km/day. Before leaving Portiragnes, as agreed with the hostess, I drop off the map and brochure she gave me in the tourist office’s mailbox. Recycling is good, reusing is even better: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=5957160#5957160 I find the canal and its ruts again, leading me to Agde. Luckily, the ground has dried. Today I’m in the only region of France where the sun is shining. At the round lock, I have to leave the towpath because the boats continue down into the Hérault, and at the end of the Canal du Midi, the towpath disappears into the reeds. Anyway, it doesn’t go to Sète; boats go there via the Étang de Thau. See photos here: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=5071826#5071826 As soon as I hit the road, I spot the level crossing at Agde train station. I speed up because I’m afraid the barrier will come down. Just thinking about it made the lights start flashing. I escape via the Canalet because I know the barrier stays down the whole time a train is at the station! http://www.herault-tribune.com/articles/2459/agde-le-passage-a-niveau-doit-etre-supprime/ I recognize the tower of the Hôtel la Galiote, where I slept when I arrived in central Agde, and cross the market to find the D612 (former N112). At the edge of town, the road to Sète becomes a 4-lane highway and is off-limits to bikes. Obeying the rules, I take the path to the right but worry I’m heading toward Cap d’Agde. As I hoped, an underpass lets me get back on track. I ask some English cyclists if I’m heading toward Sète, and some walkers confirm it. But they all tell me to take the main road. I’m surprised to see one, then two, then five cyclists coming toward me. Turns out the D612 goes back to one lane here. There’s just 500 m of 4-lane road to discourage cyclists from using it? It’s no longer off-limits, but since it only has a shoulder on one side, cyclists use it in both directions. Shows how much it’s needed. That’s what I’ve been asking for on the right side of French roads—a bike lane: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=5900201#5900201 Finally, the Voie Verte begins, and with it, serenity, reinforced by a 10 cm wall separating it from the road. Then the D612 was moved inland to leave the coastline to soft transport modes. I stop before crossing a street sweeper to photograph it. If only we could be pampered like this everywhere! The driver stops and lifts the brushes to let me pass. With a wave of my hand, I signal for him to start again so I can capture it in action. I thank him as I pass and get sprayed with sand too fine to be trapped. Since the wind is still in my favor, I don’t need to push hard. It’s funny how you forget to notice the absence of pain. The first two days, like often, my right knee hurt. That passed. From Toulouse, I reached Sète in two and a half days. So you can cover the 240 km of the Canal du Midi in 2 days with an unloaded hybrid bike. But in that case, you don’t get to enjoy the scenery or the engineering works. Since there’s no time to linger at restaurant terraces (on the port, I pass the one where I ate sardines), I buy a sandwich and head off to find the start of the Canal de Sète au Rhône. Here’s a discovery and link to visualize the canals: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=2631582#2631582 Knowing you can’t follow it at the start because it crosses an industrial zone, I’m forced to take the road toward Frontignan for a few km. Then on my right, I see a very wide canal. Even though his car is marked 38, I ask a fisherman if it’s the one from the Rhône to Sète. He can’t be sure but says it flows into the Étang d’Ingril, which matches my map. A second fisherman confirms it and tells me I need to switch banks. I can’t reach the bridge. A little further on, I walk against traffic on the highway to take it. Soon the canal is surrounded by water, and it’s impressive. Luckily, the towpath is wide and smooth for VNF vehicles. Too bad it’s always off-limits to bikes because of the ever-present and sometimes violent wind. Near some fishermen’s houses, I take shelter behind rocks to eat. My beer stayed cool because of the temperatures, but it fizzes violently when opened. And in Lapland, it’s 29°C! I put the jersey I washed yesterday out to dry, using a rock, sun, and wind. As I leave, I discover a quay carefully redone with brand-new mooring bollards. It’ll be inaugurated tomorrow. I almost stumbled into a ceremony in the arms of law enforcement. A big sign confirms the push to revive river transport: http://www.peniche.com/Breves/dev-durable.htm I reach Palavas-les-Flots—I’m near Montpellier, where Bruno and Vincent got married yesterday. Two pedals tied together. Mine is giving me trouble. The chain won’t shift onto the small chainring. It’s really annoying when, in a hurry, I want to switch to an easier gear and the transmission won’t cooperate. I try tightening the cable with the barrel adjuster near the shifter, but turning it doesn’t help. I just manage to make the front derailleur rub against the chain. It’s tough when you’re not mechanically inclined. Since this has happened several times in recent years, I’ll get it replaced after 20 years of service. Commercial boats aren’t allowed to go faster than 6 km/h, and pleasure boats 10 (8 on the Canal du Midi). Since, depending on the surface and the favorable wind, I ride between 15 and 30 km/h, I pass them with disconcerting ease. But I don’t see any merchant boats. A floating pedestrian and bike bridge that stays in place all day must make navigation tricky. Coming by boat would’ve been a much bigger challenge—I’d estimate 3 weeks. An excavator is moving dredged sludge, which is reused once it regains its mechanical properties after drying. I stop to wait for the operator’s permission. A few raised grated crossings allow the towpath to continue where the canal connects with the étangs. As I get off one, a jolt makes a noise that catches my attention. The top of my pannier’s fabric has come unstitched. It won’t be waterproof anymore. I wouldn’t have thought my VAUDE panniers would give out before my GO SPORT handlebar bag, which is also heavily used. Suddenly, a barrier blocks the entire road. Machines are working. I have no choice but to take the bridge toward Lunel. I want to turn right onto the D34 toward Marsillargues. But there’s no city name or road number. The directional signs only point to 3 *Mas* that mean nothing to me. I already experienced this in March when discovering the Petite Camargue on a recumbent trike: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=5898281#5898281 Then every km is marked D34. It’s really bad faith! I go for a mint water and have my bottle refilled at a bar. I take advantage of a mini market to buy some electrician’s tape. I hesitated to bring my roll of duct tape but I’m already so loaded. Now I have to cover the km, even if it means taking busy roads. At an intersection, I still take the time to enjoy the first cherries sold by the side of the D6572, which takes me toward St Gilles. With the heat setting in, I switch to shorts. 5 minutes later, I feel the first drops. But while the sky darkens behind me, I’m riding toward the sun. It wasn’t planned, but I pass through Vauvert, where I was just 2 months ago. I hesitate when I see a *mas* offering rooms, but I want to reach the Rhône to start riding upstream tomorrow. 5 or 6 km later, the rain forces me to put on my poncho. I ride 100 m uncomfortably, then the downpour intensifies, and I stop at the entrance to a field. I feel hail hitting my back and bouncing off the ground. Really stupid not to have stopped earlier. I need 15 to 20 minutes of patience for the rain to stop. I’m surprised I’m not cold in shorts and a t-shirt under the poncho. After more than 100 km, my boiler has inertia. On the other hand, my feet and sandals are full of mud from the splashes. Since it’s already 18:00 when I arrive in St Gilles and I saw an ad for a hotel-restaurant, I give up on the 30 km to Beaucaire and Tarascon. Especially since I don’t feel like taking another shower. Since the receptionist doesn’t have a shelter for my bike, she offers to put it in my room, giving me the one closest to the entrance.
Even the glass is soaked!
The receptionist hands me the remote that lets me retrieve my bike from the garage. I notice the odometer shows exactly 300 km. So I’ve met my goal of 100 km/day. Before leaving Portiragnes, as agreed with the hostess, I drop off the map and brochure she gave me in the tourist office’s mailbox. Recycling is good, reusing is even better: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=5957160#5957160 I find the canal and its ruts again, leading me to Agde. Luckily, the ground has dried. Today I’m in the only region of France where the sun is shining. At the round lock, I have to leave the towpath because the boats continue down into the Hérault, and at the end of the Canal du Midi, the towpath disappears into the reeds. Anyway, it doesn’t go to Sète; boats go there via the Étang de Thau. See photos here: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=5071826#5071826 As soon as I hit the road, I spot the level crossing at Agde train station. I speed up because I’m afraid the barrier will come down. Just thinking about it made the lights start flashing. I escape via the Canalet because I know the barrier stays down the whole time a train is at the station! http://www.herault-tribune.com/articles/2459/agde-le-passage-a-niveau-doit-etre-supprime/ I recognize the tower of the Hôtel la Galiote, where I slept when I arrived in central Agde, and cross the market to find the D612 (former N112). At the edge of town, the road to Sète becomes a 4-lane highway and is off-limits to bikes. Obeying the rules, I take the path to the right but worry I’m heading toward Cap d’Agde. As I hoped, an underpass lets me get back on track. I ask some English cyclists if I’m heading toward Sète, and some walkers confirm it. But they all tell me to take the main road. I’m surprised to see one, then two, then five cyclists coming toward me. Turns out the D612 goes back to one lane here. There’s just 500 m of 4-lane road to discourage cyclists from using it? It’s no longer off-limits, but since it only has a shoulder on one side, cyclists use it in both directions. Shows how much it’s needed. That’s what I’ve been asking for on the right side of French roads—a bike lane: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=5900201#5900201 Finally, the Voie Verte begins, and with it, serenity, reinforced by a 10 cm wall separating it from the road. Then the D612 was moved inland to leave the coastline to soft transport modes. I stop before crossing a street sweeper to photograph it. If only we could be pampered like this everywhere! The driver stops and lifts the brushes to let me pass. With a wave of my hand, I signal for him to start again so I can capture it in action. I thank him as I pass and get sprayed with sand too fine to be trapped. Since the wind is still in my favor, I don’t need to push hard. It’s funny how you forget to notice the absence of pain. The first two days, like often, my right knee hurt. That passed. From Toulouse, I reached Sète in two and a half days. So you can cover the 240 km of the Canal du Midi in 2 days with an unloaded hybrid bike. But in that case, you don’t get to enjoy the scenery or the engineering works. Since there’s no time to linger at restaurant terraces (on the port, I pass the one where I ate sardines), I buy a sandwich and head off to find the start of the Canal de Sète au Rhône. Here’s a discovery and link to visualize the canals: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=2631582#2631582 Knowing you can’t follow it at the start because it crosses an industrial zone, I’m forced to take the road toward Frontignan for a few km. Then on my right, I see a very wide canal. Even though his car is marked 38, I ask a fisherman if it’s the one from the Rhône to Sète. He can’t be sure but says it flows into the Étang d’Ingril, which matches my map. A second fisherman confirms it and tells me I need to switch banks. I can’t reach the bridge. A little further on, I walk against traffic on the highway to take it. Soon the canal is surrounded by water, and it’s impressive. Luckily, the towpath is wide and smooth for VNF vehicles. Too bad it’s always off-limits to bikes because of the ever-present and sometimes violent wind. Near some fishermen’s houses, I take shelter behind rocks to eat. My beer stayed cool because of the temperatures, but it fizzes violently when opened. And in Lapland, it’s 29°C! I put the jersey I washed yesterday out to dry, using a rock, sun, and wind. As I leave, I discover a quay carefully redone with brand-new mooring bollards. It’ll be inaugurated tomorrow. I almost stumbled into a ceremony in the arms of law enforcement. A big sign confirms the push to revive river transport: http://www.peniche.com/Breves/dev-durable.htm I reach Palavas-les-Flots—I’m near Montpellier, where Bruno and Vincent got married yesterday. Two pedals tied together. Mine is giving me trouble. The chain won’t shift onto the small chainring. It’s really annoying when, in a hurry, I want to switch to an easier gear and the transmission won’t cooperate. I try tightening the cable with the barrel adjuster near the shifter, but turning it doesn’t help. I just manage to make the front derailleur rub against the chain. It’s tough when you’re not mechanically inclined. Since this has happened several times in recent years, I’ll get it replaced after 20 years of service. Commercial boats aren’t allowed to go faster than 6 km/h, and pleasure boats 10 (8 on the Canal du Midi). Since, depending on the surface and the favorable wind, I ride between 15 and 30 km/h, I pass them with disconcerting ease. But I don’t see any merchant boats. A floating pedestrian and bike bridge that stays in place all day must make navigation tricky. Coming by boat would’ve been a much bigger challenge—I’d estimate 3 weeks. An excavator is moving dredged sludge, which is reused once it regains its mechanical properties after drying. I stop to wait for the operator’s permission. A few raised grated crossings allow the towpath to continue where the canal connects with the étangs. As I get off one, a jolt makes a noise that catches my attention. The top of my pannier’s fabric has come unstitched. It won’t be waterproof anymore. I wouldn’t have thought my VAUDE panniers would give out before my GO SPORT handlebar bag, which is also heavily used. Suddenly, a barrier blocks the entire road. Machines are working. I have no choice but to take the bridge toward Lunel. I want to turn right onto the D34 toward Marsillargues. But there’s no city name or road number. The directional signs only point to 3 *Mas* that mean nothing to me. I already experienced this in March when discovering the Petite Camargue on a recumbent trike: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=5898281#5898281 Then every km is marked D34. It’s really bad faith! I go for a mint water and have my bottle refilled at a bar. I take advantage of a mini market to buy some electrician’s tape. I hesitated to bring my roll of duct tape but I’m already so loaded. Now I have to cover the km, even if it means taking busy roads. At an intersection, I still take the time to enjoy the first cherries sold by the side of the D6572, which takes me toward St Gilles. With the heat setting in, I switch to shorts. 5 minutes later, I feel the first drops. But while the sky darkens behind me, I’m riding toward the sun. It wasn’t planned, but I pass through Vauvert, where I was just 2 months ago. I hesitate when I see a *mas* offering rooms, but I want to reach the Rhône to start riding upstream tomorrow. 5 or 6 km later, the rain forces me to put on my poncho. I ride 100 m uncomfortably, then the downpour intensifies, and I stop at the entrance to a field. I feel hail hitting my back and bouncing off the ground. Really stupid not to have stopped earlier. I need 15 to 20 minutes of patience for the rain to stop. I’m surprised I’m not cold in shorts and a t-shirt under the poncho. After more than 100 km, my boiler has inertia. On the other hand, my feet and sandals are full of mud from the splashes. Since it’s already 18:00 when I arrive in St Gilles and I saw an ad for a hotel-restaurant, I give up on the 30 km to Beaucaire and Tarascon. Especially since I don’t feel like taking another shower. Since the receptionist doesn’t have a shelter for my bike, she offers to put it in my room, giving me the one closest to the entrance.
Even the glass is soaked!
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Day 5, Friday 31/05 – St Gilles 07:30 to Avignon 12:30, 57 km
Breakfast is served from 7 AM. Perfect for tackling another long stage. I need to start heading up the Rhône before the wind picks up. First, the D38 should take me to Beaucaire. I quickly start feeling it. Since I don’t want to get caught in traffic on the bridge over the Rhône that connects to Tarascon without a chance to turn back, I decide to avoid it by taking the D90 expressway, which passes near the Vallabrègues dam. But with the traffic building up before a climb, I turn right, hoping to reach the river. After a few twists through residential areas, I ask how to get to Vallabrègues. A very kind young girl tells me I can either take the bypass (where I just came from) or go down into Beaucaire (which I wanted to avoid). She wishes me good luck without realizing how much farther I plan to go. I end up before the bridge on the Tarascon road, which I wanted to avoid. I turn left to stay on the right bank along the quays. Soon, the road leaves the riverbank, and I continue down a dead end, following the garbage truck I’d already seen in town. But it turns around because the only path left is a muddy track with deep ruts. Here we go again! I also have serious doubts because the waterway I’m following isn’t wide enough to be the Rhône. I’m glad I kept going because soon a sign indicates RHONE and 264.5. That’s exactly the distance I have left to reach LYON. I don’t see why the capital of Gaul would be kilometer zero. The Rhône flows from Lake Geneva. My trail rejoins the road without me getting stuck. I should’ve stayed on the bypass. I cross the dam bridge. Indeed, only part of the Rhône is used for navigation after its waters are swelled by the Durance.
I’m finally on the D2, which Claude Banderias recommends in his ViaRhôna guide: http://www.velopepere.fr/article-nouveau-pour-la-viarhona-le-topoguide-de-claude-bandiera-89710325.html I ordered it before leaving because the bike route is far from finished, especially in its southern half. The downside for me is that the route follows the river downstream. That makes sense since it’s called "From Lake Geneva to the Sea." Besides, Claude advises buying your train ticket back from the Mediterranean and reserving a spot for your bike before you leave. It’s harder to follow the signs in reverse. But the main reason is the Mistral. And I quickly realize it’s better to go down the Rhône Valley. I have to push hard, and my right hip starts hurting.
When I reach the oil-fired power plant in Aramon, I notice at least one truck passing me every minute. Can’t wait for a proper bike path. I’m tempted by the "halte nautique" sign, but there’s nothing but piles and construction equipment working on the bank. I’m surprised to be only 15 meters above sea level. The Rhône really has a gentle slope. Then I realize my second pannier is cracked too! While enjoying the last of yesterday’s cherries, I decide to call it quits and finish the trip by train. Riding against the wind isn’t worth the effort on this unmarked route. Giving up feels like popping a tire, but I suddenly feel relieved. I go from being a long-distance cyclist to a vacationer. In Villeneuve-lès-Avignon, I cross the Rhône. A recumbent cyclist is ahead of me. He has to carry his bike for a few meters because of broken glass. A river marker shows 242 km. Later, I learn that’s the distance to the Saône confluence, specifically from La Mulatière because upstream from Lyon, the Rhône isn’t navigable. I reach Avignon, which will be a great access point to the SNCF network. It’s really tough to cross the road to take a photo of the bridge or the Palais des Papes. At noon, the car traffic is so heavy it takes away all the pleasure of discovering the city. Luckily, as soon as you enter the old town, you forget about it—and the wind too.
On the news, I hear RYANAIR has been fined again: http://www.lesechos.fr/entreprises-secteurs/auto-transport/actu/0202798670880-proces-ryanair-le-parquet-requiert-225 000 € d'amende et la confiscation de quatre avions-571201.php So not all the news is bad! http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=5968028#5968028
Breakfast is served from 7 AM. Perfect for tackling another long stage. I need to start heading up the Rhône before the wind picks up. First, the D38 should take me to Beaucaire. I quickly start feeling it. Since I don’t want to get caught in traffic on the bridge over the Rhône that connects to Tarascon without a chance to turn back, I decide to avoid it by taking the D90 expressway, which passes near the Vallabrègues dam. But with the traffic building up before a climb, I turn right, hoping to reach the river. After a few twists through residential areas, I ask how to get to Vallabrègues. A very kind young girl tells me I can either take the bypass (where I just came from) or go down into Beaucaire (which I wanted to avoid). She wishes me good luck without realizing how much farther I plan to go. I end up before the bridge on the Tarascon road, which I wanted to avoid. I turn left to stay on the right bank along the quays. Soon, the road leaves the riverbank, and I continue down a dead end, following the garbage truck I’d already seen in town. But it turns around because the only path left is a muddy track with deep ruts. Here we go again! I also have serious doubts because the waterway I’m following isn’t wide enough to be the Rhône. I’m glad I kept going because soon a sign indicates RHONE and 264.5. That’s exactly the distance I have left to reach LYON. I don’t see why the capital of Gaul would be kilometer zero. The Rhône flows from Lake Geneva. My trail rejoins the road without me getting stuck. I should’ve stayed on the bypass. I cross the dam bridge. Indeed, only part of the Rhône is used for navigation after its waters are swelled by the Durance.
I’m finally on the D2, which Claude Banderias recommends in his ViaRhôna guide: http://www.velopepere.fr/article-nouveau-pour-la-viarhona-le-topoguide-de-claude-bandiera-89710325.html I ordered it before leaving because the bike route is far from finished, especially in its southern half. The downside for me is that the route follows the river downstream. That makes sense since it’s called "From Lake Geneva to the Sea." Besides, Claude advises buying your train ticket back from the Mediterranean and reserving a spot for your bike before you leave. It’s harder to follow the signs in reverse. But the main reason is the Mistral. And I quickly realize it’s better to go down the Rhône Valley. I have to push hard, and my right hip starts hurting.
When I reach the oil-fired power plant in Aramon, I notice at least one truck passing me every minute. Can’t wait for a proper bike path. I’m tempted by the "halte nautique" sign, but there’s nothing but piles and construction equipment working on the bank. I’m surprised to be only 15 meters above sea level. The Rhône really has a gentle slope. Then I realize my second pannier is cracked too! While enjoying the last of yesterday’s cherries, I decide to call it quits and finish the trip by train. Riding against the wind isn’t worth the effort on this unmarked route. Giving up feels like popping a tire, but I suddenly feel relieved. I go from being a long-distance cyclist to a vacationer. In Villeneuve-lès-Avignon, I cross the Rhône. A recumbent cyclist is ahead of me. He has to carry his bike for a few meters because of broken glass. A river marker shows 242 km. Later, I learn that’s the distance to the Saône confluence, specifically from La Mulatière because upstream from Lyon, the Rhône isn’t navigable. I reach Avignon, which will be a great access point to the SNCF network. It’s really tough to cross the road to take a photo of the bridge or the Palais des Papes. At noon, the car traffic is so heavy it takes away all the pleasure of discovering the city. Luckily, as soon as you enter the old town, you forget about it—and the wind too.
On the news, I hear RYANAIR has been fined again: http://www.lesechos.fr/entreprises-secteurs/auto-transport/actu/0202798670880-proces-ryanair-le-parquet-requiert-225 000 € d'amende et la confiscation de quatre avions-571201.php So not all the news is bad! http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=5968028#5968028
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Day 6, Saturday, June 1, 2013 – Avignon to Lyon, 230 km by train.
I’m worried it might be an Intercité (an old Corail train) since it’s coming from Marseille. Especially since I counted nine bikes that arrived after mine. A man with front and rear panniers doesn’t seem concerned. I can’t picture him hauling his fully loaded bike—complete with camping gear—up the two big steps through the narrow train door. Luckily, the Alpes Provence Côte d'Azur region funded some Bombardier TER trains with floors level with the platform. But I don’t see any bike logos. When I ask, the SNCF agent tells me the bike spot is probably in the middle. I just needed a magnifying glass to see the sign. After removing my panniers, I hang my bike on the hook, which would’ve been impossible for the camper. He tells me he hasn’t taken the train in years. He’s heading to the EUROVELO 6 route to eventually ride all the way to Prague. We chat the whole trip. Twenty minutes before arriving in Lyon, I notice no one’s gone into the restroom for a while, so I open the door next to us. I quickly close it and apologize to the woman inside who hadn’t locked it electrically. A young girl confirms she’s been in there for a quarter of an hour.
Five minutes later, desperate for the beer that came with my sandwich, I press the sliding door button and ask if she’ll be much longer. She apologizes, explaining she had to change for work (mostly the makeup took forever). I leave her at the sink and mirror, lock the door, and relieve myself in the adjacent toilet. When I come out, my travel companion is passed out.
Adding the final 230 km to the 477 km I’ve already biked, my goal of 100 km per day was perfect for starting the training on Monday. Only the Mistral wind messed up my plan.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Day 7 Sunday, June 2 Lyon
In my misfortune of not being able to explore the completed sections of the Léman-to-the-Sea cycle route, I’m lucky because today Lyon is celebrating the ViaRhôna. A few kilometers of the route have been set up for a cycling and rollerblading rally, with nautical activities and events. The entire path isn’t paved, but it’s really pleasant to ride. It’s signposted, though not enough—many cyclists get caught in the classic trap where two bike routes intersect, especially when you’re told to take a paved track and there’s no sign to continue on the ViaRhôna. With so many people turning up for this Greenway, I’m worried that those with limited stamina will get discouraged after riding kilometers in the wrong direction due to poor signage. I take advantage of the well-organized activities to go kayaking at the large Miribel Jonage park. I’m really lucky—I can buy the first issue of the magazine that just came out: http://www.revv-valence.org/images/stories/vvv/ViaRhona-DL/Viarhona-dl-2013-05.pdf It’s announced that the cycle route will be finished in 2015. I don’t think so. For example, this village whose land it’s supposed to cross has overturned the municipal council’s support for the bike path by forming an alliance of hunters and environmentalists…
In my misfortune of not being able to explore the completed sections of the Léman-to-the-Sea cycle route, I’m lucky because today Lyon is celebrating the ViaRhôna. A few kilometers of the route have been set up for a cycling and rollerblading rally, with nautical activities and events. The entire path isn’t paved, but it’s really pleasant to ride. It’s signposted, though not enough—many cyclists get caught in the classic trap where two bike routes intersect, especially when you’re told to take a paved track and there’s no sign to continue on the ViaRhôna. With so many people turning up for this Greenway, I’m worried that those with limited stamina will get discouraged after riding kilometers in the wrong direction due to poor signage. I take advantage of the well-organized activities to go kayaking at the large Miribel Jonage park. I’m really lucky—I can buy the first issue of the magazine that just came out: http://www.revv-valence.org/images/stories/vvv/ViaRhona-DL/Viarhona-dl-2013-05.pdf It’s announced that the cycle route will be finished in 2015. I don’t think so. For example, this village whose land it’s supposed to cross has overturned the municipal council’s support for the bike path by forming an alliance of hunters and environmentalists…
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Week of June 3–7, 2013 – Lyon, 113 km
The advantage of having a bike is that I can stay somewhere cheaper than the downtown hotels. To cover the 8 km and get to CPE at Place Bellecour: http://www.cpe.fr/, I use my GPS in bike mode. It knows the bike lanes and the authorized contraflow streets, but the route it suggests is too complicated for me to memorize. Since three-quarters of my trip can be done on Avenue Santy and Avenue Berthelot, I choose that straight-line path on the following days. The first has a bike lane, but the second doesn’t—it’s already taken up by the tram line and two one-way car lanes. Quickly, I decide to take the tram tracks, just like other cyclists do. All you have to do is follow a tram. It pulls away, but I catch up at every stop. You might be tempted to follow it very closely to take advantage of its green wave (the traffic lights prioritize trams), but the trams are very short, and it’s pretty dangerous. It’s better to keep your distance and respect car right-of-way. This is easier because all the cross streets are one-way. You still have to stay alert, though—even if it’s less dangerous than in Bordeaux, where I once saw a bike collide with a tram (see September 13, 2010, from my trip: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=3804254#3804254). Drivers here are pretty tense. They’ve seen their number of lanes reduced, and with the success of Vélov’, bike traffic has increased: http://www.velov.grandlyon.com/. Beyond knowing the subject of the training inside and out, the two instructors are great teachers. Both are interested in my bike trip, and we chat about it during breaks and lunches. The first because he’s traveled the canals by boat, the second because he and his wife are buying a tandem. I end up giving him Claude Bandiera’s guidebook since I don’t think I’ll follow the Rhône before the véloroute is finished (or nearly so). I’m no longer pressed for time and will do it in retirement. Now I’m a few grams lighter. But since my saddlebag and the training documents weigh 1,850 g, I don’t exactly come out ahead when leaving the engineering school, which will soon move into the old prison in the new Confluence district.
To wrap up, I’ll suggest a nighttime tour of Lyon: http://www.trolleydeslumieres.com/restaurant-fr-bus The tour starts at Place Bellecour. We meet at 9 p.m. near the statue of Saint-Exupéry (who was born nearby) and the Little Prince. We set off at 9:15. The downside at this time of year is that it’s still light out, so we don’t get to enjoy the lights of Vieux Lyon, where our route begins. The vehicle is comfortable, and the atmosphere is friendly, but there’s no trolley (which would limit the route if overhead wires existed). It’s actually a diesel bus—still too noisy and vibrating. Still, it wins over passersby (in their cars, on terraces, or on foot) who realize we’re having dinner. This is really where an electric vehicle (with batteries) would make sense—the diesel is just too ugly. For the meal, we have a choice of two starters. You have to pick your main course when you book. The logistics make sense. Before or after the stop on the heights, you choose your dessert based on how fast the service is moving. I don’t have an unforgettable memory of the meal, but I’m won over by the sparkling rosé: http://www.grandsbourgognes.com/bugey-cerdon-rose-methode-ancestrale.html Since it doesn’t seem possible to buy directly from the producer, the next day I order the 9 available bottles from this site. (After a week, I get a promotional email from Grands Bourgognes. I’m surprised by how quickly they sent it—and how slow they are to update me on my order. In response, I learn my package is being returned due to breakage. After 15 days, my undamaged package will be resent. It’s a wine called Désiré. Will it arrive in time for my wife’s birthday? Will there still be bubbles left?)
The advantage of having a bike is that I can stay somewhere cheaper than the downtown hotels. To cover the 8 km and get to CPE at Place Bellecour: http://www.cpe.fr/, I use my GPS in bike mode. It knows the bike lanes and the authorized contraflow streets, but the route it suggests is too complicated for me to memorize. Since three-quarters of my trip can be done on Avenue Santy and Avenue Berthelot, I choose that straight-line path on the following days. The first has a bike lane, but the second doesn’t—it’s already taken up by the tram line and two one-way car lanes. Quickly, I decide to take the tram tracks, just like other cyclists do. All you have to do is follow a tram. It pulls away, but I catch up at every stop. You might be tempted to follow it very closely to take advantage of its green wave (the traffic lights prioritize trams), but the trams are very short, and it’s pretty dangerous. It’s better to keep your distance and respect car right-of-way. This is easier because all the cross streets are one-way. You still have to stay alert, though—even if it’s less dangerous than in Bordeaux, where I once saw a bike collide with a tram (see September 13, 2010, from my trip: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=3804254#3804254). Drivers here are pretty tense. They’ve seen their number of lanes reduced, and with the success of Vélov’, bike traffic has increased: http://www.velov.grandlyon.com/. Beyond knowing the subject of the training inside and out, the two instructors are great teachers. Both are interested in my bike trip, and we chat about it during breaks and lunches. The first because he’s traveled the canals by boat, the second because he and his wife are buying a tandem. I end up giving him Claude Bandiera’s guidebook since I don’t think I’ll follow the Rhône before the véloroute is finished (or nearly so). I’m no longer pressed for time and will do it in retirement. Now I’m a few grams lighter. But since my saddlebag and the training documents weigh 1,850 g, I don’t exactly come out ahead when leaving the engineering school, which will soon move into the old prison in the new Confluence district.
To wrap up, I’ll suggest a nighttime tour of Lyon: http://www.trolleydeslumieres.com/restaurant-fr-bus The tour starts at Place Bellecour. We meet at 9 p.m. near the statue of Saint-Exupéry (who was born nearby) and the Little Prince. We set off at 9:15. The downside at this time of year is that it’s still light out, so we don’t get to enjoy the lights of Vieux Lyon, where our route begins. The vehicle is comfortable, and the atmosphere is friendly, but there’s no trolley (which would limit the route if overhead wires existed). It’s actually a diesel bus—still too noisy and vibrating. Still, it wins over passersby (in their cars, on terraces, or on foot) who realize we’re having dinner. This is really where an electric vehicle (with batteries) would make sense—the diesel is just too ugly. For the meal, we have a choice of two starters. You have to pick your main course when you book. The logistics make sense. Before or after the stop on the heights, you choose your dessert based on how fast the service is moving. I don’t have an unforgettable memory of the meal, but I’m won over by the sparkling rosé: http://www.grandsbourgognes.com/bugey-cerdon-rose-methode-ancestrale.html Since it doesn’t seem possible to buy directly from the producer, the next day I order the 9 available bottles from this site. (After a week, I get a promotional email from Grands Bourgognes. I’m surprised by how quickly they sent it—and how slow they are to update me on my order. In response, I learn my package is being returned due to breakage. After 15 days, my undamaged package will be resent. It’s a wine called Désiré. Will it arrive in time for my wife’s birthday? Will there still be bubbles left?)
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Saturday, June 8th – 671 km by train
Since I booked early, I managed to get a reservation for my bike on the TGV from Lyon to Montpellier for 10 € and an additional 10 € for the Intercité from Montpellier to Toulouse. It’ll be free on the TER to Valence d’Agen. I decided not to leave Friday evening to avoid the crowds with my bicycle during train changes. I arrive at Part-Dieu 45 minutes before the scheduled departure at 07:10. I prefer to have breakfast at the station now that I’m sure I won’t miss the train. I take an elevator down to the platform and reach car 8, where my reservation is. You don’t board the train directly—you have to go downstairs because it’s a double-decker TGV. I confirm that the TGV Duplex doesn’t accept bikes since there’s no designated space. I ask an agent, showing her my ticket. She tells me to wait while she checks with her colleague. After stowing my panniers inside, I wait on the platform to avoid blocking passengers from reaching their seats. Two minutes before departure, I carry my bike up the stairs to the first floor and lean it against the luggage. The conductor explains that this wasn’t the train originally scheduled—it was supposed to be an older model. I tell her it doesn’t bother me, but it might inconvenience other passengers. I even have to explain my situation to some who think I’m in the wrong.
