We took this trip from September 12 to October 7, 2022. I didn’t post this travel journal earlier in Voyage Forum because the site wasn’t back up yet (and also because I was short on time).
Then, at the end of 2024, I made a promise to a friend: to publish my travel journal on VF. So here it is!
We took off from Paris in the late afternoon on September 12 and arrived in Tashkent around 7:15 AM on the 13th.
This trip was the result of long contemplation and preparation (it was originally planned for the year of the lockdown (2020) and was prepared with the help and advice of Nasrullo Jumanov from Turquoise Travel.
Stages and Itinerary
Stage 1: Tashkent - September 13 and 14
Stage 2: Ferghana Valley – September 15 to 17
Stage 3: Nukus and Moynaq - September 18 and 19
Stage 4: Mysterious Khiva - September 20 to 22
Stage 5: Holy Bukhara - September 23 to 26
Stage 6: Asraf - September 27 and 28
Stage 7: Mythical Samarkand - September 29 to October 2
Stage 8: Tersak (via Shakhrisabz and Urgut) – October 3 and 4
Stage 9: Samarkand – October 5 and 6
Stage 10: Tashkent/Istanbul/Paris – October 6 and 7
Stage 1: Tashkent
September 13
At the airport exit, we were greeted by the owner of our B&B (B&B Gulnara).
Today was all about recovery and our first steps in the capital. Our first currency exchange made us feel like sudden millionaires.
Our first stroll down the avenue leading to Chorsu Market introduced us to the fact that 80 to 90% of the cars here are white Chevrolets.
A walk under the arcades facing Chorsu: hardware stores, cabinetmakers, lute makers (one of them gave me a little concert/demo of a few string instruments).
As we entered the market, many vendors called out to us, including this florist who asked where we were from: ‘France? Ah! Macron! PSG!’ He then recited a list of players from the Parisian team as well as past (Platini, Zidane, etc.) and current (Giroud, Griezmann, Mbappé, etc.) French national team players. Since we’re more into rugby (we live near Toulouse), he knew more players than I did!
The market sprawls outside around the large circular, multi-story hall. We bought some grapes and bottles of freshly squeezed pomegranate juice for just a few sums.
This evening, we had a meet-up with Nasrullo. The reunion was very warm: we’d been exchanging messages for over two years, and I’d been ‘torturing’ him with changes to our itinerary and trip duration. We were finally eager to meet, and honestly, I wasn’t disappointed—in fact, it was the opposite. Nasrullo was very attentive throughout our trip and always made sure, even from a distance (and most often from a distance!), that everything went smoothly. His goal was for us to leave delighted with our trip and, why not, indirectly become ambassadors for this destination.
September 14
Breakfast with Nasrullo, then we set off with him by taxi to explore some of the capital’s sites.
We started by visiting the Khazrati Imam complex, which includes the mausoleum of Kaffal Shashi, the Barak Khan and Muyi Muborak madrasas, and the great Khazrati Imam Mosque with its immense prayer hall.
In the Muyi Muborak madrasa, now a museum, you can see the oldest Quran in the world. It was written by three religious scholars, including the secretary of the Prophet Muhammad, on large ‘pages’ made of antelope skin.
Next, we explored Soviet-era Tashkent, discovering its parks, canals, and squares: Independence Square with its storks and phoenixes, Amir Temur Square with its large statue and, in the background, the massive Soviet-era hotel that has become one of Tashkent’s iconic buildings. Nasrullo took us through Broadway Boulevard and along what he calls ‘Tashkent’s Montmartre’… Well, it’s far, very far from Montmartre (in every sense of the word!). Then we took the metro to Chorsu station. Rush hour is pretty much the same everywhere in the metro…
When we arrived at Chorsu, it was time to say goodbye. Nasrullo had to head back to Samarkand. Before leaving, he recommended some chaikhanas at the end of the galleries facing the market. We ate there for just a few euros (2 or 3 € for two people).
After eating, we headed back to our room to cool off (our B&B is about a 10-minute walk away).
Around 4 PM, we set off to visit the Kokeldash Madrasa, which is still active. On the way, we stopped to watch some bread vendors and take a few photos. We were hesitating about buying some for our evening picnic when a young woman approached us. In perfect English, she asked: ‘Are you looking for something? Do you want to buy bread? Which one? How much?’ She then spoke to one of the vendors and negotiated the price. ‘Do you want one?’ And she took two. She paid directly. I took out my wallet to reimburse her, but she refused. It’s on the house! Then the vendor asked where we were from. And off we went again: Macron, PSG, football players… We’ll have to get used to it. The young woman smiled at the questions and comments, barely gave us time to thank her, and left as quickly as she had approached us.
We continued our walk. Visited the madrasa. Then we crossed the boulevard to see the Tashkent Circus. I would’ve loved to go in and visit, but the ticket seller wouldn’t hear of it. We carried on around what should’ve been a park with old-fashioned rides and attractions. All we found was a construction site. Oh well!
Back at our hotel, a message from Nasrullo was waiting for us. He had managed to change our train ticket for the next day. Instead of taking the 6:00 AM train, we’d take the 8:00 AM one. And instead of second class, we’d be in first class! Great!
This evening, we had a picnic at one of the breakfast tables in the B&B courtyard. Under a shelter, the owner and his family were celebrating a birthday. The owner started by offering us some tea. Then they brought us some fruit (watermelon and melon). Finally, after the song, candles, and cake cutting, they brought us two generous slices of that beautiful birthday cake. Delicious!
Step 2: The Ferghana Valley (Part 1)
September 15
Early breakfast and taxi at 6:45 AM. 20 minutes later, we’re at the station. Ticket and baggage check before entering the premises.
The train is on time. Comfortably settled in a small 4-person compartment. Tea is served.
We get off at Kokand station around noon. Our driver, Mamour, is waiting for us as planned. He only speaks Uzbek or German (and we speak French, English, or Spanish). It seems like it’ll be tricky, but we’ll manage to understand and appreciate each other without any issues! And when necessary, we’ll call Nasrullo to act as an interpreter!
Actually, every evening during almost the entire trip, we’ll give a little recap of the day and the next day’s program with Nasrullo. This allows him to pass on the latest instructions to the driver when we decide to adjust or modify the initial itinerary (which will happen quite often).
After lunch, we visit the Khudayar Khan Palace (about 1 hour), then the Juma Mosque and the Dakhmai-Shahon Mausoleum.
Kokand, also known as the "City of Winds," has a history of over 2,000 years. It was one of the largest trade centers at the crossroads of the Silk Road caravan routes.
Next, we head to Rishtan, located 50 km from Kokand on the way to Marghilan, where we’ll be staying. Rishtan is the city of ceramists. For 800 years, the secrets of this craft have been passed down from father to son. Known for their blue and green traditions with a unique glaze (Ichkor), these ceramics are recognized worldwide. We visit a workshop where we see a potter at his wheel and young painters decorating bowls and other ceramics. No obligation to buy—free to wander around the workshop with no pressure to purchase. Pure visual delight!
Then we hit the road again toward Marghilan, arriving around 4:30 PM.
Check-in at the Diyor Hotel.
Meet-up with Mamour set for 9:00 AM the next day.
Tonight, we ask Nasrullo to remove the visit to the Yodgorlik silk factory from the program since entrance is now paid. Right next to the hotel, there’s an artisan center with a large weaving workshop in the basement, an exhibition and sales room on the ground floor, and a carpet-making workshop on the first floor.
Step 2 - Ferghana Valley (Part 2)
September 16
A stroll through the Marghilan Valley to Andijan and back via Ferghana.
On the way to Andijan, we stop to see a memorial (with a large statue) dedicated to the last Timurid ruler, Babur. Not particularly interesting.
Second stop, in Andijan, at Chaumol Park, also dedicated to Babur. He became ruler at 11 years old and retook Samarkand from the Shaybanids. But he was driven out seven years later by the same Shaybanids who had retreated to Bukhara. He fled the region and set out to conquer Kabul and Kandahar. After rebuilding his forces, he launched another campaign to retake Samarkand. He was driven out again a year later. He then returned to Kabul and set out to conquer India. He seized Delhi in 1526 and founded the Mughal dynasty, which ruled until the arrival of the British.
Babur died poisoned at the age of 47 in Agra. He was buried there, then his body was moved to Kabul. He never returned to Andijan. Legend has it that earth from his tomb in Kabul was brought to his symbolic grave in Andijan.
You can visit this tomb in a cave on the heights of the park, a true place of pilgrimage. There’s even an old chairlift to access it for those who don’t want to climb the stairs.
We continue our visit with the Jumi Mosque and Madrasa. Today is Friday! We arrive in front of the mosque just in time for Friday prayers (1:00 PM). There’s a huge crowd—the avenue in front of the mosque is a dual four-lane road. On each side, two lanes are blocked by parked cars. Their drivers and passengers are all at prayer inside or around the mosque.
We visit respectfully around the mosque, then after eating, we head toward Ferghana. We stop in front of the Congress (or Festival) Palace Park and then at Al-Ferghani Park. There’s a funfair in the park, and at the very back, a statue of the man.
We return to the hotel between 4:30 and 5:00 PM.
I take the opportunity to go for a walk in a small nearby park along the remains of a fortification. On the way back, near the craft center, I see a group of Russian visitors entering. I join them and go down with them into the weaving workshop. No one pays attention to me, so I move around freely and take lots of photos, being careful not to disturb anyone.
I don’t go up to the carpet-making workshop since we’re supposed to come back tomorrow morning.
September 17
This morning, as planned, we visit the craft center. This time, we're accompanied by a hostess.
Upstairs, it's impressive to see the meticulous work and patience required to make a carpet. Some, the largest ones, need four hands and over a year of work! In the shop, my wife can't resist buying a few silk scarves.
Then we head to the market for a quick stroll. On the way back, Mamour surprises us by inviting us to his home.
Along the way, we stop by a cotton field. Mamour shows us the different stages of cotton flower maturity. Then we stop at a bakery. The car smells amazing with the scent of warm bread!
We finally arrive at his place, in a small countryside village. He parks his car under a huge trellis covered with white and red grapes.
We're welcomed by the whole family: his wife, daughter, son, daughter-in-law, and three of his grandchildren. In the inner courtyard, also covered with grapes, we're invited to wash our hands, then after taking off our shoes, to enter a room. The table is set with different drinks, fruits (apples and grapes), candies, and cakes. We sit down with Mamour. Soon after, his wife brings fresh bread, sour cream, a kind of sesame/honey crumble, fried eggs, pomegranates, red and pink grapes, and of course, tea. We have to try a bit of everything! Mamour is very attentive, and we don’t want to offend him.
I take out my tablet and show him photos of our family, our house, the Landes forest, the Atlantic coast, and the Pyrenees. He loves the ones with both the ocean and the mountains, but especially those of the forest.
The conversation starts, despite the language barrier. He asks what vegetables are grown in France. Then he tells us his age and his wife’s (using his smartphone calculator) and asks ours. He talks about Putin and the war in Ukraine, giving a thumbs-down. He mentions our President, giving a thumbs-up. His respect is because Mr. Macron tried to talk with the Russians and their president to reason with them. We’ll understand later why this topic is so close to the hearts of Uzbeks.
On our side, we’re surprised by the amount of grapes he grows, and he explains that he sells them at the market.
After our mid-morning meal, Mamour takes us on a tour of his house and garden. We stop to watch his wife preparing homemade flatbreads. The wood-fired oven is lit. Mamour puts on a glove and shows us how the bread is stuck to its walls.
In his garden, he’s very proud to show us his rows of corn, leeks, cabbages, etc., and his pomegranate trees. He makes it clear that he doesn’t need to buy much in terms of fruits and vegetables because he produces so much.
This makes my wife laugh—me, proud of my two small vegetable patches! We’re not in the same league! She teases me a bit, wishing I had photos of them on my tablet.
We have a really pleasant time. Mamour invites us to rest before leaving, but we’re worried about disturbing him. So, it’s time to head to Tashkent to catch a domestic flight to Nukus, our next stop.
In the end, it’s not Mamour who drives us back to Tashkent, but his son. As we get into the car, Mamour gives us a bag filled with bunches of white and red grapes and pomegranates.
Two stops on the way back:
The first at Kamchik Pass, 2,200 meters high, for the view
The second at a kind of roadside bread market. Many vendors and bakeries with outdoor ovens. We stop in front of one of these bakeries. We’re greeted by two men in charge of baking the flatbreads, all smiles. They pose for a photo in front of their ovens and offer us some small ones. I walk a little further and see, in a sort of bakery room, about ten young women shaping the dough. I ask if I can go in to watch them work. Granted. Then I ask if I can take their photo. Laughter and smiles. Granted. They even seem delighted by my visit. The boldest one, amid her friends’ laughter, asks me to take a photo of her alone. I comply and show her the portrait on my camera screen. She’s satisfied and smiles. I thank everyone, say goodbye, and return to our car.
The drive to the airport feels long. The closer we get to Tashkent, the heavier the traffic becomes. We finally arrive at the airport with several hours to spare. Like at the train station, before entering the premises, we have to show our ticket and go through baggage control. Inside the terminal, we’re almost alone. Actually, there are very few domestic flights, and passengers only arrive at the last minute, just before boarding.
Full flight. On time. No issues.
Upon arrival, outside the airport, we’re met by a taxi driver who takes us to our hotel (Hotel Tashkent) without us having to ask.
Step 3: Nukus and Moynaq
September 18 - Nukus
Late breakfast, then we set off on foot toward the Savitsky Museum. The building seemed right next to our hotel. Once there, we found ourselves facing an abandoned-looking building. I must have gotten it wrong! We should have headed to the new museum instead!
MapsMe quickly puts us back on the right track. Luckily, it’s not far—about a 20-minute walk. This gives us a chance to explore a few streets in the city and pass by the Museum of Arts and Traditions of Karakalpakstan, which we’ll visit later.
There are so few people in front of the Fine Arts Museum, also known as the ‘Louvre of the Desert,’ that we think we’ve gotten the address wrong again. But no, this is the right place!
This stunning museum is almost deserted! A little confusion at the entrance: photos are allowed inside, but only with a smartphone. I have to put away my camera and leave it at the coat check. Too bad, because we’ll see some beautiful paintings by artists we don’t know—masters of the Soviet avant-garde from the 1920s/30s.
In one corner of a room, we spot a group of kids focused on reproducing a work of art. Actually, they’re recreating several works on each side of paper cubes, and their creations are displayed in a room across from one of the reproduced paintings.
We spend over two hours admiring the canvases (well, not all of them!), as well as the objects, jewelry, and traditional clothing on display in the rooms dedicated to Khorezm antiquities and Karakalpak craftsmanship.
At the exit, we stop by the museum shop! A few days later, we’ll regret not buying the museum book and only getting 2 or 3 magnets of the works we’d noticed.
Leaving the museum, we head down the main avenue toward the market. The Soviet style is very present here!
The market is huge. We’re looking for a spot to eat and stumble upon a pork butcher shop. Surprising! Then we find a little snack stand where they offer a whole selection of doughnuts (like hot dogs, but with doughnuts instead of bread) and savory pastries with veggies or meat. We make our choices and order some tea. We eat for about 1.7 € for two. Funny story: I left my cap on a chair, and one of the servers ran after us to return it. I think tonight we can treat ourselves to a nice little restaurant!
Afterward, we continue our walk toward the Museum of Arts and Traditions. Here, the museum is completely empty! No visitors at all! So much so that a guard follows us into every room. A bit overwhelming, honestly!
At the entrance, I ask if I can take photos. Still not with a camera. With my tablet? Yes? Okay. (I should’ve thought of that this morning! What an idiot I am!). Well, there’s not much to remember here. This museum isn’t a must-see, far from it!
At the exit, it’s really hot, and we decide to head back to the hotel for a cool break.
In the late afternoon, we decide to take a walk along the canal near the hotel toward an amusement park. We pass by a Ferris wheel under construction, but of the amusement park… all that’s left are a few ruined buildings.
At the end of the canal, on the other bank, is the Nukus Mosque. The walk is still pleasant, and it’s a popular spot for locals, young and old. We head back to the hotel in the late afternoon and debrief with Nasrullo: planning tomorrow’s day, which includes Moynaq, the Mizdakhan necropolis, and the 14th-century Mazloumkhan Sulu Mausoleum. We also agree on the meet-up time with our new driver, Javlon.
Today, we walked a lot and don’t feel like going out again to look for one of the restaurants Nasrullo recommended. So we opt for the hotel’s restaurant… Well, how can I put this? Not really the best choice! We’re the only customers. The menu is very limited. And the piece of boiled meat we’re served… found by chance in the middle of sheep fat. Oh well! We won’t make that mistake again, that’s for sure!
Step 3: Nukus and Moynaq
September 18 - Moynaq and the Mizdakhan Necropolis
Javlon will be our driver all the way to Samarkand. He understands French but has a bit of trouble speaking it. Enough, though, for us to chat from time to time. He’s not very talkative, but he’ll turn out to be a very cautious, considerate, and super kind driver.
