Aujourd'hui nous ferons donc une courte incursion en Alaska, à Skagway, à 200 km d'ici (Whitehorse).
Nous délaissons donc l'Alaska Highway, pour prendre le Klondike Highway, direction Sud.
Cette route (voir mon message précédent) est excellente, et particulièrement scénique.
Les lacs se succèdent, mais si nous ne devons stopper qu'une fois, c'est au bout d'une centaine de km, devant la magnificence d' "Emerald Lake". Tous les dégradés de bleu et de vert se conjuguent sur la surface. Et, isolé sur la berge, un magnifique chalet en bois, nous rappelle cette chanson qui nous a fait rêver durant notre jeunesse : "ma cabane au Canada".
Après deux heures de route, nous retrouvons la ligne de chemin de fer évoquée dans le message précédent, la "White Pass & Yukon Route", exploitée par la "Pacific and Arctic Railway Company". Un train est justement en attente de départ à la gare de Fraser.
Le poste de douane Canadien, suivi une quinzaine de km plus loin par le poste de douane US, sont passés rapidement, quasiment sans formalité (il nous a suffi de certifier que nous n'avions pas d'alcool ni d'armes à feu dans l'auto (les mœurs ont bien changé à Skagway depuis le bon vieux temps, tout se perd !) et le passeport est tamponné.
En fait, lors des multiples postes frontière Yukon-Alaska (ou Alaska-Yukon) que nous traverserons au cours de notre périple, on ne nous ennuiera jamais avec des formalités type ESTA.
Ensuite sur une quinzaine de miles on peut suivre du regard le tracé de la voie ferrée, magnifique avec ses viaducs et ses tunnels.
Et après une longue portion de descente, sur le coup de 10h (merci au changement de fuseau qui nous a fait gagner 1 heure), nous atteignons Skagway.
Nous délaissons alors la voiture, et filons vers la gare, lieu typique et stratégique de la ville.
Je recommande sans réserve le café-expresso servi au buffet.
Au bout d'une demi-heure, le train que nous avions vu à Fraser, entre enfin en gare.
Les contrôleurs sont affairés en pleine discussion. J'en profite pour visiter le convoi. Remarquez les passerelles entre les wagons, plus sympathiques que les soufflets des trains de chez nous.
Mais l'intérieur des wagons est finalement très quelconque, décevant même.
Enfin, au bout de quelques minutes, le train redémarre pour rejoindre le port (éloigné de 200 mètres à peine !). Mais les croisiéristes qui ont payé si cher leur ballade ferroviaire au sommet du White Pass n'aiment pas marcher.
Un luxueux bateau de croisière, le "Disney Wonder" (appartenant au groupe de l'oncle picsou), les attend pour de nouvelles aventures enivrantes (?). Pendant ce temps, d'autres navires de croisière patientent dans le port avant de débarquer leur "cargaison", qui prendra le train suivant.
Skagway est une ville Américaine, donc comme il se doit découpée sur toute sa longueur par un ensemble de rues parallèles et perpendiculaires entre elles.
La rue principale s'appelle "State Street", elle comprend de nombreux bâtiments, tout droit sortis de l'époque de la ruée vers l'or, mais cependant tous dans un état impeccable. En fait, je trouve l'ensemble très réussi.
Bien sûr, ces locaux sont tous reconvertis pour des usages touristiques (nombreux commerces), mais pourquoi pas après tout.
Comme je vous l'ai indiqué dans un message précédent, le 8 Juillet est ici jour de fête, on cherche à se remémorer la fin du 19ième siècle, quand Skagway était connu dans le monde entier.
Tous les habitants (pas les touristes, encore moins les croisiéristes) sont déguisés.
Dans les rues, les calèches côtoient de puissantes limousines.
Certaines maisons … je dirais particulières, retrouvent l'ambiance festive des temps jadis, et des demoiselles bien aguichantes (en particulier aux fenêtres) font de l'œil au passant honnête.
Une reconstitution avec des mannequins reproduit l'ambiance des bars d'antan.
Mais certains aussi restent bien calés sur le temps présent, et pensent même à l'an prochain (novembre 2012 pour être exact). Les maillots des champions sont en vente partout, et l'un d'eux fait fureur. Il faut dire que c'est le régional de l'étape.
Nous nous promenons ainsi longtemps avec plaisir dans les rues de la ville.