In Montpellier, like everywhere else, the Intercité is made up of old "Corail" cars. I leave my bike to stow my panniers inside. Then, with my handlebar bag and stage bag slung over opposite shoulders, I carry my bike up the two steps, squeezed by the accordion door that’s just waiting to close. Luckily, a man helps me board and tells me I got on from the wrong side. I have to cross the entire corridor that leads to the compartments. He carries my panniers for me. In the rush, I forget my safety flag pole, which always gets stuck during transfers. We sit near the bike storage area, where there’s already a cyclist from Eastern Europe. It’s impossible to hang the bikes because the upper bar with the hooks was torn off. The three of us chat pleasantly until the conductor arrives. Since the Eastern European cyclist doesn’t have a ticket, he can’t avoid the fine. The guy who helped me explains all the tricks to know when you’re on a tight budget. Now, with 10 SNCF fines in a year, you can go to prison. So it’s best to avoid accumulating them. You should anticipate and tell the conductor, for example, that you only have 20 €. For this time, you need to write a letter admitting your mistake and pay a small amount to stop the procedure. It seems that hardship brings people closer together, and I’m also surprised by his analysis of the world’s situation from both social and ecological perspectives. I wish him a good stay in Saint-Girons and success in his project to partner with landscapers to build dry stone walls using traditional methods.
Coincidence: The Toulouse bike association is holding the last planning meeting this Saturday morning for the activist ride along the Pyrenees foothills, which I’ll be joining in early July: http://toulousevelo.le-pic.org/randovelosud2013/ I won’t be able to attend, but since I arrive at Matabiau at 12:10, I’ll share a meal with the organizers. Before leaving Toulouse station, I put on my rain jacket because it’s starting to drizzle. By the time I cross the avenue, it’s pouring. Luckily, I only have a few meters to wait for the Maison du Vélo and its restaurant, *Le Vélo Sentimental*.
A beer is welcome while I wait for the activists. I give Julien Savary, the organizer, a copy of the *Viarhôna* magazine, which he didn’t know had come out. He knows Albert Cessieux, a fellow AF3V member who wrote a long article about his descent of the Rhône. He tells me the greenway project along the Canal du Rhône à Sète has been approved: http://www.af3v.org/
After the meal in a friendly atmosphere, I have 3 hours before the next TER to Valence d’Agen. I’m weighed down with my gear. I had thought about using the new bike station at Matabiau, which just opened on the 6th: http://www.ladepeche.fr/...aces-a-matabiau.html But it’s reserved for subscribers (commuters) and not accessible to passing cyclists. That’s too bad—I would’ve liked to promote it, and I think it’s empty on weekends. Especially since I received an ad inviting me to try it for free. After asking, I find out you need a 30 € deposit to get a badge. A CPE teacher told me that in Lyon, you can access it with a credit card.
Since I saw a "Free WiFi" sign when I got off the Intercité, I settle on a bench on the platform and take out my 10-inch laptop. While uploading photos (you can see the titles—I added them for you—by hovering over them), I continue this story. After 2 hours of work without physical activity, I’m cold. I reattach my bike near the Paul shop and buy a tea and a chocolate fondant. Since it’s burning hot, I add some water from my bottle. But it’s not enough to quench my thirst, so I ask the server to add more water to my tea bag in the cup and also get a pistachio macaron.
On the platform used by TERs that terminate in Agen, there’s a train on the first track and a crowd on the second. That is, until the announcement about the display error causes a migration. At the first stop, 5 people who wanted to get off through the door near the bike hooks are stuck on the train because the door won’t open, and they don’t have time to reach the other end of the car before departure. At the next stop, I advise the people about to get off to use the other exit while the conductor, with her square key, tries to unlock the door. At that moment, a man presses the external control, and the agent’s finger gets crushed between her key and the door frame. She holds back from screaming. After the train starts moving, instead of asking about her condition, I ask if she thinks the door will open next time. I don’t want to end up like the first passengers. It’s impossible to cross the car with the bike and luggage. In the end, I’m more exhausted from a day on the train than from biking…
Since I booked early, I managed to get a reservation for my bike on the TGV from Lyon to Montpellier for 10 € and an additional 10 € for the Intercité from Montpellier to Toulouse. It’ll be free on the TER to Valence d’Agen. I decided not to leave Friday evening to avoid the crowds with my bicycle during train changes. I arrive at Part-Dieu 45 minutes before the scheduled departure at 07:10. I prefer to have breakfast at the station now that I’m sure I won’t miss the train. I take an elevator down to the platform and reach car 8, where my reservation is. You don’t board the train directly—you have to go downstairs because it’s a double-decker TGV. I confirm that the TGV Duplex doesn’t accept bikes since there’s no designated space. I ask an agent, showing her my ticket. She tells me to wait while she checks with her colleague. After stowing my panniers inside, I wait on the platform to avoid blocking passengers from reaching their seats. Two minutes before departure, I carry my bike up the stairs to the first floor and lean it against the luggage. The conductor explains that this wasn’t the train originally scheduled—it was supposed to be an older model. I tell her it doesn’t bother me, but it might inconvenience other passengers. I even have to explain my situation to some who think I’m in the wrong.
In Montpellier, like everywhere else, the Intercité is made up of old "Corail" cars. I leave my bike to stow my panniers inside. Then, with my handlebar bag and stage bag slung over opposite shoulders, I carry my bike up the two steps, squeezed by the accordion door that’s just waiting to close. Luckily, a man helps me board and tells me I got on from the wrong side. I have to cross the entire corridor that leads to the compartments. He carries my panniers for me. In the rush, I forget my safety flag pole, which always gets stuck during transfers. We sit near the bike storage area, where there’s already a cyclist from Eastern Europe. It’s impossible to hang the bikes because the upper bar with the hooks was torn off. The three of us chat pleasantly until the conductor arrives. Since the Eastern European cyclist doesn’t have a ticket, he can’t avoid the fine. The guy who helped me explains all the tricks to know when you’re on a tight budget. Now, with 10 SNCF fines in a year, you can go to prison. So it’s best to avoid accumulating them. You should anticipate and tell the conductor, for example, that you only have 20 €. For this time, you need to write a letter admitting your mistake and pay a small amount to stop the procedure. It seems that hardship brings people closer together, and I’m also surprised by his analysis of the world’s situation from both social and ecological perspectives. I wish him a good stay in Saint-Girons and success in his project to partner with landscapers to build dry stone walls using traditional methods.
Coincidence: The Toulouse bike association is holding the last planning meeting this Saturday morning for the activist ride along the Pyrenees foothills, which I’ll be joining in early July: http://toulousevelo.le-pic.org/randovelosud2013/ I won’t be able to attend, but since I arrive at Matabiau at 12:10, I’ll share a meal with the organizers. Before leaving Toulouse station, I put on my rain jacket because it’s starting to drizzle. By the time I cross the avenue, it’s pouring. Luckily, I only have a few meters to wait for the Maison du Vélo and its restaurant, *Le Vélo Sentimental*.
A beer is welcome while I wait for the activists. I give Julien Savary, the organizer, a copy of the *Viarhôna* magazine, which he didn’t know had come out. He knows Albert Cessieux, a fellow AF3V member who wrote a long article about his descent of the Rhône. He tells me the greenway project along the Canal du Rhône à Sète has been approved: http://www.af3v.org/
After the meal in a friendly atmosphere, I have 3 hours before the next TER to Valence d’Agen. I’m weighed down with my gear. I had thought about using the new bike station at Matabiau, which just opened on the 6th: http://www.ladepeche.fr/...aces-a-matabiau.html But it’s reserved for subscribers (commuters) and not accessible to passing cyclists. That’s too bad—I would’ve liked to promote it, and I think it’s empty on weekends. Especially since I received an ad inviting me to try it for free. After asking, I find out you need a 30 € deposit to get a badge. A CPE teacher told me that in Lyon, you can access it with a credit card.
Since I saw a "Free WiFi" sign when I got off the Intercité, I settle on a bench on the platform and take out my 10-inch laptop. While uploading photos (you can see the titles—I added them for you—by hovering over them), I continue this story. After 2 hours of work without physical activity, I’m cold. I reattach my bike near the Paul shop and buy a tea and a chocolate fondant. Since it’s burning hot, I add some water from my bottle. But it’s not enough to quench my thirst, so I ask the server to add more water to my tea bag in the cup and also get a pistachio macaron.
On the platform used by TERs that terminate in Agen, there’s a train on the first track and a crowd on the second. That is, until the announcement about the display error causes a migration. At the first stop, 5 people who wanted to get off through the door near the bike hooks are stuck on the train because the door won’t open, and they don’t have time to reach the other end of the car before departure. At the next stop, I advise the people about to get off to use the other exit while the conductor, with her square key, tries to unlock the door. At that moment, a man presses the external control, and the agent’s finger gets crushed between her key and the door frame. She holds back from screaming. After the train starts moving, instead of asking about her condition, I ask if she thinks the door will open next time. I don’t want to end up like the first passengers. It’s impossible to cross the car with the bike and luggage. In the end, I’m more exhausted from a day on the train than from biking…
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Summary:
Another 600 km covered without a flat tire. However, my panniers started to crack, and I haven’t heard back from my retailer about whether they can be repaired. If I managed it, it’s because I was off work the week before my internship. Since I work 40 hours for 7 weeks, I don’t work the 8th week. Thanks to the socialists and the 35-hour workweek—so often criticized—I was able to support hoteliers and restaurant owners along my route. Those who suggest working more, especially by cutting public holidays, should consider the tourism activity generated for others by days off for some. In the end, I’m happy with my trip, even if I didn’t reach my goal in the time I’d set. Of course, better weather would’ve helped, and more bike lanes would’ve made the route safer. I could’ve enjoyed the Viarhôna more by taking the train to my internship and biking back—it would’ve been enough to send the documents via La Poste.
What was the essential accessory for this journey? I’d say the rearview mirror, then willpower, and above all, motivation. Everything our elected officials aren’t lacking when it comes to the energy transition, inviting us to the debate: http://www.midipyrenees.fr/...ansition-Energetique
Here’s the letter I sent to Martin Malvy:
Gilles ROULAND 4 rue Pierre Perret 82400 Valence d’Agen June 14, 2013
To Mr. President of the Regional Council of Midi-Pyrénées
You stated in the press that Midi-Pyrénées is the most advanced region in the energy transition.
Indeed, investments have been made for TER trains, and train access is easier thanks to subscriptions, reduced fares for young people, the unemployed, and weekend travelers. I congratulate you on the bike path along the Garonne lateral canal and other greenways reserved for soft mobility. Bravo for creating the bike station at Matabiau. However, it’s not accessible to passing travelers. On Saturday the 8th, in Toulouse for a bike association meeting, I couldn’t try it even though I would’ve liked to promote it. It’s only available to subscribers. It makes sense that they have priority for their daily commute, but I assume it stays empty on weekends. In Lyon, you can access it with a credit card. Still, a lot remains to be done to make bike access to trains easier (lack of information, steps and narrow doors, bikes banned in TGV Duplex…). For example, no train accepts bicycles between Toulouse and Biarritz, forcing cyclists to go through Bordeaux. These two modes of transport should be combined to enable the energy transition.
I’m also surprised that my region doesn’t offer aid for purchasing an electric vehicle, while Alsace or Poitou-Charentes, for example, encourage buying clean vehicles. I’d like to buy a RENAULT Zoé. Of course, its range is limited, but above all, the manufacturer only allows recharging the batteries with a specific cable matching public charging stations. It’s very restrictive because you can’t recharge at family’s, friends’, or even at a hotel on a standard electrical outlet. Since there are hardly any public charging stations, it would be harder for me today to go from Valence d’Agen to Lyon with a Zoé than by bike, as I just did for my internship last week. Yet by bicycle, it’s not easy and sometimes very dangerous (due to lack of bike lanes). Even returning by train is complicated. I recounted this third professional trip by bike here: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=6005558#60055...I describe all the difficulties I faced in my effort to reduce the carbon footprint of this trip. We must stop believing that pollution is acceptable because it’s for work. I therefore ask you to support these pioneers—early electric vehicle users—by offering an incentive grant to take the leap while the infrastructure doesn’t yet exist.
Looking forward to your response, please accept, Mr. President of the Regional Council, the expression of my respectful regards.
I’m glad that in the land of soccer, Brazilians are revolting against the World Cup organization. It’s clear there are better ways to spend 11 billion. For my part, I preferred to donate to the outraged: http://www.roosevelt2012.fr/
Another 600 km covered without a flat tire. However, my panniers started to crack, and I haven’t heard back from my retailer about whether they can be repaired. If I managed it, it’s because I was off work the week before my internship. Since I work 40 hours for 7 weeks, I don’t work the 8th week. Thanks to the socialists and the 35-hour workweek—so often criticized—I was able to support hoteliers and restaurant owners along my route. Those who suggest working more, especially by cutting public holidays, should consider the tourism activity generated for others by days off for some. In the end, I’m happy with my trip, even if I didn’t reach my goal in the time I’d set. Of course, better weather would’ve helped, and more bike lanes would’ve made the route safer. I could’ve enjoyed the Viarhôna more by taking the train to my internship and biking back—it would’ve been enough to send the documents via La Poste.
What was the essential accessory for this journey? I’d say the rearview mirror, then willpower, and above all, motivation. Everything our elected officials aren’t lacking when it comes to the energy transition, inviting us to the debate: http://www.midipyrenees.fr/...ansition-Energetique
Here’s the letter I sent to Martin Malvy:
Gilles ROULAND 4 rue Pierre Perret 82400 Valence d’Agen June 14, 2013
To Mr. President of the Regional Council of Midi-Pyrénées
You stated in the press that Midi-Pyrénées is the most advanced region in the energy transition.
Indeed, investments have been made for TER trains, and train access is easier thanks to subscriptions, reduced fares for young people, the unemployed, and weekend travelers. I congratulate you on the bike path along the Garonne lateral canal and other greenways reserved for soft mobility. Bravo for creating the bike station at Matabiau. However, it’s not accessible to passing travelers. On Saturday the 8th, in Toulouse for a bike association meeting, I couldn’t try it even though I would’ve liked to promote it. It’s only available to subscribers. It makes sense that they have priority for their daily commute, but I assume it stays empty on weekends. In Lyon, you can access it with a credit card. Still, a lot remains to be done to make bike access to trains easier (lack of information, steps and narrow doors, bikes banned in TGV Duplex…). For example, no train accepts bicycles between Toulouse and Biarritz, forcing cyclists to go through Bordeaux. These two modes of transport should be combined to enable the energy transition.
I’m also surprised that my region doesn’t offer aid for purchasing an electric vehicle, while Alsace or Poitou-Charentes, for example, encourage buying clean vehicles. I’d like to buy a RENAULT Zoé. Of course, its range is limited, but above all, the manufacturer only allows recharging the batteries with a specific cable matching public charging stations. It’s very restrictive because you can’t recharge at family’s, friends’, or even at a hotel on a standard electrical outlet. Since there are hardly any public charging stations, it would be harder for me today to go from Valence d’Agen to Lyon with a Zoé than by bike, as I just did for my internship last week. Yet by bicycle, it’s not easy and sometimes very dangerous (due to lack of bike lanes). Even returning by train is complicated. I recounted this third professional trip by bike here: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=6005558#60055...I describe all the difficulties I faced in my effort to reduce the carbon footprint of this trip. We must stop believing that pollution is acceptable because it’s for work. I therefore ask you to support these pioneers—early electric vehicle users—by offering an incentive grant to take the leap while the infrastructure doesn’t yet exist.
Looking forward to your response, please accept, Mr. President of the Regional Council, the expression of my respectful regards.
I’m glad that in the land of soccer, Brazilians are revolting against the World Cup organization. It’s clear there are better ways to spend 11 billion. For my part, I preferred to donate to the outraged: http://www.roosevelt2012.fr/
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
My Second Advocacy Bike Ride:
After the 2011 trip that let me follow the Lot River for 500 km: http://toulousevelo.le-pic.org/velotroute2011/
And the 2012 one I couldn’t join: http://toulousevelo.le-pic.org/randovelosud2012/
I met up with 40 bike-campers in Biarritz: http://toulousevelo.le-pic.org/randovelosud2013/
We left on July 1st from the cool Atlantic coast and, after 700 km, reached the Mediterranean in Port-Barcarès on the 12th, riding 50 to 60 km a day. That was enough with our gear (tent, sleeping pad, sleeping bag—my bike weighed 36 kg). Every day, we met with local officials to ask for signage on the *véloroute* along the Pyrenees foothills and safer routes so families can use them. This V81 is part of the national program: http://www.af3v.org/...carte-detaillee.html
Some sections already exist as *Voie Verte*, especially on old railway lines: http://www.af3v.org/...e-VVV-.html?voie=279
But it’s important for mayors and regional councilors to see that loaded cyclists are ready to ride its 620 km to encourage them to help build it. We also met journalists and local cycling clubs who often joined us for the day, did tourist and cultural visits, so our schedule was packed—we had to get up at 6 a.m. to eat, pack the tent, and load everything into our panniers.
Julien Savary, vice-president of the Toulouse cycling association and southern delegate for AF3V, spent a year organizing this advocacy ride.
The route (with GPS coordinates), maps, campgrounds, lodging, bike shops, and more are all available for download on the site.
It’s a gorgeous route along the Pyrenees, with a high point at 670 m—I highly recommend checking it out.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Hello Facteur 4,
Do you know if there’s a collective or a patronage group to support replanting trees along the Canal du Midi?
While we’re at it, why not make a small contribution to this cause...
Cheers, Gilles
Hi Degiv, To finally answer your question (above): Voies Navigables de France has just launched a website to contribute to replanting the Canal du Midi: http://www.replantonslecanaldumidi.fr/fr Have a great weekend
Hi Degiv, To finally answer your question (above): Voies Navigables de France has just launched a website to contribute to replanting the Canal du Midi: http://www.replantonslecanaldumidi.fr/fr Have a great weekend
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
It took me 2 reminders to get a response to my letter from June 28th addressed to the President of my Region. (See the text a bit above).
After the acknowledgment of receipt on July 1st confirming that my question was about electric vehicles, I received a reply that only addressed train + bike.
And finally, I found out from the letter on November 13th that I wouldn’t get any help from the region for buying an electric vehicle, unlike in Alsace or Poitou-Charentes.
Still, I went ahead and ordered a RENAULT Zoé before the state subsidy dropped from 7,000 € to 6,300 €.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Sète in seven days.
Spring’s arrival wakes up the cyclists.
Even though I still bike to work, with this rainy winter, I was tempted to use my Zoé a few times. My wife and three kids found it really comfortable, and we covered 2,000 km in four months—way below cost-effectiveness, but that wasn’t the point.
My son will use it every day for his end-of-second-year IUT internship. That’ll help offset the 79 € monthly battery rental and avoid greenhouse gas emissions.
For the first time, I didn’t set off alone along the canal. I accompanied a young retiree who’d been dreaming of discovering it by bike for years.
We were lucky with the weather. We left Valence d’Agen on Saturday, April 5, and arrived in Sète on Tuesday, April 8, early in the afternoon after 365 km made very difficult by the state of the towpath.
We only had a few drops of rain on the last kilometers of the Canal du Midi and rain at the Phare des Onglous. The mud would’ve made progress impossible on the towpath—even without it, my companion fell twice. Many plane trees have been cut down, and the uprooting of their roots causes major unevenness. We saw workers burning trunks, branches, and roots to destroy the ravaging fungus. One of them, lifted above the water by a cherry picker, was trying to retrieve a branch carried away by the weak current. With a rope weighted by a lead sinker, he managed to bring it back before it drifted too far.
I don’t know if the goal was to prevent it from obstructing navigation or, more likely, to stop the spread of canker stain.
When I told the owner of a guesthouse where we stayed in Minervois that he might receive fewer cyclists, he wasn’t worried and told me that the plane tree felling should stop with the discovery of a vaccine:
http://www.midilibre.fr/2013/12/09/aude-l-etat-se-fait-desirer-pour-tester-les-vaccins-contre-le-chancre-colore,794871.php
http://www.midilibre.fr/2013/09/27/canal-du-midi-un-vaccin-pour-sauver-les-platanes,762802.php
http://www.lindependant.fr/2013/10/03/et-s-il-existait-un-vaccin-pour-sauver-les-platanes-du-canal,1795781.php
http://www.ladepeche.fr/article/2013/11/17/1754635-espoir-vaccin-platanes-malades-canal-midi.html
Given the state of the towpath, we decided to put on our yellow vests and return by road. The hotel owner in Sète kindly let me use her computer at reception. Viamichelin suggested a bike route from Sète to Toulouse: 217 km in 15.5 hours. Since her printer wasn’t working, I copied it down.
Before we walked up Mont St Clair to enjoy the stunning azure panorama of the island and dined on oysters from the Étang de Thau and seafood, my friend bought a road map (and I bought postcards). I highlighted the route before breakfast (despite his reluctance) so we wouldn’t have trouble finding the way, which partly goes through small villages.
We started on the Voie Verte along Plage du Lido, which stretches for 10 km. As the bike signage gradually disappeared, we had to cross a highway by climbing over a double guardrail to reach Agde’s city center. To get to Béziers, we temporarily left the Viamichelin route—it doesn’t know about greenways (no one pays to include them in GPS)—and took the 15 km of bike path. That’s where we had our last picnic by the Canal du Midi.
It remained ever-present on our route, which started with very smooth but busy country roads. A southwesterly wind hit us all afternoon and made progress really tough. We estimated it reached 70 km/h before learning it’s called the *Cers* in Minervois and shares with the *Marin* the privilege of constantly sweeping the region.
Luckily, my partner, who was in great shape, "pulled" me along, shielding me from the wind.
On the second day, it was my turn to drag him through the succession of climbs (showing us the snowy Pyrenees peaks) and descents of the Montagne Noire, with the highest point at Les Cammazes (where the canal is fed by the *rigole de la montagne*). Then we descended to Revel, admiring Lac de St Ferréol, and finally reached Toulouse via St Orens.
Of course, we returned to Valence d’Agen via the bike path along the Canal Latéral à la Garonne.
The last day was tough for my travel companion, who, despite a gel saddle cover, suffered in pain.
In total: 670 km in 7 days. That might seem like little, but considering the loaded MTBs, the degraded towpath, the wind, and the elevation changes, it’s a lot.
I didn’t detail the route to Sète since I’ve described it many times before (see previous pages). My friend loved it. I’ve biked the Canal du Midi 5 or 6 times but don’t plan to return for another decade—the time needed to complete the Voie Verte. I don’t think merging the Midi-Pyrénées and Languedoc-Roussillon regions, as the new government wants, will speed things up. Maybe by eliminating the *départements*?
That way, the Aude wouldn’t be responsible for 140 km of towpaths. But who would fund the work? The region, France, Europe? I’ve always said the canal between the two seas—a route of international interest (with huge economic, cultural, and tourist potential)—needs a global vision. But I don’t think it’ll happen faster.
I’d even advise against biking the Canal du Midi (except between Toulouse Port Lauragais and Béziers Portiragnes) unless you like rough rides or have a fully suspended MTB with no luggage.
I recommend the Voie Verte along the Canal Latéral à la Garonne and its 170 km of paved path, which, after Bordeaux, invites you to join the 600 km of bike paths in the Gironde.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
To counter my pessimism, some excellent news: Julien Savary from the Association Deux Pieds Deux Roues (formerly Vélo Association) (in Toulouse) (Regional Delegation of AF3V Midi-Pyrénées and Languedoc-Roussillon) took part in the first official meeting of the Steering Committee for the Canal des Deux Mers Cycle Route (V80) itinerary, which was held on April 25, 2014, in Montauban.
The departments of Aude and Hérault, where large sections are still missing, are members of this Itinerary Committee and seem determined to speed up the development work. Surprisingly, Haute-Garonne, where everything is already done, is absent, as is the regional council of Languedoc-Roussillon.
I immediately wrote to the President of the Haute-Garonne General Council:To Monsieur le Président du Conseil Général de la Haute Garonne Subject: Bike paths and cycle routes
I use my bicycle every day of the year to get from home to work. I don’t deserve much credit for it since the trip is only 6 km under pleasant riding conditions.
I also go on bike vacations. To inspire others and show how easy it is to travel hundreds of kilometers, I’ve shared accounts of my various trips on Voyage Forum: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=1000920#10009...I’ve ridden along the Canal Latéral à la Garonne and the Canal du Midi several times. I know how different it is to ride a loaded bike (30 kg) on a dirt towpath with stones and roots compared to a paved path. So I congratulate your department on the creation and maintenance of the bike path along the Canal Latéral à la Garonne and the Canal du Midi, which are rewarded by high usage. During my trips, I’ve stayed in Toulouse several times, where I appreciate the bus lanes and the contraflow bike lanes on one-way streets. I took it a step further by using my bike for a work trip. I wouldn’t have considered it without such infrastructure: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=2799841#27998...Last year, taking advantage of the absence of cars on towpaths, I safely and harmoniously rode from Valence d’Agen to Lyon along the Canal de Garonne, the Canal du Midi, and then from Sète to the Rhône. I attended a week-long training course and returned by train: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=6006514#60065...So I don’t understand why Haute-Garonne isn’t part of the steering committee for the Canal des Deux Mers Cycle Route (V80). You were the first to develop the section of this route that crosses your department. I’m dismayed when I recall renting your beautiful greenway between Lac de Lenclas and the Saint-Ferréol Dam, compared to the section of the Rigole de la Plaine in Aude. I urge you to join this fantastic cycle route project. Not only for local cyclists, French and international tourists, but perhaps also for an unexpected impact on commuting. Looking forward to your response and hoping you can support the development of sustainable transport, please accept my respectful regards.
While waiting for a reply, I’ll temporarily leave my favorite canal to ride along some rivers:
http://www.af3v.org/Nouvel-article,428.html
http://af3v.org/croisiere-cycliste-2014/
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
The cycling cruise has safely arrived in Nantes, where the metropolis welcomed us at the Île aux Machines:
http://www.ouest-france.fr/...leurope-velo-2704105
I was able to watch the fireworks from the bridge (in Nantes).
On the 15th, I took a direct train that accepts bikes to Agen.
On May 30th, we were 19 cyclists from Hong Kong, 6 from the USA, 2 from New Zealand, a few Brits, Belgians, and around fifteen French folks starting the EuroVelo 6 in Vienna. Two Handibike tricycles coming from the Black Sea joined us. For a theoretical 2,222 km to Nantes, we ended up covering over 2,800 km. This was due to accommodations sometimes being far from the route, sightseeing, and plenty of wrong turns. Even though the EUROVELO 6 is signposted, like all cycling routes, it very rarely has advance signage. So, you might miss a turn, especially if it’s hidden or missing. Sometimes towns are mentioned on signs, and even more rarely, distances. See the photos (the title appears when you hover over them). But you’re never told whether you’re heading east or west, and I once met one of our Chinese cyclists who, not knowing our Latin characters, was following the six circled stars of Europe in the wrong direction. I’d suggest, for example, green dots to indicate we’re heading toward the Atlantic and red ones for the Black Sea direction. This would let us ride in peace and enjoy the stunning landscapes and magnificent monuments we encountered along the Danube for 1,000 km. The same goes for the Loire à Vélo. I had just visited the Château de Chaumont-sur-Loire with Cynthia, an American from Rhode Island riding a recumbent bike. While following the route to Chenonceau, we ended up at the other entrance of the Château de Chaumont after a 15 km detour because a directional sign was missing. We had to climb back up the hills and choose a direction with no indication. It’s worth noting that the route rarely follows the Loire itself, and the signage often sends you up into the countryside to avoid bothering cars on the riverbanks. I don’t think the young mom pushing her bike with luggage and a child trailer up a 10%+ hill imagined the Loire à Vélo like this. Unfortunately, it’s not very family-friendly, even though I met a grandpa who’s been doing a section of it with his grandkids for the third year in a row.
On May 30th, we were 19 cyclists from Hong Kong, 6 from the USA, 2 from New Zealand, a few Brits, Belgians, and around fifteen French folks starting the EuroVelo 6 in Vienna. Two Handibike tricycles coming from the Black Sea joined us. For a theoretical 2,222 km to Nantes, we ended up covering over 2,800 km. This was due to accommodations sometimes being far from the route, sightseeing, and plenty of wrong turns. Even though the EUROVELO 6 is signposted, like all cycling routes, it very rarely has advance signage. So, you might miss a turn, especially if it’s hidden or missing. Sometimes towns are mentioned on signs, and even more rarely, distances. See the photos (the title appears when you hover over them). But you’re never told whether you’re heading east or west, and I once met one of our Chinese cyclists who, not knowing our Latin characters, was following the six circled stars of Europe in the wrong direction. I’d suggest, for example, green dots to indicate we’re heading toward the Atlantic and red ones for the Black Sea direction. This would let us ride in peace and enjoy the stunning landscapes and magnificent monuments we encountered along the Danube for 1,000 km. The same goes for the Loire à Vélo. I had just visited the Château de Chaumont-sur-Loire with Cynthia, an American from Rhode Island riding a recumbent bike. While following the route to Chenonceau, we ended up at the other entrance of the Château de Chaumont after a 15 km detour because a directional sign was missing. We had to climb back up the hills and choose a direction with no indication. It’s worth noting that the route rarely follows the Loire itself, and the signage often sends you up into the countryside to avoid bothering cars on the riverbanks. I don’t think the young mom pushing her bike with luggage and a child trailer up a 10%+ hill imagined the Loire à Vélo like this. Unfortunately, it’s not very family-friendly, even though I met a grandpa who’s been doing a section of it with his grandkids for the third year in a row.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I received a response to my letter to the President of the Haute-Garonne Departmental Council (see above).
I understand that this department doesn’t want to pay for the creation of the greenway between the Two Seas in departments that, unlike Haute-Garonne, haven’t yet built a bike path along the canal—but it could have participated in the steering committee under that specific condition.
I didn’t receive the documentation mentioned in the letter, but I assume it’s this:
http://tourisme.haute-garonne.fr/FR/la_haute-garonne_a_velo/un_departement_cyclable.aspx
I hope I’ll have better luck with the letter I sent to Ségolène Royal:
GillesROULAND to Madam the Minister
4 rue Pierre Perret of Ecology, Sustainable Development
82400 VALENCE d’AGEN and Energy
Subject: Cycling and environmental protection.
Madam,
I’m sending you this letter by email to make the links active. But since this method is considered minor, I’m also mailing it via La Poste so it reaches you and I receive a well-reasoned response. I use my bicycle every day of the year to commute from home to work. It’s not a big deal since the trip is only 6 km in pleasant riding conditions.
I also go on cycling vacations. To inspire others and show how easy it is to travel hundreds of kilometers, I’ve documented my various trips on Voyage Forum: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=1000920#1000920 I took it a step further by cycling to work for a business trip. I wouldn’t have considered it without safe cycling infrastructure.
Finally, taking advantage of car-free towpaths, I cycled safely and in harmony with nature from Valence d’Agen to Lyon along the Canal de Garonne, Canal du Midi, and from Sète to the Rhône. I did a week-long training course and returned by train: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=6006514#6006514
I ask you to do everything in your power to promote soft mobility and make it accessible to everyone. For example, while following the Loire à Vélo route, I saw a mother pushing her bike with luggage and a child trailer up a slope steeper than 10%. I don’t think she expected such gradients. To keep bikes from interfering with cars on the Loire’s banks, cyclists are directed onto the hills in the countryside. This discourages travelers and their children from cycling. I also ask you to implement the kilometer allowance, currently reserved for motor vehicles (the more polluting the vehicle, the higher the rate—a real paradox), and to improve bike access on trains and public transport.
