Photo Safaris in Kenya

October 9 - Day 1

There’s an old Chinese proverb I particularly like: "Dú wán juán shù, búrú xing wán li lú." In slightly more familiar terms, it means you always learn more by traveling ten thousand miles than by reading ten thousand books. And I’m the perfect guy for this because, first, I don’t have time to read ten thousand books about our new destination... And second, the proverb is literally made in our new adventure playground: China!

China... or should I say, "Paradox-land"! A country we see everywhere—on the news or on the "Made in China" labels of half the objects around us—but one we actually know very little about. A country hurtling toward the future while still casually chatting with its rich past. A country that, through our Western lens, seems uniform and just filled with Chinese people who all look alike, yet reveals an incredible cultural, natural, demographic, and culinary diversity as soon as you dig a little deeper. A country with a reputation for being logistically tricky for solo travelers, yet where you can book public toilets on your smartphone. In short, a delightful mess of disorienting contradictions—and, of course, a destination that was bound to charm our wandering soles for a while.

That "while" will be two weeks... And the "we," since I wanted the best in the world to join me, will be Flo and me in this backpacking duo stamped with wanderlust! Just the two of us for two weeks to explore a tiny part of this continent-sized country, trying to understand how old wooden stilt houses coexist in the middle of futuristic skyscrapers glowing with lights, tasting all the weird and wonderful things that come our way, and—incidentally—covering the famous ten thousand kilometers from our proverb.

Well... we’ll probably cover a little less than that, but enough to let us write our own travel journal instead of reading others’... Because you know us—between living our lives watching others live theirs by reading ten thousand books, or writing our own by truly roaming the world, we’ve long since chosen our side! And you, who’s reading this—team book or team live?

Hello, Following our trip on the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route this summer, we’re sharing our experience in this travel journal. We’re Richard and Bernadette, both 64 years old, and we’re gravel bike-packing cyclists. We’ve completed several gravel bike trips in France and neighboring countries, and Richard has also done some in South America. We left on July 22, 2026, from Geneva to Calgary via Frankfurt with our bikes carefully packed in boxes, and we returned on October 8 from El Paso to Geneva via Chicago and Frankfurt.

The GDMBR is a mountain route that closely follows the Pacific/Atlantic continental divide, starting in Banff, Canada, and ending at the Mexican border in Antelope Wells, New Mexico. This crossing of the American West is one of the longest mountain biking routes in the world, winding through wild valleys, mountain ranges, and desert plateaus. It stretches about 4,400 km with a total elevation gain of around 60,000 m. The average altitude is 2,000 m, and the highest point reaches 3,600 m. The route is 80% off-pavement (gravel roads, dirt, and a few trail segments). It’s also known for the annual Tour Divide race, which brings together the best riders in the discipline every June and follows roughly the same route.

We prepared for this trip over several months, using a few websites and an older guidebook (the 2013 English edition).



With this, we were able to organize our journey with as much information as possible, a GPS track, and gear suited to the weather conditions, terrain, and sparse resupply points in remote areas.

Once we arrived in Banff, we picked up bear spray to handle a particular challenge: the wildlife we weren’t familiar with.



After landing in Calgary, we assembled and equipped our bikes at the airport. That first evening, we were welcomed by Mike, who invited us to his place when we were looking for a spot to pitch our tent. Then we made our way to Banff over two days, taking a fairly quiet road to Canmore and then a bike path.



A visit to Banff, a charming tourist town in the national park. Its famous Fairmont Hotel.



The starting point of the GDMBR at the arch of this hotel complex.



Here we are, immersed in the wilderness—just a few pedal strokes away from the town, the contrast is striking. Powerful rivers, vast landscapes, and our first encounter with a mule deer.



Spray Lake, our first basic campsite: no showers, dry toilets, no water fountain—we filter lake water. Most GDMBR campsites are like this.





We took the west side of the lake—a longer and wilder route. A few fallen trees blocked the path, forcing us to carry our bikes. But the stunning landscapes made it all worth it!



Our first single track through a forest marked by past wildfires.





Most campgrounds have tables and metal fire rings for safe campfires, which makes setting up camp much easier—especially nice after a long, tiring day! During this trip, we mostly slept in our tent, either in established campgrounds or wild bivouacs.

To be continued...

Preamble: Why La Gomera?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



And we start the trip with music!

We start the trip with music!

I had to leave Thailand as my 60-day visa was coming to an end, and this time I opted for a 14-day visit to Japan. I’d already spent 3 days in Tokyo a few years ago on a business trip, which left me with a great impression. Y, my Thai partner, had never been there. That’s why we chose a fairly classic itinerary, including a few castles and Kyoto among other things.

Before diving into the details of our trip, I’d like to recap the expenses we incurred. This will be useful for some of you, and it’ll help us prepare for our next trip to Japan.

I’ve categorized our expenses into 5 groups: - Hotels: 1150 € (breakfast included) - Transportation: 278 € (trains, buses) - Big expenses: 487 € (souvenirs and a few necessary items) - Excursions: 116 € (museum visits, temples, castles) - Daily expenses: 1125 € (meals, small purchases) Total = 3194 €, or 228 € per day on average. I’m excluding flights, as those depend on everyone’s arrangements (departure location, travel dates, etc.).

Jpeg below: apologies for “hotel” without a circumflex—my software isn’t French!



For hotels, we always chose decent but not luxurious places, well-located to let us walk to and from transportation hubs. We systematically avoided taxis, which are notoriously expensive in Japan. We’ve also gotten into the habit over several trips of traveling with minimal luggage: one duffel bag each (7-8 kg) plus the small carry-on allowed on planes (2-3 kg). This lets us travel with three sets of clothes (what we’re wearing plus two changes). We add a checked bag for the return trip to accommodate the things we buy along the way.

‘Transportation’ and ‘Big expenses’: I’ll give more details in the day-by-day account.

We didn’t do any extravagant excursions, like safaris or sports activities.

Meals and food make up the bulk of our daily expenses. We often ate at izakayas, which offer great value—between 2000 and 6000 yen for two (about 11-12 to 33-34 € for two, usually around 20-25 €). We didn’t hold back, but we also didn’t go to high-end restaurants.

More to come while I gather my photos: General Remarks.

In the summer of 2026, we packed our backpacks again to wander around Jotunheimen National Park in Norway.

We’d never heard of this park just a few months earlier—we discovered it by following threads online.

It’s billed as the most mountainous park in the country, which really appealed to us after scrapping our original plan further north.

Unfortunately, it’s also the most crowded, which immediately made it less appealing! The presence of the highest peak in the Scandinavian Alps and the "famous" Bessengen ridge (famous because it’s apparently well-known across the country) probably has a lot to do with that.

Since we’d managed to avoid the crowds on the Kungsleden trails by camping away from the huts and timing our hike to miss the biggest groups of walkers, we figured we had the formula down and gave in to the call of the Norwegian mountains.

It’s the most mountainous park, sure, but also quite challenging in terms of progress, as we’d soon discover during the trek. And with uncooperative weather, we got the winning combo of a demanding hike. But I’m getting ahead of myself...

