Mi-septembre 1977, je prenais "La route des Indes", traversant en autobus Turquie, Afghanistan, Pakistan, avec Cola qui avait alors 3 ans et demi. Internet, ou l’idée même d’Internet, n’existait pas encore… passé des âges et des moments… Le courrier mettait une dizaine de jours à arriver, écrit sur des aérogrammes. On m'avait conseillé d'éviter les timbres collés sur une enveloppe car, disait-on ("on" ?), les indiens les décollent pour les revendre et… le message n’arrive jamais. Je ne sais ce qu'il en est, j'ai suivi le conseil. La date estampillant les aérogrammes est lisible. Une enveloppe aurait pu se perdre…
La petite va-nu-pieds, I – La route des Indes 1977
by Babeli
This discussion is in French, the community’s main language.
Original post
En fait de route des Indes, ce n’est que l’arrivée… Mes carnets m’ont été subtilisé lors d’un déménagement. Quelques lettres sont la seule trace écrite de mes premiers voyages au long cours. J'avais saisie cette trace sur ordinateur il y a longtemps, dans l’idée d’en faire quelque chose un jour… …un jour… et les jours passent… et le jour arrive…
Mi-septembre 1977, je prenais "La route des Indes", traversant en autobus Turquie, Afghanistan, Pakistan, avec Cola qui avait alors 3 ans et demi. Internet, ou l’idée même d’Internet, n’existait pas encore… passé des âges et des moments… Le courrier mettait une dizaine de jours à arriver, écrit sur des aérogrammes. On m'avait conseillé d'éviter les timbres collés sur une enveloppe car, disait-on ("on" ?), les indiens les décollent pour les revendre et… le message n’arrive jamais. Je ne sais ce qu'il en est, j'ai suivi le conseil. La date estampillant les aérogrammes est lisible. Une enveloppe aurait pu se perdre…
Mi-septembre 1977, je prenais "La route des Indes", traversant en autobus Turquie, Afghanistan, Pakistan, avec Cola qui avait alors 3 ans et demi. Internet, ou l’idée même d’Internet, n’existait pas encore… passé des âges et des moments… Le courrier mettait une dizaine de jours à arriver, écrit sur des aérogrammes. On m'avait conseillé d'éviter les timbres collés sur une enveloppe car, disait-on ("on" ?), les indiens les décollent pour les revendre et… le message n’arrive jamais. Je ne sais ce qu'il en est, j'ai suivi le conseil. La date estampillant les aérogrammes est lisible. Une enveloppe aurait pu se perdre…
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Très cher *, ça y est, devine où je suis ! India.... !!!
Cinq jours que j'ai passé la frontière indienne, et ça a été comme une soudaine bolée d'air : y être enfin ! La Waga border s’étend sur quelques kilomètres de no man’s land que j’ai parcourus à pied. Une longue file de coolie allait vers le Pakistan, tous habillés de bleu indigo, d’énormes ballots posés sur leur tête enturbannée. J’ai croisé une file de regards, des yeux agrandis par un étonnement et une curiosité intenses se rivaient dans les miens : j’ai dû leur paraître étrange… Tu imagines ? Une femme qui entre dans leur pays, son sac à l’épaule, avec un petit joufflu et bouclé, trottinant à ses côtés ? Je n’oublierai jamais leurs regards… Les jasmins croissant à l’entour parfumaient l’air délicieusement… Comme j’aime le parfum du jasmin ! J’avais tant rêvé à ce moment… Il s’est inscrit hors du temps et de tout. Sur mon carnet, j’ai écrit : Enfin, je suis arrivée au pays des vivants ! Je voyage différemment ici. Les Indiens sont dix fois plus cool que les Pakistanais, car il y a beaucoup de femmes et d'enfants dans les rues tout partout, et je ne suis pas mangée par les regards des hommes. Ça c'est chouette ! Dans les trains, je monte dans des wagons réservés aux femmes, on se sourit, comme si on avait conscience quelque part d'être avant tout des femmes, identiques dans le fond, mais d'expressions différentes. Je crois surtout qu'on a en commun d’avoir un enfant sur les genoux. Amritsar était ma première ville. J’ai passé trois jours au temple Sikkh, où j’ai rencontré un français. Il m’a initié à mon premier lassi, - c’est une boisson au yaourt parfumé à l’essence de rose - et à mes premiers mots d’hindi :
bahut atcha ! c’est très bon !
Il est complètement barré, ça fait plus d’un an je crois qu’il traîne ses pieds nus et ravagés sur les routes de l’Inde. C’est drôle comme je me sens chez moi dans ce pays où tout se passe comme au moyen âge. Charrettes, ânes, chèvres, buffles et vaches peuplent la ville avec plus d'aises que les touristes qui viennent se faire photographier devant le Taj !
Je suis arrivée à Agra à 2 heures du matin, j’ai eu peur de la nuit et me suis installée pour dormir à la gare. C’était sale, il y avait des rats qui couraient partout, Cola avait s’est mis à pleurer, insistant pour que nous allions dans un hôtel. À trois heures du mat, j’ai prié un rikshaw de nous emmener à une adresse que j’avais, mais il voulait absolument aller ailleurs, prétextant qu’à « ma » guest house, juste à côté du Taj, il n’y avait pas de gardien de nuit. Finalement, j’ai menti en disant que je devais absolument y retrouver des amis. Le plus fort, c’est qu’il disait vrai, alors il a fallu faire un ramdam pas possible pour réveiller le proprio. Pas content, il me tend un registre : qui sont vos amis ? Je repère deux noms avec écrit en face « French », ça le calme, et il me donne une chambre. Ouf !
Ce matin, alors que Cola prenait son bain dans une bassine sur la terrasse, au soleil et parmi les singes, stratagème pour qu’il accepte de se laver à l’eau froide, qui vois-je arriver ? La Française qu’on avait rencontré sur le bateau au retour du Maroc, tu te souviens ? Trop bien !!! Alors moi aussi je disais vrai !!! Incroyable vérité… Elle et son copain sont sur le chemin du retour, nous avons passé la journée ensemble. Je me suis débarrassée de mes pulls : ils vont bien leur servir, et me voilà allégée. Il fait environ 30°, partout où tu vas il y a de la musique, d'un temple avec des chants de voix profondes et tam-tam, d'un flûtiste dans une chambre voisine, ou des perroquets qui jouent sur les arbres à coté... Et puis des singes sautent de ci de là dans la rue, et nous avons même vu un éléphant, des chameaux majestueux qui traînent une charrette dégingandée et de la poussière partout…
Cola est ravi, c'est quasi-magique. Tout se passe incroyablement bien, il est super résistant. Le fait de venir par la route fait que notre organisme s’est habitué petit à petit aux microbes locaux. On a toujours bu de l'eau du robinet, en Afghanistan et au Pakistan, à Amritsar et ici, on n'a jamais eu aucune chiasse, aucun malaise. Cola a très bon appétit, il faut un peu se casser la tête pour lui trouver à bouffer car tout est épicé. Mais entre le riz, le yaourt délicieux, le lait, les fruits, les amandes, pour l'instant ça va. En ce moment il joue au ballon sur la terrasse, il s'amuse et rigole avec tout le monde, en hindi, en anglais, en espagnol ou n'importe quoi : il sait s'amuser dans toutes les langues. Je prends ce soir le train pour Bénarès, 1200 km de nuit. La vie n'est vraiment pas chère ici. Je dors parfois dans les temples sikhs ou hindous. Ils sont très aimables, et donnent des petites chambres, très propres, gratuitement. (...)
Je t'embrasse et Cola te fait un grand sourire.
La petite va-nu-pieds
bahut atcha ! c’est très bon !
Il est complètement barré, ça fait plus d’un an je crois qu’il traîne ses pieds nus et ravagés sur les routes de l’Inde. C’est drôle comme je me sens chez moi dans ce pays où tout se passe comme au moyen âge. Charrettes, ânes, chèvres, buffles et vaches peuplent la ville avec plus d'aises que les touristes qui viennent se faire photographier devant le Taj !
Je suis arrivée à Agra à 2 heures du matin, j’ai eu peur de la nuit et me suis installée pour dormir à la gare. C’était sale, il y avait des rats qui couraient partout, Cola avait s’est mis à pleurer, insistant pour que nous allions dans un hôtel. À trois heures du mat, j’ai prié un rikshaw de nous emmener à une adresse que j’avais, mais il voulait absolument aller ailleurs, prétextant qu’à « ma » guest house, juste à côté du Taj, il n’y avait pas de gardien de nuit. Finalement, j’ai menti en disant que je devais absolument y retrouver des amis. Le plus fort, c’est qu’il disait vrai, alors il a fallu faire un ramdam pas possible pour réveiller le proprio. Pas content, il me tend un registre : qui sont vos amis ? Je repère deux noms avec écrit en face « French », ça le calme, et il me donne une chambre. Ouf !
Ce matin, alors que Cola prenait son bain dans une bassine sur la terrasse, au soleil et parmi les singes, stratagème pour qu’il accepte de se laver à l’eau froide, qui vois-je arriver ? La Française qu’on avait rencontré sur le bateau au retour du Maroc, tu te souviens ? Trop bien !!! Alors moi aussi je disais vrai !!! Incroyable vérité… Elle et son copain sont sur le chemin du retour, nous avons passé la journée ensemble. Je me suis débarrassée de mes pulls : ils vont bien leur servir, et me voilà allégée. Il fait environ 30°, partout où tu vas il y a de la musique, d'un temple avec des chants de voix profondes et tam-tam, d'un flûtiste dans une chambre voisine, ou des perroquets qui jouent sur les arbres à coté... Et puis des singes sautent de ci de là dans la rue, et nous avons même vu un éléphant, des chameaux majestueux qui traînent une charrette dégingandée et de la poussière partout…
Cola est ravi, c'est quasi-magique. Tout se passe incroyablement bien, il est super résistant. Le fait de venir par la route fait que notre organisme s’est habitué petit à petit aux microbes locaux. On a toujours bu de l'eau du robinet, en Afghanistan et au Pakistan, à Amritsar et ici, on n'a jamais eu aucune chiasse, aucun malaise. Cola a très bon appétit, il faut un peu se casser la tête pour lui trouver à bouffer car tout est épicé. Mais entre le riz, le yaourt délicieux, le lait, les fruits, les amandes, pour l'instant ça va. En ce moment il joue au ballon sur la terrasse, il s'amuse et rigole avec tout le monde, en hindi, en anglais, en espagnol ou n'importe quoi : il sait s'amuser dans toutes les langues. Je prends ce soir le train pour Bénarès, 1200 km de nuit. La vie n'est vraiment pas chère ici. Je dors parfois dans les temples sikhs ou hindous. Ils sont très aimables, et donnent des petites chambres, très propres, gratuitement. (...)
Je t'embrasse et Cola te fait un grand sourire.
La petite va-nu-pieds
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Cher *,
Me revoilà sur ces petits bouts de papiers bleus bordés de rouge que tu dois bien connaître maintenant. (…) Ce matin j'ai été à la gare acheter mon billet pour Puri. Il n'y avait pas de place avant trois jours. Ici il ne faut pas être pressée. Ça m'a pris une heure, entre l'attente, la discussion etc... il y avait des gens qui s'engueulaient, qui se montaient dessus... un vrai spectacle.
Cola tient une forme olympique, quand à moi j’ai le vertige, comme si j’en prenais trop d’un coup, entre les mille questions qu’il me pose, auxquelles je m’applique à répondre le mieux possible, et celles que je me pose en découvrant toute cette vie… Nous avons logés la première semaine sur un bateau amarré à une ghat de Bénarès, et bien que depuis une semaine nous sommes à terre, j’ai toujours le tangage du bateau sous mes pieds. Pourtant, je ne fume presque pas. Je n'achète pratiquement jamais de cigarettes, ou alors une, car ici ils les vendent à la pièce. C'est cool. C'est une ville où tu n'as pas besoin d'être stone pour planer car tout le monde plane. La vie est respectée, le temps de faire chaque chose est pris. Allumer le feu, laver son linge, faire des colliers de fleurs pour les divinités, préparer des offrandes, c'est la vie de tous les jours d'un Indien à Bénarès. C'est une autre dimension que l'Europe. Et pourtant la course à la roupie existe et comment ! Quand tu vois un vieux émacié, buriné, enveloppé dans un torchon sale, suant sur son rickshaw chargé de deux gros brahmanes bien gras, bien ventru, qu’il trimballe sur deux kilomètre, et il se fait payer une roupie ! Ça t'en donne une idée. Ici on travaille pour manger, pas pour s'acheter une deuxième maison ou agrandir sa garde-robe.
Il y a beaucoup d’étrangers, et beaucoup sont accros à l’héroïne : ça donne des résultats horribles, j’ai vu des jambes infectées qui restent sans soin, des comportements agressifs et méprisants envers les Indiens… J'ai hâte d'être dans le Sud, à la mer, dans la baie du Bengale. Il semble qu’à part Goa, où je compte bien ne pas aller tant tout le monde s’y précipite, le Sud est beaucoup moins visité que le Nord. Je termine comme d'habitude…
Water love, sunshine dream, mysterious thinking and smile.
La petite va-nu-pieds
Ps. Ça fait un drôle d'effet de poster ces lettres ici…
Me revoilà sur ces petits bouts de papiers bleus bordés de rouge que tu dois bien connaître maintenant. (…) Ce matin j'ai été à la gare acheter mon billet pour Puri. Il n'y avait pas de place avant trois jours. Ici il ne faut pas être pressée. Ça m'a pris une heure, entre l'attente, la discussion etc... il y avait des gens qui s'engueulaient, qui se montaient dessus... un vrai spectacle.
Cola tient une forme olympique, quand à moi j’ai le vertige, comme si j’en prenais trop d’un coup, entre les mille questions qu’il me pose, auxquelles je m’applique à répondre le mieux possible, et celles que je me pose en découvrant toute cette vie… Nous avons logés la première semaine sur un bateau amarré à une ghat de Bénarès, et bien que depuis une semaine nous sommes à terre, j’ai toujours le tangage du bateau sous mes pieds. Pourtant, je ne fume presque pas. Je n'achète pratiquement jamais de cigarettes, ou alors une, car ici ils les vendent à la pièce. C'est cool. C'est une ville où tu n'as pas besoin d'être stone pour planer car tout le monde plane. La vie est respectée, le temps de faire chaque chose est pris. Allumer le feu, laver son linge, faire des colliers de fleurs pour les divinités, préparer des offrandes, c'est la vie de tous les jours d'un Indien à Bénarès. C'est une autre dimension que l'Europe. Et pourtant la course à la roupie existe et comment ! Quand tu vois un vieux émacié, buriné, enveloppé dans un torchon sale, suant sur son rickshaw chargé de deux gros brahmanes bien gras, bien ventru, qu’il trimballe sur deux kilomètre, et il se fait payer une roupie ! Ça t'en donne une idée. Ici on travaille pour manger, pas pour s'acheter une deuxième maison ou agrandir sa garde-robe.
Il y a beaucoup d’étrangers, et beaucoup sont accros à l’héroïne : ça donne des résultats horribles, j’ai vu des jambes infectées qui restent sans soin, des comportements agressifs et méprisants envers les Indiens… J'ai hâte d'être dans le Sud, à la mer, dans la baie du Bengale. Il semble qu’à part Goa, où je compte bien ne pas aller tant tout le monde s’y précipite, le Sud est beaucoup moins visité que le Nord. Je termine comme d'habitude…
Water love, sunshine dream, mysterious thinking and smile.
La petite va-nu-pieds
Ps. Ça fait un drôle d'effet de poster ces lettres ici…
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Excellente idée, ce carnet datant des années 70.
Grâce à ces lettres écrites sur le vif, on suit avec beaucoup d'intérêt et une certaine émotion ta découverte des Indes mythiques qui faisaient tant rêver la génération "Peace and Love" à travers le monde.
Tu as bien décrit toutes les impressions ressenties lorsque tu es arrivée sur le sol indien, après de longs mois de voyage avec ton bout de chou...
Merci !.. et après ?
Fabricia -
Comme une eau, le monde vous traverse et pour un temps vous prête ses couleurs... ("L'Usage du Monde" - Nicolas Bouvier)
Bonjour Eli !
Merci pour ce partage épistolaire si sensible et plein de vie.🙂 On te voit presque en train de vivre l'aventure qui commence ici par la mobilité...😉 et on en veut encore !
Bises🙂
Merci pour ce partage épistolaire si sensible et plein de vie.🙂 On te voit presque en train de vivre l'aventure qui commence ici par la mobilité...😉 et on en veut encore !
Bises🙂
« Seuls ceux qui risquent sont libres »
merci pour tes impressions qui n'ont pas pris une ride
je suis impatiente de lire la suite...
À c't'heure, 23 h, 100 lectures… 4 commentateurs… hmmm ! j'sais pas si j'vais continuer… lol
Mon premier voyage en Inde était tout le contraire de ce qu'il est devenu maintenant, je voulais tout voir, du Sud au Nord, du Nord au Sud… Cependant j'avais revu mes précisions à la baisse. Je pensais aller jusqu'au Sri Lanka, mais plus j'en voyais, plus je me rendais compte que la quantité ne fait rien à l'affaire… et que tout cela ne faisait pas vraiment sens… En plus, le petit… à force de bouger, on fatiguait tous les deux… Je me suis "stabilisée" une paire de mois dans la région de Mysore… grâce à des bonnes soeurs qui m'avaient trouvé une maison sous les cocotiers… après avoir lavé les pieds de la petite va-nu-pieds… et la fièvre a repris… Kathmandu, les montagnes…
Ah ces Indes mythiques, ces Indes qui vous arrachent le coeur… Elles nous ont tant fait rêver… et c'est pas fini ! Pas pris une ride…
Mon premier voyage en Inde était tout le contraire de ce qu'il est devenu maintenant, je voulais tout voir, du Sud au Nord, du Nord au Sud… Cependant j'avais revu mes précisions à la baisse. Je pensais aller jusqu'au Sri Lanka, mais plus j'en voyais, plus je me rendais compte que la quantité ne fait rien à l'affaire… et que tout cela ne faisait pas vraiment sens… En plus, le petit… à force de bouger, on fatiguait tous les deux… Je me suis "stabilisée" une paire de mois dans la région de Mysore… grâce à des bonnes soeurs qui m'avaient trouvé une maison sous les cocotiers… après avoir lavé les pieds de la petite va-nu-pieds… et la fièvre a repris… Kathmandu, les montagnes…
Ah ces Indes mythiques, ces Indes qui vous arrachent le coeur… Elles nous ont tant fait rêver… et c'est pas fini ! Pas pris une ride…
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
À c't'heure, 23 h, 100 lectures… 4 commentateurs… hmmm ! j'sais pas si j'vais continuer… lol
Non, non !!!! T'arrete pas ¨ La suite, la suite 🙂
Pas le temps de commenter..j'suis sensée bosser dur, là..au lieu de me perdre encore pour le plaisir...mais je reviens jeudi soir 😛
C'est génial...et quel courage la petite va-nus-pieds....ça donne envie de la conforter..de lui dire que sa folie était bien sage... Je ne sais pas si j'en serais capable, dans les mêmes conditions.. ???
Non, non !!!! T'arrete pas ¨ La suite, la suite 🙂
Pas le temps de commenter..j'suis sensée bosser dur, là..au lieu de me perdre encore pour le plaisir...mais je reviens jeudi soir 😛
C'est génial...et quel courage la petite va-nus-pieds....ça donne envie de la conforter..de lui dire que sa folie était bien sage... Je ne sais pas si j'en serais capable, dans les mêmes conditions.. ???
"Les choses nous rendent regard pour regard. Elles nous paraissent indifférentes parce que nous les regardons d'un air indifférent. Mais pour un oeil clair, tout est miroir." - Bachelard
Sita Ram,
Geniale idée Eli, que de nous faire profiter de ces lettres de la "belle époque" ! D'autant plus d'intéret et d'émotion à lire tout ça, alors que je viens de partager un tout petit bout de ta vie là bas avec Indou, Deonath, Mamie, Bapu, Bhola, Babaji.... ta famille de Ramnagar... Démonstration que pour toi l'Inde et une longue et belle histoire d'Amour...
Heureusement, malgré les années, la magie est toujours là et ce pays peut encore fasciner, même apres une rencontre tardive... même si ce devait etre tout autre chose dans ces années 70....
On attend la suite.... Chalo !
Geniale idée Eli, que de nous faire profiter de ces lettres de la "belle époque" ! D'autant plus d'intéret et d'émotion à lire tout ça, alors que je viens de partager un tout petit bout de ta vie là bas avec Indou, Deonath, Mamie, Bapu, Bhola, Babaji.... ta famille de Ramnagar... Démonstration que pour toi l'Inde et une longue et belle histoire d'Amour...
Heureusement, malgré les années, la magie est toujours là et ce pays peut encore fasciner, même apres une rencontre tardive... même si ce devait etre tout autre chose dans ces années 70....
On attend la suite.... Chalo !
Phil
Voyages du bout de mon pinceau...
Merci Babelli pour ces lettres...je viens d'imaginer un voyage sans internet...ca doit le faire pour se sentir plus deconnecté, et écrire sur du papier, passer par un facteur, une lettre qu'on garde ne serais ce que pour le timbre...alors que les mails on les efface pour avoir de la place
génial
t'étais parti combien de temps ? cola avait quel age ? c'est fou comme les enfants du voyage sont évéllés je me souviens des gamins d'ici qui a 7 ans ne se repere pas ou est l'inde, et d'olga trois ans voyage avec ces parents : "bonjour, j'ai envie d'aller au népal" en Iran elles saluaient gens en en perses mieux que moi...
babeli si t'as d'autres lettres fait péter : je voyage dans l'espace et dans les années 77...ce sont des lectures comme celle ci vers 13/14 ans qui m'ont donner envie de voyager et plus....
plus de 20 ans déjà et en inde on plane toujours sans rien avoir a prendre, ca n'a pas changer on dirait.
merci babeli.
babeli si t'as d'autres lettres fait péter : je voyage dans l'espace et dans les années 77...ce sont des lectures comme celle ci vers 13/14 ans qui m'ont donner envie de voyager et plus....
plus de 20 ans déjà et en inde on plane toujours sans rien avoir a prendre, ca n'a pas changer on dirait.
merci babeli.
"La liberté de la graine réside dans l'accomplissement de sa nature qui est de devenir un arbre"
Rabindranath Tagora
Namaskar Eli,
Le meme sentiment que les autres ! Tes lettres, on a l'impression que tu les as poste hier, tellement l'Inde de 1977 ressemble a celle d'aujourd'hui. Deja les touristes a Goa ! Mais surtout : encore aujourd'hui, 20 ans apres, les galeres des gens pour survivre avec quelques roupies par jour.
Deja merci, et on attend la suite !
Le meme sentiment que les autres ! Tes lettres, on a l'impression que tu les as poste hier, tellement l'Inde de 1977 ressemble a celle d'aujourd'hui. Deja les touristes a Goa ! Mais surtout : encore aujourd'hui, 20 ans apres, les galeres des gens pour survivre avec quelques roupies par jour.
Deja merci, et on attend la suite !
"Lorsque quelqu’un te blesse, tu devrais l’écrire sur le sable afin que le vent l’efface de ta mémoire mais lorsque quelqu’un fait quelque chose de bon pour toi, tu dois l’écrire sur la pierre afin que le vent ne l’efface jamais."
Proverbe Touareg
Vous m'encouragez grave là… Merci de vos lectures, je suis ravie des commentaires : cette intemporalité de l'Inde est ce qui m'a le plus motivé pour approfondir ma connaissance de ce pays. J'y suis retournée en 97, pile 20 ans après, et rien ou presque n'avait changé ! Ça a été un vrai choc, je n'en revenais pas ! Mis en perspective avec ce que j'avais vécu en France, l'ancrage dans la tradition m'est apparu, j'avoue, comme un miracle ! Comment ce pays peut-il ainsi résister à l'uniformisation des modes de vie et des valeurs ? INCROYABLE ! En bonne chercheuse que je suis, hi hi, je suis allée voir les pays autour : peut-être après tout qu'il en allait de même ? Partout, sauf dans de petits coins où vivent des tribus, j'ai constaté l'idéologie galopante, un galop fou vers les valeurs de la société moderne. Le plus grand choc, ça a été la Chine… Et c'est ainsi qu'après avoir tourné deux ans de droite et de gauche, je savais : l'Inde est un cas exceptionnel. Bien sûr, il y a Bangalore, et la place que commence à prendre l'Inde sur la scène économique internationale. Cela ne change pas mon point de vue… En vivant à Bénarès, j'ai vu des ingénieurs venir se tremper dans le Fleuve sacré. Ceux qui n'y trempaient que le petit doigt étaient quand même venus jusque là…
On continue vers le Sud ?
Bénarès 21 novembre 77
Bonsoir bonsoir,
Cola dort comme un loir… Hier je lui ai fait couper les cheveux, il a été très sage. Aujourd’hui, beau comme un pape et tout propre, je l’ai emmené manger au restaurant chinois : un poulet shopsuy. Il était drôlement content… J’y ai rencontré deux français qui arrivaient de Goa. Ils ne parlaient que de défonce ! On a fini par discuter un peu, Orient-Occident, Inde, bouleversements… Ça change que d’être tout le temps face à soi-même. On est monté sur la terrasse de leur hôtel, et on a fumé un super chilom… On était baba devant le spectacle, sans parler, juste à regarder… Bénarès vu d’en haut, les toits des temples au fond, entourés d’arbres immenses, les terrasses où jouent des enfants, les indiennes dans la rue en bas, si belles, le presseur de canne à sucre qui met son moteur en marche pour faire tourner la roue, des gamines en sari elles aussi, si jolies… De temps en temps une jeep se fraye un passage parmi les rickshaw, à grands coups de Klaxonne : une fois à gauche, une fois à droite… Ça doit pas être facile de conduire ici. On a bien plané… J’ai eu un sentiment très étrange sur ce toit : se retrouver sans personne qui me connaît, c’est perdre tous mes repères… Les regards de ceux qui nous connaissent nous aident à savoir qui on est, ils nous font en quelque sorte… Quand personne ne sais qui tu es, qui es-tu ? Difficile d’expliquer… Sentiment d’une grande liberté, de pouvoir laisser être ce qui est sans se soucier de rien…
Cola et moi sommes rentrés à pied à l’hôtel, 2km à travers la cohue habituelle, deux pas par minutes… Demain on reprend la route. Les adieux seront difficiles. Bénarés ! Je ne t’oublierai pas…
Ça m’a pris 2 heures pour envoyer ton colis : il a fallu acheter du tissu, coudre la caisse dedans, trouver les timbres… Ça n’a l’air de rien comme ça, mais quand tu y es tu fais un max pour garder ton sang-froid ! Tu feras attention en déballant : j’ai mis les carreaux de céramique dans une écharpe violette.
Maintenant je vais me coucher à côté du petit faune, je reprendrai ça plus tard… peut-être dans le train.
22/11
Hé oui, dans ce train immobilisé depuis bientôt une heure : il y a un accident sur la voie. Remarque, j’ai pas à me plaindre, j’ai pu dormir toute la nuit sur une couchette malgré mon billet de 3ème classe. Je suis partie à 5h de l’après-midi de Bénarès, à 8h du mat on a pas encore atteint Calcutta, et je continue jusqu’à Puri…
J’ai rencontré un français d’une cinquantaine d’années hier à la gare, il rentre en France dans une semaine, il en a plein les bottes des Indiens… Faut dire, c’est une bagarre perpétuelle, ils essayent toujours de tirer profit de toi, te faire payer plus cher… On a l’impression d’être un imbécile, c'est désagréable. Cola déteste quand je m’énerve avec eux…
24/11, Sur la plage à Puri, à côté d’un village de pêcheur, un millier qui viennent de Madras pour six mois avec leur petit bateau. On va pouvoir manger du poisson !
Plus tard : Effectivement, c’est cool ! Ça change, et c’est bon. La plage est vraiment magnifique. Ce soir il y avait un très chouette coucher de soleil, avec des nuages genre cumulus, du orange, du bleu-vert, et de l’autre côté, une lune toute ronde sur un ciel bleu nuit. Puri, c’est tout petit, vert, des cocotiers et des bananiers partout, très tranquille. On s’est baladé tout l’après-midi avec Cola. Ne m’écris pas à Madras, je ne sais pas encore où je vais, je te donnerai une adresse dans une prochaine lettre.
Gros bisous de tous les deux
La petite va-nu-pied
On continue vers le Sud ?
Bénarès 21 novembre 77
Bonsoir bonsoir,
Cola dort comme un loir… Hier je lui ai fait couper les cheveux, il a été très sage. Aujourd’hui, beau comme un pape et tout propre, je l’ai emmené manger au restaurant chinois : un poulet shopsuy. Il était drôlement content… J’y ai rencontré deux français qui arrivaient de Goa. Ils ne parlaient que de défonce ! On a fini par discuter un peu, Orient-Occident, Inde, bouleversements… Ça change que d’être tout le temps face à soi-même. On est monté sur la terrasse de leur hôtel, et on a fumé un super chilom… On était baba devant le spectacle, sans parler, juste à regarder… Bénarès vu d’en haut, les toits des temples au fond, entourés d’arbres immenses, les terrasses où jouent des enfants, les indiennes dans la rue en bas, si belles, le presseur de canne à sucre qui met son moteur en marche pour faire tourner la roue, des gamines en sari elles aussi, si jolies… De temps en temps une jeep se fraye un passage parmi les rickshaw, à grands coups de Klaxonne : une fois à gauche, une fois à droite… Ça doit pas être facile de conduire ici. On a bien plané… J’ai eu un sentiment très étrange sur ce toit : se retrouver sans personne qui me connaît, c’est perdre tous mes repères… Les regards de ceux qui nous connaissent nous aident à savoir qui on est, ils nous font en quelque sorte… Quand personne ne sais qui tu es, qui es-tu ? Difficile d’expliquer… Sentiment d’une grande liberté, de pouvoir laisser être ce qui est sans se soucier de rien…
Cola et moi sommes rentrés à pied à l’hôtel, 2km à travers la cohue habituelle, deux pas par minutes… Demain on reprend la route. Les adieux seront difficiles. Bénarés ! Je ne t’oublierai pas…
Ça m’a pris 2 heures pour envoyer ton colis : il a fallu acheter du tissu, coudre la caisse dedans, trouver les timbres… Ça n’a l’air de rien comme ça, mais quand tu y es tu fais un max pour garder ton sang-froid ! Tu feras attention en déballant : j’ai mis les carreaux de céramique dans une écharpe violette.
Maintenant je vais me coucher à côté du petit faune, je reprendrai ça plus tard… peut-être dans le train.
22/11
Hé oui, dans ce train immobilisé depuis bientôt une heure : il y a un accident sur la voie. Remarque, j’ai pas à me plaindre, j’ai pu dormir toute la nuit sur une couchette malgré mon billet de 3ème classe. Je suis partie à 5h de l’après-midi de Bénarès, à 8h du mat on a pas encore atteint Calcutta, et je continue jusqu’à Puri…
J’ai rencontré un français d’une cinquantaine d’années hier à la gare, il rentre en France dans une semaine, il en a plein les bottes des Indiens… Faut dire, c’est une bagarre perpétuelle, ils essayent toujours de tirer profit de toi, te faire payer plus cher… On a l’impression d’être un imbécile, c'est désagréable. Cola déteste quand je m’énerve avec eux…
24/11, Sur la plage à Puri, à côté d’un village de pêcheur, un millier qui viennent de Madras pour six mois avec leur petit bateau. On va pouvoir manger du poisson !
Plus tard : Effectivement, c’est cool ! Ça change, et c’est bon. La plage est vraiment magnifique. Ce soir il y avait un très chouette coucher de soleil, avec des nuages genre cumulus, du orange, du bleu-vert, et de l’autre côté, une lune toute ronde sur un ciel bleu nuit. Puri, c’est tout petit, vert, des cocotiers et des bananiers partout, très tranquille. On s’est baladé tout l’après-midi avec Cola. Ne m’écris pas à Madras, je ne sais pas encore où je vais, je te donnerai une adresse dans une prochaine lettre.
Gros bisous de tous les deux
La petite va-nu-pied
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Mi-décembre. Il manque la première partie… Je me souviens… J’avais espéré trouver un coin pour me poser à Puri, on commençait à fatiguer sérieusement, nerveusement parlant… N’ayant pas trouvé, j’avais continué un voyage au hasard, le nom de “Mangalore” m’avait plus sur le panneau des départs, à cause de l’or… Je me suis retrouvée dans une ville industrielle ! Nous avions pris un bus en direction de la mer. Le coin supérieur est déchiré, il manque les premiers mots des premiéres lignes.
… pouvoir pleurer à l’aise, tout en expliquant à Cola … partir et que le Monsieur ne voulait pas nous en louer … n’avait pas l’air de le déranger beaucoup à … donné la main et on est repartis, et tout en marchant je pleurais et je lui disais “Y en à marre Cola, qu’est-ce qu’on va faire ? On peut pas continuer à voyager tout le temps, je ne veux pas reprendre le train, et encore arriver dans une ville, assaillie par les rickshaw, chercher un hôtel, notre argent s’en va trop vite, comme ça jusqu’à quand… Enfin, j’ai piqué ma crise. Après ça allait un peu mieux, mais le problème n’était pas résolu. Où aller ? Je marchais tristement vers l’arrêt de bus dans l’intention de retourner en ville, pensant sérieusement à l’éventualité de rentrer en France. Sur le chemin, il y avait, un couvent et tout autour, dans la forêt, plein de petites et grandes maisons qui n’avaient pas l’air habitées du tout. Pourquoi ne pas essayer ? Je suis rentrée, m’attendant à me faire foutre dehors, avec mon air de routarde et mes pieds nus, personne… J’ai traversé la forêt jusqu’à la mer, personne… N’ayant aucune idée de l’heure, j’ai pensé que ce pouvait être celle de la sieste. J’ai posé mon sac, on s’est promené. Il y avait plein de bébés noix de coco par terre, des coquillages, des petits cailloux… Il faisait bon à l’ombre. Et voilà qu’une gamine marche à notre rencontre, toute mignonne avec ses deux nattes, sa jupe plissée et sa chemise blanche. Vraiment du genre “bonne éducation”, aussi elle parlait anglais. Elle m’a emmené voir les soeurs… Lorsque je leur ai parlé de mon voyage, elles m’ont pris dans leurs bras, m’ont fait asseoir sur une chaise, ont amené une bassine d’eau, m’ont lavé les pieds avec tant de douceur, tant d’amour… Je ne savais plus où me mettre, j’étais émue : jamais on ne m’a lavé les pieds de cette façon, j’avais l’impression d’être une sainte… Pendant ce temps, l’une d’entre elles est partie essayer de me trouver quelque chose où je puisse habiter quelque temps.
Plus tard…
J’ai une petite maison, aucun meuble, je cuisine au feu de bois. La mer est à cinq minutes, le coin est magnifique !
Veena ma voisine est très gentille, elle a un fille de l’âge de Cola, et ils passent leurs journées à jouer ensemble dans le sable devant la maison. Hier j’avais fait de la compote de pommes lorsque Veena est entrée. Je lui en ai proposé, rien à faire… Comme j’insistai, elle m’a laissée lui en mettre un dixième de larme sur la paume de sa main, a passé un coup de langue vif dessus… Il m’a semblé comprendre qu’elle ne peut accepter que de la nourriture crue… Je ne sais pas pourquoi. Peut-être parce que je suis une étrangère. Une jeune fille très fraîche vient de temps en temps, je lui apprends l’anglais, elle m’apprend sa langue : “limbiapouli”, ça veut dire oignon, c’est joli…