We left this morning for Moynaq because I really wanted to see the ship graveyard. The road quickly becomes very rough and uncomfortable. Here, the asphalt is just a random patch between potholes. The 200 km we have to cover will feel *very* long. It’ll take us about 3 hours to reach our destination. This is Javlon’s first time here, and he’s just as saddened as we are by the sad sight of the ships stranded in the sand.
This once-thriving fishing port until the early 1960s declined with the disappearance of the Aral Sea. From that era, only a few stranded ships remain, a lighthouse on a cliff that once overlooked the sea (and now the desert), and a nostalgic museum that recalls this lost prosperity. A short film is shown, featuring almost miraculous fishing scenes and the bustling activity of the canneries.
The intensive cotton farming imposed by the USSR, requiring excessive irrigation, prevented the Amu Darya and Syr Darya rivers from feeding the Aral Sea, which quickly retreated from the coast until it nearly vanished. The shores are now 200 km from the port, and the sea continues to recede. Nasrullo will tell us a few days later that the yurt camp for tourists, which was on the shores of the sea just a year or two ago, is now 2 km from the water’s edge.
After wandering around the stranded ships, we had lunch in town. Then, we headed to the Mizdakhan Necropolis.
Another rough road for nearly 200 km.
Mizdakhan was once a large city on the banks of the Amu Darya. According to historians, it had over 12,000 suburbs. But it was destroyed by the Mongols, along with the Gaukala fortress.
An interesting visit in the late afternoon. A tourist-free site located 22 km from Nukus. The mausoleum is stunning!
Step 4: Mysterious Khiva
September 20 - Desert Fortresses
We start the day by visiting four desert fortresses located between Nukus and Khiva.
Admission is paid only for the first one.
The location of each fortress is strategic and offers a beautiful view of either the Amu Darya River, the desert, or both. The interiors are somewhat disappointing because, except for the third one where some remains of buildings, staircases, and alleys are still visible, the others look more like a vast desert plateau with a few shrubs adding a touch of green to the landscape.
At the last fortress, perched on a hill in the desert, Javlon wanted to do us a favor by driving a bit farther than the parking lot. The path was very sandy. His intention was good—he wanted to save us from walking too long in the sand before reaching the citadel entrance. We kept telling him: "It’s not necessary, we’ll walk, we’ll get stuck in the sand..." The Uzbek is stubborn! And what was bound to happen... The front of the car suddenly sank, the wheels started spinning in the air and spraying sand all around us. Reverse? Same thing! Well, not exactly—I think we sank in even deeper!
Attempting to free the two front wheels by hand: no effect! "Push, sir, while I try to reverse," Javlon says. And there I am, covered in sand! Another try, but this time Javlon pushes alongside me while my wife takes the wheel. Same result!
Javlon sends me to visit the fort. My wife is too hot and gives up on the climb. She eventually convinces Javlon to ask for help from the yurt camp guardian near the parking lot. She lends him a shovel and two planks.
When I came back down from the fort, Javlon was still digging sand out from under the car with the shovel. I help a bit by completely freeing one wheel and placing a plank under the other. Javlon gets behind the wheel, puts it in reverse... and since we’re back and I’m writing this travel journal, it means we managed to get unstuck!
Once cleaned up and refreshed, we hit the road again for Khiva.
We check into our hotel in the old town (Hotel Zukhro), where Javlon drops us off. Complimentary tea on the terrace with a view of the rooftops and a few monuments. Gorgeous!
We go for a walk and at the intersection of two streets, we run into Javlon, who recommends his friend’s restaurant. And indeed, it’s a great spot with reasonable prices where we’ll have almost all our meals.
Step 4: Mysterious Khiva
September 21 - Day with a French-speaking guide
According to legend, Khiva was founded by Shem, the son of Noah. It’s the last of the mythical Silk Road cities, alongside Bukhara and Samarkand. It’s the smallest of the three but also one of the oldest, with houses dating back to the 11th century.
The city is divided into two parts: Itchan Kala (inner city) and Dishan Kala (outer city).
This morning, we met up with our French-speaking guide at 9 a.m.
The guided tour was really interesting, and we discovered, among other things: the Muhammad Aminkhan madrasa and its unfinished minaret, Kalta Minor; the mausoleum of Sayyide Alaoudin; the Juma Mosque with its forest of 218 intricately carved and all-different pillars. It’s said to have served as a model for the one in Córdoba. We also visited the mausoleum of Pakhlavan Mahmud and the Islam Khodja madrasa. We climbed the city walls, which gave us a beautiful view of the city. We saw the small prison and learned how condemned prisoners were executed in Registan Square (Sand Square: sand was thrown on the square after executions to absorb the blood). The cruelty of the executions depended on the severity of the crime, but death was always the outcome: buried alive headfirst, impaled, stoned, beaten to death with a whip made of wide leather straps studded with nails and soaked in salt for a long time beforehand, or thrown from the tallest minaret. A special fate was reserved for unfaithful women: they were put in a sack filled with rabid cats and snakes, then beaten to death through the closed sack.
All executions were public.
We also, of course, visited the Tash Hauli Palace and its harem. In this palace, at the exit of the deliberation (and judgment) hall, there were two doors: one for the condemned, leading directly to prison, and one for the innocent, which opened to freedom. And if you were condemned, there was no half-measure—it was death.
In the courtyard of the deliberation hall, as well as in the throne room, there’s a kind of circular platform. In winter, this was where the Khan’s yurt was set up. It was simply too difficult to heat the palace halls, so the Khan held deliberations or received guests in his yurt.
A little farther on, we entered the harem courtyard, completely isolated from the outside world. There, we saw the Khan’s chamber with a bed fit for Louis XIV at Versailles, one of the chambers of his four official wives, and one of the concubines’ chambers. There was a secret corridor between the Khan’s chamber and those of his four wives so that none of them would know with whom the Khan had chosen to spend the night.
Throughout the palace, we could admire the magnificent blue ceramic decorations, as well as symbols of Zoroastrianism (the religion that preceded Islam).
Fun fact about the four wives: since they could be repudiated at any moment and immediately expelled from the harem in whatever they were wearing at the time, each wife adorned herself with all her jewelry every morning. This could weigh up to 50 kg!
Concubines could enter the harem very young (recruiters spotted them in villages or towns and could "buy" them from their parents). They learned to dance, sing, and make themselves beautiful, and when the harem’s matchmakers deemed them ready, they could be offered to the Khan for the night. Some, in their entire lives, would never "meet" the Khan.
Step 4: Mysterious Khiva
September 22 - A Free Day
No guide today.
This morning, we set off to visit the Nourallah Bey Palace outside the city, built about ten years before the Russian Revolution by Khan Ferouz. The palace is a mix of Uzbek tradition, modernism, and luxury imported from Saint Petersburg.
This visit isn’t a must-do, but it gives you a sense of the luxury surrounding the khan. Large, rather empty rooms, pretty tiled fireplaces, an octagonal hall with mirrors in every corner that creates a striking sense of grandeur—especially when you stand right in the middle.
The Khan was exiled by the Bolsheviks to forced labor camps in Siberia, where he died.
After leaving the palace, I decided to walk to the summer palace (Kibla Tobazag), about 2 km from the old town. As I approached, I got a little worried because I didn’t see any activity—no tourists, no taxis, no buses, no vendors. We entered the grounds of a hotel that seemed empty. A sign in the gardens pointed to the palace, about a hundred meters away. I got closer and saw workers restoring the sidewalks. I also spotted a "main" entrance—a vine-lined path we’d passed earlier, thinking it was the entrance to a farm.
In the end, we entered through the hotel’s access and exited through the vineyards.
We then discovered that the palace was under restoration—workers were everywhere. We saw a painter high up on scaffolding, restoring the ceilings of the iwan near the palace entrance. We could enter the rooms (one had a floor with holes in places, but the chandeliers were in place, and the ceilings had beautiful paintings). In the courtyards, intricately carved doors were in place and open, while others leaned against the walls. We kept as quiet as possible to avoid disturbing anyone, and as a result, no one asked us anything. In the main courtyard, we shared the space with three sheep grazing on wild grass. The painter let me take a few photos of him and his meticulous work. It wasn’t until we were leaving that we ran into someone (judging by their clothes, we figured they weren’t a worker) who asked what we were doing there. We explained that we’d come to visit without knowing it was under restoration. No problem—we’d already finished our surprising visit and were on our way out anyway.
By this point, it was around 1 p.m., and it was hot. My wife had no desire to walk back, but there was no activity, no traffic, and therefore no taxis in sight.
As we walked back up the small street leading to the palace park entrance, I spotted a man leaving his house, about to get into a minivan (a Chevrolet Damas de Luxe, the standard shared taxi in Uzbekistan). I quickly approached him and asked if he could take us to one of the gates of the old city, showing him the map. Without hesitation, he made it clear that before anything else, he wanted to invite us to eat. We were worried about imposing or taking advantage, so I explained that we just wanted to get back to the city while thanking him warmly and with a big smile. He quickly cleaned the back seats of his van and drove us to our destination. He burst out laughing at a bump in the road and dropped us off inside the old city. I took out my wallet to pay him for the ride, but he pushed my hand away and gave me a vigorous hug with a big smile, clearly happy to have helped us. Then he drove off, waving at us with a smile.
Lunch, a cool break, and some rest in our room.
In the late afternoon, I decided to walk around the outside of the city to see the walls at sunset and enjoy the beautiful late-day colors. Orange on ochre earth! Stunning! I was all alone! Magical!
In some places, graves are placed on the walls. These belong to city residents who died outside the walls. To prevent epidemics, families weren’t allowed to bury them inside, so they buried them as close as possible—on the walls.
Back in the old city, I saw the streets empty of tourists, with only a few shopkeepers in front of their stores and children playing in the streets. Beautiful light too!
Our last evening in Khiva. We took the opportunity to take our final night photos and ended up admiring the city from the rooftop terrace of our hotel.
Step 5: Holy Bukhara
September 23 - From Khiva to Bukhara
Back to September 22 and night photos of mysterious Khiva
This morning we meet up with Javlon again.
A long drive, mostly on roads in poor or even very poor condition, at least until we enter the desert.
We cross an agricultural region dominated by cotton and corn fields.
The desert crossing is marked by the bridge over the Amu Darya. This single-lane bridge is shared by all means of transport: cars, buses, trucks, motorcycles (rare), and even trains. Traffic alternates. Mandatory stop. To let vehicles coming from the opposite direction pass, but also to let the train go by. Here, the rails run right down the middle of the road.
After the bridge, we enter the desert. The road here is in pretty good shape. We stop to fill up on gas: as always, we have to get out of the car when entering the station. For safety reasons, all passengers must exit their vehicles. The driver parks next to the "gas pump" and an employee fills up the tank. Once the gas is paid for, the driver can get back in the vehicle and pick up passengers where he dropped them off.
Leaving the desert, we encounter construction everywhere: highway extensions or bridges under construction. The road open to traffic is in very poor condition. Javlon tells us all this work has been going on for over two years!
After about a 5.5-hour drive, we reach our destination, and Javlon parks in front of the "L’Oasis d’Hélène" hotel in Bukhara, where he can reunite with his wife, Lola, the hotel manager, and their son.
We’re lucky to be welcomed by Hélène and her cousin Suzanne. Hélène was the first Frenchwoman to invest in hospitality in Uzbekistan.
We take advantage of this warm welcome to get to know each other and discover that Hélène had lived in Toulouse (just 20 km from our place). What a small world!
We get some tips (sightseeing and good local restaurant recommendations), leave Javlon to his family reunion, and head off for lunch despite the late hour at a small restaurant near the money-changers’ dome.
First steps in the city, and we’re already charmed!
Step 5: Holy Bukhara
September 24 - Bukhara with and without a guide
This morning, we’ve got a guided tour of the main sites in the old city on the agenda.
But we start the day with one of the best breakfasts ever! French toast, crepes, fresh homemade fruit juice, homemade jams (orange/pumpkin/carrot and rose jam: a delight!), homemade yogurt, seasonal fruits, several savory dishes, eggs... We can’t take any more!
Bukhara was once called the "Dome of Islam" or the "Pillar of Islam." It was said to be the most secretive of the caravan cities and the most interesting city in the world!
Knowing all this, we were really excited to discover the different sites in the old city.
We start the day at the Ismail Samani Mausoleum, a magnificent brick cube. It’s the second oldest mausoleum in the Muslim world. We walk through Samani Park and then the market. We taste *alva*, an Uzbek sweet, a kind of nougat made with sesame, pistachio, and almonds that reminds us of sweetened condensed milk.
Next, we visit the Ark of Bukhara (Aka), the Emir’s residence, other madrasas and mosques around Registan Square, and the trading domes where artisans and merchants are set up. We discover the work of knife makers there. We also climb the iron tower (their Eiffel Tower) for a panoramic view of the city and its signposts (Paris, Rome, etc.) that make us look toward the horizon. The city is full of splendors. It’s impossible to list them all: Maghoki Attari Mosque, Ulugbek and Abdulazizkhan Madrasas, the Poi Kalon complex with its minaret from which condemned prisoners were thrown alive. Registan Square is very lively, and many people are working to transform it into a huge "dojo." Unfortunately, our young guide doesn’t know what’s being prepared. We’ll come back to see it at the end of the day!
We then head toward the Lyab-i Hauz complex. Between the money-changers’ dome and the basin, we stop at Iskander Khakimov’s puppet shop and workshop. He explains the manufacturing process and gives us a little musical demonstration.
In the early afternoon, we say goodbye to our guide. After a short rest (and to let the outside temperature drop), we stroll through the Jewish quarter and wander its narrow streets. Here, no tourists—so much so that a woman comes out of her house to ask if we’re lost and, if needed, to point us in the right direction.
At the corner of a street, we discover a fountain and a tomb topped with a wooden post from which what looks like horsehair is hanging. We learn that it’s a horse’s mane. Horsehair doesn’t rot, and its presence means a holy man is buried here (in the Sufi tradition). Further on, we’re drawn by the smell of fresh bread coming from a bakery at the intersection of several streets. We also find the old synagogue while heading back to the old city and its central basin. We decide to sit on a bench next to the statue of Nasreddin Khodja on his donkey, right in front of the Nadir Divanbeg Madrasa.
Nasreddin Khodja was a dervish, both wise, cunning, and lazy. He traveled all over Asia. One day, he witnessed the Emir falling into the basin. The Emir, who couldn’t swim and was afraid of drowning, shouted that whoever saved him would receive half his fortune. Being very stingy, he quickly realized what he’d promised and started pushing away anyone who tried to help him reach the edge. Seeing this, the clever dervish took out a small copper coin and promised the Emir that if he got out of the basin, the coin would be his. With great effort, the Emir managed to climb out to get the coin. When he took it, Nasreddin Khodja reminded him of his promise to share his fortune, and the Emir had to comply. The dervish didn’t keep the fortune for himself but distributed it to the neediest people in Bukhara.
Today, there’s a constant stream of people in front of his statue (you can still see the copper coin between his fingers), where Uzbeks come to pose and also pet the donkey’s ears.
But in front of the madrasa, in the park and around the basin, there’s also a parade of newlyweds. We amused ourselves by commenting on what we saw until a man sitting next to us on the bench joined our conversation. In perfect French, he told us how much he enjoyed speaking French with us—he used to be a driver for a travel agency. He explained the weddings and their exorbitant cost. So much so that imams are calling on Uzbek families to be more moderate because they go deeply into debt to throw a beautiful party for the newlyweds and display beautiful clothes for the guests. To give us an idea, he said it’s common to invite 400, 500, or even more people to a wedding, and it costs $6,000 to $9,000!
At nightfall, we went to see the sports competition on Registan Square. A lot of people and a passionate crowd! The entrance is controlled, but they let us through. So we ended up in the middle of the teams of fighters cheering on their teammates on the tatami mats.
The next day, our guide told us he was there too and that we’d attended an Uzbek wrestling competition.
Step 5: Holy Bukhara
September 25 - Bukhara Beyond the Walls
Lola’s breakfast is still as hearty and delicious as ever!
This morning, guided by Javlon, we’re visiting the small Avicenna (Ibn Sina) museum, the father of modern medicine, in the village of Afshana. It’s an interesting visit but not a must-see.
Back at the hotel, we take another stroll through the Jewish quarter and along the outer edge of the old city. I discover a small mausoleum and am invited inside. Here, no tourists—just Uzbeks coming to pray.
This afternoon, we’ll continue our visits with a guide to the outer sites. But first, we’re having lunch at one of the restaurants by the Samani Park basin.
We start by heading to the village of Kasri Orifon, where we visit the Bakhaouddin Naqshbandiy complex, one of the most important pilgrimage sites for Muslims. Bahahouddin Naqshbandi was a master of the Naqshbandi tariqa, one of the four Sufi brotherhoods. This mausoleum, almost empty of tourists, is also called the 'Mecca of Central Asia.'
Next, we visit the Palace of the Moon and Stars, Sitorai-Mokhi-Khossa, the summer residence of Bukhara’s last emirs (early 20th century). The last emir managed to negotiate his departure with the Russian revolutionaries and left with all the gold he could carry. A long caravan formed toward Afghanistan, allowing him and his family to escape exile and forced labor (unlike the young Khan of Khiva).