For the end of the trip, we planned a few days in Dovrefjell National Park—these two parks are easily connected by public transport—to see something different and, most importantly, to try and spot the musk oxen that live there.

My 04/08 - Arrival in Oslo Wed 05/08 - Bygdin – Torfinsbu Thu 06/08 - Torfinsbu - Gjendebu Fri 07/08 - Gjendebu - Fondsbu Sat 08/08 - Day hike to Slotafjellet Sun 09/08 - Day hike to Lake Kvitevatnet Mon 10/08 - Fondsbu - Gjendebu Tue 11/08 - Gjendebu - Before the Bessengen ridge Wed 12/08 - Bessengen ridge – Maurvangen campsite Thu 13/08 - Knutshoe ridge Fri 14/08 - Bus transfer to Spiterstulen hut via Lom Sat 15/08 - Day hike to Galdhøpiggen Sun 16/08 to Wed 19/08: Dovrefjell End of the trip and wrap-up

After a first trip in 2009 (already!) where we basically did a circuit passing through Hazyview, a private reserve in Sabi Sands, Santa Lucia and iSimangaliso, Hluhluwe, and the South African part of Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park, then a quick stop in 2013 to go to Lesotho, we wanted to come back to this country.

Why not the Cape Town region this time, but there was no way we’d return to this part of the world without going on a safari. Mountain Zebra or the Karoo seem more about landscapes than animals, and Addo doesn’t excite me much either... So it’ll be Kruger.

Flight prices, schedules, and durations led us to a Paris-Cape Town trip, returning from Johannesburg to Paris with British Airways, so via Heathrow.

Now we just have to figure out how to fit in a lot of things without driving too many kilometers or changing accommodations every day, at least in the Cape Town region. Here’s what we ended up with:

Arrival in Cape Town on Saturday, October 10 at 11 AM

2 nights in Hermanus

1 night in Franschhoek

2 nights in Mountceder in the Cederberg

3 nights in Hout Bay

Sunday: transition day—flight to Johannesburg, drive toward Kruger, night in Lydenburg.

Kruger: 1 night in Letaba, 2 in Satara, 1 in Lower Sabie.

Last night in Mbombela (formerly Nelspruit) before heading back to the airport for an evening return flight.

Friday, October 9

Pretty stressful departure.

First, I woke up in the middle of the night, convinced I’d swapped my first and last names during check-in 🤪... Couldn’t fall back asleep, even though I knew British Airways wouldn’t answer before 9 AM.

Well, for them, everything was fine... but then they started talking about ETA... an ETA for England 😮? ?? Yes, it’s recent. Apparently, you don’t need one for an air-to-air transit... but you never know, it’s better to have it just in case. No one could clearly tell me it wasn’t necessary. In the end, we didn’t get it... and we didn’t need it.

But then, our flight ended up leaving Paris 45 minutes late (10 minutes due to a schedule change and 35 minutes of actual delay), so our 2-hour layover shrank to 1 hour and 15 minutes. That should be enough, right? The board showed our flight at Gate B: great, it’s right next door! But at Gate B, three employees were just there to tell everyone who showed up that security had to be done at Gate A... and off we went running through the corridors, endless escalators going up and down, a little shuttle ride, security at Gate A (“You’re going to be cutting it close!” Oh really? 😠), then pretty much the same route back to end up just a few dozen meters from our starting point! 😠

Boarding was already well underway, and after all that running, we were hot and thirsty, but phew! We made it onto the plane!

Saturday, October 10 On the other hand, nothing to complain about on this London-Cape Town flight—it arrived early!

I booked a (small) Suzuki S-Presso because it seemed to have a higher ground clearance than its competitors. Unfortunately, we ended up with a Tata Tiago (yes, it exists), which is lower (and also smaller and with an even more sluggish engine... yes, we were able to compare because in Johannesburg, we *did* get an S-Presso). Somehow, we managed to fit everything in the trunk (“Above all, don’t leave anything visible!”), and off we went to our first accommodation in Hermanus, under glorious sunshine.

Nikki welcomed us warmly, explained what there was to see in the area, and advised us to book a restaurant for that evening.

After dropping off our bags, we headed to the “cliff path,” just 3 minutes from our lodging. This part of the coast is famous for southern right whales from June to November. Let’s cut to the chase: there *are* whales, but they’re very far away and seem to be sleeping 😕. At best, we saw (photos taken at 600mm): A few ripples or a faint spout,



a bit of tail...



...or head.



Too bad—the owner of our next accommodation told us she’d seen around thirty whales up close here in early September.

Without whales, the dassies (or rock hyraxes) are everywhere... and fun to watch.

The other local star (when there are no whales 😏)

Introduction: As has become a habit, I’ve organized a trip for late October—a surprise trip for my poor wife, who follows along without saying much (or almost nothing). She knows she’s going away, when, but not where! Our friends and family keep bombarding me with questions to get the info, but I’m holding strong. The guesses are flying, the best one being, “Knowing him, he’s definitely heading somewhere sunny, even if all the southern destinations have already been done for a short stay.” It makes me laugh because there are still a few places I haven’t discovered yet. So yes, choosing to go to Belgium at the end of October—especially for someone as sensitive to the cold as I am—is bold. I’m not quite at Philippe Abrams’ level, but still, heading *Noooorth* from me is pretty daring. So, contrary to my friends’ predictions, I’m not flying south but taking my car, turning the wheel north, and off we go!

Day 1: The outbound trip When I say I’m not flying, it’s only half true because we’re leaving the day French media—with their signature doom-and-gloom—announce a terrible storm. While Storm Austen is indeed forecasted, the Belgians are reporting it as the first storm of the year with a bit more restraint. The drive won’t be entirely smooth as we reach the Hauts-de-France region: the wind is strong, the rain is heavy, but it’s not the apocalypse. Just drive carefully and slow down—sounds like a road safety message! We left Lyon at 8 AM and arrived in Bruges at 4 PM, “...and that’s even with the trucks at the entrance to Angoulême!” What’s he talking about—going through Angoulême? French cinephiles will get the reference. We got a warm welcome at our B&B, and since it was barely drizzling, we took a quick stroll around town to stretch our legs. Headed to the Markt, visited the Prinsenhof, the Palace of the Dukes of Flanders. We actually went in because it started pouring. It’s free, a first taste of Flemish culture, and it’s great.



A little tired, we headed back to our B&B, mostly because the heavy rain forced us to. We got soaked (some people must be laughing). After drying off, we went to the nearest restaurant, Parazzar, typically Bruges-style, and my wife tried her first beer. Personally, I don’t like beer—*What the heck was I thinking?*—so I had a red wine, a Tinto, which would’ve been local back in Charles V’s time. First fries—because I *love* them—and it’s time to call it a night. A good night’s sleep awaits.

The +: We made it! The -: It’s raining, it’s windy, it’s wet—party at the...

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.

Japan, five weeks between unknown lands and familiar paths



Hello everyone,

I invite you to follow me on this fifth exploration trip to Japan.

Five weeks or so!

For the itinerary, my usual mix: New discoveries, well-known places, and others less so.

