Costa Rica: The dry season isn't what it used to be!
by Ellobo
Translated into English.
Original post
Introduction:
For years, I’ve heard about Costa Rica, which seems like a country "made for me"—nature, not cities.
I almost went in 2019, but a family issue made me cancel.
Initially, I wanted to spend at least three weeks there, planning to go in our summer despite it being the rainy season. Then I realized what I wanted to do could fit into two weeks, so I ended up going in February.
Plus, January’s weather was so awful that some sunshine should do me good.
I found a flight at a decent price, but with two downsides.
The first is that it leaves from Paris CDG, and the second is that it’s with Air France—a airline I’d sworn off after my misadventures with them back in 2008. We’ll see how it goes!
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
I’d thought about going in our summer, despite it being the rainy season
Hi there,
I’ve spent two months in every Central American country (except Honduras, where I’ve never set foot) always in July and August (the last two countries I visited were Guatemala in 2025 and El Salvador in 2024), and I’ve never been bothered by the rain. If it rains, it’s not every day or all day—it’s mostly in the late afternoon and evening, but the downpours are heavy, so it’s best to be sheltered.
These days, the climate is so unpredictable that weather stats don’t mean much anymore.
A few days ago, I was in northern and central Tunisia, where daytime temperatures were almost summer-like, even though just days before there had been flooding and it was cold.
In July, I’m heading to South Korea—it’s typhoon season, but I’ll see how it goes. I’m not too worried about it...
Hi there,
I’ve spent two months in every Central American country (except Honduras, where I’ve never set foot) always in July and August (the last two countries I visited were Guatemala in 2025 and El Salvador in 2024), and I’ve never been bothered by the rain. If it rains, it’s not every day or all day—it’s mostly in the late afternoon and evening, but the downpours are heavy, so it’s best to be sheltered.
These days, the climate is so unpredictable that weather stats don’t mean much anymore.
A few days ago, I was in northern and central Tunisia, where daytime temperatures were almost summer-like, even though just days before there had been flooding and it was cold.
In July, I’m heading to South Korea—it’s typhoon season, but I’ll see how it goes. I’m not too worried about it...
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
Day 1:
Work finished at 5:30 PM. Home by 6 PM and left for Melun at 6:30 PM.
Since our flight was the next day at 1:15 PM, I played it safe. We left the day before, spent the night in a hotel after a 3.5-hour drive, and at least we avoided getting up at 3 AM.
It’s a bit hectic, but that way, the vacation starts sooner.
The +: We’re on our way! The -: A bit of a rush after work
Day 2: Ibis Style Hotel in Melun: great for what we needed. Excellent breakfast.
Smooth drive to CDG. Parking near the airport, shuttle, check-in all automatic with Air France, but as the employee there to help the poor passengers told me: "The machines are starting to get old and break down one after the other." We left on time, but the captain already announced a 1-hour delay because the air corridor had changed!!! We waited almost three hours into the flight before the famous champagne aperitif arrived (so 4:15 PM French time). Except, by the time it got to me, there was no champagne left (no, I’m not exaggerating). Seeing my disappointed face, they managed to find a few centiliters for me. Finally, the meal arrived, and luckily, one of the two options was something I could eat. Since I’m lactose intolerant, I had checked beforehand if, like on many other airlines, there was a lactose-free meal. Well, no—for Air France, that doesn’t exist unless you order (which I found out later) a vegan meal!!!!! No, I’m allergic to lactose, not meat or everything else. The flight went smoothly; I switched between movies and tracking our flight. Then, near the American coast, I saw our plane make a loop before heading in the right direction. A moment of doubt: we weren’t going to turn back, when Boston was right there, next to us. Later, the captain told us there was no air corridor planned for our flight!!! That’s what happens when you take smaller airlines (Stop criticizing!). We arrived in San José with a 1.5-hour delay. But that’s not all! We stayed on the plane for 30 minutes because the jet bridge couldn’t be set up. Nothing was ready for our plane. We still got off using a rickety jet bridge held up at the bottom by a bunch of *ticos*. Immigration took a while because three big planes arrived at the same time. So, our luggage was already there and even taken off the carousel. I had booked a shuttle, but we had to wait for other passengers again. PURA VIDA. Finally, we made it to the hotel, took a nice shower, and crashed.
The +: We arrived! The -: Air travel (I’m not too harsh on the airline, but still…)
The +: We’re on our way! The -: A bit of a rush after work
Day 2: Ibis Style Hotel in Melun: great for what we needed. Excellent breakfast.
Smooth drive to CDG. Parking near the airport, shuttle, check-in all automatic with Air France, but as the employee there to help the poor passengers told me: "The machines are starting to get old and break down one after the other." We left on time, but the captain already announced a 1-hour delay because the air corridor had changed!!! We waited almost three hours into the flight before the famous champagne aperitif arrived (so 4:15 PM French time). Except, by the time it got to me, there was no champagne left (no, I’m not exaggerating). Seeing my disappointed face, they managed to find a few centiliters for me. Finally, the meal arrived, and luckily, one of the two options was something I could eat. Since I’m lactose intolerant, I had checked beforehand if, like on many other airlines, there was a lactose-free meal. Well, no—for Air France, that doesn’t exist unless you order (which I found out later) a vegan meal!!!!! No, I’m allergic to lactose, not meat or everything else. The flight went smoothly; I switched between movies and tracking our flight. Then, near the American coast, I saw our plane make a loop before heading in the right direction. A moment of doubt: we weren’t going to turn back, when Boston was right there, next to us. Later, the captain told us there was no air corridor planned for our flight!!! That’s what happens when you take smaller airlines (Stop criticizing!). We arrived in San José with a 1.5-hour delay. But that’s not all! We stayed on the plane for 30 minutes because the jet bridge couldn’t be set up. Nothing was ready for our plane. We still got off using a rickety jet bridge held up at the bottom by a bunch of *ticos*. Immigration took a while because three big planes arrived at the same time. So, our luggage was already there and even taken off the carousel. I had booked a shuttle, but we had to wait for other passengers again. PURA VIDA. Finally, we made it to the hotel, took a nice shower, and crashed.
The +: We arrived! The -: Air travel (I’m not too harsh on the airline, but still…)
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Good evening Jean-Pascal,
I have a flight with Air France in a few days, and I must say I’m really happy I chose them over the Middle Eastern airlines 😊.
Never had any issues with them, but maybe I’m just lucky!
Christelle
Le monde est comme un miroir, si tu lui souris, il te sourit aussi!
I have a flight with Air France in a few days and I must say I’m really happy I chose them over Middle Eastern airlines 😊.
Never had any issues with them
Hi there,
Same for me—I’ve never had any issues with Air France. For Korea, I ended up going with Lufthansa because it was cheaper, but otherwise, Air France would’ve been my pick.
If you were flying with a Middle Eastern airline in a few days, you’d be stressing out about both the outbound and return flights...
Hi there,
Same for me—I’ve never had any issues with Air France. For Korea, I ended up going with Lufthansa because it was cheaper, but otherwise, Air France would’ve been my pick.
If you were flying with a Middle Eastern airline in a few days, you’d be stressing out about both the outbound and return flights...
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
Hi Jean-Pascal,
I went to Costa Rica in February 2012 (so not exactly recent): With an American airline (I can’t remember if it was Delta or American Airlines)—not great at all. During the so-called dry season: we had quite a bit of rain, especially on the east coast where it poured non-stop for over 48 hours. It wasn’t just late-afternoon showers 🏴☠️. That definitely contributed (though not entirely) to a pretty disappointing memory of the trip.
Looking forward to hearing your thoughts 😉
I went to Costa Rica in February 2012 (so not exactly recent): With an American airline (I can’t remember if it was Delta or American Airlines)—not great at all. During the so-called dry season: we had quite a bit of rain, especially on the east coast where it poured non-stop for over 48 hours. It wasn’t just late-afternoon showers 🏴☠️. That definitely contributed (though not entirely) to a pretty disappointing memory of the trip.
Looking forward to hearing your thoughts 😉
Si tu diffères de moi, mon frère, loin de me léser, tu m'enrichis (Saint Exupéry)
Hi there,
I completely agree that every airline has its flaws. That’s not what this post is about, thankfully, but it’s part of my travel experience.
But with Air France, it’s *always* the same issues—that’s why I’m bringing it up.
More to come...
See ya,
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Day 3:
Hotel: Chez Pierre Détente from the ToutCostaRica network. Simple but just right for the first night.
Classic Costa Rican breakfast: fruit, rice, eggs, beans, coffee.
We get a debrief from ToutCostaRica, which is really helpful. My rental 4x4 is delivered to the hotel, and I’m given a SIM card so I can use Waze. Off we go! Heading to Volcán Poás (booked online just before leaving). When we arrive at the parking lot, we start walking toward the volcano, but unfortunately, it’s completely fogged in. We can’t see a thing. We keep walking toward the lagoon, and it’s the same—totally fogged in. Bad luck, we won’t get to see it! We arrived at the time recommended by the guides, but no dice. I knew this happened often, but at the hotel, they’d said the visibility was good… Off to La Fortuna. They’d told me it’d take about 2.5 hours. We stop at a *soda* (roadside eatery—name?) along the way. These cheap little roadside restaurants are amazing! It’s just home cooking—simple but delicious. You’ve got to try the *casado*, a hearty plate with rice, beans, plantains, salad, sometimes potatoes, and a choice of meat or fish. It costs next to nothing! We leave at 2:30 PM, figuring we’ll arrive by 5:30 PM since I’d budgeted extra time. But I hadn’t counted on the insane traffic (and no, it’s not the drivers who are crazy—it’s the traffic itself!). I’ll talk more about Costa Rican driving in my wrap-up. Anyway, we finally roll into La Fortuna at 7 PM. Rain pretty much followed us the whole way! I’d taken ToutCostaRica’s advice to heart from day one: *never drive at night!* Check-in, then straight to a restaurant (El Novillo del Arenal)—great food, especially the meat (oh, and look at that—you’re still driving at night!). Then bed.
**Highlights:** The first *soda* **Lowlights:** Traffic jams (the car kind, not the wine kind) and the weather.
Day 4: Early wake-up call—no surprise there! Everything’s overcast. In theory, the hotel has a stunning view of Volcán Arenal, but we can’t see 50 meters ahead! Breakfast is decent, with the added entertainment of a coati coming by for a snack. There are several hikes around the volcano to choose from. I ultimately go with the national park because, according to the locals, even though it’s fogged in, the hike is still nice. Arenal 68 or the mirador are better for views, but today, there’s no view to be had! Sure enough, if you don’t mind mud, the hike is great. We spot coatis, all kinds of birds (including great curassows), and often have the trail to ourselves. The loop takes us to a viewpoint overlooking a lava flow. If you can see the flow, you still can’t see much else. On the way back, we finally spot our first toucans—from a distance. When we get to the car, it starts pouring (just like in Norway last summer!), even though it was just drizzling under the trees. We grab a bite at a nearby *soda* (Soda La Palma), and once again, it’s delicious. Next up: Peninsula, since the same ticket for Arenal National Park covers it. The rain hasn’t let up since earlier. It’s not too heavy yet, and the planned hike is mostly under trees, so we go for it. More birds here—my neck’s starting to hurt from looking up all the time! When we reach the end, there’s the famous lake, barely visible. Of course, that’s when the downpour starts. It won’t stop until around 11 AM the next day (or rather, when we leave La Fortuna). Quick dash back to the car. We’ve got 3 km of dirt road before we hit the main road. That’s when we see three soaked French women walking, hoping to find an Uber. We squeeze them into our little car and drop them off near their hotel. Poor things—they were in for a rough time. End of the afternoon and evening in the hotel room. PERFECT! Dinner at a restaurant (Que Rico). The food is high quality, but we picked a bad night—two big groups, one French and one American, showed up, and it got loud. The older crowd at the table next to us didn’t help! So we made a quick exit back to the hotel and called it a night.
**Highlights:** We did a good deed! **Lowlights:** The weather…
We get a debrief from ToutCostaRica, which is really helpful. My rental 4x4 is delivered to the hotel, and I’m given a SIM card so I can use Waze. Off we go! Heading to Volcán Poás (booked online just before leaving). When we arrive at the parking lot, we start walking toward the volcano, but unfortunately, it’s completely fogged in. We can’t see a thing. We keep walking toward the lagoon, and it’s the same—totally fogged in. Bad luck, we won’t get to see it! We arrived at the time recommended by the guides, but no dice. I knew this happened often, but at the hotel, they’d said the visibility was good… Off to La Fortuna. They’d told me it’d take about 2.5 hours. We stop at a *soda* (roadside eatery—name?) along the way. These cheap little roadside restaurants are amazing! It’s just home cooking—simple but delicious. You’ve got to try the *casado*, a hearty plate with rice, beans, plantains, salad, sometimes potatoes, and a choice of meat or fish. It costs next to nothing! We leave at 2:30 PM, figuring we’ll arrive by 5:30 PM since I’d budgeted extra time. But I hadn’t counted on the insane traffic (and no, it’s not the drivers who are crazy—it’s the traffic itself!). I’ll talk more about Costa Rican driving in my wrap-up. Anyway, we finally roll into La Fortuna at 7 PM. Rain pretty much followed us the whole way! I’d taken ToutCostaRica’s advice to heart from day one: *never drive at night!* Check-in, then straight to a restaurant (El Novillo del Arenal)—great food, especially the meat (oh, and look at that—you’re still driving at night!). Then bed.
**Highlights:** The first *soda* **Lowlights:** Traffic jams (the car kind, not the wine kind) and the weather.
Day 4: Early wake-up call—no surprise there! Everything’s overcast. In theory, the hotel has a stunning view of Volcán Arenal, but we can’t see 50 meters ahead! Breakfast is decent, with the added entertainment of a coati coming by for a snack. There are several hikes around the volcano to choose from. I ultimately go with the national park because, according to the locals, even though it’s fogged in, the hike is still nice. Arenal 68 or the mirador are better for views, but today, there’s no view to be had! Sure enough, if you don’t mind mud, the hike is great. We spot coatis, all kinds of birds (including great curassows), and often have the trail to ourselves. The loop takes us to a viewpoint overlooking a lava flow. If you can see the flow, you still can’t see much else. On the way back, we finally spot our first toucans—from a distance. When we get to the car, it starts pouring (just like in Norway last summer!), even though it was just drizzling under the trees. We grab a bite at a nearby *soda* (Soda La Palma), and once again, it’s delicious. Next up: Peninsula, since the same ticket for Arenal National Park covers it. The rain hasn’t let up since earlier. It’s not too heavy yet, and the planned hike is mostly under trees, so we go for it. More birds here—my neck’s starting to hurt from looking up all the time! When we reach the end, there’s the famous lake, barely visible. Of course, that’s when the downpour starts. It won’t stop until around 11 AM the next day (or rather, when we leave La Fortuna). Quick dash back to the car. We’ve got 3 km of dirt road before we hit the main road. That’s when we see three soaked French women walking, hoping to find an Uber. We squeeze them into our little car and drop them off near their hotel. Poor things—they were in for a rough time. End of the afternoon and evening in the hotel room. PERFECT! Dinner at a restaurant (Que Rico). The food is high quality, but we picked a bad night—two big groups, one French and one American, showed up, and it got loud. The older crowd at the table next to us didn’t help! So we made a quick exit back to the hotel and called it a night.
**Highlights:** We did a good deed! **Lowlights:** The weather…
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Except that, by the time it got to me, there was no more champagne (no, I’m not exaggerating). Seeing my disappointed face, they managed to find a few centiliters for me.
Sometimes you just don’t get lucky—it happens
There was supposed to be a lactose-free meal. And no, for Air France, that doesn’t exist unless you order (I found out later) a vegan meal!!!!!
If they had to make a meal for every type of allergy...
Our captain later told us there was no planned air corridor for our flight!!!
An Air France captain saying that? Weird. What does that even mean, exactly?
Sometimes you just don’t get lucky—it happens
There was supposed to be a lactose-free meal. And no, for Air France, that doesn’t exist unless you order (I found out later) a vegan meal!!!!!
If they had to make a meal for every type of allergy...
Our captain later told us there was no planned air corridor for our flight!!!
An Air France captain saying that? Weird. What does that even mean, exactly?
Hi Jean-Michel,
If they had to prepare a meal for every type of allergy...
I think I travel quite a bit—I’ve flown with I don’t even know how many airlines—and this is the only one that doesn’t take this (fairly common) allergy into account. (Even Rwandair gets criticized for it in another post!) I knew someone allergic to caviar, so if Air France doesn’t account for that, I get it (seriously!)
An Air France captain speaking like that? Weird. What does that actually mean?
When we arrived in San José, explaining that we had to wait before disembarking because the jet bridge wasn’t suitable, he literally said exactly what I quoted!! It was in French, so I didn’t misinterpret it like you might when speaking a foreign language. Of course, he didn’t say Air France was a small airline—that was me adding my two cents 😉 For what it’s worth (and I’m no aviation expert), since we were delayed, I think our time slot was used for another flight, so they had to assign us a new one, which took time—hence the loop. Just a guess!!! I’ve circled the airport multiple times before landing, like others probably have, because the runways weren’t clear. First time in the U.S., we looped three times before landing in Los Angeles, which obviously adds to the flight time! Cheers, A+ A+ A+
If they had to prepare a meal for every type of allergy...
I think I travel quite a bit—I’ve flown with I don’t even know how many airlines—and this is the only one that doesn’t take this (fairly common) allergy into account. (Even Rwandair gets criticized for it in another post!) I knew someone allergic to caviar, so if Air France doesn’t account for that, I get it (seriously!)
An Air France captain speaking like that? Weird. What does that actually mean?
When we arrived in San José, explaining that we had to wait before disembarking because the jet bridge wasn’t suitable, he literally said exactly what I quoted!! It was in French, so I didn’t misinterpret it like you might when speaking a foreign language. Of course, he didn’t say Air France was a small airline—that was me adding my two cents 😉 For what it’s worth (and I’m no aviation expert), since we were delayed, I think our time slot was used for another flight, so they had to assign us a new one, which took time—hence the loop. Just a guess!!! I’ve circled the airport multiple times before landing, like others probably have, because the runways weren’t clear. First time in the U.S., we looped three times before landing in Los Angeles, which obviously adds to the flight time! Cheers, A+ A+ A+
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Upon arriving in San José, explaining that we had to wait before disembarking since the jet bridge wasn’t suitable, he told us exactly what I’m quoting!!
I wasn’t talking about the jet bridge but about this whole unplanned air corridor issue!
Our captain later told us there was no air corridor planned for our flight!!!
Several times before landing, it’s happened to me—like I assume it has to others—to circle around the airport because the runways weren’t clear.
In case of a wait, we don’t circle around the airport but at least 30 to 50 km away.
I wasn’t talking about the jet bridge but about this whole unplanned air corridor issue!
Our captain later told us there was no air corridor planned for our flight!!!
Several times before landing, it’s happened to me—like I assume it has to others—to circle around the airport because the runways weren’t clear.
In case of a wait, we don’t circle around the airport but at least 30 to 50 km away.
It was while he was explaining that we’d be delayed because of the walkway that he also told us about this whole corridor thing. In one message, he explained it all: the corridor and the walkway! !😉
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Hi Jean-Pascal.
I’ll be following this travel journal to see your take on this country, which is sparking more and more debate on this forum (check out other discussions). Once the aviation controversies are settled, of course 😉
I’ll be following this travel journal to see your take on this country, which is sparking more and more debate on this forum (check out other discussions). Once the aviation controversies are settled, of course 😉
"Le véritable voyage de découverte ne consiste pas à chercher de nouveaux paysages, mais à avoir de nouveaux yeux."
Marcel Proust
Once the aviation controversies are settled, of course
Before, airlines would blame air traffic controller strikes for delays as an excuse. Now they’ll say anything, and it somehow works even better… An unplanned or unreserved air corridor, a broken jet bridge—I love it!
Before, airlines would blame air traffic controller strikes for delays as an excuse. Now they’ll say anything, and it somehow works even better… An unplanned or unreserved air corridor, a broken jet bridge—I love it!
Hi Bruno,
You’ll get my overall impression at the end, but maybe you’ll form your own as we go along.
Spoiler: the aeronautical adventures with Air France aren’t over yet :)
See you later,
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Heading to Volcán Poás (booked online just before leaving).
Is the reservation for the 4x4 or the volcano?
Is the reservation for the 4x4 or the volcano?
You're right, Jean-Michel, they must be talking nonsense, but the fact remains that when I saw on the in-flight TV that our plane was heading east, I really thought we were turning back (around Boston, that wasn't great). I even wondered if the captain had forgotten to close a window at his place!
Luckily, I quickly saw we were just making a loop, which reassured me about him—but not about the extra flight time we were in for.
See you,
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
I actually thought we were turning back (around Boston, which wasn’t great). I even wondered if the captain had forgotten to close a window at home!
I once had a Concorde flight turn back to CDG in the middle of the Atlantic because the cabin crew forgot to load the meal trays!
I once had a Concorde flight turn back to CDG in the middle of the Atlantic because the cabin crew forgot to load the meal trays!
Since you're making me react, 😉 , I'll share some info for those who don't know.
To enter the parks in Costa Rica—and there are many—you pretty much have to go through their website for most of them. The site is called SINAC, and some even require entry times since there are apparently quotas.
Of the ones we visited, only for Arenal did we buy our tickets at the counter.
Timing-wise, we arrived on time every time, but according to some tourists we met, it might be a bit of a scam. Yet we were there in peak season.
ToutCostaRica advised me to book Manuel Antonio Park well in advance.
See ya!
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Hi Bruno,
You’ll get my take at the end, but maybe you’ll form your own opinion as you go along.
Spoiler: the aeronautical adventures with Air France aren’t over yet! 🙂
See you later
I have an idea of what Costa Rica is like—I spent a month there in 2022. No travel journal because VF was closed.
I also used TCR’s services, mainly to book a 4x4 with no upfront deposit, which was super handy in those still-uncertain post-COVID times...
By the way, you mention in your story about "piling in" with your one-day hitchhikers—sounds like Jimmy, or am I wrong? [;]
I have an idea of what Costa Rica is like—I spent a month there in 2022. No travel journal because VF was closed.
I also used TCR’s services, mainly to book a 4x4 with no upfront deposit, which was super handy in those still-uncertain post-COVID times...
By the way, you mention in your story about "piling in" with your one-day hitchhikers—sounds like Jimmy, or am I wrong? [;]
"Le véritable voyage de découverte ne consiste pas à chercher de nouveaux paysages, mais à avoir de nouveaux yeux."
Marcel Proust
Day 5:
Hotel Confort Arenal: Great, and we can say that because we really used the room. Normally there’s a stunning view of the volcano, but …. Classic Costa Rican breakfast. Lovely garden and pool, as usual….
It rained all night—torrential downpours. Unheard of this time of year, apparently due to a cold drop coming from the US. Donald’s right, there’s no global warming… uh, are you kidding me?
What to do?
Hike? Nah, rain means getting soaked!
Hot springs? My wife isn’t really into it—she’s not a huge fan at the best of times, and with the rain on top?
Off to the butterfly museum, at least we’ll be dry. It’s pouring, pouring… When we arrive, there are five greenhouses with pretty mariposas. In each one, someone explains the types of butterflies we’re seeing—and that we’ll encounter again later in the trip, by the way. There’s a frog section, so we get to see the iconic brightly colored frogs of Costa Rica. They’re behind glass, but an employee opens the cases, so we can photograph them without the reflection!
There’s also a nice trail to spot different birds, but it’s outside, and with the heavy rain, we zip through it.
We decide to move ahead in our itinerary—maybe the weather will change if we get farther away. Road to Tenorio National Park, which we’d planned to visit tomorrow. The winding road out of La Fortuna is scenic and deserves a few photos, but not in this downpour. We switch to another valley, and suddenly, no more rain. The road’s less pretty, though. Stop at a soda—once again, really good (Bar Restaurante Na Ú).
We end up at Finca Amistad Cacao Lodge earlier than expected.
There’s even a ray of sunshine—the first since we arrived in Costa Rica!! Just as a chocolate-making demo starts. It’s a bit pricey, but in the end, it’s totally worth it—you see all the steps, and *I* got to do it!!! Roasting, then separating the shell from the fruit (two different methods to refine it). Little by little, the chocolate aroma gets stronger. Next, we mix cocoa butter, cane sugar, and stir, stir, stir. Once we have a smooth paste, it goes into a machine that’ll work the mixture for 20 hours!
The whole thing lasts almost two hours, knowing we’ll have to finish it the next day.
End of the day relaxing in hammocks, watching lots of birds, including gorgeous toucans.
Dinner at the Finca was pretty meh (there wasn’t anything else nearby—the access road really needs a 4x4!). Nice chat with a newlywed couple about travel in general over a drink.
The +: The chocolate-making experience The -: The rain
The +: The chocolate-making experience The -: The rain
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
By the way, you mention in your story about "piling in" with your one-day hitchhikers—sounds like Jimmy or am I wrong?
+1
+1
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Day 6:
Hotel Finca Amistad Cacao Lodge: Unique, the rooms are nice, but since the sun isn’t cooperating, the showers in the evening are freezing!!!! Yep, it’s eco-mode, so heating is thanks to the sun. Say what?
After breakfast, a chocolate workshop where we find our mixture at 27°C. We heat it up to 32°C and make our own chocolate bars in plastic molds. We can add hazelnuts, chocolate chips, and all sorts of other stuff. Then it needs a few hours in the cold. Next, we head to Tenorio Park. By the way, it rained all night, and now it’s drizzling. The park is 20 minutes away by 4x4—18 minutes to reach the road and 2 minutes to get to the parking lot.
Again, we had to book tickets in advance on the SINAC website. And the parking is paid on top of that! We start the hike to see the famous waterfall. Meh, it’s all foggy, which doesn’t bode well. We keep walking, and it’s a steep climb (what do you expect when it’s pouring?). At an intersection, there’s a path that descends pretty sharply toward the famous waterfall you see in all the guidebooks. The trail is closed halfway—too dangerous with all the rain. So we see the waterfall from a distance, but not with the promised colors. We head back up, and the climb continues. We reach a viewpoint where, luckily, we see nothing on one side and nothing on the other side too! The trail continues downhill toward the pool. The spot is quite pretty because, despite the lack of light, the water has a beautiful turquoise color. We keep going on flat ground this time and finally reach the spot where two rivers meet. The phenomenon is pretty strange because the waters of these two rivers are clear, “normal,” but when they mix, the water turns a unique turquoise color. It’s a bit like pastis—when you add water, it changes color. A curious phenomenon that must be stunning in the sun. Back to the car, and it’s raining. A quick *casado* at a *soda* (Tapirus Paradise Rio Celeste), some bananas, and we head back to the Finca to pick up our chocolate bars. We take the opportunity to do the guided tour of the farm, a visit we couldn’t do the night before (1:00 PM). From a distance, we spot a sloth moving at least 30 cm!!! I take the chance to cancel our reservation for Monteverde because they’re forecasting a lot of rain, and I’ve had enough! I find a last-minute hotel in Jaco (we’ll see how it goes) as a replacement. On the road to Rincon de la Vieja. We leave in the rain, but at some point, the sun comes out, and through a crazy road (4x4 mandatory), we get some nice distant views. That hasn’t happened to us yet!! The road is paved, but the 4x4 really does seem essential. In fact, on a climb, I see a small 9-seater tourist van reversing in front of me. Once side by side, I ask the driver if there’s a problem. Turns out it was so steep that he was trying to gain momentum. No luck—he had to turn around and find another way. At the exit of a village, we even see the Rincon Volcano almost in its entirety—our first volcano. So happy! We arrive at our next accommodation, and despite the howling wind, we head straight for the pool (the jacuzzi for me), and finally, we get a real moment of relaxation. When it starts raining again (Ah! Just what we needed!), we go inside and wait quietly for dinner, which we’ll have at the hotel. Not great!
The plus: The first rays of sunshine The minus: There’s still a lot of rain for the dry season. In fact, all the Costa Ricans say it’s exceptional.
After breakfast, a chocolate workshop where we find our mixture at 27°C. We heat it up to 32°C and make our own chocolate bars in plastic molds. We can add hazelnuts, chocolate chips, and all sorts of other stuff. Then it needs a few hours in the cold. Next, we head to Tenorio Park. By the way, it rained all night, and now it’s drizzling. The park is 20 minutes away by 4x4—18 minutes to reach the road and 2 minutes to get to the parking lot.
Again, we had to book tickets in advance on the SINAC website. And the parking is paid on top of that! We start the hike to see the famous waterfall. Meh, it’s all foggy, which doesn’t bode well. We keep walking, and it’s a steep climb (what do you expect when it’s pouring?). At an intersection, there’s a path that descends pretty sharply toward the famous waterfall you see in all the guidebooks. The trail is closed halfway—too dangerous with all the rain. So we see the waterfall from a distance, but not with the promised colors. We head back up, and the climb continues. We reach a viewpoint where, luckily, we see nothing on one side and nothing on the other side too! The trail continues downhill toward the pool. The spot is quite pretty because, despite the lack of light, the water has a beautiful turquoise color. We keep going on flat ground this time and finally reach the spot where two rivers meet. The phenomenon is pretty strange because the waters of these two rivers are clear, “normal,” but when they mix, the water turns a unique turquoise color. It’s a bit like pastis—when you add water, it changes color. A curious phenomenon that must be stunning in the sun. Back to the car, and it’s raining. A quick *casado* at a *soda* (Tapirus Paradise Rio Celeste), some bananas, and we head back to the Finca to pick up our chocolate bars. We take the opportunity to do the guided tour of the farm, a visit we couldn’t do the night before (1:00 PM). From a distance, we spot a sloth moving at least 30 cm!!! I take the chance to cancel our reservation for Monteverde because they’re forecasting a lot of rain, and I’ve had enough! I find a last-minute hotel in Jaco (we’ll see how it goes) as a replacement. On the road to Rincon de la Vieja. We leave in the rain, but at some point, the sun comes out, and through a crazy road (4x4 mandatory), we get some nice distant views. That hasn’t happened to us yet!! The road is paved, but the 4x4 really does seem essential. In fact, on a climb, I see a small 9-seater tourist van reversing in front of me. Once side by side, I ask the driver if there’s a problem. Turns out it was so steep that he was trying to gain momentum. No luck—he had to turn around and find another way. At the exit of a village, we even see the Rincon Volcano almost in its entirety—our first volcano. So happy! We arrive at our next accommodation, and despite the howling wind, we head straight for the pool (the jacuzzi for me), and finally, we get a real moment of relaxation. When it starts raining again (Ah! Just what we needed!), we go inside and wait quietly for dinner, which we’ll have at the hotel. Not great!
The plus: The first rays of sunshine The minus: There’s still a lot of rain for the dry season. In fact, all the Costa Ricans say it’s exceptional.
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
To enter the parks in Costa Rica, you must go through their website for most of them. Some even require specific entry times because there are apparently quotas.
For the ones we visited, only Arenal allowed us to buy tickets at the counter.
I was advised to book Manuel Antonio Park well in advance.
Hi,
Ten years ago, I bought all the park tickets at the counter, and there were no quotas. Unfortunately, today, you pretty much have to book everything in advance....
I was advised to book Manuel Antonio Park well in advance.
Hi,
Ten years ago, I bought all the park tickets at the counter, and there were no quotas. Unfortunately, today, you pretty much have to book everything in advance....
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
I don’t remember any ticket counters—no reservations at all, whether for accommodations or the many parks. For Poás Volcano, it was definitely free... but, like the author of the travel journal, when we reached the crater, we were in the clouds. We had a very brief clearing, then everything was fogged in again. That’s just the whims of the weather...
My best visual memories: Manuel Antonio Beach, the view from the top of Chirripó—a great two-day hike with a night in a mountain hut—always without booking. Some beaches on the Osa Peninsula, most accessible without a 4x4 if you drive carefully. Corcovado Park—I remember paying an entrance fee there... Oh, and I almost forgot: the Rasta vibe in Cahuita on the Caribbean coast...
But all of this was 36 years ago... With Avianca CDG/Bogotá/San José
My best visual memories: Manuel Antonio Beach, the view from the top of Chirripó—a great two-day hike with a night in a mountain hut—always without booking. Some beaches on the Osa Peninsula, most accessible without a 4x4 if you drive carefully. Corcovado Park—I remember paying an entrance fee there... Oh, and I almost forgot: the Rasta vibe in Cahuita on the Caribbean coast...
But all of this was 36 years ago... With Avianca CDG/Bogotá/San José
To show off the turquoise water under the sun (well, you had to pick your moment between two clouds ;))
It had rained non-stop the day before, but the water stayed blue :)
And the meeting of the two rivers (blue water on the right, "normal" water on the left):