This afternoon, there aren’t many people at the palace. Our guide tells us we’re lucky—last time he was here in the morning, the visit was unbearable because of the crowds! Does that mean this visit is best saved for the afternoon?
Inside, the White Hall—a Bukharan version of the Hall of Mirrors—is absolutely stunning. The banquet hall had movable decorations, one for each season. Unfortunately, only autumn remains, the season when the Russian Revolution arrived here. The panels for the other three seasons disappeared, along with the know-how to change them. This room is magnificent. The tea salon, with its glass walls overlooking the gardens and now filled with precious vases, is also a true marvel. The garden’s trees are species the emir imported to impress his visitors. At the far end of the park, you’ll find the harem and a pool. The emir had a habit of watching his concubines bathe from a terrace in the harem. It’s said he’d toss an apple to the one he’d chosen for the night.
There’d be so many more anecdotes to share, but this travel journal would get way too long! So I’ll just invite you to either contact me or, even better, go see it all for yourself!
In the late afternoon, we wrap up our walk at the Chor Minor necropolis. We’re really lucky to be here at this time—we’re the only visitors, and the colors at sunset are breathtaking! Direct descendants of the Prophet Muhammad are buried here. The place is so peaceful, with an atmosphere somewhere between mystery and romance.
Wow, this travel journal is packed with anecdotes alongside the photos and explanations of the sites you visited. Uzbekistan is one of my best travel memories. There’s so much to see—the Uzbeks are incredibly welcoming, and the food is delicious. We did a private tour with a driver and a guide who spoke perfect French, arranged directly with a local agency, even though we usually try to manage on our own as much as possible. It feels like every traveler who’s been to Uzbekistan is thrilled with their trip.
For photographers, it’s a goldmine because Uzbeks are often happy to have their picture taken. You don’t just come back with photos of stunning buildings and their fascinating designs...
Step 5: Holy Bukhara
September 26 - Bukhara, continued and concluded
This morning, we linger over breakfast and take the chance to chat with Hélène and Suzanne.
Today, I’ve planned to visit the house of Fayzullah Khodjaev, the son of a wealthy merchant and former president of the People’s Republic of Turkestan (19th century).
Hélène shows us the way through the Jewish quarter’s alleyways and even decides to walk part of the way with us. ‘Maps Me, my friend,’ will handle the rest!
Once there, no tourists in sight! Just two young couples in the middle of a photo shoot in traditional outfits.
The iwan is beautifully decorated. The murals are absolutely stunning! It’s a lovely visit made even nicer by the presence of these two couples, who pose and smile at us. Their photographers let us take all the photos we want (as long as we don’t get in their way or slow them down). We even exchange a few jokes, and one of them gives us some photography tips.
A great discovery a little off the beaten path in Bukhara but not actually that far (about a 20-minute walk from the Money Changers’ Dome).
On our way back to the hotel, Javlon reminds us that he’s keeping his promise—tonight, we’re invited to taste his red rice plov.
This afternoon, we’re meeting a young artist we met at the hotel who paints miniatures. Our meet-up is at the Kukeldash Madrasa, where he’s set up his ‘workshop.’ We find him at the entrance, and he immediately takes us to his workspace. He gives us a demonstration on a miniature he’s working on. He explains (in English) how he works, what comes from his imagination (most often, trees of life) and what’s the result of his research at the library (depictions of caravans on the Silk Road).
It’s our last day in Bukhara, so we take the opportunity to revisit the sites and shopping galleries in the late afternoon. Once again, the colors are gorgeous, and some streets seem to have suddenly emptied of tourists! Perfect!
Tonight at the hotel, it’s a bittersweet celebration: Hélène and Suzanne are flying back to France tomorrow morning. They’ve invited some friends, and we’re all sharing a meal together. It feels like we’ve known each other forever! A strange yet wonderful feeling that makes us want to come back and see them (Hélène and Suzanne) again in France!
The evening is truly lovely, even if we can sometimes detect a hint of nostalgia and sadness in the eyes of our hosts, Lola, and their friends.
Step 6: Asraf
September 27 - On the way to Asraf
Breakfast was still just as delicious!
I think we could’ve easily stayed a few more days here—we were so comfortable!
Javlon had a hard time leaving his family, so we didn’t hit the road until around 10:00 AM.
On the way to Nurata, we stopped to visit an old cistern. Javlon took the chance to grab a coffee and buy an energy drink. Last night’s festivities seem to have left their mark (a whole group of guides and drivers had joined us, and the vodka was definitely flowing!).
Javlon, his excellent plov with red rice in the works, and his friends
Our second stop was Nurata, where we wandered around the Chashma architectural complex, dominated by the ruins of a defensive fortress on a hill, attributed to Alexander the Great. The discovery of the spring is credited to Muhammad’s son-in-law, Hazrat Ali.
We had lunch in Nurata before heading to the Tajik village of Asraf. To get there, we crossed a rolling steppe on one side and a completely flat one on the other, with the shimmering blue reflections of Lake Aydarkul in the distance.
At the end of the road—and then the dirt track—we were warmly welcomed by the entire family at the guesthouse. I gave them my gift: pencils, pens, and, most importantly, several boxes of cookies bought from a bakery not far from our town, Martres-Tolosane. The gifts seemed to be a hit—I quickly saw kids running around with either a cookie or a pen in their hands.
We were offered a welcome tea with Uzbek cookies, candies, and dried white mulberries.
We settled in and explored the place, wandering around the property with its cow and calf, sheep, chickens, and a dog.
Tonight, we ate under the chestnut trees with a group of Austrians and a Quebec family on a round-the-world trip. It was a bit chilly, but the owner came by at the start of the meal to offer us a round of vodka. One glass, two glasses… that was enough for me! Toward the end of the meal, the Austrians’ guide stepped away for a few minutes and came back with a bottle of ‘Uzbek Cognac.’ With a laugh, he told us that in Uzbekistan, they call it Cognac, but for export, they label it Brandy… I didn’t dare try it—vodka was still coating my stomach!
We had a fantastic evening, laughing a lot with everyone at our table!
Step 6: Asraf
28 September – Walk and cooking class
A hearty breakfast in one of the guesthouse’s rooms.
Before heading out for a walk, I watch the preparation of homemade bread: making the flatbreads and the wood-fired oven, then seeing how these flatbreads are attached to the oven walls.
We then set off for a walk around the village with one of the family’s men. The village, home to about 26 families, is very spread out. We take around 2h30 to circle it.
Back at the guesthouse, Javlon tells us they’re expecting a group of Swiss travelers and that he’ll help drive them here since their bus obviously can’t make it down the track.
For lunch, we’re seated with Javlon at a small table away from the group. Two young English women and their guide have also arrived. I’m a bit disappointed because, even though the accommodation is “typical” and the owners are very kind, I still feel like I’m in the middle of a tourist attraction. I confide in Javlon, who doesn’t comment on my impression.
We strike up a conversation with a woman from the Swiss group, whom we’ll run into several times over the next few days.
In the afternoon, I go for a walk alone in the mountains. Kids greet me as I pass: Hello! In some spots, I catch glimpses of the lake shimmering in the distance. Then, at the end of the valley, I meet up with the two English women, their guide, and the man who had accompanied us that morning. I join them, and we all head back to the guesthouse together. As soon as I arrive, the owner comes to get me and “recruits” me (and my wife) to help prepare the plov for tonight.
So, we’re on carrot and onion chopping duty, rather uncomfortably perched on the tapchan. After a while, one of the English women joins us, and given how awkward our setup is, we laugh a lot and nickname our activity ‘Carrot yoga.’
I then watch the plov being prepared: in a large pot, pieces of beef cook in a bit of oil. Then, sliced onions are added, followed by carrots cut into sticks. While everything simmers, the rice is washed and soaked in salted water. It’s then added and mixed into the pot. Cooking the plov over a wood fire takes a total of 2h30 to 3 hours.
Javlon, an expert on this national dish, tells me with a hint of criticism that plov made with mutton should only use red rice (rice that’s only found in the Ferghana Valley). Here, the cooking seems too quick to him.
Tonight, we eat indoors with the two English women, leaving the Swiss group outside. The plov turns out to be pretty good, and we congratulate ourselves—along with the English woman—on helping prepare it. After the meal, the owner comes to get us because tonight he’s organized a small Tajik show: traditional music and dances. Honestly, we’re not really into it. And when we see some Swiss women getting up to join the young Tajik dancers, we slip away and head back to our room.
Thanks! I hope to finish publishing the full travel journal before the end of the week!
And I totally agree with you about the hospitality in this country and how satisfied all travelers who’ve been lucky enough to go there are.
We used to travel solo too (see my journal about our 2024 trip to Colombia that I just published). But I wanted to make an exception for Uzbekistan, and I’ve never regretted it.
Finally, I’m planning to return to Central Asia in 2026.
Step 7: Legendary Samarkand
September 29 - From Asraf to Samarkand
This morning, Javlon treated us to a wonderful surprise.
At the end of the track connecting the village to the main road, instead of turning right toward Samarkand, we turned left. A few kilometers later, we took a small road that wound into the mountains and eventually turned into a rocky trail. At the end, Javlon told us we’d have to walk a little and that we’d see a pine tree. The walk along a stream was very pleasant. We passed a shepherd with his flock of sheep. After 20 to 30 minutes, we arrived in a small wood. At the back of this grove, we discovered a majestic tree—Javlon’s old pine! After checking with our photos, it turned out to be a juniper that the village elders estimate is about 1,000 years old.
What a great surprise! Thanks, Javlon!
We then continued on to Samarkand. Javlon dropped us off at our hotel (Jahongir), made sure we were settled in, and told us he had to leave—he was heading back to Bukhara.
After he left, we had lunch at a small local restaurant near the hotel and couldn’t resist immediately visiting the madrasas and the mosque on Registan Square.
This place is stunning! The visual feast is total—my camera’s memory card is overheating! Oh well!
Inside, we ran into the Swiss group again. The woman we’d chatted with in Asraf told us their 10-day organized tour was too rushed. She was envious when I mentioned we’d be spending 25 or 26 days here.
It’s impossible to describe what we’re seeing and feeling—the site is just that beautiful! The only downside is the vendors everywhere inside the madrasas. Fortunately, none are pushy or insistent. They offer their goods but don’t press if you decline (always with a smile!).
We spent several hours there without realizing how much time had passed. By the time we left, it was already late afternoon!
Back to the hotel (a maximum 10-minute walk away). It’s starting to get chilly in the evenings! We ate at another small local restaurant between the hotel and Registan Square. Each meal (lunch and dinner) at both places cost us no more than 5 € for two.
Tonight, I decided to go back to Registan Square to take night photos. And honestly, you *have* to do it (before or after the tourist show), because the lighting makes the entire square and its domes look even more breathtaking.
Step 7: Legendary Samarkand
September 30 - Solo in Samarkand
This morning, after an excellent and hearty breakfast, we head to the 14th/15th-century Bibi Khanum Mausoleum and Mosque.
In front of the mosque, a young couple in traditional attire is having a photo shoot. Hey, we’ve seen this somewhere before!
We savor each of these sites and visit them at "our own pace." The mausoleum is empty of visitors. I take advantage of this to snap some photos of its vault in a rather unacademic position.
We continue our stroll to the Samarkand market, just nearby. There, we run into some of the Swiss group members one last time—the lady comes over to chat and once again laments how short her trip was.
After a few purchases, we extend our walk to the mausoleum of the first Uzbek President. Beautiful view of the Bibi Khanum Mosque.
On the way back, between the mosque and Registan Square, we stop at a lovely artisan space (an old caravanserai?) where we discover some great shops.
In the early afternoon, we resume our visits and head toward the Gur Emir Mausoleum (or Tamerlane’s Mausoleum) via small alleys. Along the way, a young woman stops us—she wants to know where we’re from, our names, our jobs, our ages, etc. She tells us she’s an English teacher and is honored we took the time to answer her questions. Right after, she invites us to her home but understands we want to visit the mausoleum first. So, she points out her house door and suggests we stop by on our way back.
We visit this stunning mausoleum and then walk a bit further down a large avenue. At the intersection, we take a photo at the foot of the immense Tamerlane statue.
Unfortunately, on the way back, we can’t find the young woman’s house door. Missed opportunity! 😕
Step 7: Legendary Samarkand
October 1st - Samarkand from dawn till dusk
This morning, I decided to wake up really early to see Registan Square without any crowds.
I arrive around 6:00 AM, and sure enough, I’m alone! Such a magical moment!
Little by little, I watch this part of the city wake up gently: joggers passing by the square, taking out their phones to snap a quick photo before moving on, city cleaning staff with brooms in hand... I leave the esplanade and start my walk around the outside of the madrasas (though I still sneak to the side of the square, inside, very discreetly to take a few photos). In the back of the park, I hear music. I get closer and discover a group of women of all ages doing aerobics to music. No photos. I watch discreetly and move away. Nearby, another group of women is singing. Further on, I come across an elderly man walking while doing stretching exercises and arm circles. Even further, I see people walking and chatting quietly.
After completing the full loop, I stop again on the esplanade overlooking the square. Still empty. A group of Uzbeks (all men) approaches and lines up in front of the square. One of them steps out to take a photo of his friends. I walk over and offer to take the photo for him so he can be in it. He happily accepts. I take the opportunity to ask if I can take a photo of them with my camera. Big smiles from the whole group! They immediately stand almost at attention. A great memory! Thanks, smiles, and everyone goes their own way!
I return to the hotel a little over 2 hours later, enchanted and even amazed by this morning walk.
Nasrullo joins us for breakfast because today he’s the one who’ll show us his city.
We start with the reconstructed artisan village and the silk paper factory. We learn about its manufacturing process using mulberry bark (hence the name "silk paper").
From the artisan village, we head (by car) to the stunning Shah-i-Zinda necropolis.
Unlike almost all our visits so far on this trip, there are a lot of people here. But it’s so beautiful!
We take the "Stairway to Paradise." Pilgrims count its 40 steps as they climb. It’s a collection of mausoleums, each more beautiful than the last. The one for Shadi Mulk Aka, next to Emir Zade’s (the emir’s son), was built for Tamerlane’s niece, who was very dear to him. He had inscribed, *‘This is a tomb where a precious pearl was lost.’* It’s the oldest mausoleum in the complex, and its interior is one of the most beautiful we’ve seen: the original ceramics are stunning.
This visit is without a doubt one of the must-sees in Samarkand!
I don’t know where to look (inside, outside) it’s all so breathtaking! And I’m seized by an uncontrollable (or almost) photo frenzy. Meanwhile, Nasrullo starts getting impatient because he has a surprise for us. He wants to take us to a restaurant in a Samarkand neighborhood famous among locals for its plov. The deadline to get there is 1:00 PM... We make it just in time! And their reputation is well-deserved: we feasted! Without a doubt, along with the one Javlon made in Bukhara, it’s one of the two best we had on this trip! Thanks to Nasrullo for introducing us to and inviting us to this amazing spot (I didn’t write it down, but if you’re interested, I can always ask him for it!).
After this hearty and delicious lunch, we head to the Afrasiab Museum. Located on the hill above the Shah-i-Zinda necropolis, it’s best known for the 7th-century "Ambassadors’ Fresco." It depicts, on one wall, the Sogdian king Varkhuman receiving ambassadors from neighboring countries. On other walls, we see the monarch hunting and his wife on a boat. Another fresco illustrates the city of Samarkand celebrating Nowruz.
After the visit, we drive down the hill to the Mausoleum of Daniel. Its uniqueness lies in the fact that this prophet is shared by the three monotheistic religions: Muslim, Christian, and Jewish. His tomb has become a pilgrimage site. Except it seems Daniel never actually came to Uzbekistan!... And like all holy sites, there’s a so-called sacred spring where pilgrims come, often with their families, to drink and/or fill bottles.
We end our guided day at the Ulugh Beg Observatory Museum. This monarch was a great scholar, both a poet and mathematician. Passionate about astronomy, he built a huge observatory that housed the largest sextant in the world. He published an astronomical catalog that remained a reference until the early 20th century, so accurate were his discoveries (over a thousand stars) and measurements (error rate of less than 1°). Unfortunately, his son, manipulated by religious extremists, had him assassinated and destroyed the observatory, of which only an 11-meter underground arc of the sextant remains today.
Back at our hotel in the mid-afternoon, I decide to explore the ‘Russian’ part of Samarkand. That’s how I find and visit, almost side by side, the Orthodox, Christian, and Armenian churches. I was able to go inside all three: services were being held in the first two, and the guardian of the third opened it just for me. So happy to have a visitor, he kept explaining things to me—though I understood nothing since he was speaking in Uzbek... Too bad!
A little further on, I passed by the synagogue, which was closed.
On my way back to the hotel, I walked along other avenues, crossed parks, and finally arrived, at nightfall, from the back of Registan Square. And once again, I couldn’t resist! Photos!
Note: Too many photos. Impossible to choose just 10 (site limit per post). So I’ll share two photo-only posts to complete the overview of this magnificent day.