At the heart of the trip, a two-week road trip by car. I wavered for a long time between the San'in region, from Tottori to Yamaguchi, and southern Kyushu. By a narrow margin, southern Kyushu won out.

Waterfalls that seem even more impressive. A more exotic atmosphere. Tea-growing lands to savor... Kagoshima will be the starting point. Then a loop from west to east.

And, of course, the must-see stops... Those little Japanese touches. Gourmet cuisine. Japanese, but not only!

And then, the soul of the trip, I hope: Human connections. Big or small.

Otherwise? Several local festivals. Osaka, unexpected. Miyakojima, between beauty and small disappointments. Tokyo... it's Tokyo!

So, travel with me. The suitcase is waiting, with stories that are sometimes generous, but always driven by the love of travel experienced firsthand.

Yōkoso, Nihon! Welcome to Japan!

My first trip to Morocco dates back to the early 90s.

Four more followed...

I’d never gone further north than Casablanca, Volubilis, or Fez—it was time to fix that!

So I planned a route that would fill in the gaps while revisiting a few places.

This route is pretty classic—if you’re looking for something original, you might want to skip it!

The starting point of the trip: the city of Rabat.

The stops?

Azrou, Fez, Al Hoceïma, Akchour, Tetouan, Tangier, Asilah, and finally Rabat.

Mostly an urban trip, then.

Too much?

We’ll see at the end of the travel journal!

Hello everyone! 🙂

No wonder Tangier has inspired so many artists, writers, painters, and musicians… The "Pearl of the North" will be the first stop on a 12-day journey that will take us through Rabat, Fez, and Meknes.

This is my 15th trip to Morocco, and I’d never been to Tangier before! A round-trip flight from Carcassonne for just 55 € sealed the deal, and here we are, landing two hours later.

Four medinas, four perspectives—an enchantment that remains untouched. Once again, Richard and I will combine our viewpoints in a travel journal, sharing them with you—his through words, mine through images.

February 9 - Day 1

"So, my little wanderers, back at the decks? What’s this mystery destination you’ve got in store for us at the start of the year?"

Yes, the schoolyard bell’s ringing again! We’re hitting the road... or rather, the skies! At first glance, our destination might surprise more than a few. First off, simply because I was here exactly twenty years ago, and I don’t usually like retracing my own footsteps. Secondly, because the name of this place screams mass tourism—basically the opposite of what Flo and I look for.

Despite that, in this land of backsheesh, I’d promised myself I’d come back one day to experience it my way. And since Flo told me, during our wanderer chats, that this destination straddling Africa and the Middle East was in her top 2 travel dreams, the stars aligned for this roots-style trip to quickly make it onto our pharaonic festivities program! Unless you’re totally clueless in general knowledge, you’ve probably guessed by now—we’re off to Egypt! Of course, a few classics will be on our itinerary, but above all, we want to soak up a culture that can’t be appreciated in four-star resorts or on a Nile cruise boat. And let’s be clear, these next two weeks won’t be a walk in the park—neither for our two daughters who are joining us, nor for our bodies!

And that’s clear from the get-go: after our first flight, eight hours of trying (and failing) to sleep on Milan airport’s metal seats, our second flight, landing, passport stamps, our Uber ride, and our first Cairo kilometers, we finally drop our exhaustion at the little guesthouse we booked in Giza. Doesn’t all that energy deserve a little reward?

Oh, absolutely! And here it is: a full-on slap in the face for everyone! But just look at this view from our hotel terrace? For 20 € a night for four, even with this incredible view, I figured the room must be pretty shabby, right? Nope... Is the staff rude, then? Nope... Okay, so what’s the catch? You’re gonna tell me breakfast is included too? Well, yes! Honestly, this Egypt trip is off to a great start.



And the rest of the afternoon, spent rubbing shoulders with locals, only confirmed this vibe. After digesting our pyramid view, we dove into the hustle and bustle of our neighborhood with the goal of exchanging money, eating at street stalls, and testing the hospitality of the locals. Ten out of ten!









Eight little sun breads with baba ganoush and falafel? 80 pounds, or 1.5 €. A dozen Middle Eastern pastries? Same! 80 pounds! Two hawawshis, those little pita breads stuffed with meat and spices? 10 pounds each, or about twenty cents! Not to mention all those smiles and free "welcomes" left and right!!!





What a welcome! We end this first day with a sunset over the three sisters of Giza—where we’ll obviously be gawking tomorrow...







https://voyageforum.com/images/posts/small/1789072399-cCyLDYuFwPLAZTY.jpg

Hi everyone,

We're leaving on November 1st for five weeks, just the two of us, from north to south and then east: Santiago, Puerto Varas and the Lake District, Punta Arenas, Puerto Natales and Torres del Paine, El Calafate, El Chaltén, Ushuaïa, then Montevideo, José Ignacio, and Buenos Aires, returning on December 3rd. Everything is planned by us, without an agency, just like our previous trips. I’d like to thank everyone who shared their travel stories—they’ve been a huge inspiration. I’ll post an update here each week: first about the trip itself, with some great tips, and then a few lines about an experiment I’m running alongside it. Feel free to ask questions—I’ll answer as soon as I have signal.

The experiment is about the *method*. For twenty years, every trip started with a paper notebook, then the same Excel spreadsheet: one line per stop, dates, where we sleep, how we get there, what we do. But every time, the same limitations: paper gets messy, the spreadsheet doesn’t recalculate when a stop changes, neither tracks what’s left to book or by when, confirmations get buried in my inbox, tickets stay in a binder at home, and every evening, I’m juggling updates across three group chats.

So I built a tool that centralizes everything: the stops and their dates, which auto-update; what’s left to book, with deadlines and reminders; confirmations, organized by email forwarding; the planned and actual budget; the offline map on my phone; and the evening journal for my loved ones. This trip is the first I’m doing entirely with it, from planning to return—each update will share what worked and what didn’t. It’s already been a huge help in the planning phase, but now, let the adventure begin!

First update next Sunday from Puerto Natales.

I love islands...

I love islands. So it’s no surprise that the Azores have been catching my eye for a few years now. The first time I suggested them to my dear partner back in 2021, he preferred the Lofoten Islands—an excellent choice, as it turned out, since we got to visit with hardly any crowds. But for various reasons, the opportunity didn’t come up again in the following years. Until last year, that is. But by then, we’d left it too late—too late for the Azores, I mean—and the accommodation options on Flores and São Jorge were extremely limited. We decided to skip it without even looking at car rentals. So this year, we booked our flights, lodging, and cars *way* in advance (between December of last year and early this year).

The Azores consist of nine islands, so you have to make choices. I quickly ruled out São Miguel, which deserves a week all to itself: from what I’d read on various blogs, some travelers seemed disappointed after visiting the other islands, even feeling it lacked the Azores’ unique charm. True or not, that was reason enough to skip it.