Bien sûr nous visitons les boutiques ; on y trouve de nombreux cadeaux peu chers, apparemment typiques de l'Alaska même s'ils sont tous made in China. Cela tombe bien, nous avons une liste de cadeaux à approvisionner avant notre retour au pays.
Le "Trail of 98 Museum", dans un magnifique bâtiment du XIXième en pierre de taille, mérite que l'on y consacre du temps. Il est parfaitement conçu, et fournit de nombreuses informations sur la ruée vers l'or de 1898, et particulièrement sur la montée du Chilkoot. Les multiples photos ou archives d'époque sont passionnantes à étudier. Le paquetage obligatoire que devait se coltiner les mineurs allant au Klondike est détaillé et exposé. Incroyable !
Et bien sûr, l'histoire de "Soapy Smith" et de son gang est bien mise en évidence.
Mais en milieu d'AM, il faut envisager le retour.
Nous jetons un dernier regard à la gare, et au chasse neige si indispensable en hiver (il y a alors souvent ici plusieurs mètres de neige).
Puis nous reprenons le Klondike Hwy direction nord, vers le col du White Pass.
La chance est avec nous. Un train fait le même trajet, à peu de distance de la route.
Nous longeons le "Summit Lake" dans lequel les montagnes environnantes se réfléchissent.
Re-douanes (toujours aussi fluides).
Puis petite ballade pour tester le sentier du Chilkoot, dans sa partie haute (après la montée du Chilkoot).
A partir de "Log Cabin" (parking), je comptais rejoindre le lac Linderman, où les prospecteurs de jadis construisaient leur premier radeau (ou traineau en période de glace). Une scierie qui s'était astucieusement installée dans les parages et a vite fait fortune.
Mais c'est alors que mon épouse est intimidée par un ours du voisinage. Nous devons absolument rebrousser chemin, je ne connaitrai jamais le fameux lac Linderman.
Puis nous reprenons la voiture, en direction du Nord.
Nous nous arrêtons quelques minutes à Carcross, seule petite agglomération sur le trajet. A certaines périodes de l'année, le village est célèbre car il est sur le passage des grandes migrations de caribous. Mais il n'y rien de tel en Juillet. Cependant le coin de la gare est sympathique.
Un pont permet à la voie ferrée de traverser un cours d'eau venant du Lac Bennett. Nous avons une pensée pour les prospecteurs qui devaient descendre cette rivière en radeau (avant la construction de la voie ferrée).
Nous rejoignons enfin notre hôtel de Whitehorse, bien après 21h.
Mais un message nous attend à la réception. Bizarre, bizarre, car je pensais que personne ne savait que nous étions ici.
En fait, c'est l'association Franco-Yukonnaise, dont je parle dans un message précédent, qui nous invite à un barbecue ce soir à …18h. Je ne sais absolument pas comment ils ont obtenu mon adresse. Mais quand je vous disais que cette association est très efficace …
Quoi qu'il en soit, il est beaucoup trop tard, et nous ne profiterons pas de cette soirée, probablement très sympathique. Nous le regrettons.
…
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J'ai suivi vos préparatifs et à présent j'apprécie tout particulièrement ce carnet plein d'infos et de superbes photos.
La partie "Rocheuses canadiennes" m'a fait revivre le voyage que nous y avions effectué et comme vous nous avions trouvé le personnel de l'accueil de "Becker's Chalets" assez désagréable.
Bien sûr j'attends la suite avec impatience .
Merci encore de prendre de votre temps pour écrire ce récit.
Liliane
Très sympa ce carnet. J'aime tout particulièrement le mélange impressions personnelles/explications historiques. Les photos aussi sont très chouettes.
Et dire que me fiant à la date du premier post, j'ai failli le louper (genre : c'est des échanges sur un"vieux" carnet).
Le lendemain matin, nous quittons Whitehorse sans nous mettre la pression. Il nous faut en effet attendre l'ouverture des supermarchés de la ville, afin de procéder à un dernier approvisionnement de nourriture, pour trois ou quatre journées (je ne sais pas ce que nous trouverons les prochains soirs).
Ce n'est qu'à 9h passé que nous retrouvons le Klondike Highway ; mais cette fois, ce sera en direction du Nord, cap sur Dawson City, point focal de tous les rêves, lors de la Ruée vers l'Or. Les prospecteurs de la fin du 19ième siècle faisaient ce même trajet, mais par voie fluviale.
Notre premier arrêt sera justement Carmacks, seule agglomération du parcours, au bord du Yukon. Un chemin sur caillebottis de bois, permet une agréable ballade, le long du fleuve.