Step 7: Legendary Samarkand
October 2nd - Off-the-beaten-path Samarkand (Part 1/2)
Today, Nasrullo takes us to visit a few sites away from the tourist trails. We start with a mosque and a mausoleum that haven’t been restored yet. This gives us a better idea of the restoration work done on all the other sites. Just for that, along with his comments, this visit is really interesting.
Then we head to another very peaceful site: a basin, very old plane trees (250 to 300 years old), a small minaret, a mosque, a saint’s tomb, and an imam who prays at the request of people and/or families who come here to pay their respects.
Anecdote under the plane trees: we watch a crow holding a walnut in its beak. In mid-flight, it drops it onto the ground. The shell breaks on impact. The crow lands and comes to eat the contents.
Nasrullo wonders about the presence of jujube trees, imported from Saudi Arabia, in all the Sufi holy places. Sure, the fruit has benefits, especially against cholesterol. But that’s certainly not the ‘real reason.’
Here’s one possible explanation, taken from verse 28 of Surah Al-Waqi’a No. 56, the jujube trees of paradise:
According to Salim Ibn Amir: The companions of the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) used to say: Allah has indeed benefited us through the Bedouins and their questions.
One day, a Bedouin came and said: O Messenger of Allah! Allah mentioned that there is a tree in paradise that can harm, and I didn’t think there was a tree in paradise that could harm its owner.
The Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) said: « Which tree is that? ».
The Bedouin said: The jujube tree, it certainly has thorns that harm. The Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) said: « Didn’t Allah say: ‘thornless jujube trees’? Allah removed its thorns and put a fruit in place of each thorn.
So this tree has fruits, and each fruit splits into 72 different kinds of food, none of which resemble one another. »
(Reported by Ibn Abi Dunya and authenticated by Sheikh Albani in Sahih Targhib No. 3742)
Right next door is a madrasa that’s been fully restored but is empty of both visitors and vendors. The artisans have indeed left this site, which is too far from the center of Samarkand to attract mass tourism and organized tour buses. So we take advantage of it! Just imagine! A completely restored madrasa all to ourselves! Our guide, the site guardian (entry is still paid, though!), my wife, and me… and a few pigeons!
After all these visits away from the center, we return to Registan Square, which we’ll explore today with Nasrullo. This way, we’ll benefit from his insightful comments and explanations about the two madrasas, the mosque, and the esplanade itself.
Then Nasrullo leaves us. We stay on the site to enjoy one last time the interiors and views of the three buildings at the heart of the square.
Step 7: Legendary Samarkand
October 2nd - Off-the-beaten-path Samarkand (2/2)
In the early afternoon, I decide to take a stroll through the Jewish quarter. I pass through a small entrance located between Registan Square and the Bibi-Khanym Mosque. I’d spotted a few sites on Maps.Me in the area: small mosques, a mausoleum, a synagogue, and a madrasa.
I start with the small Qurabay Aqsaqal Mosque, then move on to another equally tiny one (Mubarak Mosque). While I’m in its courtyard, the owner of the shop directly across (a second-hand and thrift store) comes out to invite me in. I accept once I’ve finished exploring the small courtyard. It’s a real Ali Baba’s cave! The owner is proud to show me his collections of teapots, cups, Russian military medals, plates, glasses, and other miscellaneous items. He then invites me into different rooms of this old house turned shop. In the first, there are second-hand hats, and in the second, fabrics and women’s tunics. I ask if I can take his photo among the fabrics. He agrees and poses proudly. Then, in the third and last room, I find men’s coats that I really like! I’ll have to come back here with my wife—I’m sure she’ll love this place!
As I leave, I see a butcher in the street weighing a large piece of meat (half a sheep, a quarter of a cow?) before loading it into the back of a minivan. But where’s the refrigerated truck?
A little further on, I stop in front of the entrance to the synagogue. It’s closed. A woman passes by and sees me trying unsuccessfully to get in. She gently pushes me aside, starts shaking the door, and calls out to someone inside. After a few minutes, a man finally arrives. He seems delighted to have a visitor. We cross a small garden, climb a few steps, and find ourselves in a small corridor/porch with the synagogue’s entrance door at the end. On the wall of this ‘corridor,’ photos—probably of rabbis—are displayed. He comments on them, but of course, I don’t understand a word of what he’s saying. After fetching the key to the synagogue’s entrance, he opens it and immediately turns on the light. He continues his commentary inside. He invites me to take photos and opens cabinet/library doors to show me old books. As I’m about to leave, I realize I’m supposed to leave an offering. I pull out a 5,000 sum bill. He shows his dissatisfaction and makes it clear that 50,000 would be more appropriate. I comply, much to his satisfaction.
From the synagogue, I head to the small park and mausoleum of Imam Maturidi. I wanted to continue to another mosque where, in its courtyard, there’s the tomb of a scholar. But since it’s prayer time, I discreetly leave.
The last stop on this walk takes me to a small madrasa next to Panjakent Kso Street. In its courtyard, a group of young people are deep in conversation. One of them approaches me, explains that the others are Russians, and invites me into the building. Inside, I find four elderly men playing dominoes. I ask if I can sit at their table and watch them play a few rounds. As I’m leaving, one of them asks where I’m from. France? What does he say? Bingo! PSG! And he starts naming famous players! No problem here—I’ll definitely improve my knowledge of French football! Even more surprising, another player suddenly shouts ‘Charles Aznavour!’ and bursts out laughing.
This concludes my solo walk. Back at the hotel, I show the photos of the shop to my wife, who, unsurprisingly, asks if we can go there. And off we go! Unfortunately, once we arrive, we find the door closed. Oh well, we’ll come back another day!
We return quietly via the pedestrian path between the Bibi-Khanym Mosque and Registan Square.
Step 8: Shahrisabz / Tersak
October 3rd - A Countryside Vibe
This morning, we leave our suitcases at the hotel (since we’ll be back in two days) and set off with our backpacks, packed with a few essentials.
On the way to Shahrisabz, we stop at the top of a pass where there’s a small market. You’ll find lots of stalls selling *kuruts*—made from *suzima* (concentrated fermented milk)—usually shaped like little hardened balls, either plain (salted) or with herbs and chili. There’s also plenty of dried fruit, pears (it’s the season in the southern mountains), saffron, and various products the vendors claim are "medicine."
After this break, we continue to Shahrisabz, the birthplace of Tamerlane. Our visit starts at the remains of the palace entrance gate that Amir Temur built for his mother. As soon as we pass through these two ‘pillars,’ under a glass floor, we discover the ceramics that once covered the bottom of the palace pool (uncovered and restored by French archaeologists).
After visiting a small mausoleum, we head toward the massive statue of Tamerlane. Then, on the way to the Kok Gumbaz Mosque, Nasrullo takes us to a painter’s shop so we can see a model and a painting reconstructing the palace as it once was—long before Russian revolutionaries decided to destroy it with cannons.
Tamerlane had this palace built for his mother. Construction took over 30 years, and he funded it with the spoils of 14 military campaigns and territorial conquests.
After visiting the mosque and the two madrasas in the architectural complex, we head off for lunch. Nasrullo has chosen a large restaurant where the owner seems honored by our visit. He seats us in a spacious room away from the other customers. The meal is hearty, and for dessert, he treats us to a delicious cake.
At the end of the meal, it’s time to part ways. Nasrullo sets off to explore an isolated mountain village (he’d offered to take us along, but my wife wasn’t keen—especially since she wasn’t feeling well the day he suggested it). His goal is to eventually include it in his off-the-beaten-path travel offerings. As for us, we head to the village of Tersak as planned.
We’ll spend two nights in this village. The guesthouse owner welcomes us warmly. He’s a local figure: a former village mayor, still a ‘general councilor’ and deputy. He also used to teach French in Tersak and the surrounding villages. And he’s still a farmer and livestock breeder.
At 73, he’s the father of 11 children, has 30 (or 32?) grandchildren, and 5 or 6 great-grandchildren.
He thanks me profusely for the gift we brought him (cookies from Martre Tolosane and some school supplies, just like we gave to Asraf).
We’re served welcome tea with bunches of grapes.
We settle into our room, locate the bathroom block (two showers and two toilets at the far end of the garden), and then take a stroll through the village. Everyone we pass—young and old—greets us with a big ‘Bonjour!’ (in French, as written) and broad smiles.
A man calls out to me from his car, stopped by the side of the road. He grabs his little girl from the back seat and holds her up to the window so I can take her photo. A little further on, another man stops us because he wants me to take a photo of him with my wife. Then he invites us to eat at his place. Impossible, since we’re expected back at the guesthouse. We politely decline, careful not to offend him.
We return around 6:00 PM. It’s starting to get chilly. At 6:35 PM, the owner comes to fetch us. It’s mealtime. We’ll eat inside because it’s pitch black outside and barely 14°C (57°F).
The meal starts with a round of vodka! One glass is enough! Despite our host’s insistence. The meal is hearty, and during it, he explains (in French!) that tomorrow his childhood friends are coming over. They meet once a month and take turns hosting. He says his friends will be thrilled to spend time with us. He also tells us that tomorrow morning, his grandson will take us to the ‘waterfall’ near the village.
Dinner over, we quickly retreat under a thick blanket—it’s *freezing* here!
October 4th
After a nice hot shower (I’ll spare you—or almost—the details of the toilets without flushing, with a bucket and a pitcher acting as a flush—it somehow reminds me of a lumberjack village in Myanmar a few years back!), we have breakfast outside in the sun.
Then we set off to explore the amazing waterfall about 5-6 km from the house. It’s a pretty nice walk where we follow and cross a stream several times on small wooden bridges (logs), and pass through little paths in the arid mountains. An easy hike that ends at a huge… waterfall of less than a meter!
When we return, the friends and their wives have arrived. The men are seated outside, the women inside. The owner’s wife and youngest daughter started preparing this feast early this morning. Everyone’s been at the table for about an hour, and we join them around 10:00 AM. Picture the *tapchan* (a traditional piece of furniture: a large bench where you sit barefoot, with a low table in the middle) covered in food: dried fruit, fresh fruit (bananas, apples, grapes, watermelon, melon), candy, cakes, tomato/cucumber salad, bread, meat-filled pastries and pumpkin-filled ones, plenty of tea, sodas, mineral water (still and sparkling). My wife is invited to join us, and everyone insists we try everything. Then the wives come to fetch her… and insist she eat a bit of everything (the same lavish spread at the women’s table as the men’s! Poor thing!).
I can join in the conversation because the owner acts as our interpreter. His friends introduce themselves and ask me some ‘odd’ questions: What’s the religion in France? What’s mine? Are there Muslims in France? Oh, really? Why? In the Maghreb countries, what’s their religion? Oh, they’re Muslim?! After telling me their jobs (police officers, engineer, owner of a large store) and their age (they’re all 73), they ask more typical questions.
Around 12:45 PM, the owner tells me that at 1:00 PM, they’ll go pray, but not to worry—lunch will be served while they’re gone. What? Lunch? But we’ve already been eating for two hours!
I’m really not hungry! And what about my wife, who’s already had two servings!
Our places are set at the breakfast table. The young girl of the house brings us starters (yes, *starters*!): grilled eggplant salad and tomato/cucumber salad. Then a bowl of soup (yes, *soup*!) with a plate of boiled beef and vegetables (potatoes, carrots). There’s no way we can eat it all! Just a taste! For dessert, we get pieces of watermelon and melon. Faced with our fullness, the young girl laughs, teases us a little, and says, "Uzbeks eat a lot!" That’s an understatement!
After the meal, we waddle back to our room for a digestive nap. Then a walk around the village is a must—after all, dinner is at 6:30 PM!
The grandson joins us. He shows us his school: his classroom, the music room, the English room (since they no longer learn French in the village!), the sports field, and the ‘pool’ (an empty concrete tank).
When we return, all the guests have left.
Dinner is indoors again. It feels even colder than yesterday! The owner asks us about salaries in France and the cost of living. He tells us about his sons’ weddings: 400 guests for the first, 500 for the second, and up to 1,200 ("I had to—so many people know me!") for the last. He says he chose the wives for five of them. For the sixth, he’s not happy because his wife and son made the decision with the bride’s family while he was on vacation by the Black Sea… and they chose poorly, of course. It’s the only couple that isn’t doing ‘well’!
His wife joins us and looks exhausted. The owner jokes that he’s tired from the day and has eaten too much, but we can’t really feel sorry for him. His wife, on the other hand… doesn’t complain. After a while, she leaves and quickly returns with the youngest grandson in her arms. He starts crying ‘baba, baba’ when he sees his grandfather. A sweet moment when she hands him to me, and I hold him briefly in my arms.
Step 9: Urgut / Samarkand
October 5th - Return to Samarkand
This morning, our driver came to pick us up to head back to Samarkand. But first, we’re stopping in Urgut.
First stop: its huge market. So huge that we got lost among the stalls selling clothes, shoes, Uzbek hats, and... well, everything. We ran into Eric, the kebab vendor, who shouted from behind his grill, thumbs up, "PSG!" after asking where we were from, telling us his name, and asking us to take his photo.
From the market, we headed into the town center and crossed through it.
Second stop: Tchor Timor (Four Plane Trees). In this ancient garden, where sacred spring water flows, stand about fifty majestic plane trees, most of them 800 to 1,800 years old. Some have a circumference of over 16 meters! In one of them, near the entrance, time has formed a natural cave beneath its roots. At the back of the park, there’s a pool of crystal-clear water where sacred fish swim.
Our driver
This peaceful stroll under the canopy of these giant trees was a nice change from the bustle of the market and town center.
From there, we set off in search of the Gavsul A’Zam mausoleum, which our driver didn’t know. It was a little extra detour on our itinerary. He asked for directions several times, and we finally arrived at a site that really wasn’t a must-see. In fact, the pilgrims seemed quite surprised to see us there. Behind the mausoleum, we discovered a room in a building turned into a very surprising and unusual museum. Just see for yourselves! The exhibits were a real mix: stuffed animals, old tools and musical instruments, traditional clothing, pottery, ancient coins and banknotes, old photos, etc. And in one corner of the room, a stall selling plastic trinkets! On our way out, a group of women asked us to take their photo.
Then we headed back to Samarkand.
Back at the hotel, we picked up our luggage and a room.
In the mid-afternoon, we returned to the secondhand dealer/thrift shop, which was open today—much to my wife’s delight. I showed him the photo I’d taken of him two days earlier, which made him happy. After a purchase (a nice coat), we took one last little stroll through the market and a few artisan shops.
Step 10: Samarkand / Tashkent / Istanbul
October 6 - End of the trip
Last morning in Samarkand before taking the train to Tashkent.
Final stroll around Registan Square.
Nasrullo joins us at the hotel around noon, and we head out for lunch together. He takes the opportunity to show us some photos of the mountain village he scouted. The surrounding peaks are already snow-covered. This spot could be offered to tourists looking to get off the beaten path. If you're interested, let me know, and I’ll put you in touch with him!
Once settled in the small neighborhood restaurant, Javlon gives us the lovely surprise of joining us. We have a really pleasant time!
But all good things must come to an end, and it’s time to head to the train station. Nasrullo and Javlon accompany us to the station, and we say goodbye at the entrance.
A little later, we board the local high-speed train. We’re really comfortable—no need to book first class; the second-class seats are perfect. Shortly after departure, a free onboard service is offered: tea or coffee, plus a packet with a cake and pastry.
A little over two hours later, we arrive in Tashkent. The owner of the B&B where we stayed the first few days is waiting for us at the station exit. It’s arranged for us to rest at his place while he drives us to the airport around 11:30 PM.
Dinner at a nearby restaurant specializing in pasta—way too filling!
Our flight to Istanbul is slightly delayed, and we board around 2:45 AM.
Our layover is scheduled for 6 hours. We take advantage of Turkish Airways’ long layover gift: a tour of Istanbul. Several programs are offered depending on the layover duration. We can only take the shortest one (a 3.5-hour walk from Galata Bridge to Dolmabahçe Palace). As a result, the layover didn’t feel as long as it could have!
Return flight to Paris, landing around 5:30 PM.
End of the trip!
A huge thank you to Nasrullo and his team, who listened to me, were patient, gave advice, and adapted to my wishes (both during the planning and on the ground). All of this allowed us to return completely fulfilled from this wonderful trip!
Thanks for your travel journal, which really helped us organize ours with Nasrullo Jumanov’s assistance. We’ve just returned from Uzbekistan, and it was flawless in terms of organizing our 24-day trip. From the preparation to our stay on-site, communication was easy, and Nasrullo’s responses to our questions were quick and precise. We highly recommend Turquoise Travel for their highly competent guides who speak excellent French, as well as for the transportation arrangements (trains, cars with drivers) and accommodations that met all our expectations. You can reach out to Nasrullo Jumanov with complete confidence. So many great memories and exceptional homestay experiences! We could’ve stayed a little longer...
Thanks, it’s always nice to know my travel journal was helpful. And I’m glad you were happy with Nasrullo’s services!
I’m planning to return to Central Asia between August and September 2026, probably for 5 or 6 weeks—first sharing the trip with my daughter (3 weeks of more active travel) and then my wife will join me there (3 weeks of more cultural exploration).