In the end, we wanted to go to Flores for its lush nature (and because it’s reputed to be the most breathtaking), São Jorge for its rural/nature vibe, and Terceira for its cultural side and *impérios* (more on that later). With the time we had, we could add another island without rushing. We like to take our time and wander a bit—whether it’s a viewpoint or a hike, we always spend longer than *everyone* else. Pico won out over Faial thanks to its wine culture. And of course, there’s Corvo, which is usually visited as a day trip from Flores. I thought it’d be nice to spend the night there to experience the atmosphere once most tourists had left. I hesitated between one or two nights but ultimately went with two (so we wouldn’t be rushed by the boat schedule). It was an excellent decision.

Here’s how it all panned out:

August 25: departure for Terceira via Lisbon at 7:40 AM; August 25–29: Terceira; August 29: flight to Corvo. It was supposed to take half a day, and we were meant to arrive in the early afternoon, but between schedule changes and delays, it ended up taking almost the whole day; August 29–31: Corvo; August 31: boat to Flores around 8:30 AM; August 31–September 5: Flores; September 5: flight to Faial in the early afternoon (originally scheduled for the morning, but the times changed)—visit to Horta; September 6: boat to São Jorge around 9:00 AM; September 6–11: São Jorge; September 11: boat to Pico at 11:15 AM; September 11–16: Pico; September 16: flight to Paris via Lisbon from Pico around 10:30 AM.

We had to juggle a bit to optimize the prices of our flight tickets from Paris and the inter-island travel.

Hi there, I wanted to share my huge disappointment after my trip to Madeira. The island is known for its hikes, so I was really interested in checking them out. Unfortunately, in 2026, the freedom associated with mountain trails was heavily restricted. The most beautiful hikes are now paid and require mandatory time slots for entry—talk about planning ahead! The control is based on tickets, not time slots, which clearly shows that nature preservation wasn’t the priority behind this measure... Of course, you can find alternatives to the paid PRs, but if, like me, you value the freedom to hike, don’t go to Madeira!

The latest travel journal about Turkmenistan dates back to 2019. Here’s a quick update on this vast desert country, which is now a bit easier to visit than before.

This is my first travel journal. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. The country is slowly opening up, but it’s still possible to visit sites where you’ll be completely alone. In five days, I saw two Hongkongers, a few Germans, and a Chilean at the crater, ten Chinese people in a capital bazaar, and that’s it!

It’s possible to visit Turkmenistan from Uzbekistan. The easiest and most economical way is to take a taxi to the border from Bukhara. The trip takes a little over an hour.

Crossing the border takes quite a while because many Turkmen bring back items bought in Uzbekistan to resell in Turkmenistan. For example, diapers, baby products, or beauty products. It took me over 2.5 hours to cross the border. To visit Turkmenistan, it’s mandatory to have a guide and go through a travel agency. British agencies often offer three-, five-, or seven-day trips for over 1,500 or 2,000 €. But if your budget is more limited, you can contact a few Turkmen agencies directly by email, and they’ll make you an offer between 700 and 1,300 € for three to seven days. I took a five-day trip from Turkmenabat in the northeast of the country to Dashoguz in the north. The goal was to visit the main UNESCO-listed sites, including Merv, and archaeological sites like Nisa or Gonur Tepe.

Your guide will also be your driver. They’ll pick you up at the border. The formalities are very long because customs officers have to stamp multiple documents, and obtaining the visa you previously requested from your travel agency requires several checks. But the process goes relatively smoothly, even if each step takes a while.

Once on the other side, the first surprise is the brand-new highway all the way to Turkmenabat. A very long line of trucks stretches for several kilometers on the Turkmen side to cross the border into Uzbekistan. According to my guide, Turkmen trucks transport gas and cotton (though not this season, since the harvest is in September), but they mainly fill up their tanks because fuel is much cheaper in Turkmenistan. A full tank for a car costs about 3 €, which is unbeatable.



From the Farap border post, the goal is to reach the city of Mary, which is home to the UNESCO-listed site of Merv in its suburbs, about thirty kilometers away. This city is known as a foundation by Alexander the Great in the 4th century BC under the name Alexandria of Margiana. Several fortresses are visible.



After more than three hours on the road, we have lunch at a Turkish restaurant called Aladdin. Several quotes from the president are visible along the highway, but the road is in good condition, and we move along easily. This will be by far the best road in the country—things will get much worse later.



Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.

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

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

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

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

The Itinerary: Day 1: Departure from Brussels Day 2: Arrival in Osaka Day 3: To Himeji, then Kurashiki Day 4: To Fukuyama, then Tomo no Ura, then Onomichi Day 5: Cycling the Shimanami Kaido Day 6: To Takahara, then Hiroshima Day 7: To Kyoto to attend the Aoi Matsuri parade Day 8: To Miyajima Day 9: Hiroshima, then Kyoto Day 10: Southern Kyoto Day 11: Northern Kyoto Day 12: Final day in Kyoto, then to Nagatsugawa Day 13: Start of the Nakasendo Trail (Magome to Tsumago) Day 14: Second day of the trail (Kiso Fukushima) Day 15: Third day of the trail (Narai), then Matsumoto Day 16: To Mt. Fuji (Kawaguchiko) Day 17: To Tokyo Day 18: Excursion to Enoshima and Kamakura Day 19: Flight home, with a 10-hour layover in Hong Kong Day 20: Arrival in Brussels

Hello and welcome aboard this travel journal. We’re heading to Slovakia together! Why this country? After visiting Hungary, Slovenia, Romania, and Poland in recent years, I’ve fallen in love with Eastern European countries. I adore the Slavic soul, its Austro-Hungarian villages, the gentle landscapes, the Carpathian Mountains, and that slightly mysterious atmosphere. Slovakia evokes a certain imagination with its deep forests, medieval castles, and cobbled villages. After seeing photos of the High Tatras—especially Lake Štrbské Pleso and Spiš Castle—I thought, "Let’s do it! We’re going!" So, will Slovakia live up to what I imagine? We’ll find out together. We decided to travel as a group of six (five adults and a six-year-old child), by car (we needed two). Here’s the day-by-day itinerary for this family trip, which started with a 3-day stay in Vienna (see the dedicated travel journal):

The itinerary: Day 1: Drive from Vienna to Banská Štiavnica and visit the town, then drive to Handlová Day 2: Bojnice Castle, the village of Čičmany, and a walk in the treetops at Bojnice, return to Handlová Day 3: Depart for Orava, visit Orava Castle and the Orava Skansen, drive to Veľký Slavkov Day 4: Visit Slovak Paradise—its gorges, lakes, and ice cave—overnight in Veľký Slavkov Day 5: Visit Bardejov, the "Death Road," wooden churches, and Ľubovňa Castle, overnight in Veľký Slavkov Day 6: Walks and hikes in the High Tatras, Lake Štrbské Pleso, Solisko summit, treetop walk in Ždiar, overnight in Veľký Slavkov Day 7: Drive to Košice, visit Spiš Castle, Tokaj wine route in Veľká Trňa, overnight in Košice Day 8: Visit Košice, overnight in Košice Day 9: Drive to Bratislava, stop at the Aragonite Cave in the Slovak Karst, overnight in Bratislava Day 10: Visit Bratislava, overnight stay Day 11 and 12: Return to France

Budget: I’m giving prices for 2 adults / 1 child. Slovakia is more expensive than it seems, and some expenses shouldn’t be underestimated. Transportation: Tolls and gas from France: 500 € round trip Slovak vignette for one month: 17.10 € Gas is fixed at 1.49 € per liter (E10) Parking at sites (all paid by the day, even in the most remote villages, even if you stay for just an hour). Payment is often required in cash upon arrival: total 63 € We didn’t pay at Spiš (we arrived before the cashier) or Ľubovňa (we arrived after the cashier left). Parking at Orava Village was free. In Košice and Bratislava, we parked for free at our accommodations. Public transport in Bratislava and Košice: 1-1.2 € for a bus ticket. Vending machines are available at some stops; otherwise, buy via SMS (Slovak phones only) or official sales points.