Puis à la mi-journée nous parvenons à un passage célèbre, "The Five Finger Rapids".
C'était le principal obstacle pour les navigateurs sur le fleuve. La rivière est séparée par des énormes blocs de rocher en cinq passages distincts, l'un d'entre eux seulement étant assez profond pour permettre le passage des vapeurs à fond plat. Le courant est assez violent.
Après le lunch traditionnel, nous effectuons une promenade vers le Yukon. Un long escalier en bois permet de dévaler la falaise. Nous continuons par un sentier forestier d'un mile environ, environné de jolies fleurs …
… et débouchons sur la rive du fleuve.
Voici le même passage, mais la photo a été prise 110 ans plus tôt.
L'histoire raconte que l'endroit était redouté et que le nombre de naufrages ici fût très élevé. Pour plus de précision, on peut se reporter à la référence en la matière, l'album de Lucky Luke : "Le Klondike".
Nous reprenons la route pour quelques heures. Nous longeons des jolis lacs dans lesquels pataugent des mooses. Puis nous atteignons Moose Creek, un roadhouse, au milieu de nulle part.
Tout est un peu délabré, mais l'ensemble est plutôt sympathique. Après le plein d'essence, il est possible de se restaurer et de gouter aux bonnes pâtisseries locales, aux baies de la région.
Sur l'arrière, dans la forêt épaisse fréquentée par des ours, des cabanes de trappeur rustiques, sans eau ni électricité, permettent d'envisager de passer une nuit typique ici. C'était mon intention première lors de la préparation du voyage ; mais mon épouse, qui les avait visitées avec moi il y a quelques années, a opposé un véto formel.
L'ensemble offre cependant le téléphone à la clientèle. Même si les "cabines" sont inhabituelles, pour rester à l'écart des ours.
Le voyage se poursuit. J'avais envisagé également de programmer un détour vers Mayo et Minto, par le "silver trail", piste célèbre. Mais cela aurait demandé une journée de plus, et je ne suis pas convaincu de l'intérêt de cette extension.
Nous arrivons donc en fin d'AM à Dawson City, un village particulièrement typique, resté au 19ième siècle, mais avec infiniment moins de touristes que Skagway par exemple.
Nous nous repérons au bac sur le Yukon (que nous traverserons dans deux jours), et surtout à l'énorme glissement de terrain. Notre logement est dans ce quartier.
Nous avons réservé au "Whitehouse Cabins", petit établissement pas trop cher que nous connaissons déjà.
Notre cabine est juste au bord du Yukon.
Elle est très rustique, et rappelle une cabane de 1900. Les lits comportent, en guise de sommier et de matelas, une toile tendue sur un chassis en bois, recouverte d'une paillasse végétale de 3 cm d'épaisseur. Mais le bungalow est chauffé, il dispose d'une kitchenette, et surtout d'une salle de bain avec eau chaude : madame est satisfaite.
De mon coté j'apprécie d'une part le WiFi (inconnu au 19ième), d'autre part le barbecue extérieur (qui n'existait pas lors de notre dernier voyage). Ce sera donc encore filets de saumon grillés tous les soirs.
Après le diner, comme le jour s'éternise et qu'il est impossible de se coucher de bonne heure, nous partons faire un tour en ville, du coté du "Diamond Tooth Gerties", un cabaret d'époque qui abrite toujours un spectacle parisien de French Cancan, comme au bon vieux temps.
Le spectacle, à tendance humoristique, burelesque même, comprend de nombreux numéros, certains très bien faits. Et il se termine par des concours divers, avec la participation très active du public : le spectacle est alors dans la salle, les Américains étant vraiment sans complexe. Par ailleurs, dans un coin, des tables de jeu de casino sont très entourées. Il est aussi possible de diner sur place.
Quand nous sortons, à 23h passé, la ville est encore bien éclairée par le soleil.
Nous décidons alors de monter au "Midnight Dome", petite colline dominant la ville, à 10 minutes de voiture. L'intérêt est d'y apercevoir le soleil de minuit, bien que situé très légèrement au Sud du cercle polaire, car nous sommes en altitude.
En haut, nous retrouvons quelques voitures, souvent des couples qui veulent vivre ensemble cet instant magique. L'endroit est très calme et nous dominons toute la vallée du Yukon, maintenant dans l'ombre.
il est minuit pile.