Of course, I’ve already started discussing the plans with Nasrullo, since the first part will need a bit more preparation.
In the meantime, my wife and I have other projects this year and early 2026 that are quite different from Uzbekistan. More travel journals to come after my latest one on Colombia.
Your story really inspired us! We’re lucky enough to be heading there for 20 days—a country I’ve wanted to visit for so long. We got in touch with your guide, and he’s offering to be our only guide for the entire trip. Do you think that’s a good idea, or will we miss out on human connections and different perspectives on the country and its people?
Hello,
you made a great choice—Nasrullo is fantastic! No, you won’t be cut off from contacts and encounters at every stop, especially if you’ve planned some free time for exploration.
As for me, in mid-August, I’ll be heading to Kyrgyzstan for three weeks with my daughter. At the end of the trip (the last week), we’ll attend the World Nomad Games.
After that, I’ll return to Uzbekistan alone for two weeks, where I’ll have the great pleasure of seeing Nasrullo again. I haven’t finalized the itinerary with him yet, but I still have time to work that out.
Before that, in a few days, my wife and I are off to Mexico.
If you have any questions about your trip, don’t hesitate to reach out.
You’re in for a wonderful journey! !
1. Un consul pas comme les autres S'il est un voyage dont je rêvais depuis très longtemps, et que je n'avais eu de cesse de toujours remettre à plus tard,…
L'Afrosyiob galope dans un crépuscule avant l'heure, fouetté par une bourrasque de neige dense. Dans le gris infini se dessine parfois, rarement, un monumental…
Bon, allez, je me lance... J'ai trop apprécié, avant mon départ, de lire les carnets des autres voyageurs pour ne pas faire profiter de ma petite expérience…
C'est avec plaisir que je vous fait partager notre voyage de l'été 2019 dans les pays en stan. La version complète est ici, elle se construit au même rythme…
If I close my eyes and think of the Sultanate of Oman, I first smell a light scent of incense, feel the warmth of a sunbeam on my skin, before sand slips through my fingers. I taste the sweetness of a date, a real candy, then the flavor of coffee with a hint of cardamom and rosewater... I hear the desert wind whistling in my ears, the distant call of a muezzin, then the murmur of water. I open my eyes to see smiles, welcoming gestures, a turquoise sea, rocks ranging from ochre to purple, deep wadis where torrents burst forth, orange dunes, white sandy beaches where tiny crabs scurry at full speed. I see incredible oases emerging between arid mountains. I see abandoned villages that I’d dream were full of life, imposing fortresses overlooking valleys, and lively souks where offers are delicate and negotiation is a mutual courtesy.
All that, and so much more.
This is what I tried to capture in my illustrated travel journal, which I’ll fill in here and there with photos.
I drew this journal “cold,” after my return (actually, I made it this summer, while our trip was last winter). It’s a pretty special format—I bought it in Japan without really knowing what I’d do with it. Well, it found its purpose! Below is a photo of this accordion-style journal: here, it’s only partially open, because when fully unfolded, it’s 5 meters long!
For drawing enthusiasts: The accordion format is both a constraint (each sheet is 9 cm x 27 cm) and a freedom (you can create a fresco). The paper is also a bit special: it doesn’t allow for fine lines, but it takes ink well (liner pen). However, everything has to be done almost in one go (with a very light pencil sketch) because it erases poorly. It absorbs too much water for coloring with markers or watercolors (unless you avoid soaking it), but it works well with oil pastels and their use with a brush and solvent. Since it’s yellowish, it allowed me to create contrasts even with white pastel.
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those stunning doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Oman is one of the world’s largest producers of frankincense resin. Incense burners are everywhere, from the simplest clay ones to the most precious handcrafted silver ones...
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a touch of saffron, and occasionally rosewater.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (during the week and daytime; colors are more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you’ll see some men dressed in Western clothes, they’re very few. The white dishdasha is truly the shared attire of all men. The dishdasha, which has no hood, is distinguished by a small pom-pom attached to the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go overboard with it! "It smells like the pom-pom" is an expression that’s now part of our shared language, my husband and I.
Another must of men’s attire is the kuma, a small round head covering, usually white with brightly colored patterns. The keffiyeh is also worn (but without the cord called an agal in Arab countries), and it’s mostly worn by those with roots in the desert, from what I understood.
And what about the women, you might ask? Some are veiled, some in full black (but not a burka—more like a chador + abaya), due to the influence of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, whereas the traditional outfit used to be a layering of very colorful dresses. Most of the women we saw wore neutral clothing, a plain veil over their hair, but with their faces uncovered. We also saw many saris and colorful veils—don’t forget that 40% of the population consists of Indian, Nepalese, and Bangladeshi immigrants, who work a lot in tourism, hospitality, restaurants, services, and construction.
Just to clarify, as a tourist, there’s no pressure to wear a veil, and never any disapproving looks. Of course, you’ll save the mini shorts, plunging necklines, bare shoulders, and midriffs for the hotel terrace—but I’d say that’s the same for men and women, and with the sun being strong, it’s better for your skin too.
Here’s the introduction! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
After as many weeks as I have fingers on my right hand, we're hitting the road again, fully recovered from our pharaonic adventure. Back in France to drop off our daughters (sorry, girls!), this time it's just the two of us, ready to be welcomed by a new destination. They say it offers one of the richest cultural heritages in the world for those willing to put in the effort. It's the land of the ancient Silk Road, where we'll follow a journey steeped in history and discoveries straight out of *One Thousand and One Nights*. A former Soviet bloc region independent only since 1991, we'll be walking in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Alexander the Great, Marco Polo...
Another fun fact about this country: it's strictly forbidden to import porn on your phone. True story. The same goes for painkillers! Unless it's about sodomy—though the two don’t seem connected, that’s just how it is. Don’t ask me why! Anyway, I’m getting off track. Here’s the big question: Where do you think we’ve just landed?... To give you a hint, the locals are known for being incredibly welcoming. No sooner said than done—our first taxi driver, proud to transport French travelers, refused to let us pay for the ride. Great vibes for these two weeks ahead. So, any guesses?
Uzbekistan!!!
"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...
"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.
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!
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
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while.
When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing.
The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo.
But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip.
And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.
So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays:
- 3 nights in St Lucia
- 1 night in Hluhluwe
- 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini)
- 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini)
- 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti)
- 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve
- 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie
All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.
I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).
To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.
Hi everyone, we're back from a DIY USA road trip we organized from July 31, 2026, to August 26, 2026.
The destination: The Southwest USA, including Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico. Roughly 7,000 kilometers covered.
The car: A Chevrolet Equinox for two, rented through BSP Auto and Avis. Inside, we had 2 suitcases, a travel bag, two carry-on bags, a Walmart cooler, photo gear, and water bottles (a 40-pack).
The route: Dallas DFW, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Alpine, El Paso, Tucson, Sedona, Albuquerque, Amarillo, and back to Dallas to finish with a departure from DFW.
The travelers: Two seniors well advanced in years (73 and 75) but still active (nothing too physically demanding—to stay alive and fund our trips), fully independent physically, though a bit less so mentally. Big USA fans, a country where anything is possible. More walkers than hikers, preferring 3-star hotels over roadside motels, Italian restaurants over US food, frequent stops for photos, museums over nothing, naps over forced marches. Not too whiny, just enough to stay French in the land of the "great Satan," as they say.
Not great with languages—street English (but handy), and my Spanish is non-existent except for: "Hola! Una cerveza por favor!" That’s about it. My wife understands everything but refuses to speak.
The cost of the road trip: Around 12,000 €, including AF flights, the car, gas, gifts, visits, and everything else. Well managed, since we’d budgeted 13,500 € initially.
The positive side: A delight, with those endless open roads. Museums to discover. The realization of the Hispanic presence and its important history in this part of America. Lovely locals. Tourists who were more or less friendly. A terrible Texan accent that was hard to understand. Gas stations that were like real stores, with prepared food, alcohol sold in Arizona and New Mexico, and employees who were always up for a laugh!
The negative side: The heat throughout the trip... 43°C in Dallas at the end. Impossible to walk the streets. Lots of homeless people in downtown Dallas. Hotel breakfasts that were always the same. You get used to it.
So, it was positive overall, but the concept is starting to wear us out. We might rethink the DIY road trip model for next time. If the man upstairs grants us more time.
Next up, we’ll wait for the first batch of sorted photos to go through the wringer.
Here we go!!!
I left home at 4 AM on October 31st and headed to Barcelona. Driving through Barcelona on the ring road stresses me out a bit, but at 6 AM the traffic is smooth, and I arrive at the airport without any issues. I call the valet, who quickly comes to pick up my car. He takes photos of it from all angles before letting me go.
Baggage check-in hasn’t started yet, and there are already several of us waiting.
Once free, everything happens very quickly. The flight to Abu Dhabi is on time and goes smoothly. I’ve never had any problems with this airline, which I’ve been using for several years.
The flight to Bangkok arrives at 7 AM as scheduled. This is my first time in Thailand and Bangkok. I’m used to traveling in India, and I notice that everything here is well organized—the customs process is quick, and the luggage is already on the carousel.
I booked a taxi on Booking. All I have to do is find the right exit and door based on the agency’s instructions. A large sign with the names of people who booked is posted on a wall. A hostess greets me and calls the taxi, which arrives 5 minutes later. I booked one night at the Lost Inn BKK hotel in the Phra Nakhon district, and we arrive at 9 AM. The welcome isn’t warm, and I have to wait until noon, sitting on a chair, before I can check into my room. I’m exhausted, and sleeping sitting up isn’t ideal. Noon finally arrives—the room is small but clean, which is fine for one night. I quickly take a shower to wake up because I plan to spend the afternoon visiting the Grand Palace. First, I need to exchange some money, and the banks are all close together on the same street, which is very convenient. When I enter one, a hostess gives me a ticket and invites me to sit down. There are about twenty counters, and I wait quietly until my number is called. The exchange is quick, so I can head out to find the Royal Palace. It’s actually very easy, and the walk is pleasant.
Entry to the Royal Palace (500 baht).
It’s magnificent and grand, and there are quite a few of us visiting. The sky is gray, it’s very humid, and a shower interrupts the visit. It’s a vast complex of temples and palaces. The buildings are colorful and sparkling, with a great sense of serenity (without the tourists, of course). I quietly enjoy the place and try to take photos without tourists, which isn’t easy.
Very close to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, one of the oldest Buddhist temples in the capital.
It’s very famous for its 46-meter-long reclining Buddha statue.
Walking around the temple, you can see different representations of Buddha, all covered in gold leaf.
Inside the temple, on one side, monks recite their prayers, while the other side is reserved for tourists who come to meditate in silence.
Before returning to the hotel, I have dinner at an Indian restaurant. I go to bed early because tomorrow’s wake-up call will be very early again.
Saturday, November 2nd
Wake-up at 4 AM, departure from the hotel at 4:30 AM. The taxi I booked via Booking is waiting for me and takes me to the airport. The trip is fairly quick—he takes small roads, and at this hour, there’s no traffic.
The flight to Phnom Penh is on time. Before boarding, I realize I left my fleece jacket on the carousel, but it’s too late to go back for it.
The flight goes well, and customs is quick.
At the exit, I take a tuk-tuk to Julieka’s GH near the museum. The welcome is friendly. I won’t be able to check into my room until noon, so I take the opportunity to exchange some euros on the market street. The street is lined with restaurants, and I’ll have my first meal there.
The museum is right across the street, so I don’t waste any time visiting it.
The representations of Hindu deities are very different from those in India, and I don’t recognize them. Many beautiful Buddhas are on display.
The museum is very pleasant, and there aren’t too many people, which is a plus.
At the exit, I return to the GH, settle into my room—which is decent and clean.
The Royal Palace is 1 km away. I walk along a garden, and at the end of the street is the Tonlé Sap, but I turn right. I arrive at a large esplanade and see the buildings with tiered roofs and glazed tiles. The entrance to the palace is a little further away.
At the entrance, I notice there isn’t the same crowd as at the one in BKK.
Khmer architecture is magnificent. The complex consists of gardens, palaces, pagodas with golden roofs, and slender spires.
The Silver Pagoda houses the small Emerald Buddha, which is actually made of jade. The silver flooring is covered with carpets. Photos are not allowed.
The walls surrounding the pagoda are covered with frescoes depicting scenes from the Ramayana.
My partner and I traveled from Sunday, July 5, 2026, to Wednesday, July 22, 2026.
We spent a long time debating whether to rent a car or use public transportation. In the end, after reading so many posts about travelers getting scammed by police or rental companies—even those recommended by blogs and reviews—we decided to stick with public transport. It worked out really well. Sure, we had a little less freedom to go where we wanted, but it was way less stressful for us.
Sunday, July 5:
Arrived at Cancun Airport. Withdrew cash from the ATM in the terminal just before exiting. The ADO bus counter (they pronounce it "A-Jee-O") is right behind you when you're facing the ATM. Bus to downtown Cancun cost 145 pesos per person.
Stayed at "Rose 5," booked on Booking. The studio was super clean and perfect for one night. The owner’s instructions for accessing the place were very precise, with photos included. Check-in was self-service with a code. The ADO bus terminal isn’t far, and there are shops and restaurants nearby. We really appreciated that the AC was already on when we arrived. By the way, I’d recommend always booking places with AC—it’s *really* hot in Mexico.
Monday, July 6:
Bought a SIM card with data from a TELCEL store. My partner, who’s on Free Mobile, was able to use her regular plan. Just so you know, I found the network pretty unstable. As soon as we left the cities, neither of us—me with TELCEL or her with Free—had any signal.
Another thing to watch out for: roaming charges. I had to turn my SIM back on for less than 30 seconds to get a bank SMS code, and my phone apparently connected to the internet—resulting in an 8-euro roaming fee.
Left on an ADO bus to Chiquila for 278 pesos per person. During our trip, ADO buses were always on time, comfortable, and clean. The AC is *cranked* though, so bring something to cover up with—it gets cold. Some routes were fully booked even in the low season, so try to reserve 1 or 2 days in advance either via the app (when it works) or at the counter.
When we arrived at the ADO terminal in Chiquila, the ferry company counters were right next to it. Ferries leave every 30 minutes, alternating between companies, so no need to book ahead. Just take whichever one is leaving next (330 pesos per person).
When we got to Holbox (pronounced "Hol-bosh"), we’d booked a place via Booking called "Casa de Nana." It was a huge studio with a fridge, cooking plate, and utensils. The best part? The *location*. It was 100 meters from the beach and 200 meters from a Chedraui supermarket. They provided bath towels and beach towels, and the AC worked perfectly. There’s a key box so you can leave your keys inside when you go out. The only downside was that no one was there to let us in when we arrived, so we had to wait a while. The Wi-Fi was good, which was lucky because during our 4-day stay in Holbox, the phone network *never* worked. According to locals, that’s pretty common in Holbox, along with water outages.
Luckily, I’d had the good idea to download an offline map, which helped us find our way back to the place more easily. You can walk there from the dock.
The restaurant next to our place (La Barracuda) was great if you like seafood—I’d recommend their octopus dishes.
Tuesday, July 7:
We did a kayak tour in Holbox’s mangroves at 6 AM. We were looking for a sunrise kayak tour with a French-speaking guide. That’s exactly what we got with "Kayaking Holbox," where Diego, the owner, speaks English and French. He was joined by Gustavo, another guide.
We’d booked for a group tour, but we were the only ones. Diego still went ahead with it instead of canceling due to lack of participants, so we got a private tour at the group rate—really professional of him. They showed us this amazing ecosystem for over 3 hours. We saw all kinds of birds: pink flamingos, pelicans, egrets, frigatebirds... rays, a horseshoe crab, and a little crocodile that was *so* well hidden. Diego and Gustavo have a real eye for spotting animals—I could’ve passed by the crocodile 100 times and never seen it, it blended in so well. Their explanations about the flora and fauna were super interesting. We also got a little break where we tasted mangoes and bananas that taste *nothing* like the ones in France. A real treat—those little Mexican yellow mangoes! I’d definitely recommend Diego and his agency for a French-language kayak tour (1000 pesos per person).
In the evening, we walked to Punta Coco to see the bioluminescence. No need for a guided tour—if you really don’t want to walk, you can take a taxi. At Punta Coco, you have to pass the beach bar/restaurant and then go left into a kind of inlet that forms a lagoon. You have to wiggle your feet or move your hands in the water to create movement, which makes the light appear. Just don’t expect the kind of photos you’ve seen online—they’re all edited! It’s fun to see, but you won’t be dazzled by the light...
Wednesday, July 8:
Whale shark tour with "My Holbox Tours." Why recommend this agency over others for swimming with whale sharks? Simply because Valérie surrounds herself with top professionals to make your experience unforgettable. We were with Captain Fernando, who does everything to position the boat perfectly and make your swim easier. In the water, we were with Humberto, who also goes above and beyond to make sure you have an incredible time. He doesn’t just "supervise" like some guides from other companies who leave you on your own. No, Humberto reads the whale shark’s trajectory and guides you—all you have to do is follow him. He really puts in the effort, even holding your hand to guide you through this quick but intense encounter. Humberto also films the moment and will offer to show you the videos and sell them to you. His footage is really high quality.