I recently participated in a ride organized by AF3V: http://www.af3v.org/Nouvel-article,428.html Its goal was to connect Vienne Vélocity 2013 to Nantes, which will host Vélocity 2015.
While traveling through Austria and Germany, where glass bottles are still reused, something struck me. When I bought a drink for 1 € in a plastic bottle, I paid 1.40 € due to the deposit. This way, all plastic bottles—big and small—are returned to the store (I noticed the same for aluminum cans in Quebec). If your role as Minister of the Environment matters to you, you could implement this highly effective recycling method in France. By keeping bottles out of our streets, ditches, and rivers, you’d help stop feeding the sixth continent.
I don’t understand why the Ecotax, which had the support of all our elected officials, was abolished. It would be enough to apply it to all products based on the harm caused by their transport—so, for example, chickens “raised” in China wouldn’t keep undercutting those from Brittany.
Finally, if you truly want to leave your mark in government, you should push Europe to tax kerosene in proportion to its pollution. It’s outrageous that the most harmful mode of transport is completely tax-exempt. This would help France regain its historic influence in defending the public interest.
You should also ban Departmental Councils from subsidizing low-cost airlines to set up in their airports. This is the case with Ryanair, which employs staff in France under Irish labor law. It’s appalling that local tax money funds such companies and the most polluting mode of transport, distorting competition with trains.
These measures would certainly benefit the planet more than shutting down nuclear power plants, for which studies and investments have already been made and which can still operate safely for decades while we wait for better alternatives.
Hoping you’ll bring real change for the environment, please accept, Madam Minister, my respectful regards.
I hope I’ll have better luck with the letter I sent to Ségolène Royal:
GillesROULAND to Madam the Minister
4 rue Pierre Perret of Ecology, Sustainable Development
82400 VALENCE d’AGEN and Energy
Subject: Cycling and environmental protection.
Madam,
I’m sending you this letter by email to make the links active. But since this method is considered minor, I’m also mailing it via La Poste so it reaches you and I receive a well-reasoned response. I use my bicycle every day of the year to commute from home to work. It’s not a big deal since the trip is only 6 km in pleasant riding conditions.
I also go on cycling vacations. To inspire others and show how easy it is to travel hundreds of kilometers, I’ve documented my various trips on Voyage Forum: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=1000920#1000920 I took it a step further by cycling to work for a business trip. I wouldn’t have considered it without safe cycling infrastructure.
Finally, taking advantage of car-free towpaths, I cycled safely and in harmony with nature from Valence d’Agen to Lyon along the Canal de Garonne, Canal du Midi, and from Sète to the Rhône. I did a week-long training course and returned by train: http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=6006514#6006514
I ask you to do everything in your power to promote soft mobility and make it accessible to everyone. For example, while following the Loire à Vélo route, I saw a mother pushing her bike with luggage and a child trailer up a slope steeper than 10%. I don’t think she expected such gradients. To keep bikes from interfering with cars on the Loire’s banks, cyclists are directed onto the hills in the countryside. This discourages travelers and their children from cycling. I also ask you to implement the kilometer allowance, currently reserved for motor vehicles (the more polluting the vehicle, the higher the rate—a real paradox), and to improve bike access on trains and public transport.
I recently participated in a ride organized by AF3V: http://www.af3v.org/Nouvel-article,428.html Its goal was to connect Vienne Vélocity 2013 to Nantes, which will host Vélocity 2015.
While traveling through Austria and Germany, where glass bottles are still reused, something struck me. When I bought a drink for 1 € in a plastic bottle, I paid 1.40 € due to the deposit. This way, all plastic bottles—big and small—are returned to the store (I noticed the same for aluminum cans in Quebec). If your role as Minister of the Environment matters to you, you could implement this highly effective recycling method in France. By keeping bottles out of our streets, ditches, and rivers, you’d help stop feeding the sixth continent.
I don’t understand why the Ecotax, which had the support of all our elected officials, was abolished. It would be enough to apply it to all products based on the harm caused by their transport—so, for example, chickens “raised” in China wouldn’t keep undercutting those from Brittany.
Finally, if you truly want to leave your mark in government, you should push Europe to tax kerosene in proportion to its pollution. It’s outrageous that the most harmful mode of transport is completely tax-exempt. This would help France regain its historic influence in defending the public interest.
You should also ban Departmental Councils from subsidizing low-cost airlines to set up in their airports. This is the case with Ryanair, which employs staff in France under Irish labor law. It’s appalling that local tax money funds such companies and the most polluting mode of transport, distorting competition with trains.
These measures would certainly benefit the planet more than shutting down nuclear power plants, for which studies and investments have already been made and which can still operate safely for decades while we wait for better alternatives.
Hoping you’ll bring real change for the environment, please accept, Madam Minister, my respectful regards.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
After nearly a year, I finally got my Vaude panniers back from Germany, where the manufacturer refused to repair them.
They were only 4 years old and didn’t tear, but the fabric detached from the rigid base (see photo).
Luckily, Cyclable Toulouse offered to sell me another pair of rear panniers at half price (to compensate me) for my Vienne-Nantes trip.
Nantes Métropole video:
http://www.nantesmetropole.fr/actualite/webtv/la-croisiere-cycliste-en-premices-de-velo-city-70991.kjsp?RH=WEB_FR
I also bought a rear rack and front panniers there for the first time. It helps lower the center of gravity and stabilize the bike. With my 5 Vaude panniers (bike photo above), I totaled 18 kg of luggage. Other cyclists were much less loaded—except for the campers.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Here's the response to my letter (see previous message) to the Minister of Ecology, Sustainable Development, and Energy.
Hoping for a more detailed answer about biking...
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
270 km in 3 days.
My friend, with whom I went to Sète in April, suggested we travel along the lateral canal of the Garonne toward Bordeaux.
Tuesday, October 28 – Valence d’Agen 08:30 to Blaignac 16:30 – 107 km
We’re enjoying a lovely Indian summer in the Southwest, and the canal is showing off its most beautiful colors. After crossing Agen and its canal bridge, we reach the port of Buzet, where boats can head down the Baïse. We take advantage of the picnic tables nicely shaded by honeysuckle arbors to have lunch. Then, a favorable southeast wind helps us approach the end of the canal. Once in Gironde, signs constantly indicate "road closed." Kudos to the department for maintaining the Greenway by redoing the surface, but these signs—left up, I assume, for the entire duration of the work—are excessive since we had no trouble biking. It would make more sense to close the road only when machinery is present and the asphalt is being poured. In Blaignac, a guest room located along the bike path invites us to stop before the canal’s end: http://www.gites-gironde.com/...temid=54&lan...
Since only a large gîte is available, the Belgian-born owner offers it to us at the price of a guest room (70 €). But we won’t use all its amenities—not even the TV (too tired)—and the big space is cold (though we don’t turn on the heaters). A room would’ve been more suitable for two cyclists who only need a good shower and a comfy bed. We would’ve preferred being offered the Belgian beers we drink while the Luxembourgish-born hostess prepares our beds. They’re as shocked as I am that bottles aren’t returnable in France. On top of that, they’re subject to household waste weighing and very selective trash collection.
We dine with our hosts (14 € + wine) and quickly drift off to sleep.
After a very pleasant included breakfast, we’re glad we stopped here instead of facing Langon’s traffic at dusk in search of a hotel, which would’ve likely been a bit cheaper.
Wednesday, October 29 – Blaignac 08:30 to Mas d’Agenais 17:00 – 78 km
It’s in Castets-en-Dorthe that the lateral canal of the Garonne flows into the river, which is then navigable to Bordeaux and toward the estuary. We make it to the port, but the harbormaster’s office is closed. I won’t be able to pass along the greeting I was asked to give by the Captain of Briare, whom I met during the Vienne-Nantes bike tour. Navigation is already slowing down in autumn.
We cross the Garonne before following it along a dirt path, passable thanks to the drought. It leads us to Saint-Macaire. Then we take the road and the bridge to return to the left bank in Langon. We do some quick shopping for our picnic and start heading back through the hills. We pass through Auros and Aillas. Our progress is slower, and the climbs warm us up. I enjoy the coolness of Lac de Sigalens before lunch. Then we continue through the vineyards, heading to Cocumont and then Sainte-Marthe, choosing Mas d’Agenais for the night. There are no more hotels, and after checking with the town hall, we only have two guest rooms to choose from: one in town for 90 € and another in the countryside for 80 €. We pick the latter, which means backtracking after stopping at the grocery store. The owner, on the phone, tells us she doesn’t provide meals. She asks if it’s really us she saw when we arrived in Mas d’Agenais. I hadn’t dared stop the woman on her bike to ask about accommodations, not wanting to interrupt her, and she hesitated to offer hers when she saw us with our loaded bikes.
We’re warmly welcomed into this large, old family farmhouse: http://www.gites-de-france-47.com/...Garonne-47G...
The owner not only warms up our brick of soup but also offers us rice to thicken it, and we have a pleasant chat with her and her partner, an artist painter.
They’re registered on http://www.canal-et-voie-verte.com/...spots%2Fho...
and host many cyclists.
Thursday, October 30 – Mas d’Agenais 09:00 to Valence d’Agen 16:00 – 95 km We stop to admire Rembrandt’s Christ http://www.sudouest.fr/...andt-325884-4397.php Then we quickly find the towpath again, but this time the southeast wind is against us. One last picnic by the canal in Sérignac-sur-Garonne, and it’s time to head back. My companion is still sore but already dreaming of our next destinations.
Thursday, October 30 – Mas d’Agenais 09:00 to Valence d’Agen 16:00 – 95 km We stop to admire Rembrandt’s Christ http://www.sudouest.fr/...andt-325884-4397.php Then we quickly find the towpath again, but this time the southeast wind is against us. One last picnic by the canal in Sérignac-sur-Garonne, and it’s time to head back. My companion is still sore but already dreaming of our next destinations.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
During a family trip to my hometown, I noticed how involved the greater Rouen community is in developing soft transport options. Large coaches now accept bikes—admittedly only during off-peak hours, but it’s a first stepturn of the wheel (see photo). They also offer parking and charging for electric vehicles across 20 stations:
http://www.la-crea.fr/...ation-des-bornes.pdf
Plus, the Seine-Maritime General Council is heavily involved in creating and promoting the Avenue Verte: http://www.avenuevertelondonparis.com/
In their magazine, they note that since the start of the year, over 10,000 cycle tourists have taken the Transmanche route. The presence of 67 "Accueil Vélo" providers has boosted this tourism growth, along with many foreign tour operators featuring this destination.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
To encourage cyclists to brave the December chill, 8 communes in the Gers invite you to ride the Ronde des Crèches, which this year has the theme "Tales and Legends." It's an 80 km route that's quite hilly but really enjoyable:
http://www.larondedescreches.org/
You can also check out the round of sites to visit and restaurants along the way.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Nothing is ever settled, it seems—the Quebec government no longer wants to maintain the cycling routes known as the Route Verte:
http://www.velo.qc.ca/...emble-des-maintenant
Provincial MPs seem more responsive to emails than our representatives and quicker to act.
My message sent today:
Hello,
I live in southwestern France.
I use my bicycle every day of the year to commute from home to work. I don’t deserve much credit since the trip is only 6 km in pleasant riding conditions. I also combine it with the train for work trips.
I also go on cycling vacations. To inspire others and show how easy it is to travel hundreds of kilometers, I’ve shared accounts of my various trips on Voyage Forum:
http://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=1000920#10009...I discovered your beautiful country by covering 1,570 km on its Route Verte.
I urge you to do everything in your power to preserve this wonderful tool for exploration using a sustainable mode of transport.
Looking forward to your response, best regards.
And here’s the reply I received the same day:
Hello Mr. Rouland,
Thank you for your interest in our beautiful Route Verte. We’re doing our best with stakeholders to keep this exceptional route intact in response to the government’s decision.
Thank you for your support, and I’d like to take this opportunity to wish you happy holidays.
Sincerely, Matthew L. Therrien | Political Attaché Gaspé MP’s Office 10, Boul. Ste-Anne Ouest | 1st floor, office I Ste-Anne-des-Monts (Quebec) G4V 1P3 Tel.: 418 763-2389 | Fax: 418 764-2709 |
Hello Mr. Rouland,
Thank you for your interest in our beautiful Route Verte. We’re doing our best with stakeholders to keep this exceptional route intact in response to the government’s decision.
Thank you for your support, and I’d like to take this opportunity to wish you happy holidays.
Sincerely, Matthew L. Therrien | Political Attaché Gaspé MP’s Office 10, Boul. Ste-Anne Ouest | 1st floor, office I Ste-Anne-des-Monts (Quebec) G4V 1P3 Tel.: 418 763-2389 | Fax: 418 764-2709 |
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Having a continuous 193 km paved cycle path along the Canal latéral à la Garonne is a real comfort for winter cycling. Beyond the popularity of this Voie Verte because it’s flat and car-free, it also keeps you away from the ruts that form on dirt paths. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t some traps.
While traveling from Malause with two friends, we reach Moissac, and as usual, I decide to continue along the Voie Verte via the banks of the Tarn (see photo). It starts as a dirt path, then becomes a cemented section. I don’t worry when this slab is later covered by a puddle of water. But as we keep going, it hides the mud beneath, making it harder and harder to move forward until we come to a complete stop. Forced to dismount under the applause of about a hundred high school students on a school trip watching us from the terrace of the mill. Our legs then sink into 30 cm of silt brought by a flood of the Tarn. Only the third cyclist avoids the trap by turning back.
Luckily, we find an outdoor tap at the Uvarium to clean ourselves up. Two of us end up riding back with our feet soaked in the cold. While this mishap might be funny for local cyclists, it would be much less so for long-distance travelers who don’t have the warmth of home to comfort them and would have to continue their journey freezing. I’m thinking, for example, of that young Australian I hosted who was trying to pitch his tent by the canal in the middle of winter. He had come from Toulouse and was heading to Bordeaux after already covering 14,000 km since the Silk Road before taking a boat from Roscoff to England, where he’d fly back to Australia a year after his departure.
I’ve asked the Moissac town hall on their website to consider closing the Tarn riverbank route when it’s impassable so cyclists can take the mill promenade instead.
But I haven’t received any response or seen any action taken.
I’ll write another email with photos to back it up.
While traveling from Malause with two friends, we reach Moissac, and as usual, I decide to continue along the Voie Verte via the banks of the Tarn (see photo). It starts as a dirt path, then becomes a cemented section. I don’t worry when this slab is later covered by a puddle of water. But as we keep going, it hides the mud beneath, making it harder and harder to move forward until we come to a complete stop. Forced to dismount under the applause of about a hundred high school students on a school trip watching us from the terrace of the mill. Our legs then sink into 30 cm of silt brought by a flood of the Tarn. Only the third cyclist avoids the trap by turning back.
Luckily, we find an outdoor tap at the Uvarium to clean ourselves up. Two of us end up riding back with our feet soaked in the cold. While this mishap might be funny for local cyclists, it would be much less so for long-distance travelers who don’t have the warmth of home to comfort them and would have to continue their journey freezing. I’m thinking, for example, of that young Australian I hosted who was trying to pitch his tent by the canal in the middle of winter. He had come from Toulouse and was heading to Bordeaux after already covering 14,000 km since the Silk Road before taking a boat from Roscoff to England, where he’d fly back to Australia a year after his departure.
I’ve asked the Moissac town hall on their website to consider closing the Tarn riverbank route when it’s impassable so cyclists can take the mill promenade instead.
But I haven’t received any response or seen any action taken.
I’ll write another email with photos to back it up.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Since I didn’t get a response to my second email, I sent a letter to the Mayor of Moissac. So far, I haven’t received any further reply. But I was pleasantly surprised to see that the Voie Verte along the Tarn riverbanks has been cleaned up (see photos). Remember, you can see the caption by hovering over the image.
I’d like to think it’s thanks to my request...
If I still don’t get a response, I’ll send a congratulatory email instead.
I’ve noticed that, unlike with requests, you *do* get a reply when you send praise. The response was immediate when I congratulated the Créon town hall for their efforts to promote cycling http://www.terraeco.net/...-nez-dans,41992.html
"I’m still amazed that, in the fight against childhood obesity, we can enforce the weight of fries served in school cafeterias but not take steps to encourage cycling to school." Jean-Marie Darmian, Mayor of Créon.
"I’m still amazed that, in the fight against childhood obesity, we can enforce the weight of fries served in school cafeterias but not take steps to encourage cycling to school." Jean-Marie Darmian, Mayor of Créon.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
As a generous donor to http://www.replantonslecanaldumidi.fr/fr,
Voies Navigables de France invited me to meet a planting specialist in Marseillette on March 3rd. But that was the day I took possession of my recumbent tricycle in Toulouse.
After renting a Scorpion HPVélotechnik six years ago http://voyageforum.com/...ost=3245557;#3245557 and an ICE trike two years ago http://voyageforum.com/...ost=5898281;#5898281, and after saving up, I placed an order with the Cyclable store.
After the final adjustments, I head toward the Pont Neuf to cross the Garonne. From the first pedal strokes, a driver yells at me, saying that contraflow bike lanes aren’t made for vehicles like mine. It’s true that this one-way street is justified by the narrow roadway, which is just wide enough for us to pass each other (with parked cars). A young guy on the sidewalk immediately defends me, shouting: “I work in mechanics, and this is a bike!” He asks me to excuse the driver’s “behavior.” It’s funny how, behind the wheel of his tank, he complains that I take up too much space. Yet if most people in the city center walked or biked, space would multiply, and the silence would bring serenity. Maybe he’d even smile at me if he became a cyclist. Because even in Toulouse, a recumbent tricycle doesn’t go unnoticed—it sparks surprise, sympathy, even admiration. It’s true that being so low to the ground, less visible, and with limited visibility, you feel vulnerable in traffic. Add to that its width and high price, and you won’t see recumbent tricycles at every intersection. At least not as long as cities are designed primarily for cars.
I meet up with my student son, and we quickly reach the Canal du Midi to enjoy better conditions and get away from exhaust pipes that spew fumes right at nose level. Though the trike is suspended front and rear, a smooth surface is preferable since a recumbent is more sensitive to bumps, especially with 20-inch wheels. With the Rohloff system and its 14 gears in the hub, the triple chainring is unnecessary, so I only need to use a single twist shifter. The headrest adds to the comfort of the position, while disc brakes, mirrors, the dynamo, and the flag enhance the safety provided by the stability. See photos. I chose this German model for its technology, design, and build quality. It’s handcrafted, and I assume the workers are fairly paid. I wouldn’t want to contribute to the exploitation of the 12 million working poor in Germany. Barely has the minimum wage been introduced than it’s already being bypassed. For example, in slaughterhouses where many Turkish workers are employed, a 100 € rental fee for knife use is now deducted from their wages. While cycling the EuroVelo 6, I saw many industrial pig farms. Their buildings are covered with solar panels for electricity production, and the slurry feeds biogas plants—two forms of energy heavily subsidized by the state. Not content with these subsidies, slaughtering is outsourced to staff paid 4 €/hour to produce uniform, low-quality charcuterie across the country. And to flood the market with cheap pork. Breton farmers can hang on tight!
Wednesday, March 4th – Toulouse to Valence d’Agen: 90 km Despite the rain at 9:15 AM, I decide to leave my son’s apartment where I spent the night. The forecasted improvement for 10 AM doesn’t seem to be happening anytime soon. Oh well, I’ll just get my shiny new trike dirty. Equipped with my rain pants and cycling poncho, I dive into traffic. Quickly, I realize I can’t shift gears—the shifter turns but doesn’t engage the gearbox. Luckily, I’m near the shop. But I remember that Cyclable now opens only at 11 AM. Actually, by pressing the shifter in, it regains its function. It must be disengageable. I must have pulled it while lifting the bike to put it on the balcony. As its name suggests, the Scorpion folds by tucking the rear over the front. This lets you fit it in an elevator or car trunk, and I hope it’ll let me take it on the train. After Place Esquirol and Boulevard de Metz, I cross the Canal du Midi, remembering that after Gare Matabiau, the bike path is on the right bank. But I anticipated too soon and, going against the flow of cars, I’m forced to ride on the sidewalks. Which is less convenient with a trike due to its size. Sometimes it doesn’t fit between bollards or posts. Finally, I find the Greenway, and it’s already past 10 AM when I reach the city limits. The rain has stopped, and I can stow my rain gear for the day. At the twin bridges, I leave the Canal du Midi for the lateral canal to the Garonne. I’m off for 90 km of continuous, flat bike path with no motorized vehicles. I progress serenely along the old towpath. Without having to balance, I could almost dip my hand in the water. The sky clears, but the headwind forecasted by the weather increases with the sunshine. For the first time in my life, I eat a lollipop while biking. (I’m not at risk of falling.) I must admit I never buy them—I got this one in a picnic bag prepared by a Spanish hostel: a tasteless piece of baguette with chorizo, a sort of Laughing Cow cheese I spread in the sandwich, a portion of some kind of jelly (almost as bad as the English kind), two small cartons of orange juice, and a Chupa Chups. I arrive too late in Montech to eat at the workers’ restaurant, and ongoing construction prevents me from skirting the port to reach the lockhouse restaurant I’d hoped to see reopen. I barely squeeze between a tree and an EDF truck and head to the center to eat a kebab. On my way back to the port, I see through the construction fencing people eating on the terrace of the lockhouse restaurant. Maybe it’s the staff? Is it reopened? I continue on my way, regretting not having asked that question sooner. (Later, I won’t find a phone number to get an answer.) After the water slope, the sun comes out, but so does the wind. I resign myself to progressing at only 10 or 12 km/h. I decide to put the smartphone my wife and kids gave me for my 55th birthday in my jacket pocket, and with earphones, for the first time, I pedal while listening to the radio. A recumbent tricycle is very different from an upright bike. Later, I’ll realize that putting my keys, phone, and wallet in the back pockets of my cycling jersey isn’t practical anymore—it hurts my back. It’s a bit like getting the Zoé. While I refused to do activities that required using a gas car (even starting it to go to the pool felt like a chore), with an electric car, I go to yoga on Mondays, gym on Tuesdays, table tennis on Wednesdays, choir on Thursdays, and ping-pong again on Fridays. On top of these evenings, I even sometimes travel for competitions (of course, I take teammates). What seemed like a heresy has become possible. Still, I’m not fooled—I know that manufacturing an EV is polluting and that any travel generates nuisances. While they seem much less harmful, I continue to walk and bike (and take the train) as much as possible, and we’ve only driven 8,000 km in a year with the Zoé, even though it’s very pleasant to drive and 100 km only costs 1 € in electricity (10 € in gas for our combustion car). At this snail’s pace and with my head at rest, I only arrive home at 6:30 PM. I just need to lift my headrest to glance in the mirrors. It seems impossible to adjust them to see both with my head straight and tilted… Oh! I almost forgot. The hardest part for me on this first day: Clicking my shoes into the clipless pedals—since my feet are so far forward, I can’t see where I’m placing the cleats. Maybe I would’ve struggled on my upright bike too? Because I’ve never used them before. Here, it’s almost essential—if my foot slips off the pedal, it hits the ground, and my leg hits the frame arm.
I meet up with my student son, and we quickly reach the Canal du Midi to enjoy better conditions and get away from exhaust pipes that spew fumes right at nose level. Though the trike is suspended front and rear, a smooth surface is preferable since a recumbent is more sensitive to bumps, especially with 20-inch wheels. With the Rohloff system and its 14 gears in the hub, the triple chainring is unnecessary, so I only need to use a single twist shifter. The headrest adds to the comfort of the position, while disc brakes, mirrors, the dynamo, and the flag enhance the safety provided by the stability. See photos. I chose this German model for its technology, design, and build quality. It’s handcrafted, and I assume the workers are fairly paid. I wouldn’t want to contribute to the exploitation of the 12 million working poor in Germany. Barely has the minimum wage been introduced than it’s already being bypassed. For example, in slaughterhouses where many Turkish workers are employed, a 100 € rental fee for knife use is now deducted from their wages. While cycling the EuroVelo 6, I saw many industrial pig farms. Their buildings are covered with solar panels for electricity production, and the slurry feeds biogas plants—two forms of energy heavily subsidized by the state. Not content with these subsidies, slaughtering is outsourced to staff paid 4 €/hour to produce uniform, low-quality charcuterie across the country. And to flood the market with cheap pork. Breton farmers can hang on tight!
Wednesday, March 4th – Toulouse to Valence d’Agen: 90 km Despite the rain at 9:15 AM, I decide to leave my son’s apartment where I spent the night. The forecasted improvement for 10 AM doesn’t seem to be happening anytime soon. Oh well, I’ll just get my shiny new trike dirty. Equipped with my rain pants and cycling poncho, I dive into traffic. Quickly, I realize I can’t shift gears—the shifter turns but doesn’t engage the gearbox. Luckily, I’m near the shop. But I remember that Cyclable now opens only at 11 AM. Actually, by pressing the shifter in, it regains its function. It must be disengageable. I must have pulled it while lifting the bike to put it on the balcony. As its name suggests, the Scorpion folds by tucking the rear over the front. This lets you fit it in an elevator or car trunk, and I hope it’ll let me take it on the train. After Place Esquirol and Boulevard de Metz, I cross the Canal du Midi, remembering that after Gare Matabiau, the bike path is on the right bank. But I anticipated too soon and, going against the flow of cars, I’m forced to ride on the sidewalks. Which is less convenient with a trike due to its size. Sometimes it doesn’t fit between bollards or posts. Finally, I find the Greenway, and it’s already past 10 AM when I reach the city limits. The rain has stopped, and I can stow my rain gear for the day. At the twin bridges, I leave the Canal du Midi for the lateral canal to the Garonne. I’m off for 90 km of continuous, flat bike path with no motorized vehicles. I progress serenely along the old towpath. Without having to balance, I could almost dip my hand in the water. The sky clears, but the headwind forecasted by the weather increases with the sunshine. For the first time in my life, I eat a lollipop while biking. (I’m not at risk of falling.) I must admit I never buy them—I got this one in a picnic bag prepared by a Spanish hostel: a tasteless piece of baguette with chorizo, a sort of Laughing Cow cheese I spread in the sandwich, a portion of some kind of jelly (almost as bad as the English kind), two small cartons of orange juice, and a Chupa Chups. I arrive too late in Montech to eat at the workers’ restaurant, and ongoing construction prevents me from skirting the port to reach the lockhouse restaurant I’d hoped to see reopen. I barely squeeze between a tree and an EDF truck and head to the center to eat a kebab. On my way back to the port, I see through the construction fencing people eating on the terrace of the lockhouse restaurant. Maybe it’s the staff? Is it reopened? I continue on my way, regretting not having asked that question sooner. (Later, I won’t find a phone number to get an answer.) After the water slope, the sun comes out, but so does the wind. I resign myself to progressing at only 10 or 12 km/h. I decide to put the smartphone my wife and kids gave me for my 55th birthday in my jacket pocket, and with earphones, for the first time, I pedal while listening to the radio. A recumbent tricycle is very different from an upright bike. Later, I’ll realize that putting my keys, phone, and wallet in the back pockets of my cycling jersey isn’t practical anymore—it hurts my back. It’s a bit like getting the Zoé. While I refused to do activities that required using a gas car (even starting it to go to the pool felt like a chore), with an electric car, I go to yoga on Mondays, gym on Tuesdays, table tennis on Wednesdays, choir on Thursdays, and ping-pong again on Fridays. On top of these evenings, I even sometimes travel for competitions (of course, I take teammates). What seemed like a heresy has become possible. Still, I’m not fooled—I know that manufacturing an EV is polluting and that any travel generates nuisances. While they seem much less harmful, I continue to walk and bike (and take the train) as much as possible, and we’ve only driven 8,000 km in a year with the Zoé, even though it’s very pleasant to drive and 100 km only costs 1 € in electricity (10 € in gas for our combustion car). At this snail’s pace and with my head at rest, I only arrive home at 6:30 PM. I just need to lift my headrest to glance in the mirrors. It seems impossible to adjust them to see both with my head straight and tilted… Oh! I almost forgot. The hardest part for me on this first day: Clicking my shoes into the clipless pedals—since my feet are so far forward, I can’t see where I’m placing the cleats. Maybe I would’ve struggled on my upright bike too? Because I’ve never used them before. Here, it’s almost essential—if my foot slips off the pedal, it hits the ground, and my leg hits the frame arm.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I got an invitation to watch a video about plane trees:
Hello,
You couldn’t make it to our field outings scheduled for March 3rd and 11th to meet our planting expert along the Canal du Midi. As agreed, you can download a 5-minute in-house mini-film that’ll give you more details about the project. We’re going to split this mini-film into several topics to share on social media and raise awareness among as many people as possible. Thanks for your interest in the canal, Mary
Mary Bonneaud Lagarde Sponsorship for Voies Navigables de France +33 5 61 36 24 56 Replantonslecanal.fr
Hello,
You couldn’t make it to our field outings scheduled for March 3rd and 11th to meet our planting expert along the Canal du Midi. As agreed, you can download a 5-minute in-house mini-film that’ll give you more details about the project. We’re going to split this mini-film into several topics to share on social media and raise awareness among as many people as possible. Thanks for your interest in the canal, Mary
Mary Bonneaud Lagarde Sponsorship for Voies Navigables de France +33 5 61 36 24 56 Replantonslecanal.fr
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I was surprised that this video didn’t clearly address the issue of plane tree vaccination.
Here’s the very detailed response from VNF:
We can’t really talk about a "vaccine" that would cure sick trees. Here’s a summary of the two approaches we’re monitoring: 1. SUBTITREE · 4 students from UPS + 7 students from INSA came together at the initiative of Gilles Truan, a research fellow at the public laboratory LISBP (CNRS-INSA). · Gilles Truan proposes, every year, a team of Toulouse students to participate in the iGEM competition (International Genetically Engineered Machine competition). This is an international synthetic biology competition organized by MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology) in Boston (USA). · Among several projects, the students chose a biological control project against colored canker, which they named SUBTITREE. They created an association and worked in INSA’s facilities to develop the iGEM project. The iGEM competition was held by MIT in Boston from October 30 to November 2, 2014. It welcomed 245 student teams from around the world. The iGEM Toulouse team won a gold medal and received the award for the best experimental approach, placing the team among the top 20 worldwide. · The project started in January 2014 and ended in October 2014. Only Mathieu Fournié, a student at Paul Sabatier University, could extend the project with a PhD. · The goal: to create an alternative to prophylactic felling. Trees that are too affected must still be cut down. The proposed solution doesn’t regenerate already necrotic cells. However, for slightly affected trees or still healthy ones in outbreak areas, the solution aims to eventually treat the trees. · The principle: to modify a bacterium already present in the plane tree that produces molecules to fight the pathogen. This bacterium would be injected into the tree for a limited time and would die naturally. · We don’t talk about a "vaccine" in the SUBTITREE project because there’s no long-term immune response. It’s protection for a defined period. · The timeline: the PhD (which lasts at least 3 years) hasn’t started yet, so no practical application until the theory advances.
2. CETEV · In 2013, CETEV proposed to Voies Navigables de France (VNF) to experiment with a new micro-injection treatment method. VNF supports the project and contacted the Ministry of Agriculture, the competent authority on health matters, to learn the necessary steps. Indeed, an experiment of this type, involving a quarantine organism, can only be conducted under certain precautions. CETEV developed an initial research protocol that was sent to the ministry. · At the beginning of 2014, exchanges took place between the Ministry of Agriculture and CETEV. On February 16, 2014, CETEV sent the ministry the Phase 1 dossier, which proposed a list of products likely to be used in this experiment. · It seems the proposed protocol was approved by the ministry (see press information from February). CETEV hasn’t contacted VNF again yet. If approved, VNF confirmed its interest in experiments supporting research and limiting disease spread, and we’re ready to provide CETEV with a number of trees needed for the experiment. · The timeline: still very long—several years. Before experiments yield tangible and proven results on different trees where evolutions would be compared, and before moving from research to widespread treatment. Unfortunately, while waiting for progress, the fungus kills trees very quickly, and we must cut down dead trees to protect residents and try to limit the disease’s spread. We’re accelerating the replanting program with new species to restore the canal’s landscape as soon as possible. Thanks again for your support. I hope this research clarifies things for you. See you soon, Mary