Nous avons également une vue sur l'agglomération, mais aussi sur ses environs, défigurés par la recherche de l'or.
Retour à notre cabane, dodo.
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Au réveil, nous réalisons que cette journée peut devenir pour nous très particulière : nous allons enfin (peut-être) devenir riches, car j'ai bien l'intention, moi aussi, d'aller prospecter, et pourquoi pas trouver, LA pépite du XXIième siècle.
Je demande au gérant de notre bungalow de nous prêter le nécessaire du parfait chercheur d'or : pelle, mais surtout gamelle (il faut dire "pan"). Et ainsi, parfaitement équipé, nous nous dirigeons, via une piste sans difficulté, vers le ruisseau Bonanza, à une quinzaine de km de là.
Nous traversons de vastes zones ravagées, retournées par l'exploitation industrielle. Par endroit, la nature tente de reprendre le dessus.
Le temps des mineurs d'antan est bien révolu. Chaque concession est délimitée avec précision, protégée un panneau "défense de pénétrer sous peine de mort". Nous croisons bulldozers, et puissants engins de dragage, encore en activité.
Nous apercevons aussi une drague monumentale en bois (plus de cinquante mètres de long), qui pouvait se déplacer toute seule sur le terrain (ou flotter sur l'eau) ; mais qui en tout cas écumait tout le sous-sol de manière systématique sur plusieurs mètres. Elle n'est plus utilisée depuis quelques dizaines d'années, mais peut être visitée.
Nous longeons ensuite le fameux ruisseau Bonanza, et avons une pensée émue en arrivant au "lieu de la découverte".
Un peu plus loin, une concession, gérée par l'office du tourisme de Dawson City, est ouverte gratuitement aux touristes. C'est ici qu'il y a une quinzaine d'années, j'avais trouvé une pépite (vraiment très petite, je l'ai égarée depuis). Mais plus rien les fois suivantes. Cependant, je sens que cette année sera la bonne … ; Annie est plus sceptique. Pourquoi ce défaitisme à priori ?
Des "chercheurs" sont déjà au travail.
Il est temps de s'y mettre.
Cependant, au bout d'une demi-heure, alors que je n'ai encore rien trouvé, je me vois contraint de renoncer : j'ai froid aux pieds !
Encore raté !
Tant pis, ce sera pour une autre fois. Annie bien sûr jubile ! Nous rentrons tristement picniquer dans notre "palace".
Je profite de ces vues pour faire remarquer au lecteur une particularité intéressante (les spécialistes ont probablement une explication). Tous les ruisseaux que nous rencontrons, au Yukon ou en Alaska, dans lesquels des prospecteurs recherchent de l'or, sont toujours parcourus par une eau de couleur marron, comme ferrugineuse. Cela semble être un bon indice, avis aux chercheurs.
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L'après midi est consacrée à une promenade à pied de la ville.
Elle est limitée sur un coté par le Yukon, très large à ce niveau, par la montagne de l'autre.
Les voies de circulation, bordées par des trottoirs en bois, sont soit perpendiculaires (ce sont des rues), soit parallèles (ce sont des avenues) au fleuve. Elles sont en terre, non revétues, mais demeurent en excellent état. Nous nous souvenons en effet dans le passé d'avoir vécu ici durant une période de pluie, les rues de la ville étaient aplanies et remises à neuf tous les matins par le passage d'un lourd bulldozer municipal.
le Magasin Général, finalement bien mieux achalandé que ce que je pensais,
une maison d'habitation typique, comme il y en a beaucoup,
le théâtre
un hôtel moderne (mais cher)
un restaurant
Et enfin (nous nous imaginons sans effort dans un album de Lucky Luke) :
le journal local
un hôtel typique
une avenue (en terre)
Mais, le sol, dégelant en surface sur quelques dizaines de centimètres en été ou lorsqu'on chauffe, se déforme irrégulièrement, et certains bâtiments mal isolés, pâtissent du permafrost et ont dû être condamnés.