It had rained non-stop the day before, but the water stayed blue :)
And the meeting of the two rivers (blue water on the right, "normal" water on the left):
Si tu diffères de moi, mon frère, loin de me léser, tu m'enrichis (Saint Exupéry)
I don’t remember any ticket counters—no reservations at all, anyway.
Ten years ago, there weren’t ticket counters everywhere either. In Cahuita, I think there wasn’t anything at all.
It makes sense that Costa Rica would want to earn a bit more from tourism by charging for park entry—after all, some countries charge for entering churches—and I guess that money goes toward maintaining them.
As for reservations, since the end of the pandemic, more and more places have made them mandatory.
Ten years ago, there weren’t ticket counters everywhere either. In Cahuita, I think there wasn’t anything at all.
It makes sense that Costa Rica would want to earn a bit more from tourism by charging for park entry—after all, some countries charge for entering churches—and I guess that money goes toward maintaining them.
As for reservations, since the end of the pandemic, more and more places have made them mandatory.
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
It’s also understandable that Costa Rica wants to make a bit more money from tourism by charging entry fees to parks—after all, there are countries that charge to enter churches.
I can understand everyone’s opinions and impressions from all sides, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m fiercely opposed to nature being caged for commercial purposes. That’s exactly what’s happening in Costa Rica! I also speak out against private property when it results in thousands of hectares being privatized, just like private hunting reserves where wild animals are locked behind kilometers of 3-meter-high fences (I’m thinking of the Sologne region). And near my place in the Vercors, a private hunting reserve was recently "abandoned" by its owner and sold to environmentalists to turn it into a natural "reserve." The result? The environmentalists can’t remove the dozens of kilometers of fences because the former owners had imported deer and other ungulates from Asia that can’t be released into the wild to avoid genetic crossbreeding with endemic species. So they’ll remain enclosed, and you still won’t be able to enter the "Reserve!" This has nothing to do with churches or other man-made buildings (museums, etc.), where it makes sense to charge an entry fee for maintenance. Nature maintains itself—or else we’re no longer talking about "natural spaces."
I can understand everyone’s opinions and impressions from all sides, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m fiercely opposed to nature being caged for commercial purposes. That’s exactly what’s happening in Costa Rica! I also speak out against private property when it results in thousands of hectares being privatized, just like private hunting reserves where wild animals are locked behind kilometers of 3-meter-high fences (I’m thinking of the Sologne region). And near my place in the Vercors, a private hunting reserve was recently "abandoned" by its owner and sold to environmentalists to turn it into a natural "reserve." The result? The environmentalists can’t remove the dozens of kilometers of fences because the former owners had imported deer and other ungulates from Asia that can’t be released into the wild to avoid genetic crossbreeding with endemic species. So they’ll remain enclosed, and you still won’t be able to enter the "Reserve!" This has nothing to do with churches or other man-made buildings (museums, etc.), where it makes sense to charge an entry fee for maintenance. Nature maintains itself—or else we’re no longer talking about "natural spaces."
I’m a fierce opponent of nature being caged for commercial purposes. That’s exactly what’s happening in Costa Rica!
It’s nothing like churches and other man-made buildings (museums, etc.). It makes sense to charge an entrance fee for their upkeep. Nature takes care of itself.
I agree with the idea of nature being "caged."
As for nature upkeep, I’m not familiar with the specifics in Costa Rica—a tropical country—but I know that in Spain, many wildfires are caused by a lack of maintenance. People don’t clear brush, there are no firebreaks, and the smallest spark or cigarette butt can lead to disaster.
Regarding churches with paid entry, I think the Church isn’t poor and could maintain them without charging tourists.
These days, under various pretexts (upkeep, ecology, etc.), everything is becoming paid access. For a few weeks now, you have to pay to see the Trevi Fountain; for a year or two, if you’re not staying in Venice, you have to pay to enter the city; Park Güell in Barcelona is now paid entry, though it was free just a few years ago, etc.
Costa Rica has no museums, churches, or fountains, so it charges for its parks—the goal is the same: to squeeze as much money as possible out of tourism.
It’s nothing like churches and other man-made buildings (museums, etc.). It makes sense to charge an entrance fee for their upkeep. Nature takes care of itself.
I agree with the idea of nature being "caged."
As for nature upkeep, I’m not familiar with the specifics in Costa Rica—a tropical country—but I know that in Spain, many wildfires are caused by a lack of maintenance. People don’t clear brush, there are no firebreaks, and the smallest spark or cigarette butt can lead to disaster.
Regarding churches with paid entry, I think the Church isn’t poor and could maintain them without charging tourists.
These days, under various pretexts (upkeep, ecology, etc.), everything is becoming paid access. For a few weeks now, you have to pay to see the Trevi Fountain; for a year or two, if you’re not staying in Venice, you have to pay to enter the city; Park Güell in Barcelona is now paid entry, though it was free just a few years ago, etc.
Costa Rica has no museums, churches, or fountains, so it charges for its parks—the goal is the same: to squeeze as much money as possible out of tourism.
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
Yes, everything’s becoming paid. In Nepal, which I know well, the old town has become paid entry! Back in the "hippie" days, that’s where we used to stay... same goes for all the little towns around.
As for clearing the countryside, that’s a whole other story... It’s nothing like what I call nature.
The Amazon and primary forests don’t need to be cleared.
I’m also not in favor of developments in natural areas—hotels, parking lots, paved roads leading nowhere except to a natural site, all sorts of unnecessary constructions like concrete viewpoints, etc.
Otherwise, for anything that’s developed, I think it makes sense for it to be paid.
Day 7:
As usual, early wake-up—we’re actually trying to keep this rhythm during the trip to suffer less from jet lag on the way back.
Off to Rincon de la Vieja National Park. Two sectors for the same price. We start with Santa Maria. We’re all alone in the world, yippee, we’ll be able to spot some animals!!! Oh, it’s raining! But since we’re under the trees, we don’t feel it as much. A first stream to cross forces us to take off our shoes and wade through 15 cm of water.
We didn’t even think about the fact there might be critters in the water—we only realized that after putting our shoes back on. The water was flowing fast, not stagnant.
All good, we carry on, and then there’s a second stream. At least 1 meter of water! The ranger who checked our tickets (booked online) didn’t say a word!
We give up. We find another trail on the way back to avoid the first stream, and we head back to the car feeling pretty sheepish. Of course, no animals in sight!
Off to the Paillas sector. There’s some civilization here, but not just that! We got eaten alive by mosquitoes during this lovely loop hike. Despite the famous OFF repellent, it was horrible! Luckily, we did the hike in the sun (I say that because while the mosquitoes didn’t attack me too much, my wife got devoured!!!). There were a few people around, some groups, but it was still totally manageable. We saw a few birds. I had to ask a guide to quiet down his group a bit because with all the noise they were making, the birds flew away quickly. At one point, we got to witness a beautiful spectacle of birds building their nests. The group was thrilled. Seriously, it’s not that hard to speak quietly if you want to see animals. There were some bubbling sounds (not turkeys if you get the Goscinny reference), but rather nearby volcanic activity. You could really smell the sulfur! Big highlight: a tapir showed up on the path right in front of us, and I managed to film it for a few seconds before it bolted. It wasn’t pretty, but I was happy to see one. Back at the hotel, despite the strong wind, we headed to the jacuzzi or pool, depending on how well we could handle the water temperature. I stayed in the hot water for an hour and a half with some Germans and Canadians. We talked a lot about international politics, and it was interesting to hear everyone’s perspectives. The day slowly comes to an end. Decent meal at the hotel.
The +: The tapir The -: The mosquitoes
Off to the Paillas sector. There’s some civilization here, but not just that! We got eaten alive by mosquitoes during this lovely loop hike. Despite the famous OFF repellent, it was horrible! Luckily, we did the hike in the sun (I say that because while the mosquitoes didn’t attack me too much, my wife got devoured!!!). There were a few people around, some groups, but it was still totally manageable. We saw a few birds. I had to ask a guide to quiet down his group a bit because with all the noise they were making, the birds flew away quickly. At one point, we got to witness a beautiful spectacle of birds building their nests. The group was thrilled. Seriously, it’s not that hard to speak quietly if you want to see animals. There were some bubbling sounds (not turkeys if you get the Goscinny reference), but rather nearby volcanic activity. You could really smell the sulfur! Big highlight: a tapir showed up on the path right in front of us, and I managed to film it for a few seconds before it bolted. It wasn’t pretty, but I was happy to see one. Back at the hotel, despite the strong wind, we headed to the jacuzzi or pool, depending on how well we could handle the water temperature. I stayed in the hot water for an hour and a half with some Germans and Canadians. We talked a lot about international politics, and it was interesting to hear everyone’s perspectives. The day slowly comes to an end. Decent meal at the hotel.
The +: The tapir The -: The mosquitoes
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
A little video of the (not so pretty) flying tapir?😉
Day 8:
Hotel: Vida Aventura Ranch: It's aging. Once a ranch with plenty of activities, you can tell the soul of the place is gone. Far from everything!
We leave, it's raining (normal, it's like this all the time, but not what you'd call tropical showers—more like rain back home!). We head toward the Pacific instead of Monteverde as planned, and finally, we see the temperature rise and the sun come out. Ah! Finally, the Costa Rica we were promised. The road is quiet, with little traffic. We stop in Tarcoles to see two crocodiles, including one huge, sturdy one. The place is super touristy and very Americanized. On one side of the road, a brand-new, clean, and expensive center! On the other side, typical Costa Rican stalls made from bits and pieces. We visit the first one and then go for an excellent fruit juice on the other side. What a treat! A place that looked nothing special, but the juices were made right in front of us. (Juice Bar Don Juan) We keep going and arrive in Jaco—or rather, just outside Jaco—in a hotel booked at the last minute. This seems like a great deal! Nice pool, and for once, I enjoy relaxing and soaking up the sun. That doesn’t last long because at 4 PM, the famous tropical downpour sends us back to our room early (huge with a very large balcony). Great restaurant (Restaurante Peppers Grill) just a few minutes from the hotel, even though the service was really slow. Fish, of course!
The plus: The sun and the heat The minus: Not Monteverde
We leave, it's raining (normal, it's like this all the time, but not what you'd call tropical showers—more like rain back home!). We head toward the Pacific instead of Monteverde as planned, and finally, we see the temperature rise and the sun come out. Ah! Finally, the Costa Rica we were promised. The road is quiet, with little traffic. We stop in Tarcoles to see two crocodiles, including one huge, sturdy one. The place is super touristy and very Americanized. On one side of the road, a brand-new, clean, and expensive center! On the other side, typical Costa Rican stalls made from bits and pieces. We visit the first one and then go for an excellent fruit juice on the other side. What a treat! A place that looked nothing special, but the juices were made right in front of us. (Juice Bar Don Juan) We keep going and arrive in Jaco—or rather, just outside Jaco—in a hotel booked at the last minute. This seems like a great deal! Nice pool, and for once, I enjoy relaxing and soaking up the sun. That doesn’t last long because at 4 PM, the famous tropical downpour sends us back to our room early (huge with a very large balcony). Great restaurant (Restaurante Peppers Grill) just a few minutes from the hotel, even though the service was really slow. Fish, of course!
The plus: The sun and the heat The minus: Not Monteverde
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
We’re stopping in Tarcoles to see two crocodiles
Crocodiles or alligators?
Crocodiles or alligators?
Hey Jean-Michel,
I see you're paying close attention. Yep, those are definitely crocodiles!
I’ll admit, I didn’t go poke them or chat to find out where they came from—they’re *huge* (at least the two we saw).
Plus, they’re super quick!!
Later,
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
I see you're paying close attention. It *is* crocodiles, indeed!
Yeah, but crocodiles and alligators—it's all the same thing, right? ;)
Yeah, but crocodiles and alligators—it's all the same thing, right? ;)
Hi Jean-Michel,
I see you're paying close attention. Yes, they're definitely crocodiles!
After that, I'll admit I didn't go tickle them or chat with them to learn more about their origin, because they're really huge (at least the two we saw).
Plus, they're super quick!!
Later
Super quick, but mostly stuffed with chickens every morning by the municipality, which never tires of the tourist traffic it brings! Still, it's a curiosity you shouldn't miss—big babies!
Super quick, but mostly stuffed with chickens every morning by the municipality, which never tires of the tourist traffic it brings! Still, it's a curiosity you shouldn't miss—big babies!