We can’t really talk about a "vaccine" that would cure sick trees. Here’s a summary of the two approaches we’re monitoring: 1. SUBTITREE · 4 students from UPS + 7 students from INSA came together at the initiative of Gilles Truan, a research fellow at the public laboratory LISBP (CNRS-INSA). · Gilles Truan proposes, every year, a team of Toulouse students to participate in the iGEM competition (International Genetically Engineered Machine competition). This is an international synthetic biology competition organized by MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology) in Boston (USA). · Among several projects, the students chose a biological control project against colored canker, which they named SUBTITREE. They created an association and worked in INSA’s facilities to develop the iGEM project. The iGEM competition was held by MIT in Boston from October 30 to November 2, 2014. It welcomed 245 student teams from around the world. The iGEM Toulouse team won a gold medal and received the award for the best experimental approach, placing the team among the top 20 worldwide. · The project started in January 2014 and ended in October 2014. Only Mathieu Fournié, a student at Paul Sabatier University, could extend the project with a PhD. · The goal: to create an alternative to prophylactic felling. Trees that are too affected must still be cut down. The proposed solution doesn’t regenerate already necrotic cells. However, for slightly affected trees or still healthy ones in outbreak areas, the solution aims to eventually treat the trees. · The principle: to modify a bacterium already present in the plane tree that produces molecules to fight the pathogen. This bacterium would be injected into the tree for a limited time and would die naturally. · We don’t talk about a "vaccine" in the SUBTITREE project because there’s no long-term immune response. It’s protection for a defined period. · The timeline: the PhD (which lasts at least 3 years) hasn’t started yet, so no practical application until the theory advances.
2. CETEV · In 2013, CETEV proposed to Voies Navigables de France (VNF) to experiment with a new micro-injection treatment method. VNF supports the project and contacted the Ministry of Agriculture, the competent authority on health matters, to learn the necessary steps. Indeed, an experiment of this type, involving a quarantine organism, can only be conducted under certain precautions. CETEV developed an initial research protocol that was sent to the ministry. · At the beginning of 2014, exchanges took place between the Ministry of Agriculture and CETEV. On February 16, 2014, CETEV sent the ministry the Phase 1 dossier, which proposed a list of products likely to be used in this experiment. · It seems the proposed protocol was approved by the ministry (see press information from February). CETEV hasn’t contacted VNF again yet. If approved, VNF confirmed its interest in experiments supporting research and limiting disease spread, and we’re ready to provide CETEV with a number of trees needed for the experiment. · The timeline: still very long—several years. Before experiments yield tangible and proven results on different trees where evolutions would be compared, and before moving from research to widespread treatment. Unfortunately, while waiting for progress, the fungus kills trees very quickly, and we must cut down dead trees to protect residents and try to limit the disease’s spread. We’re accelerating the replanting program with new species to restore the canal’s landscape as soon as possible. Thanks again for your support. I hope this research clarifies things for you. See you soon, Mary
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I traveled to Rouen by train again to visit my parents.
On a beautiful afternoon, I decided to walk into the city center to check out the new 360° panorama that was just built on the Seine quays.
A few hundred meters past the botanical garden, I spotted an invitation to use the "pedibus" (see photo). Then I passed the Cy’clic station. The city encourages using its well-developed public transport network—trams and buses—to help reduce pollution.
What’s more, Upper Normandy is determined to become France’s first eco-region. It offers up to 5000 € for purchasing an electric vehicle, on top of the 6300 € from the state. That’s up to 10000 € if you scrap an old diesel (too bad I never owned one). Now *that’s* an incentive: http://www.hautenormandie.fr/...our-les-particul....
I reached the quays where the cruise boat *Le Strasbourg* is docked. Like in Bordeaux, the quays are designed for strolling—though it’s a shame there are no ramps for bikes on the many bridges, just rails in the staircases. The old port warehouses have been turned into shops, like the *Marégraphe* brasserie, which also hosts events. It’s named after the tower that displays the tidal levels here, 60 km as the crow flies from the sea. Rouen marks the boundary between river and maritime navigation.
The XXL Panorama was built nearby, just before the lifting bridge that lets tall ships parade through the heart of the city.
http://www.panoramaxxl.com/
Bad luck—it’s closed on Mondays. But the reception was open, and I learned the elevator only goes up to the 2nd floor. You have to take the stairs to the terrace for the 360° view of the 100-meter circular scenery. The *Marégraphes* parking lot is free for visitors. Useful info for my mom, who needs a wheelchair to get around. I’ll go back the next day with my parents.
For now, I explored the Dock 76 shopping center and the new sports palace:
http://www.kindarena.fr/...ndarena/Presentation
which, of course, was closed—no events were scheduled (not enough of a crowd to "jump into the arena").
I headed toward the pedestrian streets, guided by the cathedral spire, which I could clearly see about 2 km away. In the square, a cyclist was followed by a man on a tricycle—a Scorpion like mine, but black. Farther on, I took a photo of a young guy with a curious 10-seater vehicle. He offered to take me somewhere, so I pedaled along with him, though I didn’t change his route—he was picking up kids from school. Later, he’d take some to daycare and others to their activities for free. The kids were thrilled. There are only two of these Dutch-style cycles in France, and they’re in Rouen. It gave me hope that one day we might move away from car dependency and let our kids get around and breathe. I’m going to donate to the association. http://www.scoolbus.org/ Now I’m at city hall, a bit farther from my parents’ place. But I’m happy with my discoveries during this 15 km walk under the sun, veiled by the fine-particle haze. It’d help if it rained or if there was wind. Without either, Paris implemented alternate-day driving the following Monday due to the pollution peak…
I headed toward the pedestrian streets, guided by the cathedral spire, which I could clearly see about 2 km away. In the square, a cyclist was followed by a man on a tricycle—a Scorpion like mine, but black. Farther on, I took a photo of a young guy with a curious 10-seater vehicle. He offered to take me somewhere, so I pedaled along with him, though I didn’t change his route—he was picking up kids from school. Later, he’d take some to daycare and others to their activities for free. The kids were thrilled. There are only two of these Dutch-style cycles in France, and they’re in Rouen. It gave me hope that one day we might move away from car dependency and let our kids get around and breathe. I’m going to donate to the association. http://www.scoolbus.org/ Now I’m at city hall, a bit farther from my parents’ place. But I’m happy with my discoveries during this 15 km walk under the sun, veiled by the fine-particle haze. It’d help if it rained or if there was wind. Without either, Paris implemented alternate-day driving the following Monday due to the pollution peak…
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
While François Hollande surrounded himself with Mélanie Laurent and Marion Cotillard to call for climate action from Manila, one might wonder if COP 21 (the UN Conference on Climate Change in Paris—from November 30 to December 11, 2015) won’t just be a lot of hot air.
Since I never received a concrete response to my previous letter, I wrote again to Ségolène Royal:
To the Minister of Ecology, Sustainable Development, and Energy, Your ref: BDC/CCY/D/14016079/ML – Letter dated 09/29/14 Subject: Cycling and environmental protection.
Madam, Following the letter I sent you at the end of July 2014, your chief of staff forwarded my remarks to the interministerial coordinator for the development of cycling at your request. But eight months later, I still haven’t received a response. It seems your government is all talk on this issue. In the Energy Transition Law, the word "bike" appears over 100 times—but mostly in terms like "debikeing" or "debikement." Actual mentions of cycling are far fewer. There’s talk of tax breaks for companies providing bike fleets and secure parking at workplaces. But no large-scale plan for building cycling paths, bike routes, or train access. We can applaud the trial run of the bike mileage allowance. At the same time, I’m surprised by the push to open long-distance coach travel to competition. That’s not what we should be promoting—it’s trains. When will we realize that bikes and trains are the two key ways to make this transition happen? When I traveled to Lyon for work by bike—7 days and 700 km—http://voyageforum.com/...post=6005558#6005558 After a week of training, I boarded the return train at La Part-Dieu with my bike reservation, which cost 10 €. The new double-decker TGV had no bike spaces! I’ll be joining the climate march from Copenhagen to Paris: http://transeuropeenne.free.fr/...transeuropeenn... Due to Deutsche Bahn’s decision to stop overnight trains that accept bikes, it’s now very difficult to travel to Copenhagen with a bicycle. The same goes for Vienna, where I went last year by train to ride the EuroVelo 6 all the way to Nantes. Are they trying to push us to fly? It makes no sense to use a plane to advocate against climate change. For cyclists, turning a bike into carry-on luggage isn’t exactly easy. Especially when it’s already loaded with panniers. SNCF should equip its trains with cars that allow easy level boarding from the platform via wide doors. Congratulations on the Electric Vehicle Plan, with a state incentive of 6,300 €—or even 10,000 € if you scrap an old diesel (too bad I never owned one). It’s a great incentive, especially when regions like Haute-Normandie add another 5,000 €. I was one of the first to get 7,000 € toward a Zoe, but I couldn’t get anything from Midi-Pyrénées. But we also—and above all—need to learn to move away from car dependency. Instead of leaving municipalities to manage pseudo-extracurricular activities, we should create positions for sports educators integrated into the school schedule. Their mission, beyond sports, would be to organize walking and cycling school buses. It’s not right that these healthy transport options are so rarely implemented and rely on volunteers, for example: http://www.scoolbus.org/ Every primary school child should, during their schooling, take part in a bike tour of their department (unless we want to do away with this democratic level). This school trip would be tied to an educational project, starting with exploring their town on foot and then by bike—learning about the environment and civic responsibility, respecting community rules. It’s our duty to ensure future generations don’t live the nightmare depicted here: https://www.youtube.com/...ed&v=gAethD1Io_Y Example of pedagogy: http://www.velo.qc.ca/...-cyclistes-de-demain
I trust you’ll take the necessary steps to protect the environment and improve our quality of life together. Looking forward to your response, Madam Minister, please accept my respectful regards.
Since I never received a concrete response to my previous letter, I wrote again to Ségolène Royal:
To the Minister of Ecology, Sustainable Development, and Energy, Your ref: BDC/CCY/D/14016079/ML – Letter dated 09/29/14 Subject: Cycling and environmental protection.
Madam, Following the letter I sent you at the end of July 2014, your chief of staff forwarded my remarks to the interministerial coordinator for the development of cycling at your request. But eight months later, I still haven’t received a response. It seems your government is all talk on this issue. In the Energy Transition Law, the word "bike" appears over 100 times—but mostly in terms like "debikeing" or "debikement." Actual mentions of cycling are far fewer. There’s talk of tax breaks for companies providing bike fleets and secure parking at workplaces. But no large-scale plan for building cycling paths, bike routes, or train access. We can applaud the trial run of the bike mileage allowance. At the same time, I’m surprised by the push to open long-distance coach travel to competition. That’s not what we should be promoting—it’s trains. When will we realize that bikes and trains are the two key ways to make this transition happen? When I traveled to Lyon for work by bike—7 days and 700 km—http://voyageforum.com/...post=6005558#6005558 After a week of training, I boarded the return train at La Part-Dieu with my bike reservation, which cost 10 €. The new double-decker TGV had no bike spaces! I’ll be joining the climate march from Copenhagen to Paris: http://transeuropeenne.free.fr/...transeuropeenn... Due to Deutsche Bahn’s decision to stop overnight trains that accept bikes, it’s now very difficult to travel to Copenhagen with a bicycle. The same goes for Vienna, where I went last year by train to ride the EuroVelo 6 all the way to Nantes. Are they trying to push us to fly? It makes no sense to use a plane to advocate against climate change. For cyclists, turning a bike into carry-on luggage isn’t exactly easy. Especially when it’s already loaded with panniers. SNCF should equip its trains with cars that allow easy level boarding from the platform via wide doors. Congratulations on the Electric Vehicle Plan, with a state incentive of 6,300 €—or even 10,000 € if you scrap an old diesel (too bad I never owned one). It’s a great incentive, especially when regions like Haute-Normandie add another 5,000 €. I was one of the first to get 7,000 € toward a Zoe, but I couldn’t get anything from Midi-Pyrénées. But we also—and above all—need to learn to move away from car dependency. Instead of leaving municipalities to manage pseudo-extracurricular activities, we should create positions for sports educators integrated into the school schedule. Their mission, beyond sports, would be to organize walking and cycling school buses. It’s not right that these healthy transport options are so rarely implemented and rely on volunteers, for example: http://www.scoolbus.org/ Every primary school child should, during their schooling, take part in a bike tour of their department (unless we want to do away with this democratic level). This school trip would be tied to an educational project, starting with exploring their town on foot and then by bike—learning about the environment and civic responsibility, respecting community rules. It’s our duty to ensure future generations don’t live the nightmare depicted here: https://www.youtube.com/...ed&v=gAethD1Io_Y Example of pedagogy: http://www.velo.qc.ca/...-cyclistes-de-demain
I trust you’ll take the necessary steps to protect the environment and improve our quality of life together. Looking forward to your response, Madam Minister, please accept my respectful regards.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
HPV, the manufacturer of my trike, recommends the first service covered by the dealer after just 300 km. Even though March was rainy, I quickly reached that milestone since the round trip from Toulouse to Valence d’Agen adds 180 km to the odometer.
I booked an appointment with Cyclable and asked a friend to join me to Toulouse. We meet up on April 8th at 9 AM in Malause. Our first stop is at the Port Jean-Yves Cousteau in Castelsarrasin to refill my water bottle, which I’d initially filled with rosemary tea to warm us up. Construction work to widen the canal is underway nearby, including sheet pile installation and ramp construction (see photos).
We arrive in Montech just before noon. The bike path runs right past, and I’m thrilled the restaurant by the port has reopened. I invite my friend to check it out: http://www.maisonconstant.com/bistrot-constant/ We enjoy lunch on the sunny terrace, though the wind is still chilly. I learn it’s only been open for four months: http://www.ladepeche.fr/...istrot-constant.html
When I mention I’m surprised there’s no connection to the lockkeeper’s house, the staff explain the management avoided any association with the old restaurant’s poor reputation—even going so far as to avoid referencing the enchanting site in the establishment’s name. That’s why my online searches a month ago came up empty. I love this little port in Montech and predict the restaurant will be a hit once the warmer weather and tourists arrive. Especially since Montech is the intersection point for the canal from Montauban and has a water slope.
But we still have 50 km ahead, and the headwind won’t let up until the end. It’s coming from the southeast. While it brings good weather, it doesn’t make our ride any easier. We swap bikes for a few kilometers, and my friend enjoys the recumbent trike for digestion.
On this Wednesday, many young people are training—there are several rowing clubs along the canal. A camaraderie forms between those gliding over the water and those of us rolling along the towpath. We’re much faster than them, but it’s still 5:30 PM by the time we reach the Cyclable store in central Toulouse after 93 km.
The workshop is reserved for me the next day from 10 AM to noon. As planned, I leave my trike overnight. They also agree to store the MTB, which reduces theft risks since we’ll be staying at my son’s place. It’s more convenient to be on foot together. I forgot my pannier strap, so I improvise one with the bungee cords I always keep in the trunk.
We cross the Pont Neuf, which offers a view of the Bazacle—a dam, free visitor site, and exhibition space: http://bazacle.edf.com/ It’s also what Quebecers call a "heritage interpretation" site: In sustainable development, heritage interpretation is a tool for translating historical sites.
We arrive at Allée Charles de Fitte, where, near my son’s place, there are two charging stations and four parking spots reserved for electric vehicles: http://fr.chargemap.com/...es-de-fitte-toulouse I’ve never biked from Valence d’Agen to Toulouse (90 km) for fear of not being able to recharge. Yet it’s ideal to have two charging stations just 200 meters from the apartment I rent for my son.
But access is impossible, as Chargemap users confirm. Every time, I’ve also noticed the four spots are occupied by gas-powered vehicles. Same today—no fines, no towing (even though two trucks are nearby). However, the fifth vehicle next to them has a ticket on its windshield (see photos). I have a revelation: law enforcement fined that car because it’s parked in a motorcycle spot, and they could tell it wasn’t a motorcycle. They don’t fine the diesel and gasoline cars because they don’t realize they’re not EVs. It’s tricky! Especially since hybrids exist too!!!
Plus, users say these charging stations aren’t operational. That’s why, even though I loaded 20 € onto the Kiwhi Pass card Renault gave me: http://www.kiwhipass.fr/ I haven’t used it yet. I’m waiting for warmer weather to try it out, in case I have to sleep in the car while waiting for Renault assistance.
I could’ve fit the Scorpion in the Zoe’s trunk to come for this service, but it never occurred to me to drive 180 km in our gas-powered Picasso, even though the trunk is bigger. Since we got the Zoe, our annual mileage has dropped from 12,000 to 7,500 km, and our average fuel consumption has gone from 8.3 to 7.7 liters of SP95E10 per 100 km—since we now avoid even more short trips with it.
I booked an appointment with Cyclable and asked a friend to join me to Toulouse. We meet up on April 8th at 9 AM in Malause. Our first stop is at the Port Jean-Yves Cousteau in Castelsarrasin to refill my water bottle, which I’d initially filled with rosemary tea to warm us up. Construction work to widen the canal is underway nearby, including sheet pile installation and ramp construction (see photos).
We arrive in Montech just before noon. The bike path runs right past, and I’m thrilled the restaurant by the port has reopened. I invite my friend to check it out: http://www.maisonconstant.com/bistrot-constant/ We enjoy lunch on the sunny terrace, though the wind is still chilly. I learn it’s only been open for four months: http://www.ladepeche.fr/...istrot-constant.html
When I mention I’m surprised there’s no connection to the lockkeeper’s house, the staff explain the management avoided any association with the old restaurant’s poor reputation—even going so far as to avoid referencing the enchanting site in the establishment’s name. That’s why my online searches a month ago came up empty. I love this little port in Montech and predict the restaurant will be a hit once the warmer weather and tourists arrive. Especially since Montech is the intersection point for the canal from Montauban and has a water slope.
But we still have 50 km ahead, and the headwind won’t let up until the end. It’s coming from the southeast. While it brings good weather, it doesn’t make our ride any easier. We swap bikes for a few kilometers, and my friend enjoys the recumbent trike for digestion.
On this Wednesday, many young people are training—there are several rowing clubs along the canal. A camaraderie forms between those gliding over the water and those of us rolling along the towpath. We’re much faster than them, but it’s still 5:30 PM by the time we reach the Cyclable store in central Toulouse after 93 km.
The workshop is reserved for me the next day from 10 AM to noon. As planned, I leave my trike overnight. They also agree to store the MTB, which reduces theft risks since we’ll be staying at my son’s place. It’s more convenient to be on foot together. I forgot my pannier strap, so I improvise one with the bungee cords I always keep in the trunk.
We cross the Pont Neuf, which offers a view of the Bazacle—a dam, free visitor site, and exhibition space: http://bazacle.edf.com/ It’s also what Quebecers call a "heritage interpretation" site: In sustainable development, heritage interpretation is a tool for translating historical sites.
We arrive at Allée Charles de Fitte, where, near my son’s place, there are two charging stations and four parking spots reserved for electric vehicles: http://fr.chargemap.com/...es-de-fitte-toulouse I’ve never biked from Valence d’Agen to Toulouse (90 km) for fear of not being able to recharge. Yet it’s ideal to have two charging stations just 200 meters from the apartment I rent for my son.
But access is impossible, as Chargemap users confirm. Every time, I’ve also noticed the four spots are occupied by gas-powered vehicles. Same today—no fines, no towing (even though two trucks are nearby). However, the fifth vehicle next to them has a ticket on its windshield (see photos). I have a revelation: law enforcement fined that car because it’s parked in a motorcycle spot, and they could tell it wasn’t a motorcycle. They don’t fine the diesel and gasoline cars because they don’t realize they’re not EVs. It’s tricky! Especially since hybrids exist too!!!
Plus, users say these charging stations aren’t operational. That’s why, even though I loaded 20 € onto the Kiwhi Pass card Renault gave me: http://www.kiwhipass.fr/ I haven’t used it yet. I’m waiting for warmer weather to try it out, in case I have to sleep in the car while waiting for Renault assistance.
I could’ve fit the Scorpion in the Zoe’s trunk to come for this service, but it never occurred to me to drive 180 km in our gas-powered Picasso, even though the trunk is bigger. Since we got the Zoe, our annual mileage has dropped from 12,000 to 7,500 km, and our average fuel consumption has gone from 8.3 to 7.7 liters of SP95E10 per 100 km—since we now avoid even more short trips with it.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
After my son treated us to a Carbonara pasta dinner and we enjoyed a restful night in his quiet neighborhood, we’re getting ready to join the demonstration that starts on April 9th at 10 AM in Place Arnaud Bertrand. It’s on the opposite side of town, but we’ve got plenty of time to walk there. This time, we take the Pont Saint-Pierre. It leads straight to the Nougaro mural http://ville.france.free.fr/...os/maxi/DSCN2522.....
Then we pass by the Saint-Sernin Basilica. We go inside, but viewing the artworks isn’t allowed during a service.
On our way out, we stumble upon the Bourse du Travail, where CGT activists are preparing two vehicles.
The UMP-run city hall is trying to evict the organization, which has occupied the space for free for 120 years:
http://france3-regions.francetvinfo.fr/...cipali...
On top of that, there’s a 15% hike in local taxes. Maybe this is how the city is preparing to become the capital of the new Occitanie region (Midi-Pyrénées Languedoc-Roussillon).
I can just picture the faces of the people from Montpellier.
It’s also Jean-Luc Moudenc, Mayor and President of Toulouse Métropole, who cut the subsidy for buying an electric bike (VAE):
http://www.voixdumidi.fr/...ectriques-43775.html
It was thanks to a similar subsidy from the Rouen urban area that my 88-year-old dad was able to buy a Matra VAE, which still lets him keep cycling.
Luckily, others are stepping up to promote them:
http://www.avem.fr/...ntreprises-5632.html
Every time we can replace a car trip with a bike ride, it feels like a win. That’s what the previous left-wing municipal team had in mind. But not everyone’s pedaling in the same direction. It makes you wonder how the Socialist Party (PS) can back the Macron law, which leans toward liberalism. On closer inspection, it’s heavily inspired by the Attali Commission, set up at President Sarkozy’s request—and the rapporteur was none other than Emmanuel Macron. Yet he’d seemed sincere and convincing on *Des Paroles et des Actes*.
We’re still early for the protest’s start, which mainly brings together workers from struggling local companies like JOB, whose truck scatters rolling paper sheets along the route. As I’d hoped, the march takes us to Place du Capitole: http://www.touleco.fr/...ite-a-Toulouse,16301 Right near the Cyclable shop. The mechanic finishes adjusting my tricycle on the bench, then takes it for a test ride around the neighborhood. Later, I’ll notice he put oil on the long chain. The salesperson had recommended a dry Teflon-based lube, which I’d bought—and the two aren’t compatible!
We’re in too much of a rush to get to Matabiau station to miss our 1:14 PM train. Especially since the young salesperson doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. Even though his TGV arrives in Toulouse 10 minutes early, he realizes the bike compartment he reserved is at the other end of the train. It takes him 10 minutes to push through the crowded platform. A TGV set is 250 meters long—500 when doubled. Moving at 3 km/h while pushing a bike through a two-way crowd and jostling for space at the train doors isn’t bad, stress-wise either.
My situation’s different since I’m taking a regional express train. The question is whether the Scorpion will fit through the door if it’s an old Corail carriage with a narrow entrance. When my friend worried about our return trip in the afternoon, I suggested taking the train to Montauban (50 km) and showing him the Montech canal: http://voyageforum.com/...post=5034626#5034626
After buying our tickets and sandwiches, we head outside the station to the platform where TER trains to Valence d’Agen usually depart. A conductor near a TGV confirms it. But 20 minutes before departure, the train is announced on platform 4 with a 10-minute delay. Due to the morning strike, they’re using a train coming from Carcassonne. Damn strikers and protesters (just kidding). This is less funny because we might only have 2 minutes to board. Plus, there’s no ramp or elevator—we’ll have to carry the Scorpion down the stairs to cross under the tracks. Luckily, we’re two for this first attempt. We might even have to remove the seat and fold the Scorpion. On the platform, passengers are crowding in. I’ve already counted four bikes, including ours, and my friend adds a scooter. A staff member tells me it’ll be a recent TER (made by Bombardier). Phew! No problem getting the tricycle through the wide, level-access door. Thanks to the region for funding these trains.
We even manage to hook it by the rear wheel like a regular bike. Sitting next to it, we dig into our lunch right away—we’ve only got a 30-minute trip. In theory, at least, because the train gets stuck indefinitely at Castelnau d’Estrétefonds due to the train ahead having mechanical issues. We consider hopping off and taking the towpath along the Garonne lateral canal, which we can see. SNCF staff joke that we should bike instead in this nice weather. We finish our meal calmly first. Then the train starts moving again but slows at every crossing for a technical issue.
Not bad for a double first (the tricycle’s maiden voyage and my friend’s first bike-plus-train trip). We arrive in Montauban 30 minutes late.
The first 5 kilometers of the towpath haven’t changed since my last visit. At one point, there’s even a chain blocking the entire path—no way a stroller would fit, let alone a wheelchair, child trailer, or tricycle. But no problem parking cars down below. From there, I try to climb the sloping embankment to reach the canal bank, but the Scorpion starts tipping toward my single pannier. I get off and push it. We’re still far from a *Voie Verte*. Yet the last 6 kilometers are gorgeous, with a wide, smooth bike path just as you’d hope: http://www.af3v.org/...e-VVV-.html?voie=421 I’ll congratulate the Departmental Council and encourage the new president, Christian Astruc, to extend this development all the way to Montauban. I also need to ask them to correct the distance displayed for years between Montech and Valence d’Agen: 58 km instead of the actual 40.
We quickly reach the end of the 11 km of this so-called branch or diversion canal: http://projetbabel.org/...ca_garonne-canal.htm Here, the Garonne lateral canal, the Montauban canal, and the Montech water slope meet near the old factory. We cross to the left bank using the footbridge, which is packed at 3:45 PM—school’s out (in my day, it was 4:30 PM). It’s great to see all these kids biking to and from school. Could it be thanks to all the safety improvements? Parents wouldn’t imagine them crossing the bridge with the nonstop traffic we’re dodging under before reaching the port. Another canal bridge struggles under the weight of a truck. We pass the Bistrot Constant again, and this time, the wind’s at our backs. “Night and day,” my friend remarks.
In Moissac, we cross paths with a school group on bikes, just like on the way there. I’m impressed by the supervisors organizing this activity and hope they’re properly covered for the responsibility it entails: http://www.education.gouv.fr/bo/1999/hs7/sorties... http://www.ac-clermont.fr/...ossierIEcycloVTT.pdf
I get back to Valence d’Agen at 6:30 PM after 50 km.
We’re still early for the protest’s start, which mainly brings together workers from struggling local companies like JOB, whose truck scatters rolling paper sheets along the route. As I’d hoped, the march takes us to Place du Capitole: http://www.touleco.fr/...ite-a-Toulouse,16301 Right near the Cyclable shop. The mechanic finishes adjusting my tricycle on the bench, then takes it for a test ride around the neighborhood. Later, I’ll notice he put oil on the long chain. The salesperson had recommended a dry Teflon-based lube, which I’d bought—and the two aren’t compatible!
We’re in too much of a rush to get to Matabiau station to miss our 1:14 PM train. Especially since the young salesperson doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. Even though his TGV arrives in Toulouse 10 minutes early, he realizes the bike compartment he reserved is at the other end of the train. It takes him 10 minutes to push through the crowded platform. A TGV set is 250 meters long—500 when doubled. Moving at 3 km/h while pushing a bike through a two-way crowd and jostling for space at the train doors isn’t bad, stress-wise either.
My situation’s different since I’m taking a regional express train. The question is whether the Scorpion will fit through the door if it’s an old Corail carriage with a narrow entrance. When my friend worried about our return trip in the afternoon, I suggested taking the train to Montauban (50 km) and showing him the Montech canal: http://voyageforum.com/...post=5034626#5034626
After buying our tickets and sandwiches, we head outside the station to the platform where TER trains to Valence d’Agen usually depart. A conductor near a TGV confirms it. But 20 minutes before departure, the train is announced on platform 4 with a 10-minute delay. Due to the morning strike, they’re using a train coming from Carcassonne. Damn strikers and protesters (just kidding). This is less funny because we might only have 2 minutes to board. Plus, there’s no ramp or elevator—we’ll have to carry the Scorpion down the stairs to cross under the tracks. Luckily, we’re two for this first attempt. We might even have to remove the seat and fold the Scorpion. On the platform, passengers are crowding in. I’ve already counted four bikes, including ours, and my friend adds a scooter. A staff member tells me it’ll be a recent TER (made by Bombardier). Phew! No problem getting the tricycle through the wide, level-access door. Thanks to the region for funding these trains.
We even manage to hook it by the rear wheel like a regular bike. Sitting next to it, we dig into our lunch right away—we’ve only got a 30-minute trip. In theory, at least, because the train gets stuck indefinitely at Castelnau d’Estrétefonds due to the train ahead having mechanical issues. We consider hopping off and taking the towpath along the Garonne lateral canal, which we can see. SNCF staff joke that we should bike instead in this nice weather. We finish our meal calmly first. Then the train starts moving again but slows at every crossing for a technical issue.
Not bad for a double first (the tricycle’s maiden voyage and my friend’s first bike-plus-train trip). We arrive in Montauban 30 minutes late.
The first 5 kilometers of the towpath haven’t changed since my last visit. At one point, there’s even a chain blocking the entire path—no way a stroller would fit, let alone a wheelchair, child trailer, or tricycle. But no problem parking cars down below. From there, I try to climb the sloping embankment to reach the canal bank, but the Scorpion starts tipping toward my single pannier. I get off and push it. We’re still far from a *Voie Verte*. Yet the last 6 kilometers are gorgeous, with a wide, smooth bike path just as you’d hope: http://www.af3v.org/...e-VVV-.html?voie=421 I’ll congratulate the Departmental Council and encourage the new president, Christian Astruc, to extend this development all the way to Montauban. I also need to ask them to correct the distance displayed for years between Montech and Valence d’Agen: 58 km instead of the actual 40.
We quickly reach the end of the 11 km of this so-called branch or diversion canal: http://projetbabel.org/...ca_garonne-canal.htm Here, the Garonne lateral canal, the Montauban canal, and the Montech water slope meet near the old factory. We cross to the left bank using the footbridge, which is packed at 3:45 PM—school’s out (in my day, it was 4:30 PM). It’s great to see all these kids biking to and from school. Could it be thanks to all the safety improvements? Parents wouldn’t imagine them crossing the bridge with the nonstop traffic we’re dodging under before reaching the port. Another canal bridge struggles under the weight of a truck. We pass the Bistrot Constant again, and this time, the wind’s at our backs. “Night and day,” my friend remarks.
In Moissac, we cross paths with a school group on bikes, just like on the way there. I’m impressed by the supervisors organizing this activity and hope they’re properly covered for the responsibility it entails: http://www.education.gouv.fr/bo/1999/hs7/sorties... http://www.ac-clermont.fr/...ossierIEcycloVTT.pdf
I get back to Valence d’Agen at 6:30 PM after 50 km.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I chose to submit my request to the Departmental Council online so that the links would be active.
It turns out their website rejects them. I had to remove "http:" from the message for it to be accepted.
It’s completely backward. The whole point of digital was to be able to see the photos!
Gilles ROULAND 4 rue Pierre Perret 82400 VALENCE d’AGEN
To the President of the Departmental Council of Tarn-et-Garonne Subject: Voie Verte along the Montech Canal
For 10 years, I’ve used my bicycle to commute from home to work. It’s not much to brag about since the trip is only 6 km under pleasant riding conditions.
I also go on vacation by bike. To show how easy it is to travel several hundred kilometers, I’ve documented my various trips on Voyage Forum: http://voyageforum.com/...post=1000920#1000920
I’ve ridden along the Canal Latéral à la Garonne and the Canal du Midi several times. I know how different it is to ride a loaded bike (30 kg) on a dirt towpath with stones and roots compared to a paved path. That’s why I want to commend your department for creating and maintaining the bike path along the Canal Latéral à la Garonne—its success is clear from how busy it is.