Accommodation: We mostly chose houses so we could cook ourselves and save on food. I’ve rated our satisfaction with these accommodations from 1 to 5 stars. Padua: DC Hotel: 1 night, 77 € ***** Handlová: Chata Remata: 2 nights, 120 € ***** Veľký Slavkov: Aplend: 4 nights, 220 € ** Košice: Luxury Old Town Loft 320m²: 2 nights, 120 € ***** Bratislava: Hotel Viktor: 2 nights, 138 € *** Brescia: Hotel Antica Fonte: 1 night, 82 € ***** Total: 757 €

Food: Groceries at Lidl for 5 meals for 3: 100 € (really cheap) Restaurants: 10-15 € per dish, ice cream 1-2.4 € per scoop, crêpes 8-12 €, a glass of wine 6-10 €... total: 500 €

Visits: There are discounts for seniors and children, which is great. We spent nearly 600 € in total, which is a lot. However, it’s a cultural destination with many castles, museums, caves, wine cellars, and nature activities: cable cars, canopy walks, paid hikes (Slovak Paradise gorges)... In the end, this trip to Slovakia cost nearly 2500 € for 3. We also need to add the Vienna portion to that. Now, here’s the day-by-day account of this beautiful journey.

Hi everyone,

Actually, we ended up going to Japan almost by chance. I’d caught glimpses of the country during business trips, and it had been on my “wish list” for a while, but I thought we’d go “when the kids were grown up.”

But this summer (2016), the kids couldn’t agree on a destination—their wishes were completely opposite. Then, realizing that flight tickets weren’t outrageously priced—and having read that Japan wasn’t as expensive as people think—we, the parents, suggested Japan… while warning that it would be scorching hot and humid and that no one should complain. Our eldest (18) was immediately thrilled: “Oh! Mom! I’ve always dreamed of going to Japan!” She convinced her brother (16) that it was the perfect destination. Deal sealed: we’re going to Japan, but no one complains about the heat.

After some forum discussions and family brainstorming, I settled on the following itinerary. One non-negotiable shaped part of our choices: being in Hiroshima on August 6th to attend the lantern floating ceremony. To avoid overloading the trip with extra transport, we skipped Nara, Nikko, and Kamakura.

Day 1 - Arrival at 8:30 AM in Osaka – Kyoto - around the station Day 2 - Kyoto - East - night: Kyoto Day 3 - Kyoto - North and center - night: Kyoto Day 4 - Osaka (stroll with Osaka Safari) - Fushimi Inari -night : Kyoto Day 5 - Train - Naoshima - night: Uno Day 6 - Teshima -night: Uno Day 7 - Naoshima – Hiroshima - night: Hiroshima Day 8 - Hiroshima – Commemorations - night: Hiroshima Day 10 - Miyajima- night: Miyajima Day 10 - Miyajima - Himeji Castle - night: Osaka Day 11 - Osaka - night: Osaka Day 12 - Kyoto - West -night: Osaka Day 13 - Kanazawa to Ainokura - night: Ainokura Day 14 - Shirakawa-go - Takayama - night: Takayama Day 15 - Kamikochi night: Takayama Day 16 - Takayama - return to Kanazawa night: Kanazawa Day 17 - Kanazawa -night: Kanazawa Day 18 - Travel to Tokyo (Shibuya) -night: Tokyo Day 19 - Tokyo (visit with Tokyo Free Guide – Yoyogi Park - Meiji Shrine - Harajuku - Takeshita-dori - Omote Sando - Odaiba) - night: Tokyo Day 20 - Tokyo (with Tokyo Safari) - night: Tokyo Day 21 - Tokyo (Tsukiji, Hama-Rikyu Onshi Teien, Asakusa and Senso-ji, Kappabashi, Ameyoko, and Ueno) - night: Tokyo Day 22 - Tokyo (Shibuya-Yoyogi Park again - Ikebukuro - Shinjuku (Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, Omoide-yokocho, Golden Gai) - night: Tokyo Day 23 - Tokyo (Yanaka – Ueno – Edo-Tokyo Museum - Takashita-Dori again - back to Shibuya) - departure at 10:50 PM for Paris

(You can access the published days directly by clicking on them).

The itinerary perfectly matched our expectations: a good pace, a wide variety of visits, the must-sees, but also a first taste of rural Japan. If we were to do it again, I’d do exactly the same (except for the back-and-forth between Kyoto and Osaka on Days 4 and 12, which were due to my desire to explore Osaka with Osaka Safari). Of course, we had to skip some sights, especially in Kyoto where we missed a few “highlights,” but that was a deliberate choice—I’d limited our time in the city, which is known for being stifling in summer.

For accommodations, we mixed Airbnb apartments and quadruple rooms in guesthouses and ryokan. It worked out perfectly. The apartments gave us more space and the chance to dine in some evenings, while the guesthouses and ryokan helped us experience Japanese customs.

First, a quick recap: all four of us were enchanted by our trip. Japan is a constant source of wonder, just like the preface of *Tokyo Sanpo* by Florent Chavouet describes—I’ll take this opportunity to plug the book, which I read with great pleasure after our vacation. That’s exactly it: everything is a reason for amazement. Everything is so different from home. I wanted to photograph everything around me constantly. I promise, I won’t say “photograph like a Japanese” anymore—during this trip, *I* was the Japanese. And I better understand the culture shock Japanese travelers experience in Europe.

As a friend of mine put it: “It’s simple—they have ten fingers, so they count in base 10. Otherwise, they do everything differently from us.” Well summarized.

Another thing: everything is easy. Everything seems to have its place and be exactly where it should be. The smallest detail seems to have been thought out to make life easier. Things that come to mind: the incredibly well-designed signage in train stations and the subway, the ubiquitous public toilets, designated smoking areas, those hyper-detailed maps with all the useful information available at every place we visited… These maps are so well done that we got into the habit of picking them up systematically. It’s that simple: I came back to Paris with a complete collection. And when we arrived in Takayama by car, our first stop was at the train station to get THE map. But this order goes beyond all these practical elements. There’s a certain *je ne sais quoi* that makes you feel like everything is exactly where it should be. Even during rush hour, in the crowds, people manage to avoid each other in a smooth, collision-free flow—the opposite of the Paris metro. Anyone who’s experienced certain transfers in Paris at certain times will understand.