Il y a une usine de traitement des crevettes non loin, je vais parfois m’asseoir dans la petite tchai shop à côté, échanger avec les travailleurs. Ils sont étonnés qu’une étrangère leur adresse la parole ! Les seuls qu’ils “connaissent” sont les grosses têtes de l’entreprise, et jamais ils ne s’assoient avec les locaux. J’ai rencontré la femme de l’un d’eux, elle m’invite à déjeuner parfois. Elle a une trouille bleue de sortir toute seule, elle vit dans un compound où il n’y a que des étrangers… Elle n’imagine même pas prendre un rickshaw toute seule, pour elle je suis une extra-terrestre.
Personne ne pense à s’assumer, et chacun pense aux grands problèmes de l’humanité : le comble de l’archi-absurde. Les Indiens savent se servir de la nature sans la détruire. Que pouvons-nous leur apporter d’autre que ce que nous avons produit, une lente mort collective, des êtres asphyxiés par des machines, abrutis par la course aux dollars et qui transforment des liens fraternels en rivalité imbécile pour avoir plus de ce qu’ils n’ont pas besoin… L’esprit jamais ne s’arrête d’élucubrer des plans de développement, mais à quoi sert de développer du vide ? La matière est pleine de vide…
Tu peux m’écrire à Ullal, je pense y rester au moins deux mois.
Grand Soleil à tous. vous devez en avoir besoin…
La petite va-nu-pieds.
… pouvoir pleurer à l’aise, tout en expliquant à Cola … partir et que le Monsieur ne voulait pas nous en louer … n’avait pas l’air de le déranger beaucoup à … donné la main et on est repartis, et tout en marchant je pleurais et je lui disais “Y en à marre Cola, qu’est-ce qu’on va faire ? On peut pas continuer à voyager tout le temps, je ne veux pas reprendre le train, et encore arriver dans une ville, assaillie par les rickshaw, chercher un hôtel, notre argent s’en va trop vite, comme ça jusqu’à quand… Enfin, j’ai piqué ma crise. Après ça allait un peu mieux, mais le problème n’était pas résolu. Où aller ? Je marchais tristement vers l’arrêt de bus dans l’intention de retourner en ville, pensant sérieusement à l’éventualité de rentrer en France. Sur le chemin, il y avait, un couvent et tout autour, dans la forêt, plein de petites et grandes maisons qui n’avaient pas l’air habitées du tout. Pourquoi ne pas essayer ? Je suis rentrée, m’attendant à me faire foutre dehors, avec mon air de routarde et mes pieds nus, personne… J’ai traversé la forêt jusqu’à la mer, personne… N’ayant aucune idée de l’heure, j’ai pensé que ce pouvait être celle de la sieste. J’ai posé mon sac, on s’est promené. Il y avait plein de bébés noix de coco par terre, des coquillages, des petits cailloux… Il faisait bon à l’ombre. Et voilà qu’une gamine marche à notre rencontre, toute mignonne avec ses deux nattes, sa jupe plissée et sa chemise blanche. Vraiment du genre “bonne éducation”, aussi elle parlait anglais. Elle m’a emmené voir les soeurs… Lorsque je leur ai parlé de mon voyage, elles m’ont pris dans leurs bras, m’ont fait asseoir sur une chaise, ont amené une bassine d’eau, m’ont lavé les pieds avec tant de douceur, tant d’amour… Je ne savais plus où me mettre, j’étais émue : jamais on ne m’a lavé les pieds de cette façon, j’avais l’impression d’être une sainte… Pendant ce temps, l’une d’entre elles est partie essayer de me trouver quelque chose où je puisse habiter quelque temps.
Plus tard…
J’ai une petite maison, aucun meuble, je cuisine au feu de bois. La mer est à cinq minutes, le coin est magnifique !
Veena ma voisine est très gentille, elle a un fille de l’âge de Cola, et ils passent leurs journées à jouer ensemble dans le sable devant la maison. Hier j’avais fait de la compote de pommes lorsque Veena est entrée. Je lui en ai proposé, rien à faire… Comme j’insistai, elle m’a laissée lui en mettre un dixième de larme sur la paume de sa main, a passé un coup de langue vif dessus… Il m’a semblé comprendre qu’elle ne peut accepter que de la nourriture crue… Je ne sais pas pourquoi. Peut-être parce que je suis une étrangère. Une jeune fille très fraîche vient de temps en temps, je lui apprends l’anglais, elle m’apprend sa langue : “limbiapouli”, ça veut dire oignon, c’est joli…
Il y a une usine de traitement des crevettes non loin, je vais parfois m’asseoir dans la petite tchai shop à côté, échanger avec les travailleurs. Ils sont étonnés qu’une étrangère leur adresse la parole ! Les seuls qu’ils “connaissent” sont les grosses têtes de l’entreprise, et jamais ils ne s’assoient avec les locaux. J’ai rencontré la femme de l’un d’eux, elle m’invite à déjeuner parfois. Elle a une trouille bleue de sortir toute seule, elle vit dans un compound où il n’y a que des étrangers… Elle n’imagine même pas prendre un rickshaw toute seule, pour elle je suis une extra-terrestre.
Personne ne pense à s’assumer, et chacun pense aux grands problèmes de l’humanité : le comble de l’archi-absurde. Les Indiens savent se servir de la nature sans la détruire. Que pouvons-nous leur apporter d’autre que ce que nous avons produit, une lente mort collective, des êtres asphyxiés par des machines, abrutis par la course aux dollars et qui transforment des liens fraternels en rivalité imbécile pour avoir plus de ce qu’ils n’ont pas besoin… L’esprit jamais ne s’arrête d’élucubrer des plans de développement, mais à quoi sert de développer du vide ? La matière est pleine de vide…
Tu peux m’écrire à Ullal, je pense y rester au moins deux mois.
Grand Soleil à tous. vous devez en avoir besoin…
La petite va-nu-pieds.
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Mi-février 1978
Salut,
Des français en passe de rentrer au pays, j’en profite pour te faire parvenir ce mot, petit. Trés beau, Jaïpur, c’est une féérie : palais avec murs peints de miniatures persanes, les salles succédant aux terrasses à piliers sculptés, splendeur des anciens habits des Maharadjah et Maharanis, et la ville, la Pink city.
Le petit bonhomme se porte à merveille, plus de diarrhées depuis une semaine. Il pleut aujourd’hui, ce qui a un effet fulgurant : il court de partout en criant de joie, essuie la pluie sur les par brises des voitures et lance l’eau tout autour… Nous n’avions pas vu de pluie depuis… notre départ de France.
Le Gujarat, c’était planant, en plein festival, ça a duré cinq jours. L’ambiance m’a rappelé Bénarès. Tandis que je lavais mon linge dans la rivière, un gamin est venu me chercher, montrant un sadhu en train de méditer sur la rive : “il vous appelle”. Ah ? J’y vais. Il me demande mon nom, je le lui dis. Quel joli nom s’exclame-t-il ! Et la manière dont il m’a regardée, j’ai compris qu’il valait mieux que j’aille voir ailleurs…
Je vais passer à Vrindavan avant de remonter à Delhi et aller dans les montagnes, j’en soupire d’aise.
De grosses bises à tous La petite va-nu-pieds.
Salut,
Des français en passe de rentrer au pays, j’en profite pour te faire parvenir ce mot, petit. Trés beau, Jaïpur, c’est une féérie : palais avec murs peints de miniatures persanes, les salles succédant aux terrasses à piliers sculptés, splendeur des anciens habits des Maharadjah et Maharanis, et la ville, la Pink city.
Le petit bonhomme se porte à merveille, plus de diarrhées depuis une semaine. Il pleut aujourd’hui, ce qui a un effet fulgurant : il court de partout en criant de joie, essuie la pluie sur les par brises des voitures et lance l’eau tout autour… Nous n’avions pas vu de pluie depuis… notre départ de France.
Le Gujarat, c’était planant, en plein festival, ça a duré cinq jours. L’ambiance m’a rappelé Bénarès. Tandis que je lavais mon linge dans la rivière, un gamin est venu me chercher, montrant un sadhu en train de méditer sur la rive : “il vous appelle”. Ah ? J’y vais. Il me demande mon nom, je le lui dis. Quel joli nom s’exclame-t-il ! Et la manière dont il m’a regardée, j’ai compris qu’il valait mieux que j’aille voir ailleurs…
Je vais passer à Vrindavan avant de remonter à Delhi et aller dans les montagnes, j’en soupire d’aise.
De grosses bises à tous La petite va-nu-pieds.
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Mi-avril 1978
Ils sont bien beaux ces aérogrammes népalais, n’est-ce pas ? Cette filigrane grisée, beaucoup plus classe que les Indiens. L’aventure continue, Kathmandu c’est très spécial ! On s’éclate trop chaque jour. Tous les matins, on se lève pressés d’aller dans la rue, royaume de fées, de songe, de rencontres… Une atmosphère que je n’ai vue nulle part ailleurs. Des tankas partout, des flûtes, des soies chinoises, milles objets précieux, des buddha… Des temples de bois où tu peux t’asseoir sur les marches et regarder les gens : les touristes, armés de la panoplie photo habituelle, les Népalais et Népalaises, les freaks locaux et les freaks du reste du monde. Il y a des pie shops où déguster des gâteaux au chocolat, des magasins qui vendent du pain complet, du beurre, du fromage… On en avait même oublié le goût !
Que j’oublie pas avant tout de te remercier du médicament de Cola, il le trouve délicieux, avec une petite casserole et tout et tout… Le mien m’a valu quelques jours au lit avec une infection, juste avant la frontière Népalaise, Raxaul, petit village sans pavé dans les rues et qui sent déjà la montagne. Je ne m’appesantirai pas sur les médecins indiens, systématiquement prescripteur d’anti-tout ce que tu veux, depuis les biotiques jusqu’aux staminiques et algésiques et… enfin, ça va mieux mais je suis complètement à plat. Pour récupérer le colis à Delhi, ça m’a pris de 9h du mat à midi et demi ! Des formalités à n’en plus finir… Les cartouches de gaz me rendent bien service, je fais bouillir de l’eau tous les matins. Dans les restos, ils servent de l’eau filtrée bouillie. Cola n’a plus du tout de diarrhées. Pourvu que ça dure et que ça aille bien pour le retour.
Je suis allée à l’Am.ex. ce matin, impossible d’envoyer de l’argent à Kathmandu. Il me reste 250 $, je vais essayer d’acheter quelques trucs et rentrer avec ce qui reste, par la route. Je dois au moins pouvoir arriver jusqu’à Istambul ou Athénes. Si besoin est, je te cablerai pour les quelques deniers manquant. Je pense aller à Grenoble, j’espère que le soleil y sera aussi pour cette reconnaissance d’une ville où j’ai vécu longtemps et beaucoup. Home, sweet home, very far in the night…
Que te dire ? Délirer ou pas ? Le monde est un délire… Arc-en-ciel, sourire du ciel, petit point perdu sur une terre immense, visages de gens qui ont le temps, enfant qui sourit, enfant, partie de la grande fête du Monde. J’ai envie de me laisser empaqueter comme un colis, ou encore glisser sur l’eau, un long fleuve qui irait jusqu’à chez moi.
Je prends la route de Delhi d’ici quelques jours, ne m’envoie rien. Voilà, disparaître encore une fois…
Ciao La petite va-nu-pieds.
Ils sont bien beaux ces aérogrammes népalais, n’est-ce pas ? Cette filigrane grisée, beaucoup plus classe que les Indiens. L’aventure continue, Kathmandu c’est très spécial ! On s’éclate trop chaque jour. Tous les matins, on se lève pressés d’aller dans la rue, royaume de fées, de songe, de rencontres… Une atmosphère que je n’ai vue nulle part ailleurs. Des tankas partout, des flûtes, des soies chinoises, milles objets précieux, des buddha… Des temples de bois où tu peux t’asseoir sur les marches et regarder les gens : les touristes, armés de la panoplie photo habituelle, les Népalais et Népalaises, les freaks locaux et les freaks du reste du monde. Il y a des pie shops où déguster des gâteaux au chocolat, des magasins qui vendent du pain complet, du beurre, du fromage… On en avait même oublié le goût !
Que j’oublie pas avant tout de te remercier du médicament de Cola, il le trouve délicieux, avec une petite casserole et tout et tout… Le mien m’a valu quelques jours au lit avec une infection, juste avant la frontière Népalaise, Raxaul, petit village sans pavé dans les rues et qui sent déjà la montagne. Je ne m’appesantirai pas sur les médecins indiens, systématiquement prescripteur d’anti-tout ce que tu veux, depuis les biotiques jusqu’aux staminiques et algésiques et… enfin, ça va mieux mais je suis complètement à plat. Pour récupérer le colis à Delhi, ça m’a pris de 9h du mat à midi et demi ! Des formalités à n’en plus finir… Les cartouches de gaz me rendent bien service, je fais bouillir de l’eau tous les matins. Dans les restos, ils servent de l’eau filtrée bouillie. Cola n’a plus du tout de diarrhées. Pourvu que ça dure et que ça aille bien pour le retour.
Je suis allée à l’Am.ex. ce matin, impossible d’envoyer de l’argent à Kathmandu. Il me reste 250 $, je vais essayer d’acheter quelques trucs et rentrer avec ce qui reste, par la route. Je dois au moins pouvoir arriver jusqu’à Istambul ou Athénes. Si besoin est, je te cablerai pour les quelques deniers manquant. Je pense aller à Grenoble, j’espère que le soleil y sera aussi pour cette reconnaissance d’une ville où j’ai vécu longtemps et beaucoup. Home, sweet home, very far in the night…
Que te dire ? Délirer ou pas ? Le monde est un délire… Arc-en-ciel, sourire du ciel, petit point perdu sur une terre immense, visages de gens qui ont le temps, enfant qui sourit, enfant, partie de la grande fête du Monde. J’ai envie de me laisser empaqueter comme un colis, ou encore glisser sur l’eau, un long fleuve qui irait jusqu’à chez moi.
Je prends la route de Delhi d’ici quelques jours, ne m’envoie rien. Voilà, disparaître encore une fois…
Ciao La petite va-nu-pieds.
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
6 mai 78 –
Très cher,
Elle aura mis du temps à se décider cette dernière de India… Ça y est, la frontière Afghane a réouvert, dans deux jours nous y partons à travers le Pakistan, à bord d’un mini-bus Leyland, 10 people allant vers la capitale, Paris. It’s a long way going home… Si l'Afghanistan était resté fermé, il nous aurait fallu descendre sur Quetta, et alors là, bonjour la chaleur !
Little Kid Cola is happy, il joue avec deux petits Italiens dans le camping où notre chauffeur est en train de remonter son moteur, qui avait trop chauffé sur la route Kathmandu-Delhi. Voilà une semaine qu’on attend dans la chaleur, 40°. Heureusement, le camping est ombragé, avec des pelouses, des douches, un bar où little Cola va se ravitailler en coca, de temps en temps, avec une roupie fifty paisa. C’est la saison des mangues, trois roupies le kilo, elles sont délicieuses…
Bientôt tu reverras la petite Va-nu-pieds, plus petite que jamais, avec son grand copain Cola, compagnon de voyage au poil maintenant ! On aura envie de rire pour secouer la tristesse des yeux tristes, envie de revoir le monde avec un autre œil, ou plutôt une tête différente. Il y aura de l’action, pour ma part tout au moins. Je me sens fatiguée physiquement, mais une énergie de feu, avec l’image d’un sadhu qui est entrée dans mes yeux un jour sur une ghat de Bénarès, et celle d’un grand zébu blanc, attelé, qui attend son maître. Il boît son thé, tous les jours à la même place, un regard pas possible… La conscience d’un lieu, la façon dont les gens se move là-dedans… Des sujets d’occupation pour mes prochains mois en France. L’heure du retour… Heureusement, j’ai un mois pour le voir venir, le temps de le vivre… J’ai acheté deux disques de flûtes, sitar et tablas, pour l’adoucir…
Meilleures pensées à toi
La petite va-nu-pieds.
PS. Ecris-moi à la GPO d’Istambul.
Très cher,
Elle aura mis du temps à se décider cette dernière de India… Ça y est, la frontière Afghane a réouvert, dans deux jours nous y partons à travers le Pakistan, à bord d’un mini-bus Leyland, 10 people allant vers la capitale, Paris. It’s a long way going home… Si l'Afghanistan était resté fermé, il nous aurait fallu descendre sur Quetta, et alors là, bonjour la chaleur !
Little Kid Cola is happy, il joue avec deux petits Italiens dans le camping où notre chauffeur est en train de remonter son moteur, qui avait trop chauffé sur la route Kathmandu-Delhi. Voilà une semaine qu’on attend dans la chaleur, 40°. Heureusement, le camping est ombragé, avec des pelouses, des douches, un bar où little Cola va se ravitailler en coca, de temps en temps, avec une roupie fifty paisa. C’est la saison des mangues, trois roupies le kilo, elles sont délicieuses…
Bientôt tu reverras la petite Va-nu-pieds, plus petite que jamais, avec son grand copain Cola, compagnon de voyage au poil maintenant ! On aura envie de rire pour secouer la tristesse des yeux tristes, envie de revoir le monde avec un autre œil, ou plutôt une tête différente. Il y aura de l’action, pour ma part tout au moins. Je me sens fatiguée physiquement, mais une énergie de feu, avec l’image d’un sadhu qui est entrée dans mes yeux un jour sur une ghat de Bénarès, et celle d’un grand zébu blanc, attelé, qui attend son maître. Il boît son thé, tous les jours à la même place, un regard pas possible… La conscience d’un lieu, la façon dont les gens se move là-dedans… Des sujets d’occupation pour mes prochains mois en France. L’heure du retour… Heureusement, j’ai un mois pour le voir venir, le temps de le vivre… J’ai acheté deux disques de flûtes, sitar et tablas, pour l’adoucir…
Meilleures pensées à toi
La petite va-nu-pieds.
PS. Ecris-moi à la GPO d’Istambul.
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
16 mai 1978
Salaam aleikum
Me revoilà dans les contrées musulmanes, je refais la route dans l’autre sens à quelques mois d’intervalle, et je repasse dans les mêmes endroits : Kabul, la Flower house… Maalik et sa grande cape brodée d’étoiles de toutes les couleurs, qu’il jette sur ses épaules en un geste de mage… Tous se disputent pour que les rares étrangers séjournent chez eux, ils offrent de fumer gratuitement… En ville, des tanks renversés, et personne pour s’inquiéter : ils n’ont pas l’air de réaliser ce que signifie l’entrée des Russes dans leur pays, cela ne les inquiéte pas. Je n’ai pas beaucoup d’info, ne sait que penser… mais j’ai bien peur pour mes amis afghans. Ce sont des gens sans malice, extrêmement amicaux, curieux de tout… Ils aiment à discuter avec les étrangers, ils aiment brasser des idées… Ils ne savent pas la méchanceté.
Bientôt l’Iran, les mulets, deux jours à la Caspienne, dix personnes qui font route vers la France dans un Leyland tout blanc… Cola sait qu’on retourne en France, il est content mais sans plus, ça lui plait bien de voyager. Des fois il dit « pourquoi mon papa il est toujours à Béziers ? » La route semble bien longue quand même. Que de journées, de nuits de bus, de villes différentes, de coutumes qui changent à mesure de notre avancée, à chaque passage de frontière : l’habillement, les boutiques, la bouffe, les prix, la monnaie, le climat, les moyens de locomotion sur la route. Les oiseaux ne se montrent pas comme en Inde, plus de buffle non plus…
Dans le bus il y a un couple de québécois, c’est le fun de les entendre parler, écouter les histoires de Montréal, penser à ses histoires à soi… Ah ! Les infections… ça n’arrête pas ! Des petits bobos, mais tout le temps tout le temps : le doigt, le pied, le genoux, y en a marre ! J’ai hâte de me décharger du souci de Cola, ne plus avoir à veiller en permanence à son bien-être, soigner la moindre plaie, le faire manger, propre et tout… J’en ai encore pour un bon mois.
D’ici à là-bas, un grand salut. Bons baisers d’Hérat avec des mouches tout plein autour de moi.
La petite va-nu-pieds.
Salaam aleikum
Me revoilà dans les contrées musulmanes, je refais la route dans l’autre sens à quelques mois d’intervalle, et je repasse dans les mêmes endroits : Kabul, la Flower house… Maalik et sa grande cape brodée d’étoiles de toutes les couleurs, qu’il jette sur ses épaules en un geste de mage… Tous se disputent pour que les rares étrangers séjournent chez eux, ils offrent de fumer gratuitement… En ville, des tanks renversés, et personne pour s’inquiéter : ils n’ont pas l’air de réaliser ce que signifie l’entrée des Russes dans leur pays, cela ne les inquiéte pas. Je n’ai pas beaucoup d’info, ne sait que penser… mais j’ai bien peur pour mes amis afghans. Ce sont des gens sans malice, extrêmement amicaux, curieux de tout… Ils aiment à discuter avec les étrangers, ils aiment brasser des idées… Ils ne savent pas la méchanceté.
Bientôt l’Iran, les mulets, deux jours à la Caspienne, dix personnes qui font route vers la France dans un Leyland tout blanc… Cola sait qu’on retourne en France, il est content mais sans plus, ça lui plait bien de voyager. Des fois il dit « pourquoi mon papa il est toujours à Béziers ? » La route semble bien longue quand même. Que de journées, de nuits de bus, de villes différentes, de coutumes qui changent à mesure de notre avancée, à chaque passage de frontière : l’habillement, les boutiques, la bouffe, les prix, la monnaie, le climat, les moyens de locomotion sur la route. Les oiseaux ne se montrent pas comme en Inde, plus de buffle non plus…
Dans le bus il y a un couple de québécois, c’est le fun de les entendre parler, écouter les histoires de Montréal, penser à ses histoires à soi… Ah ! Les infections… ça n’arrête pas ! Des petits bobos, mais tout le temps tout le temps : le doigt, le pied, le genoux, y en a marre ! J’ai hâte de me décharger du souci de Cola, ne plus avoir à veiller en permanence à son bien-être, soigner la moindre plaie, le faire manger, propre et tout… J’en ai encore pour un bon mois.
D’ici à là-bas, un grand salut. Bons baisers d’Hérat avec des mouches tout plein autour de moi.
La petite va-nu-pieds.
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
L'Iran
En Iran, nous dormions sur le bas-côté des routes, avec une simple couverture… Arrivés à Tabriz, nous nous sommes arrêtés à l’entrée de la ville, un camp avec des sortes de yourtes, camping oriental… Le proprio nous a accueilli avec force démonstration d’amitié, offert le thé, et le lendemain, nous avions été dévalisés…
Moi je n’avais plus rien : passeport, argent… envolés ! Le couple de Québécois n’avait plus d’argent, un Hollandais déplorait sa collection de sabres, un autre ses pierres… Mais moi et Cola ne pouvions plus passer de frontières. Nous avons perquisitionné le logis de notre hôte, en vain.
Le Leyland devait s’arrêter une semaine à Istambul, car la plupart des voyageurs n’allaient pas plus loin, il fallait en trouver d’autres pour partager les frais. Nous fixâmes un rendez-vous, et je repartis à Téhéran en compagnie des Québécois. Ce fut une belle galère : refus de l’hôtel Amir Kabir – le seul qui acceptait des étrangers à l’époque – de me donner une chambre, nuit blottie dans le renfoncement d’une boutique, harcèlements, une bonne âme a fini par m’emmener dans un dortoir de travailleurs, une trentaine d’hommes ronflants, surtout ne pas faire de bruits, et repartir dés les premières lueurs du jour… Direction la police, crise de larmes, ils téléphonent à l’Amir Kabir les sommant de me loger… puis ambassade, reçue comme une malpropre… attente d’un laisser-passer… Je suis restée une semaine à Téhéran, ce qui m’a permis de constater le changement avec mon séjour à l’aller. J’avais été frappée par les tenues vestimentaires –jeans, mini-jupes, cheveux teints – et les fast-food, l’Iran était vendue à l’Amérique… Les portraits du shah étaient partout, c’était obligatoire. À mon retour ils avaient disparu des murs des boutiques… Je garde de cette semaine un souvenir de chaos, de paradoxe, et la couleur qui me vient est le noir, du noir partout….
J’ai du attendre une semaine sans argent le mandat qui me permettrait de continuer la route. Les Québécois avaient été dépanné par leur ambassade, ils ont eu la gentillesse de me prêter de quoi tenir en attendant, je n’avais d’argent que pour du riz blanc…
J’ai rencontré durant cette semaine des gens admirables… J’allais chaque jour à l’ambassade dans l’espoir de l‘arrivée de mon mandat, et je passais devant un petit cordonnier. Mes sandales éculées étaient en miettes… Un jour il m’arrête : Sister, donne tes sandales, je vais te les réparer. Je n’ai pas d’argent Donne tes sandales ! Pendant que je te les arrange, va manger de ma part au restaurant du bout de la rue. On ne te demandera rien. Et prend bien ce qu’il faut pour le petit !
Lorsqu’on est dans la détresse, un geste si minime soit-il… Que dire ? Les paroles de Brassens collent tout à fait : « Ce n’était rien qu’un peu de bois, mais il m’avait chauffé le cœur et dans mon âme il brûle encore, à la manière d’un grand festin ! »
Et cette femme, une autre fois, qui s’était levée de sa table pour apporter sur la mienne une succulente boisson au yaourt, des brochettes odorantes… Je ne demandais rien…
Et il y a eu l’inverse : des hommes qui - pour m’aider disaient-ils - me faisaient des propositions alléchantes, mais dés les premières paroles se révélaient sales, humiliantes…
À la fin de la semaine, les 500F que j’avais demandés étaient arrivés, et je réalisais que si je ratais le rendez-vous fixé avec le Leyland devant la Mosquée bleue d’Istambul, je n’aurais jamais assez pour atteindre la France… Quelle ne fût pas l’émotion de tous lorsque j’arrivais là… Le départ était fixé pour le lendemain…
Alors une dernière lettre ? La lettre du retour…
En Iran, nous dormions sur le bas-côté des routes, avec une simple couverture… Arrivés à Tabriz, nous nous sommes arrêtés à l’entrée de la ville, un camp avec des sortes de yourtes, camping oriental… Le proprio nous a accueilli avec force démonstration d’amitié, offert le thé, et le lendemain, nous avions été dévalisés…
Moi je n’avais plus rien : passeport, argent… envolés ! Le couple de Québécois n’avait plus d’argent, un Hollandais déplorait sa collection de sabres, un autre ses pierres… Mais moi et Cola ne pouvions plus passer de frontières. Nous avons perquisitionné le logis de notre hôte, en vain.
Le Leyland devait s’arrêter une semaine à Istambul, car la plupart des voyageurs n’allaient pas plus loin, il fallait en trouver d’autres pour partager les frais. Nous fixâmes un rendez-vous, et je repartis à Téhéran en compagnie des Québécois. Ce fut une belle galère : refus de l’hôtel Amir Kabir – le seul qui acceptait des étrangers à l’époque – de me donner une chambre, nuit blottie dans le renfoncement d’une boutique, harcèlements, une bonne âme a fini par m’emmener dans un dortoir de travailleurs, une trentaine d’hommes ronflants, surtout ne pas faire de bruits, et repartir dés les premières lueurs du jour… Direction la police, crise de larmes, ils téléphonent à l’Amir Kabir les sommant de me loger… puis ambassade, reçue comme une malpropre… attente d’un laisser-passer… Je suis restée une semaine à Téhéran, ce qui m’a permis de constater le changement avec mon séjour à l’aller. J’avais été frappée par les tenues vestimentaires –jeans, mini-jupes, cheveux teints – et les fast-food, l’Iran était vendue à l’Amérique… Les portraits du shah étaient partout, c’était obligatoire. À mon retour ils avaient disparu des murs des boutiques… Je garde de cette semaine un souvenir de chaos, de paradoxe, et la couleur qui me vient est le noir, du noir partout….
J’ai du attendre une semaine sans argent le mandat qui me permettrait de continuer la route. Les Québécois avaient été dépanné par leur ambassade, ils ont eu la gentillesse de me prêter de quoi tenir en attendant, je n’avais d’argent que pour du riz blanc…
J’ai rencontré durant cette semaine des gens admirables… J’allais chaque jour à l’ambassade dans l’espoir de l‘arrivée de mon mandat, et je passais devant un petit cordonnier. Mes sandales éculées étaient en miettes… Un jour il m’arrête : Sister, donne tes sandales, je vais te les réparer. Je n’ai pas d’argent Donne tes sandales ! Pendant que je te les arrange, va manger de ma part au restaurant du bout de la rue. On ne te demandera rien. Et prend bien ce qu’il faut pour le petit !
Lorsqu’on est dans la détresse, un geste si minime soit-il… Que dire ? Les paroles de Brassens collent tout à fait : « Ce n’était rien qu’un peu de bois, mais il m’avait chauffé le cœur et dans mon âme il brûle encore, à la manière d’un grand festin ! »
Et cette femme, une autre fois, qui s’était levée de sa table pour apporter sur la mienne une succulente boisson au yaourt, des brochettes odorantes… Je ne demandais rien…
Et il y a eu l’inverse : des hommes qui - pour m’aider disaient-ils - me faisaient des propositions alléchantes, mais dés les premières paroles se révélaient sales, humiliantes…
À la fin de la semaine, les 500F que j’avais demandés étaient arrivés, et je réalisais que si je ratais le rendez-vous fixé avec le Leyland devant la Mosquée bleue d’Istambul, je n’aurais jamais assez pour atteindre la France… Quelle ne fût pas l’émotion de tous lorsque j’arrivais là… Le départ était fixé pour le lendemain…
Alors une dernière lettre ? La lettre du retour…
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Fin juin 1978
Trés cher,
Ce soir, hi hi, arrivée des Indes chez les Bop’s, hi hi, un lit ! Et ma musique d’un Baba qui chante au son des Tablas… Que c’est bon ! À part une batterie de casseroles en cuivre accrochées au mur de la cuisine, et même que quand on est à table on se voit dedans, je ne vois rien de changé ici. Les mêmes tableaux, portraits d’une époque que l’on nomme renaissance, présentant des gens qui ont l’air de s’ennuyer, terriblement… Demain, si j’arrive à convaincre, je remplacerai tout ça par des choses vivantes, colorées.
Les paroles d’habitudes qui se traînent, un peu pressées toutefois, hé hé, ça fait du temps qu’on s’est pas vu. D’un coup tout est banal, avec un fond de renaissance, une rematérialisation de ma personne dans ma vie, quelque chose que j’ai interrompu quelque part, et que je reprends à un autre endroit…
Gaieté d’exister en ce monde. Il y a des gens, lorsqu’on se trouve face à eux, ils vous envoient une formidable quantité d’énergie, elle va se stocker à votre insu dans un coin du cerveau et vient au bon moment envahir le cœur. C’est comme une réserve de bonheur… (…)
Merci à ceux qui ont lu ces textes du passé des âges et des moments. Dans un mois exactement ma besace reprend du service, mes pieds m’emmènent encore une fois – la onzième - dans ce pays qui est un peu devenu mien… Onze, le chiffre de Vishnu…
Trés cher,
Ce soir, hi hi, arrivée des Indes chez les Bop’s, hi hi, un lit ! Et ma musique d’un Baba qui chante au son des Tablas… Que c’est bon ! À part une batterie de casseroles en cuivre accrochées au mur de la cuisine, et même que quand on est à table on se voit dedans, je ne vois rien de changé ici. Les mêmes tableaux, portraits d’une époque que l’on nomme renaissance, présentant des gens qui ont l’air de s’ennuyer, terriblement… Demain, si j’arrive à convaincre, je remplacerai tout ça par des choses vivantes, colorées.
Les paroles d’habitudes qui se traînent, un peu pressées toutefois, hé hé, ça fait du temps qu’on s’est pas vu. D’un coup tout est banal, avec un fond de renaissance, une rematérialisation de ma personne dans ma vie, quelque chose que j’ai interrompu quelque part, et que je reprends à un autre endroit…
Gaieté d’exister en ce monde. Il y a des gens, lorsqu’on se trouve face à eux, ils vous envoient une formidable quantité d’énergie, elle va se stocker à votre insu dans un coin du cerveau et vient au bon moment envahir le cœur. C’est comme une réserve de bonheur… (…)
Merci à ceux qui ont lu ces textes du passé des âges et des moments. Dans un mois exactement ma besace reprend du service, mes pieds m’emmènent encore une fois – la onzième - dans ce pays qui est un peu devenu mien… Onze, le chiffre de Vishnu…
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Superbe récit à travers le temps. Passionnant. Tu en as d'autres?
Et le petit Cola? Qu'est il devenu? Quels sont ses souvenirs de voyages?
Je soutiens le projet d'une école au Zanskar http://www.rigzen-zanskar.org
Bonjour Babeli😉😉😉
Un lettre de retour, il me semble que tu as décidé de t'installer la bas😊😊
moi je dirai une lettre de non retour😄😄
merci pour tout ces moments agréables
J'ai lu l'odeur de l'Inde de Pasolini. En 1961, Pasolini fit un voyage en Inde.
Aujourd'hui j'ai eu l'odeur des Indes 1977 par Babeli
J'ai eu l'odeur des Indes par Douya, Fabricia et Phil........
à Mon tour inchallah😊
Un lettre de retour, il me semble que tu as décidé de t'installer la bas😊😊
moi je dirai une lettre de non retour😄😄
merci pour tout ces moments agréables
J'ai lu l'odeur de l'Inde de Pasolini. En 1961, Pasolini fit un voyage en Inde.
Aujourd'hui j'ai eu l'odeur des Indes 1977 par Babeli
J'ai eu l'odeur des Indes par Douya, Fabricia et Phil........
à Mon tour inchallah😊
Kaou
"Si tu ne sais pas où tu vas, retournes-toi et souviens-toi d'où tu viens"
"Si tu ne sais pas où tu vas, retournes-toi et souviens-toi d'où tu viens"
Bonjour Zabinouk,
Si j'en ai d'autres ? Voui... De la Turquie à la Syrie, de la Tunisie à l'Egypte… Quand à l'Afrique… toute une année… Soudan, Kenya, Uganda… ect… Pour ce dernier Cola était avec moi, c'est lui qui m'avait mené sur les chemins de l'Afrique. Moi je n'avais qu'une idée, retourner en Inde… Nous avions fait un long stop en Crète, et dépliions la carte du monde, nous demandant vers où nous allions poursuivre. Il pointait toujours un petit passage, au Nord de l'Uganda, je ne sais pas pourquoi… C'est là que nous avons connu les plus grands moments de notre voyage, et le plus fort c'est que nous y sommes arrivés sans le faire exprès…
Enfin… Que de moments partagés…
Le petit tu t'en doutes est devenu grand. Les souvenirs qu'il garde de nos aventures sont hyper positifs. Il dit qu'il a appris à relativiser, à ne pas prendre une idée comme la seule valable. Il dit aussi que comme nous étions tout le temps avec des gens du pays, il a pu se faire une idée de ce que sont les gens au-delà de leur couleur de peau et de leur modes de vie, et tant de choses encore…
Il a fait des études de design, a travaillé un moment dans des boîtes pour se rendre compte que la mentalité "produire pour vendre" n'était décidément pas la sienne. Après un an à faire "de l'alimentaire" en intérim, il a créé sa boîte : web designer, formateur, etc… En ce moment il est débordé ! Si ça t'intéresse, tu peux visiter son site web
www.design.com
Tu sauras tout, et il y a mis aussi ses photos de voyage.
Amitié et beaucoup de beaux voyages à toi eli