I took it a step further by using my bike for work trips. I wouldn’t have even considered it without such infrastructure: http://voyageforum.com/...post=2799841#2799841
Last year, taking advantage of the car-free towpaths, I safely rode from Valence d’Agen to Lyon along the Canal de Garonne, Canal du Midi, and then from Sète to the Rhône, enjoying nature the whole way. I did a week-long training course and returned by train: http://voyageforum.com/...post=6006514#6006514
I want to congratulate your predecessors for building the bike path between Montech and Lacourt-Saint-Pierre. It’s a great achievement, and I hope you’ll continue this project. With 11 km of Voie Verte, you’ll give people from Montauban a wonderful place to walk while also offering French and international tourists a gateway to the charming port of Montech and its heritage, including the water slope. Connecting it to the Canal Latéral à la Garonne will boost our area’s appeal—a point well understood by the new owner of the lockkeeper’s house, now the Bistrot Constant: http://voyageforum.com/...post=6988221#6988221
It’s unfortunate that before Montauban, the towpath is blocked by a chain. Not even a stroller could get through—let alone a tricycle, a child trailer, or a wheelchair. See photo: http://voyageforum.com/...post=6990563#6990563 Just before the port of Montech, the signs need to be corrected (last photo). The distance from Montech to Valence d’Agen isn’t 58 km but 40 km (which makes more sense with the 66 km to Agen, since there are 25 km between Valence d’Agen and Agen). It doesn’t seem wise to indicate "Montauban 10 km" on the left bank of the canal (this sends cyclists the wrong way). This should be on the right-bank sign (just before the footbridge), where the Montauban sign already exists.
Hoping for a favorable response, I send my respectful regards,
Gilles ROULAND
Gilles ROULAND 4 rue Pierre Perret 82400 VALENCE d’AGEN
To the President of the Departmental Council of Tarn-et-Garonne Subject: Voie Verte along the Montech Canal
For 10 years, I’ve used my bicycle to commute from home to work. It’s not much to brag about since the trip is only 6 km under pleasant riding conditions.
I also go on vacation by bike. To show how easy it is to travel several hundred kilometers, I’ve documented my various trips on Voyage Forum: http://voyageforum.com/...post=1000920#1000920
I’ve ridden along the Canal Latéral à la Garonne and the Canal du Midi several times. I know how different it is to ride a loaded bike (30 kg) on a dirt towpath with stones and roots compared to a paved path. That’s why I want to commend your department for creating and maintaining the bike path along the Canal Latéral à la Garonne—its success is clear from how busy it is.
I took it a step further by using my bike for work trips. I wouldn’t have even considered it without such infrastructure: http://voyageforum.com/...post=2799841#2799841
Last year, taking advantage of the car-free towpaths, I safely rode from Valence d’Agen to Lyon along the Canal de Garonne, Canal du Midi, and then from Sète to the Rhône, enjoying nature the whole way. I did a week-long training course and returned by train: http://voyageforum.com/...post=6006514#6006514
I want to congratulate your predecessors for building the bike path between Montech and Lacourt-Saint-Pierre. It’s a great achievement, and I hope you’ll continue this project. With 11 km of Voie Verte, you’ll give people from Montauban a wonderful place to walk while also offering French and international tourists a gateway to the charming port of Montech and its heritage, including the water slope. Connecting it to the Canal Latéral à la Garonne will boost our area’s appeal—a point well understood by the new owner of the lockkeeper’s house, now the Bistrot Constant: http://voyageforum.com/...post=6988221#6988221
It’s unfortunate that before Montauban, the towpath is blocked by a chain. Not even a stroller could get through—let alone a tricycle, a child trailer, or a wheelchair. See photo: http://voyageforum.com/...post=6990563#6990563 Just before the port of Montech, the signs need to be corrected (last photo). The distance from Montech to Valence d’Agen isn’t 58 km but 40 km (which makes more sense with the 66 km to Agen, since there are 25 km between Valence d’Agen and Agen). It doesn’t seem wise to indicate "Montauban 10 km" on the left bank of the canal (this sends cyclists the wrong way). This should be on the right-bank sign (just before the footbridge), where the Montauban sign already exists.
Hoping for a favorable response, I send my respectful regards,
Gilles ROULAND
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I got a response from the Tarn-et-Garonne Departmental Council.
I'm happy with how quick it was and the content. See attached scan.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
The 500 km of the canal between the two seas offer a chance to take on a challenge and draw attention to a cause. Today, I caught up with Manuel TORRE TRUEBA, who has been running since Tuesday from the Étang de Thau to reach Castets-en-Dorthe by Sunday: https://www.facebook.com/events/425841234264024/
I met up with Manu and his two cycling companions and a young runner who set off from Castelsarrasin just before their 23 km morning break. After cheering them up with some nougat, I joined them for 15 km to encourage them on their 95 km stage to Mas d’Agenais.
To contribute a bit more to these kilometers, I’m going to write a check for 30 € to the Friedreich’s Ataxia association. Hats off to Manu, who’s running 100 km a day to support children with this rare genetic disease (when I do it by bike on my trips, I feel like my legs are tiny in comparison).
Meanwhile, others are embezzling millions at FIFA. No wonder soccer—"the people’s opium"—is run by a mafia just like drugs. Sorry, but I can’t help RANTING about it.
I met up with Manu and his two cycling companions and a young runner who set off from Castelsarrasin just before their 23 km morning break. After cheering them up with some nougat, I joined them for 15 km to encourage them on their 95 km stage to Mas d’Agenais.
To contribute a bit more to these kilometers, I’m going to write a check for 30 € to the Friedreich’s Ataxia association. Hats off to Manu, who’s running 100 km a day to support children with this rare genetic disease (when I do it by bike on my trips, I feel like my legs are tiny in comparison).
Meanwhile, others are embezzling millions at FIFA. No wonder soccer—"the people’s opium"—is run by a mafia just like drugs. Sorry, but I can’t help RANTING about it.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
At the end of the month, I’m joining a week-long bike-camping trip organized by Philippe Lasnier, starting from Cahors. It’s the same route he just did, except this time there’ll be 15 recumbent bikes:
http://www.as3r.fr/voyage-42.html
Since there’s a "bit" of elevation and the trike will be loaded, I decided to add a smaller chainring. Currently, the 14 speeds on the Rohloff are paired with a 52-tooth chainring, giving a gear range of 7.68 m—perfect for outpacing upright bikes on descents—but 1.46 m is a bit long for climbs. With a 34-tooth chainring, the range will go from 0.95 to 5.02 m.
I’ve booked an appointment at Cyclable to make this addition and replace the right mirror I broke during my first crash. I overestimated the stability in a turn—the inside wheel lifted, and the trike tipped over, causing the mirror and fender to scrape against the pavement (and my hand and arm). Luckily, it was the bell that took the most damage. This’ll make me more cautious on descents, but it also takes away some of the fun.
I also asked them to remove the oil (from the first service) on the chain and in the cables and switch back to dry lube: http://squirtlube.fr/
I was supposed to leave from Valence d’Agen on the morning of Wednesday the 10th and drop off the trike around 6 PM in Toulouse to pick it up Thursday midday. But with storms in the forecast, I decided to fold the trike and put it in the Zoe. That let me leave in the early afternoon instead. However, driving the 95 km to Toulouse in an electric car turned out to be a challenge—maybe even harder than biking there. Not because of range, which was enough to get there. Though the car’s built-in GPS kept warning me about "insufficient charge" even though the battery was at 100% and showed the usual 160 km range. Maybe the system assumes I’d be driving at 130 km/h on the highway (which wouldn’t be wrong, since the Zoe’s instant consumption meter shows it needs 10,000 W to go 90 km/h and 20,000 W at 130). That’s surprising because, in a gas car, consumption doesn’t double from 90 to 130 km/h (gas is pretty efficient!).
So I chose the toll-free route, but the GPS still kept warning me about insufficient range. Not very reassuring! I hit the highway at 90 km/h and checked that my range wasn’t plummeting. Since consumption was normal, I gradually increased the cruise control—first time I’ve really used it—and worked my way up to 100 km/h. The real challenge wasn’t the route, though—it was finding a place to recharge. Toulouse should’ve made it easy, especially since the Cyclable store is right near the Capitole, and the Vinci parking garage there has 9 spots for charging EVs. But Chargemap users say the Zoe won’t charge there:
http://fr.chargemap.com/points/details/parking-vinci-toulouse
I called VinciPark, and they confirmed the issue without knowing the cause. After spending 2 hours the night before noting down addresses, I saw all the problems users reported with most of the city’s charging stations: gas cars parked in EV spots, chargers not powered, touchscreens broken from tree resin, payment badges not recognized or accepted, incompatible or broken plugs… I ended up calling a private individual who, like me, offers charging at home. He was willing to let me use his 32 A cable, but he recommended the Renault dealership in L’Union, which offers free access to its fast charger 24/7.
So that’s the address I entered into the GPS:
http://fr.chargemap.com/points/details/renault-union
I’m really grateful to this dealership (see my comment)—in 50 minutes, they got me from 50% to 100%, which would’ve taken 4 hours at home. By driving sensibly for those 90 km, I’d only used half the battery, which still showed 77 km remaining. Now I was ready to tackle the city and the return trip the next day.
The store is so close to the city center that locals treat the little Rue de la Bourse as a pedestrian zone. They don’t hear the Zoe’s electronic hum until the last second, and I had to crawl along behind them. I stopped at No. 24, turned on my hazard lights, and left just enough space for bikes in the narrow street, which has no parking. The salesperson helped me unload the trike, and I quickly gave my instructions. Already, 5 cars had piled up, and horns were blaring.
After staying overnight at my daughter’s, I picked up the Scorpion late Thursday morning, this time parking 1 km away to have time to check everything and make adjustments without blocking the road. I also got to test it out on the way back to the car.
David couldn’t reuse the original chainring, so he installed a 52- and a 34-tooth from the same manufacturer. I’m now equipped to tackle loaded climbs. Without a derailleur, I select the chainring by pulling the chain with my hand—possible thanks to the cables that protect the chain along its long path. I left with a new mirror and a bottle of biodegradable lube but forgot the maintenance book I’d brought to have it stamped (for the purchase and first service).
I made it back to Valence d’Agen without any issues, except for the heat in the cabin—I didn’t dare use the AC (even though I could’ve, since I still had 60 km of range left). The first climb test was a success: I could climb at 4 km/h with the small chainring (remember, balance isn’t an issue, and you can even stop on a climb and start again without straining), whereas with the big one, I had to stay at 6 km/h to maintain a decent pedaling cadence.
I’m ready to hit the Voies Vertes and Véloroutes, as the new map invites:
http://www.af3v.org/Guide-des-VVV-de-France.html
IGN released it just in time for vacation, in collaboration with AF3V, whose app lets you scan the QR code and enter the route number to get info section by section.
Still no word on my letter to Ségolène Royal about promoting bike and train use. This time, I’m trying a petition to make things happen:
https://www.change.org/p/%C3%A0-madame-la-ministre-de-l-ecologie-du-d%C3%A9veloppement-durable-et-de-l-energie-taxer-le-transport-a%C3%A9rien-proportionnellement-%C3%A0-ses-%C3%A9missions-afin-de-ne-pas-fausser-la-concurrence-avec-les-autres-modes-de-d%C3%A9placement-moins-polluants
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
I’m glad I had a small tray added for my first recumbent trike bike-camping trip. For this itinerant trek between the Lot and Dordogne (see the route photo), the landscapes were stunning, sunshine all week, a pool every evening, and constant good vibes shared among 15 cyclists.
Video of the vehicles, each more loaded than the last:
https://share.orange.fr/#UJbHdj2adq19c730b674
This week was organized by the AFV, which I’ve just joined. You can find the GPS route and campsite details on their site: velorizontal.bbfr.net/...2-20-au-28-juin-... We should support associations that work to promote cycling. I’ve been a member of AF3V for years, and with them, I rode the EuroVelo 6 from Vienna to Nantes last year: www.af3v.org/ And with CyclotransEurope, I’m heading to Copenhagen for the first time: eurovelo3.fr/...andonnees/rando2015/ on an upright bike. Have a great summer, everyone!
This week was organized by the AFV, which I’ve just joined. You can find the GPS route and campsite details on their site: velorizontal.bbfr.net/...2-20-au-28-juin-... We should support associations that work to promote cycling. I’ve been a member of AF3V for years, and with them, I rode the EuroVelo 6 from Vienna to Nantes last year: www.af3v.org/ And with CyclotransEurope, I’m heading to Copenhagen for the first time: eurovelo3.fr/...andonnees/rando2015/ on an upright bike. Have a great summer, everyone!
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Since I’m leaving for Copenhagen this Sunday, I can’t join the fifth activist bike ride organized by the tireless cycling advocate Julien Savary from http://www.vvv-sud.org/.
It’s too bad I’ll miss out on pushing for the creation of the Tarn Valley bike route—http://randovelosud2015.le-pic.org/.
Since it started in Moissac this Friday, I was able to attend the briefing and catch up with a few fellow riders to cheer them on at the Île du Bidounet campsite when they handed out documents to each participant.
http://www.camping-moissac.com/
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
A big thank you to CyclotransEurope for organizing the Copenhagen-Paris ride. We started with 60 people in Denmark, including the bravest with their camping gear and others staying in youth hostels. Of course, not everyone had 5 weeks to spare, so 25 of us left in Bremen. Some joined for just one stage, others for a few days or weeks to cycle for the Climate. Klaus Bondam, CEO of the Danish Cyclists' Federation (DCF), first explained how Copenhagen became a bike-friendly city while preparing for the 2009 Climate Conference, which was a global failure. After a city tour, we faced cold and wind for several days before turning south to follow the Eurovelo 3 route, which runs from Trondheim, Norway, to Santiago de Compostela—on paper, at least, since it doesn’t actually exist. We started on the old oxen path, then rode on dirt, stones, and sometimes sand, enduring a few falls and multiple flat tires. In northern Germany, villages are connected by bike paths, but they’re rarely paved. A Belgian managed to puncture his tire three times in one day. He also found a replacement tire for his partner on a Sunday from a local. Unfortunately, it burst a few days later after a forceful inflation following kilometers of struggling to maintain enough pressure. A German bike shop forced them to push their bikes for 2 km, refusing to sell a tire without seeing the bike. Route difficulties and delays from managing a group (with a spotter at every intersection waiting for the sweep bike) meant we almost never arrived by 6 PM, the dinner time at hostels. We were lucky to have Gudrund ("Goudroune"), a member of the ADFC (German cycling club) and a French teacher, as our guide. She showed us the Ruhr Valley and took us up a slag heap to the Tetrahedron of Bottrop. It was during the climb that Juliette, 16, fell. Her derailleur bent under the strain and hit the spokes. Another bike shop refused to replace it, citing the quality of the MTB, and only straightened it. Her mother took advantage of a rest day to buy her a new one. This was the second German bicycle after the one stolen in Hamburg from the hostel parking lot with no bike storage. No replacement for the handbag stolen at breakfast in the same hostel, and a call to the police to cut the lock of the bag’s owner. Then the cobblestones in Belgium made us suffer too. The owner of a folding bike was "lucky" that her handlebar broke in front of a train station—it took 3 weeks to get the part. She went home and rejoined us with a borrowed identical bike. It wasn’t until we reached France that we found Eurovelo 3 signage for part of the route. In Compiègne, young people with their educator from the city of Pantin accompanied us to Paris. They loved the experience. But before the first 40 km, one of them fell on a busy road. Without a shoulder, he lost his balance on the grass to the right. His wheel was so warped it touched the fork. Two men stood on it to straighten it and reach Senlis, where the local association gave him another. The educator following him was less lucky—already having had both knees operated on, he couldn’t keep pedaling the next day after the inevitable impact of the fallen bike. Fortunately, the young people from Pantin were adults and made it to Paris, where they, like us, were received at the 4th arrondissement town hall. I covered 2,150 km, while a camper did over 2,200. Some did a little less, taking the train for 2 or 3 long stages (100 km). Fourteen of us completed the entire route, including Juliette. But everyone was brave, especially a woman whose small chainring stubbornly refused to shift, even after a bike shop worked on it, due to the supermarket-quality bike. Bravo to Léo, 13, and Lucie, 10, who rode 1,000 km with their camping parents.
Everyone showed that bike travel is possible. But it would be easier on marked bike routes and safer with greenways. No doubt COP 21 will announce major initiatives for cycling and trains, which, when combined, are the only viable transport modes—with funding from taxing air travel, the most polluting transport mode. Meanwhile, my petition hasn’t gotten many signatures. https://www.change.org/...ment-moins-polluants
Of course, I was overloaded, but many in shorts and sandals with little socks envied my cycling bibs in the Baltic cold. Yet, after buying two Schwalbe Marathon Plus tires, said to be puncture-proof, I didn’t bring a spare inner tube. Everyone told me it was a mistake because they eventually puncture. I decided to buy one but only did so after 1,000 km because we always arrived after shops closed. Anyway, I didn’t get a flat. I took the opportunity to buy a center kickstand. My side kickstand twisted under the weight on the frame bar. I realized I couldn’t mount the kickstand under the frame because, when raised, it would touch the chain. Not even the mechanic at a German train station bike shop (despite my "it touches the chain") understood—he mounted it, then removed it when I showed him by putting the chain on the big chainring. I bought a used side kickstand from him because he didn’t have a new one. But it sank under the weight of my panniers. So I bought the same one from Juliette’s old bike. No more needing to stay on my MTB during the long waits for flat tires to be fixed. Indeed, it’s easy to find a tree or post when you’re alone, but harder with 50 people. That’s why I had 4 kickstands on board.
I carried a new gear shifter (I had only replaced the front one before leaving) for nothing. But my piece of electrical wire was useful to a cyclist whose fabric panniers didn’t survive the 2,000 km. And the plastic piece brought by a woman helped protect another cyclist’s inner tube from a punctured tire.
My only vibration-related issue was losing a bolt that secured my front rack to the frame. Luckily, I had brought a spare with a few bolts.
We met the UN’s climate secretary in Bonn. She rode a few kilometers with us: https://www.youtube.com/...amp;feature=youtu.be We visited the Ruhr Valley: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kSJriucWAKs I borrowed a Jacques Brel song to dedicate to Erick Marchandise, one of the organizers of the 15th CyclotransEuropean ride: https://www.youtube.com/...amp;feature=youtu.be We met Alternatiba and their 5,000 km climate tour before Brussels: https://www.youtube.com/...amp;feature=youtu.be We were filmed by AFP in Paris: http://www.20minutes.fr/...au-secours-du-climat
Everyone showed that bike travel is possible. But it would be easier on marked bike routes and safer with greenways. No doubt COP 21 will announce major initiatives for cycling and trains, which, when combined, are the only viable transport modes—with funding from taxing air travel, the most polluting transport mode. Meanwhile, my petition hasn’t gotten many signatures. https://www.change.org/...ment-moins-polluants
Of course, I was overloaded, but many in shorts and sandals with little socks envied my cycling bibs in the Baltic cold. Yet, after buying two Schwalbe Marathon Plus tires, said to be puncture-proof, I didn’t bring a spare inner tube. Everyone told me it was a mistake because they eventually puncture. I decided to buy one but only did so after 1,000 km because we always arrived after shops closed. Anyway, I didn’t get a flat. I took the opportunity to buy a center kickstand. My side kickstand twisted under the weight on the frame bar. I realized I couldn’t mount the kickstand under the frame because, when raised, it would touch the chain. Not even the mechanic at a German train station bike shop (despite my "it touches the chain") understood—he mounted it, then removed it when I showed him by putting the chain on the big chainring. I bought a used side kickstand from him because he didn’t have a new one. But it sank under the weight of my panniers. So I bought the same one from Juliette’s old bike. No more needing to stay on my MTB during the long waits for flat tires to be fixed. Indeed, it’s easy to find a tree or post when you’re alone, but harder with 50 people. That’s why I had 4 kickstands on board.
I carried a new gear shifter (I had only replaced the front one before leaving) for nothing. But my piece of electrical wire was useful to a cyclist whose fabric panniers didn’t survive the 2,000 km. And the plastic piece brought by a woman helped protect another cyclist’s inner tube from a punctured tire.
My only vibration-related issue was losing a bolt that secured my front rack to the frame. Luckily, I had brought a spare with a few bolts.
We met the UN’s climate secretary in Bonn. She rode a few kilometers with us: https://www.youtube.com/...amp;feature=youtu.be We visited the Ruhr Valley: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kSJriucWAKs I borrowed a Jacques Brel song to dedicate to Erick Marchandise, one of the organizers of the 15th CyclotransEuropean ride: https://www.youtube.com/...amp;feature=youtu.be We met Alternatiba and their 5,000 km climate tour before Brussels: https://www.youtube.com/...amp;feature=youtu.be We were filmed by AFP in Paris: http://www.20minutes.fr/...au-secours-du-climat
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Copenhagen to Paris, continued.
Thanks to Nadège, one of the cyclists who, in addition to carrying her camping gear, was our camerawoman, sound recordist, and editor.
In Belgium: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84o8a52WgMI
I borrowed Bourvil’s "Clair de Lune":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELO-Hpjnwak
EuroVelo 3 exists in France:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zMaYKrnwm1II also brought back a souvenir from my dip in the Baltic Sea (13 °C). I noticed there was fuel oil on my swimsuit (I had to throw it away). Maybe we didn’t have the best idea swimming on a beach facing a thermal power plant. Pollution’s got to go *somewhere*! Anyway, my petition is taking off (humor).https://www.change.org/...ment-moins-polluants
Even Pope Francis, in his encyclical *Laudato Si’*, calls for degrowth in some parts of the world. Yet our leaders remain deaf and blinded by Growth, seeing it as the panacea. Like Winston Churchill said, “You chose to avoid war at the price of dishonor. You will have dishonor, and you will have war.” I’d say: Between growth and degrowth, you chose growth—and you’ll end up with both. Explanation: The stronger the growth (the goal being to hit the wall as fast as possible), the faster degrowth will kick in (through resource depletion and system collapse). Still, I bought my Montauban–Paris round-trip train ticket with a sleeper berth + bike to join the protest on November 30th from Paris to Le Bourget: http://cyclotourisme-mag.com/...ec-cyclotranseu... I can’t miss this meet-up to challenge the world on the role of bikes in reducing transportation-related harm. Anyway, I won’t see another COP in Paris in my lifetime—or it’ll be too late to act.
EuroVelo 3 exists in France:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zMaYKrnwm1II also brought back a souvenir from my dip in the Baltic Sea (13 °C). I noticed there was fuel oil on my swimsuit (I had to throw it away). Maybe we didn’t have the best idea swimming on a beach facing a thermal power plant. Pollution’s got to go *somewhere*! Anyway, my petition is taking off (humor).https://www.change.org/...ment-moins-polluants
Even Pope Francis, in his encyclical *Laudato Si’*, calls for degrowth in some parts of the world. Yet our leaders remain deaf and blinded by Growth, seeing it as the panacea. Like Winston Churchill said, “You chose to avoid war at the price of dishonor. You will have dishonor, and you will have war.” I’d say: Between growth and degrowth, you chose growth—and you’ll end up with both. Explanation: The stronger the growth (the goal being to hit the wall as fast as possible), the faster degrowth will kick in (through resource depletion and system collapse). Still, I bought my Montauban–Paris round-trip train ticket with a sleeper berth + bike to join the protest on November 30th from Paris to Le Bourget: http://cyclotourisme-mag.com/...ec-cyclotranseu... I can’t miss this meet-up to challenge the world on the role of bikes in reducing transportation-related harm. Anyway, I won’t see another COP in Paris in my lifetime—or it’ll be too late to act.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Go West
A buddy I’ve already hiked with suggested we head to Morcenx (Landes), where his parents’ old house is. We’re going with the bike route Viamichelin suggests: http://www.viamichelin.fr/web/Itineraires?departure=82400%20Valence%2C%20France&departureId=31NDJ5Z3oxMGNORFF1TVRBNE56Yz1jTUM0NE9URTFNdz09&arrival=40110%20Morcenx%2C%20France&arrivalId=31NDJqMTUxMGNORFF1TURNek1EUT1jTFRBdU9URXlPUT09&index=&vehicle=3&distance=km&corridor= and I tear out six pages I’d highlighted from my road guide. The weather forecast is perfect, so we set off with our identical bikes (bought 25 years ago in different regions when mountain biking was just starting) and his tent, which we’ll use for the necessary stop. Monday, 09/28/15: Valence d’Agen 9 AM – Gabarret 7 PM, 96 km We leave Tarn-et-Garonne and its morning mist after crossing Dunes. We alternate between climbs and descents through the rolling landscapes of Lot-et-Garonne, near the Gers, without ever setting wheels in the latter—we follow its northern border for many kilometers. We notice our average speed, including breaks, hovers around 10 km/h. On top of the terrain, we can’t resist exploring the bastides along the way: http://www.lamontjoie.com/bastideenaquitaine/promenade.html With no water sources, my buddy asks a school cafeteria worker to refill our water bottles. The generous sunshine and our efforts had left us empty (well, I still had one and a half small bottles out of the three I’d brought). In http://www.francescas.info/, we picnic under the region’s typical arcades. In Mézin, the waitress spontaneously offers us small spoons to eat the mille-feuilles we’d just bought from the bakery to go with our beers. After 86 km, we reach Les Landes and decide to look for a large enough village to find a restaurant for dinner, where we’ll pitch the tent nearby. Arriving in Gabarret and seeing the sign for the municipal campsite, I ask a woman if it’s open. She says yes, as long as the Barbotan thermal baths are hosting guests. Great—we’ll have access to restrooms and lighting. The reception is closed when we arrive, just as it will be when we leave. I’ll leave the payment in the mailbox. Caravans and RVs occupy the spots. We’re the only ones crazy enough to sleep under canvas. We pick a grassy spot—it’ll make up for my mini mattress, which I forgot. Luckily, the village’s only open restaurant is http://www.hotel-restaurant-le-relais.com/. With its six rooms, it’s currently hosting traveling workers. The owner serves us an excellent meal at a reasonable price. I ask if we can have breakfast. He agrees, even though it’s usually reserved for hotel guests. That’ll be a nice comfort in the chilly morning.
A buddy I’ve already hiked with suggested we head to Morcenx (Landes), where his parents’ old house is. We’re going with the bike route Viamichelin suggests: http://www.viamichelin.fr/web/Itineraires?departure=82400%20Valence%2C%20France&departureId=31NDJ5Z3oxMGNORFF1TVRBNE56Yz1jTUM0NE9URTFNdz09&arrival=40110%20Morcenx%2C%20France&arrivalId=31NDJqMTUxMGNORFF1TURNek1EUT1jTFRBdU9URXlPUT09&index=&vehicle=3&distance=km&corridor= and I tear out six pages I’d highlighted from my road guide. The weather forecast is perfect, so we set off with our identical bikes (bought 25 years ago in different regions when mountain biking was just starting) and his tent, which we’ll use for the necessary stop. Monday, 09/28/15: Valence d’Agen 9 AM – Gabarret 7 PM, 96 km We leave Tarn-et-Garonne and its morning mist after crossing Dunes. We alternate between climbs and descents through the rolling landscapes of Lot-et-Garonne, near the Gers, without ever setting wheels in the latter—we follow its northern border for many kilometers. We notice our average speed, including breaks, hovers around 10 km/h. On top of the terrain, we can’t resist exploring the bastides along the way: http://www.lamontjoie.com/bastideenaquitaine/promenade.html With no water sources, my buddy asks a school cafeteria worker to refill our water bottles. The generous sunshine and our efforts had left us empty (well, I still had one and a half small bottles out of the three I’d brought). In http://www.francescas.info/, we picnic under the region’s typical arcades. In Mézin, the waitress spontaneously offers us small spoons to eat the mille-feuilles we’d just bought from the bakery to go with our beers. After 86 km, we reach Les Landes and decide to look for a large enough village to find a restaurant for dinner, where we’ll pitch the tent nearby. Arriving in Gabarret and seeing the sign for the municipal campsite, I ask a woman if it’s open. She says yes, as long as the Barbotan thermal baths are hosting guests. Great—we’ll have access to restrooms and lighting. The reception is closed when we arrive, just as it will be when we leave. I’ll leave the payment in the mailbox. Caravans and RVs occupy the spots. We’re the only ones crazy enough to sleep under canvas. We pick a grassy spot—it’ll make up for my mini mattress, which I forgot. Luckily, the village’s only open restaurant is http://www.hotel-restaurant-le-relais.com/. With its six rooms, it’s currently hosting traveling workers. The owner serves us an excellent meal at a reasonable price. I ask if we can have breakfast. He agrees, even though it’s usually reserved for hotel guests. That’ll be a nice comfort in the chilly morning.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
Tuesday 29/09 Gabarret 09:30 AM Morcenx 5:00 PM 74 km
In our sleeping bags, we were warm enough at the start of the night. By morning, Dominique added his sweatshirt to sleep better. I didn’t dare search for the zipper, which was who-knows-where after tossing and turning. Nor my clothes, all soaked from condensation dripping from the single-layer tent fabric. I expected this kind of hassle, having experienced it with my own budget tent, but my friend really wanted to try his out. To be honest, I was even expecting worse if we’d been wild camping.
Since I’d seen the day before that a greenway runs from Gabarret to Mont-de-Marsan along the old railway line, we decide to take it. www.landes.fr/...e-marsan-et-armagnac Dominique didn’t want to bike between Mont-de-Marsan and Morcenx due to the traffic on that route, and we had to head north. But the term "Voie Verte" (Greenway) was too tempting. Though rest areas and historical signs dot its 50 km, this path—better suited for hiking, horseback riding, and mountain biking—shouldn’t be called a "Voie Verte." These routes should accommodate rollerbladers and wheelchairs.
I learn this the hard way with my overinflated tires on the rough terrain. Dominique enjoys it, and it’s true the scenery is pretty—but not for biking with a loaded bike. That’s why the AF3V only lists 16 km: www.af3v.org/...he-VVV-.html?voie=49
After 50 km, it’s not just me who’s exhausted. I notice my rack’s struts have worn into the plastic of my panniers. I should’ve added padding.
We decide to take the train between Mont-de-Marsan and Morcenx. The SNCF app on my phone shows a train every 2 hours, but that’s nonsense—it doesn’t match the schedule the ticket agent gives us. He confirms all TER trains accept bikes (for free).
We arrive in Morcenx after 30 minutes. We shop for dinner, breakfast, and lunch in the town center. His house is nearby. We unload the bikes and set the tent, sleeping bags, and all the clothes that spent the night in the tent out to dry. We bike to a woods 5 km away, where Dominique usually finds mushrooms. We just have time to gather some chanterelles for the omelet before nightfall.
Since I’d seen the day before that a greenway runs from Gabarret to Mont-de-Marsan along the old railway line, we decide to take it. www.landes.fr/...e-marsan-et-armagnac Dominique didn’t want to bike between Mont-de-Marsan and Morcenx due to the traffic on that route, and we had to head north. But the term "Voie Verte" (Greenway) was too tempting. Though rest areas and historical signs dot its 50 km, this path—better suited for hiking, horseback riding, and mountain biking—shouldn’t be called a "Voie Verte." These routes should accommodate rollerbladers and wheelchairs.
I learn this the hard way with my overinflated tires on the rough terrain. Dominique enjoys it, and it’s true the scenery is pretty—but not for biking with a loaded bike. That’s why the AF3V only lists 16 km: www.af3v.org/...he-VVV-.html?voie=49
After 50 km, it’s not just me who’s exhausted. I notice my rack’s struts have worn into the plastic of my panniers. I should’ve added padding.
We decide to take the train between Mont-de-Marsan and Morcenx. The SNCF app on my phone shows a train every 2 hours, but that’s nonsense—it doesn’t match the schedule the ticket agent gives us. He confirms all TER trains accept bikes (for free).
We arrive in Morcenx after 30 minutes. We shop for dinner, breakfast, and lunch in the town center. His house is nearby. We unload the bikes and set the tent, sleeping bags, and all the clothes that spent the night in the tent out to dry. We bike to a woods 5 km away, where Dominique usually finds mushrooms. We just have time to gather some chanterelles for the omelet before nightfall.
Facteur4 : Objectif pour 2050 de diviser par 4 l'émission de gaz à effet de serre.
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This travel journal summarizes a trip I took in March to Argentine and Chilean Patagonia. It starts in El Calafate and ends in Ushuaia. During my planning, I considered looking into the Australis cruise from Punta Arenas to Ushuaia, as well as the W trek in Torres del Paine National Park. In both cases, I was put off by the prices. Instead of the cruise, I found two interesting wildlife excursions from Punta Arenas: whale watching in the Strait of Magellan and observing king penguins in Tierra del Fuego. The journey to Ushuaia was by bus. For Torres del Paine, things were a bit confusing, so I reached out to two agencies. In the end, I went with a rental car option, overnight stays on-site, and day hikes. I shared my full itinerary with the agency and ended up being taken care of by a local Argentine agency and a Chilean one.
So, here we go...
March 2nd — Departure by bus from Latour at 6:50 AM. The journey isn’t direct: we pass through Elne then Corneilla. In Perpignan, I switch to a BlablaBus heading to Barcelona’s northern bus station. Before reaching Le Perthus, French police stop us to check IDs. Several people aren’t in order, but after about fifteen minutes, we’re on our way again. We’re checked again at La Jonquera: this time, the wait lasts almost forty-five minutes while police identify those in violation and wait for a vehicle to pick them up. The driver then tries to make up for lost time; we finally arrive at our destination half an hour late.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.

Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.

Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church

, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes

—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit. I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.



Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.


We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.

Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.

Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church

, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes

—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit. I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.



Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.


We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.
You can post your personal photos in the following thread: https://voyageforum.com/forum/quelque-part-en-thailande-d10655574/
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style. All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert. However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about it. I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.

I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guardians for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course. Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious. Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs. It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons. That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though? Much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been full of holes for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field. A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and enormous beast with its own garden. Yet it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water there for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not just for fun—these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style. All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert. However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about it. I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.

I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guardians for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course. Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious. Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs. It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons. That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though? Much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been full of holes for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field. A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and enormous beast with its own garden. Yet it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water there for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not just for fun—these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
Preamble
June 2024. While hiking with my brother on the GR 36 Tour du Morvan, I catch sight now and then of strange rectangular markers fixed to tree trunks. Against a bright orange background, a deep black Greek tau topped with a white dove. My first encounter with the Assisi Way. The Way of St. Francis: a pilgrimage route linking Vézelay in Burgundy to Assisi in Italy, covering nearly 1,800 km. It felt like an obvious next step—I immediately knew I’d take it on, attempt the adventure solo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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


Finally, we head to Jalan Alor to grab a bite in this super busy street. Big sleep ahead! 😴
After the summer of 2022 left me with a sense of unfinished business, here I am back in Swedish Lapland for the summer of 2024, ready to attempt the Sarek crossing again—and this time, tackle part of the Kungsleden too.
After much hesitation, my companion Jean Marie and I decided to start with the Kungsleden, which, from what we’ve read, is stunning but very crowded (and it really is!!), and finish with the wilder option: SAREK! This park is known as Europe’s last wild space—I think it’s incredibly inspiring!! The downside of this choice is that there are no resupply options in Sarek, and the Kungsleden isn’t exactly set up for long treks either, so we’ll have to carry a lot of food for the first part with Sarek in mind. But hey, we’re motivated!
Our plan is to start in Abisko (classic), head to Vakkotavare (also classic, but with some variations to avoid the official route and the crowds), then continue the Kungsleden from Saltoluokta. Before Aktse, we’ll set off on an east-to-west crossing of Sarek (weather-dependent, since aside from the Skarja hut in the center of the park, there’s no shelter if conditions turn bad). At least we’ll be on the right side of the park to climb Skierfe and enjoy the jaw-dropping view of Rappaladen if we have to abandon the Sarek crossing.
That adds up to 17 days of trekking, including 1 rest day + 1 buffer day for weather delays.
So if you’re interested, I invite you to follow our overstuffed backpacks!
08/03 - Abisko – 5km before Abiskojaure Some info (guides used for prep, SFT map, sending food to Saltoluokta) 08/04 – 5km before Abiskojaure - on the east shore of Lake Alisjavri 08/05 – East shore of Lake Alisjavri – just before Tjaktja 08/06 – Just before Tjaktja – above the Salka hut via Nallo 08/07 - Salka – just past Singi + side trip to Djalson Lake 08/08 - Singi – Teusajaure 08/09 - Teusajaure - Vakkotavare (end of the first section of the Kungsleden) 08/10 – rest day in Saltoluokta + round trip to the Sámi village of Pietjaure 08/11 – Saltoluokta – Sitojaure 08/12 - Sitojaure - Skierfe - So, Sarek or no Sarek? 08/13 – Skierfe – somewhere above Rapadalen 08/14 – Somewhere above Rapadalen – above the Skarki hut Coming up: 08/15 – Above the Skarki hut - Skarja
After much hesitation, my companion Jean Marie and I decided to start with the Kungsleden, which, from what we’ve read, is stunning but very crowded (and it really is!!), and finish with the wilder option: SAREK! This park is known as Europe’s last wild space—I think it’s incredibly inspiring!! The downside of this choice is that there are no resupply options in Sarek, and the Kungsleden isn’t exactly set up for long treks either, so we’ll have to carry a lot of food for the first part with Sarek in mind. But hey, we’re motivated!
Our plan is to start in Abisko (classic), head to Vakkotavare (also classic, but with some variations to avoid the official route and the crowds), then continue the Kungsleden from Saltoluokta. Before Aktse, we’ll set off on an east-to-west crossing of Sarek (weather-dependent, since aside from the Skarja hut in the center of the park, there’s no shelter if conditions turn bad). At least we’ll be on the right side of the park to climb Skierfe and enjoy the jaw-dropping view of Rappaladen if we have to abandon the Sarek crossing.
That adds up to 17 days of trekking, including 1 rest day + 1 buffer day for weather delays.
So if you’re interested, I invite you to follow our overstuffed backpacks!
08/03 - Abisko – 5km before Abiskojaure Some info (guides used for prep, SFT map, sending food to Saltoluokta) 08/04 – 5km before Abiskojaure - on the east shore of Lake Alisjavri 08/05 – East shore of Lake Alisjavri – just before Tjaktja 08/06 – Just before Tjaktja – above the Salka hut via Nallo 08/07 - Salka – just past Singi + side trip to Djalson Lake 08/08 - Singi – Teusajaure 08/09 - Teusajaure - Vakkotavare (end of the first section of the Kungsleden) 08/10 – rest day in Saltoluokta + round trip to the Sámi village of Pietjaure 08/11 – Saltoluokta – Sitojaure 08/12 - Sitojaure - Skierfe - So, Sarek or no Sarek? 08/13 – Skierfe – somewhere above Rapadalen 08/14 – Somewhere above Rapadalen – above the Skarki hut Coming up: 08/15 – Above the Skarki hut - Skarja
After a pretty disastrous weather-wise trip to Gran Canaria, we’re hoping this time the sun will shine in Puglia.
It’s not a sure thing, though—the weather’s been awful all over Europe in early May.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16: This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us. The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!! The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that Italian cars don’t have turn signals 😮... except for rental cars).
About an hour later, we arrive at our first accommodation, right in the middle of the countryside near Monopoli. The owner isn’t there, but they’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch. We explore the property:

And the next morning before breakfast, its immediate surroundings:


Sunday, May 17: After our "seaside" experience in Gran Canaria last weekend (packed with people and locals), we decide to start inland. After a hearty breakfast,

we head toward Alberobello, a super touristy village famous for its trulli—those stone houses with conical roofs. We easily find a free parking spot on a street near the Aia Piccola district, where some trulli are still lived in year-round.


We almost immediately come across the Trullo Sovrano (the only two-story one), which you can visit (but we skip it—it’s opening time, and there’s already a line).

From there, we head down toward the Basilica of Cosma e Damiano... but we don’t go in because there’s a mass.

Now we’re on the main Piazza del Popolo, which connects the two districts of Alberobello: Rione Aia Piccola and Rione Monti, the more touristy one.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16: This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us. The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!! The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that Italian cars don’t have turn signals 😮... except for rental cars).
About an hour later, we arrive at our first accommodation, right in the middle of the countryside near Monopoli. The owner isn’t there, but they’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch. We explore the property:

And the next morning before breakfast, its immediate surroundings:


Sunday, May 17: After our "seaside" experience in Gran Canaria last weekend (packed with people and locals), we decide to start inland. After a hearty breakfast,

we head toward Alberobello, a super touristy village famous for its trulli—those stone houses with conical roofs. We easily find a free parking spot on a street near the Aia Piccola district, where some trulli are still lived in year-round.


We almost immediately come across the Trullo Sovrano (the only two-story one), which you can visit (but we skip it—it’s opening time, and there’s already a line).

From there, we head down toward the Basilica of Cosma e Damiano... but we don’t go in because there’s a mass.

Now we’re on the main Piazza del Popolo, which connects the two districts of Alberobello: Rione Aia Piccola and Rione Monti, the more touristy one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued...
Hi everyone,
With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo. But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip. And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.
So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays: - 3 nights in St Lucia - 1 night in Hluhluwe - 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini) - 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini) - 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti) - 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve - 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie
All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.
I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).
To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.

With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo. But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip. And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.
So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays: - 3 nights in St Lucia - 1 night in Hluhluwe - 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini) - 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini) - 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti) - 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve - 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie
All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.
I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).
To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hi there,
I’m diving into a recap of our loop—pretty classic, really—Denver-Yellowstone-Denver this past summer, from July 24 to August 17. Given the sheer number of trip reports already out there (or in the works), and since I don’t have the writing chops or the photography skills of many of you, I’ll keep it practical—well, I’ll try, at least—to share our take on some of the less-visited parks and spots.
First off, a huge thank you to everyone whose trip reports, blogs, websites, comments, and more helped us put together this itinerary. Looking back, it could’ve been even better optimized: a few disappointments when we missed out on some great discoveries, often because we were short on time. Plenty of reasons to come back to the area!
We’re traveling with our four (almost) teens—18, 16, 14, and nearly 12 years old. To keep the trip enjoyable for everyone, we had to make compromises on both sides: cutting a visit short to spend more time swimming, waking up at dawn, and so on. But logistics also played a big role—things like laundry, grocery shopping, and keeping luggage organized could’ve quickly become time-consuming without a little planning. And honestly, I think we visited every Walmart along the way! Blame it on the lack of fridges in some accommodations and, more importantly, the *very* limited space in the car, which made it impossible to bring a proper cooler. I’ll come back to the car saga later.
For accommodations, this year we alternated between basic cabins in KOA campgrounds and Yellowstone (when staying more than one night in the same place) and hotels. Always with a pool (except in Yellowstone, of course), which let the kids burn off energy—because they always have reserves, even after packed days!—and, let’s be honest, gave us a chance to relax. No Wi-Fi issues either; we all had plans with 25 GB of data (a big thanks to Gilles for the amazing deal at 0.99 €). It worked perfectly, even for texts and calls between phones—no extra charges.
Now, onto our route: as I mentioned, a classic Denver-Yellowstone-Denver loop. To avoid rushing through the parks or spending all our time on the road, we prioritized staying as close to them as possible, with at least two nights in each place. And I’ve got to say, it’s really nice to settle in, even if it’s just for two nights. It also helped us deal with the weather, which wasn’t always great during this trip. The trade-off? With vacation time being limited, some driving days ended up being long. We knew that going in, but since we kept a relaxed pace with no time constraints (don’t ask me for timings—I don’t keep track of the clock on vacation, except in the morning to get everyone up before noon!), we sometimes ended up with marathon days.
With that said, I’ll dive into the trip itself in the next post.
I’m diving into a recap of our loop—pretty classic, really—Denver-Yellowstone-Denver this past summer, from July 24 to August 17. Given the sheer number of trip reports already out there (or in the works), and since I don’t have the writing chops or the photography skills of many of you, I’ll keep it practical—well, I’ll try, at least—to share our take on some of the less-visited parks and spots.
First off, a huge thank you to everyone whose trip reports, blogs, websites, comments, and more helped us put together this itinerary. Looking back, it could’ve been even better optimized: a few disappointments when we missed out on some great discoveries, often because we were short on time. Plenty of reasons to come back to the area!
We’re traveling with our four (almost) teens—18, 16, 14, and nearly 12 years old. To keep the trip enjoyable for everyone, we had to make compromises on both sides: cutting a visit short to spend more time swimming, waking up at dawn, and so on. But logistics also played a big role—things like laundry, grocery shopping, and keeping luggage organized could’ve quickly become time-consuming without a little planning. And honestly, I think we visited every Walmart along the way! Blame it on the lack of fridges in some accommodations and, more importantly, the *very* limited space in the car, which made it impossible to bring a proper cooler. I’ll come back to the car saga later.
For accommodations, this year we alternated between basic cabins in KOA campgrounds and Yellowstone (when staying more than one night in the same place) and hotels. Always with a pool (except in Yellowstone, of course), which let the kids burn off energy—because they always have reserves, even after packed days!—and, let’s be honest, gave us a chance to relax. No Wi-Fi issues either; we all had plans with 25 GB of data (a big thanks to Gilles for the amazing deal at 0.99 €). It worked perfectly, even for texts and calls between phones—no extra charges.
Now, onto our route: as I mentioned, a classic Denver-Yellowstone-Denver loop. To avoid rushing through the parks or spending all our time on the road, we prioritized staying as close to them as possible, with at least two nights in each place. And I’ve got to say, it’s really nice to settle in, even if it’s just for two nights. It also helped us deal with the weather, which wasn’t always great during this trip. The trade-off? With vacation time being limited, some driving days ended up being long. We knew that going in, but since we kept a relaxed pace with no time constraints (don’t ask me for timings—I don’t keep track of the clock on vacation, except in the morning to get everyone up before noon!), we sometimes ended up with marathon days.
With that said, I’ll dive into the trip itself in the next post.
15 days across Gran Canaria, El Hierro, and a dash of Tenerife under the storm Thérèse!
The planned itinerary will be slightly disrupted...
(The version without discussions is here)
The planned itinerary will be slightly disrupted...
(The version without discussions is here)
Day 1 – February 14
We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?


We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The region was already very touristy, but I wouldn’t notice the downsides until much later. That Sunday noon, I discovered a large restaurant filled with diners. I can still see the enormous piece of meat they served me, decorated with a little wooden skewer topped with a flag. I kept that one for a long time. Those were the golden days of rich, flowing, thick sauces—so flavorful—and the era of the world’s best fries, made on the spot with the best potatoes. To top it off, I was *exceptionally* allowed a small bottle of apple juice, Orangina, or—even better if possible—Sinalco. Yes, Sinalco—like Orangina, but better. A brand that must’ve disappeared in the 70s, but why, and what a shame! Since then, Orangina’s little bubbles have taken the brand to the other side of the planet—it’s now Japanese.
Year after year, I’d eagerly await that ecstatic moment when the most beautiful castle in Alsace, the Haut-Koenigsbourg, appeared in my field of vision. The perfect model, the archetype that blended into the landscape at the height of a child’s dreams. The trip home always felt like a reality check—less jarring than an alarm clock, but more diffuse and melancholic. From then on, there was only one wish: *When do we leave again?*
Hi there,
Here’s a recap of a trek through the Balkans covering three countries: Albania, Montenegro, and Kosovo. I was with a friend, and we didn’t do the full route (only one day in Kosovo).
It was a wonderful trek through snow-capped mountains and vast flower-filled meadows, meeting incredibly welcoming people.
At the end of the travel journal, I’ll share what I loved and what I liked less.
Day 1: Flight from Paris-Beauvais to Tirana with Wizz Air.
Since Albania isn’t part of Europe when it comes to phone service (at least not yet! :-)), we had to buy a physical SIM card—otherwise, the bill would’ve been sky-high if we’d used our French plan! We got one from Vodafone AL at the airport. You can buy online before leaving with a virtual SIM (e-SIM) for compatible phones, so you don’t have to swap cards. But given the uncertainty about choosing a plan online, we preferred buying one directly at Tirana Airport. Cost: 31 € for 100 GB. That’s way too much—100 GB is overkill. For 40 GB, it’s 27 €, and the plan lasts 21 days. The price difference isn’t huge, and it was cheaper than online. This plan covers all the countries along the Balkan range.
Money tip: All guesthouses and accommodations accept euros. The local currency in Albania is the LEK. In Montenegro, it’s the euro. Bank fees for withdrawing money from an ATM in Albania are pretty steep: 8 € for a withdrawal of 600–700 LEK (about 200 €)! So it’s better to withdraw cash (euros) in France. Oh, and we booked all our accommodations before leaving, but payment is always in cash. Budget around 400–500 € for 9 days of trekking.
Then, a transfer the same day to Shköder, about a 2-hour bus ride. Cost: 10 € per person. Tickets bought directly on the bus. We spent the night in Shköder at a very clean guesthouse, Open Doors B&B. It had a small balcony overlooking the city.
I really liked Shköder, especially its pedestrian street lined with restaurants and lit up at night. It’s a great place to stroll and eat. The food isn’t expensive—two big salads and two beers: 14 € :-) . Fruit prices are also very reasonable: 3 € for a kilo of cherries, compared to 9–10 € in France.
Religions coexist peacefully in these countries—Catholics and Muslims. From our balcony, my friend heard the call to prayer for the first time, coming from one of the city’s mosques.

