The Bridge
We only stayed in Mandalay for the day to see what there was to see. Around 11 PM, we got back in the car for another nighttime drive to Bagan, which shouldn’t take more than 5-6 hours if we don’t break down (I’m hopeful). That’d get us there nice and early. Just enough time to drop our bags at a guesthouse, freshen up, and we’d be at the pagodas first thing—perfect morning light for great photos. By then, we’d be on our second night in a row without sleeping in a bed, and after rushing through Mandalay and its surroundings, we’re exhausted. The "room" setup was the same as always: one girl (the same one) up front, two girls on the back benches, and the two guys and the fourth girl on the floor between them. Despite the discomfort—thanks to the road conditions—we fell asleep easily.
The engine noise and bumps stopping woke me up: we weren’t moving. I stayed still, waiting to see what happened next. Straining my ears, I heard Sonny talking to unfamiliar voices. I sat up and looked: the cops. Their conversation dragged on, which wasn’t a good sign. I got out, head spinning, to find out what was going on. Before I even spoke, I caught a glimpse of the problem: we had a bridge to cross, but its access was blocked by a barrier the officers seemed to be guarding. Annoying, because in the police (like in the military), they never assign this kind of job to the brightest. Sonny told me the barrier wouldn’t open until 6 AM. I checked my watch: it was 1 AM... I tried striking up a conversation with the one who seemed to be in charge, but his response was to ask for my passport. Could he read anything other than Burmese? I doubted it. Meanwhile, my passengers had woken up and were all visible. I expected him to ask what a group of six tourists was doing out this late in a vehicle that wasn’t even officially authorized for this—he probably already guessed the answer, and it spelled trouble for us, especially Sonny and me.
But no, he handed my passport back. Okay...
Still, we were stuck there, and that wasn’t good for me—first, because he wasn’t saying anything about us waiting five hours in the middle of nowhere with sketchy company, and second, because it’d make us arrive in Bagan much later, at the worst time of day. And there were other photographers in the group.
Conclusion: I had to try psychology, my way...
I went to the car and quietly took a pack of cigarettes from my bag, opening it and emptying three-quarters of its contents. It was the brand with the cowboy—one pack costs a Burmese the equivalent of about four days’ salary at the official exchange rate.
In front of everyone, I offered a cigarette to Sonny, the driver, and each of my passengers.
"No, thanks, I don’t smoke," the first one declined.
"Yes, today you’re all smoking! Take one, light it, and look relaxed."
But since I’d made sure there were only five cigarettes left in the pack, there weren’t enough.
"Oh darn, I’m out," I said, faking disappointment as I showed the empty pack to everyone—including the cops, who were watching the whole scene. But since "they were on duty," I hadn’t offered them any...
I went back to my bag, took it out of the car, and reached in, pulling out—oops—two packs by accident. One was extra, so I offered it to Sonny like I was being generous rather than bothering to put the pack back. I finished handing them out to the passengers who hadn’t gotten one yet. I watched, amused, as they pretended to smoke—it was funny.
Then I gestured to the driver.
"You want a pack too?"
Of course he did—he’d smoke it or sell it. I reached into my bag again, this time pulling out the whole carton in full view of everyone, took one pack out, and gave it to him.
We kept smoking casually, chatting among ourselves and showing no impatience. The cops watched. After a while, I gestured:
"Want one?"
The chief said yes, and the others followed. I handed them out, saying,
"I really like this brand—do you?"
Sonny translated; the answer was positive.
"I got them for a good price at Bangkok Airport. They’re expensive here, right?" (I was being diabolical...)
The answer was *very* positive this time.
Then I looked at the lowered barrier, clearly annoyed, then at the carton of cigarettes, then at them.
"Want a pack?"
The question was unnecessary. I dug into my bag, found the second carton, and gave them two packs each.
The chief signaled to one of his guys, the barrier lifted, we got back in the car, and we were off.
February 9 - Day 1
"So, my little wanderers, back at the decks? What’s this mystery destination you’ve got in store for us at the start of the year?"
Yes, the schoolyard bell’s ringing again! We’re hitting the road... or rather, the skies! At first glance, our destination might surprise more than a few. First off, simply because I was here exactly twenty years ago, and I don’t usually like retracing my own footsteps. Secondly, because the name of this place screams mass tourism—basically the opposite of what Flo and I look for.
Despite that, in this land of backsheesh, I’d promised myself I’d come back one day to experience it my way. And since Flo told me, during our wanderer chats, that this destination straddling Africa and the Middle East was in her top 2 travel dreams, the stars aligned for this roots-style trip to quickly make it onto our pharaonic festivities program! Unless you’re totally clueless in general knowledge, you’ve probably guessed by now—we’re off to Egypt! Of course, a few classics will be on our itinerary, but above all, we want to soak up a culture that can’t be appreciated in four-star resorts or on a Nile cruise boat. And let’s be clear, these next two weeks won’t be a walk in the park—neither for our two daughters who are joining us, nor for our bodies!
And that’s clear from the get-go: after our first flight, eight hours of trying (and failing) to sleep on Milan airport’s metal seats, our second flight, landing, passport stamps, our Uber ride, and our first Cairo kilometers, we finally drop our exhaustion at the little guesthouse we booked in Giza. Doesn’t all that energy deserve a little reward?
Oh, absolutely! And here it is: a full-on slap in the face for everyone! But just look at this view from our hotel terrace? For 20 € a night for four, even with this incredible view, I figured the room must be pretty shabby, right? Nope... Is the staff rude, then? Nope... Okay, so what’s the catch? You’re gonna tell me breakfast is included too? Well, yes! Honestly, this Egypt trip is off to a great start.