Si j'en ai d'autres ? Voui... De la Turquie à la Syrie, de la Tunisie à l'Egypte… Quand à l'Afrique… toute une année… Soudan, Kenya, Uganda… ect… Pour ce dernier Cola était avec moi, c'est lui qui m'avait mené sur les chemins de l'Afrique. Moi je n'avais qu'une idée, retourner en Inde… Nous avions fait un long stop en Crète, et dépliions la carte du monde, nous demandant vers où nous allions poursuivre. Il pointait toujours un petit passage, au Nord de l'Uganda, je ne sais pas pourquoi… C'est là que nous avons connu les plus grands moments de notre voyage, et le plus fort c'est que nous y sommes arrivés sans le faire exprès…
Enfin… Que de moments partagés…
Le petit tu t'en doutes est devenu grand. Les souvenirs qu'il garde de nos aventures sont hyper positifs. Il dit qu'il a appris à relativiser, à ne pas prendre une idée comme la seule valable. Il dit aussi que comme nous étions tout le temps avec des gens du pays, il a pu se faire une idée de ce que sont les gens au-delà de leur couleur de peau et de leur modes de vie, et tant de choses encore…
Il a fait des études de design, a travaillé un moment dans des boîtes pour se rendre compte que la mentalité "produire pour vendre" n'était décidément pas la sienne. Après un an à faire "de l'alimentaire" en intérim, il a créé sa boîte : web designer, formateur, etc… En ce moment il est débordé ! Si ça t'intéresse, tu peux visiter son site web
www.design.com
Tu sauras tout, et il y a mis aussi ses photos de voyage.
Amitié et beaucoup de beaux voyages à toi eli
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Bonjour Kaou,
Une lettre de retour… oui, là-bas bien sûr ! 🙂
Nous avons beaucoup d'odeur de l'Inde sur ce forum, mais aller se jeter dans ses bras… Mmmmh ! J'en frémis…
Amitié
eli
Une lettre de retour… oui, là-bas bien sûr ! 🙂
Nous avons beaucoup d'odeur de l'Inde sur ce forum, mais aller se jeter dans ses bras… Mmmmh ! J'en frémis…
Amitié
eli
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
j'ai pas eu le temps de tout lire, parceque il fait trés sommeil mais je voulais juste te dire cela : ca DECHIRE, c'est de la bombe ATOMIQUE, j'adore, j'adore, j'adore.
isabelle.
isabelle.
"La liberté de la graine réside dans l'accomplissement de sa nature qui est de devenir un arbre"
Rabindranath Tagora
…dort …dort…dort lol
Merci Izanora, t'est un chou…
Merci Izanora, t'est un chou…
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
" une lente mort collective, des êtres asphyxiés par des machines, abrutis par la course aux dollars et qui transforment des liens fraternels en rivalité imbécile pour avoir plus de ce qu’ils n’ont pas besoin… L’esprit jamais ne s’arrête d’élucubrer des plans de développement, mais à quoi sert de développer du vide ? La matière est pleine de vide… "
Ce passage, il est terrible, terrible...le monde est ivre de materialiste, les gens sont souler, souler de consommation...et cela avait déjà commencer en 77 et ca a pris des proportions, on frise la démence...les gens n'arrive plus à s'éveiller, mais j'ai espoir qu'un jour l'humanité va prendre conscience de ce trésor qu'elle porte en elle, on cessera d'etre les uns contres les autres pour etres les uns avec les autres. REVEILLEZ-VOUS. merci babeli pour ces lettres que je vais lire et relire encore, parcequ'il y a vraiment plein de passages extraordinaire.
j'ai aimé aussi le lavage des pieds, ca m'a fait penser a jesus qui lava les pieds de ses disciples j'en aimé l'inspiration de shiva aprés le shilom...ca m'a donné envie de fumer, dommage que je n'aime plus fumer. j'ai pleuré quand je (tu)suis arrivé en Iran, parceque j'ai eu des réponses aux questions que je me suis posée quand j'ai visiter l'iran.
Ce passage, il est terrible, terrible...le monde est ivre de materialiste, les gens sont souler, souler de consommation...et cela avait déjà commencer en 77 et ca a pris des proportions, on frise la démence...les gens n'arrive plus à s'éveiller, mais j'ai espoir qu'un jour l'humanité va prendre conscience de ce trésor qu'elle porte en elle, on cessera d'etre les uns contres les autres pour etres les uns avec les autres. REVEILLEZ-VOUS. merci babeli pour ces lettres que je vais lire et relire encore, parcequ'il y a vraiment plein de passages extraordinaire.
j'ai aimé aussi le lavage des pieds, ca m'a fait penser a jesus qui lava les pieds de ses disciples j'en aimé l'inspiration de shiva aprés le shilom...ca m'a donné envie de fumer, dommage que je n'aime plus fumer. j'ai pleuré quand je (tu)suis arrivé en Iran, parceque j'ai eu des réponses aux questions que je me suis posée quand j'ai visiter l'iran.
"La liberté de la graine réside dans l'accomplissement de sa nature qui est de devenir un arbre"
Rabindranath Tagora
Merci pour ton commentaire Iza.
Et oui, en 77 ça avait déjà commencé… depuis quelques années…
Je te livre la parole d'un moine cambodgien, bouddhiste donc, lors de son cent'unième anniversaire. Je lui avais demandé - en naïve : Bhanté, comment apporter la Paix dans le monde ?
Sa réponse : Fais la paix en ton coeur. Tu ne peux donner ce que tu n'as pas…
Merci Bhanté Dharmawara ! C'est une des plus belles âmes qu'il m'ait été donné de rencontrer…
Il est mort à 104 ans… il y a quelques années…
Et oui, en 77 ça avait déjà commencé… depuis quelques années…
Je te livre la parole d'un moine cambodgien, bouddhiste donc, lors de son cent'unième anniversaire. Je lui avais demandé - en naïve : Bhanté, comment apporter la Paix dans le monde ?
Sa réponse : Fais la paix en ton coeur. Tu ne peux donner ce que tu n'as pas…
Merci Bhanté Dharmawara ! C'est une des plus belles âmes qu'il m'ait été donné de rencontrer…
Il est mort à 104 ans… il y a quelques années…
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Un grand bonjour a tous de Chidambaram dans le Tamil Nadu. Le temple est d'une grandeur ancestrale, impressionnant, avec ses milliers de pilliers, son toit d'or, ses sculptures representant toutes les positions de la danse de Shiva. J'ai assiste au coucher de Shiva dans la chambre de Parvati, ca a lieu tous les soirs a 22h. La divinite est promenee en palanquin dore tout autour du temple, avec une troupe de musicien, des lancers de fleurs, des offrandes de flammes, les dieux sont couches sur un lit de roses... Plus kitch que ca tu meurs. Un regal.
Sinon la mousson est rude cette annee, pluie pluie pluie... Heureusement, j'aime l'eau.
Pleins de bisous parfumes...
eli
Sinon la mousson est rude cette annee, pluie pluie pluie... Heureusement, j'aime l'eau.
Pleins de bisous parfumes...
eli
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Coucou,
La cérémonie du soir du temple de Nataraja est inoubliable, une ambiance indescriptible, un vacarme assourdissant de cloches et tambours, une foule qui se presse les mains jointes au dessus de la tête, à la limite des transes, incantations, feu sacré, c'est vraiment un grand moment à ne pas rater !!
Amicalement,
Sandrine
La cérémonie du soir du temple de Nataraja est inoubliable, une ambiance indescriptible, un vacarme assourdissant de cloches et tambours, une foule qui se presse les mains jointes au dessus de la tête, à la limite des transes, incantations, feu sacré, c'est vraiment un grand moment à ne pas rater !!
Amicalement,
Sandrine
Bonjour Babeli,
je suis au bureau et comme je n'ai rien a faire, je vais sur voyage forum. Apres quelques carnets de voyages divers et variés, je suis tombé sur tes lettres. Tout comme les autres commentateurs (oh comme ce mot n'est pas beau), je te remercie pour ces morceaux d'inde et d'ailleurs, si jolis, ils m'ont laissé une douce impression de mélancolie. Ils me font aussi me poser différentes questions: l'envie de faire une vie de voyages me tente, mais j'hésite car je me demande s'il y a un retour possible. C'est pourquoi je te demande, lorsqu'on s'est immergé longtemps et profondement dans un autre monde, est il possible de rentrer, d'etre a nouveau en phase avec son entourage, ces voyages qui sont si beaux et dont on revient si riches de rencontres, ne creusent ils pas finalement un fossé avec le reste du monde et tout particulierement nos amis? Voila, toi qui a l'air d'avoir pas mal voyagé et longtemps, qu'en penses tu?
Merci encore pour tes textes, un peu de poésie au milieu d'un monde de sous n'est pas désagréable...🙂
je suis au bureau et comme je n'ai rien a faire, je vais sur voyage forum. Apres quelques carnets de voyages divers et variés, je suis tombé sur tes lettres. Tout comme les autres commentateurs (oh comme ce mot n'est pas beau), je te remercie pour ces morceaux d'inde et d'ailleurs, si jolis, ils m'ont laissé une douce impression de mélancolie. Ils me font aussi me poser différentes questions: l'envie de faire une vie de voyages me tente, mais j'hésite car je me demande s'il y a un retour possible. C'est pourquoi je te demande, lorsqu'on s'est immergé longtemps et profondement dans un autre monde, est il possible de rentrer, d'etre a nouveau en phase avec son entourage, ces voyages qui sont si beaux et dont on revient si riches de rencontres, ne creusent ils pas finalement un fossé avec le reste du monde et tout particulierement nos amis? Voila, toi qui a l'air d'avoir pas mal voyagé et longtemps, qu'en penses tu?
Merci encore pour tes textes, un peu de poésie au milieu d'un monde de sous n'est pas désagréable...🙂
Bonjour petitpanda,
et merci d'avoir pris le temps… Pour répondre à ta question, tout dépend du temps justement. Lorsqu'on s'immerge dans une autre culture, on se transforme, subrepticement pour certains aspects qui échappent à la conscience. Ca agit à travers nous… Plus on y reste longtemps, plus le fossé se creuse. Ceci dit, cela a l'intérêt de permettre une distance, et un regard autre sur notre propre culture. Les relations amicales se distendent si on ne les entretient pas, du fait de la distance géographique aussi, et de partager moins de choses au quotidien. D'un autre côté, on a l'occasion de nouer de très belles amitiés à l'autre bout du monde, de celles qui vous font oublier tout regret. Au final, on a la vie qu'on s'est choisie…
Amité
eli
et merci d'avoir pris le temps… Pour répondre à ta question, tout dépend du temps justement. Lorsqu'on s'immerge dans une autre culture, on se transforme, subrepticement pour certains aspects qui échappent à la conscience. Ca agit à travers nous… Plus on y reste longtemps, plus le fossé se creuse. Ceci dit, cela a l'intérêt de permettre une distance, et un regard autre sur notre propre culture. Les relations amicales se distendent si on ne les entretient pas, du fait de la distance géographique aussi, et de partager moins de choses au quotidien. D'un autre côté, on a l'occasion de nouer de très belles amitiés à l'autre bout du monde, de celles qui vous font oublier tout regret. Au final, on a la vie qu'on s'est choisie…
Amité
eli
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Bonjour Vishnu,
Je n'avais pas vu ton intervention, désolée… et merci aussi à toi pour ta lecture. Tu n'oses pas partir seule en Inde ? Pourquoi ??? Si je peux te rassurer en quelque chose, n'hésite pas à poser des questions.
Amicalement eli
Je n'avais pas vu ton intervention, désolée… et merci aussi à toi pour ta lecture. Tu n'oses pas partir seule en Inde ? Pourquoi ??? Si je peux te rassurer en quelque chose, n'hésite pas à poser des questions.
Amicalement eli
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
woaaaaaaaaaou génial, je suis au boulot et grâce à toi et quelques membres VF passionnés de l'inde, vous me faites voyager
Merci d'avoir aussi bien retranscrit ce que tu as vécu la bas, j'ai hâte de voir ça de mes propres yeux, c'est pour bientôt 😉 j'en trépigne d'avance 😛😎😄
L'impulsion du voyage est l'un des plus encourageants symptômes de la vie.
Elle m’a emmené voir les soeurs… Lorsque je leur ai parlé de mon voyage, elles m’ont pris dans leurs bras, m’ont fait asseoir sur une chaise, ont amené une bassine d’eau, m’ont lavé les pieds avec tant de douceur, tant d’amour… Je ne savais plus où me mettre, j’étais émue : jamais on ne m’a lavé les pieds de cette façon, j’avais l’impression d’être une sainte…
Mes sandales éculées étaient en miettes… Un jour il m’arrête : Sister, donne tes sandales, je vais te les réparer. Je n’ai pas d’argent Donne tes sandales ! Pendant que je te les arrange, va manger de ma part au restaurant du bout de la rue. On ne te demandera rien. Et prend bien ce qu’il faut pour le petit !
Waouh, je suis bien heureuse de trainer sur Vf et de découvrir ton récit... J'comprends pas comment je suis passée à côté...😊 Mille mercis chère Eli, que la route te soit encore douce et pleine de bonheurs 🙂 A tout bientôt 😎
Mes sandales éculées étaient en miettes… Un jour il m’arrête : Sister, donne tes sandales, je vais te les réparer. Je n’ai pas d’argent Donne tes sandales ! Pendant que je te les arrange, va manger de ma part au restaurant du bout de la rue. On ne te demandera rien. Et prend bien ce qu’il faut pour le petit !
Waouh, je suis bien heureuse de trainer sur Vf et de découvrir ton récit... J'comprends pas comment je suis passée à côté...😊 Mille mercis chère Eli, que la route te soit encore douce et pleine de bonheurs 🙂 A tout bientôt 😎
Fainéanter dans un monde neuf est la plus absorbante des occupations... (N.Bouvier)
C'est vrai, merci Eli, c'est magnifique et ça rappelle l'époque où l'on écrivait encore de sa plus belle plume, au propre comme au figuré. Merci aussi à Parvat d'avoir fait remonter ce fil pour 2007.
J'y ai retrouvé cette alternance du pire et du meilleur si caractéristique à l'Inde ou plus exactement ces moments magiques ou tout bascule alors que tu as encore une larme au coin de l'œil. Tellement riche d'enseignement ces voyages, parcourir l'Inde c'est vraiment se parcourir, se découvrir soi-même.
J'y ai retrouvé cette alternance du pire et du meilleur si caractéristique à l'Inde ou plus exactement ces moments magiques ou tout bascule alors que tu as encore une larme au coin de l'œil. Tellement riche d'enseignement ces voyages, parcourir l'Inde c'est vraiment se parcourir, se découvrir soi-même.
Avec tes défauts pas de hâte, ne vas pas à la légère les corriger. Qu'irais-tu mettre à la place ?
Henri Michaux in Poteau d'angle
Merci à vous d'être passées par là. L'Inde me prend le coeur plus que jamais… Trop beau ! J'ai vraiment l'impression de passer de l'autre côté du mirroir. Wow !!!
Plein de bisous à vous de mon Inde chérie
eli
Plein de bisous à vous de mon Inde chérie
eli
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
bonjour a toi petite hippie...
ton voyage m'a mis les larmes aux yeux, et cela faisait longtemps...
je suis sur les routes d'afrique, les pied nus moi aussi, accompagné de mon fidel compagnon, Salam... un dromadaire. j'ai du faire une petite pose rapatriment pour une opperation a la jambe mais reprend la route tres bientot! apres le temps de mon chemain boheme en afrique, je compte faire celui de l'inde, suivre les pas de mes predecesseurs cherchant la vérité et la paix dans mon coeur.
tes recits ne font que stimuler un peu plus mon reve de voyage, d'évolution de mes pensées... voyager avec son enfant, quelle magnifique aventure se doit etre! quel age avait il?
je repars dans quelques jours pour le burkina, apres, peut etre le niger direction le kenya ou bien le benin... je ne sais encore le monde occidental me pese, ici tout comme dans les capitales africaines rongés par le capitalisme, l'argent et la non solidarité... j'ai mal.. c'est telement triste alor que dans les villages on retrouve la totale opposition a la vie qu'ils tente d'avoir, l'amour, la solidarité, la simplicité, les valeurs fondamentals! au depart, mon voyage en afrique se dirigeait vers l'afrique de l'ouest, mais bien vite cette idée est sortit de ma tete, ou tout du moi, se sera pour le retour, j'ai envi de rencontrer des peuples plus vrai, plus profonds, anciens... peut etre des tribus pigmés ou je ne sais quoi d'autre de tout aussi fascinant!
j'ai toujours revé d'inde et mes amis hippies rencontrés tout au long de ma route vagabonde n'a fait que booster un peu plus se reve d'enfant... Les chemains de katmandou!!!
je ne veux pas etre indiscret mais quel age a tu maintenant? et ton fils...
vis tu en inde ou en france en ce moment, bien que ce n'est pas pour tout de suite, je partirais la ba, et si j'ai l'occasion de t'y rencontrer, se serais un reel plaisir!
lepaf.uniterre.com
je suis sur les routes d'afrique, les pied nus moi aussi, accompagné de mon fidel compagnon, Salam... un dromadaire. j'ai du faire une petite pose rapatriment pour une opperation a la jambe mais reprend la route tres bientot! apres le temps de mon chemain boheme en afrique, je compte faire celui de l'inde, suivre les pas de mes predecesseurs cherchant la vérité et la paix dans mon coeur.
tes recits ne font que stimuler un peu plus mon reve de voyage, d'évolution de mes pensées... voyager avec son enfant, quelle magnifique aventure se doit etre! quel age avait il?
je repars dans quelques jours pour le burkina, apres, peut etre le niger direction le kenya ou bien le benin... je ne sais encore le monde occidental me pese, ici tout comme dans les capitales africaines rongés par le capitalisme, l'argent et la non solidarité... j'ai mal.. c'est telement triste alor que dans les villages on retrouve la totale opposition a la vie qu'ils tente d'avoir, l'amour, la solidarité, la simplicité, les valeurs fondamentals! au depart, mon voyage en afrique se dirigeait vers l'afrique de l'ouest, mais bien vite cette idée est sortit de ma tete, ou tout du moi, se sera pour le retour, j'ai envi de rencontrer des peuples plus vrai, plus profonds, anciens... peut etre des tribus pigmés ou je ne sais quoi d'autre de tout aussi fascinant!
j'ai toujours revé d'inde et mes amis hippies rencontrés tout au long de ma route vagabonde n'a fait que booster un peu plus se reve d'enfant... Les chemains de katmandou!!!
je ne veux pas etre indiscret mais quel age a tu maintenant? et ton fils...
vis tu en inde ou en france en ce moment, bien que ce n'est pas pour tout de suite, je partirais la ba, et si j'ai l'occasion de t'y rencontrer, se serais un reel plaisir!
lepaf.uniterre.com
Paf... Paix, Amour, Fraternité... Shanti Sena...
hippie en quête d'un monde plus juste, plus simple... marchons ensembles, main dans la main vers un monde meilleur. Paix et amour mes frères...yalla...
Bonjour traveller of Africa,
Mon fils avait trois ans et demie quand je suis partie, quatre et demie au retour. Il a eu trente trois ans il y a quelques mois… Un beau gars… Mon âge ? Je l'ai perdu en route… lol.
Je te souhaite plein de belles rencontres pour guider ton chemin vers la paix que tu cherches. Elle est là, tout prèt de toi… déguisée… mais là. Pas évident de la saisir. Quand on veut très fort quelque chose…
Bonne route
eli
Petit clin d'oeil, trente ans après, mon dernier article : Eli au pays des sadhu…
http://www.elishams.org/Eli-au-pays-des-sadhu.html
Mon fils avait trois ans et demie quand je suis partie, quatre et demie au retour. Il a eu trente trois ans il y a quelques mois… Un beau gars… Mon âge ? Je l'ai perdu en route… lol.
Je te souhaite plein de belles rencontres pour guider ton chemin vers la paix que tu cherches. Elle est là, tout prèt de toi… déguisée… mais là. Pas évident de la saisir. Quand on veut très fort quelque chose…
Bonne route
eli
Petit clin d'oeil, trente ans après, mon dernier article : Eli au pays des sadhu…
http://www.elishams.org/Eli-au-pays-des-sadhu.html
ektâ me bal hai dans l'Un est la force Proverbe indien.
Je remonte ce magnifique carnet composé de lettres pour ceux qui ne l ont pas lu
Merci pour ce récit. La plus belle histoire qu'il m'ait été donné de lire ici.
Un voyageur anonyme
Un voyageur anonyme
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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?Bonjour tout le monde, nous voici rentrés d'un RT USA organisé par nos soins du 31/07/2026 au 26/08/2026.
La destination : Le Sud-Ouest USA avec le Texas, l'Arizona et le Nouveau-Mexique. 7000 kilomètres effectués à la louche.
L'Auto : Une Chevrolet Equinoxe pour deux en passant par BSP Auto et Avis. Et dedans 2 valises, un sac de voyage, deux valises cabines, la glacière de chez Walmart, le matos photos et les bouteilles d'eau (pack de 40).
Le trajet : Dallas DFW, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Alpine, El Paso, Tucson, Sedona, Albuquerque, Amarillo et Dallas pour finir avec départ sur DFW.
Les voyageurs : Deux séniors bien avancés dans l'âge (73 et 75) mais toujours en activité (pas épuisante physiquement) (pour rester vivants et financer les voyages), autonomes physiquement à 100%, intellectuellement beaucoup moins, passionnés des USA, pays où tout est possible, plus marcheurs que randonneurs, plutôt hôtels à partir de 3 étoiles que motels de bord de route, plutôt restos Italiens que nourriture US, adeptes des arrêts fréquents pour les photos, plutôt musées que rien, Plutôt sieste que marches forcées. Pas trop râleurs, juste ce qu'il faut pour rester français au pays du grand Satan qu'ils disent. Pas trés doués pour les langues, Anglais des rues (mais bien pratique), Espagnol nul pour moi hormis : " Hola ! Una Cerveza por Favor ! " Cela fait court. Madame comprend tout mais refuse de parler.
Le coût du RT : Environ 12 000 euros avec les vols AF, Auto, Essence, cadeaux, visites et tutti quanti. Bien maitrisé puisque 13500 euros prévus au départ.
Le bilan positif : Un régal avec les longues routes à perte de vue. Des Musées à découvrir. Le constat de la présence Hispanique et de son Histoire importante dans ce secteur de l'Amérique. Des locaux adorables. Des touristes plus ou moins sympas. Un accent Texan abominable et difficile à comprendre. Des stations Gas qui sont de véritables magasins avec nourriture préparée et autre alcools vendus en Arizona et Nouveau-Mexique et des employés au top ! Toujours prêts à rigoler !
Le bilan négatif : La chaleur tout au long du séjour...43° sur Dallas en fin de séjour. Impossible de sortir dans les rues. Beaucoup de "Homeless" dans les rues de l'Hyper Centre de Dallas. Les breakfasts Hôtel toujours les mêmes. On s'y fait.
Donc, positif certes mais le concept commence à fatiguer. Il se pourrait que le modèle RT autonome soit repensé pour le prochain. SI celui qui est en haut nous prête vie.
Pour la suite, attendons les premières photos triées et passées à la moulinette.
A bientôt.
La destination : Le Sud-Ouest USA avec le Texas, l'Arizona et le Nouveau-Mexique. 7000 kilomètres effectués à la louche.
L'Auto : Une Chevrolet Equinoxe pour deux en passant par BSP Auto et Avis. Et dedans 2 valises, un sac de voyage, deux valises cabines, la glacière de chez Walmart, le matos photos et les bouteilles d'eau (pack de 40).
Le trajet : Dallas DFW, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Alpine, El Paso, Tucson, Sedona, Albuquerque, Amarillo et Dallas pour finir avec départ sur DFW.
Les voyageurs : Deux séniors bien avancés dans l'âge (73 et 75) mais toujours en activité (pas épuisante physiquement) (pour rester vivants et financer les voyages), autonomes physiquement à 100%, intellectuellement beaucoup moins, passionnés des USA, pays où tout est possible, plus marcheurs que randonneurs, plutôt hôtels à partir de 3 étoiles que motels de bord de route, plutôt restos Italiens que nourriture US, adeptes des arrêts fréquents pour les photos, plutôt musées que rien, Plutôt sieste que marches forcées. Pas trop râleurs, juste ce qu'il faut pour rester français au pays du grand Satan qu'ils disent. Pas trés doués pour les langues, Anglais des rues (mais bien pratique), Espagnol nul pour moi hormis : " Hola ! Una Cerveza por Favor ! " Cela fait court. Madame comprend tout mais refuse de parler.
Le coût du RT : Environ 12 000 euros avec les vols AF, Auto, Essence, cadeaux, visites et tutti quanti. Bien maitrisé puisque 13500 euros prévus au départ.
Le bilan positif : Un régal avec les longues routes à perte de vue. Des Musées à découvrir. Le constat de la présence Hispanique et de son Histoire importante dans ce secteur de l'Amérique. Des locaux adorables. Des touristes plus ou moins sympas. Un accent Texan abominable et difficile à comprendre. Des stations Gas qui sont de véritables magasins avec nourriture préparée et autre alcools vendus en Arizona et Nouveau-Mexique et des employés au top ! Toujours prêts à rigoler !
Le bilan négatif : La chaleur tout au long du séjour...43° sur Dallas en fin de séjour. Impossible de sortir dans les rues. Beaucoup de "Homeless" dans les rues de l'Hyper Centre de Dallas. Les breakfasts Hôtel toujours les mêmes. On s'y fait.
Donc, positif certes mais le concept commence à fatiguer. Il se pourrait que le modèle RT autonome soit repensé pour le prochain. SI celui qui est en haut nous prête vie.
Pour la suite, attendons les premières photos triées et passées à la moulinette.
A bientôt.
Hi everyone, I’m Patrick, 67 years old, a seasoned traveler (already 22 trips outside Europe).
In autumn 2025, I took my first 3-week trip to Japan, with stops in Tokyo, Kamakura, Matsumoto, Kamikochi, Takayama, Kanazawa, Kyoto, Nara, Osaka, Koyasan, Tokyo again, and Nikko.
I wanted to go back in May 2026 and explore some lesser-known places to complement my first trip.
Last year, there were four of us traveling together to discover Japan (a fairly classic itinerary). This time, I’ll be traveling solo for part of the trip and with a couple of French friends for the rest.
The weather was gorgeous in May, averaging around 25°C, with two very hot days in Kyoto and only two rainy days.
As usual, I organized everything myself, gathering plenty of information from various sites, including this one.
Transportation: An ICOCA card is essential. I got a 5-day Kansai-Hiroshima pass because I took the shinkansen between Hiroshima and Osaka three times, and it paid for itself quickly.
Accommodations: Mostly through Booking. No issues at all. Average cost was 46 € per night.
Meals: For breakfast, I alternated between buying food at a konbini to eat in my room or on the train and grabbing something at local cafés. For lunch and dinner, I tried to vary my meals as much as possible—lots of sashimi, sushi, and ramen. Okonomiyaki in Osaka and Hiroshima. Oysters in every form (raw, grilled, fried) in Onomichi and Hiroshima. A variety of seafood (shrimp, shellfish) in Hiroshima and Matsumoto. Fish whose names often escaped me, but notably mackerel and eel (unagi). Tempura and gyoza. Chicken skewers (yakitori) and one teppanyaki meal. One omakase meal (9 different dishes). In the end, not much meat aside from a few yakitori skewers. No splurges on super expensive wagyu or Kobe beef. Average dinner cost: 4,800 yen, drinks included.
The Itinerary: Day 1: Departure from Brussels Day 2: Arrival in Osaka Day 3: To Himeji, then Kurashiki Day 4: To Fukuyama, then Tomo no Ura, then Onomichi Day 5: Cycling the Shimanami Kaido Day 6: To Takahara, then Hiroshima Day 7: To Kyoto to attend the Aoi Matsuri parade Day 8: To Miyajima Day 9: Hiroshima, then Kyoto Day 10: Southern Kyoto Day 11: Northern Kyoto Day 12: Final day in Kyoto, then to Nagatsugawa Day 13: Start of the Nakasendo Trail (Magome to Tsumago) Day 14: Second day of the trail (Kiso Fukushima) Day 15: Third day of the trail (Narai), then Matsumoto Day 16: To Mt. Fuji (Kawaguchiko) Day 17: To Tokyo Day 18: Excursion to Enoshima and Kamakura Day 19: Flight home, with a 10-hour layover in Hong Kong Day 20: Arrival in Brussels
Transportation: An ICOCA card is essential. I got a 5-day Kansai-Hiroshima pass because I took the shinkansen between Hiroshima and Osaka three times, and it paid for itself quickly.
Accommodations: Mostly through Booking. No issues at all. Average cost was 46 € per night.
Meals: For breakfast, I alternated between buying food at a konbini to eat in my room or on the train and grabbing something at local cafés. For lunch and dinner, I tried to vary my meals as much as possible—lots of sashimi, sushi, and ramen. Okonomiyaki in Osaka and Hiroshima. Oysters in every form (raw, grilled, fried) in Onomichi and Hiroshima. A variety of seafood (shrimp, shellfish) in Hiroshima and Matsumoto. Fish whose names often escaped me, but notably mackerel and eel (unagi). Tempura and gyoza. Chicken skewers (yakitori) and one teppanyaki meal. One omakase meal (9 different dishes). In the end, not much meat aside from a few yakitori skewers. No splurges on super expensive wagyu or Kobe beef. Average dinner cost: 4,800 yen, drinks included.
The Itinerary: Day 1: Departure from Brussels Day 2: Arrival in Osaka Day 3: To Himeji, then Kurashiki Day 4: To Fukuyama, then Tomo no Ura, then Onomichi Day 5: Cycling the Shimanami Kaido Day 6: To Takahara, then Hiroshima Day 7: To Kyoto to attend the Aoi Matsuri parade Day 8: To Miyajima Day 9: Hiroshima, then Kyoto Day 10: Southern Kyoto Day 11: Northern Kyoto Day 12: Final day in Kyoto, then to Nagatsugawa Day 13: Start of the Nakasendo Trail (Magome to Tsumago) Day 14: Second day of the trail (Kiso Fukushima) Day 15: Third day of the trail (Narai), then Matsumoto Day 16: To Mt. Fuji (Kawaguchiko) Day 17: To Tokyo Day 18: Excursion to Enoshima and Kamakura Day 19: Flight home, with a 10-hour layover in Hong Kong Day 20: Arrival in Brussels
Bonjour,
Il arrive souvent qu'on nous demande quoi visiter en Belgique . Et les réponses ramènent le plus souvent à Bruges , Gand, Anvers et Bruxelles , avec raison , ces villes valant la peine d'être visitées 😉 . Toutefois, la Belgique, bien que petite , ne se limite pas à ces 4 villes .
J'habite l'une d'entre elles ( Bruxelles) , passe avec plaisir du temps dans les trois autres , mais j'ai envie d'aborder d'autres coins moins connus , qui pourront compléter le séjour de ceux qui ont envie d'en voir un peu plus , ou de voir autre chose . C'est qu'entre deux voyages , j'aime bien visiter l'un ou l'autre coin du pays où j'habite .
D'où l'idée d'un carnet de balades .
La plupart des endroits dont je vais parler peuvent être visités en faisant l'aller-retour le même jour , au départ de Bruxelles , que ce soit en transports en commun ou en voiture .
Dans l'ordre chronologique des sujets abordés :
- Le barrage de la Gileppe ( province de Liège) -message 2 , page 1 - Le domaine de La Hulpe ( Brabant wallon ) - message 3 , page 1 - Malines ( province d'Anvers ) message 4 , page 1 - La côte - message 5 , page 1 - Le Westhoek , au départ de La Panne - message 6 , page 1 - Le Zwin, au départ de Knokke - message 7 , page 1 - Lier ( entre Malines et Anvers ) - message 8 , page 1 - Mons (Hainaut) - message 9 , page 1 - La région de Florenville . - message 12 , page 1 - Les Cantons de l'Est - message 13 , page 1 - Dinant - message 18 , page 1 - Le jardin japonais d'Hasselt - message 24 , page 2 - Louvain message 29 , page 2 - Louvain-la-neuve - message 32 , page 2 - Ostende - message 42 (page 3) et message 166 (page 9) - Les floralies de Grand-Bigard . - message 43 , page 3 - Le bois de Halle -message 44 , page 3 - Les pralines - message 54 , page 3 - Charleroi - message 68 , page 4 - Namur - message 92 , page 5 - Le Bois du Cazier ( Marcinelle) - message 95 , page 5 - Les couques et les gozettes - message 96 , page 5 - Liège - message 99 , page 5 - Tournai - message 115 , page 6 . - Audenarde ( Oudenaarde ) - message 121, page 7 - Jardin botanique de Meise - message 124, page 7 . - Tongres ( Tongeren ) - message 125 , page 7 . - Château de Beersel ( Brabant flamand) - message 126, page 7 . - Bruxelles confinée ( messages 150 et 154 , page 8 ) - L'hôpital Notre Dame à la Rose , à Lessines ( messages 161 et 162 , page 9 ) . - Westende ( message 167, page 9) je complète cette liste au fur et à mesure de l'avancement du carnet ...
Il arrive souvent qu'on nous demande quoi visiter en Belgique . Et les réponses ramènent le plus souvent à Bruges , Gand, Anvers et Bruxelles , avec raison , ces villes valant la peine d'être visitées 😉 . Toutefois, la Belgique, bien que petite , ne se limite pas à ces 4 villes .
J'habite l'une d'entre elles ( Bruxelles) , passe avec plaisir du temps dans les trois autres , mais j'ai envie d'aborder d'autres coins moins connus , qui pourront compléter le séjour de ceux qui ont envie d'en voir un peu plus , ou de voir autre chose . C'est qu'entre deux voyages , j'aime bien visiter l'un ou l'autre coin du pays où j'habite .
D'où l'idée d'un carnet de balades .
La plupart des endroits dont je vais parler peuvent être visités en faisant l'aller-retour le même jour , au départ de Bruxelles , que ce soit en transports en commun ou en voiture .
Dans l'ordre chronologique des sujets abordés :
- Le barrage de la Gileppe ( province de Liège) -message 2 , page 1 - Le domaine de La Hulpe ( Brabant wallon ) - message 3 , page 1 - Malines ( province d'Anvers ) message 4 , page 1 - La côte - message 5 , page 1 - Le Westhoek , au départ de La Panne - message 6 , page 1 - Le Zwin, au départ de Knokke - message 7 , page 1 - Lier ( entre Malines et Anvers ) - message 8 , page 1 - Mons (Hainaut) - message 9 , page 1 - La région de Florenville . - message 12 , page 1 - Les Cantons de l'Est - message 13 , page 1 - Dinant - message 18 , page 1 - Le jardin japonais d'Hasselt - message 24 , page 2 - Louvain message 29 , page 2 - Louvain-la-neuve - message 32 , page 2 - Ostende - message 42 (page 3) et message 166 (page 9) - Les floralies de Grand-Bigard . - message 43 , page 3 - Le bois de Halle -message 44 , page 3 - Les pralines - message 54 , page 3 - Charleroi - message 68 , page 4 - Namur - message 92 , page 5 - Le Bois du Cazier ( Marcinelle) - message 95 , page 5 - Les couques et les gozettes - message 96 , page 5 - Liège - message 99 , page 5 - Tournai - message 115 , page 6 . - Audenarde ( Oudenaarde ) - message 121, page 7 - Jardin botanique de Meise - message 124, page 7 . - Tongres ( Tongeren ) - message 125 , page 7 . - Château de Beersel ( Brabant flamand) - message 126, page 7 . - Bruxelles confinée ( messages 150 et 154 , page 8 ) - L'hôpital Notre Dame à la Rose , à Lessines ( messages 161 et 162 , page 9 ) . - Westende ( message 167, page 9) je complète cette liste au fur et à mesure de l'avancement du carnet ...
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,
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.