"Le véritable voyage de découverte ne consiste pas à chercher de nouveaux paysages, mais à avoir de nouveaux yeux."
Marcel Proust
Well, I feel for you, Jean Pascal, but I can’t help laughing too—between the rain and the mosquitoes, what bad luck!!
In Nicaragua, I met a traveler who was coming from Costa Rica. He told me: in Costa Rica, you pay to get into the park, then you pay to see the waterfall inside the park, and then you pay *again* to crash on the park’s beach, all while dealing with crowds of Americans everywhere!!
I have to admit, he kinda cooled me off on that destination.
I’d love to hear how your trip went! 😊 Have a great evening, Christelle
In Nicaragua, I met a traveler who was coming from Costa Rica. He told me: in Costa Rica, you pay to get into the park, then you pay to see the waterfall inside the park, and then you pay *again* to crash on the park’s beach, all while dealing with crowds of Americans everywhere!!
I have to admit, he kinda cooled me off on that destination.
I’d love to hear how your trip went! 😊 Have a great evening, Christelle
Le monde est comme un miroir, si tu lui souris, il te sourit aussi!
Very lively but especially stuffed with chickens every morning by the municipality, which never tires of the tourist traffic it brings! But a curiosity not to be missed—huge babies!🐊
It’s clear that personally, I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to see crocodiles. I think I’ve seen plenty on other trips. But gotta admit, they’re massive (hormone-fed chicken makes them grow big), and it’s where I had the best fruit juice ever!
It’s clear that personally, I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to see crocodiles. I think I’ve seen plenty on other trips. But gotta admit, they’re massive (hormone-fed chicken makes them grow big), and it’s where I had the best fruit juice ever!
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Okay, I feel for you, Jean Pascal, but I’m also having a good laugh: between the rain and the mosquitoes, what a streak of bad luck!!
"Bad luck" might be a strong word—after all, I *was* on vacation—but it’s true that the first five days really put a damper on our mood. Not what I’d imagined at all!
"Bad luck" might be a strong word—after all, I *was* on vacation—but it’s true that the first five days really put a damper on our mood. Not what I’d imagined at all!
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Day 9:
This’ll be a chill day. Well, I made it!
Gotta say, during our many trips, I’ve always planned a chill day for Madame, because after 5 minutes on a beach, I’m already off looking for something active to do (hyperactive guy, me?). Every time, we couldn’t really do it—terrible weather, Madame feeling sick, freezing water, etc.
So, for the first time, we’re gonna do nothing!!! Just a quick trip to Playa Hermosa to say we swam in the Pacific, and otherwise, pool, reading, pool, and rain at 4 PM!
Lunch was mostly fruit (you find it everywhere along the road).
Dinner at a *soda* (La Casa de Carmen), which was exceptionally open since sodas usually close by 4 PM—and it was really good.
The +: The sun (finally!) The -: A day with nothing to do—it’s not my thing!
The +: The sun (finally!) The -: A day with nothing to do—it’s not my thing!
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Day 10:
Hotel Pulmillo – A nice surprise, great little breakfast, quiet, large room at a very reasonable price. The evening meals are probably good, but a bit pricey, which is why we chose to eat out.
Departure for a meet-up at 9 AM at Rainforest Adventures Jaco. There, I did something crazy for me, who hates anything in the air. A confirmed skier, I’m still afraid of chairlifts, even though I take them anyway. For my wife’s milestone birthday—since it’s a big one—I did something I never thought I’d do: zip-lining. The thing where you’re suspended in the air on a cable. I wanted to do this in Monteverde, but the weather didn’t cooperate. So, I found this activity not far from the hotel. There are 9 zip lines over the forest with the Pacific as a backdrop. It’s pretty cool!!! We go up to the top of a hill (mountain) with a special cable car (chairlift) that stops every time it loads passengers into the open-air cabin. As a result, what would take 7 minutes on a chairlift takes 30 minutes to climb, but the advantage is that when we stop (often), we have a chance to see animals. We only saw toucans, but it was still nice because we were really above the forest, and if you turn around (just to try!), you can see the Pacific! The experience was fun—once I got past the initial fear, it just got better and better. The guides were cool, and safety was clearly their priority. An hour and a half later, we finally touched solid ground!! A visit to their butterfly enclosure (yes, it’s called an aviary!) where we saw many of the same butterflies as in Arenal. We left the place. A quick stop in downtown Jaco, which is really a beach resort for Americans (we were pretty isolated at our hotel), a quick photo at the Jaco viewpoint, and then off to Quepos. Fruit meal. Arrived at the hotel in the mid-afternoon, where the welcome was very friendly. Ended the day with a swim in the pool, complete with the traditional daily hour-long downpour! (Dry season, you said?) Dinner at a restaurant—once again, excellent. (El Ranchito)
The plus: The zip-lining (and yes, it’s crazy, right!) The minus: The unusual and daily rain during this season
Departure for a meet-up at 9 AM at Rainforest Adventures Jaco. There, I did something crazy for me, who hates anything in the air. A confirmed skier, I’m still afraid of chairlifts, even though I take them anyway. For my wife’s milestone birthday—since it’s a big one—I did something I never thought I’d do: zip-lining. The thing where you’re suspended in the air on a cable. I wanted to do this in Monteverde, but the weather didn’t cooperate. So, I found this activity not far from the hotel. There are 9 zip lines over the forest with the Pacific as a backdrop. It’s pretty cool!!! We go up to the top of a hill (mountain) with a special cable car (chairlift) that stops every time it loads passengers into the open-air cabin. As a result, what would take 7 minutes on a chairlift takes 30 minutes to climb, but the advantage is that when we stop (often), we have a chance to see animals. We only saw toucans, but it was still nice because we were really above the forest, and if you turn around (just to try!), you can see the Pacific! The experience was fun—once I got past the initial fear, it just got better and better. The guides were cool, and safety was clearly their priority. An hour and a half later, we finally touched solid ground!! A visit to their butterfly enclosure (yes, it’s called an aviary!) where we saw many of the same butterflies as in Arenal. We left the place. A quick stop in downtown Jaco, which is really a beach resort for Americans (we were pretty isolated at our hotel), a quick photo at the Jaco viewpoint, and then off to Quepos. Fruit meal. Arrived at the hotel in the mid-afternoon, where the welcome was very friendly. Ended the day with a swim in the pool, complete with the traditional daily hour-long downpour! (Dry season, you said?) Dinner at a restaurant—once again, excellent. (El Ranchito)
The plus: The zip-lining (and yes, it’s crazy, right!) The minus: The unusual and daily rain during this season
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
everything was a madhouse with Americans everywhere!
Hi Christelle,
Unless things have changed a lot, in 2016, I didn’t do ANYTHING "like a madhouse"—we were really far from the overtourism you see in some parts of Europe where it’s REALLY "a madhouse"!
That said, yes, there are Americans, just like there are elsewhere in Central America and even in other parts of Latin America since it’s not far from home for them. Some go for tourism, some to retire, and others for medical care. And many hotels and restaurants are run by Americans (and Canadians too), who are often married to locals.
For me, it was in Costa Rica that I first heard about Nicaragua, and I spent two months there the following year, in 2017. Back then, it was a trendy destination—you’d see a lot of talk about it in travel forums, and many French travelers were going there. Lots of hotels were being built in Granada, Ometepe, etc... I think if it hadn’t been for the events of 2018, Nicaragua would have become a very touristy country too—and maybe just as "overrun" by American tourists.
But in Costa Rica, you can still find yourself completely alone. One day, I was in Playa Samara, a little uphill overlooking the beach, reading in the shade. I heard a noise and saw two families of howler monkeys crossing the path right near me—I’ve never seen howler monkeys that close again.
Hi Christelle,
Unless things have changed a lot, in 2016, I didn’t do ANYTHING "like a madhouse"—we were really far from the overtourism you see in some parts of Europe where it’s REALLY "a madhouse"!
That said, yes, there are Americans, just like there are elsewhere in Central America and even in other parts of Latin America since it’s not far from home for them. Some go for tourism, some to retire, and others for medical care. And many hotels and restaurants are run by Americans (and Canadians too), who are often married to locals.
For me, it was in Costa Rica that I first heard about Nicaragua, and I spent two months there the following year, in 2017. Back then, it was a trendy destination—you’d see a lot of talk about it in travel forums, and many French travelers were going there. Lots of hotels were being built in Granada, Ometepe, etc... I think if it hadn’t been for the events of 2018, Nicaragua would have become a very touristy country too—and maybe just as "overrun" by American tourists.
But in Costa Rica, you can still find yourself completely alone. One day, I was in Playa Samara, a little uphill overlooking the beach, reading in the shade. I heard a noise and saw two families of howler monkeys crossing the path right near me—I’ve never seen howler monkeys that close again.
" Celui qui voyage sans rencontrer l'autre ne voyage pas , il se déplace "
( Alexandra David-Néel )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
" Ahora todos quieren ser latinos , no , ey , pero les falta sazon , bateria y reggaeton " ( Bad Bunny )
OMG Marie, I was there in Nicaragua in 2017 too. It must’ve been *the* trendy spot back then 😂
Le monde est comme un miroir, si tu lui souris, il te sourit aussi!
Day 11:
Hotel Villa Romantica: Once again, great, with a very warm welcome and the usual fruity breakfast.
Today, it’s the famous Manuel Antonio National Park. I did as advised—booked my tickets early online and arrived at opening time. I drove all the way to park despite touts insisting their parking lot was the last one before the park. There are two fairly large parking lots right near the entrance. More touts outside suggest hiring a guide, but they’re actually asking for money—guides are inside the park. I’m not a fan of this, even though it seems to work given how many people are accompanied by guides. In the end, I didn’t hire one, and there are so many people that as soon as there’s something to see, you find out right away. Several trails branch off here and there. We try almost all of them but don’t see any animals. On the side trails, we’re alone or nearly so, but still see nothing. (The guides must know where to look.) We spot a sloth through binoculars, but my wife can’t see it. « - Is that the brown, round thing that isn’t moving? - Yes, that’s one. - Looks like an Asian hornet nest. - Kind of, yeah.» Basically, you need insane luck *and* catch the animal when it feels like scratching its nose. Reminder: they sleep 15 hours a day. We reach a central point with a café, restrooms, and the first beach nearby. It’s crowded, and that’s where we see different types of monkeys. Makes sense—those critters only think about stealing food, and where there are people, there are monkeys. More surprisingly, there are also furballs (sorry!)—sloths, which we spot with binoculars. I even manage to see a second one in the furball, and listening to a guide next to me, he explains it’s the baby! I also learn that it’s normal to find sloths where there are people because they’re very skittish, and human presence protects them from predators! So where there are people, there are animals; where there’s no one, you’ve got to really search to see anything! We keep hiking toward Punta Catedral. It’s a pretty trail, barely used, and of course, we don’t see a single animal. The views of the Pacific are stunning, though. We reach the main beach, find a nice shady spot, and—boom—swim in 32°C water (I love it!!!). My wife’s less of a fan; she prefers it colder! We head back and take advantage of the showers to rinse off the salt—really nice. This park is super well-organized, with lots of drinking water stations. Lunch around 2 PM at the park entrance—again, good and cheap! (Donde Alex) Back to the hotel, which kindly held our bags since apparently, it’s not recommended to leave them in the car there. Drive to Uvita. The road is really nice, with a phenomenal number of palm trees. Arrive at our hotel, and once again, end the day with a pool session and the inevitable rain. Talking to the owners—French folks who’ve been here for 9 years—this is the first year they’ve seen daily rain during the dry season. In the wet season, it’s normal, but they’re totally shocked!!! Following their advice, we go for drinks at Don Roger Mirador, where the sunset over the Pacific is gorgeous. Then, an excellent and original dinner elsewhere in Uvita (Jaffa Restaurante del mar). Bedtime.
The plus: Manuel Antonio Park, despite the crowds. The minus: the rain!
Day 12: Hotel: Forest Lodge. Friendly welcome, but the rooms aren’t great—no air conditioning. A bit of a hot night.
Today, it’s a boat excursion to try and see whales. I booked with Dolphin Tour. They’re professional, efficient, and well-organized. After the briefing, we walk to Uvita’s beach, where a boat is waiting. We sail for a while. There are three crew members for our group of 15: a captain, an assistant, and a guide. All three keep a close eye on the sea, trying to spot whales. Not easy—every time we see a water spout, we rush over, but the animal has already dived. The captain tries to guess its trajectory, but no luck. After another disappointment, while waiting for the next sighting, we spot dolphins jumping in the distance. We head toward them when suddenly, next to us, a spout—then a humpback whale puts on a show, diving and showing its massive tail as it disappears in slow motion. Amazing! What a stroke of luck. Hard to top that. So we head toward the dolphins, and it’s like a clown show for 5 minutes. Time to head back. The captain takes us to a bay packed with boats just like ours. They’re all surrounding a pair of dolphins that, according to our guide, are sedentary in this bay—so you’re guaranteed to see them. It feels like a zoo, and we’re really disturbing the mammals. Our guide notices our group disapproves, so he gives the order to move on to another sheltered bay where we can snorkel. We do, but there’s nothing extraordinary—no coral, just rocks and a few mediocre fish. No big deal, though—the water’s nice! Back on land, the center has showers, which feel great to rinse off the salt, and then we head into the mountains, specifically Rivas, in search of the Quetzal. Lunch at a *soda* (Vista Montana)—not the best, but decent enough. We pass through lots of pretty villages with stunning landscapes, and strangely, we leave the Pacific behind, and the sun’s still out! We arrive at the hotel around 3:30 PM, and of course—rain, pouring for an hour and a half! (Damn dry season!) Then the sun comes back, so pool time and, most importantly, birdwatching. That’s where we see the most, sitting in chairs in front of our room. Dinner at the hotel restaurant since there’s nothing nearby. Decent, but nothing special.
Today, it’s the famous Manuel Antonio National Park. I did as advised—booked my tickets early online and arrived at opening time. I drove all the way to park despite touts insisting their parking lot was the last one before the park. There are two fairly large parking lots right near the entrance. More touts outside suggest hiring a guide, but they’re actually asking for money—guides are inside the park. I’m not a fan of this, even though it seems to work given how many people are accompanied by guides. In the end, I didn’t hire one, and there are so many people that as soon as there’s something to see, you find out right away. Several trails branch off here and there. We try almost all of them but don’t see any animals. On the side trails, we’re alone or nearly so, but still see nothing. (The guides must know where to look.) We spot a sloth through binoculars, but my wife can’t see it. « - Is that the brown, round thing that isn’t moving? - Yes, that’s one. - Looks like an Asian hornet nest. - Kind of, yeah.» Basically, you need insane luck *and* catch the animal when it feels like scratching its nose. Reminder: they sleep 15 hours a day. We reach a central point with a café, restrooms, and the first beach nearby. It’s crowded, and that’s where we see different types of monkeys. Makes sense—those critters only think about stealing food, and where there are people, there are monkeys. More surprisingly, there are also furballs (sorry!)—sloths, which we spot with binoculars. I even manage to see a second one in the furball, and listening to a guide next to me, he explains it’s the baby! I also learn that it’s normal to find sloths where there are people because they’re very skittish, and human presence protects them from predators! So where there are people, there are animals; where there’s no one, you’ve got to really search to see anything! We keep hiking toward Punta Catedral. It’s a pretty trail, barely used, and of course, we don’t see a single animal. The views of the Pacific are stunning, though. We reach the main beach, find a nice shady spot, and—boom—swim in 32°C water (I love it!!!). My wife’s less of a fan; she prefers it colder! We head back and take advantage of the showers to rinse off the salt—really nice. This park is super well-organized, with lots of drinking water stations. Lunch around 2 PM at the park entrance—again, good and cheap! (Donde Alex) Back to the hotel, which kindly held our bags since apparently, it’s not recommended to leave them in the car there. Drive to Uvita. The road is really nice, with a phenomenal number of palm trees. Arrive at our hotel, and once again, end the day with a pool session and the inevitable rain. Talking to the owners—French folks who’ve been here for 9 years—this is the first year they’ve seen daily rain during the dry season. In the wet season, it’s normal, but they’re totally shocked!!! Following their advice, we go for drinks at Don Roger Mirador, where the sunset over the Pacific is gorgeous. Then, an excellent and original dinner elsewhere in Uvita (Jaffa Restaurante del mar). Bedtime.
The plus: Manuel Antonio Park, despite the crowds. The minus: the rain!
Day 12: Hotel: Forest Lodge. Friendly welcome, but the rooms aren’t great—no air conditioning. A bit of a hot night.
Today, it’s a boat excursion to try and see whales. I booked with Dolphin Tour. They’re professional, efficient, and well-organized. After the briefing, we walk to Uvita’s beach, where a boat is waiting. We sail for a while. There are three crew members for our group of 15: a captain, an assistant, and a guide. All three keep a close eye on the sea, trying to spot whales. Not easy—every time we see a water spout, we rush over, but the animal has already dived. The captain tries to guess its trajectory, but no luck. After another disappointment, while waiting for the next sighting, we spot dolphins jumping in the distance. We head toward them when suddenly, next to us, a spout—then a humpback whale puts on a show, diving and showing its massive tail as it disappears in slow motion. Amazing! What a stroke of luck. Hard to top that. So we head toward the dolphins, and it’s like a clown show for 5 minutes. Time to head back. The captain takes us to a bay packed with boats just like ours. They’re all surrounding a pair of dolphins that, according to our guide, are sedentary in this bay—so you’re guaranteed to see them. It feels like a zoo, and we’re really disturbing the mammals. Our guide notices our group disapproves, so he gives the order to move on to another sheltered bay where we can snorkel. We do, but there’s nothing extraordinary—no coral, just rocks and a few mediocre fish. No big deal, though—the water’s nice! Back on land, the center has showers, which feel great to rinse off the salt, and then we head into the mountains, specifically Rivas, in search of the Quetzal. Lunch at a *soda* (Vista Montana)—not the best, but decent enough. We pass through lots of pretty villages with stunning landscapes, and strangely, we leave the Pacific behind, and the sun’s still out! We arrive at the hotel around 3:30 PM, and of course—rain, pouring for an hour and a half! (Damn dry season!) Then the sun comes back, so pool time and, most importantly, birdwatching. That’s where we see the most, sitting in chairs in front of our room. Dinner at the hotel restaurant since there’s nothing nearby. Decent, but nothing special.
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Road to Uvita. It's really nice, this road with a phenomenal number of palm trees.
Dozens of kilometers of oil palm plantations: I found it absolutely heartbreaking!
Dozens of kilometers of oil palm plantations: I found it absolutely heartbreaking!
Mon voyage au Botswana :
https://voyageforum.com/discussion/pays-tswanas-botswana-d9819920/
Road to Uvita. It's really nice this road with a phenomenal amount of palm trees.
Dozens of kilometers of oil palm plantations: I found it absolutely heartbreaking!
I agree with you there, not the prettiest scenery, especially when you know that palm oil was introduced in CR to compensate for an ecological disaster, as banana plantations were devastated by an unstoppable fungus.
Dozens of kilometers of oil palm plantations: I found it absolutely heartbreaking!
I agree with you there, not the prettiest scenery, especially when you know that palm oil was introduced in CR to compensate for an ecological disaster, as banana plantations were devastated by an unstoppable fungus.
"Le véritable voyage de découverte ne consiste pas à chercher de nouveaux paysages, mais à avoir de nouveaux yeux."
Marcel Proust
Hi Ludo,
Your comment about the palm trees is spot-on, but I have to admit that seeing them at that moment really made me feel like I was in a hot country🙂.
See you,
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
Day 13:
A day of hiking was planned, with Cloudbridge Nature Reserve in the morning and a hike around the hotel in the afternoon after returning. At the park ticket office, the person I told I wanted to see a quetzal said she’d seen three the day before. Given the woman’s build, I doubted she’d put in much effort to spot them—the trails climb fast!
So, armed with binoculars and patience, we scrambled around in search of the mythical bird.
And surprise!!................................drumroll.................
We saw nothing at all—not a single bird to spot. We didn’t even hear any chirping!
Really disappointed with this park.
Back at the hotel after buying some fruit and having lunch in front of our room, where we saw plenty of birds again.
Ready for the afternoon hike. Well, no—the rain arrived earlier than expected and lasted two hours. One of the hotel employees told me the same thing the French folks in Uvita had, but in Spanish! It’s unusual for this season.
The rest of the day was spent birdwatching, reading, and packing a bit.
Once again, dinner at the hotel restaurant.
The +: The very pleasant hotel The -: Cloudbridge Nature Reserve
Day 14: Hotel: Hotel de Montana del Pelicano: Excellent hotel, too bad the restaurant isn’t up to par, but the bar is set high.
Today involved a lot of driving as we headed toward Cartago, knowing we’d encounter plenty of trucks on the road. Leaving San Isidro del General, we started a climb that took us higher than the clouds. What a climb!! We began under the sun, but the summit was shrouded in fog, and we only saw the sun again on the way down. The drive took a while—lots of trucks moving very slowly. Still, we managed to pass them since they played along fairly well. Arriving in Cartago, Costa Rica’s second-largest city, we headed toward the Orosi Valley. Our goal was to explore the valley, starting with a visit to the Iglesia Colonial de Orosi. Unfortunately, it was closed for renovations. We tried to enter since one door was open, and sure enough, everything was under construction. A foreman, initially unhappy we were there, came over, and we ended up having a pleasant chat about the place and religion. The kind of encounter I enjoy. On his advice, we backtracked to the Orosi viewpoint. Though the view was obscured, the spot was surprising and worth discovering. If you’re planning a picnic, this is the place to go (it’s free!). Everything’s provided—tables, benches, barbecues, water for washing dishes. We continued our drive through this coffee valley, passing small villages. In Cachi, we tried to find the local *Facteur Cheval*’s house, but after much searching, we found it—only to realize there was nothing there! It was the *Facteur Baudet*! We found a restaurant in the middle of nowhere, which turned out to be pretty decent, next to the Ujarras ruins, which are worth the detour (also free). The place has a special atmosphere and deserves a visit. On to the Ujarras viewpoint, another spot with insane landscaping where you can picnic in peace. Unfortunately, the view wasn’t great due to the mist. Back to Cartago to visit the basilica. A mass had just started, so my wife went in while I grabbed a coffee on a terrace overlooking the square. Nice to see a bit of daily life in an important city. After the ceremony, we visited the basilica, which is worth the stop. But timing is key—there are often masses, and respect for the service is important to us. Like all basilicas, it was built because of a miracle here: a young Indigenous girl saw the Virgin, etc. We arrived at our hotel, on the road to Irazú Volcano and up in the mountains. No pool, few birds, fog—so it was apéritif time! I asked the owner, who hadn’t booked my tickets for the volcano yet (again, on that famous reservation site), if he thought the weather would be nice the next day (oh, and I forgot to mention—it was raining). He told me that, contrary to what many guides (including mine) say, the best time to visit is 9 AM, not 10 AM. I trusted him and booked online for 9 AM. We’ll see if we finally get to see a volcano in Costa Rica!
The +: The Ujarras ruins The -: The Orosi church closed
The +: The very pleasant hotel The -: Cloudbridge Nature Reserve
Day 14: Hotel: Hotel de Montana del Pelicano: Excellent hotel, too bad the restaurant isn’t up to par, but the bar is set high.
Today involved a lot of driving as we headed toward Cartago, knowing we’d encounter plenty of trucks on the road. Leaving San Isidro del General, we started a climb that took us higher than the clouds. What a climb!! We began under the sun, but the summit was shrouded in fog, and we only saw the sun again on the way down. The drive took a while—lots of trucks moving very slowly. Still, we managed to pass them since they played along fairly well. Arriving in Cartago, Costa Rica’s second-largest city, we headed toward the Orosi Valley. Our goal was to explore the valley, starting with a visit to the Iglesia Colonial de Orosi. Unfortunately, it was closed for renovations. We tried to enter since one door was open, and sure enough, everything was under construction. A foreman, initially unhappy we were there, came over, and we ended up having a pleasant chat about the place and religion. The kind of encounter I enjoy. On his advice, we backtracked to the Orosi viewpoint. Though the view was obscured, the spot was surprising and worth discovering. If you’re planning a picnic, this is the place to go (it’s free!). Everything’s provided—tables, benches, barbecues, water for washing dishes. We continued our drive through this coffee valley, passing small villages. In Cachi, we tried to find the local *Facteur Cheval*’s house, but after much searching, we found it—only to realize there was nothing there! It was the *Facteur Baudet*! We found a restaurant in the middle of nowhere, which turned out to be pretty decent, next to the Ujarras ruins, which are worth the detour (also free). The place has a special atmosphere and deserves a visit. On to the Ujarras viewpoint, another spot with insane landscaping where you can picnic in peace. Unfortunately, the view wasn’t great due to the mist. Back to Cartago to visit the basilica. A mass had just started, so my wife went in while I grabbed a coffee on a terrace overlooking the square. Nice to see a bit of daily life in an important city. After the ceremony, we visited the basilica, which is worth the stop. But timing is key—there are often masses, and respect for the service is important to us. Like all basilicas, it was built because of a miracle here: a young Indigenous girl saw the Virgin, etc. We arrived at our hotel, on the road to Irazú Volcano and up in the mountains. No pool, few birds, fog—so it was apéritif time! I asked the owner, who hadn’t booked my tickets for the volcano yet (again, on that famous reservation site), if he thought the weather would be nice the next day (oh, and I forgot to mention—it was raining). He told me that, contrary to what many guides (including mine) say, the best time to visit is 9 AM, not 10 AM. I trusted him and booked online for 9 AM. We’ll see if we finally get to see a volcano in Costa Rica!
The +: The Ujarras ruins The -: The Orosi church closed
On me l'a souvent dit, et les photos ? Ben moi je filme !!!
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Preamble
June 2024. While hiking with my brother on the GR 36 Tour du Morvan, I catch sight now and then of strange rectangular markers fixed to tree trunks. Against a bright orange background, a deep black Greek tau topped with a white dove. My first encounter with the Assisi Way. The Way of St. Francis: a pilgrimage route linking Vézelay in Burgundy to Assisi in Italy, covering nearly 1,800 km. It felt like an obvious next step—I immediately knew I’d take it on, attempt the adventure solo.

