Introduction:
As has become a habit, I’ve organized a trip for late October—a surprise trip for my poor wife, who follows along without saying much (or almost nothing).
She knows she’s going away, when, but not where!
Our friends and family keep bombarding me with questions to get the info, but I’m holding strong.
The guesses are flying, the best one being, “Knowing him, he’s definitely heading somewhere sunny, even if all the southern destinations have already been done for a short stay.”
It makes me laugh because there are still a few places I haven’t discovered yet.
So yes, choosing to go to Belgium at the end of October—especially for someone as sensitive to the cold as I am—is bold.
I’m not quite at Philippe Abrams’ level, but still, heading *Noooorth* from me is pretty daring.
So, contrary to my friends’ predictions, I’m not flying south but taking my car, turning the wheel north, and off we go!
Day 1: The outbound trip When I say I’m not flying, it’s only half true because we’re leaving the day French media—with their signature doom-and-gloom—announce a terrible storm. While Storm Austen is indeed forecasted, the Belgians are reporting it as the first storm of the year with a bit more restraint. The drive won’t be entirely smooth as we reach the Hauts-de-France region: the wind is strong, the rain is heavy, but it’s not the apocalypse. Just drive carefully and slow down—sounds like a road safety message! We left Lyon at 8 AM and arrived in Bruges at 4 PM, “...and that’s even with the trucks at the entrance to Angoulême!” What’s he talking about—going through Angoulême? French cinephiles will get the reference. We got a warm welcome at our B&B, and since it was barely drizzling, we took a quick stroll around town to stretch our legs. Headed to the Markt, visited the Prinsenhof, the Palace of the Dukes of Flanders. We actually went in because it started pouring. It’s free, a first taste of Flemish culture, and it’s great.

A little tired, we headed back to our B&B, mostly because the heavy rain forced us to. We got soaked (some people must be laughing). After drying off, we went to the nearest restaurant, Parazzar, typically Bruges-style, and my wife tried her first beer. Personally, I don’t like beer—*What the heck was I thinking?*—so I had a red wine, a Tinto, which would’ve been local back in Charles V’s time. First fries—because I *love* them—and it’s time to call it a night. A good night’s sleep awaits.
The +: We made it! The -: It’s raining, it’s windy, it’s wet—party at the...
Day 1: The outbound trip When I say I’m not flying, it’s only half true because we’re leaving the day French media—with their signature doom-and-gloom—announce a terrible storm. While Storm Austen is indeed forecasted, the Belgians are reporting it as the first storm of the year with a bit more restraint. The drive won’t be entirely smooth as we reach the Hauts-de-France region: the wind is strong, the rain is heavy, but it’s not the apocalypse. Just drive carefully and slow down—sounds like a road safety message! We left Lyon at 8 AM and arrived in Bruges at 4 PM, “...and that’s even with the trucks at the entrance to Angoulême!” What’s he talking about—going through Angoulême? French cinephiles will get the reference. We got a warm welcome at our B&B, and since it was barely drizzling, we took a quick stroll around town to stretch our legs. Headed to the Markt, visited the Prinsenhof, the Palace of the Dukes of Flanders. We actually went in because it started pouring. It’s free, a first taste of Flemish culture, and it’s great.

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

Some are completely bare now, and even though the road is still stunning, it doesn’t give us the same “Wow” as on the way there. That doesn’t stop us from stopping to take more photos—some spots are still absolutely gorgeous.


DD is thrilled to leave the dirt road for the asphalt of the West Elk byway. We drive alongside a nearly dry dam for kilometers, with the river reduced to a tiny stream.
Seeing the distance between the two banks, you can’t help but worry about the drought. This road is breathtaking, winding between mountains and valleys.
It offers us even more stunning views after Mac Clure Summit—a beautiful mosaic of greens and yellows that would make any painter envious!
Quick stop at Hayes Creek Falls (right by the road).
On the other side of the Crystal River.

The back of the ovens
The coal from the surrounding mountains was ideal for turning into coke, but less than 10 years later, the mines closed (I won’t tell you why because I don’t know!!), and the ovens fell into disuse.
Many deteriorated, others were looted, but 90 ovens are still relatively intact, and some have been restored to their early 20th-century state to preserve the memory of a time when life was incredibly tough for both people and animals.
When in operation, the ovens were surrounded by stones like this





and the famous large hot springs pools the town is known for.
I’d kind of planned to spend a few hours there the next day, but seeing the crowds from the bridge, we decide to skip it and visit a small state park about 45 km north of the city instead.
A little more nature will be welcome to enjoy our last few days.
After that, some relaxation in the hot tub before dinner.





The master of the place (a face appeared when we looked at the photos).
And two small ponds.
Before reaching the top of the falls, where viewpoints are set up so we can see them from different angles.
We return downhill via a trail reinforced with wooden steps. This little walk is easier in a counterclockwise direction, and the place is really worth the trip.
but didn’t stop—our failed Telluride experience left us a bit cold about towns that are too fancy for us. We spotted a whole flock of geese on a golf course, likely stopping over during their long migration. Too bad they weren’t in flight.
We found those lovely autumn colors again on the pretty, narrow road leading to the pass.



We didn’t go down into the valley to explore—just admired it from the viewpoint.

and took in the surrounding peaks
before continuing toward Twin Lakes

The road continues along the Arkansas River through valleys and plains with large herds, ranches, and old barns.
Leadville, where you can see the charming chaos of this former mining town and its historic buildings.
We tackle Fremont Pass and its gently sloping mountains before hitting I-70.
By 2 p.m., we’re in Georgetown.
Honestly, taking this route to get to Georgetown was a great choice, even if it was longer. This beautiful state of Colorado gave us one last gift by offering us stunning landscapes once again.
A quick visit to this cute little town, with lovely buildings—maybe a bit too quiet (I love seeing the younger generations wandering around!!!).

Not many Halloween decorations yet, except at the tourist attraction Georgetown Loop Railroad.
Help, I’m being attacked by a skeleton!
The suitcases are packed, last dip in the hot tub before walking to dinner at the friendly and delicious Cooper’s on the Creek, and now we’re ready for our last night in Colorado 😢
and look for a spot to walk around downtown since we see lots of houses decorated for Halloween. The big kids we are just love it!!!!






I looked for the apocalyptic murals inside the airport (we’d seen them on our last trip), but since it was under construction, they weren’t visible, and all I found were some gargoyles.
























































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.

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














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
















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