Preamble
I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).
So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!
We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice. For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.
We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.
Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).
Day 1 – Paris to Lima
Foreword I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.
Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).
Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.
As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.
Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.
Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).
So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!
We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice. For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.
We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.
Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).
Day 1 – Paris to Lima
Foreword I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.
Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).
Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.
As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.
Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.
Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
Preamble: Why La Gomera?
When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”
This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...
Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.
Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!
La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.
Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.
Some practical info: - The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side. - We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €. - The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen. - Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day. - Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.
Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!

And we start the trip with music!
We start the trip with music!
When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”
This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...
Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.
Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!
La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.
Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.
Some practical info: - The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side. - We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €. - The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen. - Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day. - Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.
Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!

And we start the trip with music!
We start the trip with music!
This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rental options kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!
The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan? Not in the end.
The south or not the south? Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or go with the flow? Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela about this destination (the guide has been updated since).
---/---
You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek! (Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)

You’ll find here a post with some practical information.
And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.
---/---
As a supplement, the route track. Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...
From Bishkek to Karakol:

From Karakol to Kochkor:

From Kochkor to Baetov:

From Baetov to Kara-Köl:

From Kara-Köl to Bishkek:


But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rental options kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!
The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan? Not in the end.
The south or not the south? Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or go with the flow? Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela about this destination (the guide has been updated since).
---/---
You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek! (Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)

You’ll find here a post with some practical information.
And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.
---/---
As a supplement, the route track. Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...
From Bishkek to Karakol:

From Karakol to Kochkor:

From Kochkor to Baetov:

From Baetov to Kara-Köl:

From Kara-Köl to Bishkek:


April 11 – Day 1
It was winter, a winter with beautiful weather, A season that only exists in the southwest of America, I remember very well what I told you that morning A month ago... A century ago, an eternity ago... We’ll go... wherever you want, whenever you want...
Well, yeah, back from our adventure in our enchanting American West just a month ago, we’re already taking a bite out of one of its lesser-known competitors. "Flo, if you had to pick just one reason to justify your love for the U.S., what would it be?" The greasy, dripping burgers? No, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by saying it’d be the wide-open spaces... And that’s exactly what our new quest is taking us to—a land on the other side of the globe where the horizon also seems endless, where silence tastes like salty wind and sand, where freedom is measured in kilometers of desert tracks, where the GPS is mostly there to confirm you’re lost in the middle of nowhere... Add to that magic formula the fact that you’ll see more zebras, giraffes, wildebeest, and elephants than people per square kilometer, and you can imagine us setting foot in Southern Africa for the first time, more precisely at the small airport in Windhoek, capital of... of...? Brush up on your geography, damn it! We’re landing in Namibia!!!