Fernando and Humberto also prepared food for us. Special mention for their guacamole! Valérie is there to make sure everything goes smoothly on the boat and to answer your questions in French, English, or Spanish about these animals. If you choose My Holbox Tours, you can be sure you’ll get a top-notch experience.
About the tour itself: before you go, you should know that the sharks can be *really* far away. The day we went, it took 3.5 hours by boat to reach them. The boats are small, and let me tell you—on the way there, when we weren’t going with the waves, it was *rough*. Out of 9 passengers, 4 got seasick. But once you’re face-to-face with the shark, you forget all about that. Even if swimming with a whale shark isn’t exactly a walk in the park—they swim pretty fast, so you need some endurance to keep up. You’ll usually get 2 turns. Our first swim lasted a little over 4 minutes, and the second about 2 minutes because the shark was moving fast and we were still tired from the first swim. It might seem short, but when you’re swimming, it feels *long*. Either way, it’s an experience you *have* to do—but choose your company wisely. On the way back, there’s a stop at Cabo Catoche. Honestly, the snorkeling is pretty disappointing if you’ve done it elsewhere in the world. But the lunch stop at Cabo Catoche is really nice for relaxing (white sand and hammocks).
Thursday, July 9:
Short morning walk to Punta Mosquito at 6 AM. Really nice.
Ferry to Chiquila (330 pesos per person) + ADO bus to Valladolid (300 pesos per person).
In Valladolid, we booked "Casa Lucia" via Booking. The hotel is gorgeous, with a colonial style, and very close to the ADO bus terminal and downtown. It’s super quiet and clean. There’s a shared kitchen you can use with a fridge, microwave, and water dispenser, plus a big table by the pool and a nice indoor terrace. Breakfast was simple but included. The only small downsides were the tiny room and bathroom, no mirror in the room, and a noisy fan.
Friday, July 10:
Not far from the ADO bus terminal is the colectivo station for Chichen Itza. They offer a round-trip to Chichen Itza with an option to stop at Ik Kil cenote on the way back and then drop you off in Valladolid for 370 pesos per person (Ik Kil entrance included).
For the Chichen Itza visit, we’d booked a tour with a guide often mentioned in groups—his name is Juan Pat. He’s a Maya who lives near the site and speaks excellent French. He reserves spots in advance for you and queues up to be the first on-site. It cost 500 pesos per person + entrance fees. His tour lasts 2 hours and focuses mainly on the main pyramid and the ball court. He’s passionate and fascinating, even if some of his claims, as a Maya, might be a little biased. I think it’s *really* important to have a guide—otherwise, you’ll miss so much. You can contact Juan Pat on WhatsApp at +52 985 121 2381.
Afterward, we went to Ik Kil cenote (showers and life jackets mandatory, lockers available). It’s *very* crowded, but still really beautiful with its lush vegetation.
Saturday, July 11:
Since we didn’t have a car but still wanted to visit other cenotes that seemed hard to reach by public transport, we decided to book a taxi for the day. We agreed on 1200 pesos to take us to 3 different cenotes and wait for us at each one. (To find taxis, just look where they park near the ADO bus station.)
He picked us up at Zaci cenote, which we’d walked to. We got there at opening time and were the first ones there—had the place to ourselves for a while! 150 pesos per person. A pretty cenote in the city center with lush vegetation. It’s a bit like Ik Kil but without the deep cylindrical effect.
Cenote Xcanahaltun: the most beautiful cenote we visited. Entry 250 pesos per person. It’s a closed cenote with a hole that lets light in—a cave-like setting. You can kayak inside. There are little fish at the edge that nibble dead skin off your feet. Since it’s closed, the water is *freezing*!
Cenote Palomitas: entry 250 pesos per person. Another stunning closed cenote, even more enclosed than Xcanahaltun. The hole in the ceiling is smaller, so it was pretty dark when we arrived—kind of an eerie vibe. But when the staff turned on the lights, it looked like a "Gothic cathedral" full of bright stalactites.
Cenote Sac Aua: entry 290 pesos per person. The ticket includes a guided cave tour (tip-based). This cenote is really unique with its central island and way less crowded than Suytun. Just so you know, the water is *really* cold in cenotes. In these three, in July, we had the place to ourselves for a while and never saw more than 2 families at once—so peaceful!
Sunday, July 12:
ADO bus to Bacalar (536 pesos per person).
In Bacalar, we stayed via Airbnb with a host named Luli, who offers several rooms with shared bathroom and kitchen.
The room is nicely decorated in a pleasant setting. It’s ideally located near the lagoon and downtown. The shared kitchen is handy. The mosquito net over the bed is useful because there are *a lot* of mosquitoes in Bacalar. Luli provides a water jug, which is really nice. The only big downside is the lack of water pressure in the shower—we had to rinse off by filling a bucket. Also, there’s no real door separating the room from the bathroom. We never met Luli in person, but she was very responsive via messages. The terrace in the middle of the vegetation is lovely.
From the ADO terminal to the place, we took a taxi for 40 pesos. Since this driver was honest about the price (we’d checked beforehand), we decided to use him every time we needed a taxi in Bacalar. Here’s his WhatsApp: +52 983 184 3585.
Monday, July 13:
We did a boat tour on the lagoon with "Bacalar Francophone Activities." Since we were just the two of us, it cost 3500 pesos. If we’d managed to be 4 people, it would’ve been 1000 pesos per person.
We had a private 4-hour tour on the lagoon with Steeve and his very comfortable boat. He’s from Quebec, so his French is perfect. During those 4 hours, Steeve showed us the lagoon’s iconic spots *and* places other boats don’t go. He told us about the lagoon’s history and gave great tips on where to go and where to eat. As a little bonus, he gave us a video taken with his drone during our swimming break.
Tuesday, July 14:
We went to Los Rapidos by taxi (400 pesos round trip) and entry was 225 pesos per person. It’s *very* touristy but really beautiful. You can eat there (expensive), relax, and go down the "rapids" as many times as you want. It’s worth it if you spend a few hours there. You can’t bring in food or drinks—you leave them at the entrance and pick them up on the way out.
Wednesday, July 15:
On Wednesdays, navigation is banned on Bacalar Lagoon, so we’d planned another excursion.
Visit to Calakmul from Bacalar with ABCtours (WhatsApp +52 983 319 8359).
This agency organized a trip from Bacalar to Calakmul with a French-speaking guide. Communication beforehand via WhatsApp was smooth. Mr. Checo, the driver, and Fernando, the guide (who spoke great French), picked us up on the day. Mr. Checo drove very carefully on the long road and always made sure we were comfortable. Fernando is passionate about flora and fauna—he’s a biologist with a degree in ornithology, so he knows *everything* about animals. The slightest sound or song, and he knows what it is. He’s got an eye for spotting them, from the biggest to the smallest.
During the trip, we stopped at km 27 for a short forest walk, then went to see the two main pyramids on the site. On the way back, we stopped at the bat cave for the magical spectacle of millions of bats flying out at dusk. In the end, we saw or glimpsed (some briefly) spider monkeys, howler monkeys, a toucan, 2 tapirs, turkeys, 2 deer, and lots of birds. If, like us, you’re more into flora and fauna than archaeology, I’d *highly* recommend this agency and tour with Fernando.
It’s not cheap, but the road between Bacalar and the site is *long* (3.5 hours). Price: 3900 pesos per person for 2 (3500 for 3, 3200 for 4).
Thursday, July 16:
ADO bus to Playa del Carmen (614 pesos per person).
In Playa del Carmen, we stayed in an Airbnb. The building is on the town hall square, next to the casino.
The best thing about this place is the *location*—super close to Fifth Avenue (La Quinta). The kitchen is pretty basic, but the fridge works well. There are supermarkets nearby. The rooftop pool is really nice. The two big downsides, though, are the soundproofing (you can *hear* the neighbor’s alarm and all the events on the square) and the *total* lack of water pressure in the shower. We had to fill a trash can with water to pour over ourselves. When we told the owner, he said it wasn’t normal and someone would come fix it, but we never heard back. Based on previous reviews, this seems to be a known issue that never gets resolved.
Playa del Carmen is *very* touristy on Fifth Avenue, but in a fun, musical vibe—we never felt unsafe. There are *tons* of little souvenir shops for tourists on this street. There’s a beautiful monumental sculpture on the beach (the two figures meeting in the air), next to which you can see the Voladores show (men climbing a pole, tying themselves with ropes, and descending headfirst while "flying" around the pole). The show is tip-based and happens several times a day. In our opinion, Calle 38 is prettier than Fifth Avenue—it’s lush, green, and quieter, with the sea at the end. Great for an early evening stroll. We had really good meals at great prices at "El Tio Noy" tacos, just a few meters from Fifth Avenue in a side street.
For souvenirs, we’d recommend going to Walmart instead of Fifth Avenue—you’ll find skulls, tequila, mezcal, keychains, mugs, glasses... at good, fixed prices.
Friday, July 17:
We did the excursion to Isla Contoy. Isla Contoy is an uninhabited, highly protected island. Only 200 people are allowed to land per day on a rotating basis, so only a few companies have permission to dock there. Most agencies subcontract the day to a third-party company.
We booked through VRM (Viviendo Riviera Maya), but it was Ocean Tours Mexico that handled the tour. Contoy is a little paradise. We were accompanied by multilingual guides, including French speakers, throughout the day. Steffy gave us info about the island during a short walk on the marked trails, and Leño Tlatemoa kept the mood up on the boat rides with music and dancing. Isla Contoy is *truly* stunning, and the lunch was delicious: grilled fish and chicken, guacamole and tortilla chips, rice, fruit, drinks (everything is brought and taken back by the guides). The snorkeling part was pretty disappointing if you’ve done it in Cozumel, though. The stop at Isla Mujeres isn’t very interesting either—it’s too short to explore, and the island is *extremely* touristy. Still, the excursion was very well organized, and we had a great day (2970 pesos per person).
Saturday, July 18:
We wanted to go snorkeling in Cozumel but thought the prices from French-speaking agencies were too high. Plus, for snorkeling, we figured we didn’t *need* a French-speaking guide.
So we found a much cheaper solution by taking the ferry from Playa del Carmen ourselves and choosing an agency in Playa. The round-trip ferry cost 663.50 pesos per person. Then we took a taxi to the snorkeling boat (100 pesos). The agency we chose is called Mystic Snorkel—they don’t have a physical office. The tour cost 1400 pesos per person. It was a small boat, but that day we were the only ones, so we got a private tour at the group rate. We stopped at 4 different sites, all very different and beautiful. We saw all kinds of fish, corals, a nurse shark, and turtles. El Cielo, with its huge starfish, is *exceptional*. If you’re going snorkeling in the Yucatan Peninsula, this is *the* tour to do—the other sites are pretty "poor" in comparison.
Sunday, July 19:
Morning dive with Triton Diving. I chose the Cozumel dive option. Great experience.
Booking via WhatsApp was easy. On the day of the dive, Selene, who speaks French, was our guide. She’s *very* attentive to the group’s safety. The briefings are clear and precise. In Cozumel, we did 2 very different sites: the first was a drift dive with lots of life—beautiful corals and fish. The second was a wreck, the C53, a 56-meter boat you can enter. Not much marine life, but a beautiful wreck intentionally sunk for divers—still in great condition. An unforgettable moment. Selene even took videos during the dive, which the club sends you for free afterward. I’d *highly* recommend this club.
Just so you know, in Playa del Carmen, the beaches were full of sargassum during our stay, despite barriers and daily cleanup. Locals told us the problem is getting worse and the sargassum is arriving earlier in the season. Tourism has taken a *big* hit this summer, and they’re wondering if tourism can even survive the sargassum season anymore. A lot of tourists are heading to the islands—Isla Mujeres and Cozumel—to enjoy the beaches, as the west side of those islands is sargassum-free.
Monday, July 20:
Colectivo to Puerto Morelos. First, a colectivo toward Cancun that drops you off between Puerto Morelos town and Puerto Morelos beach (40 pesos per person), then another from that junction to the beach (10 pesos per person).
In Puerto Morelos, we’d booked a room via Airbnb at "Piedra del Caribe." *Best* place we stayed in Mexico. It’s an aparthotel. Our room was ready before check-in, so they let us in early. The place matched the description—spacious, with a comfortable king-size bed. The shower had *great* pressure, which isn’t a given in Mexico. The staff was super friendly and welcoming. They let us use the pool, restrooms, and rooftop shower after check-out while we waited for our ride to Cancun Airport. They even kept our luggage. I *highly* recommend this place.
In Puerto Morelos, there was *way* less sargassum than in Playa del Carmen—it was actually swimmable.
We did the snorkeling tour with the fishermen’s cooperative for 450 pesos per person for 2 hours. The reef is close to the beach (you’re not allowed to swim there), so the boat ride is short. It’s not as pretty as Cozumel, but it’s nice and affordable. On Puerto Morelos’s page, you can also access a small, not-very-well-preserved reef. There’s also a cenote in the sea where fresh water mixes with saltwater—the water is murky there. We had a great dinner and excellent cocktails at "La Choza del Puerto."
Tuesday, July 21:
Wandered around Puerto Morelos (check out the church and read everything—it’s entertaining!), relaxed by the hotel pool, and left for Cancun Airport by taxi (400 pesos) booked via InDrive to head back to France.
Our highlights:
- Holbox
- The whale shark tour
- The cenotes
- The local flora and fauna (so present!)
- Isla Contoy
- Cabo Catoche (except for the snorkeling)
What we liked least:
- The bioluminescence (barely visible despite good conditions)
- The food—we found it not very diverse in taquerias
- The constant tipping
- The lack of water pressure in showers (fixed, wall-mounted, no hose or showerhead)
Don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions while it’s still fresh in our minds.
Traveling with just one spare pair of underwear, considering a hot shower a miracle, never staying in the same place too long by sleeping wherever night catches us, taking whatever local, improbable, and rickety transport we can find—this is the DNA of us wanderers. Except this time, the script for our movie is going to be a whole different genre. On paper, the destination doesn’t exactly scream epic adventure: Réunion! And what’s more... we won’t be two, or four, or even ten. We’ll be a solid thirty. All from the same family. Yes, thirty. At this point, it’s not just a trip—it’s a summer camp on the move! Why inflict this on such a peaceful island? Because my brother decided to get married there with his lovely bride. A great idea, you might say... especially when it involves relocating the equivalent of a small Ardennes village 10,000 kilometers from home for three weeks! So who’s stepping up to be the guide and wave the little flag?
So, for an exceptional trip, exceptional stories! Don’t worry, the debates at the supermarket over whether to choose plain chips or roast chicken chips, the beach picnics washed down with ti’ punch, and other rougail sausages to digest by the pool will only make it into the family archives. Here, I’ll stick to the tales of our beautiful escapes, the ones where we explore the wild corners of this little volcanic rock planted in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So where exactly are we headed?
For the first week—the subject of this first installment—we’re taking it easy. We’ll start by rediscovering the coastline, from the Souffleur in Saint-Leu to the Hermitage lagoon, before a little trip to the Cirque de Cilaos and its legendary road with 400 turns, just to get our legs warmed up.
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.
It was winter, a winter with beautiful weather,
A season that only exists in the southwest of America,
I remember very well what I told you that morning
A month ago... A century ago, an eternity ago...
We’ll go... wherever you want, whenever you want...
Well, yeah, back from our adventure in our enchanting American West just a month ago, we’re already taking a bite out of one of its lesser-known competitors. "Flo, if you had to pick just one reason to justify your love for the U.S., what would it be?" The greasy, dripping burgers? No, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by saying it’d be the wide-open spaces... And that’s exactly what our new quest is taking us to—a land on the other side of the globe where the horizon also seems endless, where silence tastes like salty wind and sand, where freedom is measured in kilometers of desert tracks, where the GPS is mostly there to confirm you’re lost in the middle of nowhere... Add to that magic formula the fact that you’ll see more zebras, giraffes, wildebeest, and elephants than people per square kilometer, and you can imagine us setting foot in Southern Africa for the first time, more precisely at the small airport in Windhoek, capital of... of...? Brush up on your geography, damn it! We’re landing in Namibia!!!
To be honest, Namibian landscapes have been flirting with me for ages. So how did I resist this island of temptation for so long? First, the budget. Let’s just say that for the same amount of effort (and kidneys), the bank lets you choose two other adventures almost anywhere else on the planet. Then there were my girls. Yeah, back then, they were too little to dose up on Malarone, the only malaria remedy at the time... Long story short, ten years later, all the planets have aligned. First, I won the Euromillions! Well, almost... Let’s just say my girls are now old enough... not to take Malarone, but to stop following me on all my adventures! Jackpot! "Flo, how about a little two-person caprice, just the two of us, tackling the Namibian tracks?"