In the months that followed, I talked about my project to everyone—family, friends, my partner. An avalanche of comments, more or less the same but varying depending on each person’s character and life experiences. But deep down, it all boiled down to one legitimate question: why?
And the answers? Hesitant, awkward, partial, even confused. I quickly realized they weren’t so easy to find. It was as if my project seemed more like a whim, a kind of intimate caprice, rather than a well-thought-out plan. Of course, I knew the reasons that pushed me to leave—you always have to give some. Loved ones need to understand to feel reassured, and that’s understandable. But I fear that when I list them, they’ll sound like the same old checklist anyone embarking on this kind of journey might give. Of all the reasons I could mention, I’ll highlight just one here: the call of the road, the solo adventure that brings a powerful sense of freedom. A bit like Monsieur Seguin’s goat, who from her comfortable pen gazes longingly at the unconstrained horizon of the mountain. But if I’m being honest, I think I didn’t really know what I was looking for—or, more importantly, what I’d find. Deep down, when I reflect on it, one word keeps coming up that explains nothing and everything at once: desire.
Now well past sixty, I know that when I ask myself who I am or where I’m going, two things bring me fully back to myself: hiking and writing. And my intention was also to anchor this adventure through words, day by day. Writing down my feelings, emotions, discoveries, and reflections each evening. The famous travel journal that grounds the daily experience in reality. When I discovered the app "Polarstep," which was initially just meant to keep my loved ones updated and reassured, inform them of my progress, and maintain a connection, I found an opportunity to do it a little differently than usual. No retrospective notes polished up after returning, but spontaneous writing—recounting everything that crossed my mind during the day and publishing it immediately. A journey lived in real time.
This text is the exact transcription of my daily writings. Rereading them, I didn’t change a thing—just corrected a few mistakes and tweaked some awkward phrasing here and there. Short texts, fitting the format imposed by this kind of app. Writing as if addressing others.
Now, all that was left was to walk. April 18, 2026 – Vézelay.

June 2024. While hiking with my brother on the GR 36 Tour du Morvan, I catch sight now and then of strange rectangular markers fixed to tree trunks. Against a bright orange background, a deep black Greek tau topped with a white dove. My first encounter with the Assisi Way. The Way of St. Francis: a pilgrimage route linking Vézelay in Burgundy to Assisi in Italy, covering nearly 1,800 km. It felt like an obvious next step—I immediately knew I’d take it on, attempt the adventure solo.

In the months that followed, I talked about my project to everyone—family, friends, my partner. An avalanche of comments, more or less the same but varying depending on each person’s character and life experiences. But deep down, it all boiled down to one legitimate question: why?
And the answers? Hesitant, awkward, partial, even confused. I quickly realized they weren’t so easy to find. It was as if my project seemed more like a whim, a kind of intimate caprice, rather than a well-thought-out plan. Of course, I knew the reasons that pushed me to leave—you always have to give some. Loved ones need to understand to feel reassured, and that’s understandable. But I fear that when I list them, they’ll sound like the same old checklist anyone embarking on this kind of journey might give. Of all the reasons I could mention, I’ll highlight just one here: the call of the road, the solo adventure that brings a powerful sense of freedom. A bit like Monsieur Seguin’s goat, who from her comfortable pen gazes longingly at the unconstrained horizon of the mountain. But if I’m being honest, I think I didn’t really know what I was looking for—or, more importantly, what I’d find. Deep down, when I reflect on it, one word keeps coming up that explains nothing and everything at once: desire.
Now well past sixty, I know that when I ask myself who I am or where I’m going, two things bring me fully back to myself: hiking and writing. And my intention was also to anchor this adventure through words, day by day. Writing down my feelings, emotions, discoveries, and reflections each evening. The famous travel journal that grounds the daily experience in reality. When I discovered the app "Polarstep," which was initially just meant to keep my loved ones updated and reassured, inform them of my progress, and maintain a connection, I found an opportunity to do it a little differently than usual. No retrospective notes polished up after returning, but spontaneous writing—recounting everything that crossed my mind during the day and publishing it immediately. A journey lived in real time.
This text is the exact transcription of my daily writings. Rereading them, I didn’t change a thing—just corrected a few mistakes and tweaked some awkward phrasing here and there. Short texts, fitting the format imposed by this kind of app. Writing as if addressing others.
Now, all that was left was to walk. April 18, 2026 – Vézelay.

March 2nd — Departure by bus from Latour at 6:50 AM. The journey isn’t direct: we pass through Elne then Corneilla. In Perpignan, I switch to a BlablaBus heading to Barcelona’s northern bus station. Before reaching Le Perthus, French police stop us to check IDs. Several people aren’t in order, but after about fifteen minutes, we’re on our way again. We’re checked again at La Jonquera: this time, the wait lasts almost forty-five minutes while police identify those in violation and wait for a vehicle to pick them up. The driver then tries to make up for lost time; we finally arrive at our destination half an hour late.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.

Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.

Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church

, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes

—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit. I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.



Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.


We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.

Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.

Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church

, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes

—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit. I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.



Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.


We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.
This travel journal summarizes a trip I took in March to Argentine and Chilean Patagonia. It starts in El Calafate and ends in Ushuaia. During my planning, I considered looking into the Australis cruise from Punta Arenas to Ushuaia, as well as the W trek in Torres del Paine National Park. In both cases, I was put off by the prices. Instead of the cruise, I found two interesting wildlife excursions from Punta Arenas: whale watching in the Strait of Magellan and observing king penguins in Tierra del Fuego. The journey to Ushuaia was by bus. For Torres del Paine, things were a bit confusing, so I reached out to two agencies. In the end, I went with a rental car option, overnight stays on-site, and day hikes. I shared my full itinerary with the agency and ended up being taken care of by a local Argentine agency and a Chilean one.
So, here we go...
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 rentals kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything fell into place—I told myself, now’s the time!
Preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan? Not in the end.
The south or not? Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or play it by ear? 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 on this destination (the guide has been updated since).
---/---
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! (‘Beefsteak’ for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)

You’ll find here a post with some practical info.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rentals kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything fell into place—I told myself, now’s the time!
Preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan? Not in the end.
The south or not? Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or play it by ear? 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 on this destination (the guide has been updated since).
---/---
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! (‘Beefsteak’ for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)

You’ll find here a post with some practical info.
Hi there,
Here’s our account of our trip to Malaysia from September 11th to 27th. I hope our tips can help others as much as this forum has helped us!
Day 0:
Departure from Nantes with a transfer in Amsterdam via KLM (720 €).
Day 1:
We arrive at KLIA1 in the early afternoon. First challenge: figuring out where to pick up our luggage. Turns out the answer is right under our noses—we need to take the airport’s internal metro! Once we’ve got our bags, we withdraw some cash from a Maybank ATM right there. Next up: SIM card! Just outside the arrivals hall, several kiosks offer them. We go for a Celcom 5 GB card (70 RM). Then it’s taxi time to get to KL, in the Bukit Bintang area—about 85 RM in a slightly old taxi with weak air conditioning. We check into our Airbnb apartment, which is clean, more spacious than a hotel room, and—best of all—has a charming balcony with a gorgeous nighttime view!

We end up hanging out on that balcony, reviewing our plans for the next day. After dark, we take the monorail just a short walk away to enjoy our first evening on a rooftop at the 34th floor: Hélipad (Raja Chulan station—you have to enter the Menara Tower at the base of the station) with a panoramic view of the city and its iconic towers.


Finally, we head to Jalan Alor to grab a bite in this super busy street. Big sleep ahead! 😴
Here’s our account of our trip to Malaysia from September 11th to 27th. I hope our tips can help others as much as this forum has helped us!
Day 0:
Departure from Nantes with a transfer in Amsterdam via KLM (720 €).
Day 1:
We arrive at KLIA1 in the early afternoon. First challenge: figuring out where to pick up our luggage. Turns out the answer is right under our noses—we need to take the airport’s internal metro! Once we’ve got our bags, we withdraw some cash from a Maybank ATM right there. Next up: SIM card! Just outside the arrivals hall, several kiosks offer them. We go for a Celcom 5 GB card (70 RM). Then it’s taxi time to get to KL, in the Bukit Bintang area—about 85 RM in a slightly old taxi with weak air conditioning. We check into our Airbnb apartment, which is clean, more spacious than a hotel room, and—best of all—has a charming balcony with a gorgeous nighttime view!

We end up hanging out on that balcony, reviewing our plans for the next day. After dark, we take the monorail just a short walk away to enjoy our first evening on a rooftop at the 34th floor: Hélipad (Raja Chulan station—you have to enter the Menara Tower at the base of the station) with a panoramic view of the city and its iconic towers.


Finally, we head to Jalan Alor to grab a bite in this super busy street. Big sleep ahead! 😴
After the summer of 2022 left me with a sense of unfinished business, here I am back in Swedish Lapland for the summer of 2024, ready to attempt the Sarek crossing again—and this time, tackle part of the Kungsleden too.
After much hesitation, my companion Jean Marie and I decided to start with the Kungsleden, which, from what we’ve read, is stunning but very crowded (and it really is!!), and finish with the wilder option: SAREK! This park is known as Europe’s last wild space—I think it’s incredibly inspiring!! The downside of this choice is that there are no resupply options in Sarek, and the Kungsleden isn’t exactly set up for long treks either, so we’ll have to carry a lot of food for the first part with Sarek in mind. But hey, we’re motivated!
Our plan is to start in Abisko (classic), head to Vakkotavare (also classic, but with some variations to avoid the official route and the crowds), then continue the Kungsleden from Saltoluokta. Before Aktse, we’ll set off on an east-to-west crossing of Sarek (weather-dependent, since aside from the Skarja hut in the center of the park, there’s no shelter if conditions turn bad). At least we’ll be on the right side of the park to climb Skierfe and enjoy the jaw-dropping view of Rappaladen if we have to abandon the Sarek crossing.
That adds up to 17 days of trekking, including 1 rest day + 1 buffer day for weather delays.
So if you’re interested, I invite you to follow our overstuffed backpacks!
08/03 - Abisko – 5km before Abiskojaure Some info (guides used for prep, SFT map, sending food to Saltoluokta) 08/04 – 5km before Abiskojaure - on the east shore of Lake Alisjavri 08/05 – East shore of Lake Alisjavri – just before Tjaktja 08/06 – Just before Tjaktja – above the Salka hut via Nallo 08/07 - Salka – just past Singi + side trip to Djalson Lake 08/08 - Singi – Teusajaure 08/09 - Teusajaure - Vakkotavare (end of the first section of the Kungsleden) 08/10 – rest day in Saltoluokta + round trip to the Sámi village of Pietjaure 08/11 – Saltoluokta – Sitojaure 08/12 - Sitojaure - Skierfe - So, Sarek or no Sarek? 08/13 – Skierfe – somewhere above Rapadalen 08/14 – Somewhere above Rapadalen – above the Skarki hut Coming up: 08/15 – Above the Skarki hut - Skarja
After much hesitation, my companion Jean Marie and I decided to start with the Kungsleden, which, from what we’ve read, is stunning but very crowded (and it really is!!), and finish with the wilder option: SAREK! This park is known as Europe’s last wild space—I think it’s incredibly inspiring!! The downside of this choice is that there are no resupply options in Sarek, and the Kungsleden isn’t exactly set up for long treks either, so we’ll have to carry a lot of food for the first part with Sarek in mind. But hey, we’re motivated!
Our plan is to start in Abisko (classic), head to Vakkotavare (also classic, but with some variations to avoid the official route and the crowds), then continue the Kungsleden from Saltoluokta. Before Aktse, we’ll set off on an east-to-west crossing of Sarek (weather-dependent, since aside from the Skarja hut in the center of the park, there’s no shelter if conditions turn bad). At least we’ll be on the right side of the park to climb Skierfe and enjoy the jaw-dropping view of Rappaladen if we have to abandon the Sarek crossing.
That adds up to 17 days of trekking, including 1 rest day + 1 buffer day for weather delays.
So if you’re interested, I invite you to follow our overstuffed backpacks!
08/03 - Abisko – 5km before Abiskojaure Some info (guides used for prep, SFT map, sending food to Saltoluokta) 08/04 – 5km before Abiskojaure - on the east shore of Lake Alisjavri 08/05 – East shore of Lake Alisjavri – just before Tjaktja 08/06 – Just before Tjaktja – above the Salka hut via Nallo 08/07 - Salka – just past Singi + side trip to Djalson Lake 08/08 - Singi – Teusajaure 08/09 - Teusajaure - Vakkotavare (end of the first section of the Kungsleden) 08/10 – rest day in Saltoluokta + round trip to the Sámi village of Pietjaure 08/11 – Saltoluokta – Sitojaure 08/12 - Sitojaure - Skierfe - So, Sarek or no Sarek? 08/13 – Skierfe – somewhere above Rapadalen 08/14 – Somewhere above Rapadalen – above the Skarki hut Coming up: 08/15 – Above the Skarki hut - Skarja
After a pretty disastrous weather-wise trip to Gran Canaria, we’re hoping this time the sun will shine in Puglia.
It’s not a sure thing, though—the weather’s been awful all over Europe in early May.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16: This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us. The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!! The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that Italian cars don’t have turn signals 😮... except for rental cars).
About an hour later, we arrive at our first accommodation, right in the middle of the countryside near Monopoli. The owner isn’t there, but they’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch. We explore the property:

And the next morning before breakfast, its immediate surroundings:


Sunday, May 17: After our "seaside" experience in Gran Canaria last weekend (packed with people and locals), we decide to start inland. After a hearty breakfast,

we head toward Alberobello, a super touristy village famous for its trulli—those stone houses with conical roofs. We easily find a free parking spot on a street near the Aia Piccola district, where some trulli are still lived in year-round.


We almost immediately come across the Trullo Sovrano (the only two-story one), which you can visit (but we skip it—it’s opening time, and there’s already a line).

From there, we head down toward the Basilica of Cosma e Damiano... but we don’t go in because there’s a mass.

Now we’re on the main Piazza del Popolo, which connects the two districts of Alberobello: Rione Aia Piccola and Rione Monti, the more touristy one.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16: This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us. The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!! The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that Italian cars don’t have turn signals 😮... except for rental cars).
About an hour later, we arrive at our first accommodation, right in the middle of the countryside near Monopoli. The owner isn’t there, but they’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch. We explore the property:

And the next morning before breakfast, its immediate surroundings:


Sunday, May 17: After our "seaside" experience in Gran Canaria last weekend (packed with people and locals), we decide to start inland. After a hearty breakfast,

we head toward Alberobello, a super touristy village famous for its trulli—those stone houses with conical roofs. We easily find a free parking spot on a street near the Aia Piccola district, where some trulli are still lived in year-round.


We almost immediately come across the Trullo Sovrano (the only two-story one), which you can visit (but we skip it—it’s opening time, and there’s already a line).

From there, we head down toward the Basilica of Cosma e Damiano... but we don’t go in because there’s a mass.

Now we’re on the main Piazza del Popolo, which connects the two districts of Alberobello: Rione Aia Piccola and Rione Monti, the more touristy one.

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
Here’s a little story about my first trip to Japan with my partner.
We went for our first visit from October 29 to November 13, 2024.
I had planned this entire trip back in November 2020, but given the health situation at the time, I had to cancel...
Here’s the classic route we took:
We booked everything ourselves and got a regional pass for the area from Kyoto to Hiroshima. The hotels were reserved 3 months in advance on Book... and Agod... (1030 € for 2 people for 13 nights = 80 €/night). For the flight, we chose a Qatar Airways flight with a layover to break up the long journey (950 € per person). We also got a pass on the same site (Japan-Experience) to take the train connecting Narita Airport to Shibuya Station (the N'EX Narita Express). Since the airport is 75 km from central Tokyo, we opted for this mode of transport, even though there are cheaper alternatives. After reading various posts on VoyageForum, I understood how important it was to have a Welcome Suica card to pay for public transport (subway, tram, bus, boat throughout the country), and we were able to buy one at Narita Airport. It turned out to be super useful! After a long but smooth journey, we found ourselves at Narita Airport in the evening. Even though we had a pass for the Narita Express, we had to go to a counter to make a reservation for the train (mandatory). Then, once we arrived at Shibuya Station, we took the subway for 2 stops and finally reached our hotel, exhausted (Hotel Asia Center of Japan – 270 € for 3 nights with breakfast included).
I had planned this entire trip back in November 2020, but given the health situation at the time, I had to cancel...
Here’s the classic route we took:

We booked everything ourselves and got a regional pass for the area from Kyoto to Hiroshima. The hotels were reserved 3 months in advance on Book... and Agod... (1030 € for 2 people for 13 nights = 80 €/night). For the flight, we chose a Qatar Airways flight with a layover to break up the long journey (950 € per person). We also got a pass on the same site (Japan-Experience) to take the train connecting Narita Airport to Shibuya Station (the N'EX Narita Express). Since the airport is 75 km from central Tokyo, we opted for this mode of transport, even though there are cheaper alternatives. After reading various posts on VoyageForum, I understood how important it was to have a Welcome Suica card to pay for public transport (subway, tram, bus, boat throughout the country), and we were able to buy one at Narita Airport. It turned out to be super useful! After a long but smooth journey, we found ourselves at Narita Airport in the evening. Even though we had a pass for the Narita Express, we had to go to a counter to make a reservation for the train (mandatory). Then, once we arrived at Shibuya Station, we took the subway for 2 stops and finally reached our hotel, exhausted (Hotel Asia Center of Japan – 270 € for 3 nights with breakfast included).

Hi there!
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:

To be continued...
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:

To be continued...
Hi everyone,
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.

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!
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!
A little sneak peek?
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!
A little sneak peek?We went to Albania in August 2025.
Our itinerary included adventure (sporty activities, site visits), naps on the beach interspersed with swims, incredible natural sites, and a bit of culture.
I booked all our accommodations on Booking.com. Note: almost all places ask to be paid in cash!! You can obviously withdraw from banks, but the fees are pretty high. Luckily, we had plenty of cash, and the country is very safe. You can pay in euros most of the time, which avoids exchange fees. We started in Tirana. I’d read a really interesting post about Albania’s bunkers (link in my profile). We chose to visit Bunk’Art with a guide from the agency that wrote the post. It was fascinating—not only to better understand the country’s history but also because her grandfather was repressed by the regime, and she shared her family’s experience with us.
Bunkers are everywhere! In Tirana, Bunk’Art is the most interesting and largest. You’ll see the dictator Enver Hoxha’s office, where he would’ve taken refuge in case of an attack on the country. Bring a sweater—it’s really cold in the underground tunnels and their huge corridors. You can visit other bunkers around the country, in Tirana and elsewhere. Almost all are just abandoned. The cable car up Mount Dajti is right next to Bunk’Art. The view is stunning—you realize Tirana is so close to the mountains and the sea... But otherwise, it’s not that exciting for older teens (17 and 19) and their parents. We picked up a rental car in Tirana—it’d be ours for the next three weeks. We used Goalbania’s agency to avoid any hassles. First, there aren’t many cars available in Albania in summer. Second, French credit cards can be a nightmare abroad. So we preferred to sort that out in advance. After Tirana, we headed to Permet. Just a heads-up: the roads are in great condition except in the mountains. And Albanian drivers aren’t stressful to deal with. Though you might suddenly encounter a herd of goats crossing the road—haha—but if you’re not going too fast, it’s fine. In Permet, I’d been dreaming of rafting on the Vjosa, one of Europe’s last wild rivers. And we did it with a local agency! It’s beautiful, accessible to everyone, not too physical but still a bit lively—just how we like it. You can even jump into the river in some spots. In Permet, we also hiked through a canyon and visited a lovely little church.

And we took a workshop to make their local culinary pride: gliko. It’s a jam with whole fruits inside. We’d seen it on Goalbania’s site, and it was really fun. We were with a family where the secret to making gliko has been passed down for generations... Next, we headed to Gjirokastër. A city we loved: its old traditional houses (Skendulli and Zekate), its grand castle, the Ali Pasha Bridge. Along the way, we stopped for artisanal ice cream at a little shop run by a grandmother who’s been making it herself for ages.

One afternoon, my husband *had* to go to the coast in the south, to Ksamil (he’d read it was better than Sarandë). Verdict: we didn’t like it. Parking is a nightmare, the beaches are super noisy and crowded. The sea is packed with jet skis, boats, pedalos, and ropes. Avoid it.
On the other hand, we really liked Himarë, where we went next. We stayed at a campsite where we rented tents with mattresses and sheets inside. Right by the sea, on a low cliff (about 2 meters high). You can hear the waves at night... Magical!! To swim, you either jump straight into the sea (almost from the tent) or climb down a ladder, which you’ll need to climb back up to get out.

I was a little worried the campsite wouldn’t be very comfortable, so afterward, I’d booked a small place in Gjilek. Turns out, the place was really tiny (one room for four, no kitchen) and pretty expensive (over 100 € a night). We’d drive to the beach or restaurants—it’s on a steep slope, so not very accessible. Parking near the sea is tricky. But the (private) beaches were nice—we’d rent an umbrella not too close to the music and spend the day there. We also went to a wilder beach, harder to reach, via a long path. Behind the beach, there’s an amazing canyon where we’d sometimes climb using ropes (already in place, no need to bring your own) over big boulders rolled around by the stream, which must swell a lot in spring. So, the sea in Albania: it’s nice if you like swimming and relaxing, but it’s not the most interesting part of the country. There are so many other amazing things to see and discover—so many stunning sites! Maybe an agency could’ve helped us find more practical accommodations and avoid Ksamil and its surroundings. We left the coast to head to the beautiful city of Berat and its "thousand windows." We explored the city, its fortress, and its icon museum.