To be honest, Namibian landscapes have been flirting with me for ages. So how did I resist this island of temptation for so long? First, the budget. Let’s just say that for the same amount of effort (and kidneys), the bank lets you choose two other adventures almost anywhere else on the planet. Then there were my girls. Yeah, back then, they were too little to dose up on Malarone, the only malaria remedy at the time... Long story short, ten years later, all the planets have aligned. First, I won the Euromillions! Well, almost... Let’s just say my girls are now old enough... not to take Malarone, but to stop following me on all my adventures! Jackpot! "Flo, how about a little two-person caprice, just the two of us, tackling the Namibian tracks?"

As we landed on the runway, first wow effect: The horizon is immense. It’s flat as can be, incredibly flat... So much flat space! Did I mention it was flat?... Looking into the distance, it feels like your gaze could circle the Earth without hitting a single obstacle—until you end up staring at your own backside. "Oh, what a nice view!" Well, it’s the first time I’ve seen my butt from this angle! Touching moment... Sorry, I’m rambling—must be the exhaustion from the three-flight marathon we just powered through via Ethiopia and South Africa... And yet, no time to philosophize about my anatomy. As usual, we want to rack up our first kilometers to be front and center at dawn tomorrow. After wrapping up the tedious Namibian immigration formalities and meeting the 4x4 that’ll be our companion day and night for the next fifteen days, we’re off! We’re not exactly fresh, but we’re ready to tackle the next five hundred kilometers in night mode, cruise control set due south! Just outside Windhoek, the local wildlife—a jackal—welcomes us with a smile: "Welcome to Namibia!" That’s what it said! Honest... Okay, first endless straight road, first flaming sunset, first corrugated dirt track, first Milky Way with zero light pollution... You get it—it’s definitely the day of firsts... First night camping, too, in the big trunk of our Toyota Fortuner parked by the side of the track... The real adventure, the kind that smells under the arms, can finally begin...

It was winter, a winter with beautiful weather, A season that only exists in the southwest of America, I remember very well what I told you that morning A month ago... A century ago, an eternity ago... We’ll go... wherever you want, whenever you want...
Well, yeah, back from our adventure in our enchanting American West just a month ago, we’re already taking a bite out of one of its lesser-known competitors. "Flo, if you had to pick just one reason to justify your love for the U.S., what would it be?" The greasy, dripping burgers? No, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by saying it’d be the wide-open spaces... And that’s exactly what our new quest is taking us to—a land on the other side of the globe where the horizon also seems endless, where silence tastes like salty wind and sand, where freedom is measured in kilometers of desert tracks, where the GPS is mostly there to confirm you’re lost in the middle of nowhere... Add to that magic formula the fact that you’ll see more zebras, giraffes, wildebeest, and elephants than people per square kilometer, and you can imagine us setting foot in Southern Africa for the first time, more precisely at the small airport in Windhoek, capital of... of...? Brush up on your geography, damn it! We’re landing in Namibia!!!

To be honest, Namibian landscapes have been flirting with me for ages. So how did I resist this island of temptation for so long? First, the budget. Let’s just say that for the same amount of effort (and kidneys), the bank lets you choose two other adventures almost anywhere else on the planet. Then there were my girls. Yeah, back then, they were too little to dose up on Malarone, the only malaria remedy at the time... Long story short, ten years later, all the planets have aligned. First, I won the Euromillions! Well, almost... Let’s just say my girls are now old enough... not to take Malarone, but to stop following me on all my adventures! Jackpot! "Flo, how about a little two-person caprice, just the two of us, tackling the Namibian tracks?"

As we landed on the runway, first wow effect: The horizon is immense. It’s flat as can be, incredibly flat... So much flat space! Did I mention it was flat?... Looking into the distance, it feels like your gaze could circle the Earth without hitting a single obstacle—until you end up staring at your own backside. "Oh, what a nice view!" Well, it’s the first time I’ve seen my butt from this angle! Touching moment... Sorry, I’m rambling—must be the exhaustion from the three-flight marathon we just powered through via Ethiopia and South Africa... And yet, no time to philosophize about my anatomy. As usual, we want to rack up our first kilometers to be front and center at dawn tomorrow. After wrapping up the tedious Namibian immigration formalities and meeting the 4x4 that’ll be our companion day and night for the next fifteen days, we’re off! We’re not exactly fresh, but we’re ready to tackle the next five hundred kilometers in night mode, cruise control set due south! Just outside Windhoek, the local wildlife—a jackal—welcomes us with a smile: "Welcome to Namibia!" That’s what it said! Honest... Okay, first endless straight road, first flaming sunset, first corrugated dirt track, first Milky Way with zero light pollution... You get it—it’s definitely the day of firsts... First night camping, too, in the big trunk of our Toyota Fortuner parked by the side of the track... The real adventure, the kind that smells under the arms, can finally begin...

April 5 - Day 1
After as many weeks as I have fingers on my right hand, we're hitting the road again, fully recovered from our pharaonic adventure. Back in France to drop off our daughters (sorry, girls!), this time it's just the two of us, ready to be welcomed by a new destination. They say it offers one of the richest cultural heritages in the world for those willing to put in the effort. It's the land of the ancient Silk Road, where we'll follow a journey steeped in history and discoveries straight out of *One Thousand and One Nights*. A former Soviet bloc region independent only since 1991, we'll be walking in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Alexander the Great, Marco Polo...
Another fun fact about this country: it's strictly forbidden to import porn on your phone. True story. The same goes for painkillers! Unless it's about sodomy—though the two don’t seem connected, that’s just how it is. Don’t ask me why! Anyway, I’m getting off track. Here’s the big question: Where do you think we’ve just landed?... To give you a hint, the locals are known for being incredibly welcoming. No sooner said than done—our first taxi driver, proud to transport French travelers, refused to let us pay for the ride. Great vibes for these two weeks ahead. So, any guesses? Uzbekistan!!!
After as many weeks as I have fingers on my right hand, we're hitting the road again, fully recovered from our pharaonic adventure. Back in France to drop off our daughters (sorry, girls!), this time it's just the two of us, ready to be welcomed by a new destination. They say it offers one of the richest cultural heritages in the world for those willing to put in the effort. It's the land of the ancient Silk Road, where we'll follow a journey steeped in history and discoveries straight out of *One Thousand and One Nights*. A former Soviet bloc region independent only since 1991, we'll be walking in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Alexander the Great, Marco Polo...
Another fun fact about this country: it's strictly forbidden to import porn on your phone. True story. The same goes for painkillers! Unless it's about sodomy—though the two don’t seem connected, that’s just how it is. Don’t ask me why! Anyway, I’m getting off track. Here’s the big question: Where do you think we’ve just landed?... To give you a hint, the locals are known for being incredibly welcoming. No sooner said than done—our first taxi driver, proud to transport French travelers, refused to let us pay for the ride. Great vibes for these two weeks ahead. So, any guesses? Uzbekistan!!!

Hello! 🙂
January 2026 Here we go again for new adventures and the pleasure of sharing them with you here! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me with the preparations, even with some last-minute improvisations just days before departure. Thanks to Montagnard74, Jojoone1, Songsam, Attila, Dennis2, NadegerFERM, and the authors whose travel journals about Laos inspired me (Montagnard74, Muriel18, Mavietongs...).
In this story, written by Richard and illustrated by me, we’ll tell you about the journey of four friends: Catherine, Richard, Nathalie, and Bruno. A reinvented but overall successful trip, filled with discoveries and surprises, the scents of spices and frangipani flowers, (too) spicy food, sunsets, and... one big mess.
January 2026 Here we go again for new adventures and the pleasure of sharing them with you here! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me with the preparations, even with some last-minute improvisations just days before departure. Thanks to Montagnard74, Jojoone1, Songsam, Attila, Dennis2, NadegerFERM, and the authors whose travel journals about Laos inspired me (Montagnard74, Muriel18, Mavietongs...).
In this story, written by Richard and illustrated by me, we’ll tell you about the journey of four friends: Catherine, Richard, Nathalie, and Bruno. A reinvented but overall successful trip, filled with discoveries and surprises, the scents of spices and frangipani flowers, (too) spicy food, sunsets, and... one big mess.

Preamble:
Africa was calling to me, so a year ago, with our usual travel companions, we decided to return to the continent we love so much.
Where to go?
Uganda quickly caught our attention—wildlife we’re used to seeing, plus gorillas and the shoebill we missed in Zambia.
We got in touch with Paul, who’s been mentioned several times on the forum back in September, booked our flight tickets, secured the gorilla permits, and by early October, the most important things were done.
We still had plenty of time to hold our "prep meetings" for the final itinerary.
Three days before departure, I sprained my ankle (my weak spot, as you’ll recall from our Colombia trip). I wasn’t in great spirits, but after a year of waiting, nothing was going to stop me. We’d see how it goes! Off we went for our new adventures
Three days before departure, I sprained my ankle (my weak spot, as you’ll recall from our Colombia trip). I wasn’t in great spirits, but after a year of waiting, nothing was going to stop me. We’d see how it goes! Off we went for our new adventures
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
I’d been wanting to discover Sulawesi for years. But then life happened—COVID, the cost of flight tickets, you name it. Long story short, years went by, but we finally set off as a family for a three-week trip in southern Sulawesi: Rammang Rammang, Rantepao, Sengkang, Bira, and Selayar.
I like to spend a good amount of time in the places I visit, giving myself the chance to really get to know the area and meet locals. So no island-hopping this time—just the south. But when I say "just," it’s not restrictive at all, given how rich this island is in landscapes, little encounters, and magical moments.
Wednesday 07/08 - Thursday 07/09: We left Montpellier for what was supposed to be five flights, though we only took four to start, landing in Jakarta. We picked up our luggage there to catch a flight to Makassar the next day. That’s the only way we could get an affordable ticket (702 €). I won’t bore you with the flight details—there’s not much to say. We arrived at 7 PM and considered heading straight to Makassar that evening. But we opted for a recovery night before taking off again. Good thing we did, because my son’s suitcase was missing... First contact with the locals was a bit stressful—a trip without your luggage isn’t exactly fun. But right away, a woman reassured us: the suitcase was just enjoying some extra time in Singapore. Maybe it was doing some last-minute shopping. Anyway, nothing serious—it was supposed to arrive at 9 AM the next day. That gave us some breathing room since our flight wasn’t until noon. So off we went to our hotel (Days Hotel & Suites) near the airport. It was cheap (40 € for three rooms—my kids are older and need their space), but it wasn’t worth much more. The place had definitely seen better days. But no big deal—we were only there for the night, and... we got to watch France beat Morocco in the World Cup live at 3 AM. That’s what really mattered!
Friday 07/10: In search of the lost suitcase First challenge of the morning: finding our missing suitcase. They sent us to the airport basement, to the staff entrance. We were greeted with smiles, and an airport employee led me through the underground corridors back to the baggage claim. Right on time at 9 AM, the suitcase arrived, just like they’d promised. We were finally complete! Off we went to change terminals, grab a well-deserved meal, and board our fifth flight to Makassar. Little side note: I struggled for a while trying to book domestic flights directly on the airlines’ websites with no luck. Without meaning to advertise (though I guess I am a little), I realized it’d be easier to use sites like tiket.com or Traveloka. That turned out to be a great choice—I even ended up booking hotels through them later in the trip. 12:40 PM: We were on our way to Makassar. First good news: we were the only tourists. Well, the only European tourists on the flight, anyway. No, you’re not dreaming—the bag is full of... potato chip packets. To each their own souvenirs, I guess...

When we arrived in Makassar, a driver was waiting to take us straight to Rammang Rammang: 250,000 IDR (12 €) to our guesthouse (Rammang Rammang House). Forget about meeting people on the bus—we were headed straight to the first stop of our trip, and it was already stunning.
My kids’ guesthouse:
Ours:
View of the little lake:
But not everything is straightforward around here. I wanted to get a local SIM card for internet and calls. I found them expensive at Jakarta’s airport (20 € for 20 GB), so I decided to wait. Well, no luck in Rammang Rammang either. You can’t just buy one from the local shop—you need a Telkomsat store (they have the best coverage). So we’d have to wait for Rantepao to get Wi-Fi... When I say "local shop," I mean the little shack around the corner. No big deal—we’d find one easily in Rantepao for 5 € and 25 GB. So there we were, offline, just the four of us enjoying the amazing view.
Saturday 07/11: Rammang Rammang We woke up early to the sound of wedding music blasting through the village (everyone’s invited!). Off we went to explore the area. A little walking, a little boat ride (shared with a French tourist and a Polish one—yes, there *are* tourists here, just not many; 750,000 IDR for up to 8 people) through a lovely canal, and we discovered the karst site. It was peaceful and beautiful. The river:
The karst site:





Wednesday 07/08 - Thursday 07/09: We left Montpellier for what was supposed to be five flights, though we only took four to start, landing in Jakarta. We picked up our luggage there to catch a flight to Makassar the next day. That’s the only way we could get an affordable ticket (702 €). I won’t bore you with the flight details—there’s not much to say. We arrived at 7 PM and considered heading straight to Makassar that evening. But we opted for a recovery night before taking off again. Good thing we did, because my son’s suitcase was missing... First contact with the locals was a bit stressful—a trip without your luggage isn’t exactly fun. But right away, a woman reassured us: the suitcase was just enjoying some extra time in Singapore. Maybe it was doing some last-minute shopping. Anyway, nothing serious—it was supposed to arrive at 9 AM the next day. That gave us some breathing room since our flight wasn’t until noon. So off we went to our hotel (Days Hotel & Suites) near the airport. It was cheap (40 € for three rooms—my kids are older and need their space), but it wasn’t worth much more. The place had definitely seen better days. But no big deal—we were only there for the night, and... we got to watch France beat Morocco in the World Cup live at 3 AM. That’s what really mattered!
Friday 07/10: In search of the lost suitcase First challenge of the morning: finding our missing suitcase. They sent us to the airport basement, to the staff entrance. We were greeted with smiles, and an airport employee led me through the underground corridors back to the baggage claim. Right on time at 9 AM, the suitcase arrived, just like they’d promised. We were finally complete! Off we went to change terminals, grab a well-deserved meal, and board our fifth flight to Makassar. Little side note: I struggled for a while trying to book domestic flights directly on the airlines’ websites with no luck. Without meaning to advertise (though I guess I am a little), I realized it’d be easier to use sites like tiket.com or Traveloka. That turned out to be a great choice—I even ended up booking hotels through them later in the trip. 12:40 PM: We were on our way to Makassar. First good news: we were the only tourists. Well, the only European tourists on the flight, anyway. No, you’re not dreaming—the bag is full of... potato chip packets. To each their own souvenirs, I guess...

When we arrived in Makassar, a driver was waiting to take us straight to Rammang Rammang: 250,000 IDR (12 €) to our guesthouse (Rammang Rammang House). Forget about meeting people on the bus—we were headed straight to the first stop of our trip, and it was already stunning.
My kids’ guesthouse:

Ours:

View of the little lake:

But not everything is straightforward around here. I wanted to get a local SIM card for internet and calls. I found them expensive at Jakarta’s airport (20 € for 20 GB), so I decided to wait. Well, no luck in Rammang Rammang either. You can’t just buy one from the local shop—you need a Telkomsat store (they have the best coverage). So we’d have to wait for Rantepao to get Wi-Fi... When I say "local shop," I mean the little shack around the corner. No big deal—we’d find one easily in Rantepao for 5 € and 25 GB. So there we were, offline, just the four of us enjoying the amazing view.
Saturday 07/11: Rammang Rammang We woke up early to the sound of wedding music blasting through the village (everyone’s invited!). Off we went to explore the area. A little walking, a little boat ride (shared with a French tourist and a Polish one—yes, there *are* tourists here, just not many; 750,000 IDR for up to 8 people) through a lovely canal, and we discovered the karst site. It was peaceful and beautiful. The river:
The karst site:





I hesitated about writing this travel journal...
This summer, we only did the classics (the 3 northern parks and Zanzibar) and let a local agency take care of everything from start to finish.
No craziness, no risks, no sleeping under the stars, no self-drive, no venturing off the beaten path, no incidents, and not even any delays in the pre-planned itinerary...
But don’t think we were disappointed! The whole family (there were 6 of us) came back with smiles and memories of great moments spent together. So, if you're looking for a "classic" way to discover Tanzania, this is the place to be.
Our 2-week itinerary: - Arusha (1 night upon arrival) - Tarangire (1 night) - Ngorongoro (2 nights in Karatu then Irmisigiyo) - Serengeti (3 nights in Robanda, Togoro Plains, and Seronera) - Zanzibar Stone Town (1 night) - Zanzibar Matemwe (3 nights) - Zanzibar Jambiani (3 nights)
Hakuna matata!

No craziness, no risks, no sleeping under the stars, no self-drive, no venturing off the beaten path, no incidents, and not even any delays in the pre-planned itinerary...
But don’t think we were disappointed! The whole family (there were 6 of us) came back with smiles and memories of great moments spent together. So, if you're looking for a "classic" way to discover Tanzania, this is the place to be.
Our 2-week itinerary: - Arusha (1 night upon arrival) - Tarangire (1 night) - Ngorongoro (2 nights in Karatu then Irmisigiyo) - Serengeti (3 nights in Robanda, Togoro Plains, and Seronera) - Zanzibar Stone Town (1 night) - Zanzibar Matemwe (3 nights) - Zanzibar Jambiani (3 nights)
Hakuna matata!

Okay, Palermo—we know it. We go there to marvel at the architectural wonders born from the Arab-Norman-Byzantine-Gothic mix. And rightly so. We also go to treat our taste buds to all kinds of delights, both savory and sweet. Again, rightly so. We go to succumb to the charms of Palermo’s women, their sun-kissed skin glowing with golden highlights. Still, rightly so. And all while fantasizing about a mafia we’ll never actually see. Anyway.
But you’ll also find street art everywhere, even in the historic center. Sometimes, you just need to step a few meters away from the main tourist highways like Cassaro, Via Maqueda, or the main arteries of the Ballarò, Capo, or Vucciria markets to stumble upon some amazing murals. Duck into one or two slightly grimy alleys, weaving past trash and crumbling walls, and you’ll find real gems.
For example, just 50 meters south of the main artery of the Mercato del Capo, there’s a great spot with dozens of murals in a tiny neighborhood of run-down mini-houses. You’ll find plenty more south of the Mercato di Ballarò, in the Albergheria (the grittier side, not the one near Cassaro). There’s some in Ballarò itself too, but it’s hard to spot when the market’s in full swing with stalls everywhere. La Kalsa isn’t left out either, nor is Vucciria—just step away from the restaurant-packed streets.
Here are a few examples that really caught my eye.
(In the heart of Albergheria, on a street every visitor walks down—lovely message from an unidentified artist)
But you’ll also find street art everywhere, even in the historic center. Sometimes, you just need to step a few meters away from the main tourist highways like Cassaro, Via Maqueda, or the main arteries of the Ballarò, Capo, or Vucciria markets to stumble upon some amazing murals. Duck into one or two slightly grimy alleys, weaving past trash and crumbling walls, and you’ll find real gems.
For example, just 50 meters south of the main artery of the Mercato del Capo, there’s a great spot with dozens of murals in a tiny neighborhood of run-down mini-houses. You’ll find plenty more south of the Mercato di Ballarò, in the Albergheria (the grittier side, not the one near Cassaro). There’s some in Ballarò itself too, but it’s hard to spot when the market’s in full swing with stalls everywhere. La Kalsa isn’t left out either, nor is Vucciria—just step away from the restaurant-packed streets.
Here are a few examples that really caught my eye.
(In the heart of Albergheria, on a street every visitor walks down—lovely message from an unidentified artist)We landed in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, and headed straight to Kasane in Botswana to pick up our car.
Our vehicle is a 4x4 because in Zambia, it's practically impossible to use anything else, especially in the national parks. I’ve already had the pleasure of visiting South Luangwa National Park—it’s one of the reasons for this trip, the main one being to travel in Africa with one of my sons.
First stop: Livingstone on the banks of the Zambezi River. Along the way, we discovered a lovely restaurant at Socrates with a super-friendly owner (we’ll actually stop there again on our way back). We spent our first night in the rooftop tent after a stunning sunset, accompanied by the grunting of hippos in the river.
The next day, we set off early, heading to Kafue NP. In fact, we’ll always leave early—waking up between 5:00 and 5:30 AM and hitting the road an hour later. Kafue is a lesser-known park, mostly forested, and the animals are skittish because they’re not used to human presence. We crossed the park from south to north and came across various antelopes. Near Lake Itezhi-Tezhi, there are plains where wildlife is easier to spot.
After Kafue, we headed to South Luangwa. This journey requires stops in Mumbwa and Petauke. Two pleasant stops where we found lodges (a nice change from the rooftop tent) at affordable prices and met welcoming people.
For me, South Luangwa is Zambia’s most beautiful park—the river is stunning, the landscapes are gorgeous, and there’s a wide variety of wildlife, including, of course, big cats. A tip for those, like us, who aren’t with a guide: if you’re staying near the park for several days, don’t hesitate to do a "game drive" to scout out where the animals are so you can return the next day with your own vehicle. Of course, in the dry season, you’ll want to focus on waterholes to see the animals—and you’ll need a bit of luck too. The elephant population is growing, and we were lucky enough to see around sixty elephants crossing the Luangwa at dawn, spread across several groups. South Luangwa is the westernmost point of our trip, and we’re now heading east to Lower Zambezi.
Lower Zambezi is Zambia’s side of Mana Pools on the Zimbabwe side. We took a boat ride on the Zambezi to see elephants, hippos, crocodiles, and a multitude of birds living along the water and on the river’s islands. The sunset there is also magnificent.
To explore the park, we followed the waterways parallel to the Zambezi, mostly on the western side (see our route). Lower Zambezi is the last park we visit, and the final leg of our trip will be Victoria Falls.
Victoria Falls—or Mosi-Oa-Tunya ("The Smoke That Thunders")—are truly impressive, even during the dry season. We saw the falls from both countries: in Zambia for the overall view and the bridge that serves as the border, and in Zimbabwe to get as close as possible to the most spectacular parts of the falls.
This marks the end of our trip, which, despite a blown tire on the road, went off without any major issues. Zambia is a beautiful country that immerses you in wild, still-preserved nature.
From Southern Shikoku, between land and sea, to the blue waters of Miyakojima and finally Tokyo’s megacity
Hi everyone,
I have to admit, I really hesitated before deciding to write this travel journal... Writing one takes a lot of time and energy, and since this is my 4th trip, I wondered if it would actually interest anyone other than myself (both for the discovery and the writing). But after a few "Are you going to write a journal?" requests and especially the renewed pleasure from reading other travelers’ travel journals about Japan or elsewhere on this forum or elsewhere, I’ve decided to share this 4th installment in the Land of the Rising Sun here.
The itinerary: 27 full days, from late May to late June 2025, right in the middle of the rainy season, including:
-->13 days in Shikoku, from Kochi (Kochi Prefecture) to Matsuyama (Ehime Prefecture)

-->7 days in Miyakojima (Okinawa Prefecture)

-->7 days in Tokyo

The trip was decided on fairly last-minute this year, as usual.
I regularly check flight prices to track fluctuations for this destination, even without concrete plans. Finding a slightly cheaper direct flight (900 €) than what I’d seen in previous months (around 1,200–1,400 € on average) for a Paris-Tokyo route with Japanese airline ANA was too tempting to resist the urge to return to this enchanting country. After long hesitations between exploring the San’in region (Matsue, Tottori, Yamaguchi) and southern Shikoku, the decision was made—I took the plunge! The tickets are booked: Paris to Kochi with a layover in Tokyo, all with ANA, the airline I’d been dreaming of... for 1,120 € per person. Okay, it’s not cheap, but it’s still better than in 2023.
We leave in 2 weeks!! Now it’s just a matter of getting everything ready!
Intense work ahead in these 2 weeks to:
finalize a more precise itinerary and reach an agreement—yep, because even though we both love Japan, our preferences differ slightly, and we have to choose between exploring new places or taking time to revisit beloved spots... decide how much time to spend in each selected area without rushing while still exploring research places that might interest us and watch videos about Japan book accommodations: yes, it’s possible to do this on the spot as we go, but last year, we noticed that last-minute options were pretty expensive, so we’re booking ahead—even if it means keeping a few options open while we decide or see if better deals pop up later reserve rental cars order yen check the weather regularly and wonder if choosing the *tsuyu* (rainy season) was really a good idea—and whether we’ll be stuck in non-stop rain???
What a tough job, right? Traveling to Japan for a month—such a hard life! Despite this being my 4th trip, the excitement is just as intense as the first time.
The only small downside is that when we booked the flight tickets, there were only a few seats left, so we’re only sitting together on the international return flight. Plus, on the outbound flight, we’ve got the middle seats. Another lingering question: what French-language films will be available? According to the internet, the selection seems limited. Oh well, these are just minor details—it’s almost time to fly!
PS: I’ll be posting slowly and irregularly... so for those interested, be patient or maybe set an alert...
Hi everyone,
I have to admit, I really hesitated before deciding to write this travel journal... Writing one takes a lot of time and energy, and since this is my 4th trip, I wondered if it would actually interest anyone other than myself (both for the discovery and the writing). But after a few "Are you going to write a journal?" requests and especially the renewed pleasure from reading other travelers’ travel journals about Japan or elsewhere on this forum or elsewhere, I’ve decided to share this 4th installment in the Land of the Rising Sun here.
The itinerary: 27 full days, from late May to late June 2025, right in the middle of the rainy season, including:
-->13 days in Shikoku, from Kochi (Kochi Prefecture) to Matsuyama (Ehime Prefecture)

