So, of course, I had to check it out. I study the maps, the orientation, the sunrise and sunset angles, the golden hour... In short, I prepare my plan with all the seriousness of a photographer hoping to capture THE shot. And to start, I decide to scout the location in the morning.
The viewpoint isn’t far from the hotel or my usual walking spots. I drive up to the parking lot. Fee: $3. No one to collect it. Okay... As a good Frenchman, I look at the little box meant for tickets, then at my wallet. I don’t have any change. So, let’s just say that, that morning, my contribution to Sedona’s tourism development was limited.
I head toward the esplanade. A photographer is already set up and, like me, he’s waiting. The sun rises. It’s nice. It’s said that afterward, generally, it sets.
But photographically speaking, it’s not great.
The light doesn’t really convince me. I simply think we’re not in the right time of year. There must be a season—fall, maybe—when the sun’s orientation, the colors, and the quality of light give this viewpoint a whole new dimension.
No big deal.
I’ll come back the next evening for the famous sunset! And then... A complete change of atmosphere. The parking lots are packed, the surroundings and hills are covered with people. This time, there’s even an attendant to collect my fee. No way around it. So I pay my $3! Then head to the esplanade.
And there, about 200 people are waiting religiously for the big moment. Almost everyone is equipped with cell phones, snapping photos, filming, staging themselves, and Instagramming non-stop.
In the middle of this selfie-hungry crowd, we’re two poor “real” photographers, with our cameras, lenses, and probably way too much gear just to watch the sun disappear behind the horizon. And I wait. The sun goes down. The light changes. Then it sets. There. Again, I’m left a little underwhelmed. It’s obviously not ugly—it’s hard to make Sedona look bad—but for a photographer, I’m convinced there’s a much better time of year, with an orientation and quality of light that could truly set the red rocks ablaze. So, the famous sunset at Sedona Airport, an unmissable spectacle? You decide. Me, I’ve done my tests. And I’ve paid my $3.
























































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




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














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
























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











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