Dans la partie haute du village, sur la 8ième avenue, nous retrouvons, bien conservées, proches l'une de l'autre, deux habitations remarquables :
- +- le "deux pièces", où a vécu jusqu'en 1912 le poète Robert Service, surnommé le barde du Yukon (il a ensuite émigré en France où il vécut à Paris dans la Quartier Latin, puis en Bretagne où il est enterré aujourd'hui).
cabane de Robert Service
- +- la modeste cabane de Jack London, un des premiers Stampeders du Yukon. Il arriva (via Skagway et le Chilkoot) à Dawson à l'automne 1897, mais, atteint par le scorbut, il a dû quitter la région dès la fin de l'été suivant. Il emprunta alors la route Nord, descendant le fleuve Yukon jusqu'à la mer de Behring, et de là trouva un bateau pour San Francisco. Il n'a pas fait fortune : les quelques pépites qu'il a pu vendre à son retour lui ont été payées moins de 5$ (de l'époque). Mais cette expédition lui a procuré l'inspiration pour de nombreux récits ou romans merveilleux sur la nature sauvage. Ce furent ses premiers réels succès. A coté de la cabane, se tient le "grenier" surélevé où London conservait sa nourriture à l'abri des ours. On peut voir que l'intérieur de la cabane est particulièrement "spartiate". La couchette parait infiniment moins moelleuse que celle de notre logement du jour, pourtant très rustique. On voit encore ses outils de "chercheur d'or".
cabane de Jack London
Enfin, après le diner, nous retournons en ville sur la première avenue (celle qui longe le fleuve), car nous avons repéré un glacier qui fabrique du "frozen yogourt" (notre vice).
Des sièges en devanture s'offrent à nous, sous un agréable soleil déclinant (si peu). Nous y demeurons un long moment.
Le glacier a beaucoup de succès. De nombreux 4x4 rustiques stoppent à proximité, et leurs passagers (des chercheurs d'or du voisinage ?, des ouvriers des grandes compagnies ?) achètent comme nous leur désert du soir. Certaines glaces sont vraiment énormes (1 kg ?).
Nous constatons alors une loi toujours vérifiée : plus l'acheteur est gros et gras, plus sa glace est imposante.
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J'aime tout particulièrement le mélange impressions personnelles/explications historiques
Effectivement, un voyage dans ces contrées doit faire fantasmer. Et pour cela, il faut se souvenir en permanence de l'histoire. Aussi je la rappelle de temps à autres (parfois trop).
Quant à mes "impressions personnelles", je dirais mes digressions, ou mes commentaires, elles font intimement partie du voyage.
Je les présente donc parfois ici, même si j'ai probablement tort ; car comme toutes les opinions, elles sont personnelles, parfois même partiales. Et donc critiquables.
J'espère qu'elles ne choquent pas trop, en tout cas ne font pas fuir les rares lecteurs.
Hélas, ce ne sera pas encore pour 2012 car nous devrions être à Seattle vers le 10 avril jusqu'au premiers jours de Juin (j'attends nos nouveaux passeports pour réserver les billets) . Et la période ne s'y prête pas . Il faudra bien qu'un jour (mais rapidement car nous prenons aussi de l'âge) mes enfants (et petits-enfants) ne viennent pas en été en France pour nous permettre d'y aller à cette période !!!
En attendant je "rêve" devant votre récit . Et j'essaie de préparer un autre périple qui soit plus en rapport avec la période de notre présence , mais je dois aussi jongler avec les vacances scolaires des USA afin de profiter des petits-enfants . Cela fait beaucoup de "contraintes", mais je ne vais pas me plaindre !!!!
Bonne continuation pour vous.
Liliane
Je suis avec délectation ce carnet passionnant et passionné sur cette région qui fait partie de ma (trop longue 🤪) wishlist en Amérique du Nord...
Merci pour toutes tes références historiques, j'ai l'impression d'être replongé dans une atmosphère à la Jack London. Ce carnet représente un énorme travail je trouve, et je t'en remercie très vivement 🙂.
Je trouve que vous avez eu de la chance (jusque là) avec le temps... Bien joué 😉 !
Nous nous réveillons sur le coup de 6h, et remarquons de suite un nouveau message sous la porte :
Votre mission pour les deux prochains jours, si vous l'acceptez, sera de rejoindre Homer en Alaska le plus rapidement possible. Attention, la route est longue, ne musardez pas en chemin.
Ce message s'autodétruira … …
... pfeuuttt.
Et comment, bien sûr que nous l'acceptons. Nous n'oublions pas que après-demain nous devons sans faute rendre visite à nos amis, les ours de Katmai, que nous rejoindrons en hydravion depuis Homer.
Par contre, "ne musardez pas en chemin", ils sont marrants dans les bureaux. Savent-ils au moins que ce matin nous allons emprunter la fameuse "Top of the World Highway", et que ce sera peut-être la dernière fois de ma vie que je la prendrai. D'autant plus que ce matin, le soleil est de la partie, le temps est clair, alors que les fois précédentes, soit il pleuvait, soit le temps était bouché.