As we landed on the runway, first wow effect: The horizon is immense. It’s flat as can be, incredibly flat... So much flat space! Did I mention it was flat?... Looking into the distance, it feels like your gaze could circle the Earth without hitting a single obstacle—until you end up staring at your own backside. "Oh, what a nice view!" Well, it’s the first time I’ve seen my butt from this angle! Touching moment... Sorry, I’m rambling—must be the exhaustion from the three-flight marathon we just powered through via Ethiopia and South Africa... And yet, no time to philosophize about my anatomy. As usual, we want to rack up our first kilometers to be front and center at dawn tomorrow. After wrapping up the tedious Namibian immigration formalities and meeting the 4x4 that’ll be our companion day and night for the next fifteen days, we’re off! We’re not exactly fresh, but we’re ready to tackle the next five hundred kilometers in night mode, cruise control set due south! Just outside Windhoek, the local wildlife—a jackal—welcomes us with a smile: "Welcome to Namibia!" That’s what it said! Honest... Okay, first endless straight road, first flaming sunset, first corrugated dirt track, first Milky Way with zero light pollution... You get it—it’s definitely the day of firsts... First night camping, too, in the big trunk of our Toyota Fortuner parked by the side of the track... The real adventure, the kind that smells under the arms, can finally begin...
Here we go—finally, the big day has arrived! A trip the whole family (my two kids, my husband, and me) had been looking forward to for so long.
To keep it short, we left from Nice, arrived in Namibia on June 25, 2025, and left again on the 21st—four weeks later.
We used an agency for all the camping reservations, activities, and the car rental. At least that side of things was taken care of. Michaël was our contact throughout the planning and the trip itself.
We spent our first night at Londiningi BB. A bit out of the city center but very quiet. The rooms were spacious and clean, and we could eat on-site that evening. Perfect for recovering from the flight.
This travel journal is our second on VoyageForum, following last year’s where we recounted our four weeks in Vietnam.
The goal remains the same: since some members on this site share tips, experiences, and great deals that help us prepare for our trips, we do the same after returning—both to give back a little and in the hope that our experiences might be useful to others in some way.
Our route was as follows: Bangkok, Siem Reap, Krabi, Suratthani, Koh Phangan, Koh Tao, Chumphon, Bang Saphan, Prachuab Khiri Khan, Sam Roi Yod, Hua Hin, Phetchaburi, Bangkok.
Beyond rediscovering Bangkok, our objectives were the long-held dream of seeing Angkor and exploring southern Thailand, much of which isn’t overly touristy.
A quick big thank-you to Barbot, who took the time to answer several of our questions.
12/07/2013
The cheapest flight we found earlier this year was a Paris-Bangkok route with a layover in Moscow for 1440 €, total for two people.
So, this time we tried Aeroflot. Airbus A318 for the first leg, A330 for the second. Nothing particularly annoying to report—the passengers were very calm, the cabin temperature was comfortable, and we had enough legroom.
That said, the quality of the meal trays was pretty mediocre, and the flight attendants weren’t exactly comedians.
We’d like to remind everyone that it’s best to exchange as little money as possible at the airport upon arrival, since the rate is about 5% worse than at city banks.
Of course, we made sure to take the airport exit where you can catch official taxis to avoid getting scammed. So, we queued up, a little lady gave us the ticket, and off we went with the driver.
Generally, this system works well because these drivers are registered, know their duties, and the risks they face if they break the rules. Except that day, right off the bat, we got the scammer of the day. His first move was to snatch the ticket from my wife’s hands—the one you’re supposed to keep in case of a complaint. My husband saw it, but after a full day of travel, we were a bit out of it, and honestly, there was no reason to be suspicious. But once we started driving, the guy refused to turn on the meter. We insisted more and more firmly, but nothing. So, I used the famous method of opening the door and starting to step out of the car. At 40 km/h, that scares the driver more than the passenger. He finally turned on the meter, but that didn’t calm him down—quite the opposite. For the next half-hour, he ruined the ride by demanding extra fees here and there. Having dealt with several scam attempts last year in Vietnam, this wasn’t exactly new, and we were proud of ourselves for staying pretty zen. Still, this guy was a little scary—he was completely wired and aggressive. Honestly, it was hard not to think he was on something. He’d be perfect for a *Scarface* remake. When we finally arrived at the hotel, he followed us to the entrance. We paid the two tolls (25 and 45 baht), gave him the usual 100 baht extra for the ride, and stayed polite but firm. So, meter: 245 baht + 100 baht + 25 and 45 baht for tolls—we paid the exact amount, no way we were tipping this guy. He left furious, but he was already like that before picking us up... Anyway, avoid Mr. Chartree Chidchen, number 089 826 7308, car E2663!
We were so relieved to finally settle in at Feung Nakorn Balcony hotel in the temple district. 42 € per night, great reception, all the staff is friendly. The AC works fine, the bed seemed hard at first but turned out to be comfortable. The hotel is quiet, away from the nightlife, but at this time of year, many places are less crowded than in high season. Even with a nice fish pond and outdoor breakfast area, it’s a decent hotel, though we felt we could’ve found something better.
After a night on the plane, the first afternoon is always a bit of a slog. We napped for a few hours, and when we woke up—guess what—we were starving. We visited a temple across from the hotel (nothing special) and then decided to take the Chao Phraya Express, the river shuttle that serves many piers along the river. It was a really enjoyable experience. The steel gangway wobbles when you board and disembark, the boat sits low in the water, and sometimes you get splashed. During peak times, you’re packed in like sardines, but most of all, there’s that exotic urban landscape passing by, especially the temple rooftops.
At that exact moment, the boat was packed. We didn’t see a ticket booth at the pier, and we tried in vain to pay the few baht for the ride. The cashier on the boat was too busy, and another employee we called didn’t have time to help us. Oh well, we weren’t going to force the issue. Still, this mode of transport is super practical for avoiding traffic, and at the piers, the lines with station names are clearly marked, with colors matching the flags on the boats. Combined with a map like the *Routard* guide, it’s easy to navigate.
We easily made it to the restaurant *Harmonique*, located near one of these piers. It’s a unanimous favorite on this forum, and let us tell you—it’s well-deserved. What a wonderful experience that evening! We only saw the outdoor gazebo because there was no way we were dining inside. It’s not flashy, so those looking for a luxurious setting should look elsewhere.
That night, the staff was a bit slow, and we had to track them down several times to move things along. But oh, my friends—what a feast on the plate! Start with the appetizer platter for two at 250 baht, featuring four specialties, each more tempting than the last, followed by their famous crab curry for 200 baht. There’s *so much* crab in there! The dish is so delicious and rich that when you finish, you feel—how to put it—like it was almost *too* good, to the point where you’re almost put off eating for days. And also, oh yes, we *will* be back. Their satay chicken is just as amazing, and it would be a crime not to mention their generous dessert with ice cream, warm banana, and chocolate, plus their *excellent* almond milkshake.
Later, we took a taxi to Kao San Road, mainly to book a Ko Tao-Chumphon trip for 600 baht per person at the Lomprayah counter. In hindsight, we should’ve booked all three of our trips there right away.
Kao San Road is *ultra*-touristy—better for younger crowds, but it’s still worth seeing. There’s rock ‘n’ roll, hippies, and crowds everywhere.
We walked back to the hotel, and when we got a little lost near a canal, a really nice older Thai man spontaneously appeared out of the night to kindly point us in the right direction.
Finally, a real long night of sleep ahead—we cranked up the AC. Sweet, the vacation has begun!
Hi there,
I just got back from a trip to Sri Lanka from December 18th to January 1st with 2 adults and 2 kids (12 years old).
If it helps, here’s my itinerary.
We left on December 18th from Madrid with Qatar Airways. No complaints. I booked my tickets back in March for 800 € per person. (I flew from Madrid because I live near the Spanish border and was too worried about strikes in France.)
We arrived on December 19th at 4 PM (local time). Before leaving France, I’d booked a taxi through MyTransfer for 59 € to Sigiriya. A van was waiting for us at the airport exit.
A never-ending 3-hour drive to Sigiriya. We stayed at Samana Guesthouse—very simple, clean, with a pool and an excellent Sri Lankan breakfast. Shower and straight to bed.
Friday, December 20th: Beautiful weather, but very humid and hot. We visited Lion Rock (36 € for adults) and then Pidurangala.
I loved both sites—they’re a must-do in my opinion.
Spent the late afternoon by the pool.
Saturday, December 21st: Another gorgeous day. The guesthouse manager offered us a free 2-hour tuk-tuk tour. We first visited a lake, rice fields, the temple, and the Sigiriya market, plus the usual tourist trap—the botanical garden (no pressure to buy anything at the end).
Then we took a tuk-tuk to Dambulla Temple, the Golden Buddha, and the wholesale market.
Sunday, December 22nd: Still beautiful weather. I’d booked a taxi for 8 AM. We did all the long trips by taxi to save time. I’d ask for prices from 2 or 3 WhatsApp taxi agencies 2 days or the day before—super responsive, always got replies within 5 minutes. We headed to Ella (4-hour drive) for 22,000 LKR.
Arrived in the afternoon at Rest Full Homestay—a small, family-run guesthouse. Clean, cozy, and an amazing Sri Lankan breakfast.
In the afternoon, we went to Nine Arches Bridge. It was a Sunday, a Sri Lankan holiday, so it was *packed*—mostly locals and very few white tourists! Even though it was crowded, it was cool because it was all Sri Lankans. We waited an hour for the train. It’s worth seeing, but honestly, I didn’t think it was that amazing.
Then we headed to the station to check if we needed to book tickets for the train to Haputale—turns out, no.
Monday, December 23rd: Beautiful weather. We hiked Ella Rock—a gorgeous trek. The final stretch is steep but shaded, so it wasn’t as tough as I’d read. The whole hike is stunning from start to finish. We saw the train pass twice (one blue, one red) and lots of women picking tea.
After that, we did Little Adam’s Peak. It’s not hard, but it was *packed* with tourists—meh. Luckily, at the top, you can walk a bit farther (down one side and back up) to get some space to yourself.
What I *didn’t* like was the commercial vibe at the big café/restaurant with a pool at the entrance of Little Adam’s Peak. Loud music, all that money being made right next to little souvenir stands run by Sri Lankans or tea-picking women. Felt off.
Ended the day buying souvenirs at one of the few shops we found during the trip.
Tuesday, December 24th: Beautiful weather. Took the train to Haputale. We got to the station 30 minutes before the 9:30 AM train. We could’ve taken 2nd or 3rd class—I went with 2nd (160 LKR per person).
It was crowded, but we managed to get seats—first 2, then 3. Only a 1-hour ride, but I *loved* it—windows and doors open the whole time.
Arrived in Haputale around 11 AM, and the mist was already rolling in.
We walked to our guesthouse, The Mist Holiday Bungalow. Simple but clean, with a great view of the tea plantations. The owner’s wife is Vietnamese and used to work for French tour operators, so her French is still pretty good—helpful for us since our English is terrible. They booked us a tuk-tuk for 4:45 AM the next day (2,000 LKR) to Lipton’s Seat.
Spent the afternoon wandering around Haputale. Not much charm, but there’s a nice fruit and veggie market and a short walk through the tea plantations.
Wednesday, December 25th: Beautiful weather. The tuk-tuk was on time to take us to Lipton’s Seat. We were the first ones there—the sky was just starting to turn pink. In the end, only about ten of us watched the sunrise. The guesthouse had packed us breakfast, and we walked back down (half on the road, half through the plantations). Didn’t see any tea picking since it was Christmas, but the walk was still incredible. We took detours through villages full of kids.
After that, we visited the tea factory. The tour was really interesting, and we took the bus back down to Haputale. Such a great moment—whole families were heading to mass, dressed up and made up. All so beautiful.
At noon, we left for Udawalawe National Park. Taxi for 14,000 LKR. Stayed at River Inn Safari Cottage. *Warning*: It’s the same place as Eagle Safari Cottage. I don’t recommend it. We’d always stayed with families before, but here it was just staff—totally different vibe. The pool was nice but not very clean (water was murky). The bungalow was big and fine, but it was brand new—so new the asphalt floor wasn’t fully dry. It’s in the middle of nowhere, so we had to eat on-site. Couldn’t leave a review on Booking because they never confirmed we’d stayed, and they canceled our reservation the next day.
Thursday, December 26th: Beautiful weather. I’d booked a safari through the hotel for 5:30–10 AM for 54 USD. Honestly, yes, there are a lot of jeeps, but it was great. The kids loved it—we saw everything there was to see.
Left by taxi at 11:30 AM for Welligama (12,000 LKR).
We didn’t stay in Welligama city but at Coconut Beach, between Welligama and Midigama. *Total crush* on the guesthouse: Sky Mountain Café with View. Such a lovely family. The mom makes amazing meals at reasonable prices. The view from the hill over the sea is unreal.
Spent the afternoon walking along the beach.
Friday, December 27th: Beautiful weather. My kids are surfers. Unfortunately, there weren’t any boards their size to rent at Coconut, so we took a tuk-tuk to Welligama Bay (1,000 LKR). They surfed from 8 AM to 5 PM—rental was 5,000 LKR for the day. Meanwhile, we walked the beach and swam. Water was 29°C.
Saturday, December 28th: Beautiful weather, rain from 4 PM until midnight. Same surf day. They were so well-behaved the whole trip, so this was their reward.
Sunday, December 29th: Beautiful weather. Beach day at Coconut. *Warning*: It’s a reef break. For surfers, there are three spots (Coconut Left, Middle, and Right). The boys bodysurfed (with fins) all morning, and at 1 PM, we took the bus to Hikkaduwa.
Stayed at Hotel Universal Beach. Nothing special—right on the water, but the rooms were dark even though they were clean. The manager was super nice, but the rest was meh, and breakfast was mediocre compared to what we’d had before (2 eggs and 3 slices of toast). Plus, it was late—8 AM.
First impression of Hikkaduwa wasn’t great—way too many Russians for our taste.
Monday, December 30th: Beautiful weather. Spent the whole day exploring. Turtle Beach, then the other side of the beach (toward Galle) near the fishing port. The beach there is much wider, with scattered hotels and super quiet. It’s beautiful—I should’ve booked somewhere in that area. Ended up having a great day away from the crowds.
Tuesday, December 31st: Overcast, then beautiful, rain at 4 PM. Had to end the year (and the trip) with some surf. Rented boards for the kids (3,000 LKR per board for the day). Bad luck—the waves were on a reef break but small. Not great for them, but no big deal. They still got out of the water by 2 PM. Walked the beach (which is gorgeous), had a juice, and went for a swim. Then back to surfing in the rain at 4 PM.
Wednesday, January 1st: Left by taxi at 5 AM (18,000 LKR). Flight at 10 AM. Arrived in Madrid at 8 PM.
I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).
So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!
We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice.
For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.
We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.
Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).
Day 1 – Paris to Lima
Foreword
I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.
Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).
Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.
As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.
Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.
Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
We did the Langtang trek (hike) from September 10th to 17th, with the first and last days being the trip from Kathmandu and back—so 6 days of actual walking. It’s a fairly well-known trek but certainly not as famous or crowded as those in the Annapurna or Everest regions, which is why we chose it.
In theory, it’s mandatory to have a guide for this trek. In reality, it seems there are ways to bypass the regulations: we met at least two people hiking without a guide—a South Korean, a New Zealander, and possibly also a couple of English women and an American couple, though we’re not sure if they had a guide.
The agency we booked with had told us it was an affordable trek for relatively older people in good shape—which is our case (I’m 72 myself). I have to say upfront that we found it quite challenging, maybe because we didn’t have good weather—it was the end of the monsoon season. To be clear, no matter your fitness level, I’d say doing this trek in the middle of the monsoon season would be suicidal.
Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi
On Monday, September 8th, there had been violent protests in Kathmandu against the government, which had, among other things, blocked access to social media and been accused of nepotism and corruption. There were 19 deaths. The situation was very tense on the day of our departure, Wednesday the 10th. The agency warned us that public transport was very unreliable. So, we decided to take a jeep, at an additional cost of $100 ($160 minus what was already budgeted for the bus).
We left a little before 7 a.m. and it took us a good hour just to reach the outskirts of Kathmandu. Along the way, we saw several houses and vehicles set on fire by protesters.
The road to Syapru Besi is only 120 km, but it’s frankly awful. It’s always narrow, winds through endless mountains, and the shoulders range from bad to confusing to nonexistent. Several sections are just dirt tracks. We didn’t regret opting for the jeep, as we could stop several times at our convenience—if only to let Y (my Thai partner) throw up everything she had. She’d taken her usual motion sickness medication, but the constant turns, accelerations, and braking eventually made her terribly carsick.
In Nuwakot, we stopped for breakfast at a nice little restaurant, Jimbu. It was around 8:30 a.m., and we’d barely covered 60 km. The restaurant has a lovely garden overlooking the Trishuli Ganga, the river flowing down from Syapru Besi. First photo: the river in the bottom right corner, mist and clouds over the mountain on the other side.
An hour later, my second photo: the hills along the Trishuli Ganga. You can see the different crops—lush green rice paddies in the lower right and corn, already yellowed and likely harvested, in the foreground on the left. And of course, the mist and clouds through which you can glimpse the mountain on the other side of the river.
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!