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

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

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



That evening, we dined at "La Montagne Blanche"—excellent! A delightful mix of grilled meats with potatoes and grilled peppers. Some watermelon slices (which I’m not a fan of) and the famous Raki, a brandy served in Turkey and the Balkans! It was my first time drinking brandy "bottoms up." 😉
To be continued... 😉
Day 1: Flight from Paris-Beauvais to Tirana with Wizz Air.
Since Albania isn’t part of Europe when it comes to phone service (at least not yet! :-)), we had to buy a physical SIM card—otherwise, the bill would’ve been sky-high if we’d used our French plan! We got one from Vodafone AL at the airport. You can buy online before leaving with a virtual SIM (e-SIM) for compatible phones, so you don’t have to swap cards. But given the uncertainty about choosing a plan online, we preferred buying one directly at Tirana Airport. Cost: 31 € for 100 GB. That’s way too much—100 GB is overkill. For 40 GB, it’s 27 €, and the plan lasts 21 days. The price difference isn’t huge, and it was cheaper than online. This plan covers all the countries along the Balkan range.
Money tip: All guesthouses and accommodations accept euros. The local currency in Albania is the LEK. In Montenegro, it’s the euro. Bank fees for withdrawing money from an ATM in Albania are pretty steep: 8 € for a withdrawal of 600–700 LEK (about 200 €)! So it’s better to withdraw cash (euros) in France. Oh, and we booked all our accommodations before leaving, but payment is always in cash. Budget around 400–500 € for 9 days of trekking.Then, a transfer the same day to Shköder, about a 2-hour bus ride. Cost: 10 € per person. Tickets bought directly on the bus. We spent the night in Shköder at a very clean guesthouse, Open Doors B&B. It had a small balcony overlooking the city.
I really liked Shköder, especially its pedestrian street lined with restaurants and lit up at night. It’s a great place to stroll and eat. The food isn’t expensive—two big salads and two beers: 14 € :-) . Fruit prices are also very reasonable: 3 € for a kilo of cherries, compared to 9–10 € in France.
Religions coexist peacefully in these countries—Catholics and Muslims. From our balcony, my friend heard the call to prayer for the first time, coming from one of the city’s mosques.

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

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

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



That evening, we dined at "La Montagne Blanche"—excellent! A delightful mix of grilled meats with potatoes and grilled peppers. Some watermelon slices (which I’m not a fan of) and the famous Raki, a brandy served in Turkey and the Balkans! It was my first time drinking brandy "bottoms up." 😉
To be continued... 😉
Hi everyone,
I’d like to share my family trip to Colombia with kids aged 8. After spending hours browsing the forum and only having two weeks there, we decided to focus on two regions: the Coffee Zone for one week and the Caribbean coast for another. We traveled from August 8 to 23.
Day 1 – First stop: Bogotá
We arrived in Bogotá in the evening on an Air France flight—nothing to complain about, decent service, comfortable, and on time. However, the first night was a miss. We’d booked a hotel near the airport (Abitel Prime) for convenience, but the soundproofing was almost nonexistent; we heard planes as if we were on the runway. Luckily, exhaustion helped us sleep well anyway.
Day 2 – Off to the Coffee Zone and Salento
The next morning, we headed to the airport for a domestic flight to Pereira with LATAM. No issues: punctual and efficient, and in 30 minutes, we landed in Pereira. The landing already set a different mood: lush valleys, endless plantations, and humid air. We picked up our rental car from Localiza. Unfortunately, the experience wasn’t smooth—the paperwork took forever, and the wait tested our patience. Finally free, we hit the road to Salento, one of Quindío’s gems. We arrived in the late afternoon and discovered a colorful village bustling with artisan shops and cafés. Our first stroll helped us soak in the atmosphere before dinner at Bambú restaurant—a great surprise with careful cooking and local flavors. We spent the night at Casa Serafín, a charming little hotel, nicely decorated and well-located… but unfortunately very noisy.
Day 3 – The magic of Cocora Valley
This was one of the trip’s highlights. We set off early for Cocora Valley, famous for its giant wax palms, Colombia’s emblem. We chose the 12 km loop recommended by the *Routard*. The landscapes were spectacular: towering palms, rivers, suspension bridges. It felt like walking through a postcard. The weather was perfect. That evening, we dined at Barnabé restaurant—pleasant setting, decent food, but the bill was a bit steep for what it was. Back to Casa Serafín.
Day 4 – Coffee and panoramic views
The plan was a visit to Finca El Ocaso. For 1.5 hours, we followed a passionate guide who explained the entire coffee process, from harvest to cup. Very educational, accessible for both kids and adults, all in a stunning setting. The tour was in English for us, and we translated for our kids, who aren’t bilingual yet. In the afternoon, we climbed to Salento’s viewpoint. The valley view was superb. That evening, we ate at Veggie Garden, a simple and pleasant spot that was a nice change from the heavier meals of previous days.
Day 5 – Horseback ride to Santa Rita Waterfall
We booked a horseback ride with Cocora Magic. It was a real success: calm horses, a beautiful trail, mountain and meadow landscapes, and finally the refreshing and wild Santa Rita Waterfall. Without a doubt, one of the best moments of our time in the region. We even got a bonus ride up a 300-meter hill. We then headed to Filandia, less known than Salento but just as charming. We spent the late afternoon enjoying the pool at MuchoSur Filandia. The hotel is beautiful, in an idyllic setting. However, we also had soundproofing issues and could hear our neighbors.
Day 6 – Rainy detour through Filandia and Manizales
Rain caught up with us in the early morning: torrents of water made it impossible to go out. We stayed at the hotel, reading quietly. By noon, the rain let up: a quick walk in Filandia, a quick lunch, then off to Manizales. We chose to stay at El Otoño hot springs. Great choice: as soon as we arrived, we plunged into the hot pools, perfect after hours on the road.
Day 7 – Hiking and hot springs
In the morning, we hiked the Camino de Super Coco (found somewhat randomly on Google). A pleasant trail with mountain views and a peaceful atmosphere. The afternoon was spent in the hotel’s thermal pools, with a short marked hike down to the river. Dinner on-site at the hot springs’ restaurant. A simple but very relaxing day.
Day 8 – Rain, jacuzzi, and games
We continued to Finca Los Alpes. The rain greeted us again, but this time it turned into an asset: nothing like a steaming jacuzzi with a view of the misty mountains. The kids enjoyed the facilities too: mini-golf, ping-pong, billiards. Dinner and night at the hotel, cozy vibes.
Day 9 – Off to the Caribbean coast
Back to the airport to return the car (still a bit long). Flight to Cartagena with Avianca: punctual and comfortable. Upon arrival, we picked up another car and headed straight to the Hyatt Regency, a modern hotel with a pool. That evening, we dined at the hotel—practical after a travel day.
Day 10 – Colonial Cartagena
We set off to explore Cartagena’s old town. It was enchanting: colorful facades, flowered balconies, colonial charm—just magical. However, the heat was stifling and very humid. Afternoon relaxation by the pool. Dinner at Gestlani, a good restaurant in town.
Day 11 – Road to Barú
A hearty breakfast, then one last swim in the pool before heading to Barú. We checked into Las Islas Hotel. The setting was enchanting: wooden cabins nestled in the vegetation, a private beach, turquoise sea, impeccable service. Dinner at the hotel’s restaurant.
Day 12 – Beach and relaxation
A full beach day in Barú. Warm water, white sand, coconut trees, peace and quiet. A real postcard scene with iguanas and birds.
Day 13 – On to Santa Marta
Another morning at the beach before hitting the road to Santa Marta. The drive was a bit long (6 hours), especially with traffic jams in Barranquilla. It was the longest car ride of the trip. We spent the night at Villa María Tayrona, a beautiful place near the park.
Day 14 – Tayrona Park
We left early for Tayrona Park. We entered through **El Zaino**, parked the car, and set off on a hike to La Piscina (about 2 hours). We stopped along the way at Playa Arenilla, a stunning little beach, to rest. Lunch on-site, a swim, then back by 4 PM. The hike was a bit tiring, but the nature was spectacular: dense jungle, the sound of waves, and even a monkey encounter along the way. Evening and dinner at the hotel.
Day 15 – Last swim and return flight to Bogotá
Our last morning was split between the pool and the beach (the hotel has direct access via a 7-minute trail through vegetation and flowers)—hard to leave this paradise. We drove to Santa Marta’s airport to return the car, then flew back to Bogotá. We spent the night at Casa Dann Carlton, a comfortable hotel. We simply ordered room service, arriving too late to go out.
Day 16 – Bogotá and the end of the trip
Our last day in Colombia. After a good breakfast, we explored La Candelaria. Its cobbled streets and colorful houses were worth the visit. We visited the Botero Museum (free) and the Gold Museum, both fascinating. Back to the airport for our 11:55 PM Air France flight.
That’s a wrap on a varied trip—lush mountains, colorful villages, dream beaches, and tropical jungle. The pace was pretty relaxed, well-suited for our kids. They absolutely loved the trip to Colombia. Driving in Colombia was very easy, and we didn’t regret renting a car at all—it gave us more freedom to get around.
If I were to do it again, here’s what I’d change: - I’d spend less time in the Coffee Zone to stay a bit longer on the Caribbean coast, which was more relaxing for the kids. Or I’d head to Medellín, but I didn’t think the city was very kid-friendly. - Bogotá is a city that deserves a day’s visit, but it’s not a must-see. Maybe I’d have taken the KLM flight from Cartagena to Amsterdam instead.
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate!
Antoine
I’d like to share my family trip to Colombia with kids aged 8. After spending hours browsing the forum and only having two weeks there, we decided to focus on two regions: the Coffee Zone for one week and the Caribbean coast for another. We traveled from August 8 to 23.
Day 1 – First stop: Bogotá
We arrived in Bogotá in the evening on an Air France flight—nothing to complain about, decent service, comfortable, and on time. However, the first night was a miss. We’d booked a hotel near the airport (Abitel Prime) for convenience, but the soundproofing was almost nonexistent; we heard planes as if we were on the runway. Luckily, exhaustion helped us sleep well anyway.
Day 2 – Off to the Coffee Zone and Salento
The next morning, we headed to the airport for a domestic flight to Pereira with LATAM. No issues: punctual and efficient, and in 30 minutes, we landed in Pereira. The landing already set a different mood: lush valleys, endless plantations, and humid air. We picked up our rental car from Localiza. Unfortunately, the experience wasn’t smooth—the paperwork took forever, and the wait tested our patience. Finally free, we hit the road to Salento, one of Quindío’s gems. We arrived in the late afternoon and discovered a colorful village bustling with artisan shops and cafés. Our first stroll helped us soak in the atmosphere before dinner at Bambú restaurant—a great surprise with careful cooking and local flavors. We spent the night at Casa Serafín, a charming little hotel, nicely decorated and well-located… but unfortunately very noisy.
Day 3 – The magic of Cocora Valley
This was one of the trip’s highlights. We set off early for Cocora Valley, famous for its giant wax palms, Colombia’s emblem. We chose the 12 km loop recommended by the *Routard*. The landscapes were spectacular: towering palms, rivers, suspension bridges. It felt like walking through a postcard. The weather was perfect. That evening, we dined at Barnabé restaurant—pleasant setting, decent food, but the bill was a bit steep for what it was. Back to Casa Serafín.
Day 4 – Coffee and panoramic views
The plan was a visit to Finca El Ocaso. For 1.5 hours, we followed a passionate guide who explained the entire coffee process, from harvest to cup. Very educational, accessible for both kids and adults, all in a stunning setting. The tour was in English for us, and we translated for our kids, who aren’t bilingual yet. In the afternoon, we climbed to Salento’s viewpoint. The valley view was superb. That evening, we ate at Veggie Garden, a simple and pleasant spot that was a nice change from the heavier meals of previous days.
Day 5 – Horseback ride to Santa Rita Waterfall
We booked a horseback ride with Cocora Magic. It was a real success: calm horses, a beautiful trail, mountain and meadow landscapes, and finally the refreshing and wild Santa Rita Waterfall. Without a doubt, one of the best moments of our time in the region. We even got a bonus ride up a 300-meter hill. We then headed to Filandia, less known than Salento but just as charming. We spent the late afternoon enjoying the pool at MuchoSur Filandia. The hotel is beautiful, in an idyllic setting. However, we also had soundproofing issues and could hear our neighbors.
Day 6 – Rainy detour through Filandia and Manizales
Rain caught up with us in the early morning: torrents of water made it impossible to go out. We stayed at the hotel, reading quietly. By noon, the rain let up: a quick walk in Filandia, a quick lunch, then off to Manizales. We chose to stay at El Otoño hot springs. Great choice: as soon as we arrived, we plunged into the hot pools, perfect after hours on the road.
Day 7 – Hiking and hot springs
In the morning, we hiked the Camino de Super Coco (found somewhat randomly on Google). A pleasant trail with mountain views and a peaceful atmosphere. The afternoon was spent in the hotel’s thermal pools, with a short marked hike down to the river. Dinner on-site at the hot springs’ restaurant. A simple but very relaxing day.
Day 8 – Rain, jacuzzi, and games
We continued to Finca Los Alpes. The rain greeted us again, but this time it turned into an asset: nothing like a steaming jacuzzi with a view of the misty mountains. The kids enjoyed the facilities too: mini-golf, ping-pong, billiards. Dinner and night at the hotel, cozy vibes.
Day 9 – Off to the Caribbean coast
Back to the airport to return the car (still a bit long). Flight to Cartagena with Avianca: punctual and comfortable. Upon arrival, we picked up another car and headed straight to the Hyatt Regency, a modern hotel with a pool. That evening, we dined at the hotel—practical after a travel day.
Day 10 – Colonial Cartagena
We set off to explore Cartagena’s old town. It was enchanting: colorful facades, flowered balconies, colonial charm—just magical. However, the heat was stifling and very humid. Afternoon relaxation by the pool. Dinner at Gestlani, a good restaurant in town.
Day 11 – Road to Barú
A hearty breakfast, then one last swim in the pool before heading to Barú. We checked into Las Islas Hotel. The setting was enchanting: wooden cabins nestled in the vegetation, a private beach, turquoise sea, impeccable service. Dinner at the hotel’s restaurant.
Day 12 – Beach and relaxation
A full beach day in Barú. Warm water, white sand, coconut trees, peace and quiet. A real postcard scene with iguanas and birds.
Day 13 – On to Santa Marta
Another morning at the beach before hitting the road to Santa Marta. The drive was a bit long (6 hours), especially with traffic jams in Barranquilla. It was the longest car ride of the trip. We spent the night at Villa María Tayrona, a beautiful place near the park.
Day 14 – Tayrona Park
We left early for Tayrona Park. We entered through **El Zaino**, parked the car, and set off on a hike to La Piscina (about 2 hours). We stopped along the way at Playa Arenilla, a stunning little beach, to rest. Lunch on-site, a swim, then back by 4 PM. The hike was a bit tiring, but the nature was spectacular: dense jungle, the sound of waves, and even a monkey encounter along the way. Evening and dinner at the hotel.
Day 15 – Last swim and return flight to Bogotá
Our last morning was split between the pool and the beach (the hotel has direct access via a 7-minute trail through vegetation and flowers)—hard to leave this paradise. We drove to Santa Marta’s airport to return the car, then flew back to Bogotá. We spent the night at Casa Dann Carlton, a comfortable hotel. We simply ordered room service, arriving too late to go out.
Day 16 – Bogotá and the end of the trip
Our last day in Colombia. After a good breakfast, we explored La Candelaria. Its cobbled streets and colorful houses were worth the visit. We visited the Botero Museum (free) and the Gold Museum, both fascinating. Back to the airport for our 11:55 PM Air France flight.
That’s a wrap on a varied trip—lush mountains, colorful villages, dream beaches, and tropical jungle. The pace was pretty relaxed, well-suited for our kids. They absolutely loved the trip to Colombia. Driving in Colombia was very easy, and we didn’t regret renting a car at all—it gave us more freedom to get around.
If I were to do it again, here’s what I’d change: - I’d spend less time in the Coffee Zone to stay a bit longer on the Caribbean coast, which was more relaxing for the kids. Or I’d head to Medellín, but I didn’t think the city was very kid-friendly. - Bogotá is a city that deserves a day’s visit, but it’s not a must-see. Maybe I’d have taken the KLM flight from Cartagena to Amsterdam instead.
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate!
Antoine
Since I didn’t have time to write a proper travel journal, I thought I’d share a few photos of Bologna—a really lovely city I discovered in 2017 while stopping on my way to Tuscany.
Around Piazza Maggiore, which was packed with a stage and chairs for a show, stands the Basilica of San Petronio, massive and Gothic in style, with an unfinished façade (a common sight in Italy).



Another building near the square:
But Bologna’s real charm lies in its porticoes, which were added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2021: 62 km of arcades running along buildings, letting you walk sheltered from the sun or rain. Back in 1288, the city required houses to include private arcades for public use. In the city center, you can stroll under 32 km of porticoes in all sorts of styles—some plain, some ornate—with a strong presence of red tones.



Another building near the square:
But Bologna’s real charm lies in its porticoes, which were added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2021: 62 km of arcades running along buildings, letting you walk sheltered from the sun or rain. Back in 1288, the city required houses to include private arcades for public use. In the city center, you can stroll under 32 km of porticoes in all sorts of styles—some plain, some ornate—with a strong presence of red tones.Okay, it wasn’t a total disaster either. Actually, I hesitated before starting this travel journal: is it even worth writing about a holiday that won’t leave an unforgettable memory?
In the end, I went for it (there aren’t many recent travel journals about this destination).
So, read on... or don’t .
Every time we’ve been to the Canary Islands, it’s been by default (basically: where can we go in winter or early spring when we only have a week—so not too far, not too much jet lag, but with decent weather?).
This time, we had two weeks, but the winter plan kept changing: first Thailand (dropped for personal reasons), then Martinique (dropped because of work leave dates that weren’t up to me), and finally, the Canary Islands.
We’ve already been to Tenerife (which we really liked) and Lanzarote (which we liked a little less). This year, two options: Gran Canaria or one of the smaller islands west of Tenerife (La Palma, or even La Gomera or El Hierro). We chose Gran Canaria... not sure it was the right call! Whose fault is it? Storm Thérèse’s! Yes, Storm Thérèse followed us on arrival, and its effects lasted quite a while. We had to adapt, cancel visits, change activities...
But even without Thérèse...
Saturday 21/03 Departure from Orly at 6:10 AM with Transavia. The plane took off on time and landed a little early, tossed around by strong winds before touching down. It had just rained, but it was (almost) no longer raining.

We quickly picked up our luggage and then the car at the Cicar counter. We got a Seat Arona instead of the Corsa we’d booked. Well, while the driving position didn’t feel great at first (I got used to it), the engine’s smoothness and power were much appreciated on the island’s winding and sometimes steep roads.
It was only 10 AM, and we couldn’t theoretically check into our accommodation until 3 PM (the owner promised to message me if it was ready earlier). So, we headed to the (big) *Jardín Botánico Viera y Clavijo*, where we planned to spend a few hours. We found a huge parking lot... empty. The passenger in the car in front of us (yes, we weren’t the only ones at the closed gate—there was a car in front and one behind) went to ask for info: it was closed due to the storm 😕. So, we calmly headed toward Puerto de las Nieves, on the northwest coast of the island.
The plan: go to a restaurant, visit the village, and do some shopping while waiting for early afternoon. As soon as we got out of the car, it started raining... we took shelter under the awning of a shop, waiting for it to pass. But the rain turned into a downpour, and within minutes, awning or not, Gore-Tex or not, we were soaked!
Since we were already wet, we might as well go to the restaurant—they weren’t far! But here’s the thing: contrary to what Google Maps said, they all opened at 1 PM, not noon! Back to the car, wading through 5 cm of water because all the village streets were flooded . The rain let up, we did some shopping, went to eat, and I got a message from the owner saying the accommodation was ready 🙂.
So, off we went to La Suerte, a few kilometers north of Agaete. The downside of the place, especially with luggage, is that you have to climb several flights of stairs via an outdoor staircase (after parking more or less far away on a steep street) to get there 😛). Of course, on the way from the car to the apartment, it started pouring again—the bags got soaked! Enough rain for today! We settled in quietly, and by late afternoon, we could (finally!) go admire the view from the terrace.

Every time we’ve been to the Canary Islands, it’s been by default (basically: where can we go in winter or early spring when we only have a week—so not too far, not too much jet lag, but with decent weather?).
This time, we had two weeks, but the winter plan kept changing: first Thailand (dropped for personal reasons), then Martinique (dropped because of work leave dates that weren’t up to me), and finally, the Canary Islands.
We’ve already been to Tenerife (which we really liked) and Lanzarote (which we liked a little less). This year, two options: Gran Canaria or one of the smaller islands west of Tenerife (La Palma, or even La Gomera or El Hierro). We chose Gran Canaria... not sure it was the right call! Whose fault is it? Storm Thérèse’s! Yes, Storm Thérèse followed us on arrival, and its effects lasted quite a while. We had to adapt, cancel visits, change activities...
But even without Thérèse...
Saturday 21/03 Departure from Orly at 6:10 AM with Transavia. The plane took off on time and landed a little early, tossed around by strong winds before touching down. It had just rained, but it was (almost) no longer raining.

We quickly picked up our luggage and then the car at the Cicar counter. We got a Seat Arona instead of the Corsa we’d booked. Well, while the driving position didn’t feel great at first (I got used to it), the engine’s smoothness and power were much appreciated on the island’s winding and sometimes steep roads.
It was only 10 AM, and we couldn’t theoretically check into our accommodation until 3 PM (the owner promised to message me if it was ready earlier). So, we headed to the (big) *Jardín Botánico Viera y Clavijo*, where we planned to spend a few hours. We found a huge parking lot... empty. The passenger in the car in front of us (yes, we weren’t the only ones at the closed gate—there was a car in front and one behind) went to ask for info: it was closed due to the storm 😕. So, we calmly headed toward Puerto de las Nieves, on the northwest coast of the island.
The plan: go to a restaurant, visit the village, and do some shopping while waiting for early afternoon. As soon as we got out of the car, it started raining... we took shelter under the awning of a shop, waiting for it to pass. But the rain turned into a downpour, and within minutes, awning or not, Gore-Tex or not, we were soaked!
Since we were already wet, we might as well go to the restaurant—they weren’t far! But here’s the thing: contrary to what Google Maps said, they all opened at 1 PM, not noon! Back to the car, wading through 5 cm of water because all the village streets were flooded . The rain let up, we did some shopping, went to eat, and I got a message from the owner saying the accommodation was ready 🙂.
So, off we went to La Suerte, a few kilometers north of Agaete. The downside of the place, especially with luggage, is that you have to climb several flights of stairs via an outdoor staircase (after parking more or less far away on a steep street) to get there 😛). Of course, on the way from the car to the apartment, it started pouring again—the bags got soaked! Enough rain for today! We settled in quietly, and by late afternoon, we could (finally!) go admire the view from the terrace.