-->7 days in Miyakojima (Okinawa Prefecture)

-->7 days in Tokyo

The trip was decided on fairly last-minute this year, as usual.
I regularly check flight prices to track fluctuations for this destination, even without concrete plans. Finding a slightly cheaper direct flight (900 €) than what I’d seen in previous months (around 1,200–1,400 € on average) for a Paris-Tokyo route with Japanese airline ANA was too tempting to resist the urge to return to this enchanting country. After long hesitations between exploring the San’in region (Matsue, Tottori, Yamaguchi) and southern Shikoku, the decision was made—I took the plunge! The tickets are booked: Paris to Kochi with a layover in Tokyo, all with ANA, the airline I’d been dreaming of... for 1,120 € per person. Okay, it’s not cheap, but it’s still better than in 2023.
We leave in 2 weeks!! Now it’s just a matter of getting everything ready!
Intense work ahead in these 2 weeks to:
finalize a more precise itinerary and reach an agreement—yep, because even though we both love Japan, our preferences differ slightly, and we have to choose between exploring new places or taking time to revisit beloved spots... decide how much time to spend in each selected area without rushing while still exploring research places that might interest us and watch videos about Japan book accommodations: yes, it’s possible to do this on the spot as we go, but last year, we noticed that last-minute options were pretty expensive, so we’re booking ahead—even if it means keeping a few options open while we decide or see if better deals pop up later reserve rental cars order yen check the weather regularly and wonder if choosing the *tsuyu* (rainy season) was really a good idea—and whether we’ll be stuck in non-stop rain???
What a tough job, right? Traveling to Japan for a month—such a hard life! Despite this being my 4th trip, the excitement is just as intense as the first time.
The only small downside is that when we booked the flight tickets, there were only a few seats left, so we’re only sitting together on the international return flight. Plus, on the outbound flight, we’ve got the middle seats. Another lingering question: what French-language films will be available? According to the internet, the selection seems limited. Oh well, these are just minor details—it’s almost time to fly!
PS: I’ll be posting slowly and irregularly... so for those interested, be patient or maybe set an alert...
Before Our Departure
Preparing for this trip started 9 months before our departure in June. For those planning a similar itinerary, it’s important to book accommodations well in advance, especially in the Okavango and Savuti campsites—otherwise, you might not find any availability.
Introduction After visiting Zambia three years ago and Namibia and western Botswana a year and a half ago, this year we chose Zimbabwe (Hwange NP) and the northern half of Botswana. Our flight from Paris was to Victoria Falls with Ethiopian Airlines, with a layover in Addis Ababa. We rented a 4x4 from Bushlore in Kasane, complete with two rooftop tents since there are four of us on this adventure. Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4 and, most importantly, gave us a rundown of the vehicle and its equipment. Pay close attention to what they tell you—it could be crucial if something goes wrong, as it did for us during the trip.
Our Itinerary We arrived on June 12th at noon. At Victoria Falls Airport, we got our double-entry visa right away—I’d already pre-booked it online on the site https://www.evisa.gov.zw/. Since our vehicle was in Botswana, we had to cross the border from Victoria Falls into Botswana for the first time. The next morning, Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4. After completing the formalities, we headed toward Zimbabwe and the town of Victoria Falls. We woke up early the next morning to be at Victoria Falls at sunrise. The scenery was stunning, but since it was the start of the dry season, the Zambezi was still high, so the falls had a strong flow. This made it hard to fully appreciate their beauty. In the early afternoon, we left for Hwange NP, where we stayed for 4 days. Two days at Gwango campsite near Dete, followed by two days at Robins Camp. We expected to see more animals at Robins, but that wasn’t the case. In Hwange, we didn’t spot any predators, but we did see plenty of mammals (buffalo, elephants, giraffes, zebras, and antelopes). After a few days in Zimbabwe, we crossed back into Botswana at Pandamatenga. We stopped at Nata Lodge for a good night’s rest—driving on the dirt roads is exhausting. We left Nata and headed toward Nxai Pan. The road was sandy but manageable. We made a small detour to admire some beautiful baobabs at "Baines Baobabs." Then we continued to our campsite, Nxai Pan South Camp. Keep in mind that many campsites in Botswana aren’t fenced (except for the shower/toilet areas), so animals can roam freely within the camp. Take precautions, especially after dark. After our stop in Nxai Pan, we headed to Maun. We decided to break our journey in Maun before heading to Moremi and the Okavango Delta for three reasons: first, we needed to stock up on supplies and fuel for the next 5 days; second, our fridge had broken (luckily, Bushlore has a branch in Maun); and third, the drive from Nxai to our camp in Xakanaxa in the delta would’ve taken too long. I always avoid driving after dark. We arrived at our Xakanaxa camp on June 21st in the early afternoon. Not wanting to waste time, we booked a boat ride on the Okavango Delta, leaving at 4:00 PM for a 2-hour sunset cruise. For those interested, to the right of the Xakanaxa X1 site, there’s a sign for boat rides. The organizer is very professional and offers prices that are nothing like those of the lodges. It was a beautiful ride through the delta with a stunning sunset. Being on a boat is much more relaxing than driving on the dirt roads. That didn’t stop us from doing self-drive safaris the next morning and late afternoon, though.
Then came the time to leave the delta and head toward Savuti, a much drier region. And that’s when the toughest part of our trip began. First, we decided to go up via Khwai. The rainy season was over, but the area was still marshy. We had to cross a few small water patches, testing the depth to make sure we could get through. Luckily, a sign on the road pointed us toward a drier route. We reached Khwai without any issues, but then we made a major mistake. Instead of taking the main track toward Mababe Gate to reach Savuti Camp, we took a straight path north and then a right turn to get to our camp. Bad call—we got stuck in the sand, with one rear wheel buried halfway and a front wheel off the ground. We were genuinely scared we wouldn’t get out, especially since we were on a deserted track, 20 kilometers from our destination, with night falling in two hours. This is where paying attention to the vehicle instructions really paid off—we had to use the jack to get out of the mess. The result: we arrived at Savuti campsite just before dark (Distance: 146.3 km, Duration: 9 hours, 56 minutes, and 3 seconds, Average speed: 14.7 km/h, tracked with Osmand). At reception, the staff couldn’t understand how we’d gotten there—we hadn’t passed through any of Savuti’s reserve entry gates.
The next morning, no one felt like driving, so we did a game drive with a guide. I don’t know if it was some kind of reward, but the outing was amazing. We saw three lions and, best of all, a pack of African wild dogs that we had time to admire and photograph. The next day, we did a short self-drive and found one of the lions from the day before drinking at a waterhole. That was the end of our Savuti adventure.
Now we’re heading to Kasane. We returned our vehicle and settled in for our last two nights there. The next morning, since we no longer had a car, we decided to do one last early-morning game drive in Chobe NP. It turned out great—we followed two brother lions and saw plenty of other mammals. The only downside of Chobe is the number of tourists, which was a change from the other parks we’d visited. That said, we’re tourists too, so... In the evening, we took one last boat ride on the Chobe River to end on a high note with a beautiful sunset.
After a good night’s sleep and plenty of wonderful memories, landscapes, animals, and emotions, it was time to leave. We left early in the morning with the same taxi company as before to cross the border into Zimbabwe one last time and head to the airport, where we took off to return to France.
Introduction After visiting Zambia three years ago and Namibia and western Botswana a year and a half ago, this year we chose Zimbabwe (Hwange NP) and the northern half of Botswana. Our flight from Paris was to Victoria Falls with Ethiopian Airlines, with a layover in Addis Ababa. We rented a 4x4 from Bushlore in Kasane, complete with two rooftop tents since there are four of us on this adventure. Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4 and, most importantly, gave us a rundown of the vehicle and its equipment. Pay close attention to what they tell you—it could be crucial if something goes wrong, as it did for us during the trip.
Our Itinerary We arrived on June 12th at noon. At Victoria Falls Airport, we got our double-entry visa right away—I’d already pre-booked it online on the site https://www.evisa.gov.zw/. Since our vehicle was in Botswana, we had to cross the border from Victoria Falls into Botswana for the first time. The next morning, Bushlore picked us up from our guesthouse to collect our 4x4. After completing the formalities, we headed toward Zimbabwe and the town of Victoria Falls. We woke up early the next morning to be at Victoria Falls at sunrise. The scenery was stunning, but since it was the start of the dry season, the Zambezi was still high, so the falls had a strong flow. This made it hard to fully appreciate their beauty. In the early afternoon, we left for Hwange NP, where we stayed for 4 days. Two days at Gwango campsite near Dete, followed by two days at Robins Camp. We expected to see more animals at Robins, but that wasn’t the case. In Hwange, we didn’t spot any predators, but we did see plenty of mammals (buffalo, elephants, giraffes, zebras, and antelopes). After a few days in Zimbabwe, we crossed back into Botswana at Pandamatenga. We stopped at Nata Lodge for a good night’s rest—driving on the dirt roads is exhausting. We left Nata and headed toward Nxai Pan. The road was sandy but manageable. We made a small detour to admire some beautiful baobabs at "Baines Baobabs." Then we continued to our campsite, Nxai Pan South Camp. Keep in mind that many campsites in Botswana aren’t fenced (except for the shower/toilet areas), so animals can roam freely within the camp. Take precautions, especially after dark. After our stop in Nxai Pan, we headed to Maun. We decided to break our journey in Maun before heading to Moremi and the Okavango Delta for three reasons: first, we needed to stock up on supplies and fuel for the next 5 days; second, our fridge had broken (luckily, Bushlore has a branch in Maun); and third, the drive from Nxai to our camp in Xakanaxa in the delta would’ve taken too long. I always avoid driving after dark. We arrived at our Xakanaxa camp on June 21st in the early afternoon. Not wanting to waste time, we booked a boat ride on the Okavango Delta, leaving at 4:00 PM for a 2-hour sunset cruise. For those interested, to the right of the Xakanaxa X1 site, there’s a sign for boat rides. The organizer is very professional and offers prices that are nothing like those of the lodges. It was a beautiful ride through the delta with a stunning sunset. Being on a boat is much more relaxing than driving on the dirt roads. That didn’t stop us from doing self-drive safaris the next morning and late afternoon, though.
Then came the time to leave the delta and head toward Savuti, a much drier region. And that’s when the toughest part of our trip began. First, we decided to go up via Khwai. The rainy season was over, but the area was still marshy. We had to cross a few small water patches, testing the depth to make sure we could get through. Luckily, a sign on the road pointed us toward a drier route. We reached Khwai without any issues, but then we made a major mistake. Instead of taking the main track toward Mababe Gate to reach Savuti Camp, we took a straight path north and then a right turn to get to our camp. Bad call—we got stuck in the sand, with one rear wheel buried halfway and a front wheel off the ground. We were genuinely scared we wouldn’t get out, especially since we were on a deserted track, 20 kilometers from our destination, with night falling in two hours. This is where paying attention to the vehicle instructions really paid off—we had to use the jack to get out of the mess. The result: we arrived at Savuti campsite just before dark (Distance: 146.3 km, Duration: 9 hours, 56 minutes, and 3 seconds, Average speed: 14.7 km/h, tracked with Osmand). At reception, the staff couldn’t understand how we’d gotten there—we hadn’t passed through any of Savuti’s reserve entry gates.
The next morning, no one felt like driving, so we did a game drive with a guide. I don’t know if it was some kind of reward, but the outing was amazing. We saw three lions and, best of all, a pack of African wild dogs that we had time to admire and photograph. The next day, we did a short self-drive and found one of the lions from the day before drinking at a waterhole. That was the end of our Savuti adventure.
Now we’re heading to Kasane. We returned our vehicle and settled in for our last two nights there. The next morning, since we no longer had a car, we decided to do one last early-morning game drive in Chobe NP. It turned out great—we followed two brother lions and saw plenty of other mammals. The only downside of Chobe is the number of tourists, which was a change from the other parks we’d visited. That said, we’re tourists too, so... In the evening, we took one last boat ride on the Chobe River to end on a high note with a beautiful sunset.
After a good night’s sleep and plenty of wonderful memories, landscapes, animals, and emotions, it was time to leave. We left early in the morning with the same taxi company as before to cross the border into Zimbabwe one last time and head to the airport, where we took off to return to France.
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?


Hello everyone!
This travel journal aims to help future travelers (well, I hope so!), since there’s so little information available about this remote archipelago. Big thanks to Lolodesiles and Ayis for answering my questions while I planned this trip!

Context This is our fourth trip to Indonesia as a couple—after Java-Bali in 2011, Flores-Komodo in 2013, and Sulawesi in 2016—each time for three weeks. It’s also our tenth trip to Southeast Asia overall.
We’re traveling like we have in previous years: with a rough itinerary that often changes based on who we meet, tips from other travelers, how tired we are, or what we’re feeling in the moment. In the Moluccas, it’ll change constantly, mostly depending on transportation.
Our only accommodation booking: the first few nights in Ambon when we arrive.
Planned route (to be refined on the spot): Ambon - Banda Islands - Lease Islands - Ternate - Tidore - Halmahera (between Sofifi and Tobelo) - Morotai and the neighboring unnamed archipelago.
Flights: Lyon-Paris-Singapore on Air France (428 € round-trip), with good meals, champagne, and wine (we like our little comforts when going on vacation 😏). Then Singapore-Jakarta-Ambon on Air Asia and Garuda. Return flight: Ternate-Jakarta-Singapore on Lion Air, with a 3-day stopover in Singapore before heading home.
Episode 1: Ambon to Banda Our guesthouse, booked two days before departure, is 45 minutes from Ambon Airport, near Natsepa Beach (northeast of Leihitu). It’s a pretty average beach—quiet on weekdays but packed on Sundays (we saw the difference). It’s lined with warungs. This rainy day helps us readjust to the atmosphere of this country we love so much.
Our “Solim Guesthouse” is a lovely house with a living/dining room and garden, costing 15 € per night for two, including a hearty breakfast. Dinner is at Gaba Gaba, a great restaurant just a short walk away, right by the water, recommended by our host. Fun fact: it’s in the Lonely Planet, and it might be the only LP-listed spot in the Moluccas that actually matches the description (the others either don’t exist or have nothing to do with what’s advertised 😠).
For the next two days, the super-friendly owner lends us his scooter. We set off to explore the coastal villages in northern Leihitu (the western part of Ambon Island, which has a weird shape).
Laundry and trucks washed in the same stream.

Liang Beach, described as the island’s most beautiful, is almost gone (climate change or something else?), but the colors are magical.
We continue 25 km toward a snorkeling spot our host recommended, taking a gorgeous, deserted little road through tiny villages in clove plantations (oh, those unforgettable scents!), stunning coves, and dense forest.

We’re greeted dozens of times with “Hello Mister”—a daily routine in the Moluccas. Every time we stop, we pose for photos to be saved on locals’ smartphones. They don’t see tourists often.

We ask for directions to the snorkeling spot (not easy—we only know basic Indonesian like *Selamat pagi*, *siang*, *sore*, and other polite phrases). Not many people know where it is (especially since we never know which village we’re in), but we eventually reach a small village that seems to be the right place. 🙂

We ask a local to take us there by boat (it’s not reachable by land).

The spot is at most 100 meters long, but the coral is in good condition (apparently not dynamited by fishermen, unlike in other parts of this beautiful country where fishing methods are destructive and nature pays the price 😠). The fish are plentiful and diverse. It’s a great start before heading to Banda. We’re happy to have the place to ourselves… though we don’t yet realize we won’t see a single tourist for the rest of the trip!
After two days of rest, we head to Tulehu Port in the morning, aiming for the Banda Islands. We know the journey is often tricky: the Pelni ferry runs twice a month but doesn’t match our dates, the 10-seat Suzi Air plane is always full (you can’t book—you have to show up on Mondays and Fridays), and it’s often canceled due to weather. So we opt for the Tuesday speedboat (which also gets canceled if there are waves or wind), with the next one on Saturday. We’re used to Indonesian ports—crowded, rusty boats, no English speakers—but we still feel lost. When I ask about the speedboat to Bandaneira, people gesture wildly, someone takes me to the “harbor office,” then tells me there’s no boat, others try to sell me tickets, and some just say, “No boat.”

Luckily, an English-speaking local approaches us and confirms the speedboat is broken. The next one will be Saturday *if* it’s fixed—otherwise, even later. 🤪 😠 We’re crushed. We came here for the Banda Islands… 🙁 We decide waiting five days for a maybe-boat isn’t an option, so we decide to head straight to North Moluccas, which was planned for later. We’re so disappointed we don’t even want to stay in the area. The Lease Islands don’t appeal to us despite what we’ve read, and Seram would deserve its own trip with its remote mountain tribes. Huge disappointment—we’d been dreaming of Banda for months, with its incredible drop-offs like Bunaken, its islands covered in nutmeg trees, etc. I’d read that Banda is in the world’s top 5, alongside Bunaken (amazing—we went in 2016), Komodo (incredible—we went in 2013), Sipadan, and another spot I’ve forgotten.
We take a taxi back to Ambon (45 minutes) to a travel agency to buy plane tickets to Ternate. There’s a daily ATR72 flight at noon—perfect timing. Ambon is the capital of South Moluccas (or Central, depending on who you ask!) with 300,000 people. The city doesn’t seem unpleasant, but we don’t stop. On the plane, there are only about ten passengers for 72 seats. The flight attendants are stunning, as always with Wings Air—clearly, they’re hired for their looks. 😊

Stopover in Bacan—a runway in the middle of coconut trees serving a tiny town—then we fly over countless volcanoes, the last one towering over Ternate.
Next episode coming soon: Ternate.
This travel journal aims to help future travelers (well, I hope so!), since there’s so little information available about this remote archipelago. Big thanks to Lolodesiles and Ayis for answering my questions while I planned this trip!

Context This is our fourth trip to Indonesia as a couple—after Java-Bali in 2011, Flores-Komodo in 2013, and Sulawesi in 2016—each time for three weeks. It’s also our tenth trip to Southeast Asia overall.
We’re traveling like we have in previous years: with a rough itinerary that often changes based on who we meet, tips from other travelers, how tired we are, or what we’re feeling in the moment. In the Moluccas, it’ll change constantly, mostly depending on transportation.
Our only accommodation booking: the first few nights in Ambon when we arrive.
Planned route (to be refined on the spot): Ambon - Banda Islands - Lease Islands - Ternate - Tidore - Halmahera (between Sofifi and Tobelo) - Morotai and the neighboring unnamed archipelago.
Flights: Lyon-Paris-Singapore on Air France (428 € round-trip), with good meals, champagne, and wine (we like our little comforts when going on vacation 😏). Then Singapore-Jakarta-Ambon on Air Asia and Garuda. Return flight: Ternate-Jakarta-Singapore on Lion Air, with a 3-day stopover in Singapore before heading home.
Episode 1: Ambon to Banda Our guesthouse, booked two days before departure, is 45 minutes from Ambon Airport, near Natsepa Beach (northeast of Leihitu). It’s a pretty average beach—quiet on weekdays but packed on Sundays (we saw the difference). It’s lined with warungs. This rainy day helps us readjust to the atmosphere of this country we love so much.

Our “Solim Guesthouse” is a lovely house with a living/dining room and garden, costing 15 € per night for two, including a hearty breakfast. Dinner is at Gaba Gaba, a great restaurant just a short walk away, right by the water, recommended by our host. Fun fact: it’s in the Lonely Planet, and it might be the only LP-listed spot in the Moluccas that actually matches the description (the others either don’t exist or have nothing to do with what’s advertised 😠).

For the next two days, the super-friendly owner lends us his scooter. We set off to explore the coastal villages in northern Leihitu (the western part of Ambon Island, which has a weird shape).
Laundry and trucks washed in the same stream.

Liang Beach, described as the island’s most beautiful, is almost gone (climate change or something else?), but the colors are magical.

We continue 25 km toward a snorkeling spot our host recommended, taking a gorgeous, deserted little road through tiny villages in clove plantations (oh, those unforgettable scents!), stunning coves, and dense forest.

We’re greeted dozens of times with “Hello Mister”—a daily routine in the Moluccas. Every time we stop, we pose for photos to be saved on locals’ smartphones. They don’t see tourists often.
We ask for directions to the snorkeling spot (not easy—we only know basic Indonesian like *Selamat pagi*, *siang*, *sore*, and other polite phrases). Not many people know where it is (especially since we never know which village we’re in), but we eventually reach a small village that seems to be the right place. 🙂

We ask a local to take us there by boat (it’s not reachable by land).

The spot is at most 100 meters long, but the coral is in good condition (apparently not dynamited by fishermen, unlike in other parts of this beautiful country where fishing methods are destructive and nature pays the price 😠). The fish are plentiful and diverse. It’s a great start before heading to Banda. We’re happy to have the place to ourselves… though we don’t yet realize we won’t see a single tourist for the rest of the trip!
After two days of rest, we head to Tulehu Port in the morning, aiming for the Banda Islands. We know the journey is often tricky: the Pelni ferry runs twice a month but doesn’t match our dates, the 10-seat Suzi Air plane is always full (you can’t book—you have to show up on Mondays and Fridays), and it’s often canceled due to weather. So we opt for the Tuesday speedboat (which also gets canceled if there are waves or wind), with the next one on Saturday. We’re used to Indonesian ports—crowded, rusty boats, no English speakers—but we still feel lost. When I ask about the speedboat to Bandaneira, people gesture wildly, someone takes me to the “harbor office,” then tells me there’s no boat, others try to sell me tickets, and some just say, “No boat.”

Luckily, an English-speaking local approaches us and confirms the speedboat is broken. The next one will be Saturday *if* it’s fixed—otherwise, even later. 🤪 😠 We’re crushed. We came here for the Banda Islands… 🙁 We decide waiting five days for a maybe-boat isn’t an option, so we decide to head straight to North Moluccas, which was planned for later. We’re so disappointed we don’t even want to stay in the area. The Lease Islands don’t appeal to us despite what we’ve read, and Seram would deserve its own trip with its remote mountain tribes. Huge disappointment—we’d been dreaming of Banda for months, with its incredible drop-offs like Bunaken, its islands covered in nutmeg trees, etc. I’d read that Banda is in the world’s top 5, alongside Bunaken (amazing—we went in 2016), Komodo (incredible—we went in 2013), Sipadan, and another spot I’ve forgotten.
We take a taxi back to Ambon (45 minutes) to a travel agency to buy plane tickets to Ternate. There’s a daily ATR72 flight at noon—perfect timing. Ambon is the capital of South Moluccas (or Central, depending on who you ask!) with 300,000 people. The city doesn’t seem unpleasant, but we don’t stop. On the plane, there are only about ten passengers for 72 seats. The flight attendants are stunning, as always with Wings Air—clearly, they’re hired for their looks. 😊