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Our first stop was just a few kilometers from Marrakech, at a lovely house perfect for relaxing and recharging before continuing. It’s called Bleu House, a little paradise on the outskirts of Marrakech. The welcome was very warm, with a beautiful pool and a lovely garden.
Next, we headed toward the Tichka Pass. The road has really improved in recent years—it’s much easier to drive now. No more getting stuck behind trucks, and today, the construction is practically finished.
Morocco has turned green after the recent rains. It’s a joy for the herds and shepherds.
I hesitated about writing this travel journal...
This summer, we only did the classics (the 3 northern parks and Zanzibar) and let a local agency take care of everything from start to finish.
No craziness, no risks, no sleeping under the stars, no self-drive, no venturing off the beaten path, no incidents, and not even any delays in the pre-planned itinerary...
But don’t think we were disappointed!
The whole family (there were 6 of us) came back with smiles and memories of great moments spent together.
So, if you're looking for a "classic" way to discover Tanzania, this is the place to be.
Our 2-week itinerary:
- Arusha (1 night upon arrival)
- Tarangire (1 night)
- Ngorongoro (2 nights in Karatu then Irmisigiyo)
- Serengeti (3 nights in Robanda, Togoro Plains, and Seronera)
- Zanzibar Stone Town (1 night)
- Zanzibar Matemwe (3 nights)
- Zanzibar Jambiani (3 nights)
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
It’s an ancient city that breathes, a living spring.
Here, no kitschy signs like “I miss you in Fengyu,” nor mass-produced fake antiques.
The century-old houses still bear the marks of wind and rain; in the morning, you hear roosters crowing, and at dusk, smoke gently rises from the kitchens.
This city doesn’t try to please anyone—like the spring water flowing through it, it simply keeps living at its own pace.
Located in Eryuan County, in the Dali Prefecture of Yunnan, the ancient town of Fengyu is a nationally designated historical and cultural city. It’s nicknamed the “land of scholars and ink”—during the Qing Dynasty, the Fengxiang Academy produced four *jinshi* and eleven *juren* in the imperial examinations. The Bai families made studying and farming a true legacy. Even on market days, you’ll find stalls of calligraphy and paintings, while lintels and screen walls are covered with family mottos.
Fengyu was also an important stop on the ancient Tea Horse Road. It preserves the second-largest Bai architectural complex in China, just after Xizhou. The famous traveler Xu Xiake spent seven days here and compared it to the “peach blossom paradise.”
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area).
In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
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.
Preamble:
Africa was calling to me, so a year ago, with our usual travel companions, we decided to return to the continent we love so much.
Where to go?
Uganda quickly caught our attention—wildlife we’re used to seeing, plus gorillas and the shoebill we missed in Zambia.
We got in touch with Paul, who’s been mentioned several times on the forum back in September, booked our flight tickets, secured the gorilla permits, and by early October, the most important things were done.
We still had plenty of time to hold our "prep meetings" for the final itinerary.
Three days before departure, I sprained my ankle (my weak spot, as you’ll recall from our Colombia trip).
I wasn’t in great spirits, but after a year of waiting, nothing was going to stop me.
We’d see how it goes!
Off we went for our new adventures
If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!
Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with:
Zero preparation.
Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.
Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?
The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!
The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.
So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!
So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!
It often happens that we're asked what to visit in Belgium.
And the answers usually point to Bruges, Ghent, Antwerp, and Brussels—and rightly so, as these cities are well worth visiting ;).
However, Belgium, though small, isn’t just limited to these four cities.
I live in one of them (Brussels), enjoy spending time in the other three, but I’d like to highlight some lesser-known spots that could add to the trip for those who want to see a bit more or something different.
Between trips, I like exploring one or two corners of the country where I live.
Hence the idea for a travel journal of walks.
Most of the places I’ll talk about can be visited as a day trip from Brussels, whether by public transport or car.
In chronological order of the topics covered:
- The Gileppe Dam (Liège province) - message 2, page 1
- The Domaine de La Hulpe (Walloon Brabant) - message 3, page 1
- Mechelen (Antwerp province) - message 4, page 1
- The coast - message 5, page 1
- The Westhoek, from De Panne - message 6, page 1
- The Zwin, from Knokke - message 7, page 1
- Lier (between Mechelen and Antwerp) - message 8, page 1
- Mons (Hainaut) - message 9, page 1
- The Florenville region - message 12, page 1
- The East Cantons - message 13, page 1
- Dinant - message 18, page 1
- The Japanese garden in Hasselt - message 24, page 2
- Leuven - message 29, page 2
- Louvain-la-Neuve - message 32, page 2
- Ostend - message 42 (page 3) and message 166 (page 9)
- The floralies of Groot-Bijgaarden - message 43, page 3
- Halle Forest - message 44, page 3
- Pralines - message 54, page 3
- Charleroi - message 68, page 4
- Namur - message 92, page 5
- Le Bois du Cazier (Marcinelle) - message 95, page 5
- Couques and gosettes - message 96, page 5
- Liège - message 99, page 5
- Tournai - message 115, page 6
- Oudenaarde - message 121, page 7
- Meise Botanical Garden - message 124, page 7
- Tongeren - message 125, page 7
- Beersel Castle (Flemish Brabant) - message 126, page 7
- Brussels in lockdown (messages 150 and 154, page 8)
- Notre-Dame à la Rose Hospital in Lessines (messages 161 and 162, page 9)
- Westende (message 167, page 9)
I’ll keep updating this list as the journal progresses...
This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rental options kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!
The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan?
Not in the end.
The south or not the south?
Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or go with the flow?
Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela about this destination (the guide has been updated since).
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You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek!
(Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
You’ll find here a post with some practical information.
And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.
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As a supplement, the route track.
Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...
We took off from Paris in the late afternoon on September 12 and arrived in Tashkent around 7:15 AM on the 13th.
This trip was the result of long contemplation and preparation (it was originally planned for the year of the lockdown (2020) and was prepared with the help and advice of Nasrullo Jumanov from Turquoise Travel.
Stages and Itinerary
Stage 1: Tashkent - September 13 and 14
Stage 2: Ferghana Valley – September 15 to 17
Stage 3: Nukus and Moynaq - September 18 and 19
Stage 4: Mysterious Khiva - September 20 to 22
Stage 5: Holy Bukhara - September 23 to 26
Stage 6: Asraf - September 27 and 28
Stage 7: Mythical Samarkand - September 29 to October 2
Stage 8: Tersak (via Shakhrisabz and Urgut) – October 3 and 4
Stage 9: Samarkand – October 5 and 6
Stage 10: Tashkent/Istanbul/Paris – October 6 and 7
Stage 1: Tashkent
September 13
At the airport exit, we were greeted by the owner of our B&B (B&B Gulnara).
Today was all about recovery and our first steps in the capital. Our first currency exchange made us feel like sudden millionaires.
Our first stroll down the avenue leading to Chorsu Market introduced us to the fact that 80 to 90% of the cars here are white Chevrolets.
A walk under the arcades facing Chorsu: hardware stores, cabinetmakers, lute makers (one of them gave me a little concert/demo of a few string instruments).
The drive to the airport feels long. The closer we get to Tashkent, the heavier the traffic becomes. We finally arrive at the airport with several hours to spare. Like at the train station, before entering the premises, we have to show our ticket and go through baggage control. Inside the terminal, we’re almost alone. Actually, there are very few domestic flights, and passengers only arrive at the last minute, just before boarding.
Full flight. On time. No issues.
Upon arrival, outside the airport, we’re met by a taxi driver who takes us to our hotel (Hotel Tashkent) without us having to ask.
MapsMe quickly puts us back on the right track. Luckily, it’s not far—about a 20-minute walk. This gives us a chance to explore a few streets in the city and pass by the Museum of Arts and Traditions of Karakalpakstan, which we’ll visit later.
There are so few people in front of the Fine Arts Museum, also known as the ‘Louvre of the Desert,’ that we think we’ve gotten the address wrong again. But no, this is the right place!
The market is huge. We’re looking for a spot to eat and stumble upon a pork butcher shop. Surprising! Then we find a little snack stand where they offer a whole selection of doughnuts (like hot dogs, but with doughnuts instead of bread) and savory pastries with veggies or meat. We make our choices and order some tea. We eat for about 1.7 € for two. Funny story: I left my cap on a chair, and one of the servers ran after us to return it. I think tonight we can treat ourselves to a nice little restaurant!
Afterward, we continue our walk toward the Museum of Arts and Traditions. Here, the museum is completely empty! No visitors at all! So much so that a guard follows us into every room. A bit overwhelming, honestly!
At the entrance, I ask if I can take photos. Still not with a camera. With my tablet? Yes? Okay. (I should’ve thought of that this morning! What an idiot I am!). Well, there’s not much to remember here. This museum isn’t a must-see, far from it!
At the exit, it’s really hot, and we decide to head back to the hotel for a cool break.
In the late afternoon, we decide to take a walk along the canal near the hotel toward an amusement park. We pass by a Ferris wheel under construction, but of the amusement park… all that’s left are a few ruined buildings.
At the end of the canal, on the other bank, is the Nukus Mosque. The walk is still pleasant, and it’s a popular spot for locals, young and old. We head back to the hotel in the late afternoon and debrief with Nasrullo: planning tomorrow’s day, which includes Moynaq, the Mizdakhan necropolis, and the 14th-century Mazloumkhan Sulu Mausoleum. We also agree on the meet-up time with our new driver, Javlon.
Today, we walked a lot and don’t feel like going out again to look for one of the restaurants Nasrullo recommended. So we opt for the hotel’s restaurant… Well, how can I put this? Not really the best choice! We’re the only customers. The menu is very limited. And the piece of boiled meat we’re served… found by chance in the middle of sheep fat. Oh well! We won’t make that mistake again, that’s for sure!
This once-thriving fishing port until the early 1960s declined with the disappearance of the Aral Sea. From that era, only a few stranded ships remain, a lighthouse on a cliff that once overlooked the sea (and now the desert), and a nostalgic museum that recalls this lost prosperity. A short film is shown, featuring almost miraculous fishing scenes and the bustling activity of the canneries.
The intensive cotton farming imposed by the USSR, requiring excessive irrigation, prevented the Amu Darya and Syr Darya rivers from feeding the Aral Sea, which quickly retreated from the coast until it nearly vanished. The shores are now 200 km from the port, and the sea continues to recede. Nasrullo will tell us a few days later that the yurt camp for tourists, which was on the shores of the sea just a year or two ago, is now 2 km from the water’s edge.
After wandering around the stranded ships, we had lunch in town. Then, we headed to the Mizdakhan Necropolis.
Another rough road for nearly 200 km.
Mizdakhan was once a large city on the banks of the Amu Darya. According to historians, it had over 12,000 suburbs. But it was destroyed by the Mongols, along with the Gaukala fortress.
An interesting visit in the late afternoon. A tourist-free site located 22 km from Nukus. The mausoleum is stunning!
This morning, we set off to visit the Nourallah Bey Palace outside the city, built about ten years before the Russian Revolution by Khan Ferouz. The palace is a mix of Uzbek tradition, modernism, and luxury imported from Saint Petersburg.
This visit isn’t a must-do, but it gives you a sense of the luxury surrounding the khan. Large, rather empty rooms, pretty tiled fireplaces, an octagonal hall with mirrors in every corner that creates a striking sense of grandeur—especially when you stand right in the middle.
This morning we meet up with Javlon again.
A long drive, mostly on roads in poor or even very poor condition, at least until we enter the desert.
We cross an agricultural region dominated by cotton and corn fields.
The desert crossing is marked by the bridge over the Amu Darya. This single-lane bridge is shared by all means of transport: cars, buses, trucks, motorcycles (rare), and even trains. Traffic alternates. Mandatory stop. To let vehicles coming from the opposite direction pass, but also to let the train go by. Here, the rails run right down the middle of the road.
After the bridge, we enter the desert. The road here is in pretty good shape. We stop to fill up on gas: as always, we have to get out of the car when entering the station. For safety reasons, all passengers must exit their vehicles. The driver parks next to the "gas pump" and an employee fills up the tank. Once the gas is paid for, the driver can get back in the vehicle and pick up passengers where he dropped them off.
Leaving the desert, we encounter construction everywhere: highway extensions or bridges under construction. The road open to traffic is in very poor condition. Javlon tells us all this work has been going on for over two years!
After about a 5.5-hour drive, we reach our destination, and Javlon parks in front of the "L’Oasis d’Hélène" hotel in Bukhara, where he can reunite with his wife, Lola, the hotel manager, and their son.
We’re lucky to be welcomed by Hélène and her cousin Suzanne. Hélène was the first Frenchwoman to invest in hospitality in Uzbekistan.
We take advantage of this warm welcome to get to know each other and discover that Hélène had lived in Toulouse (just 20 km from our place). What a small world!
We start the day at the Ismail Samani Mausoleum, a magnificent brick cube. It’s the second oldest mausoleum in the Muslim world. We walk through Samani Park and then the market. We taste *alva*, an Uzbek sweet, a kind of nougat made with sesame, pistachio, and almonds that reminds us of sweetened condensed milk.
Next, we visit the Ark of Bukhara (Aka), the Emir’s residence, other madrasas and mosques around Registan Square, and the trading domes where artisans and merchants are set up. We discover the work of knife makers there. We also climb the iron tower (their Eiffel Tower) for a panoramic view of the city and its signposts (Paris, Rome, etc.) that make us look toward the horizon. The city is full of splendors. It’s impossible to list them all: Maghoki Attari Mosque, Ulugbek and Abdulazizkhan Madrasas, the Poi Kalon complex with its minaret from which condemned prisoners were thrown alive. Registan Square is very lively, and many people are working to transform it into a huge "dojo." Unfortunately, our young guide doesn’t know what’s being prepared. We’ll come back to see it at the end of the day!
Today, there’s a constant stream of people in front of his statue (you can still see the copper coin between his fingers), where Uzbeks come to pose and also pet the donkey’s ears.
But in front of the madrasa, in the park and around the basin, there’s also a parade of newlyweds. We amused ourselves by commenting on what we saw until a man sitting next to us on the bench joined our conversation. In perfect French, he told us how much he enjoyed speaking French with us—he used to be a driver for a travel agency. He explained the weddings and their exorbitant cost. So much so that imams are calling on Uzbek families to be more moderate because they go deeply into debt to throw a beautiful party for the newlyweds and display beautiful clothes for the guests. To give us an idea, he said it’s common to invite 400, 500, or even more people to a wedding, and it costs $6,000 to $9,000!
At nightfall, we went to see the sports competition on Registan Square. A lot of people and a passionate crowd! The entrance is controlled, but they let us through. So we ended up in the middle of the teams of fighters cheering on their teammates on the tatami mats.
Javlon, his excellent plov with red rice in the works, and his friends
We then set off for a walk around the village with one of the family’s men. The village, home to about 26 families, is very spread out. We take around 2h30 to circle it.
We continue our stroll to the Samarkand market, just nearby. There, we run into some of the Swiss group members one last time—the lady comes over to chat and once again laments how short her trip was.
After a few purchases, we extend our walk to the mausoleum of the first Uzbek President. Beautiful view of the Bibi Khanum Mosque.
On the way back, between the mosque and Registan Square, we stop at a lovely artisan space (an old caravanserai?) where we discover some great shops.
In the early afternoon, we resume our visits and head toward the Gur Emir Mausoleum (or Tamerlane’s Mausoleum) via small alleys. Along the way, a young woman stops us—she wants to know where we’re from, our names, our jobs, our ages, etc. She tells us she’s an English teacher and is honored we took the time to answer her questions. Right after, she invites us to her home but understands we want to visit the mausoleum first. So, she points out her house door and suggests we stop by on our way back.
Our driver
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those stunning doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a touch of saffron, and occasionally rosewater.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (during the week and daytime; colors are more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you’ll see some men dressed in Western clothes, they’re very few. The white dishdasha is truly the shared attire of all men. The dishdasha, which has no hood, is distinguished by a small pom-pom attached to the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go overboard with it! "It smells like the pom-pom" is an expression that’s now part of our shared language, my husband and I.
Another must of men’s attire is the kuma, a small round head covering, usually white with brightly colored patterns. The keffiyeh is also worn (but without the cord called an agal in Arab countries), and it’s mostly worn by those with roots in the desert, from what I understood.
And what about the women, you might ask? Some are veiled, some in full black (but not a burka—more like a chador + abaya), due to the influence of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, whereas the traditional outfit used to be a layering of very colorful dresses. Most of the women we saw wore neutral clothing, a plain veil over their hair, but with their faces uncovered. We also saw many saris and colorful veils—don’t forget that 40% of the population consists of Indian, Nepalese, and Bangladeshi immigrants, who work a lot in tourism, hospitality, restaurants, services, and construction.
Just to clarify, as a tourist, there’s no pressure to wear a veil, and never any disapproving looks. Of course, you’ll save the mini shorts, plunging necklines, bare shoulders, and midriffs for the hotel terrace—but I’d say that’s the same for men and women, and with the sun being strong, it’s better for your skin too.
Here’s the introduction! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
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.
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
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:
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.
A little sneak peek?