The exquisite politeness of the Japanese and their desire to be helpful are another highlight of the trip. Every person we met tried to help us and make our lives easier. It was really great.

Oh! I almost forgot: Japan’s hyper-safe side. I’ve rarely felt as safe as I did in Japan. No need to keep an eye on your belongings—they’re not going anywhere. One example among many: in Tokyo, Japanese women leave their bags open with their smartphones casually placed on top. Even I could’ve taken them without them noticing, let alone a pickpocket… No wonder France is seen as dangerous.

That said, I’m not claiming Japanese society is flawless. The role of women and gender relations are downright shocking and archaic from our European perspective. I also don’t think I could live in such a codified society, where the individual is so dissolved into the collective. But for a vacation, it’s simply delightful. On that note, I recommend *Nââânde?!* by Eriko Nakamura, which I discovered after our trip on the recommendation of our eldest’s friend. It’s the story of a Japanese woman married to a Frenchman living in Paris, recounting her astonishment at French habits and customs. Even though I tried to be careful, I’m sure I made quite a few blunders.

As for the climate, it didn’t stop us from enjoying our trip. Sure, we were hot—*really* hot—but by protecting ourselves from the sun (hat for me, caps for the others, plus umbrellas—Japanese-style parasols) and drinking liters and liters of water, it was manageable and didn’t bother us too much, even if we probably had a slower pace than we would’ve with milder weather. That said, with small children, we would’ve struggled more.

Last point before diving into the trip details: the cost. Despite what I’d read, traveling in Japan is still expensive. I’m not talking about our specific trip, where—using our daughter’s 18th birthday and our 20th wedding anniversary as an excuse—I splurged on a few extras that drove up the cost. I was particularly surprised by the price of quadruple rooms, which is roughly the same as two double rooms. So for a family, that’s a significant extra cost. The various paid sites in Kyoto also add up. As for food, it’s generally cheap, but it would be a shame not to budget for a few extras to try some less affordable specialties—like Hida beef in our case.

Hi everyone,

We traveled to Norway in the summer of 2025, from July 17 to 29, to visit Senja Island and the Lofoten archipelago with a rental car. The common thread of these twelve days was clearly hiking, along with a few visits and experiences, and nights spent in a tent or in the car (which made it possible). We chose Narvik Airport for both arrival and departure for several complementary reasons: the desire to visit nearby Senja Island, slightly more affordable airfare, and finally, the rental price of the vehicle—especially the car model we were looking for. We only made one reservation, for the first campsite, as sleeping in a tent made things much easier. But we had the whole structure of the trip planned, a flexible outline that could adapt to the weather conditions we’d encounter. Senja Island isn’t part of the Lofoten archipelago, and during the early stages of planning this trip, we hadn’t planned to visit it. But its relative proximity to Narvik Airport and, above all, its unique geography definitely made us change our minds. We arrived in Evenes, where Narvik Airport is located, nearly 60 km from the city itself. Our first stop was 40 km further in Bjerkvik on the way to Senja, where there’s a Rema 1000 (a very common supermarket chain in Norway). We needed to buy some food and a gas cartridge for our stove. I’d emailed the store manager beforehand, who told me they didn’t sell them but that the two gas stations in the village were likely to have some in stock.

It was only at the Esso station that I found what I needed, but unfortunately, only one cartridge. Luckily, we quickly realized that most campsites (like in Iceland) have a shared kitchen with hotplates. That single small cartridge was just enough for the few nights we spent outside of campsites... We got our first taste of Norway’s characteristic landscapes:

When we arrived at the Senja campsite, it was already 9:30 PM. A sign announced it was full, but luckily, I’d booked it 10 days earlier. By 10:30 PM, as we settled in to eat, it was still broad daylight, and the thermometer read 25°C—despite being at a latitude of 69° North! We went to bed around midnight, exhausted but under the light of a sun that was still very much present. Thanks to Earth’s tilted axis. We’d anticipated this by buying opaque sleep masks because, yes, at this time of year, it’s daylight all the time.

Friday, July 18:

Today, we planned two hikes on the island and a few stops along the way. The map clearly shows that the deepest fjords are in the north and west. Due to time and accessibility, we focused on the northern part of the island. Our first stop was at the viewing platform in Bergbotn:



Then we headed toward Skaland, the starting point for our first hike. Along the way, we found plenty of reasons to stop—especially since, on this first day of travel, our thirst for Nordic landscapes was far from quenched.



The town of Skaland is very practical: free parking, picnic tables for after the hike, and a Joker convenience store right next door. Our goal was the summit of Husfjellet: 670 m of elevation gain, between 8 and 9 km in length, and an estimated 4 hours and 30 minutes.

This hike offers two major viewpoints. The first overlooks the Bergsoyan islands to the west:



At the summit, the view shifts to the Steinfjorden fjord:



You can even clearly see the "Devil’s Teeth," which we’d see from below later:



In total, the hike took us 4 hours and 30 minutes, including all the breaks. We treated ourselves to an ice cream in Skaland to recharge for the next hike. We hit the road again and stopped at Tungeneset to get a closer look at the Devil’s Teeth:



We continued to Fjordgard, the starting point for our second hike. Fjordgard isn’t very welcoming. There was a time when you could park right at the start of the hike up Mount Segla. Now, everything’s blocked off, and locals have even taken to blocking all possible parking spots nearby. You now have to park outside the town at a paid parking lot (90 NOK for 3 hours), adding an extra 2 km (round trip) of walking. Still, that was just a minor inconvenience because the hike that followed quickly made us forget all about it. The hike is fairly short (2 hours) but still has 520 m of elevation gain. This hike was a stark contrast to the first. This morning, we had sweeping views of the vast landscape. Here, Mount Segla, perched on the edge of the cliff, dominates the foreground:





For those prone to vertigo, it might be best to stay at the foot of the mountain, as the trail climbs right along the cliff edge. And from that point on, you quickly understand what verticality really means...



In total, we took 2 hours and 50 minutes, including breaks and the extra walk to the parking lot. The day was already well underway, and with 1,200 m of cumulative elevation gain, it was time to find a spot to eat and sleep. Since we hadn’t made any reservations, we’d planned to bivouac for the night. We weren’t too picky—just practical—so we decided to sleep in the car at the parking lot for tomorrow morning’s hike, just 5 km from Fjordgard.

When it comes to the Caribbean island of Saint-Martin, it's customary to praise its coastline and dreamy beaches—and they certainly deserve it. But in this story, I’d like to highlight other memories, aspects, and impressions for a slightly different change of scenery. Enjoy the read—some text and, above all, lots of photos. « Byenveni sou zile Sen Maten! » (Welcome to the island of Saint-Martin)

-- -- Full and luminous To avoid seeming too conventional at the start of this alternative take on Saint-Martin... here’s not a stunning sunrise over the sea but rather a moonrise—a less "typical" choice. And when you get to witness it, it’s a truly unique moment of contemplation. However, three conditions are essential for this spectacle: a full moon phase, a cloud-free horizon, and—most importantly—a moonrise at twilight. That early evening, all the conditions aligned—lucky us! Just above the sea, a strange glow gradually appeared. A huge moon was about to shine against a deep blue night sky.