Then we discovered the Osum Canyon—it’s incredible. The view from the top is breathtaking. And at the bottom, it’s magical. There’s little water in summer, so rafting isn’t an option. We weren’t tempted by the big-tube descent offered by an agency—it looked fun, but the group had 40 people. We preferred hiking on our own as a family of four. We scouted the area on Google Maps... and found where to descend. We walked in the water, then it rose to our waists, then our shoulders... We weren’t moving fast. And how to get back up?? Eventually, we followed a group with a guide—the path was hard to find.

After that unforgettable hike, we visited the Bogovë Waterfalls. It’s pretty, and we swam, but the water was *really* cold. We passed through Tirana again and then headed to Shkodër. We explored a bit—its charming little streets, the Rozafa Fortress. There’s a tiny museum where you can see *huge* Ottoman stone cannonballs. And they tell you the (charming) story of the young woman who was walled alive in the castle’s foundations to ensure its strength... Shkodër is mostly a stopover to head into the mountains and discover Theth. Our goal: hiking in the Valbona Valley, from Valbona to Theth. We organized the trip ourselves, without an agency, but it took some time to figure everything out. So I’ll save you the trouble—haha. Book your tickets on the Komanilakeferry website. The ticket includes: 🙂 minibus transfer from downtown Shkodër to Koman 🙂 ferry ticket from Koman to Fierze. This ferry ride is *gorgeous*—between mountain slopes covered in pine trees, and sometimes a little house with a few fields...

🙂 minibus ticket from Fierze to Valbona. Now you’re in the mountains! The minibus drops you off near your accommodation—pick one as close as possible to the start of the hike (if that’s your goal!). The ones at the far end of the village add up to 1.5 hours of walking. Our choice: Guesthouse Dioni. The host is really lovely, it’s in the woods, and it’s basic but great. After a day of hiking, we arrived in Theth. What beautiful mountains! Then we explored Theth and the surrounding area. It’s pretty busy, but you can still enjoy the Blue Eye of Theth and its swim. It’s *so* cold! But so beautiful!

🙂 minibus ticket from Theth back to Shkodër. After a night in Shkodër, we drove to Kepi i Rodonit. A guidebook (I forget which one) raved about its beauty. And it *is* beautiful!

But the view is ruined by plastic bottles and other trash in the bushes, along the paths, and of course on the beaches. The only peaceful spot: the private beach at Kepi i Rodonit, which is cleaned. You can rent an umbrella and have lunch there. That’s where we spent our last few days—very relaxing. In short... Albania turned out to be perfect for us and our teens!
I booked all our accommodations on Booking.com. Note: almost all places ask to be paid in cash!! You can obviously withdraw from banks, but the fees are pretty high. Luckily, we had plenty of cash, and the country is very safe. You can pay in euros most of the time, which avoids exchange fees. We started in Tirana. I’d read a really interesting post about Albania’s bunkers (link in my profile). We chose to visit Bunk’Art with a guide from the agency that wrote the post. It was fascinating—not only to better understand the country’s history but also because her grandfather was repressed by the regime, and she shared her family’s experience with us.

Bunkers are everywhere! In Tirana, Bunk’Art is the most interesting and largest. You’ll see the dictator Enver Hoxha’s office, where he would’ve taken refuge in case of an attack on the country. Bring a sweater—it’s really cold in the underground tunnels and their huge corridors. You can visit other bunkers around the country, in Tirana and elsewhere. Almost all are just abandoned. The cable car up Mount Dajti is right next to Bunk’Art. The view is stunning—you realize Tirana is so close to the mountains and the sea... But otherwise, it’s not that exciting for older teens (17 and 19) and their parents. We picked up a rental car in Tirana—it’d be ours for the next three weeks. We used Goalbania’s agency to avoid any hassles. First, there aren’t many cars available in Albania in summer. Second, French credit cards can be a nightmare abroad. So we preferred to sort that out in advance. After Tirana, we headed to Permet. Just a heads-up: the roads are in great condition except in the mountains. And Albanian drivers aren’t stressful to deal with. Though you might suddenly encounter a herd of goats crossing the road—haha—but if you’re not going too fast, it’s fine. In Permet, I’d been dreaming of rafting on the Vjosa, one of Europe’s last wild rivers. And we did it with a local agency! It’s beautiful, accessible to everyone, not too physical but still a bit lively—just how we like it. You can even jump into the river in some spots. In Permet, we also hiked through a canyon and visited a lovely little church.

And we took a workshop to make their local culinary pride: gliko. It’s a jam with whole fruits inside. We’d seen it on Goalbania’s site, and it was really fun. We were with a family where the secret to making gliko has been passed down for generations... Next, we headed to Gjirokastër. A city we loved: its old traditional houses (Skendulli and Zekate), its grand castle, the Ali Pasha Bridge. Along the way, we stopped for artisanal ice cream at a little shop run by a grandmother who’s been making it herself for ages.

One afternoon, my husband *had* to go to the coast in the south, to Ksamil (he’d read it was better than Sarandë). Verdict: we didn’t like it. Parking is a nightmare, the beaches are super noisy and crowded. The sea is packed with jet skis, boats, pedalos, and ropes. Avoid it.
On the other hand, we really liked Himarë, where we went next. We stayed at a campsite where we rented tents with mattresses and sheets inside. Right by the sea, on a low cliff (about 2 meters high). You can hear the waves at night... Magical!! To swim, you either jump straight into the sea (almost from the tent) or climb down a ladder, which you’ll need to climb back up to get out.

I was a little worried the campsite wouldn’t be very comfortable, so afterward, I’d booked a small place in Gjilek. Turns out, the place was really tiny (one room for four, no kitchen) and pretty expensive (over 100 € a night). We’d drive to the beach or restaurants—it’s on a steep slope, so not very accessible. Parking near the sea is tricky. But the (private) beaches were nice—we’d rent an umbrella not too close to the music and spend the day there. We also went to a wilder beach, harder to reach, via a long path. Behind the beach, there’s an amazing canyon where we’d sometimes climb using ropes (already in place, no need to bring your own) over big boulders rolled around by the stream, which must swell a lot in spring. So, the sea in Albania: it’s nice if you like swimming and relaxing, but it’s not the most interesting part of the country. There are so many other amazing things to see and discover—so many stunning sites! Maybe an agency could’ve helped us find more practical accommodations and avoid Ksamil and its surroundings. We left the coast to head to the beautiful city of Berat and its "thousand windows." We explored the city, its fortress, and its icon museum.

Then we discovered the Osum Canyon—it’s incredible. The view from the top is breathtaking. And at the bottom, it’s magical. There’s little water in summer, so rafting isn’t an option. We weren’t tempted by the big-tube descent offered by an agency—it looked fun, but the group had 40 people. We preferred hiking on our own as a family of four. We scouted the area on Google Maps... and found where to descend. We walked in the water, then it rose to our waists, then our shoulders... We weren’t moving fast. And how to get back up?? Eventually, we followed a group with a guide—the path was hard to find.

After that unforgettable hike, we visited the Bogovë Waterfalls. It’s pretty, and we swam, but the water was *really* cold. We passed through Tirana again and then headed to Shkodër. We explored a bit—its charming little streets, the Rozafa Fortress. There’s a tiny museum where you can see *huge* Ottoman stone cannonballs. And they tell you the (charming) story of the young woman who was walled alive in the castle’s foundations to ensure its strength... Shkodër is mostly a stopover to head into the mountains and discover Theth. Our goal: hiking in the Valbona Valley, from Valbona to Theth. We organized the trip ourselves, without an agency, but it took some time to figure everything out. So I’ll save you the trouble—haha. Book your tickets on the Komanilakeferry website. The ticket includes: 🙂 minibus transfer from downtown Shkodër to Koman 🙂 ferry ticket from Koman to Fierze. This ferry ride is *gorgeous*—between mountain slopes covered in pine trees, and sometimes a little house with a few fields...

🙂 minibus ticket from Fierze to Valbona. Now you’re in the mountains! The minibus drops you off near your accommodation—pick one as close as possible to the start of the hike (if that’s your goal!). The ones at the far end of the village add up to 1.5 hours of walking. Our choice: Guesthouse Dioni. The host is really lovely, it’s in the woods, and it’s basic but great. After a day of hiking, we arrived in Theth. What beautiful mountains! Then we explored Theth and the surrounding area. It’s pretty busy, but you can still enjoy the Blue Eye of Theth and its swim. It’s *so* cold! But so beautiful!

🙂 minibus ticket from Theth back to Shkodër. After a night in Shkodër, we drove to Kepi i Rodonit. A guidebook (I forget which one) raved about its beauty. And it *is* beautiful!

But the view is ruined by plastic bottles and other trash in the bushes, along the paths, and of course on the beaches. The only peaceful spot: the private beach at Kepi i Rodonit, which is cleaned. You can rent an umbrella and have lunch there. That’s where we spent our last few days—very relaxing. In short... Albania turned out to be perfect for us and our teens!
A new work assignment means our vacation dates can't stay the same.
We had planned to go to the Canary Islands, but flight prices are skyrocketing with this new holiday schedule.
So, I’m looking for an alternative to Gran Canaria and El Hierro and found two round-trip flights with Wizz Air to Tirana.
398 €, including baggage and seats—perfect!
Plus, the departure and return times are great, which is pretty rare for a low-cost flight!
All that’s left is to rent a car, plan the route, and book accommodations.
With two weeks, we’ll have to make some choices!
Here’s the final itinerary: Shkodra (2 nights), Valbonë (3 nights), Tirana (1 night), Lake Ohrid (1 night), Korçë (1 night), Përmet (1 night), Gjirokastër (1 night), Himarë (2 nights), Berat (2 nights), and Krujë (1 night).
A mix of countryside and small towns, a bit of the Mediterranean, and some mountains!
Late October isn’t the best season, so let’s keep our fingers crossed for the rest...

We had planned to go to the Canary Islands, but flight prices are skyrocketing with this new holiday schedule.
So, I’m looking for an alternative to Gran Canaria and El Hierro and found two round-trip flights with Wizz Air to Tirana.
398 €, including baggage and seats—perfect!
Plus, the departure and return times are great, which is pretty rare for a low-cost flight!
All that’s left is to rent a car, plan the route, and book accommodations.
With two weeks, we’ll have to make some choices!
Here’s the final itinerary: Shkodra (2 nights), Valbonë (3 nights), Tirana (1 night), Lake Ohrid (1 night), Korçë (1 night), Përmet (1 night), Gjirokastër (1 night), Himarë (2 nights), Berat (2 nights), and Krujë (1 night).
A mix of countryside and small towns, a bit of the Mediterranean, and some mountains!
Late October isn’t the best season, so let’s keep our fingers crossed for the rest...

Hi there,
I’m diving into a recap of our loop—pretty classic, really—Denver-Yellowstone-Denver this past summer, from July 24 to August 17. Given the sheer number of trip reports already out there (or in the works), and since I don’t have the writing chops or the photography skills of many of you, I’ll keep it practical—well, I’ll try, at least—to share our take on some of the less-visited parks and spots.
First off, a huge thank you to everyone whose trip reports, blogs, websites, comments, and more helped us put together this itinerary. Looking back, it could’ve been even better optimized: a few disappointments when we missed out on some great discoveries, often because we were short on time. Plenty of reasons to come back to the area!
We’re traveling with our four (almost) teens—18, 16, 14, and nearly 12 years old. To keep the trip enjoyable for everyone, we had to make compromises on both sides: cutting a visit short to spend more time swimming, waking up at dawn, and so on. But logistics also played a big role—things like laundry, grocery shopping, and keeping luggage organized could’ve quickly become time-consuming without a little planning. And honestly, I think we visited every Walmart along the way! Blame it on the lack of fridges in some accommodations and, more importantly, the *very* limited space in the car, which made it impossible to bring a proper cooler. I’ll come back to the car saga later.
For accommodations, this year we alternated between basic cabins in KOA campgrounds and Yellowstone (when staying more than one night in the same place) and hotels. Always with a pool (except in Yellowstone, of course), which let the kids burn off energy—because they always have reserves, even after packed days!—and, let’s be honest, gave us a chance to relax. No Wi-Fi issues either; we all had plans with 25 GB of data (a big thanks to Gilles for the amazing deal at 0.99 €). It worked perfectly, even for texts and calls between phones—no extra charges.
Now, onto our route: as I mentioned, a classic Denver-Yellowstone-Denver loop. To avoid rushing through the parks or spending all our time on the road, we prioritized staying as close to them as possible, with at least two nights in each place. And I’ve got to say, it’s really nice to settle in, even if it’s just for two nights. It also helped us deal with the weather, which wasn’t always great during this trip. The trade-off? With vacation time being limited, some driving days ended up being long. We knew that going in, but since we kept a relaxed pace with no time constraints (don’t ask me for timings—I don’t keep track of the clock on vacation, except in the morning to get everyone up before noon!), we sometimes ended up with marathon days.
With that said, I’ll dive into the trip itself in the next post.
I’m diving into a recap of our loop—pretty classic, really—Denver-Yellowstone-Denver this past summer, from July 24 to August 17. Given the sheer number of trip reports already out there (or in the works), and since I don’t have the writing chops or the photography skills of many of you, I’ll keep it practical—well, I’ll try, at least—to share our take on some of the less-visited parks and spots.
First off, a huge thank you to everyone whose trip reports, blogs, websites, comments, and more helped us put together this itinerary. Looking back, it could’ve been even better optimized: a few disappointments when we missed out on some great discoveries, often because we were short on time. Plenty of reasons to come back to the area!
We’re traveling with our four (almost) teens—18, 16, 14, and nearly 12 years old. To keep the trip enjoyable for everyone, we had to make compromises on both sides: cutting a visit short to spend more time swimming, waking up at dawn, and so on. But logistics also played a big role—things like laundry, grocery shopping, and keeping luggage organized could’ve quickly become time-consuming without a little planning. And honestly, I think we visited every Walmart along the way! Blame it on the lack of fridges in some accommodations and, more importantly, the *very* limited space in the car, which made it impossible to bring a proper cooler. I’ll come back to the car saga later.
For accommodations, this year we alternated between basic cabins in KOA campgrounds and Yellowstone (when staying more than one night in the same place) and hotels. Always with a pool (except in Yellowstone, of course), which let the kids burn off energy—because they always have reserves, even after packed days!—and, let’s be honest, gave us a chance to relax. No Wi-Fi issues either; we all had plans with 25 GB of data (a big thanks to Gilles for the amazing deal at 0.99 €). It worked perfectly, even for texts and calls between phones—no extra charges.
Now, onto our route: as I mentioned, a classic Denver-Yellowstone-Denver loop. To avoid rushing through the parks or spending all our time on the road, we prioritized staying as close to them as possible, with at least two nights in each place. And I’ve got to say, it’s really nice to settle in, even if it’s just for two nights. It also helped us deal with the weather, which wasn’t always great during this trip. The trade-off? With vacation time being limited, some driving days ended up being long. We knew that going in, but since we kept a relaxed pace with no time constraints (don’t ask me for timings—I don’t keep track of the clock on vacation, except in the morning to get everyone up before noon!), we sometimes ended up with marathon days.
With that said, I’ll dive into the trip itself in the next post.
15 days across Gran Canaria, El Hierro, and a dash of Tenerife under the storm Thérèse!
The planned itinerary will be slightly disrupted...
(The version without discussions is here)
The planned itinerary will be slightly disrupted...
(The version without discussions is here)
Day 1 – February 14
We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?


We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?


And we still haven’t seen everything!
Before setting off for new horizons at the end of this year, it’s time for me to share my trip to Cape Verde this summer 2025.
I particularly love these spontaneous trips, and our stay in Cape Verde is one of those because it was only at the beginning of April that we decided on this getaway, which had been catching our eye for a while, given our love for the mountains.
As always—well, when it’s open—I turned to VF, and I want to immediately thank Marie, aka ptitortue, who helped me a lot in planning this trip through her travel journals and our exchanges!
Because Cape Verde is both small and vast! We decided not to rush from one airport to another, to enjoy the places and the people, but also to relax, since the work backlog from being stuck in May (see my previous travel journal 😅) had to be caught up on in June.
So, 4 islands will be our winners from 06/28 to 07/19:
Santiago first for logistical reasons, as round-trip flights from the capital Praia were the cheapest (650 €/person from Lyon via Lisbon with TAP, still!)
São Vicente, because it’s the gateway to the next one but ultimately more than that...
Santo Antão, pretty much the main goal of the trip since Marie (and the photos) had really sold it to me.
And finally, Sal Island, for some rest—a non-negotiable condition for my other half—and we’ll see that I should’ve listened to Marie...
That said, what a chatterbox I am—buckle up, flight attendants at the doors, off we go on new beautiful escapes! (Thanks to Sophie for the easy loan)
Last note for my eager fan club 😏: yes, there will be alcohol—how could there not be in the land of grogue!
It starts here:
https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=10790234;a=10790234

I particularly love these spontaneous trips, and our stay in Cape Verde is one of those because it was only at the beginning of April that we decided on this getaway, which had been catching our eye for a while, given our love for the mountains.
As always—well, when it’s open—I turned to VF, and I want to immediately thank Marie, aka ptitortue, who helped me a lot in planning this trip through her travel journals and our exchanges!
Because Cape Verde is both small and vast! We decided not to rush from one airport to another, to enjoy the places and the people, but also to relax, since the work backlog from being stuck in May (see my previous travel journal 😅) had to be caught up on in June.
So, 4 islands will be our winners from 06/28 to 07/19:
Santiago first for logistical reasons, as round-trip flights from the capital Praia were the cheapest (650 €/person from Lyon via Lisbon with TAP, still!)
São Vicente, because it’s the gateway to the next one but ultimately more than that...
Santo Antão, pretty much the main goal of the trip since Marie (and the photos) had really sold it to me.
And finally, Sal Island, for some rest—a non-negotiable condition for my other half—and we’ll see that I should’ve listened to Marie...
That said, what a chatterbox I am—buckle up, flight attendants at the doors, off we go on new beautiful escapes! (Thanks to Sophie for the easy loan)
Last note for my eager fan club 😏: yes, there will be alcohol—how could there not be in the land of grogue!
It starts here:
https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=10790234;a=10790234

Hello,
Since I enjoy not only the countryside but also everything related to rail travel, I’m starting this photo thread dedicated to trains in Thailand (I’d guess most of us have taken one at some point...).
Feel free to post your pictures here as long as they fit the theme: rolling stock**, stations**, platforms, tracks (even without a train on them), technical equipment, engineering structures (bridges, viaducts), etc.—all in Thailand.
For each photo, I’ll (or you can) note the station or line where it was taken.
Comments and questions are welcome.
* train ** interiors or exteriors
All aboard!
* train ** interiors or exteriors
All aboard!
As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I inherited my love of travel from my parents and some of my grandparents. A strong passion, but one that was unfortunately limited by our family’s modest resources. Back then, living in northern Alsace, a simple trip to the southern part of the region—with the Wine Route as our destination—felt like an extraordinary journey to a land of plenty for the little boy I was in the late 60s and early 70s.
Everything seemed so huge when you were still just a kid.
Back then, I was overwhelmed by countless sensations—I was already highly sensitive, with a keen mind and a nose and taste buds that were developing like a pro’s. Which, as I’d later realize, wasn’t always an advantage.

Those magical days always began with a gentle late-spring or midsummer morning. The interior of the white Peugeot 404, license plate 210 LZ 67, had already soaked up the sun before the engine purred to life, and the cabin gave off a scent I could still recognize today—a fragrance I found so pleasant. Back then, I had no idea it was just the smell of warm plastic from the car’s interior. Yes, the scents of the 404 on sunny days became my madeleine de Proust... What’s more, the whole family was unusually cheerful because those moments of relaxation and leisure were rare. Everyone worked, and no one had an easy job or was well paid. Without the *Trente Glorieuses*, these experiences might never have happened.

Once we crossed the canton’s borders, I felt like I was light-years away from my everyday surroundings, and every kilometer plunged me deeper into *terra incognita*. It was thrilling. Far from my so-called "medium-sized" town, wheat fields, cornfields, and cabbage patches stretched out, punctuated by tall poles connected by long wires and topped with vegetation—like giant clotheslines without laundry, where magical beanstalks might grow to touch the sky. Back then, I was still far from tasting their product, which was simply beer. At the time, there was still a significant local hop production. Fun fact: it wasn’t until 2002 that Anglo-Saxon scientists proved hops and cannabis belong to the same biological family.
After the fields, the landscape took another step up as it rolled past the little boy’s eyes, often glued to the windows. First came modest hills, then a succession of rolling slopes that soon formed an unbroken chain. Their 700 meters in altitude felt like Himalayan peaks to me—impressive, inert giants, a whole new world. Gazing at them, an intense emotion welled up somewhere between my stomach and lungs, nearly taking my breath away. What mysteries, what treasures did these heights hold? And then there were the cherries on top—the crowning touch that made the scene even more magical: proud, majestic castles perched on the summits like impassive sentinels. Monuments from the past, yet firmly rooted in the present on their rocky spurs. The little boy’s eyes sparkled—he’d been given a castle for Christmas, complete with battlements, towers, a drawbridge, and fully armed knights. He’d watched and lived *Ivanhoe* on the only French TV channel that existed back then.
Only once did my paternal grandfather join us on one of these trips. A tall, intelligent man with a face that could shift from stern to mischievous, clearly full of humor and charisma. Sadly, his relationship with alcohol had taken a toll on his life and, by extension, those of his loved ones. He had a strong personality—if his boss crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch him, which meant he went through a lot of different jobs. Back then, you could quit one job and easily find another. It was quite something to see him in his final stages, hallucinating pink elephants and even drinking perfume when he had nothing else left. The last time I saw him, he’d slipped away from the doctors and nurses while hospitalized in pretty bad shape—at least, I assume his liver was the issue. We were sitting down for a family lunch when the door burst open, and there he stood in his pajamas, eyes twinkling with mischief, clearly pleased with the dramatic entrance. That theatrical moment didn’t spare us from burying him a few months later at the age of 71. One day, my mother told me the family doctor had quietly remarked that it was a shame—with his robust constitution, he could’ve lived to be a hundred. Yes, the family doctor—this was the man who’d come treat you any day, at almost any hour, just for a phone call. It really existed, it’s not a myth!
That day, his wife—my paternal grandmother—was also along for the ride. Everyone agreed that Jeannette was a good woman. She worked as a waitress at *Le Tigre*, the biggest brasserie in town, right in the center. Most customers preferred to be served by her, including local dignitaries and even the mayor. As a kid, I didn’t find her very fun, open, or warm—she seemed a bit stern. Back then, women in their fifties already had the face and build of grandmothers. Same went for men, don’t get me wrong. I had no idea about the struggles she faced because of her husband. I didn’t know that 30 years earlier, she’d had to flee Alsace while pregnant, under threat from Nazi fighter-bombers. I didn’t know she’d had several miscarriages, and that my father—her only surviving child, born prematurely in March 1940 at the other end of France—weighed less than a kilo at birth and was so tiny he could fit in a shoebox. Hard to imagine he’d grow into a strapping man nearly 1.80 meters tall, tipping the scales at 100 kilos. When you come back from summer camp in early August and ask why she didn’t pick you up with your parents, and they gently tell you she’s "in heaven," you don’t realize she passed away at 54 after suffering greatly from stomach cancer that had spread.
Back to that family outing, that enchanted parenthesis. I even remembered where we’d had lunch when I passed through Dambach-la-Ville decades later. One of those charming, flower-filled towns Alsace produces in abundance—and preserves so well. This one sits high on a hill, and I was a bit stunned on the parking lot because the view stretched far, revealing the Alsace plain below—its fields, villages, hills, and forests. The world seemed so vast and enticing that day, even though I was only glimpsing a tiny fraction of it.