Lanzarote Travel Journal
Trip Planning My partner and I are heading to the Canary Islands for a week at the end of September, specifically to Lanzarote. We chose this island over the more crowded ones for its volcanic landscape and the variety of hikes it offers. I booked everything through Expedia: our hotel stay, car rental, and Ryanair flight tickets departing from Marseille. It was the only way to get a direct flight. To make getting around easier during our stay, I picked a hotel located in the center of the island from the wide selection available. It’s part of the Barceló chain, specifically the "Barceló Teguise Beach Adults Only" in Teguise Beach, which turned out to be an excellent choice.
The Trip
Sunday, September 21 - Monday, September 22 Departure It’s 2:15 PM, and we’re at the Avignon TGV station. Danielle picked us up earlier due to the weather—thunderstorms and heavy rain all the way to the station. The TGV was on time, and it only took 30 minutes to reach Marseille Saint-Charles. The shuttle to the airport is quick and convenient, right behind the station. The bus leaves for the airport in the middle of the storm, with flooded roads and cars stuck in some spots. We get soaked making our way to the terminal. Two hours to wait before the flight. The plane finally takes off at midnight, but just before landing, the pilot announces that the destination airport is closed, and we’re being diverted to Tenerife. Ryanair will re-route us as soon as possible. We end up waiting 2 hours, and Ryanair kindly gives us a 4 € voucher. We re-board around 5:15 AM and take off at 6:00 AM. About 45 minutes to reach Lanzarote. After collecting our luggage, we head to the car rental desk. The counter in the terminal is closed, and we’re directed to parking lot P4—it takes us a while to find it. I’m a bit worried about the rental company’s reaction since the car was supposed to be picked up 7 hours earlier, but it’s not a problem. A woman next to us is furious because she’s in the same situation, and her rental was canceled. Anne-Marie translates for her, but nothing changes. We pick up a brand-new Toyota Aigo and head to the hotel. After checking in, we cross the garden, walking alongside the large pool to reach our room. A lovely first-floor room with a jacuzzi and a sea view. It’s early, so we head to breakfast—a generously stocked and varied buffet with everything you could want. Afterward, we drive to Cueva de los Verdes, but it’s packed with people and a long wait. We decide to come back another day. Next, we visit Mirador Del Rio. This rocky viewpoint at the edge of the island has breathtaking cliffs plunging 500 meters into the ocean. The view is stunning and impressive. A panoramic bar lets you cool off while enjoying the scenery. We return to the hotel for a short walk around the neighborhood and enjoy the beautiful pool with its pleasant water temperature. Relaxing by the pool, sun loungers, and all. In the evening, a very varied buffet at the restaurant. Then early to bed to recover from the sleepless night before.
Tuesday, September 23 After a restful night, we enjoy another varied and hearty breakfast. The terrace seating is very pleasant. We take an inland road leading to Timanfaya National Park. The road near the park runs alongside vineyards where the vines are surrounded by lava stone walls to protect them from the prevailing winds. Our first stop is at the visitor center, where the island’s volcanic activity is well-documented. Next, we stop at an area where you can take a short camel ride—two seats are installed on either side of the camel’s hump. This little ride offers a great view of the volcanic landscape from a higher vantage point. A fair price of 11 € per seat for a 20-minute ride. We then head to the park entrance via the road leading to the parking lot, where only authorized buses can take the winding route inside the park. It’s crowded, and we wait about 45 minutes with several stops before reaching the parking lot. We board the bus, and the route offers beautiful views of this volcanic area and its many craters. The journey is very interesting, with several stops for photos. At the parking lot, a guide shows us how the heat from the rocks beneath the surface can ignite dry vegetation. Water poured into holes in the ground immediately creates geysers and jets of steam. The building next to the parking lot has a restaurant where meat is cooked using the heat from a well dug into the volcanic rock. On our way back, we drive to Playa Blanca, a seaside town with a small sandy beach.
Back at the hotel in the late afternoon for dinner.
Wednesday, September 24 We wake up early and have a quick breakfast—few people are around at this hour. Two days ago, we booked a 10:00 AM visit to Los Verdes, lava tunnels created by eruptions and lava flows from the La Corona volcano, which extended all the way to the coast. When the lava came into contact with the air, it solidified on the surface while continuing to flow underneath. The lava tunnels stretch for 8 kilometers to the volcano, but we only walk one kilometer. The inside of the tunnel is impressive, with narrow passages and larger chambers. You can see traces left by the flowing liquid lava—varied colors and twisted shapes. At the end of the path, a large chamber has been turned into a concert hall with perfect acoustics. Next, we visit Jameo Del Agua. This is a continuation of the lava tunnel, developed by Manrique. There are beautifully designed bar and restaurant areas, as well as an underground lake where you can see small blind white crabs—a protected species in this very pure water. Higher up, there’s a lovely space with a central pool that could double as a swimming area, surrounded by beautifully designed white pathways that contrast with the blue water. Further on, you reach a large space inside the lava tunnel, set up as a performance hall with perfect acoustics. Stairs let you view this beautiful space from above. A gap in the lava landscape reveals the ocean on the horizon. We head back toward the village of Yé, at the foot of the La Corona volcano. A 160-meter walk from the church, a path crosses vineyard plots and then climbs to the top of the volcano’s crater in about 30 minutes. It’s the island’s highest volcano. When you reach the edge of the crater, you see how deep it is, with steep slopes inside forming a large circular opening. The place is breathtaking and awe-inspiring. We drive back to the hotel via a road that climbs quickly, offering a beautiful view of the island’s northern part.
Thursday, September 25 After another enjoyable and varied breakfast, we head to the center of the island toward the volcano park and stop at a roadside parking lot where a path leads to the Montana Cuervo volcano. This is a crater that opened on one side. During an eruption, an explosion created a breach in the crater. Huge blocks of rock were thrown dozens of meters away. The path goes through the breach and descends into the crater, allowing you to walk around it. It’s impressive, and you really feel small and fragile in this environment. The crater walls, with their different colors, highlight the rock formations. The crater is surrounded by a sea of lava with sharp, jagged rocks. You can walk around the outside of the crater, but it’s not very interesting. We then head to the west coast, stopping at a spot with a small green lake next to a beautiful black sand beach. Next, we stop at Salinas de Janubio, a lovely viewpoint overlooking the salt marshes with different water colors. A small shop sells various local products. We then head to the famous Papagayo beach. The road ends at a booth where they charge 3 € to continue. From here, the land is private, and you have to pay to drive down a 3-kilometer rocky dirt road. Quite a few cars are driving along it, kicking up clouds of dust. The car gets a dusty makeover. We arrive at a large parking area, with several paths leading to different small beaches. We go to Papagayo, a small blonde sand beach surrounded by red rocks. The beach slopes gently into the water, which is a pleasant temperature. The setting is charming and peaceful. We stay for a while before heading back to the hotel.
Friday, September 26 We start with a visit to the César Manrique Foundation in Tahiche. This was originally one of his homes. The modern construction spans several levels and is integrated into the lava flow, using the gaps to create living spaces. Large windows make the rooms bright and open to the scenery. The place is pleasant, with flower-filled gardens outside. It’s well worth a visit. Next, we drive to Las Grietas, where a path leads to a narrow crack in the volcanic rock, forming a tight passage where only one person can walk at a time. The passage isn’t very long, but progress is slow due to the endless selfies being taken here. We then stop at Casa Del Camposino, a renovated farm that houses several artisan shops. We taste a local wine recommended by a charming woman and buy two bottles of Lanzarote red wine on her advice. Now, we head to Tamara beach, a beautiful and wide beach at the foot of high cliffs. There are always great waves here, making it a surfer’s paradise. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at the cactus garden, César Manrique’s final creation. Designed with a great sense of aesthetics around an old windmill, it features 4,500 varieties of cacti in various shapes, all in a beautiful setting. We return to the hotel in the late afternoon for the evening.
Saturday, September 27 After another hearty breakfast, we head north to Haria. We stumble upon another of César Manrique’s homes, where he lived for a long time. This house is more traditional than the previous one but still has large, modern, and very pleasant rooms. At the back of the garden is his large studio, where he created his works. Next, we visit the craft market—this was our original plan. Various stalls offer local items, and it’s very crowded. No room at the café terraces to sit down. We then return to Famara beach for a long stay. There are always great waves here, much to the surfers’ delight. The water temperature is pleasant, and we enjoy it. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at a gas station to refill the car, which has been very fuel-efficient. Gas is also much cheaper here than in France—1.16 € per liter of SP95. We also wash the car, which was very dusty after the long dirt road to Papagayo beach. At the hotel, we enjoy a farewell cocktail before dinner.
Sunday, September 28 We spend the morning by the hotel pool before checking out at noon. For lunch, we go to a restaurant called "Dona Lola," near the hotel, with a terrace offering a view of the coast. We order tuna carpaccio, which is delicious. We then head to the airport, just 15 minutes away. We return the rental car and go to the airport. A long line to check in our luggage. The return flight is on time. A shuttle bus takes us to Saint-Charles station. We then head to our overnight rental. The boulevard slopes down, making it easier with the suitcases. The rental is between the old port and the train station. Once there, we pick up the keys and make one last effort to carry the luggage up to the third floor. The studio is nice, clean, and simply equipped—perfect for one night.
Trip Planning My partner and I are heading to the Canary Islands for a week at the end of September, specifically to Lanzarote. We chose this island over the more crowded ones for its volcanic landscape and the variety of hikes it offers. I booked everything through Expedia: our hotel stay, car rental, and Ryanair flight tickets departing from Marseille. It was the only way to get a direct flight. To make getting around easier during our stay, I picked a hotel located in the center of the island from the wide selection available. It’s part of the Barceló chain, specifically the "Barceló Teguise Beach Adults Only" in Teguise Beach, which turned out to be an excellent choice.
The Trip
Sunday, September 21 - Monday, September 22 Departure It’s 2:15 PM, and we’re at the Avignon TGV station. Danielle picked us up earlier due to the weather—thunderstorms and heavy rain all the way to the station. The TGV was on time, and it only took 30 minutes to reach Marseille Saint-Charles. The shuttle to the airport is quick and convenient, right behind the station. The bus leaves for the airport in the middle of the storm, with flooded roads and cars stuck in some spots. We get soaked making our way to the terminal. Two hours to wait before the flight. The plane finally takes off at midnight, but just before landing, the pilot announces that the destination airport is closed, and we’re being diverted to Tenerife. Ryanair will re-route us as soon as possible. We end up waiting 2 hours, and Ryanair kindly gives us a 4 € voucher. We re-board around 5:15 AM and take off at 6:00 AM. About 45 minutes to reach Lanzarote. After collecting our luggage, we head to the car rental desk. The counter in the terminal is closed, and we’re directed to parking lot P4—it takes us a while to find it. I’m a bit worried about the rental company’s reaction since the car was supposed to be picked up 7 hours earlier, but it’s not a problem. A woman next to us is furious because she’s in the same situation, and her rental was canceled. Anne-Marie translates for her, but nothing changes. We pick up a brand-new Toyota Aigo and head to the hotel. After checking in, we cross the garden, walking alongside the large pool to reach our room. A lovely first-floor room with a jacuzzi and a sea view. It’s early, so we head to breakfast—a generously stocked and varied buffet with everything you could want. Afterward, we drive to Cueva de los Verdes, but it’s packed with people and a long wait. We decide to come back another day. Next, we visit Mirador Del Rio. This rocky viewpoint at the edge of the island has breathtaking cliffs plunging 500 meters into the ocean. The view is stunning and impressive. A panoramic bar lets you cool off while enjoying the scenery. We return to the hotel for a short walk around the neighborhood and enjoy the beautiful pool with its pleasant water temperature. Relaxing by the pool, sun loungers, and all. In the evening, a very varied buffet at the restaurant. Then early to bed to recover from the sleepless night before.
Tuesday, September 23 After a restful night, we enjoy another varied and hearty breakfast. The terrace seating is very pleasant. We take an inland road leading to Timanfaya National Park. The road near the park runs alongside vineyards where the vines are surrounded by lava stone walls to protect them from the prevailing winds. Our first stop is at the visitor center, where the island’s volcanic activity is well-documented. Next, we stop at an area where you can take a short camel ride—two seats are installed on either side of the camel’s hump. This little ride offers a great view of the volcanic landscape from a higher vantage point. A fair price of 11 € per seat for a 20-minute ride. We then head to the park entrance via the road leading to the parking lot, where only authorized buses can take the winding route inside the park. It’s crowded, and we wait about 45 minutes with several stops before reaching the parking lot. We board the bus, and the route offers beautiful views of this volcanic area and its many craters. The journey is very interesting, with several stops for photos. At the parking lot, a guide shows us how the heat from the rocks beneath the surface can ignite dry vegetation. Water poured into holes in the ground immediately creates geysers and jets of steam. The building next to the parking lot has a restaurant where meat is cooked using the heat from a well dug into the volcanic rock. On our way back, we drive to Playa Blanca, a seaside town with a small sandy beach.
Back at the hotel in the late afternoon for dinner.
Wednesday, September 24 We wake up early and have a quick breakfast—few people are around at this hour. Two days ago, we booked a 10:00 AM visit to Los Verdes, lava tunnels created by eruptions and lava flows from the La Corona volcano, which extended all the way to the coast. When the lava came into contact with the air, it solidified on the surface while continuing to flow underneath. The lava tunnels stretch for 8 kilometers to the volcano, but we only walk one kilometer. The inside of the tunnel is impressive, with narrow passages and larger chambers. You can see traces left by the flowing liquid lava—varied colors and twisted shapes. At the end of the path, a large chamber has been turned into a concert hall with perfect acoustics. Next, we visit Jameo Del Agua. This is a continuation of the lava tunnel, developed by Manrique. There are beautifully designed bar and restaurant areas, as well as an underground lake where you can see small blind white crabs—a protected species in this very pure water. Higher up, there’s a lovely space with a central pool that could double as a swimming area, surrounded by beautifully designed white pathways that contrast with the blue water. Further on, you reach a large space inside the lava tunnel, set up as a performance hall with perfect acoustics. Stairs let you view this beautiful space from above. A gap in the lava landscape reveals the ocean on the horizon. We head back toward the village of Yé, at the foot of the La Corona volcano. A 160-meter walk from the church, a path crosses vineyard plots and then climbs to the top of the volcano’s crater in about 30 minutes. It’s the island’s highest volcano. When you reach the edge of the crater, you see how deep it is, with steep slopes inside forming a large circular opening. The place is breathtaking and awe-inspiring. We drive back to the hotel via a road that climbs quickly, offering a beautiful view of the island’s northern part.
Thursday, September 25 After another enjoyable and varied breakfast, we head to the center of the island toward the volcano park and stop at a roadside parking lot where a path leads to the Montana Cuervo volcano. This is a crater that opened on one side. During an eruption, an explosion created a breach in the crater. Huge blocks of rock were thrown dozens of meters away. The path goes through the breach and descends into the crater, allowing you to walk around it. It’s impressive, and you really feel small and fragile in this environment. The crater walls, with their different colors, highlight the rock formations. The crater is surrounded by a sea of lava with sharp, jagged rocks. You can walk around the outside of the crater, but it’s not very interesting. We then head to the west coast, stopping at a spot with a small green lake next to a beautiful black sand beach. Next, we stop at Salinas de Janubio, a lovely viewpoint overlooking the salt marshes with different water colors. A small shop sells various local products. We then head to the famous Papagayo beach. The road ends at a booth where they charge 3 € to continue. From here, the land is private, and you have to pay to drive down a 3-kilometer rocky dirt road. Quite a few cars are driving along it, kicking up clouds of dust. The car gets a dusty makeover. We arrive at a large parking area, with several paths leading to different small beaches. We go to Papagayo, a small blonde sand beach surrounded by red rocks. The beach slopes gently into the water, which is a pleasant temperature. The setting is charming and peaceful. We stay for a while before heading back to the hotel.
Friday, September 26 We start with a visit to the César Manrique Foundation in Tahiche. This was originally one of his homes. The modern construction spans several levels and is integrated into the lava flow, using the gaps to create living spaces. Large windows make the rooms bright and open to the scenery. The place is pleasant, with flower-filled gardens outside. It’s well worth a visit. Next, we drive to Las Grietas, where a path leads to a narrow crack in the volcanic rock, forming a tight passage where only one person can walk at a time. The passage isn’t very long, but progress is slow due to the endless selfies being taken here. We then stop at Casa Del Camposino, a renovated farm that houses several artisan shops. We taste a local wine recommended by a charming woman and buy two bottles of Lanzarote red wine on her advice. Now, we head to Tamara beach, a beautiful and wide beach at the foot of high cliffs. There are always great waves here, making it a surfer’s paradise. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at the cactus garden, César Manrique’s final creation. Designed with a great sense of aesthetics around an old windmill, it features 4,500 varieties of cacti in various shapes, all in a beautiful setting. We return to the hotel in the late afternoon for the evening.
Saturday, September 27 After another hearty breakfast, we head north to Haria. We stumble upon another of César Manrique’s homes, where he lived for a long time. This house is more traditional than the previous one but still has large, modern, and very pleasant rooms. At the back of the garden is his large studio, where he created his works. Next, we visit the craft market—this was our original plan. Various stalls offer local items, and it’s very crowded. No room at the café terraces to sit down. We then return to Famara beach for a long stay. There are always great waves here, much to the surfers’ delight. The water temperature is pleasant, and we enjoy it. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at a gas station to refill the car, which has been very fuel-efficient. Gas is also much cheaper here than in France—1.16 € per liter of SP95. We also wash the car, which was very dusty after the long dirt road to Papagayo beach. At the hotel, we enjoy a farewell cocktail before dinner.
Sunday, September 28 We spend the morning by the hotel pool before checking out at noon. For lunch, we go to a restaurant called "Dona Lola," near the hotel, with a terrace offering a view of the coast. We order tuna carpaccio, which is delicious. We then head to the airport, just 15 minutes away. We return the rental car and go to the airport. A long line to check in our luggage. The return flight is on time. A shuttle bus takes us to Saint-Charles station. We then head to our overnight rental. The boulevard slopes down, making it easier with the suitcases. The rental is between the old port and the train station. Once there, we pick up the keys and make one last effort to carry the luggage up to the third floor. The studio is nice, clean, and simply equipped—perfect for one night.
Hi everyone,
I’m a newbie to this forum, passionate about wildlife, the landscapes of East Africa, and Tanzania in particular. This June 2024 trip/safari is our 7th visit to Tanzania and our 5th in the south, which has drawn us more than the north ever since we discovered it in 2015.
In 2024, the entrance fees for the reserves and services have gone up again since our last visit. I chose to return first to Mikumi Reserve, which was the very first one we visited in the south. Then, we’ll head to Selous (J. Nyerere N. P.) as usual. Initially, we wanted to spend 2/3 days on Mafia Island at the end of the trip, but it made the total cost too high, so we gave up... We usually go to Ruaha and Selous, but I wanted to mix it up a bit—also to save some money...
As for the timing, June is a new experience for us. I thought it might be interesting to come just after the lodges reopen... hoping for some great wildlife encounters??
The trip starts in Marseille with our first flight on Ethiopian Airlines to Addis Ababa, then continues to Dar es Salaam, where we’ll finally set foot on Tanzanian soil again.
In Addis... "our" A-350.

.....
After arriving in Dar, we spent one night at a hotel near the airport. The next morning, we headed to the domestic flights terminal, which hasn’t changed in years.
By mid-morning, we boarded a Cessna 208B Caravan with Safari Air Link, heading to the Kikoboga bush airstrip in Mikumi, which we reached 45 minutes later. Fun fact: the pilot was the same one as on our return flight two years ago.
Welcome on board:

Of course, a driver/guide team from our chosen lodge was waiting for us upon arrival:

I was surprised to see so many aircraft parked there... even twin-engine Embraer Brasilias?? As a fan of vintage planes, I loved it...

On the other hand, the light was incredibly harsh.....!! Our guides only speak English. We knew that in advance. In the south, it’s very rare to find someone who speaks French. This’ll force us to dig into our high school English memories... from 60 years ago... at least.
It’s noon, and we head toward the lodge. Near the airstrip, next to the Mikumi rangers’ base, there are quite a few herbivores. They find a bit more peace here—the big cats don’t venture this way...
Our first encounter was a group of Masai giraffes.


Rarer (for us), a savanna monitor lizard basking in the sun right in the middle of the track...??

A large gathering of impalas (mostly males) along with a few blue wildebeest:


Also unusual: a African crowned hornbill taking a dust bath in the middle of the track...!!

When it comes to identifying mammals or birds, I don’t know everything... so I might make mistakes. Please forgive me. I’m counting on my friend Blesl’s active participation... 😉
...
I’m a newbie to this forum, passionate about wildlife, the landscapes of East Africa, and Tanzania in particular. This June 2024 trip/safari is our 7th visit to Tanzania and our 5th in the south, which has drawn us more than the north ever since we discovered it in 2015.
In 2024, the entrance fees for the reserves and services have gone up again since our last visit. I chose to return first to Mikumi Reserve, which was the very first one we visited in the south. Then, we’ll head to Selous (J. Nyerere N. P.) as usual. Initially, we wanted to spend 2/3 days on Mafia Island at the end of the trip, but it made the total cost too high, so we gave up... We usually go to Ruaha and Selous, but I wanted to mix it up a bit—also to save some money...
As for the timing, June is a new experience for us. I thought it might be interesting to come just after the lodges reopen... hoping for some great wildlife encounters??
The trip starts in Marseille with our first flight on Ethiopian Airlines to Addis Ababa, then continues to Dar es Salaam, where we’ll finally set foot on Tanzanian soil again.
In Addis... "our" A-350.

.....
After arriving in Dar, we spent one night at a hotel near the airport. The next morning, we headed to the domestic flights terminal, which hasn’t changed in years.
By mid-morning, we boarded a Cessna 208B Caravan with Safari Air Link, heading to the Kikoboga bush airstrip in Mikumi, which we reached 45 minutes later. Fun fact: the pilot was the same one as on our return flight two years ago.
Welcome on board:

Of course, a driver/guide team from our chosen lodge was waiting for us upon arrival:

I was surprised to see so many aircraft parked there... even twin-engine Embraer Brasilias?? As a fan of vintage planes, I loved it...

On the other hand, the light was incredibly harsh.....!! Our guides only speak English. We knew that in advance. In the south, it’s very rare to find someone who speaks French. This’ll force us to dig into our high school English memories... from 60 years ago... at least.
It’s noon, and we head toward the lodge. Near the airstrip, next to the Mikumi rangers’ base, there are quite a few herbivores. They find a bit more peace here—the big cats don’t venture this way...
Our first encounter was a group of Masai giraffes.


Rarer (for us), a savanna monitor lizard basking in the sun right in the middle of the track...??

A large gathering of impalas (mostly males) along with a few blue wildebeest:


Also unusual: a African crowned hornbill taking a dust bath in the middle of the track...!!

When it comes to identifying mammals or birds, I don’t know everything... so I might make mistakes. Please forgive me. I’m counting on my friend Blesl’s active participation... 😉
...
Hi there,
Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.
It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected. Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel. I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability. So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.
I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:
Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras
Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya
Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat
Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott
Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou
To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog: From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations
Happy reading, and safe travels!
Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.
It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected. Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel. I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability. So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.
I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:
Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras
Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya
Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat
Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott
Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou
To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog: From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations
Happy reading, and safe travels!
Hi there,
On this forum, I shared my first trip to Tunisia from mid-February to early March (https://voyageforum.com/forum/impressions-tunisiennes-en-direct-d11460662/), a stay I enjoyed so much that six weeks later, I’m back in Tunisia for a full 15 days (I return on April 27).
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while. When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing. The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.


TO BE CONTINUED....
On this forum, I shared my first trip to Tunisia from mid-February to early March (https://voyageforum.com/forum/impressions-tunisiennes-en-direct-d11460662/), a stay I enjoyed so much that six weeks later, I’m back in Tunisia for a full 15 days (I return on April 27).
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while. When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing. The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.


TO BE CONTINUED....
Hi everyone,
Just back from two weeks in Andalusia, and I wanted to share this experience with you—maybe it’ll help with planning a trip. I’ll start with a quick recap in this post and try to add photos and day-by-day details later (still sorting through them). Hope I don’t bore you too much! 😎
Trip details:
April 20 to May 4, 2019:
7 days on the Costa de la Luz (El Puerto de Santa María) in an Airbnb,
4 days at the junction of the Costa del Sol and Costa Tropical (Salobreña) in an Airbnb,
3 days at Cabo de Gata for some rest at a campsite in Los Escullos.
Two families of four, each with our own car: three 9-year-old boys and a 6-year-old girl. One family was more into city exploration (not us, but we’re working on it), and the other preferred relaxation and nature (that’s us). We speak a little Spanish.
Over 5,000 km, including 2,500 km for the round trip from Carcassonne.
The weather: Variable, but we expected better for this region in late April. The first week on the Costa de la Luz was sometimes chilly (< 20°C), and the second week was warmer but not excessive (< 25°C). At least we didn’t get much rain!
Our budget: Around 2600 € per family:
700 € for accommodations, about 50 € per night,
1000 € for meals and restaurants. We usually spent around 50 € per family at restaurants—we ate out for lunch (except for 2–3 picnics) and cooked at home in the evenings, trying to be back by 6 PM.
600 € for activities: Río Tinto, a flamenco show, visits to the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar, Oasis Park with meals, and a kayaking trip.
300 € for gas and tolls.
Preparation: A few months ahead with bookings for accommodations and tickets for the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar. We used a few travel guides—I like the *Évasion* guide for initial planning. *Géoguide* was okay, but our friends’ *Routard* was the most useful. We also spent three months brushing up on Spanish with Mosalingua (a great spaced-repetition method, max 10 minutes a day). Downloaded Maps.me and the Andalusia map in advance—essential. And we used Tricount to track shared expenses with friends—super handy.
What we did/saw:
3 city visits (Seville, Granada, and Cádiz) + Málaga for our friends (we vetoed Córdoba—too many cities for us).
4 white villages (Vejer de la Frontera, Arcos de la Frontera, Grazalema, Ronda) + Tarifa for our friends.
Beaches (Tarifa and Bolonia, Matalascañas, Nerja, Cabo de Gata).
Nature and fun moments: Doñana National Park, a kayaking trip along the rocky coast near Nerja, and the Wild West/animal park in the Tabernas Desert.
A little culture: Río Tinto mines, the archaeological site of Itálica, Columbus’s caravels, Nerja Cave for us, and the Picasso Museum in Málaga for our friends. Plus, seeing the ham-drying process in the Alpujarras (for our friends).
Our highlights
Nerja and the surrounding villages: The rocky coast was amazing, and we loved the kayaking trip, even if the water was freezing for snorkeling. The beaches are sheltered from the wind, the town is charming, and the cave is incredible.
El Rocío and Doñana National Park. El Rocío has a timeless, almost Wild West vibe—we could’ve stayed a day or two. The quiet and pine scents reminded us of the Landes region.
What we didn’t love as much:
Río Tinto mines: Not super exciting, and the guides’ nonstop chatter kind of ruined the "nature" experience.
Our little regrets (for next time):
Forgetting our passports and missing a day trip to Tangier from Tarifa.
Not having an extra day around Nerja to go snowboarding in the Sierra Nevada—just 1.5 hours away (the kayak guide suggested it).
Not spending at least one night in El Rocío to explore Doñana National Park at dawn.
Antequera with the Guadalhorce reservoir and the Caminito del Rey (but it would’ve meant 2 more hours of driving, and we didn’t have the energy).
My general impressions of Andalusia and Spain
Landscapes: A feeling of extreme concentration of a single activity in some areas—endless olive groves, wind farms on the Costa de la Luz (which I thought were well-integrated), rows of buildings along the Costa del Sol (yikes, glad we didn’t stop there), greenhouses around Almería (a shame to have frozen the coast for so many kilometers), and the massive industrial port of Huelva.
What surprised us compared to France was the lack of small hamlets—villages are clearly defined, and people cluster there, leaving vast landscapes without human presence. In France, you find houses scattered everywhere.
Roads: Relatively few tolls. Sure, rest areas aren’t as nice as in France, but the roads are in good condition, and our wallet was happy. The roads are pretty straight with countless bridges and tunnels—the upside (besides fast travel) is that there aren’t many secondary roads disrupting the scenery.
Tourism and activities: A huge variety and richness. Feels like everyone can find something they like, and 15 days barely scratched the surface. It’s amazing how quickly you go from the coast to snow-capped peaks (Sierra Nevada) or from farmland to desert (Tabernas). And the mix of European and Arabic architecture in the same city is really special.
One small regret: Not interacting more with locals. We didn’t luck out with our Airbnbs. But shopkeepers were great—very patient with my broken Spanish! :-)
Overall, I think our choice to stay on the Costa de la Luz and then near Nerja worked well. We could explore pretty easily (even if we logged a lot of kilometers), and the settings were fantastic. The 3 days of total relaxation at Cabo de Gata were perfect.
If you prefer shorter stops, you could try staying in El Rocío (easy access to Seville and great for an early visit to Doñana National Park) or maybe Grazalema for a hike in the mountains (weather-dependent). And of course, Tarifa for a day trip to Tangier or Gibraltar.
More details and photos to come soon!
Laurent
Just back from two weeks in Andalusia, and I wanted to share this experience with you—maybe it’ll help with planning a trip. I’ll start with a quick recap in this post and try to add photos and day-by-day details later (still sorting through them). Hope I don’t bore you too much! 😎
Trip details:
April 20 to May 4, 2019:
7 days on the Costa de la Luz (El Puerto de Santa María) in an Airbnb,
4 days at the junction of the Costa del Sol and Costa Tropical (Salobreña) in an Airbnb,
3 days at Cabo de Gata for some rest at a campsite in Los Escullos.
Two families of four, each with our own car: three 9-year-old boys and a 6-year-old girl. One family was more into city exploration (not us, but we’re working on it), and the other preferred relaxation and nature (that’s us). We speak a little Spanish.
Over 5,000 km, including 2,500 km for the round trip from Carcassonne.
The weather: Variable, but we expected better for this region in late April. The first week on the Costa de la Luz was sometimes chilly (< 20°C), and the second week was warmer but not excessive (< 25°C). At least we didn’t get much rain!
Our budget: Around 2600 € per family:
700 € for accommodations, about 50 € per night,
1000 € for meals and restaurants. We usually spent around 50 € per family at restaurants—we ate out for lunch (except for 2–3 picnics) and cooked at home in the evenings, trying to be back by 6 PM.
600 € for activities: Río Tinto, a flamenco show, visits to the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar, Oasis Park with meals, and a kayaking trip.
300 € for gas and tolls.
Preparation: A few months ahead with bookings for accommodations and tickets for the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar. We used a few travel guides—I like the *Évasion* guide for initial planning. *Géoguide* was okay, but our friends’ *Routard* was the most useful. We also spent three months brushing up on Spanish with Mosalingua (a great spaced-repetition method, max 10 minutes a day). Downloaded Maps.me and the Andalusia map in advance—essential. And we used Tricount to track shared expenses with friends—super handy.
What we did/saw:
3 city visits (Seville, Granada, and Cádiz) + Málaga for our friends (we vetoed Córdoba—too many cities for us).
4 white villages (Vejer de la Frontera, Arcos de la Frontera, Grazalema, Ronda) + Tarifa for our friends.
Beaches (Tarifa and Bolonia, Matalascañas, Nerja, Cabo de Gata).
Nature and fun moments: Doñana National Park, a kayaking trip along the rocky coast near Nerja, and the Wild West/animal park in the Tabernas Desert.
A little culture: Río Tinto mines, the archaeological site of Itálica, Columbus’s caravels, Nerja Cave for us, and the Picasso Museum in Málaga for our friends. Plus, seeing the ham-drying process in the Alpujarras (for our friends).
Our highlights
Nerja and the surrounding villages: The rocky coast was amazing, and we loved the kayaking trip, even if the water was freezing for snorkeling. The beaches are sheltered from the wind, the town is charming, and the cave is incredible.
El Rocío and Doñana National Park. El Rocío has a timeless, almost Wild West vibe—we could’ve stayed a day or two. The quiet and pine scents reminded us of the Landes region.
What we didn’t love as much:
Río Tinto mines: Not super exciting, and the guides’ nonstop chatter kind of ruined the "nature" experience.
Our little regrets (for next time):
Forgetting our passports and missing a day trip to Tangier from Tarifa.
Not having an extra day around Nerja to go snowboarding in the Sierra Nevada—just 1.5 hours away (the kayak guide suggested it).
Not spending at least one night in El Rocío to explore Doñana National Park at dawn.
Antequera with the Guadalhorce reservoir and the Caminito del Rey (but it would’ve meant 2 more hours of driving, and we didn’t have the energy).
My general impressions of Andalusia and Spain
Landscapes: A feeling of extreme concentration of a single activity in some areas—endless olive groves, wind farms on the Costa de la Luz (which I thought were well-integrated), rows of buildings along the Costa del Sol (yikes, glad we didn’t stop there), greenhouses around Almería (a shame to have frozen the coast for so many kilometers), and the massive industrial port of Huelva.
What surprised us compared to France was the lack of small hamlets—villages are clearly defined, and people cluster there, leaving vast landscapes without human presence. In France, you find houses scattered everywhere.
Roads: Relatively few tolls. Sure, rest areas aren’t as nice as in France, but the roads are in good condition, and our wallet was happy. The roads are pretty straight with countless bridges and tunnels—the upside (besides fast travel) is that there aren’t many secondary roads disrupting the scenery.
Tourism and activities: A huge variety and richness. Feels like everyone can find something they like, and 15 days barely scratched the surface. It’s amazing how quickly you go from the coast to snow-capped peaks (Sierra Nevada) or from farmland to desert (Tabernas). And the mix of European and Arabic architecture in the same city is really special.
One small regret: Not interacting more with locals. We didn’t luck out with our Airbnbs. But shopkeepers were great—very patient with my broken Spanish! :-)
Overall, I think our choice to stay on the Costa de la Luz and then near Nerja worked well. We could explore pretty easily (even if we logged a lot of kilometers), and the settings were fantastic. The 3 days of total relaxation at Cabo de Gata were perfect.
If you prefer shorter stops, you could try staying in El Rocío (easy access to Seville and great for an early visit to Doñana National Park) or maybe Grazalema for a hike in the mountains (weather-dependent). And of course, Tarifa for a day trip to Tangier or Gibraltar.
More details and photos to come soon!
Laurent















































































































































































































































