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.












Les oiseaux républicains savent distraire le voyageur que ces longs rubans asphaltés ennuient.






























Le galop.
Le galop est une allure merveilleuse, une douce ondulation qu'il faut savoir accompagner pour le rendre agréable. Je suis à la tête d'une groupe de 4 cavaliers, je conduis un magnifique Frison noir jais puissant et altier.
Les fleurs multicolores du Namaqua son hautes comme des blés mûrs, nos montures semblent naviguer sur une mer arc en ciel, et nous, juchés sur leur dos, nous volons au dessus d'un tapis de fleurs.
Dans ces moments là, vous vous sentez beaux, vous vous sentez forts, vous vous sentez en communion parfaite avec la nature : vous vous prenez pour un dieu.
Envahi de ce sentiment de toute puissance, je lâche les étriers pour faire corps avec la monture.
J'ai bien pris le rythme de sa foulée, je suis très bien, je m'enhardis et je lâche les rênes, j'écarte les bras et, tel un Léonardo Caprio sur le retour , je lève mon visage vers les cieux bleu azur et je hurle :
"JE SUIS LE MAÎÎÎÎÎÎÎÎTREU DU M..."
Las, ma vaillante monture, toute surprise par ce bruit imprévu qui vient juste au dessus de sa tête, comme ça, sans prévenir, fait un brusque écart à droite.
Las, les lois de la physique et de l'énergie cinétique étant ce qu'elles sont et n'étant plus relié à ma monture que par le contact précaire de mes jambes, je la quitte et poursuis seul la trajectoire initiale
"...DU M...MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER..."
Las, les lois de gravitation étant ce qu'elles sont, le superbe vol en ligne droite qui semblait aussi parfaitement asymptotique à la courbure terrestre et me promettait un survol magnifique du champ de fleurs toutes plus belles les unes que les autres, se transforme impitoyablement en une courbe de quart d'élipse dont on voit bien où elle va se terminer : je vais m'aplatir la gueule dans l'herbe comme une bouse...
"...EEEERRRRRRRRRRRD...."
Les fleurs qui dessinaient vues de là haut un magnifique tableau de Monet se font plus proches, plus précises. Peu avant le contact, ce sont plutôt les tournesols de VanGogh que j'ai devant les yeux...et juste derrière, la taloche promise...
"...RDEEEEE OhPutain !!!
Ce genre de rêve, vous procure de ces réveils en sursaut propres à épouvanter ceux qui y assistent.
Sabine, s'en trouve toute réveillée.
"ben qu'est-ce qu'y a?"
"Rien...euh...je rêvais qu'on faisait du cheval..."
Elle se marre.
"Et t'es encore tombé ?"
"Tombé ? Mais je ne tombe jamais ! Sauf en rêve...parfois..."
"C'est vrai, sauf en rêve...parfois...et parfois en vrai aussi..."












Parfois les passages se font escarpés et tourmentés, les chevaux y sont à l'aise, ils ont le pied sûr et il faut les laisser faire.
Nous allons parfois plus vite que les 4x4


























Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...


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.
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:


A little sneak peek?















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.
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.


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







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.