The region was already very touristy, but I wouldn’t notice the downsides until much later. That Sunday noon, I discovered a large restaurant filled with diners. I can still see the enormous piece of meat they served me, decorated with a little wooden skewer topped with a flag. I kept that one for a long time. Those were the golden days of rich, flowing, thick sauces—so flavorful—and the era of the world’s best fries, made on the spot with the best potatoes. To top it off, I was *exceptionally* allowed a small bottle of apple juice, Orangina, or—even better if possible—Sinalco. Yes, Sinalco—like Orangina, but better. A brand that must’ve disappeared in the 70s, but why, and what a shame! Since then, Orangina’s little bubbles have taken the brand to the other side of the planet—it’s now Japanese.
Year after year, I’d eagerly await that ecstatic moment when the most beautiful castle in Alsace, the Haut-Koenigsbourg, appeared in my field of vision. The perfect model, the archetype that blended into the landscape at the height of a child’s dreams. The trip home always felt like a reality check—less jarring than an alarm clock, but more diffuse and melancholic. From then on, there was only one wish: *When do we leave again?*

Those magical days always began with a gentle late-spring or midsummer morning. The interior of the white Peugeot 404, license plate 210 LZ 67, had already soaked up the sun before the engine purred to life, and the cabin gave off a scent I could still recognize today—a fragrance I found so pleasant. Back then, I had no idea it was just the smell of warm plastic from the car’s interior. Yes, the scents of the 404 on sunny days became my madeleine de Proust... What’s more, the whole family was unusually cheerful because those moments of relaxation and leisure were rare. Everyone worked, and no one had an easy job or was well paid. Without the *Trente Glorieuses*, these experiences might never have happened.

Once we crossed the canton’s borders, I felt like I was light-years away from my everyday surroundings, and every kilometer plunged me deeper into *terra incognita*. It was thrilling. Far from my so-called "medium-sized" town, wheat fields, cornfields, and cabbage patches stretched out, punctuated by tall poles connected by long wires and topped with vegetation—like giant clotheslines without laundry, where magical beanstalks might grow to touch the sky. Back then, I was still far from tasting their product, which was simply beer. At the time, there was still a significant local hop production. Fun fact: it wasn’t until 2002 that Anglo-Saxon scientists proved hops and cannabis belong to the same biological family.
After the fields, the landscape took another step up as it rolled past the little boy’s eyes, often glued to the windows. First came modest hills, then a succession of rolling slopes that soon formed an unbroken chain. Their 700 meters in altitude felt like Himalayan peaks to me—impressive, inert giants, a whole new world. Gazing at them, an intense emotion welled up somewhere between my stomach and lungs, nearly taking my breath away. What mysteries, what treasures did these heights hold? And then there were the cherries on top—the crowning touch that made the scene even more magical: proud, majestic castles perched on the summits like impassive sentinels. Monuments from the past, yet firmly rooted in the present on their rocky spurs. The little boy’s eyes sparkled—he’d been given a castle for Christmas, complete with battlements, towers, a drawbridge, and fully armed knights. He’d watched and lived *Ivanhoe* on the only French TV channel that existed back then.
Only once did my paternal grandfather join us on one of these trips. A tall, intelligent man with a face that could shift from stern to mischievous, clearly full of humor and charisma. Sadly, his relationship with alcohol had taken a toll on his life and, by extension, those of his loved ones. He had a strong personality—if his boss crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch him, which meant he went through a lot of different jobs. Back then, you could quit one job and easily find another. It was quite something to see him in his final stages, hallucinating pink elephants and even drinking perfume when he had nothing else left. The last time I saw him, he’d slipped away from the doctors and nurses while hospitalized in pretty bad shape—at least, I assume his liver was the issue. We were sitting down for a family lunch when the door burst open, and there he stood in his pajamas, eyes twinkling with mischief, clearly pleased with the dramatic entrance. That theatrical moment didn’t spare us from burying him a few months later at the age of 71. One day, my mother told me the family doctor had quietly remarked that it was a shame—with his robust constitution, he could’ve lived to be a hundred. Yes, the family doctor—this was the man who’d come treat you any day, at almost any hour, just for a phone call. It really existed, it’s not a myth!
That day, his wife—my paternal grandmother—was also along for the ride. Everyone agreed that Jeannette was a good woman. She worked as a waitress at *Le Tigre*, the biggest brasserie in town, right in the center. Most customers preferred to be served by her, including local dignitaries and even the mayor. As a kid, I didn’t find her very fun, open, or warm—she seemed a bit stern. Back then, women in their fifties already had the face and build of grandmothers. Same went for men, don’t get me wrong. I had no idea about the struggles she faced because of her husband. I didn’t know that 30 years earlier, she’d had to flee Alsace while pregnant, under threat from Nazi fighter-bombers. I didn’t know she’d had several miscarriages, and that my father—her only surviving child, born prematurely in March 1940 at the other end of France—weighed less than a kilo at birth and was so tiny he could fit in a shoebox. Hard to imagine he’d grow into a strapping man nearly 1.80 meters tall, tipping the scales at 100 kilos. When you come back from summer camp in early August and ask why she didn’t pick you up with your parents, and they gently tell you she’s "in heaven," you don’t realize she passed away at 54 after suffering greatly from stomach cancer that had spread.
Back to that family outing, that enchanted parenthesis. I even remembered where we’d had lunch when I passed through Dambach-la-Ville decades later. One of those charming, flower-filled towns Alsace produces in abundance—and preserves so well. This one sits high on a hill, and I was a bit stunned on the parking lot because the view stretched far, revealing the Alsace plain below—its fields, villages, hills, and forests. The world seemed so vast and enticing that day, even though I was only glimpsing a tiny fraction of it.

The region was already very touristy, but I wouldn’t notice the downsides until much later. That Sunday noon, I discovered a large restaurant filled with diners. I can still see the enormous piece of meat they served me, decorated with a little wooden skewer topped with a flag. I kept that one for a long time. Those were the golden days of rich, flowing, thick sauces—so flavorful—and the era of the world’s best fries, made on the spot with the best potatoes. To top it off, I was *exceptionally* allowed a small bottle of apple juice, Orangina, or—even better if possible—Sinalco. Yes, Sinalco—like Orangina, but better. A brand that must’ve disappeared in the 70s, but why, and what a shame! Since then, Orangina’s little bubbles have taken the brand to the other side of the planet—it’s now Japanese.
Year after year, I’d eagerly await that ecstatic moment when the most beautiful castle in Alsace, the Haut-Koenigsbourg, appeared in my field of vision. The perfect model, the archetype that blended into the landscape at the height of a child’s dreams. The trip home always felt like a reality check—less jarring than an alarm clock, but more diffuse and melancholic. From then on, there was only one wish: *When do we leave again?*
Hi there,
Here’s a recap of a trek through the Balkans covering three countries: Albania, Montenegro, and Kosovo. I was with a friend, and we didn’t do the full route (only one day in Kosovo).
It was a wonderful trek through snow-capped mountains and vast flower-filled meadows, meeting incredibly welcoming people.
At the end of the travel journal, I’ll share what I loved and what I liked less.
Day 1: Flight from Paris-Beauvais to Tirana with Wizz Air.
Since Albania isn’t part of Europe when it comes to phone service (at least not yet! :-)), we had to buy a physical SIM card—otherwise, the bill would’ve been sky-high if we’d used our French plan! We got one from Vodafone AL at the airport. You can buy online before leaving with a virtual SIM (e-SIM) for compatible phones, so you don’t have to swap cards. But given the uncertainty about choosing a plan online, we preferred buying one directly at Tirana Airport. Cost: 31 € for 100 GB. That’s way too much—100 GB is overkill. For 40 GB, it’s 27 €, and the plan lasts 21 days. The price difference isn’t huge, and it was cheaper than online. This plan covers all the countries along the Balkan range.
Money tip: All guesthouses and accommodations accept euros. The local currency in Albania is the LEK. In Montenegro, it’s the euro. Bank fees for withdrawing money from an ATM in Albania are pretty steep: 8 € for a withdrawal of 600–700 LEK (about 200 €)! So it’s better to withdraw cash (euros) in France. Oh, and we booked all our accommodations before leaving, but payment is always in cash. Budget around 400–500 € for 9 days of trekking.
Then, a transfer the same day to Shköder, about a 2-hour bus ride. Cost: 10 € per person. Tickets bought directly on the bus. We spent the night in Shköder at a very clean guesthouse, Open Doors B&B. It had a small balcony overlooking the city.
I really liked Shköder, especially its pedestrian street lined with restaurants and lit up at night. It’s a great place to stroll and eat. The food isn’t expensive—two big salads and two beers: 14 € :-) . Fruit prices are also very reasonable: 3 € for a kilo of cherries, compared to 9–10 € in France.
Religions coexist peacefully in these countries—Catholics and Muslims. From our balcony, my friend heard the call to prayer for the first time, coming from one of the city’s mosques.

Day 2: Bus ride to Theth, about 1,100 meters in elevation gain, the starting point for our hike the next day.
The trip took 2 hours and 40 minutes with a break in the middle. The bus was affordable, but taxis also make the trip—though they’re very expensive.

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

The family was adorable. The husband is a handyman and built almost everything himself. Their baby is named "Sky"—such a cute name, right? :-) Throughout the trek, I found the guesthouses very clean, and the hosts think of everything—no need to bring soap or shampoo; they provide it. Lunch in Theth at a traditional restaurant on the main road. We tried "Tave Dheu," an Albanian dish with beef, cabbage (very common), and cottage cheese. Delicious but not quite filling enough. For dessert, a honey cake that was perfectly moist—such a treat! Desserts like this are rare; sometimes they serve watermelon instead. We took a small private bus for 5 € to the "Blue Eye" parking lot, then walked for about 45 minutes to reach a stunning natural site—a kind of lagoon with incredibly blue water. The bravest can swim, but the water’s freezing!



That evening, we dined at "La Montagne Blanche"—excellent! A delightful mix of grilled meats with potatoes and grilled peppers. Some watermelon slices (which I’m not a fan of) and the famous Raki, a brandy served in Turkey and the Balkans! It was my first time drinking brandy "bottoms up." 😉
To be continued... 😉
Day 1: Flight from Paris-Beauvais to Tirana with Wizz Air.
Since Albania isn’t part of Europe when it comes to phone service (at least not yet! :-)), we had to buy a physical SIM card—otherwise, the bill would’ve been sky-high if we’d used our French plan! We got one from Vodafone AL at the airport. You can buy online before leaving with a virtual SIM (e-SIM) for compatible phones, so you don’t have to swap cards. But given the uncertainty about choosing a plan online, we preferred buying one directly at Tirana Airport. Cost: 31 € for 100 GB. That’s way too much—100 GB is overkill. For 40 GB, it’s 27 €, and the plan lasts 21 days. The price difference isn’t huge, and it was cheaper than online. This plan covers all the countries along the Balkan range.
Money tip: All guesthouses and accommodations accept euros. The local currency in Albania is the LEK. In Montenegro, it’s the euro. Bank fees for withdrawing money from an ATM in Albania are pretty steep: 8 € for a withdrawal of 600–700 LEK (about 200 €)! So it’s better to withdraw cash (euros) in France. Oh, and we booked all our accommodations before leaving, but payment is always in cash. Budget around 400–500 € for 9 days of trekking.Then, a transfer the same day to Shköder, about a 2-hour bus ride. Cost: 10 € per person. Tickets bought directly on the bus. We spent the night in Shköder at a very clean guesthouse, Open Doors B&B. It had a small balcony overlooking the city.
I really liked Shköder, especially its pedestrian street lined with restaurants and lit up at night. It’s a great place to stroll and eat. The food isn’t expensive—two big salads and two beers: 14 € :-) . Fruit prices are also very reasonable: 3 € for a kilo of cherries, compared to 9–10 € in France.
Religions coexist peacefully in these countries—Catholics and Muslims. From our balcony, my friend heard the call to prayer for the first time, coming from one of the city’s mosques.

Day 2: Bus ride to Theth, about 1,100 meters in elevation gain, the starting point for our hike the next day.
The trip took 2 hours and 40 minutes with a break in the middle. The bus was affordable, but taxis also make the trip—though they’re very expensive.

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

The family was adorable. The husband is a handyman and built almost everything himself. Their baby is named "Sky"—such a cute name, right? :-) Throughout the trek, I found the guesthouses very clean, and the hosts think of everything—no need to bring soap or shampoo; they provide it. Lunch in Theth at a traditional restaurant on the main road. We tried "Tave Dheu," an Albanian dish with beef, cabbage (very common), and cottage cheese. Delicious but not quite filling enough. For dessert, a honey cake that was perfectly moist—such a treat! Desserts like this are rare; sometimes they serve watermelon instead. We took a small private bus for 5 € to the "Blue Eye" parking lot, then walked for about 45 minutes to reach a stunning natural site—a kind of lagoon with incredibly blue water. The bravest can swim, but the water’s freezing!



That evening, we dined at "La Montagne Blanche"—excellent! A delightful mix of grilled meats with potatoes and grilled peppers. Some watermelon slices (which I’m not a fan of) and the famous Raki, a brandy served in Turkey and the Balkans! It was my first time drinking brandy "bottoms up." 😉
To be continued... 😉
Hi everyone,
I’d like to share my family trip to Colombia with kids aged 8. After spending hours browsing the forum and only having two weeks there, we decided to focus on two regions: the Coffee Zone for one week and the Caribbean coast for another. We traveled from August 8 to 23.
Day 1 – First stop: Bogotá
We arrived in Bogotá in the evening on an Air France flight—nothing to complain about, decent service, comfortable, and on time. However, the first night was a miss. We’d booked a hotel near the airport (Abitel Prime) for convenience, but the soundproofing was almost nonexistent; we heard planes as if we were on the runway. Luckily, exhaustion helped us sleep well anyway.
Day 2 – Off to the Coffee Zone and Salento
The next morning, we headed to the airport for a domestic flight to Pereira with LATAM. No issues: punctual and efficient, and in 30 minutes, we landed in Pereira. The landing already set a different mood: lush valleys, endless plantations, and humid air. We picked up our rental car from Localiza. Unfortunately, the experience wasn’t smooth—the paperwork took forever, and the wait tested our patience. Finally free, we hit the road to Salento, one of Quindío’s gems. We arrived in the late afternoon and discovered a colorful village bustling with artisan shops and cafés. Our first stroll helped us soak in the atmosphere before dinner at Bambú restaurant—a great surprise with careful cooking and local flavors. We spent the night at Casa Serafín, a charming little hotel, nicely decorated and well-located… but unfortunately very noisy.
Day 3 – The magic of Cocora Valley
This was one of the trip’s highlights. We set off early for Cocora Valley, famous for its giant wax palms, Colombia’s emblem. We chose the 12 km loop recommended by the *Routard*. The landscapes were spectacular: towering palms, rivers, suspension bridges. It felt like walking through a postcard. The weather was perfect. That evening, we dined at Barnabé restaurant—pleasant setting, decent food, but the bill was a bit steep for what it was. Back to Casa Serafín.
Day 4 – Coffee and panoramic views
The plan was a visit to Finca El Ocaso. For 1.5 hours, we followed a passionate guide who explained the entire coffee process, from harvest to cup. Very educational, accessible for both kids and adults, all in a stunning setting. The tour was in English for us, and we translated for our kids, who aren’t bilingual yet. In the afternoon, we climbed to Salento’s viewpoint. The valley view was superb. That evening, we ate at Veggie Garden, a simple and pleasant spot that was a nice change from the heavier meals of previous days.
Day 5 – Horseback ride to Santa Rita Waterfall
We booked a horseback ride with Cocora Magic. It was a real success: calm horses, a beautiful trail, mountain and meadow landscapes, and finally the refreshing and wild Santa Rita Waterfall. Without a doubt, one of the best moments of our time in the region. We even got a bonus ride up a 300-meter hill. We then headed to Filandia, less known than Salento but just as charming. We spent the late afternoon enjoying the pool at MuchoSur Filandia. The hotel is beautiful, in an idyllic setting. However, we also had soundproofing issues and could hear our neighbors.
Day 6 – Rainy detour through Filandia and Manizales
Rain caught up with us in the early morning: torrents of water made it impossible to go out. We stayed at the hotel, reading quietly. By noon, the rain let up: a quick walk in Filandia, a quick lunch, then off to Manizales. We chose to stay at El Otoño hot springs. Great choice: as soon as we arrived, we plunged into the hot pools, perfect after hours on the road.
Day 7 – Hiking and hot springs
In the morning, we hiked the Camino de Super Coco (found somewhat randomly on Google). A pleasant trail with mountain views and a peaceful atmosphere. The afternoon was spent in the hotel’s thermal pools, with a short marked hike down to the river. Dinner on-site at the hot springs’ restaurant. A simple but very relaxing day.
Day 8 – Rain, jacuzzi, and games
We continued to Finca Los Alpes. The rain greeted us again, but this time it turned into an asset: nothing like a steaming jacuzzi with a view of the misty mountains. The kids enjoyed the facilities too: mini-golf, ping-pong, billiards. Dinner and night at the hotel, cozy vibes.
Day 9 – Off to the Caribbean coast
Back to the airport to return the car (still a bit long). Flight to Cartagena with Avianca: punctual and comfortable. Upon arrival, we picked up another car and headed straight to the Hyatt Regency, a modern hotel with a pool. That evening, we dined at the hotel—practical after a travel day.
Day 10 – Colonial Cartagena
We set off to explore Cartagena’s old town. It was enchanting: colorful facades, flowered balconies, colonial charm—just magical. However, the heat was stifling and very humid. Afternoon relaxation by the pool. Dinner at Gestlani, a good restaurant in town.
Day 11 – Road to Barú
A hearty breakfast, then one last swim in the pool before heading to Barú. We checked into Las Islas Hotel. The setting was enchanting: wooden cabins nestled in the vegetation, a private beach, turquoise sea, impeccable service. Dinner at the hotel’s restaurant.
Day 12 – Beach and relaxation
A full beach day in Barú. Warm water, white sand, coconut trees, peace and quiet. A real postcard scene with iguanas and birds.
Day 13 – On to Santa Marta
Another morning at the beach before hitting the road to Santa Marta. The drive was a bit long (6 hours), especially with traffic jams in Barranquilla. It was the longest car ride of the trip. We spent the night at Villa María Tayrona, a beautiful place near the park.
Day 14 – Tayrona Park
We left early for Tayrona Park. We entered through **El Zaino**, parked the car, and set off on a hike to La Piscina (about 2 hours). We stopped along the way at Playa Arenilla, a stunning little beach, to rest. Lunch on-site, a swim, then back by 4 PM. The hike was a bit tiring, but the nature was spectacular: dense jungle, the sound of waves, and even a monkey encounter along the way. Evening and dinner at the hotel.
Day 15 – Last swim and return flight to Bogotá
Our last morning was split between the pool and the beach (the hotel has direct access via a 7-minute trail through vegetation and flowers)—hard to leave this paradise. We drove to Santa Marta’s airport to return the car, then flew back to Bogotá. We spent the night at Casa Dann Carlton, a comfortable hotel. We simply ordered room service, arriving too late to go out.
Day 16 – Bogotá and the end of the trip
Our last day in Colombia. After a good breakfast, we explored La Candelaria. Its cobbled streets and colorful houses were worth the visit. We visited the Botero Museum (free) and the Gold Museum, both fascinating. Back to the airport for our 11:55 PM Air France flight.
That’s a wrap on a varied trip—lush mountains, colorful villages, dream beaches, and tropical jungle. The pace was pretty relaxed, well-suited for our kids. They absolutely loved the trip to Colombia. Driving in Colombia was very easy, and we didn’t regret renting a car at all—it gave us more freedom to get around.
If I were to do it again, here’s what I’d change: - I’d spend less time in the Coffee Zone to stay a bit longer on the Caribbean coast, which was more relaxing for the kids. Or I’d head to Medellín, but I didn’t think the city was very kid-friendly. - Bogotá is a city that deserves a day’s visit, but it’s not a must-see. Maybe I’d have taken the KLM flight from Cartagena to Amsterdam instead.
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate!
Antoine
I’d like to share my family trip to Colombia with kids aged 8. After spending hours browsing the forum and only having two weeks there, we decided to focus on two regions: the Coffee Zone for one week and the Caribbean coast for another. We traveled from August 8 to 23.
Day 1 – First stop: Bogotá
We arrived in Bogotá in the evening on an Air France flight—nothing to complain about, decent service, comfortable, and on time. However, the first night was a miss. We’d booked a hotel near the airport (Abitel Prime) for convenience, but the soundproofing was almost nonexistent; we heard planes as if we were on the runway. Luckily, exhaustion helped us sleep well anyway.
Day 2 – Off to the Coffee Zone and Salento
The next morning, we headed to the airport for a domestic flight to Pereira with LATAM. No issues: punctual and efficient, and in 30 minutes, we landed in Pereira. The landing already set a different mood: lush valleys, endless plantations, and humid air. We picked up our rental car from Localiza. Unfortunately, the experience wasn’t smooth—the paperwork took forever, and the wait tested our patience. Finally free, we hit the road to Salento, one of Quindío’s gems. We arrived in the late afternoon and discovered a colorful village bustling with artisan shops and cafés. Our first stroll helped us soak in the atmosphere before dinner at Bambú restaurant—a great surprise with careful cooking and local flavors. We spent the night at Casa Serafín, a charming little hotel, nicely decorated and well-located… but unfortunately very noisy.
Day 3 – The magic of Cocora Valley
This was one of the trip’s highlights. We set off early for Cocora Valley, famous for its giant wax palms, Colombia’s emblem. We chose the 12 km loop recommended by the *Routard*. The landscapes were spectacular: towering palms, rivers, suspension bridges. It felt like walking through a postcard. The weather was perfect. That evening, we dined at Barnabé restaurant—pleasant setting, decent food, but the bill was a bit steep for what it was. Back to Casa Serafín.
Day 4 – Coffee and panoramic views
The plan was a visit to Finca El Ocaso. For 1.5 hours, we followed a passionate guide who explained the entire coffee process, from harvest to cup. Very educational, accessible for both kids and adults, all in a stunning setting. The tour was in English for us, and we translated for our kids, who aren’t bilingual yet. In the afternoon, we climbed to Salento’s viewpoint. The valley view was superb. That evening, we ate at Veggie Garden, a simple and pleasant spot that was a nice change from the heavier meals of previous days.
Day 5 – Horseback ride to Santa Rita Waterfall
We booked a horseback ride with Cocora Magic. It was a real success: calm horses, a beautiful trail, mountain and meadow landscapes, and finally the refreshing and wild Santa Rita Waterfall. Without a doubt, one of the best moments of our time in the region. We even got a bonus ride up a 300-meter hill. We then headed to Filandia, less known than Salento but just as charming. We spent the late afternoon enjoying the pool at MuchoSur Filandia. The hotel is beautiful, in an idyllic setting. However, we also had soundproofing issues and could hear our neighbors.
Day 6 – Rainy detour through Filandia and Manizales
Rain caught up with us in the early morning: torrents of water made it impossible to go out. We stayed at the hotel, reading quietly. By noon, the rain let up: a quick walk in Filandia, a quick lunch, then off to Manizales. We chose to stay at El Otoño hot springs. Great choice: as soon as we arrived, we plunged into the hot pools, perfect after hours on the road.
Day 7 – Hiking and hot springs
In the morning, we hiked the Camino de Super Coco (found somewhat randomly on Google). A pleasant trail with mountain views and a peaceful atmosphere. The afternoon was spent in the hotel’s thermal pools, with a short marked hike down to the river. Dinner on-site at the hot springs’ restaurant. A simple but very relaxing day.
Day 8 – Rain, jacuzzi, and games
We continued to Finca Los Alpes. The rain greeted us again, but this time it turned into an asset: nothing like a steaming jacuzzi with a view of the misty mountains. The kids enjoyed the facilities too: mini-golf, ping-pong, billiards. Dinner and night at the hotel, cozy vibes.
Day 9 – Off to the Caribbean coast
Back to the airport to return the car (still a bit long). Flight to Cartagena with Avianca: punctual and comfortable. Upon arrival, we picked up another car and headed straight to the Hyatt Regency, a modern hotel with a pool. That evening, we dined at the hotel—practical after a travel day.
Day 10 – Colonial Cartagena
We set off to explore Cartagena’s old town. It was enchanting: colorful facades, flowered balconies, colonial charm—just magical. However, the heat was stifling and very humid. Afternoon relaxation by the pool. Dinner at Gestlani, a good restaurant in town.
Day 11 – Road to Barú
A hearty breakfast, then one last swim in the pool before heading to Barú. We checked into Las Islas Hotel. The setting was enchanting: wooden cabins nestled in the vegetation, a private beach, turquoise sea, impeccable service. Dinner at the hotel’s restaurant.
Day 12 – Beach and relaxation
A full beach day in Barú. Warm water, white sand, coconut trees, peace and quiet. A real postcard scene with iguanas and birds.
Day 13 – On to Santa Marta
Another morning at the beach before hitting the road to Santa Marta. The drive was a bit long (6 hours), especially with traffic jams in Barranquilla. It was the longest car ride of the trip. We spent the night at Villa María Tayrona, a beautiful place near the park.
Day 14 – Tayrona Park
We left early for Tayrona Park. We entered through **El Zaino**, parked the car, and set off on a hike to La Piscina (about 2 hours). We stopped along the way at Playa Arenilla, a stunning little beach, to rest. Lunch on-site, a swim, then back by 4 PM. The hike was a bit tiring, but the nature was spectacular: dense jungle, the sound of waves, and even a monkey encounter along the way. Evening and dinner at the hotel.
Day 15 – Last swim and return flight to Bogotá
Our last morning was split between the pool and the beach (the hotel has direct access via a 7-minute trail through vegetation and flowers)—hard to leave this paradise. We drove to Santa Marta’s airport to return the car, then flew back to Bogotá. We spent the night at Casa Dann Carlton, a comfortable hotel. We simply ordered room service, arriving too late to go out.
Day 16 – Bogotá and the end of the trip
Our last day in Colombia. After a good breakfast, we explored La Candelaria. Its cobbled streets and colorful houses were worth the visit. We visited the Botero Museum (free) and the Gold Museum, both fascinating. Back to the airport for our 11:55 PM Air France flight.
That’s a wrap on a varied trip—lush mountains, colorful villages, dream beaches, and tropical jungle. The pace was pretty relaxed, well-suited for our kids. They absolutely loved the trip to Colombia. Driving in Colombia was very easy, and we didn’t regret renting a car at all—it gave us more freedom to get around.
If I were to do it again, here’s what I’d change: - I’d spend less time in the Coffee Zone to stay a bit longer on the Caribbean coast, which was more relaxing for the kids. Or I’d head to Medellín, but I didn’t think the city was very kid-friendly. - Bogotá is a city that deserves a day’s visit, but it’s not a must-see. Maybe I’d have taken the KLM flight from Cartagena to Amsterdam instead.
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate!
Antoine
Since I didn’t have time to write a proper travel journal, I thought I’d share a few photos of Bologna—a really lovely city I discovered in 2017 while stopping on my way to Tuscany.
Around Piazza Maggiore, which was packed with a stage and chairs for a show, stands the Basilica of San Petronio, massive and Gothic in style, with an unfinished façade (a common sight in Italy).