What’s more, its light sparkled on the water’s surface—gorgeous! But so fleeting. We’re on the east coast of the island, by the wide stretch of light sand at Baie Orientale, Saint-Martin’s own. Now, just because I wanted to start with something a little different doesn’t mean we should overlook the bright sunrises you can see on this bay. They’re far more common than a beautiful full moonrise, but they also require two things: being an early riser and a clear horizon without misty clouds. Views to soak in without restraint...





Other memories of beautiful lights and lovely colors—a morning when the sun had a brief meet-up with the rain, creating a stunning rainbow.



And let’s talk about the moon again... On a clear night, a "blood moon," the result of a lunar eclipse that had turned our familiar satellite red.



-- --

A butterfly with golden wings! In the tropics, swarms of butterflies flutter everywhere, from flower to flower. They sip the sweet nectar from stamens and blooming corollas with delight.



Here, a monarch, one of the great migratory butterflies, taking its time to enjoy the pollen of this Ixora coccinea—or Japanese hydrangea, but let’s stick to Saint-Martin.



This one is an *Agraulis vanillae*, to be precise—and thanks to the internet for the ID. Photographing them isn’t always easy; these fearless butterflies often fly off before you can get a good focus, challenging both the framing eye and the autofocus! But on the island, I noticed some butterflies were much easier to shoot—those decorating a few murals. ;)





One of the graffiti artists behind several Saint-Martin murals has made it his signature. The talented Jimmy Sheik slips a little butterfly into each of his works, even if it’s not the main subject. It’s a nod to his home island, Guadeloupe, whose territory—with Basse-Terre and Grande-Terre—looks uncannily like a giant butterfly. In the photo above, a great initiative: turning this beach bungalow, abandoned after Hurricane Irma’s (2017) devastation, into a mural canvas—it’s a real success. Well done, artist!

To be continued >>>>>>

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 three years at most in Thailand, and I’m not a big expert on the country. 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 piece together a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who miss 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 guards 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 property, be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs. It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t really 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, are 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 broken for years.

You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the side of the road, sometimes right on the road. When you arrive, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, which reminds 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. Seeing a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you might think it’s best not to cross paths with them at the edge of a field. A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at temples on the brink of death, enduring terrible suffering. No one did anything about it. The image (and the smell) of one of them, dying and emitting 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 well-fed animal quickly became a happy, 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 in them 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 a gimmick—it’s just that 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.

Hello! 🙂

January 2026 Here we go again for new adventures and the pleasure of sharing them with you here! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me with the preparations, even with some last-minute improvisations just days before departure. Thanks to Montagnard74, Jojoone1, Songsam, Attila, Dennis2, NadegerFERM, and the authors whose travel journals about Laos inspired me (Montagnard74, Muriel18, Mavietongs...).

In this story, written by Richard and illustrated by me, we’ll tell you about the journey of four friends: Catherine, Richard, Nathalie, and Bruno. A reinvented but overall successful trip, filled with discoveries and surprises, the scents of spices and frangipani flowers, (too) spicy food, sunsets, and... one big mess.

Hi everyone!

A quick travel journal entry to tell you about the Pont de Gau Ornithological Park, near Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer in the Camargue (13).

A real paradise for flamingos... but also for swarms of mosquitoes that attack in squadrons, without warning and dive-bombing! 🦟😄

And I thought these critters didn’t go for spoiled meat! Clearly, they’re not too picky about freshness! 😵

More seriously, it’s a really nice spot for photography and nature lovers. Kids love it too! If you’re in the area, it’s a great discovery to make.

Here are a few shots from my session yesterday at the end of the day.

675 photos on the counter, currently sorting through them... Still testing the camera body. If I keep about twenty, that’ll already be a win!

Anyway, there’s work to do... and some itching on top of that! 📸🦟😄

Hi everyone,

I’m sharing a little recap of this new 4-week trip to China—nothing fancy, just my experience.

We’re taking advantage of the extended visa exemption to return to China for the 4th time. I loved last summer’s trip so much that I’m a bit worried about being disappointed this year. Plus, I’ve had a few hiccups before this departure: my WeChat account got blocked, and I couldn’t recover it (luckily, Alipay still works fine); I couldn’t verify my 12306 account for weeks; Trip.com failed to book our second train; and I’ve got an injury that’ll slow me down during the trip... Ugh, I hate starting a trip with these kinds of issues. Then, oh surprise! Just before leaving, my 12306 account got verified! Super easy to use from that point on—I could book a few train tickets without fees.

We’re sticking with Free’s e-SIMs, which work great in China.

August 2–3

Anyway, on the morning of August 2nd, we took the RER to CDG. As usual, we couldn’t check in online. It’s always a bit frustrating, especially since we didn’t have any checked luggage. We flew with Air China. We arrived at the check-in counter at 9:50 AM, 2 hours and 40 minutes before the flight. The line for our check-in stretched 300 meters across the airport in both directions. What a joke!! We spent 1 hour and 45 minutes in that line just to reach the counter and get our boarding passes. By then, it was 11:35 AM, and boarding had already started at 11:20 AM. The screens showed a 25-minute walk to our gate—on the other side of the airport, of course—plus we had to go through passport control and security... Long story short, the plane didn’t leave without us 🙂 We boarded among the last passengers, and we took off at 12:30 PM. We’d flown Air China four times before, but this time, it felt *really* low-cost. The check-in chaos, the cramped seats (12 seats per row), no music by artists known outside China, mediocre food, and a boarding area at Beijing Airport with only 10 seats—worthy of Ryanair or EasyJet. And yet, the price was sky-high. Again, D.’s vacation requests were denied outside of July and August, so we’re traveling from August 2nd to 30th. We couldn’t have picked a worse time for inflated prices, and with the situation in Iran, we got hit with a 390 € fuel surcharge. I’ve never paid so much for flights—I felt like I’d bought business class, but nope, far from it!!

We landed in Beijing around 4:15 AM. It was 28°C with thick fog. We drove and drove and drove for 20 minutes, as usual in Beijing. Then we went through a first check, a second check, a third check, and waited for our connecting flight at 6:40 AM. A small Airbus A320, but way more space than in the Boeing 777 from the first flight. We landed in Kunming, Yunnan, around 10:15 AM in the rain.

We headed to the subway. You can’t pay at the machines with Alipay here either, so we set up the transport QR code directly in Alipay to scan at the subway gates. The process is a bit long the first time if you haven’t entered your info before, but once it’s done, it’s *so* much easier! We took Line 6 to the terminus for 6 yuan each.

We’d booked a hotel nearby, on the 16th floor. It’s actually studios on different floors of a huge residential building. The view’s pretty nice from here. We settled in quickly—back to those wooden beds, or rather, mattresses as hard as wood, which we *hadn’t* missed... Then we went out for our first bowl of noodles of the trip and wandered through the shopping streets of the old town.



It was crowded, and the weather was cool—around 19–20°C. We tried a local specialty: milk skin, thick, dried, then grilled with rose jam. Yeah... we won’t be having that again. The taste and texture of the milk skin... no thanks.