Stopover in Bacan—a runway in the middle of coconut trees serving a tiny town—then we fly over countless volcanoes, the last one towering over Ternate.
Next episode coming soon: Ternate.
Bonjour,
De retour sur le forum - et première rédaction d'un espèce de carnet de retour de notre 4ème voyage en Indo.
Contexte : une trentaine de jours, en scooter et en duo, sur Florès (et une petite incursion dans l'archipel de Solor, plus précisément à Lembata (chut, faut pas trop en parler !!!), qui donne envie d'en faire beaucoup plus là bas malgré les infrastructures sporadiques), en partie dans des destinations déjà bien connues du forum (la classique Ruteng / Bajawa / Riung / Moni voir baie de Maumere) ... et qui ne parlera pas du PN de Komodo ou de Wae Rebo, puisque nous n'y sommes pas allés 🏴☠️.
Texte en anglais (issu d'une autre plateforme). Sans nul doute, des traducteurs intelligents ou pas marcheront à merveille en cas d'anglophobie 🤪.
Disponible à toute fin utile pour des détails ou infos.
Equippement : Yam' Nmax 155 ; 2x saccoches cavalières (25L) + sac de selle (30L) + saccoche tunnel (15L pour le matos photo) ; casques et vêtements d'enduro amenés depuis la France.
Itinéraire : boucle depuis Labuan bajo jusqu'à Pulau Lembata ; juillet-août 2026
Road conditions graded from A (excellent) to D (very bad, at least for a Scooter… a CRF/KLX or even honda ADV would do better on that) D1 : Labuan Bajo – Reok via Ranggoe, Rego & Tagol (130km ; 5hrs). Section LBajo – Rego (90 km ; B) is quite good tarmac, despite a lot of elevation with many small valleys and passes. Rego – Tagol (10km ; D) is a stone road (not gravel), some ascents & very poor condition ; necessary to lower tyre pressure. Tagol – Reok port (22km, quality depends considerably from D to B). Reok port – Towncenter : B. Night @Iffah Homestay (100k for fan room, mandi attached, no breakfast), simple but clean. Notes : path to danau Sano Limbung was closed ; access to Tiwu Pai & Wae Kuli (waterfalls) not permitted in july 2026. D2 : Reok – Riung via Pota (105km ; 3h-3h30). The road is very narrow in some part, thanks to the uncut bushes (lowering visibility hence extra caution as animals/people can suddenly appear in a turn…) but generally good condition except many eroded sections and some unpaved ones. Grade C/B. 2 nights @Mentos (285k for AC room) D3 : Boat tour in Riung (booked directly with a captain, 800k for two for private boat incl. lunch and NP fees) + sunset from Watu Mitong Riung (should not be missed). D4 : Riung – Muku Saki via Mbay (around 100km ; 3h30). Quality varies from A in the vicinity of Mbay to eroded sections (C) in secluded places. Night @Sao Paolo Homestay (250k for fan room with mandi, maybe overpriced but nice house and great food). Note : if you happen to pass by Mbay on Saturday, the market is well worth a stop (cheapest Ikat on the trip : you’ll be asked normal prices providing you’re OK in Bahasa…) D5 : Muku Saki – Tanjung Kajuwulu (near Ndete) (90km, 3h). Many patholes, eroded (C). Night at Déjà Vu Homestay (220k for a matress on the floor & outside mandi/toilets ; I woud define this as a tourist trap – the quote we had for food was double priced too…) D6 : Tanjung Kajuwulu – Waiterang (east of Maumere, 55km , 1h30). Pathholes till maumere, then All good (TransFlores), C/A. Night at Sunset Cottage (new concrete room, very serene place ; 270k for AC with bathroom ; much prefered Sunset over Lena House (more customers, more built up). D7 : Waiterang – Larantuka via Boru and Eputobi (TransFlores ; grade A ; 115km / 2h40). Particularly liked the drink stalls (marked as Rest Area Eputobi) and the out of order aquatic park just before Larantuka (obyej wisata waiplatin). Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay, which is not advertising itself as Larantuka Beach Homestay as some contributor signals here and on goole maps review. Best breakfast of the trip (Cumi Cumi !!!) ; 275k for AC room with bathroom. D8 : Local Boat (Kapal Kayu) from the main port to Lembata (Lewoleba). Departure 8am ; price 60k/head + 50k for the bike. Stop enroute on Adonara (where we did not stop due to fights between communities). Night @Elmany Homestay (275k for AC room with bathroom, fan room with shared bathroom also available). Whole afternoon at Pantai Hadakewa, fantastic place (good snorkeling, great views of Ile Api aka Gn Lewotolo). Road condition : A (did not expect the TransLembata to be that good…). D9 : Loop around Ile Api (50km, 2hrs), anticlockwise. Stops enroute at Situs Tulang Paus (whale squeletton), pantai Jotona, pantai Wena (we expected to snorkel from there, but wind was very strong that day), situs Watu Nale, Selat Sonia. The western coast is far less interesting. Road conditions : bad (C) on the eastern side (up to Riangbeda), good (B/A) afterwards. Night @Elmany Homestay. D10 : Lewoleba – Lamalera via the western and south coast (70km, 2h30). Good road (B) for roughly the first 55km (up to Tapobali), then eroded track for the last 15km (in some parts steep and dangerous) up to Lamalera (D/C). Notes : 1/ Kuma resort denied us the entry for some drink ; 2/Pantai Waijarang « complex » is abandonned but closed with fences ; you can still sneak in ; 3/ some reports advise to skip Bukit Cinta (foreigner entry fee) for Bukit Doa Watomiten (stations of the cross) ; well Bukit Cinta has also been abandonned (well spent money…sic) but remains opened with structures falling (quickly) appart. Night @Lamalera Inn (200k per head including meals ; very basic fan room + attached mandi). Planned 2 nights, spent only one, as it’s the only tenant I had difficulties with (only interested in money, initially stated crazy prices, starts loud music at 6am … and drinking moke at 8am…) D11 : Trip to Wulandoni for the Barter Market (Saturday only). Bad road (C) along the coast. Had to report at the Kantor upon arrival, which quite surprisingly asked 100k per person (foreigner) to go inside the (outside) market. Other « local » tourists (a group from Jakarta) were not asked to pay. Well, since a market is a public space and not a zoo, we refused payment and enjoyed the activity from the kopi stall next to it. Returned then to Lamalera for the catches of the day, then to Lewoleba via the mountain road (45km, 2 hours). First 10km to Puor is in very bad condition and uphill (D/C). The remaining is on a newly constructed road (A). Note : Air Panas Sabutobo is abandonned and falling apart (again…) but there are still some water pipes along the river that you can enjoy (depending how lucky you are, just with the forest sounds as companion). Night @Elmany Homestay D12 : Chill day alond the northern coast (Batu Payung, Pantai Hadakewa with lot of snorkeling, drove till Wailolong and backtracked to Pantai Lewolein for more snorkeling (nice canyons there !) and another fantastic sunset over Ile Api (see GMaps pictures)). Night @Elmany Homestay D13 : Monday weekly market at Pada, southwest of Lewoleba. Renowned but honnestly dont plan any itinerary specifically for it, just an ordinary Kampung weekly market. Returned to Larantuka and Flores with the 12pm local boat (the same boat that leaves from Larantuka at 8am). Same prices as the first leg. Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay D14 : Larantuka – Waiterang along the northern coast (100km, 3h) via Pantai Kawaliwu, Tewuk Lewokluok (trail is easy to find, very nice snorkelling in a lagoon), Pantai Lato (to my opinion the most beautiful beach on Flores and you’ll be the only visitor, as opposed to Pantai Koka) and Pantai Hia, until rejoining the TransFlores near Nebe. Grade C on the costal eroded road / track. 3 nights @Lena Guesthouse (booked ahead as it fills up quickly, but we prefered its neighbour Sunset Beach Guesthouse) D15 : Snorkeling trip organised by Lena Guesthouse (200k per head excluding NP fees and lunch)). The drop-off near Pulau Babi is a very nice spot. D16 : scooter day trip around the Egon Range (too lazy to hike it…), through nice Sikka villages (route : Watublapi, Umauta, Bola, pantai Doreng, Nakatoli, foot of Gn Egon, Air panas Blidit). The track from Natakoli to the foot of Gn Egon is very steep, damaged and wet (with moss) ; I would recommend not to attempt that in case of bad weather. D17 : Waiterang – Moni (130km, 3h30, transflores grade A/B) via Pantai Koka (refused to pay the mafia entry fee…) and Jopu (some rumah Adat Lio). Stopped at Museum Bikon Blewut, south of Maumere. Very nice artefacts (especially wooden statues from Papuan, great ikat collection) although very disorganized and sadly non-visited (hence masterpieces fall into oblivion). 2 Nights @Liahz Lodge (150k for fan room, basic bathroom… but right next to Air Panas Liasembe (free, no closing time) !!!). D18 : Sunrise from Kelimutu with a nice weather (stayed until 8.30am). I don’t know if the sunrise is really worth it (lot of people ascending and watching the sunrise – a lot but nothing compared to e.g. Gn Bromo), nearly everyone going down around 7am, then there is virtually nobody. Trip (20km one way, good road B) to Kampung Adat Nggela (Lio). Although the village is habited and mostly out of the beaten path, I have mixed fillings due to the fact that most ladies (some are pushy) try to sell you (bad) pieces of ikat. D19 : Moni – Ende via Detusoko paddy fields, Kampung Adat Saga (Lio) and Puncak Ndona ; 75km 2h30. We really liked Saga (nice setting on the mountain, friendly villagers, no selling, mix between traditional and more modern houses in that lively village). Sunset from Bukit Raja, on the peninsula with a 360 view on Gn Iya, Gn Meja Kota Ende and the mountains behind. Note : at the end of the road (search for Gunung Meja Tourist Info Center), there is a (sand) track leading to the path. 1/ only intend the track if you have off road driving experience ; 2/ dont trust the walking time stated by Maps.me. Took us 45mins on a steady pace to reach the summit. Night @Hoja Homestay, 300k for a comfortable AC room with bathroom. D20 : Ende – Bajawa, via Air Panas Mengeruda ; grade A, 120km, 3 hours. Note : don’t plan to short in Mengeruda (Soa), very easy to spend a half day there, especially if playing with local kids. Stay @Cinnamon GH, 250k for double with fan and hot shower (cheaper options with shared hot shower availlable). D21 : First day in Bajawa : Watu Nari Wowo (Avatar Hill, sic…), Kampung Adat Ngada Tololela & Gurusina (very very friendly people, complementary views of Gn Inerie & Wolo Deru). Sunset from Puncak Manulalu (well… Heaven’s door Bar & Restaurant) D22 : Second day in Bajawa : Kampung Adat Ngio (hardly visited, best view on Gn Inerie), Air Panas Malanage, Kampung Adat Bena (the most visited Ngada village (after Bela ?) in the area, we went there at the end of the afternoon to avoid tours, early morning would be fine too), and Gunung Wolobobo for a terrific sunset D23 : returned to Gunung Wolobobo for sunrise with Gn Ebulobo in the distance (search for a track on the eastern slope, near the communication antenna). You can circuit the rim to the usual viewpoint (westside, sunset spot), the path is easy to find. Then took again the road to Aimere, visiting Kampung Adat Belaraghi enroute (the setting is maybe less rewarding than all the previous villages). 56km ; 1h30. The road to Belaraghi is fine, except the final part. D24 : Aimere – Ruteng (105km, 3h30). Nice detour by the paddy fields of Wodo (southwest of Golo Loni) of Sunset from Golo Curu (nice encounters with locals). Night @Tange GH, 130k for room with outside (private) bathroom, no breakfast. D25 : Surroundings of Ruteng (paddy fields north and east of ruteng ; Maps.me has funny tracks starting from Kenda), and the rather pleasant city itself (pasar, churches, lapangan). We finally skipped Liang Bua. D26 : Ruteng - Labuan Bajo (130km, 3h30). No visits of the waterfalls close to the TransFlores (entry fee (with bule prices) + mandatory guide etc…). Sunset from Bukit Hercadi with very few locals (Bukit Sylvia & Bukit Amelia, just south, were packed). 2 nights @Wellamas Homestay, away from the harbour and its advantages/disadvantages. 230k for comfortable AC room with hot shower. D27 : New road to Golo Mori Convention Center (another big money well spent…), with nice views on the strait separating Flores from Pulau Rinca. Some empty beaches (e.g. Pantai Pasir Pajang ; we were there on a weekday perhaps frequented by people from LBajo only). 30km (40 mins) one way, perhaps the fastest road of Flores… D28 : Morning on the peninsula north of Labuan Bajo before taking a flight to Jakarta in the afternoon. On Google maps, the asphalt road only goes to Teras Langit ; it now (august 2026) continues to Puncak Basok and is still in progress towards the eastern part of the peninsula. On the way back, two other nice Bukit where you can enjoy nice views on the bay (and the resorts…) : Bukit Lontar & Bukit Beta. Note : we only found one public (and nice and quiet) beach in the area ; tagged as Sunset Point Beach on Gmaps. All the rest was closed by fences ; they are privately owned (although the Indonesian consitution grants the coastline as public space).
Contexte : une trentaine de jours, en scooter et en duo, sur Florès (et une petite incursion dans l'archipel de Solor, plus précisément à Lembata (chut, faut pas trop en parler !!!), qui donne envie d'en faire beaucoup plus là bas malgré les infrastructures sporadiques), en partie dans des destinations déjà bien connues du forum (la classique Ruteng / Bajawa / Riung / Moni voir baie de Maumere) ... et qui ne parlera pas du PN de Komodo ou de Wae Rebo, puisque nous n'y sommes pas allés 🏴☠️.
Texte en anglais (issu d'une autre plateforme). Sans nul doute, des traducteurs intelligents ou pas marcheront à merveille en cas d'anglophobie 🤪.
Disponible à toute fin utile pour des détails ou infos.
Equippement : Yam' Nmax 155 ; 2x saccoches cavalières (25L) + sac de selle (30L) + saccoche tunnel (15L pour le matos photo) ; casques et vêtements d'enduro amenés depuis la France.
Itinéraire : boucle depuis Labuan bajo jusqu'à Pulau Lembata ; juillet-août 2026
Road conditions graded from A (excellent) to D (very bad, at least for a Scooter… a CRF/KLX or even honda ADV would do better on that) D1 : Labuan Bajo – Reok via Ranggoe, Rego & Tagol (130km ; 5hrs). Section LBajo – Rego (90 km ; B) is quite good tarmac, despite a lot of elevation with many small valleys and passes. Rego – Tagol (10km ; D) is a stone road (not gravel), some ascents & very poor condition ; necessary to lower tyre pressure. Tagol – Reok port (22km, quality depends considerably from D to B). Reok port – Towncenter : B. Night @Iffah Homestay (100k for fan room, mandi attached, no breakfast), simple but clean. Notes : path to danau Sano Limbung was closed ; access to Tiwu Pai & Wae Kuli (waterfalls) not permitted in july 2026. D2 : Reok – Riung via Pota (105km ; 3h-3h30). The road is very narrow in some part, thanks to the uncut bushes (lowering visibility hence extra caution as animals/people can suddenly appear in a turn…) but generally good condition except many eroded sections and some unpaved ones. Grade C/B. 2 nights @Mentos (285k for AC room) D3 : Boat tour in Riung (booked directly with a captain, 800k for two for private boat incl. lunch and NP fees) + sunset from Watu Mitong Riung (should not be missed). D4 : Riung – Muku Saki via Mbay (around 100km ; 3h30). Quality varies from A in the vicinity of Mbay to eroded sections (C) in secluded places. Night @Sao Paolo Homestay (250k for fan room with mandi, maybe overpriced but nice house and great food). Note : if you happen to pass by Mbay on Saturday, the market is well worth a stop (cheapest Ikat on the trip : you’ll be asked normal prices providing you’re OK in Bahasa…) D5 : Muku Saki – Tanjung Kajuwulu (near Ndete) (90km, 3h). Many patholes, eroded (C). Night at Déjà Vu Homestay (220k for a matress on the floor & outside mandi/toilets ; I woud define this as a tourist trap – the quote we had for food was double priced too…) D6 : Tanjung Kajuwulu – Waiterang (east of Maumere, 55km , 1h30). Pathholes till maumere, then All good (TransFlores), C/A. Night at Sunset Cottage (new concrete room, very serene place ; 270k for AC with bathroom ; much prefered Sunset over Lena House (more customers, more built up). D7 : Waiterang – Larantuka via Boru and Eputobi (TransFlores ; grade A ; 115km / 2h40). Particularly liked the drink stalls (marked as Rest Area Eputobi) and the out of order aquatic park just before Larantuka (obyej wisata waiplatin). Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay, which is not advertising itself as Larantuka Beach Homestay as some contributor signals here and on goole maps review. Best breakfast of the trip (Cumi Cumi !!!) ; 275k for AC room with bathroom. D8 : Local Boat (Kapal Kayu) from the main port to Lembata (Lewoleba). Departure 8am ; price 60k/head + 50k for the bike. Stop enroute on Adonara (where we did not stop due to fights between communities). Night @Elmany Homestay (275k for AC room with bathroom, fan room with shared bathroom also available). Whole afternoon at Pantai Hadakewa, fantastic place (good snorkeling, great views of Ile Api aka Gn Lewotolo). Road condition : A (did not expect the TransLembata to be that good…). D9 : Loop around Ile Api (50km, 2hrs), anticlockwise. Stops enroute at Situs Tulang Paus (whale squeletton), pantai Jotona, pantai Wena (we expected to snorkel from there, but wind was very strong that day), situs Watu Nale, Selat Sonia. The western coast is far less interesting. Road conditions : bad (C) on the eastern side (up to Riangbeda), good (B/A) afterwards. Night @Elmany Homestay. D10 : Lewoleba – Lamalera via the western and south coast (70km, 2h30). Good road (B) for roughly the first 55km (up to Tapobali), then eroded track for the last 15km (in some parts steep and dangerous) up to Lamalera (D/C). Notes : 1/ Kuma resort denied us the entry for some drink ; 2/Pantai Waijarang « complex » is abandonned but closed with fences ; you can still sneak in ; 3/ some reports advise to skip Bukit Cinta (foreigner entry fee) for Bukit Doa Watomiten (stations of the cross) ; well Bukit Cinta has also been abandonned (well spent money…sic) but remains opened with structures falling (quickly) appart. Night @Lamalera Inn (200k per head including meals ; very basic fan room + attached mandi). Planned 2 nights, spent only one, as it’s the only tenant I had difficulties with (only interested in money, initially stated crazy prices, starts loud music at 6am … and drinking moke at 8am…) D11 : Trip to Wulandoni for the Barter Market (Saturday only). Bad road (C) along the coast. Had to report at the Kantor upon arrival, which quite surprisingly asked 100k per person (foreigner) to go inside the (outside) market. Other « local » tourists (a group from Jakarta) were not asked to pay. Well, since a market is a public space and not a zoo, we refused payment and enjoyed the activity from the kopi stall next to it. Returned then to Lamalera for the catches of the day, then to Lewoleba via the mountain road (45km, 2 hours). First 10km to Puor is in very bad condition and uphill (D/C). The remaining is on a newly constructed road (A). Note : Air Panas Sabutobo is abandonned and falling apart (again…) but there are still some water pipes along the river that you can enjoy (depending how lucky you are, just with the forest sounds as companion). Night @Elmany Homestay D12 : Chill day alond the northern coast (Batu Payung, Pantai Hadakewa with lot of snorkeling, drove till Wailolong and backtracked to Pantai Lewolein for more snorkeling (nice canyons there !) and another fantastic sunset over Ile Api (see GMaps pictures)). Night @Elmany Homestay D13 : Monday weekly market at Pada, southwest of Lewoleba. Renowned but honnestly dont plan any itinerary specifically for it, just an ordinary Kampung weekly market. Returned to Larantuka and Flores with the 12pm local boat (the same boat that leaves from Larantuka at 8am). Same prices as the first leg. Night @ Dewy Onong Homestay D14 : Larantuka – Waiterang along the northern coast (100km, 3h) via Pantai Kawaliwu, Tewuk Lewokluok (trail is easy to find, very nice snorkelling in a lagoon), Pantai Lato (to my opinion the most beautiful beach on Flores and you’ll be the only visitor, as opposed to Pantai Koka) and Pantai Hia, until rejoining the TransFlores near Nebe. Grade C on the costal eroded road / track. 3 nights @Lena Guesthouse (booked ahead as it fills up quickly, but we prefered its neighbour Sunset Beach Guesthouse) D15 : Snorkeling trip organised by Lena Guesthouse (200k per head excluding NP fees and lunch)). The drop-off near Pulau Babi is a very nice spot. D16 : scooter day trip around the Egon Range (too lazy to hike it…), through nice Sikka villages (route : Watublapi, Umauta, Bola, pantai Doreng, Nakatoli, foot of Gn Egon, Air panas Blidit). The track from Natakoli to the foot of Gn Egon is very steep, damaged and wet (with moss) ; I would recommend not to attempt that in case of bad weather. D17 : Waiterang – Moni (130km, 3h30, transflores grade A/B) via Pantai Koka (refused to pay the mafia entry fee…) and Jopu (some rumah Adat Lio). Stopped at Museum Bikon Blewut, south of Maumere. Very nice artefacts (especially wooden statues from Papuan, great ikat collection) although very disorganized and sadly non-visited (hence masterpieces fall into oblivion). 2 Nights @Liahz Lodge (150k for fan room, basic bathroom… but right next to Air Panas Liasembe (free, no closing time) !!!). D18 : Sunrise from Kelimutu with a nice weather (stayed until 8.30am). I don’t know if the sunrise is really worth it (lot of people ascending and watching the sunrise – a lot but nothing compared to e.g. Gn Bromo), nearly everyone going down around 7am, then there is virtually nobody. Trip (20km one way, good road B) to Kampung Adat Nggela (Lio). Although the village is habited and mostly out of the beaten path, I have mixed fillings due to the fact that most ladies (some are pushy) try to sell you (bad) pieces of ikat. D19 : Moni – Ende via Detusoko paddy fields, Kampung Adat Saga (Lio) and Puncak Ndona ; 75km 2h30. We really liked Saga (nice setting on the mountain, friendly villagers, no selling, mix between traditional and more modern houses in that lively village). Sunset from Bukit Raja, on the peninsula with a 360 view on Gn Iya, Gn Meja Kota Ende and the mountains behind. Note : at the end of the road (search for Gunung Meja Tourist Info Center), there is a (sand) track leading to the path. 1/ only intend the track if you have off road driving experience ; 2/ dont trust the walking time stated by Maps.me. Took us 45mins on a steady pace to reach the summit. Night @Hoja Homestay, 300k for a comfortable AC room with bathroom. D20 : Ende – Bajawa, via Air Panas Mengeruda ; grade A, 120km, 3 hours. Note : don’t plan to short in Mengeruda (Soa), very easy to spend a half day there, especially if playing with local kids. Stay @Cinnamon GH, 250k for double with fan and hot shower (cheaper options with shared hot shower availlable). D21 : First day in Bajawa : Watu Nari Wowo (Avatar Hill, sic…), Kampung Adat Ngada Tololela & Gurusina (very very friendly people, complementary views of Gn Inerie & Wolo Deru). Sunset from Puncak Manulalu (well… Heaven’s door Bar & Restaurant) D22 : Second day in Bajawa : Kampung Adat Ngio (hardly visited, best view on Gn Inerie), Air Panas Malanage, Kampung Adat Bena (the most visited Ngada village (after Bela ?) in the area, we went there at the end of the afternoon to avoid tours, early morning would be fine too), and Gunung Wolobobo for a terrific sunset D23 : returned to Gunung Wolobobo for sunrise with Gn Ebulobo in the distance (search for a track on the eastern slope, near the communication antenna). You can circuit the rim to the usual viewpoint (westside, sunset spot), the path is easy to find. Then took again the road to Aimere, visiting Kampung Adat Belaraghi enroute (the setting is maybe less rewarding than all the previous villages). 56km ; 1h30. The road to Belaraghi is fine, except the final part. D24 : Aimere – Ruteng (105km, 3h30). Nice detour by the paddy fields of Wodo (southwest of Golo Loni) of Sunset from Golo Curu (nice encounters with locals). Night @Tange GH, 130k for room with outside (private) bathroom, no breakfast. D25 : Surroundings of Ruteng (paddy fields north and east of ruteng ; Maps.me has funny tracks starting from Kenda), and the rather pleasant city itself (pasar, churches, lapangan). We finally skipped Liang Bua. D26 : Ruteng - Labuan Bajo (130km, 3h30). No visits of the waterfalls close to the TransFlores (entry fee (with bule prices) + mandatory guide etc…). Sunset from Bukit Hercadi with very few locals (Bukit Sylvia & Bukit Amelia, just south, were packed). 2 nights @Wellamas Homestay, away from the harbour and its advantages/disadvantages. 230k for comfortable AC room with hot shower. D27 : New road to Golo Mori Convention Center (another big money well spent…), with nice views on the strait separating Flores from Pulau Rinca. Some empty beaches (e.g. Pantai Pasir Pajang ; we were there on a weekday perhaps frequented by people from LBajo only). 30km (40 mins) one way, perhaps the fastest road of Flores… D28 : Morning on the peninsula north of Labuan Bajo before taking a flight to Jakarta in the afternoon. On Google maps, the asphalt road only goes to Teras Langit ; it now (august 2026) continues to Puncak Basok and is still in progress towards the eastern part of the peninsula. On the way back, two other nice Bukit where you can enjoy nice views on the bay (and the resorts…) : Bukit Lontar & Bukit Beta. Note : we only found one public (and nice and quiet) beach in the area ; tagged as Sunset Point Beach on Gmaps. All the rest was closed by fences ; they are privately owned (although the Indonesian consitution grants the coastline as public space).
We're a family of five: one dad, one mom, and three kids aged 10, 15, and 18.
Before diving into each stop in more detail, here are a few general thoughts:
We wanted to sample a bit of everything Japan has to offer in terms of landscapes, accommodation, and transport. We were after walks, temples, restaurants, shopping, and some downtime—but no "all-inclusive experiences" or museums for this first visit.
Three medium-sized (60x42x25) canvas suitcases, plus a duffel bag and a few small backpacks. 23 kg in the hold on the way out, 60 kg on the way back. 36 kg of shopping, without even trying. I think this is the maximum suitcase size if you don’t want to stress on the Shinkansen: they fit easily in the overhead racks.
Round-trip with Cathay Pacific, layover in Hong Kong: no need to collect luggage in Hong Kong—we checked it in at departure and picked it up in Tokyo, and the same on the way back (checked in Osaka, picked up at our final destination). This let us explore Hong Kong without worrying about our bags. Food and entertainment were pretty good—meals included a little Häagen-Dazs on each flight, and the entertainment had way more Asian cinema than you’d find on a Western airline, which was a nice way to see how much weight Western culture carries in Asia.
Initial itinerary: Tokyo (3 nights) Hakone (2 nights) Takayama (1 night) Kanazawa (2 nights) Kyoto (4 nights) Osaka (1 night) Ishigaki (3 nights)
The original plan was to fly directly from Ishigaki to Hong Kong, but due to Typhoon Dolphin, we had to cancel the Ishigaki leg. Cathay didn’t bat an eye about swapping the Ishigaki-HK flight for an Osaka-HK one, even though it was twice as long. We were a bit too attached to the idea of ending the trip with some beach time and replaced Ishigaki with Shirahama. It was a mistake—we should’ve visited Hiroshima or spent a little more time in Tokyo instead.
Before diving into each stop in more detail, here are a few general thoughts:
We wanted to sample a bit of everything Japan has to offer in terms of landscapes, accommodation, and transport. We were after walks, temples, restaurants, shopping, and some downtime—but no "all-inclusive experiences" or museums for this first visit.
Three medium-sized (60x42x25) canvas suitcases, plus a duffel bag and a few small backpacks. 23 kg in the hold on the way out, 60 kg on the way back. 36 kg of shopping, without even trying. I think this is the maximum suitcase size if you don’t want to stress on the Shinkansen: they fit easily in the overhead racks.
Round-trip with Cathay Pacific, layover in Hong Kong: no need to collect luggage in Hong Kong—we checked it in at departure and picked it up in Tokyo, and the same on the way back (checked in Osaka, picked up at our final destination). This let us explore Hong Kong without worrying about our bags. Food and entertainment were pretty good—meals included a little Häagen-Dazs on each flight, and the entertainment had way more Asian cinema than you’d find on a Western airline, which was a nice way to see how much weight Western culture carries in Asia.
Initial itinerary: Tokyo (3 nights) Hakone (2 nights) Takayama (1 night) Kanazawa (2 nights) Kyoto (4 nights) Osaka (1 night) Ishigaki (3 nights)
The original plan was to fly directly from Ishigaki to Hong Kong, but due to Typhoon Dolphin, we had to cancel the Ishigaki leg. Cathay didn’t bat an eye about swapping the Ishigaki-HK flight for an Osaka-HK one, even though it was twice as long. We were a bit too attached to the idea of ending the trip with some beach time and replaced Ishigaki with Shirahama. It was a mistake—we should’ve visited Hiroshima or spent a little more time in Tokyo instead.
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!
Hello and welcome aboard this new travel journal!
We’re heading off to Ireland together—a country I’ve wanted to explore for a very long time.

The moment has finally arrived. We’ll be traveling as a family—my wife, my husband, and our 7-year-old daughter.
Here’s our itinerary:
24/07: Flight from Marseille to Dublin, overnight in Dublin 25/07: Dublin, overnight in Dublin 26/07: Dublin, overnight in Dublin 27/07: Pick up rental car, drive to Dingle, overnight near Tralee on the peninsula 28/07: Visit the Ring of Kerry 29/07: Adare, Bunratty Castle, Galway, overnight in Outheragh, near Galway 30/07: Cliffs of Moher, overnight in Outheragh 31/07: Connemara, overnight in Outheragh 01/08: Drive to Sligo via Westport and Downpatrick Head, overnight in Sligo 02/08: Slieve League, Silver Strand Beach, Glencolmcille, overnight in Sligo 03/08: Drive to Derry via Glenveagh National Park, overnight in Derry 04/08: Giant’s Causeway, Dunluce Castle, Portrush, Derry, overnight in Derry 05/08: Drive to Belfast, visit Belfast, overnight in Lisburn (Belfast suburbs) 06/08: Game of Thrones filming locations: Dark Hedges, Carrick-a-Rede, Ballintoy, etc., overnight in Lisburn 07/08: Drive to the Wicklow Mountains, visit Wicklow Mountains National Park, overnight in Blessington 08/08: Drive back to Dublin and return to Marseille.
Cost breakdown:
Flights:
Outbound flights with KLM via Amsterdam for 3: 175 € + 40,000 Flying Blue miles (so essentially a free ticket) Return flight with Aer Lingus for 3: 489 €

Rental car:
10 days booked with Enterprise via Carigami: 443 € including zero-excess insurance.