Another building near the square:
But Bologna’s real charm lies in its porticoes, which were added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2021: 62 km of arcades running along buildings, letting you walk sheltered from the sun or rain. Back in 1288, the city required houses to include private arcades for public use. In the city center, you can stroll under 32 km of porticoes in all sorts of styles—some plain, some ornate—with a strong presence of red tones.



Another building near the square:
But Bologna’s real charm lies in its porticoes, which were added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2021: 62 km of arcades running along buildings, letting you walk sheltered from the sun or rain. Back in 1288, the city required houses to include private arcades for public use. In the city center, you can stroll under 32 km of porticoes in all sorts of styles—some plain, some ornate—with a strong presence of red tones.Okay, it wasn’t a total disaster either. Actually, I hesitated before starting this travel journal: is it even worth writing about a holiday that won’t leave an unforgettable memory?
In the end, I went for it (there aren’t many recent travel journals about this destination).
So, read on... or don’t .
Every time we’ve been to the Canary Islands, it’s been by default (basically: where can we go in winter or early spring when we only have a week—so not too far, not too much jet lag, but with decent weather?).
This time, we had two weeks, but the winter plan kept changing: first Thailand (dropped for personal reasons), then Martinique (dropped because of work leave dates that weren’t up to me), and finally, the Canary Islands.
We’ve already been to Tenerife (which we really liked) and Lanzarote (which we liked a little less). This year, two options: Gran Canaria or one of the smaller islands west of Tenerife (La Palma, or even La Gomera or El Hierro). We chose Gran Canaria... not sure it was the right call! Whose fault is it? Storm Thérèse’s! Yes, Storm Thérèse followed us on arrival, and its effects lasted quite a while. We had to adapt, cancel visits, change activities...
But even without Thérèse...
Saturday 21/03 Departure from Orly at 6:10 AM with Transavia. The plane took off on time and landed a little early, tossed around by strong winds before touching down. It had just rained, but it was (almost) no longer raining.

We quickly picked up our luggage and then the car at the Cicar counter. We got a Seat Arona instead of the Corsa we’d booked. Well, while the driving position didn’t feel great at first (I got used to it), the engine’s smoothness and power were much appreciated on the island’s winding and sometimes steep roads.
It was only 10 AM, and we couldn’t theoretically check into our accommodation until 3 PM (the owner promised to message me if it was ready earlier). So, we headed to the (big) *Jardín Botánico Viera y Clavijo*, where we planned to spend a few hours. We found a huge parking lot... empty. The passenger in the car in front of us (yes, we weren’t the only ones at the closed gate—there was a car in front and one behind) went to ask for info: it was closed due to the storm 😕. So, we calmly headed toward Puerto de las Nieves, on the northwest coast of the island.
The plan: go to a restaurant, visit the village, and do some shopping while waiting for early afternoon. As soon as we got out of the car, it started raining... we took shelter under the awning of a shop, waiting for it to pass. But the rain turned into a downpour, and within minutes, awning or not, Gore-Tex or not, we were soaked!
Since we were already wet, we might as well go to the restaurant—they weren’t far! But here’s the thing: contrary to what Google Maps said, they all opened at 1 PM, not noon! Back to the car, wading through 5 cm of water because all the village streets were flooded . The rain let up, we did some shopping, went to eat, and I got a message from the owner saying the accommodation was ready 🙂.
So, off we went to La Suerte, a few kilometers north of Agaete. The downside of the place, especially with luggage, is that you have to climb several flights of stairs via an outdoor staircase (after parking more or less far away on a steep street) to get there 😛). Of course, on the way from the car to the apartment, it started pouring again—the bags got soaked! Enough rain for today! We settled in quietly, and by late afternoon, we could (finally!) go admire the view from the terrace.

Every time we’ve been to the Canary Islands, it’s been by default (basically: where can we go in winter or early spring when we only have a week—so not too far, not too much jet lag, but with decent weather?).
This time, we had two weeks, but the winter plan kept changing: first Thailand (dropped for personal reasons), then Martinique (dropped because of work leave dates that weren’t up to me), and finally, the Canary Islands.
We’ve already been to Tenerife (which we really liked) and Lanzarote (which we liked a little less). This year, two options: Gran Canaria or one of the smaller islands west of Tenerife (La Palma, or even La Gomera or El Hierro). We chose Gran Canaria... not sure it was the right call! Whose fault is it? Storm Thérèse’s! Yes, Storm Thérèse followed us on arrival, and its effects lasted quite a while. We had to adapt, cancel visits, change activities...
But even without Thérèse...
Saturday 21/03 Departure from Orly at 6:10 AM with Transavia. The plane took off on time and landed a little early, tossed around by strong winds before touching down. It had just rained, but it was (almost) no longer raining.

We quickly picked up our luggage and then the car at the Cicar counter. We got a Seat Arona instead of the Corsa we’d booked. Well, while the driving position didn’t feel great at first (I got used to it), the engine’s smoothness and power were much appreciated on the island’s winding and sometimes steep roads.
It was only 10 AM, and we couldn’t theoretically check into our accommodation until 3 PM (the owner promised to message me if it was ready earlier). So, we headed to the (big) *Jardín Botánico Viera y Clavijo*, where we planned to spend a few hours. We found a huge parking lot... empty. The passenger in the car in front of us (yes, we weren’t the only ones at the closed gate—there was a car in front and one behind) went to ask for info: it was closed due to the storm 😕. So, we calmly headed toward Puerto de las Nieves, on the northwest coast of the island.
The plan: go to a restaurant, visit the village, and do some shopping while waiting for early afternoon. As soon as we got out of the car, it started raining... we took shelter under the awning of a shop, waiting for it to pass. But the rain turned into a downpour, and within minutes, awning or not, Gore-Tex or not, we were soaked!
Since we were already wet, we might as well go to the restaurant—they weren’t far! But here’s the thing: contrary to what Google Maps said, they all opened at 1 PM, not noon! Back to the car, wading through 5 cm of water because all the village streets were flooded . The rain let up, we did some shopping, went to eat, and I got a message from the owner saying the accommodation was ready 🙂.
So, off we went to La Suerte, a few kilometers north of Agaete. The downside of the place, especially with luggage, is that you have to climb several flights of stairs via an outdoor staircase (after parking more or less far away on a steep street) to get there 😛). Of course, on the way from the car to the apartment, it started pouring again—the bags got soaked! Enough rain for today! We settled in quietly, and by late afternoon, we could (finally!) go admire the view from the terrace.

Lanzarote Travel Journal
Trip Planning My partner and I are heading to the Canary Islands for a week at the end of September, specifically to Lanzarote. We chose this island over the more crowded ones for its volcanic landscape and the variety of hikes it offers. I booked everything through Expedia: our hotel stay, car rental, and Ryanair flight tickets departing from Marseille. It was the only way to get a direct flight. To make getting around easier during our stay, I picked a hotel located in the center of the island from the wide selection available. It’s part of the Barceló chain, specifically the "Barceló Teguise Beach Adults Only" in Teguise Beach, which turned out to be an excellent choice.
The Trip
Sunday, September 21 - Monday, September 22 Departure It’s 2:15 PM, and we’re at the Avignon TGV station. Danielle picked us up earlier due to the weather—thunderstorms and heavy rain all the way to the station. The TGV was on time, and it only took 30 minutes to reach Marseille Saint-Charles. The shuttle to the airport is quick and convenient, right behind the station. The bus leaves for the airport in the middle of the storm, with flooded roads and cars stuck in some spots. We get soaked making our way to the terminal. Two hours to wait before the flight. The plane finally takes off at midnight, but just before landing, the pilot announces that the destination airport is closed, and we’re being diverted to Tenerife. Ryanair will re-route us as soon as possible. We end up waiting 2 hours, and Ryanair kindly gives us a 4 € voucher. We re-board around 5:15 AM and take off at 6:00 AM. About 45 minutes to reach Lanzarote. After collecting our luggage, we head to the car rental desk. The counter in the terminal is closed, and we’re directed to parking lot P4—it takes us a while to find it. I’m a bit worried about the rental company’s reaction since the car was supposed to be picked up 7 hours earlier, but it’s not a problem. A woman next to us is furious because she’s in the same situation, and her rental was canceled. Anne-Marie translates for her, but nothing changes. We pick up a brand-new Toyota Aigo and head to the hotel. After checking in, we cross the garden, walking alongside the large pool to reach our room. A lovely first-floor room with a jacuzzi and a sea view. It’s early, so we head to breakfast—a generously stocked and varied buffet with everything you could want. Afterward, we drive to Cueva de los Verdes, but it’s packed with people and a long wait. We decide to come back another day. Next, we visit Mirador Del Rio. This rocky viewpoint at the edge of the island has breathtaking cliffs plunging 500 meters into the ocean. The view is stunning and impressive. A panoramic bar lets you cool off while enjoying the scenery. We return to the hotel for a short walk around the neighborhood and enjoy the beautiful pool with its pleasant water temperature. Relaxing by the pool, sun loungers, and all. In the evening, a very varied buffet at the restaurant. Then early to bed to recover from the sleepless night before.
Tuesday, September 23 After a restful night, we enjoy another varied and hearty breakfast. The terrace seating is very pleasant. We take an inland road leading to Timanfaya National Park. The road near the park runs alongside vineyards where the vines are surrounded by lava stone walls to protect them from the prevailing winds. Our first stop is at the visitor center, where the island’s volcanic activity is well-documented. Next, we stop at an area where you can take a short camel ride—two seats are installed on either side of the camel’s hump. This little ride offers a great view of the volcanic landscape from a higher vantage point. A fair price of 11 € per seat for a 20-minute ride. We then head to the park entrance via the road leading to the parking lot, where only authorized buses can take the winding route inside the park. It’s crowded, and we wait about 45 minutes with several stops before reaching the parking lot. We board the bus, and the route offers beautiful views of this volcanic area and its many craters. The journey is very interesting, with several stops for photos. At the parking lot, a guide shows us how the heat from the rocks beneath the surface can ignite dry vegetation. Water poured into holes in the ground immediately creates geysers and jets of steam. The building next to the parking lot has a restaurant where meat is cooked using the heat from a well dug into the volcanic rock. On our way back, we drive to Playa Blanca, a seaside town with a small sandy beach.
Back at the hotel in the late afternoon for dinner.
Wednesday, September 24 We wake up early and have a quick breakfast—few people are around at this hour. Two days ago, we booked a 10:00 AM visit to Los Verdes, lava tunnels created by eruptions and lava flows from the La Corona volcano, which extended all the way to the coast. When the lava came into contact with the air, it solidified on the surface while continuing to flow underneath. The lava tunnels stretch for 8 kilometers to the volcano, but we only walk one kilometer. The inside of the tunnel is impressive, with narrow passages and larger chambers. You can see traces left by the flowing liquid lava—varied colors and twisted shapes. At the end of the path, a large chamber has been turned into a concert hall with perfect acoustics. Next, we visit Jameo Del Agua. This is a continuation of the lava tunnel, developed by Manrique. There are beautifully designed bar and restaurant areas, as well as an underground lake where you can see small blind white crabs—a protected species in this very pure water. Higher up, there’s a lovely space with a central pool that could double as a swimming area, surrounded by beautifully designed white pathways that contrast with the blue water. Further on, you reach a large space inside the lava tunnel, set up as a performance hall with perfect acoustics. Stairs let you view this beautiful space from above. A gap in the lava landscape reveals the ocean on the horizon. We head back toward the village of Yé, at the foot of the La Corona volcano. A 160-meter walk from the church, a path crosses vineyard plots and then climbs to the top of the volcano’s crater in about 30 minutes. It’s the island’s highest volcano. When you reach the edge of the crater, you see how deep it is, with steep slopes inside forming a large circular opening. The place is breathtaking and awe-inspiring. We drive back to the hotel via a road that climbs quickly, offering a beautiful view of the island’s northern part.
Thursday, September 25 After another enjoyable and varied breakfast, we head to the center of the island toward the volcano park and stop at a roadside parking lot where a path leads to the Montana Cuervo volcano. This is a crater that opened on one side. During an eruption, an explosion created a breach in the crater. Huge blocks of rock were thrown dozens of meters away. The path goes through the breach and descends into the crater, allowing you to walk around it. It’s impressive, and you really feel small and fragile in this environment. The crater walls, with their different colors, highlight the rock formations. The crater is surrounded by a sea of lava with sharp, jagged rocks. You can walk around the outside of the crater, but it’s not very interesting. We then head to the west coast, stopping at a spot with a small green lake next to a beautiful black sand beach. Next, we stop at Salinas de Janubio, a lovely viewpoint overlooking the salt marshes with different water colors. A small shop sells various local products. We then head to the famous Papagayo beach. The road ends at a booth where they charge 3 € to continue. From here, the land is private, and you have to pay to drive down a 3-kilometer rocky dirt road. Quite a few cars are driving along it, kicking up clouds of dust. The car gets a dusty makeover. We arrive at a large parking area, with several paths leading to different small beaches. We go to Papagayo, a small blonde sand beach surrounded by red rocks. The beach slopes gently into the water, which is a pleasant temperature. The setting is charming and peaceful. We stay for a while before heading back to the hotel.
Friday, September 26 We start with a visit to the César Manrique Foundation in Tahiche. This was originally one of his homes. The modern construction spans several levels and is integrated into the lava flow, using the gaps to create living spaces. Large windows make the rooms bright and open to the scenery. The place is pleasant, with flower-filled gardens outside. It’s well worth a visit. Next, we drive to Las Grietas, where a path leads to a narrow crack in the volcanic rock, forming a tight passage where only one person can walk at a time. The passage isn’t very long, but progress is slow due to the endless selfies being taken here. We then stop at Casa Del Camposino, a renovated farm that houses several artisan shops. We taste a local wine recommended by a charming woman and buy two bottles of Lanzarote red wine on her advice. Now, we head to Tamara beach, a beautiful and wide beach at the foot of high cliffs. There are always great waves here, making it a surfer’s paradise. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at the cactus garden, César Manrique’s final creation. Designed with a great sense of aesthetics around an old windmill, it features 4,500 varieties of cacti in various shapes, all in a beautiful setting. We return to the hotel in the late afternoon for the evening.
Saturday, September 27 After another hearty breakfast, we head north to Haria. We stumble upon another of César Manrique’s homes, where he lived for a long time. This house is more traditional than the previous one but still has large, modern, and very pleasant rooms. At the back of the garden is his large studio, where he created his works. Next, we visit the craft market—this was our original plan. Various stalls offer local items, and it’s very crowded. No room at the café terraces to sit down. We then return to Famara beach for a long stay. There are always great waves here, much to the surfers’ delight. The water temperature is pleasant, and we enjoy it. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at a gas station to refill the car, which has been very fuel-efficient. Gas is also much cheaper here than in France—1.16 € per liter of SP95. We also wash the car, which was very dusty after the long dirt road to Papagayo beach. At the hotel, we enjoy a farewell cocktail before dinner.
Sunday, September 28 We spend the morning by the hotel pool before checking out at noon. For lunch, we go to a restaurant called "Dona Lola," near the hotel, with a terrace offering a view of the coast. We order tuna carpaccio, which is delicious. We then head to the airport, just 15 minutes away. We return the rental car and go to the airport. A long line to check in our luggage. The return flight is on time. A shuttle bus takes us to Saint-Charles station. We then head to our overnight rental. The boulevard slopes down, making it easier with the suitcases. The rental is between the old port and the train station. Once there, we pick up the keys and make one last effort to carry the luggage up to the third floor. The studio is nice, clean, and simply equipped—perfect for one night.
Trip Planning My partner and I are heading to the Canary Islands for a week at the end of September, specifically to Lanzarote. We chose this island over the more crowded ones for its volcanic landscape and the variety of hikes it offers. I booked everything through Expedia: our hotel stay, car rental, and Ryanair flight tickets departing from Marseille. It was the only way to get a direct flight. To make getting around easier during our stay, I picked a hotel located in the center of the island from the wide selection available. It’s part of the Barceló chain, specifically the "Barceló Teguise Beach Adults Only" in Teguise Beach, which turned out to be an excellent choice.
The Trip
Sunday, September 21 - Monday, September 22 Departure It’s 2:15 PM, and we’re at the Avignon TGV station. Danielle picked us up earlier due to the weather—thunderstorms and heavy rain all the way to the station. The TGV was on time, and it only took 30 minutes to reach Marseille Saint-Charles. The shuttle to the airport is quick and convenient, right behind the station. The bus leaves for the airport in the middle of the storm, with flooded roads and cars stuck in some spots. We get soaked making our way to the terminal. Two hours to wait before the flight. The plane finally takes off at midnight, but just before landing, the pilot announces that the destination airport is closed, and we’re being diverted to Tenerife. Ryanair will re-route us as soon as possible. We end up waiting 2 hours, and Ryanair kindly gives us a 4 € voucher. We re-board around 5:15 AM and take off at 6:00 AM. About 45 minutes to reach Lanzarote. After collecting our luggage, we head to the car rental desk. The counter in the terminal is closed, and we’re directed to parking lot P4—it takes us a while to find it. I’m a bit worried about the rental company’s reaction since the car was supposed to be picked up 7 hours earlier, but it’s not a problem. A woman next to us is furious because she’s in the same situation, and her rental was canceled. Anne-Marie translates for her, but nothing changes. We pick up a brand-new Toyota Aigo and head to the hotel. After checking in, we cross the garden, walking alongside the large pool to reach our room. A lovely first-floor room with a jacuzzi and a sea view. It’s early, so we head to breakfast—a generously stocked and varied buffet with everything you could want. Afterward, we drive to Cueva de los Verdes, but it’s packed with people and a long wait. We decide to come back another day. Next, we visit Mirador Del Rio. This rocky viewpoint at the edge of the island has breathtaking cliffs plunging 500 meters into the ocean. The view is stunning and impressive. A panoramic bar lets you cool off while enjoying the scenery. We return to the hotel for a short walk around the neighborhood and enjoy the beautiful pool with its pleasant water temperature. Relaxing by the pool, sun loungers, and all. In the evening, a very varied buffet at the restaurant. Then early to bed to recover from the sleepless night before.
Tuesday, September 23 After a restful night, we enjoy another varied and hearty breakfast. The terrace seating is very pleasant. We take an inland road leading to Timanfaya National Park. The road near the park runs alongside vineyards where the vines are surrounded by lava stone walls to protect them from the prevailing winds. Our first stop is at the visitor center, where the island’s volcanic activity is well-documented. Next, we stop at an area where you can take a short camel ride—two seats are installed on either side of the camel’s hump. This little ride offers a great view of the volcanic landscape from a higher vantage point. A fair price of 11 € per seat for a 20-minute ride. We then head to the park entrance via the road leading to the parking lot, where only authorized buses can take the winding route inside the park. It’s crowded, and we wait about 45 minutes with several stops before reaching the parking lot. We board the bus, and the route offers beautiful views of this volcanic area and its many craters. The journey is very interesting, with several stops for photos. At the parking lot, a guide shows us how the heat from the rocks beneath the surface can ignite dry vegetation. Water poured into holes in the ground immediately creates geysers and jets of steam. The building next to the parking lot has a restaurant where meat is cooked using the heat from a well dug into the volcanic rock. On our way back, we drive to Playa Blanca, a seaside town with a small sandy beach.
Back at the hotel in the late afternoon for dinner.
Wednesday, September 24 We wake up early and have a quick breakfast—few people are around at this hour. Two days ago, we booked a 10:00 AM visit to Los Verdes, lava tunnels created by eruptions and lava flows from the La Corona volcano, which extended all the way to the coast. When the lava came into contact with the air, it solidified on the surface while continuing to flow underneath. The lava tunnels stretch for 8 kilometers to the volcano, but we only walk one kilometer. The inside of the tunnel is impressive, with narrow passages and larger chambers. You can see traces left by the flowing liquid lava—varied colors and twisted shapes. At the end of the path, a large chamber has been turned into a concert hall with perfect acoustics. Next, we visit Jameo Del Agua. This is a continuation of the lava tunnel, developed by Manrique. There are beautifully designed bar and restaurant areas, as well as an underground lake where you can see small blind white crabs—a protected species in this very pure water. Higher up, there’s a lovely space with a central pool that could double as a swimming area, surrounded by beautifully designed white pathways that contrast with the blue water. Further on, you reach a large space inside the lava tunnel, set up as a performance hall with perfect acoustics. Stairs let you view this beautiful space from above. A gap in the lava landscape reveals the ocean on the horizon. We head back toward the village of Yé, at the foot of the La Corona volcano. A 160-meter walk from the church, a path crosses vineyard plots and then climbs to the top of the volcano’s crater in about 30 minutes. It’s the island’s highest volcano. When you reach the edge of the crater, you see how deep it is, with steep slopes inside forming a large circular opening. The place is breathtaking and awe-inspiring. We drive back to the hotel via a road that climbs quickly, offering a beautiful view of the island’s northern part.
Thursday, September 25 After another enjoyable and varied breakfast, we head to the center of the island toward the volcano park and stop at a roadside parking lot where a path leads to the Montana Cuervo volcano. This is a crater that opened on one side. During an eruption, an explosion created a breach in the crater. Huge blocks of rock were thrown dozens of meters away. The path goes through the breach and descends into the crater, allowing you to walk around it. It’s impressive, and you really feel small and fragile in this environment. The crater walls, with their different colors, highlight the rock formations. The crater is surrounded by a sea of lava with sharp, jagged rocks. You can walk around the outside of the crater, but it’s not very interesting. We then head to the west coast, stopping at a spot with a small green lake next to a beautiful black sand beach. Next, we stop at Salinas de Janubio, a lovely viewpoint overlooking the salt marshes with different water colors. A small shop sells various local products. We then head to the famous Papagayo beach. The road ends at a booth where they charge 3 € to continue. From here, the land is private, and you have to pay to drive down a 3-kilometer rocky dirt road. Quite a few cars are driving along it, kicking up clouds of dust. The car gets a dusty makeover. We arrive at a large parking area, with several paths leading to different small beaches. We go to Papagayo, a small blonde sand beach surrounded by red rocks. The beach slopes gently into the water, which is a pleasant temperature. The setting is charming and peaceful. We stay for a while before heading back to the hotel.
Friday, September 26 We start with a visit to the César Manrique Foundation in Tahiche. This was originally one of his homes. The modern construction spans several levels and is integrated into the lava flow, using the gaps to create living spaces. Large windows make the rooms bright and open to the scenery. The place is pleasant, with flower-filled gardens outside. It’s well worth a visit. Next, we drive to Las Grietas, where a path leads to a narrow crack in the volcanic rock, forming a tight passage where only one person can walk at a time. The passage isn’t very long, but progress is slow due to the endless selfies being taken here. We then stop at Casa Del Camposino, a renovated farm that houses several artisan shops. We taste a local wine recommended by a charming woman and buy two bottles of Lanzarote red wine on her advice. Now, we head to Tamara beach, a beautiful and wide beach at the foot of high cliffs. There are always great waves here, making it a surfer’s paradise. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at the cactus garden, César Manrique’s final creation. Designed with a great sense of aesthetics around an old windmill, it features 4,500 varieties of cacti in various shapes, all in a beautiful setting. We return to the hotel in the late afternoon for the evening.
Saturday, September 27 After another hearty breakfast, we head north to Haria. We stumble upon another of César Manrique’s homes, where he lived for a long time. This house is more traditional than the previous one but still has large, modern, and very pleasant rooms. At the back of the garden is his large studio, where he created his works. Next, we visit the craft market—this was our original plan. Various stalls offer local items, and it’s very crowded. No room at the café terraces to sit down. We then return to Famara beach for a long stay. There are always great waves here, much to the surfers’ delight. The water temperature is pleasant, and we enjoy it. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at a gas station to refill the car, which has been very fuel-efficient. Gas is also much cheaper here than in France—1.16 € per liter of SP95. We also wash the car, which was very dusty after the long dirt road to Papagayo beach. At the hotel, we enjoy a farewell cocktail before dinner.
Sunday, September 28 We spend the morning by the hotel pool before checking out at noon. For lunch, we go to a restaurant called "Dona Lola," near the hotel, with a terrace offering a view of the coast. We order tuna carpaccio, which is delicious. We then head to the airport, just 15 minutes away. We return the rental car and go to the airport. A long line to check in our luggage. The return flight is on time. A shuttle bus takes us to Saint-Charles station. We then head to our overnight rental. The boulevard slopes down, making it easier with the suitcases. The rental is between the old port and the train station. Once there, we pick up the keys and make one last effort to carry the luggage up to the third floor. The studio is nice, clean, and simply equipped—perfect for one night.
You can post your personal photos in the following thread: https://voyageforum.com/forum/quelque-part-en-thailande-d10655574/
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style. All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert. 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 deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about 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 guardians 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 yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs. It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that 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? 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 full of holes for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding 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. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field. A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding 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 animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and 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 there 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 just for fun—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.
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 a year at most in Thailand, and I’m no great expert. 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 deliver a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who feel nostalgic about 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 guardians 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 yard. Be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs. It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t all that 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? 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 full of holes for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the roadside, sometimes right on the road. When you approach, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, reminding 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. When you see a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you think twice about running into them at the edge of a field. A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at death’s door in temples, enduring terrible suffering with no one to help. The image (and the smell) of one of them, agonizing and exuding 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 animal, well-fed, quickly became a happy and 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 there 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 just for fun—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.
Hi everyone,
I’m a newbie to this forum, passionate about wildlife, the landscapes of East Africa, and Tanzania in particular. This June 2024 trip/safari is our 7th visit to Tanzania and our 5th in the south, which has drawn us more than the north ever since we discovered it in 2015.
In 2024, the entrance fees for the reserves and services have gone up again since our last visit. I chose to return first to Mikumi Reserve, which was the very first one we visited in the south. Then, we’ll head to Selous (J. Nyerere N. P.) as usual. Initially, we wanted to spend 2/3 days on Mafia Island at the end of the trip, but it made the total cost too high, so we gave up... We usually go to Ruaha and Selous, but I wanted to mix it up a bit—also to save some money...
As for the timing, June is a new experience for us. I thought it might be interesting to come just after the lodges reopen... hoping for some great wildlife encounters??
The trip starts in Marseille with our first flight on Ethiopian Airlines to Addis Ababa, then continues to Dar es Salaam, where we’ll finally set foot on Tanzanian soil again.
In Addis... "our" A-350.