We saw a lot of wild mushroom hotpot too. It’s on our list for later. We also passed through the Jinma and Biji gates, where I played with reflections in puddles. I *love* doing that 🙂



At the end of the day, we headed to a temple advertised as open 24/7 on Amap. Of course, when we got there, it was closed. We’ll go back tomorrow. That was the first of many disappointments with Amap this trip—I hadn’t had that issue on previous visits.

We were exhausted after that sleepless flight. Night was falling, and we decided to grab a quick bite without much appetite. We shared a delicious vegetable fried rice for 12 yuan—we even left half of it. The portions are *huge*.

After a couple of small purchases, we headed back at 9 PM, wiped out, after walking 17 km between the airports and these first steps in Kunming. I expected to see quite a few Western travelers here, but we didn’t spot a single one. Instead, we met lots of curious Chinese people, many of them super friendly and helpful—almost *too* eager, like when they’d run to serve us as fast as possible. It’s a bit much, but it’s great to be back!

I’m reposting here a travel journal originally published on the Routard forum in 2022 during VoyageForum’s hiatus. Without altering its content, I’ll try to streamline it. The few comments on the political situation reflect my feelings at the time and don’t account for events since then! I’d rather avoid debates on the topic. The photos are nothing fancy—just illustrative.

The context: we’re coming out of COVID. We’re looking for a not-too-distant destination, and Jordan has been catching our eye for a while. After some thought, we wonder if we shouldn’t take advantage of the geography to hop over to Israel. After all, Jerusalem is less than 100 km from Amman. Plus, Transavia lets you combine both destinations.

To plan our trip (February 19 to March 4, 2022), we contacted three French-speaking agencies in Amman. Their itinerary proposals were pretty similar, but the prices varied significantly. Given the many positive reviews we read on travel forums and a very attractive rate compared to competitors, we quickly settled on Ahmad Ababseh’s agency. Still, deep down, we had a slight worry—so many glowing reviews seemed a bit over the top, but we took the chance.

During the preparation, which happened in a very short timeframe (less than 10 days), Ahmad didn’t provide detailed roadbooks, and we made do with brief email or phone exchanges. Few details were shared either. We discussed hotels, with Ahmad preferring the ones he knew. We picked our hotel for our arrival in Amman, but before agreeing, Ahmad insisted on inspecting the rooms.

For payment, Ahmad only asked for a 500 € deposit and trusted our word for the balance, which we paid upon arrival. He also committed in writing to refund the full deposit if our trip was canceled due to COVID.

Finally, for the Israeli part, Ahmad contacted an agency in Jerusalem to handle the logistics. He didn’t take a commission.

After exploring Dawson City, the final stop on our incredible road trip to the Yukon (see travel journal), it was time to head back to Quebec.

Instead of returning directly, we took advantage of this cross-country drive to make several stops in British Columbia and Alberta.

This part of the trip allowed us to discover some of the most beautiful attractions in Western Canada, from breathtaking landscapes to iconic natural sites that are must-sees in Canada.

Between majestic mountains, turquoise lakes, and jaw-dropping panoramas, every stop added a memorable touch to this already exceptional adventure.

A wonderful way to wrap up this journey across Canada while fully enjoying the richness and diversity of its vast landscapes.

In the upcoming posts, you’ll discover the highlights that marked our journey through Western Canada.

I invite you to watch the associated videos to fully experience the atmosphere, landscapes, and attractions we were lucky enough to explore.

To navigate to a specific post, here are the appropriate links:

Adventure on the Alaska Highway: Bald Eagles, Bison & Moose Adventure on the Alaska Highway: Bison, Caribou & Bears Yellowhead Highway (Alberta): Roche Miette, Jasper Lake & Emerald Pond Maligne Lake Road (Jasper) | Moose and Elk Exploring Mount Robson Provincial Park (BC) Must-Sees on the Icefields Parkway - Alberta David Thompson Highway11 (AB): A Stunning Scenic Route What to See in Yoho National Park (BC) Johnston Canyon: Hike to the Lower & Upper Falls Iconic Sites of East Kootenay, BC Lundbreck Falls - A Spectacular Waterfall in Southern Alberta Trails of Red Rock Canyon & Blakiston Falls - Waterton Waterton Village Under the Snow - A Unique Place Writing-on-Stone: A Park Famous for Its Hoodoos Red Rock Coulee Natural Area Alberta – A Supernatural Landscape Dinosaur Provincial Park Alberta - Mysterious Badlands Drumheller: Dinos, Hoodoos & Badlands Interpretive Trail Hike at Horsethief Canyon | Drumheller Badlands Red Deer: Public Art & Murals Downtown Calgary | Public Art, Skyline & Iconic Spots Medicine Hat | Public Art & Iconic Spots

Here we go with this second travel journal dedicated to the American West! It’s a must when you love it! 😊

We had left off in the charming town of Bisbee, which once thrived thanks to its copper mines. Today, mining is a thing of the past, and the town seems a bit sleepy.

Unfortunately, I didn’t dig deep enough on-site to answer all the questions my observations raised. Guess I’ll have to *dig* into the subject a bit more... no pun intended! 😊

Let’s hop back in the car and head a little further south to check out the esplanade that offers a view—if you can call it that—of the impressive open-pit mine. Then, it’s off to the Lowell neighborhood.

Preserved almost exactly as it was, this area must’ve been bustling in its heyday. The vintage cars are still around, storefronts and signs look like they’re straight out of another era, and the whole place has a pretty amazing vibe. You’d almost think you were on Route 66!

Here, we’re not just discovering an old neighborhood—it’s a little slice of American history. And, a detail that’s great for my physical health: the area isn’t too spread out. Lucky me! 😊

I won’t post too many photos here since I think I can turn them into a future photo exhibit. Between these and some shots from Route 66, I should have more than enough material! So, let’s keep a few under wraps... to preserve the surprise. 😊

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

December 13 - Day 1

"How about a Christmas market this year, huh? A little romantic weekend getaway... - Yes! That’d be cool! Strasbourg? Colmar? - Feels a bit déjà vu, doesn’t it? Plus, slim chance of snow there... And I’d love something a bit more exotic with a touch of originality..."

"Okay, Google, give me the list of the five most beautiful Christmas markets in Europe. - In fifth place, the Christmas market in Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania. - Save your breath! Lithuania, here we come!"



We wanted cold, and cold is exactly what we got the moment we set foot in this new, unknown land. As for landscapes, forests and lakes stretch as far as the eye can see across this vast plain, its vegetation scorched by the frost of a winter that’s clearly already well underway here.



Lakes, in fact, set the scene for our first visit to Trakai Castle, whose brick-red towers and walls rise proudly against the azure sky of our first day. Lakes, because this castle was built on an island and is only accessible on foot via a series of walkways spanning half-frozen lake offshoots. I couldn’t have picked a better spot to build my castle! Translation: We’re totally sold! Proof is we spend two hours hiking around the area, alternating between forests, reeds, and cozy houses tastefully decorated for Christmas.