Accommodation:
Dublin: 3 nights at Maldron Hotel New Cross: 394 € Tralee: 2 nights in a caravan (Ocean Trail Oasis): 292 € Outheragh: 3 nights Airbnb, family room with private bathroom: 430 € Sligo: 2 nights at Clayton Hotel: 456 € Derry: 2 nights at Belfray Inn: 255 € Lisburn: 2 nights at Temple Golf Club: 232 € Blessington: 1 night at Baltyboys Lodges B&B: 158 €

That brings our total to 3,325 € for three.
On the ground, visits, fuel, and food cost around 2,500 €. So this was quite an expensive trip. A few price examples: 1 liter of unleaded fuel: 1.89 € 3-day pass in Dublin: 18 € 1 scoop of ice cream: 5 to 6.5 € Castle visit: 15 € per person A coffee: 3-4 € A glass of wine at a restaurant: 8-10 € A half-pint of Guinness: 7-12 €

Now, here’s the day-by-day account of our adventure in Ireland:

The moment has finally arrived. We’ll be traveling as a family—my wife, my husband, and our 7-year-old daughter.
Here’s our itinerary:
24/07: Flight from Marseille to Dublin, overnight in Dublin 25/07: Dublin, overnight in Dublin 26/07: Dublin, overnight in Dublin 27/07: Pick up rental car, drive to Dingle, overnight near Tralee on the peninsula 28/07: Visit the Ring of Kerry 29/07: Adare, Bunratty Castle, Galway, overnight in Outheragh, near Galway 30/07: Cliffs of Moher, overnight in Outheragh 31/07: Connemara, overnight in Outheragh 01/08: Drive to Sligo via Westport and Downpatrick Head, overnight in Sligo 02/08: Slieve League, Silver Strand Beach, Glencolmcille, overnight in Sligo 03/08: Drive to Derry via Glenveagh National Park, overnight in Derry 04/08: Giant’s Causeway, Dunluce Castle, Portrush, Derry, overnight in Derry 05/08: Drive to Belfast, visit Belfast, overnight in Lisburn (Belfast suburbs) 06/08: Game of Thrones filming locations: Dark Hedges, Carrick-a-Rede, Ballintoy, etc., overnight in Lisburn 07/08: Drive to the Wicklow Mountains, visit Wicklow Mountains National Park, overnight in Blessington 08/08: Drive back to Dublin and return to Marseille.
Cost breakdown:
Flights:
Outbound flights with KLM via Amsterdam for 3: 175 € + 40,000 Flying Blue miles (so essentially a free ticket) Return flight with Aer Lingus for 3: 489 €

Rental car:
10 days booked with Enterprise via Carigami: 443 € including zero-excess insurance.

Accommodation:
Dublin: 3 nights at Maldron Hotel New Cross: 394 € Tralee: 2 nights in a caravan (Ocean Trail Oasis): 292 € Outheragh: 3 nights Airbnb, family room with private bathroom: 430 € Sligo: 2 nights at Clayton Hotel: 456 € Derry: 2 nights at Belfray Inn: 255 € Lisburn: 2 nights at Temple Golf Club: 232 € Blessington: 1 night at Baltyboys Lodges B&B: 158 €

That brings our total to 3,325 € for three.
On the ground, visits, fuel, and food cost around 2,500 €. So this was quite an expensive trip. A few price examples: 1 liter of unleaded fuel: 1.89 € 3-day pass in Dublin: 18 € 1 scoop of ice cream: 5 to 6.5 € Castle visit: 15 € per person A coffee: 3-4 € A glass of wine at a restaurant: 8-10 € A half-pint of Guinness: 7-12 €

Now, here’s the day-by-day account of our adventure in Ireland:
Day 1 – December 6
Our decision is our decision. And it’s firm and final. Next winter, our plane will spread its great wings toward the island of Ceylon! "Wait a minute... Ceylon... Ceylon... that name rings a bell, but I can’t quite place it on the globe Grandma gave me for Christmas! Ceylon... Oh right, I’ve got it: Ceylon is the name of my tea!" Exactly. But the name on your pretty tea box is also the one used until 1972 for this island nation, a speck on the Indian Ocean at the southern tip of the Indian subcontinent: Sri Lanka!
For this new adventure, I’m exceptionally leaving my Flo behind, cowardly replaced by a double dose of testosterone. To write the book of this journey with me, I’m bringing along my brother, who’s used to this kind of thing, and... a guest star: My model of resilience. My dad! All aboard! Or rather, all aboard our tuk-tuk! Yes, you read that right: A real tuk-tuk, a little colorful rolling box that putters along at two miles an hour. The idea? Well, Sri Lanka and its winding roads overlooking the vastness of lush nature are tailor-made for this kind of vehicle. And since it’s one of only two countries in the world that allow foreigners to rent and drive these mini speedsters, we’ll be crisscrossing the island in our two-square-meter rolling box. Plus, adopting this mode of transport is a surefire way to connect directly with the locals, who’ll surely be curious to see a foreigner driving their iconic vehicle. Not to mention the... let’s say... spicy anecdotes it might generate. I mean, heading into a subtropical zone with my jet-black dad and his unpredictable digestive flora while deliberately choosing the tuk-tuk as our *only* means of transport? That’s the winning combo for an unforgettable adventure! "More seriously, Dad, Sullivan, I’m already loving the idea of living this adventure together, the three of us—brothers and father..."
So, does the intro to this new adventure get your salivary glands going? Yes? Too bad. Because unfortunately, the program handed out by the lady at the entrance has been slightly... let’s say *crumpled*. Some might even say "scrunched up and nearly tossed in the trash." First, six days ago, as the countdown echoed in us like a call to adventure, Cyclone Ditwah grabbed Sri Lanka, played with it like a rag doll, and left it battered on the ground. The toll is devastating: over a thousand dead, thousands of homes wiped out by relentless rains, roads and railways swallowed by massive mudslides. A country wounded once again, after the civil war, the 2004 tsunami, and the post-Covid economic crisis.
But as if this weather disaster wasn’t enough to shake our unbreakable adventurer spirit, fate decided to mess with us further by cutting our trio down to two. The victim? My brother, violently turned away because of a simple date on his passport that didn’t match the border officials’ expectations. Return to sender!
So now it’s just the two of us allowed to board the Qatar Airways Airbus A380 for this trip. If he were here, Denis Brognart would say, "And in the end, only one remains!" Except I know you’ll be with us, following our adventures! Right?
Our decision is our decision. And it’s firm and final. Next winter, our plane will spread its great wings toward the island of Ceylon! "Wait a minute... Ceylon... Ceylon... that name rings a bell, but I can’t quite place it on the globe Grandma gave me for Christmas! Ceylon... Oh right, I’ve got it: Ceylon is the name of my tea!" Exactly. But the name on your pretty tea box is also the one used until 1972 for this island nation, a speck on the Indian Ocean at the southern tip of the Indian subcontinent: Sri Lanka!
For this new adventure, I’m exceptionally leaving my Flo behind, cowardly replaced by a double dose of testosterone. To write the book of this journey with me, I’m bringing along my brother, who’s used to this kind of thing, and... a guest star: My model of resilience. My dad! All aboard! Or rather, all aboard our tuk-tuk! Yes, you read that right: A real tuk-tuk, a little colorful rolling box that putters along at two miles an hour. The idea? Well, Sri Lanka and its winding roads overlooking the vastness of lush nature are tailor-made for this kind of vehicle. And since it’s one of only two countries in the world that allow foreigners to rent and drive these mini speedsters, we’ll be crisscrossing the island in our two-square-meter rolling box. Plus, adopting this mode of transport is a surefire way to connect directly with the locals, who’ll surely be curious to see a foreigner driving their iconic vehicle. Not to mention the... let’s say... spicy anecdotes it might generate. I mean, heading into a subtropical zone with my jet-black dad and his unpredictable digestive flora while deliberately choosing the tuk-tuk as our *only* means of transport? That’s the winning combo for an unforgettable adventure! "More seriously, Dad, Sullivan, I’m already loving the idea of living this adventure together, the three of us—brothers and father..."
So, does the intro to this new adventure get your salivary glands going? Yes? Too bad. Because unfortunately, the program handed out by the lady at the entrance has been slightly... let’s say *crumpled*. Some might even say "scrunched up and nearly tossed in the trash." First, six days ago, as the countdown echoed in us like a call to adventure, Cyclone Ditwah grabbed Sri Lanka, played with it like a rag doll, and left it battered on the ground. The toll is devastating: over a thousand dead, thousands of homes wiped out by relentless rains, roads and railways swallowed by massive mudslides. A country wounded once again, after the civil war, the 2004 tsunami, and the post-Covid economic crisis.
But as if this weather disaster wasn’t enough to shake our unbreakable adventurer spirit, fate decided to mess with us further by cutting our trio down to two. The victim? My brother, violently turned away because of a simple date on his passport that didn’t match the border officials’ expectations. Return to sender!
So now it’s just the two of us allowed to board the Qatar Airways Airbus A380 for this trip. If he were here, Denis Brognart would say, "And in the end, only one remains!" Except I know you’ll be with us, following our adventures! Right?
Hello everyone, I’m happy to welcome you to this new travel journal.
We’re heading to Costa Rica together—a Central American destination that dreams are made of for many French travelers and attracts crowds from France.

It was the country’s wild nature and safety that convinced us to go, since we’re traveling with our 7-year-old little one. We didn’t have much vacation time in February 2026 (only 12 days), so we optimized as much as possible.

Here’s the itinerary: Wednesday, February 11: Flight from Marseille to San Jose via Paris and Atlanta Thursday, February 12: Pick up the car, drive to Poas Volcano, visit La Paz Waterfall Gardens Friday, February 13: Poas Volcano and drive to Manuel Antonio Saturday, February 14: Manuel Antonio National Park Sunday, February 15: Nauyaca Waterfall and Playa Linda Monday, February 16: Drive to Monte Verde and Santa Elena Reserve Tuesday, February 17: El Tigre Waterfall Reserve and Treetopia Park Wednesday, February 18: Monte Verde Reserve with a guide and drive to La Fortuna Thursday, February 19: Sloth guided tour, Observatory Lodge Park Friday, February 20: Arenal Volcano National Park, Termalistas del Arenal hot springs, and night tour Saturday, February 21: Return to San Jose, flight to Paris via Atlanta Sunday, February 22: Arrival in Paris and flight to Marseille. That gives us a solid 9 days in the country.

Budget breakdown: Costa Rica is an expensive country, but no more so than France. However, almost all hikes and waterfalls are paid entry, which can really add up. For meals, sodas (6–10 €) are cheaper than restaurants (10–20 € per dish).

Flights: We chose Delta Airlines for the price: Marseille to San Jose was 740 € per person (modifiable, with checked baggage and seat selection included). Other direct flights from Europe were priced between 1200 € and 1600 € with more restrictive conditions. That’s 2220 € for the family.

Accommodations: Alajuela, first night: 139 € (1 night) at Rodeo Estancia Boutique Hotel, with personalized airport pickup, transfer to the hotel, and a briefing from Vert Costa Rica agency the next day. Poas: 66 € (1 night) at Cabañas Tierra Fértil (entire apartment). Manuel Antonio: 394 € (3 nights) at La Palapa Ecolodge (hotel in the jungle). Monte Verde: Chalet Aloha Monteverde Cloud Forest (2 bedrooms): 125 € (2 nights). La Fortuna: Arenal Dream Garden (1 bedroom): 217 € (3 nights). Total: 941 €.

Car rental: I went through Vert Costa Rica agency (Vincent is a French expat who set up the agency in Costa Rica and makes great YouTube videos with useful tips). I rented a 4x4 that was delivered to the hotel the day after arrival and returned at the airport before the flight. The total was 772 €, including full insurance (zero deductible), a child seat, and a phone with a Costa Rican SIM and WhatsApp. The rental company was Poas Rent a Car. The vehicle was well-maintained—no complaints. Gas: 100 € for the whole trip (3 fill-ups).

Activities: To get discounts, I bought the pass offered by Vincent, which paid for itself after just one activity. It cost me 30 € (promo since I rented the car through him). Prices are for 3 people. I’ve added stars to rate them: La Paz Waterfall Gardens ****: 112 € Poas Volcano National Park *: 33 € Manuel Antonio National Park ****: 35 € Nauyaca Waterfall ***: 25 € Santa Elena Reserve **: 45 € El Tigre Waterfall Reserve ****: 141 € (with meal) Treetopia (ziplining, suspension bridges) **: 250 € Guided tour of Monte Verde Reserve ***: 113 € Sloth guided tour (with breakfast) ***: 115 € Arenal Observatory Lodge (with meal) ****: 102 € Arenal Volcano National Park *: 34 € Termalistas del Arenal ****: 20 € Night tour ***: 116 € Total: 1171 €.

Meals: 600 € My favorite restaurants: Poas: Food court Mercaditas in Fraijanes Manuel Antonio (near La Palapa): La Langosta and also El Patio Near Nauyaca Waterfall: Ricar2 el Avión Between Manuel Antonio and Monte Verde: Soda D’Calle Santa Elena: HG’s Food Guadalupe (between Monte Verde and La Fortuna): Soda Río Piedras Arenal Observatory Lodge restaurant Arenal Oasis Ecolodge restaurant

Other expenses: 300 € (groceries for breakfast, drinks, ice cream, souvenirs, etc.) Total overall: 6065 € (about 2020 € per person).
Now, here’s the day-by-day account of this beautiful trip.
https://voyageforum.com/images/posts/small/1772295011-z8mILBEUXHU8Ajz.jpg

It was the country’s wild nature and safety that convinced us to go, since we’re traveling with our 7-year-old little one. We didn’t have much vacation time in February 2026 (only 12 days), so we optimized as much as possible.

Here’s the itinerary: Wednesday, February 11: Flight from Marseille to San Jose via Paris and Atlanta Thursday, February 12: Pick up the car, drive to Poas Volcano, visit La Paz Waterfall Gardens Friday, February 13: Poas Volcano and drive to Manuel Antonio Saturday, February 14: Manuel Antonio National Park Sunday, February 15: Nauyaca Waterfall and Playa Linda Monday, February 16: Drive to Monte Verde and Santa Elena Reserve Tuesday, February 17: El Tigre Waterfall Reserve and Treetopia Park Wednesday, February 18: Monte Verde Reserve with a guide and drive to La Fortuna Thursday, February 19: Sloth guided tour, Observatory Lodge Park Friday, February 20: Arenal Volcano National Park, Termalistas del Arenal hot springs, and night tour Saturday, February 21: Return to San Jose, flight to Paris via Atlanta Sunday, February 22: Arrival in Paris and flight to Marseille. That gives us a solid 9 days in the country.

Budget breakdown: Costa Rica is an expensive country, but no more so than France. However, almost all hikes and waterfalls are paid entry, which can really add up. For meals, sodas (6–10 €) are cheaper than restaurants (10–20 € per dish).

Flights: We chose Delta Airlines for the price: Marseille to San Jose was 740 € per person (modifiable, with checked baggage and seat selection included). Other direct flights from Europe were priced between 1200 € and 1600 € with more restrictive conditions. That’s 2220 € for the family.

Accommodations: Alajuela, first night: 139 € (1 night) at Rodeo Estancia Boutique Hotel, with personalized airport pickup, transfer to the hotel, and a briefing from Vert Costa Rica agency the next day. Poas: 66 € (1 night) at Cabañas Tierra Fértil (entire apartment). Manuel Antonio: 394 € (3 nights) at La Palapa Ecolodge (hotel in the jungle). Monte Verde: Chalet Aloha Monteverde Cloud Forest (2 bedrooms): 125 € (2 nights). La Fortuna: Arenal Dream Garden (1 bedroom): 217 € (3 nights). Total: 941 €.

Car rental: I went through Vert Costa Rica agency (Vincent is a French expat who set up the agency in Costa Rica and makes great YouTube videos with useful tips). I rented a 4x4 that was delivered to the hotel the day after arrival and returned at the airport before the flight. The total was 772 €, including full insurance (zero deductible), a child seat, and a phone with a Costa Rican SIM and WhatsApp. The rental company was Poas Rent a Car. The vehicle was well-maintained—no complaints. Gas: 100 € for the whole trip (3 fill-ups).

Activities: To get discounts, I bought the pass offered by Vincent, which paid for itself after just one activity. It cost me 30 € (promo since I rented the car through him). Prices are for 3 people. I’ve added stars to rate them: La Paz Waterfall Gardens ****: 112 € Poas Volcano National Park *: 33 € Manuel Antonio National Park ****: 35 € Nauyaca Waterfall ***: 25 € Santa Elena Reserve **: 45 € El Tigre Waterfall Reserve ****: 141 € (with meal) Treetopia (ziplining, suspension bridges) **: 250 € Guided tour of Monte Verde Reserve ***: 113 € Sloth guided tour (with breakfast) ***: 115 € Arenal Observatory Lodge (with meal) ****: 102 € Arenal Volcano National Park *: 34 € Termalistas del Arenal ****: 20 € Night tour ***: 116 € Total: 1171 €.

Meals: 600 € My favorite restaurants: Poas: Food court Mercaditas in Fraijanes Manuel Antonio (near La Palapa): La Langosta and also El Patio Near Nauyaca Waterfall: Ricar2 el Avión Between Manuel Antonio and Monte Verde: Soda D’Calle Santa Elena: HG’s Food Guadalupe (between Monte Verde and La Fortuna): Soda Río Piedras Arenal Observatory Lodge restaurant Arenal Oasis Ecolodge restaurant

Other expenses: 300 € (groceries for breakfast, drinks, ice cream, souvenirs, etc.) Total overall: 6065 € (about 2020 € per person).
Now, here’s the day-by-day account of this beautiful trip.
https://voyageforum.com/images/posts/small/1772295011-z8mILBEUXHU8Ajz.jpg
In early March, full of carefree joy and happy to return to Morocco, we landed in Marrakech under the sun.
We spent just one night in Marrakech at the Hôtel Toulousain, as we did on our previous trip. And we booked our 3 nights for the end of our trip, the second half of March... Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! But we’re not there yet...
Our first goal is to reach Magdaz, a mountain village in the Tessaout Valley, sometimes called the lost valley. We discovered the village of Magdaz on this forum, and we were charmed by the photos and comments from travelers who came before us. The road is easy—it’s dry, and the tarmac takes us right to the village gates at over 2,000 meters above sea level. We arrive in the afternoon and are left speechless by the beauty of the place. A jewel of Berber architecture! Perfectly restored granaries and kasbahs!

A young man from the village guides us on the visit and opens the doors to the terraces overlooking the village.
Several magnificent collective granaries have been beautifully restored. The warm colors of the stone capture the light wonderfully. It’s stunning!


We won’t find anything decent to stay overnight there, so we head back down a bit and settle in at the Assounfou guesthouse. Lovely welcome. The place is in excellent condition and very clean. It’s spacious, but we’re the only ones there. First day full of promise!
Our first goal is to reach Magdaz, a mountain village in the Tessaout Valley, sometimes called the lost valley. We discovered the village of Magdaz on this forum, and we were charmed by the photos and comments from travelers who came before us. The road is easy—it’s dry, and the tarmac takes us right to the village gates at over 2,000 meters above sea level. We arrive in the afternoon and are left speechless by the beauty of the place. A jewel of Berber architecture! Perfectly restored granaries and kasbahs!


A young man from the village guides us on the visit and opens the doors to the terraces overlooking the village.
Several magnificent collective granaries have been beautifully restored. The warm colors of the stone capture the light wonderfully. It’s stunning!


We won’t find anything decent to stay overnight there, so we head back down a bit and settle in at the Assounfou guesthouse. Lovely welcome. The place is in excellent condition and very clean. It’s spacious, but we’re the only ones there. First day full of promise!
Hi everyone,
We (two adults, 74 and 70 years old) had already shared a travel journal about our first trip to the Philippines in February/March 2019 on this forum (https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=9377175;search_string=carnet%20philippines). We had visited Manila, the Banaue rice terraces, Sagada, the Visayas (Bohol, Siquijor, Dumaguette), and on our way back to Luzon, the Taal volcano before returning to France. Delighted by this trip, organized by the French-speaking agency Alizé, we decided to further explore this beautiful country, this time focusing on Coron and Palawan.
Before writing this journal, I should mention that these are personal comments and don’t reflect any differing opinions. Without any literary or photographic talent, I’ll stick to the facts and share a few details about the visits, hotels, and restaurants.
Preparations
We decided to return in mid-January 2025 and consulted three French-speaking tour operators to create a trip based on our wishes (places to visit, type of accommodation) and budget. Comparing three operators helped us weigh their advice and make our choices. Only our first operator respected the budget, a second came close, and the third proposed a slightly more upscale trip. In the end, we chose the agency from our first trip. Our discussions helped refine our itinerary, and when we reviewed it point by point, the document provided was perfect, full of great tips. The most debated point was a 3-day, 2-night cruise between Coron and Palawan. We were tempted but worried about being the only "older" travelers among younger people and feared two uncomfortable nights. Reassured by our tour operator, we finally opted for this "exploration." We’ll come back to that later. Once the choice was made and dates set, we booked our international flights with Cathay Pacific for 750 € per person, which offers the best schedules (short layovers) at an acceptable price for flights arriving in Cebu. Our trip started on February 25 and returned to Paris on March 15.
International flights
The round-trip flights went smoothly. Cathay does the job well, without frills. The service quality seems to have slightly declined compared to our previous trips with them. Hong Kong Airport is huge but very practical. Note that not all airlines serve Cebu. Recommendation: Fill out your Philippine entry form within 72 hours before your flight. This can prevent issues with the airline (possible boarding refusal) and saves a lot of time upon arrival (see the Philippine embassy website).
Domestic flights
For our two domestic flights—Cebu to Coron and Puerto Princesa to Cebu—our tour operator chose Philippine Airlines and their propeller planes. No problems there.
Day 1: We landed around 12 PM (local time) after 17 hours of travel. A driver was waiting for us at the airport exit and took us to our hotel, intentionally chosen near the airport (Mandaue, about 10 minutes away) to help us recover and get a good night’s sleep before our early morning domestic flight the next day. The Mayoo Hotel, reasonably priced, was perfect for this. Large, beautiful room in a new building—clean, comfortable, with a spa. We could relax by the pool on the 16th floor and enjoy the city view. The breakfast was exceptional, and the staff was smiling, attentive, and helpful. An ATM in the lobby allowed for withdrawals. However, the hotel is in a neighborhood with nothing to see or do. We dined at the Korean restaurant K-GOGI across from the hotel—a real attraction and a great discovery.
Day 2: After a restful night, we were driven to the airport around 6:30 AM for an 8:10 AM flight from Cebu to Busuanga (Coron).

The flight was uneventful. Upon arrival, we paid 200 pesos per person for the Coron tourist fee before a 40-minute transfer to our hotel: Natura Resort, located outside the city in a secluded spot. The setting is stunning—a beautifully maintained tropical garden, a pleasant pool, and the option to book massages. The cottages are tropical-style with thatched roofs, simple and unpretentious.

The owner, who speaks French, told us that given the heat and our ages, climbing the 721 steps to the top of Mount Tapyas wasn’t necessary. She gave us a few rooftop recommendations to watch the sunset over Coron Bay. After a good swim in the pool and a meal at the resort’s pleasant restaurant, we hired a tricycle to go into town. We were told it costs 150 pesos one way, and depending on the return time, it could exceed 250 pesos. But our driver gave us his WhatsApp number and charged the same price regardless of the time. He just earned two days’ worth of customers. He dropped us off at the port where bangkas (local boats) gather for day trips. It was the end of the day, so there was a rush. A few shops around the port sold waterproof bags for marine excursions at reasonable prices (compared to back home), after some bargaining. We wandered the town’s alleys looking for the Top Hotel, whose rooftop is famous. Indeed, it’s perfectly located to admire the sunset and enjoy a refreshing drink.



We dined nearby at a small Chinese restaurant, then just had to call our driver to head back. The night wasn’t entirely restful—our hotel had a soundtrack of all the countryside animals, and it seemed they had no set bedtime! :
Preparations
We decided to return in mid-January 2025 and consulted three French-speaking tour operators to create a trip based on our wishes (places to visit, type of accommodation) and budget. Comparing three operators helped us weigh their advice and make our choices. Only our first operator respected the budget, a second came close, and the third proposed a slightly more upscale trip. In the end, we chose the agency from our first trip. Our discussions helped refine our itinerary, and when we reviewed it point by point, the document provided was perfect, full of great tips. The most debated point was a 3-day, 2-night cruise between Coron and Palawan. We were tempted but worried about being the only "older" travelers among younger people and feared two uncomfortable nights. Reassured by our tour operator, we finally opted for this "exploration." We’ll come back to that later. Once the choice was made and dates set, we booked our international flights with Cathay Pacific for 750 € per person, which offers the best schedules (short layovers) at an acceptable price for flights arriving in Cebu. Our trip started on February 25 and returned to Paris on March 15.
International flights
The round-trip flights went smoothly. Cathay does the job well, without frills. The service quality seems to have slightly declined compared to our previous trips with them. Hong Kong Airport is huge but very practical. Note that not all airlines serve Cebu. Recommendation: Fill out your Philippine entry form within 72 hours before your flight. This can prevent issues with the airline (possible boarding refusal) and saves a lot of time upon arrival (see the Philippine embassy website).
Domestic flights
For our two domestic flights—Cebu to Coron and Puerto Princesa to Cebu—our tour operator chose Philippine Airlines and their propeller planes. No problems there.
Day 1: We landed around 12 PM (local time) after 17 hours of travel. A driver was waiting for us at the airport exit and took us to our hotel, intentionally chosen near the airport (Mandaue, about 10 minutes away) to help us recover and get a good night’s sleep before our early morning domestic flight the next day. The Mayoo Hotel, reasonably priced, was perfect for this. Large, beautiful room in a new building—clean, comfortable, with a spa. We could relax by the pool on the 16th floor and enjoy the city view. The breakfast was exceptional, and the staff was smiling, attentive, and helpful. An ATM in the lobby allowed for withdrawals. However, the hotel is in a neighborhood with nothing to see or do. We dined at the Korean restaurant K-GOGI across from the hotel—a real attraction and a great discovery.
Day 2: After a restful night, we were driven to the airport around 6:30 AM for an 8:10 AM flight from Cebu to Busuanga (Coron).

The flight was uneventful. Upon arrival, we paid 200 pesos per person for the Coron tourist fee before a 40-minute transfer to our hotel: Natura Resort, located outside the city in a secluded spot. The setting is stunning—a beautifully maintained tropical garden, a pleasant pool, and the option to book massages. The cottages are tropical-style with thatched roofs, simple and unpretentious.

The owner, who speaks French, told us that given the heat and our ages, climbing the 721 steps to the top of Mount Tapyas wasn’t necessary. She gave us a few rooftop recommendations to watch the sunset over Coron Bay. After a good swim in the pool and a meal at the resort’s pleasant restaurant, we hired a tricycle to go into town. We were told it costs 150 pesos one way, and depending on the return time, it could exceed 250 pesos. But our driver gave us his WhatsApp number and charged the same price regardless of the time. He just earned two days’ worth of customers. He dropped us off at the port where bangkas (local boats) gather for day trips. It was the end of the day, so there was a rush. A few shops around the port sold waterproof bags for marine excursions at reasonable prices (compared to back home), after some bargaining. We wandered the town’s alleys looking for the Top Hotel, whose rooftop is famous. Indeed, it’s perfectly located to admire the sunset and enjoy a refreshing drink.



We dined nearby at a small Chinese restaurant, then just had to call our driver to head back. The night wasn’t entirely restful—our hotel had a soundtrack of all the countryside animals, and it seemed they had no set bedtime! :