.....
After arriving in Dar, we spent one night at a hotel near the airport. The next morning, we headed to the domestic flights terminal, which hasn’t changed in years.
By mid-morning, we boarded a Cessna 208B Caravan with Safari Air Link, heading to the Kikoboga bush airstrip in Mikumi, which we reached 45 minutes later. Fun fact: the pilot was the same one as on our return flight two years ago.
Welcome on board:

Of course, a driver/guide team from our chosen lodge was waiting for us upon arrival:

I was surprised to see so many aircraft parked there... even twin-engine Embraer Brasilias?? As a fan of vintage planes, I loved it...

On the other hand, the light was incredibly harsh.....!! Our guides only speak English. We knew that in advance. In the south, it’s very rare to find someone who speaks French. This’ll force us to dig into our high school English memories... from 60 years ago... at least.
It’s noon, and we head toward the lodge. Near the airstrip, next to the Mikumi rangers’ base, there are quite a few herbivores. They find a bit more peace here—the big cats don’t venture this way...
Our first encounter was a group of Masai giraffes.


Rarer (for us), a savanna monitor lizard basking in the sun right in the middle of the track...??

A large gathering of impalas (mostly males) along with a few blue wildebeest:


Also unusual: a African crowned hornbill taking a dust bath in the middle of the track...!!

When it comes to identifying mammals or birds, I don’t know everything... so I might make mistakes. Please forgive me. I’m counting on my friend Blesl’s active participation... 😉
...
I’m a newbie to this forum, passionate about wildlife, the landscapes of East Africa, and Tanzania in particular. This June 2024 trip/safari is our 7th visit to Tanzania and our 5th in the south, which has drawn us more than the north ever since we discovered it in 2015.
In 2024, the entrance fees for the reserves and services have gone up again since our last visit. I chose to return first to Mikumi Reserve, which was the very first one we visited in the south. Then, we’ll head to Selous (J. Nyerere N. P.) as usual. Initially, we wanted to spend 2/3 days on Mafia Island at the end of the trip, but it made the total cost too high, so we gave up... We usually go to Ruaha and Selous, but I wanted to mix it up a bit—also to save some money...
As for the timing, June is a new experience for us. I thought it might be interesting to come just after the lodges reopen... hoping for some great wildlife encounters??
The trip starts in Marseille with our first flight on Ethiopian Airlines to Addis Ababa, then continues to Dar es Salaam, where we’ll finally set foot on Tanzanian soil again.
In Addis... "our" A-350.

.....
After arriving in Dar, we spent one night at a hotel near the airport. The next morning, we headed to the domestic flights terminal, which hasn’t changed in years.
By mid-morning, we boarded a Cessna 208B Caravan with Safari Air Link, heading to the Kikoboga bush airstrip in Mikumi, which we reached 45 minutes later. Fun fact: the pilot was the same one as on our return flight two years ago.
Welcome on board:

Of course, a driver/guide team from our chosen lodge was waiting for us upon arrival:

I was surprised to see so many aircraft parked there... even twin-engine Embraer Brasilias?? As a fan of vintage planes, I loved it...

On the other hand, the light was incredibly harsh.....!! Our guides only speak English. We knew that in advance. In the south, it’s very rare to find someone who speaks French. This’ll force us to dig into our high school English memories... from 60 years ago... at least.
It’s noon, and we head toward the lodge. Near the airstrip, next to the Mikumi rangers’ base, there are quite a few herbivores. They find a bit more peace here—the big cats don’t venture this way...
Our first encounter was a group of Masai giraffes.


Rarer (for us), a savanna monitor lizard basking in the sun right in the middle of the track...??

A large gathering of impalas (mostly males) along with a few blue wildebeest:


Also unusual: a African crowned hornbill taking a dust bath in the middle of the track...!!

When it comes to identifying mammals or birds, I don’t know everything... so I might make mistakes. Please forgive me. I’m counting on my friend Blesl’s active participation... 😉
...
Hi there,
Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.
It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected. Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel. I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability. So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.
I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:
Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras
Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya
Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat
Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott
Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou
To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog: From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations
Happy reading, and safe travels!
Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.
It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected. Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel. I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability. So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.
I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:
Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras
Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya
Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat
Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott
Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou
To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog: From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations
Happy reading, and safe travels!
Hi there,
On this forum, I shared my first trip to Tunisia from mid-February to early March (https://voyageforum.com/forum/impressions-tunisiennes-en-direct-d11460662/), a stay I enjoyed so much that six weeks later, I’m back in Tunisia for a full 15 days (I return on April 27).
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.


TO BE CONTINUED....
On this forum, I shared my first trip to Tunisia from mid-February to early March (https://voyageforum.com/forum/impressions-tunisiennes-en-direct-d11460662/), a stay I enjoyed so much that six weeks later, I’m back in Tunisia for a full 15 days (I return on April 27).
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.


TO BE CONTINUED....
Hi everyone,
Just back from two weeks in Andalusia, and I wanted to share this experience with you—maybe it’ll help with planning a trip. I’ll start with a quick recap in this post and try to add photos and day-by-day details later (still sorting through them). Hope I don’t bore you too much! 😎
Trip details:
April 20 to May 4, 2019:
7 days on the Costa de la Luz (El Puerto de Santa María) in an Airbnb,
4 days at the junction of the Costa del Sol and Costa Tropical (Salobreña) in an Airbnb,
3 days at Cabo de Gata for some rest at a campsite in Los Escullos.
Two families of four, each with our own car: three 9-year-old boys and a 6-year-old girl. One family was more into city exploration (not us, but we’re working on it), and the other preferred relaxation and nature (that’s us). We speak a little Spanish.
Over 5,000 km, including 2,500 km for the round trip from Carcassonne.
The weather: Variable, but we expected better for this region in late April. The first week on the Costa de la Luz was sometimes chilly (< 20°C), and the second week was warmer but not excessive (< 25°C). At least we didn’t get much rain!
Our budget: Around 2600 € per family:
700 € for accommodations, about 50 € per night,
1000 € for meals and restaurants. We usually spent around 50 € per family at restaurants—we ate out for lunch (except for 2–3 picnics) and cooked at home in the evenings, trying to be back by 6 PM.
600 € for activities: Río Tinto, a flamenco show, visits to the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar, Oasis Park with meals, and a kayaking trip.
300 € for gas and tolls.
Preparation: A few months ahead with bookings for accommodations and tickets for the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar. We used a few travel guides—I like the *Évasion* guide for initial planning. *Géoguide* was okay, but our friends’ *Routard* was the most useful. We also spent three months brushing up on Spanish with Mosalingua (a great spaced-repetition method, max 10 minutes a day). Downloaded Maps.me and the Andalusia map in advance—essential. And we used Tricount to track shared expenses with friends—super handy.
What we did/saw:
3 city visits (Seville, Granada, and Cádiz) + Málaga for our friends (we vetoed Córdoba—too many cities for us).
4 white villages (Vejer de la Frontera, Arcos de la Frontera, Grazalema, Ronda) + Tarifa for our friends.
Beaches (Tarifa and Bolonia, Matalascañas, Nerja, Cabo de Gata).
Nature and fun moments: Doñana National Park, a kayaking trip along the rocky coast near Nerja, and the Wild West/animal park in the Tabernas Desert.
A little culture: Río Tinto mines, the archaeological site of Itálica, Columbus’s caravels, Nerja Cave for us, and the Picasso Museum in Málaga for our friends. Plus, seeing the ham-drying process in the Alpujarras (for our friends).
Our highlights
Nerja and the surrounding villages: The rocky coast was amazing, and we loved the kayaking trip, even if the water was freezing for snorkeling. The beaches are sheltered from the wind, the town is charming, and the cave is incredible.
El Rocío and Doñana National Park. El Rocío has a timeless, almost Wild West vibe—we could’ve stayed a day or two. The quiet and pine scents reminded us of the Landes region.
What we didn’t love as much:
Río Tinto mines: Not super exciting, and the guides’ nonstop chatter kind of ruined the "nature" experience.
Our little regrets (for next time):
Forgetting our passports and missing a day trip to Tangier from Tarifa.
Not having an extra day around Nerja to go snowboarding in the Sierra Nevada—just 1.5 hours away (the kayak guide suggested it).
Not spending at least one night in El Rocío to explore Doñana National Park at dawn.
Antequera with the Guadalhorce reservoir and the Caminito del Rey (but it would’ve meant 2 more hours of driving, and we didn’t have the energy).
My general impressions of Andalusia and Spain
Landscapes: A feeling of extreme concentration of a single activity in some areas—endless olive groves, wind farms on the Costa de la Luz (which I thought were well-integrated), rows of buildings along the Costa del Sol (yikes, glad we didn’t stop there), greenhouses around Almería (a shame to have frozen the coast for so many kilometers), and the massive industrial port of Huelva.
What surprised us compared to France was the lack of small hamlets—villages are clearly defined, and people cluster there, leaving vast landscapes without human presence. In France, you find houses scattered everywhere.
Roads: Relatively few tolls. Sure, rest areas aren’t as nice as in France, but the roads are in good condition, and our wallet was happy. The roads are pretty straight with countless bridges and tunnels—the upside (besides fast travel) is that there aren’t many secondary roads disrupting the scenery.
Tourism and activities: A huge variety and richness. Feels like everyone can find something they like, and 15 days barely scratched the surface. It’s amazing how quickly you go from the coast to snow-capped peaks (Sierra Nevada) or from farmland to desert (Tabernas). And the mix of European and Arabic architecture in the same city is really special.
One small regret: Not interacting more with locals. We didn’t luck out with our Airbnbs. But shopkeepers were great—very patient with my broken Spanish! :-)
Overall, I think our choice to stay on the Costa de la Luz and then near Nerja worked well. We could explore pretty easily (even if we logged a lot of kilometers), and the settings were fantastic. The 3 days of total relaxation at Cabo de Gata were perfect.
If you prefer shorter stops, you could try staying in El Rocío (easy access to Seville and great for an early visit to Doñana National Park) or maybe Grazalema for a hike in the mountains (weather-dependent). And of course, Tarifa for a day trip to Tangier or Gibraltar.
More details and photos to come soon!
Laurent
Just back from two weeks in Andalusia, and I wanted to share this experience with you—maybe it’ll help with planning a trip. I’ll start with a quick recap in this post and try to add photos and day-by-day details later (still sorting through them). Hope I don’t bore you too much! 😎
Trip details:
April 20 to May 4, 2019:
7 days on the Costa de la Luz (El Puerto de Santa María) in an Airbnb,
4 days at the junction of the Costa del Sol and Costa Tropical (Salobreña) in an Airbnb,
3 days at Cabo de Gata for some rest at a campsite in Los Escullos.
Two families of four, each with our own car: three 9-year-old boys and a 6-year-old girl. One family was more into city exploration (not us, but we’re working on it), and the other preferred relaxation and nature (that’s us). We speak a little Spanish.
Over 5,000 km, including 2,500 km for the round trip from Carcassonne.
The weather: Variable, but we expected better for this region in late April. The first week on the Costa de la Luz was sometimes chilly (< 20°C), and the second week was warmer but not excessive (< 25°C). At least we didn’t get much rain!
Our budget: Around 2600 € per family:
700 € for accommodations, about 50 € per night,
1000 € for meals and restaurants. We usually spent around 50 € per family at restaurants—we ate out for lunch (except for 2–3 picnics) and cooked at home in the evenings, trying to be back by 6 PM.
600 € for activities: Río Tinto, a flamenco show, visits to the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar, Oasis Park with meals, and a kayaking trip.
300 € for gas and tolls.
Preparation: A few months ahead with bookings for accommodations and tickets for the Alhambra, Giralda, and Alcázar. We used a few travel guides—I like the *Évasion* guide for initial planning. *Géoguide* was okay, but our friends’ *Routard* was the most useful. We also spent three months brushing up on Spanish with Mosalingua (a great spaced-repetition method, max 10 minutes a day). Downloaded Maps.me and the Andalusia map in advance—essential. And we used Tricount to track shared expenses with friends—super handy.
What we did/saw:
3 city visits (Seville, Granada, and Cádiz) + Málaga for our friends (we vetoed Córdoba—too many cities for us).
4 white villages (Vejer de la Frontera, Arcos de la Frontera, Grazalema, Ronda) + Tarifa for our friends.
Beaches (Tarifa and Bolonia, Matalascañas, Nerja, Cabo de Gata).
Nature and fun moments: Doñana National Park, a kayaking trip along the rocky coast near Nerja, and the Wild West/animal park in the Tabernas Desert.
A little culture: Río Tinto mines, the archaeological site of Itálica, Columbus’s caravels, Nerja Cave for us, and the Picasso Museum in Málaga for our friends. Plus, seeing the ham-drying process in the Alpujarras (for our friends).
Our highlights
Nerja and the surrounding villages: The rocky coast was amazing, and we loved the kayaking trip, even if the water was freezing for snorkeling. The beaches are sheltered from the wind, the town is charming, and the cave is incredible.
El Rocío and Doñana National Park. El Rocío has a timeless, almost Wild West vibe—we could’ve stayed a day or two. The quiet and pine scents reminded us of the Landes region.
What we didn’t love as much:
Río Tinto mines: Not super exciting, and the guides’ nonstop chatter kind of ruined the "nature" experience.
Our little regrets (for next time):
Forgetting our passports and missing a day trip to Tangier from Tarifa.
Not having an extra day around Nerja to go snowboarding in the Sierra Nevada—just 1.5 hours away (the kayak guide suggested it).
Not spending at least one night in El Rocío to explore Doñana National Park at dawn.
Antequera with the Guadalhorce reservoir and the Caminito del Rey (but it would’ve meant 2 more hours of driving, and we didn’t have the energy).
My general impressions of Andalusia and Spain
Landscapes: A feeling of extreme concentration of a single activity in some areas—endless olive groves, wind farms on the Costa de la Luz (which I thought were well-integrated), rows of buildings along the Costa del Sol (yikes, glad we didn’t stop there), greenhouses around Almería (a shame to have frozen the coast for so many kilometers), and the massive industrial port of Huelva.
What surprised us compared to France was the lack of small hamlets—villages are clearly defined, and people cluster there, leaving vast landscapes without human presence. In France, you find houses scattered everywhere.
Roads: Relatively few tolls. Sure, rest areas aren’t as nice as in France, but the roads are in good condition, and our wallet was happy. The roads are pretty straight with countless bridges and tunnels—the upside (besides fast travel) is that there aren’t many secondary roads disrupting the scenery.
Tourism and activities: A huge variety and richness. Feels like everyone can find something they like, and 15 days barely scratched the surface. It’s amazing how quickly you go from the coast to snow-capped peaks (Sierra Nevada) or from farmland to desert (Tabernas). And the mix of European and Arabic architecture in the same city is really special.
One small regret: Not interacting more with locals. We didn’t luck out with our Airbnbs. But shopkeepers were great—very patient with my broken Spanish! :-)
Overall, I think our choice to stay on the Costa de la Luz and then near Nerja worked well. We could explore pretty easily (even if we logged a lot of kilometers), and the settings were fantastic. The 3 days of total relaxation at Cabo de Gata were perfect.
If you prefer shorter stops, you could try staying in El Rocío (easy access to Seville and great for an early visit to Doñana National Park) or maybe Grazalema for a hike in the mountains (weather-dependent). And of course, Tarifa for a day trip to Tangier or Gibraltar.
More details and photos to come soon!
Laurent