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




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


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



https://voyageforum.com/images/posts/small/1789072399-cCyLDYuFwPLAZTY.jpg
"So, my little wanderers, back at the decks? What’s this mystery destination you’ve got in store for us at the start of the year?"
Yes, the schoolyard bell’s ringing again! We’re hitting the road... or rather, the skies! At first glance, our destination might surprise more than a few. First off, simply because I was here exactly twenty years ago, and I don’t usually like retracing my own footsteps. Secondly, because the name of this place screams mass tourism—basically the opposite of what Flo and I look for.
Despite that, in this land of backsheesh, I’d promised myself I’d come back one day to experience it my way. And since Flo told me, during our wanderer chats, that this destination straddling Africa and the Middle East was in her top 2 travel dreams, the stars aligned for this roots-style trip to quickly make it onto our pharaonic festivities program! Unless you’re totally clueless in general knowledge, you’ve probably guessed by now—we’re off to Egypt! Of course, a few classics will be on our itinerary, but above all, we want to soak up a culture that can’t be appreciated in four-star resorts or on a Nile cruise boat. And let’s be clear, these next two weeks won’t be a walk in the park—neither for our two daughters who are joining us, nor for our bodies!
And that’s clear from the get-go: after our first flight, eight hours of trying (and failing) to sleep on Milan airport’s metal seats, our second flight, landing, passport stamps, our Uber ride, and our first Cairo kilometers, we finally drop our exhaustion at the little guesthouse we booked in Giza. Doesn’t all that energy deserve a little reward?
Oh, absolutely! And here it is: a full-on slap in the face for everyone! But just look at this view from our hotel terrace? For 20 € a night for four, even with this incredible view, I figured the room must be pretty shabby, right? Nope... Is the staff rude, then? Nope... Okay, so what’s the catch? You’re gonna tell me breakfast is included too? Well, yes! Honestly, this Egypt trip is off to a great start.

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




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


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



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

I used the fabrics to make cushions.
Ultra-thin and flexible bowl, traditional technique: frame made of thin bamboo strips, woven horsehair covered with genuine lacquer (tree resin), decorated with gold leaf.
Traditional lacquered and carved wicker lunchbox used to carry meals. And a woven ball for the popular game called *takraw* in Thailand.


































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...











Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.