Nous nous préparons bien vite, et quittons notre cabine de Dawson City vers 7h.
Bien que le temps soit magnifique, des petits nuages de brume flottent encore sur le Yukon, mais ils ne vont pas tarder à se lever. Nous rejoignons le bac sur le fleuve, à 50 mètres de "chez nous". Il se présente quelques minutes plus tard.
Nous embarquons (c'est gratuit), traversons le Yukon, très large à cet endroit ; nous ne pouvons nous empêcher de jeter un dernier regard ému sur Dawson City, que nous quittons.
La "Top of the World Hwy" commence de l'autre coté du fleuve. C'est une piste, ouverte seulement en été, longue de 300 km, qui se parcourt en 7 heures environ. Mais la partie "scénique" se termine à Chicken, à 180 km d'ici, et prend une bonne demi-journée (la suite, goudronnée, ne présente pas d'intérêt). Un poste frontière croquignolesque, à peu près à mi-chemin, nous permet de pénétrer aux Etats Unis.
La piste est une longue piste de crête, avec des vues magnifiques sur les chaines de montagnes environnantes. Coté canadien, elle est excellente, avec même parfois des portions en bitume. D'ailleurs, plus tard dans la journée, elle sera empruntée par de nombreux camping cars (qui ne se laissent pas doubler facilement) !
Enfin, vers 10h, nous atteignons des baraquements, c'est le poste frontière entre le Canada et les Etats Unis, un petit poste frontière entre deux grands pays !
"Poker Creek, deux habitants" : le douanier, jovial (il nous propose le café avant de tamponner nos passeports), me confirme que ce sont lui et sa femme. Quoi qu'il en soit, ce poste frontière est célèbre, c'est le poste frontière le plus septentrional des USA.
La partie US de la piste est de plus mauvaise qualité (jusqu'à Chicken au moins), avec de nombreux nids de poule, mais rien de bien difficile. Elle est également très belle.
Nous rencontrons un peu plus loin une autre zone habitée : un roadhouse/poste d'essence.
Le prix du gallon dans cette station est plus du double de ce qu'il est actuellement en Californie. Pourtant l'Alaska produit la majeure partie du pétrole de tout le pays !
Nous poursuivons. La vie sauvage est très présente.
Je dois préciser ici un point bien troublant. Mon GPS de route, un TomTom, fait des siennes. Autant au Canada, même dans les zones les plus reculées du Yukon, il était précis, autant en Alaska il est approximatif.
La carte est bien exacte, toutes les tortuosités de la piste sont bien indiquées, mais c'est le calage de la carte sur ses coordonnées GPS qui est erroné. Et cela de manière aléatoire, l'écart est souvent de plus d'un mile ! Aussi, en permanence, l'engin nous demande de rejoindre la route à plusieurs centaines de mètres de là (selon lui), puis de tourner à droite (ou à gauche). Ceci est particulièrement énervant. Aussi je coupe le son, et passe à plus grande échelle.
Il faut dire que pour un tel voyage, l'utilité du GPS est très limitée, car nous ne risquons pas de nous tromper de route (ou de piste) : il n'y en a qu'une, et elle est parfaitement tracée ! Cependant il est agréable de savoir en permanence où nous en sommes, et combien de temps il reste à conduire.
En fait, cette erreur, nous la retrouverons partout dans l'état de l'Alaska (elle disparaitra dès que nous repasserons au Canada), à l'exception des grandes agglomérations (en fait, Anchorage et sa grande banlieue, mais c'est le seul endroit où la fonction "guidage" a quelque intérêt). Le GPS nous situe toujours à quelques centaines de mètres près.
D'où provient cette erreur permanente ?
- Probablement pas de la cartographie utilisée, qu'il serait facile de recaler avec précision.
- Peut-être existe-t-il une imprécision de principe du GPS sous les hautes latitudes (les trajectoires des satellites ayant été choisies inclinées, optimisées pour maximiser la densité d'information et la précision dans les latitudes plus fréquentées) ? Mais alors, il faudrait imaginer qu'il existe un dispositif de recalage automatique dans la région d'Anchorage, et au Yukon.
- Peut-être aussi, l'administration américaine a-t-elle exigé cette imprécision, l'Alaska, proche de la Russie ayant longtemps été une zone hyper stratégique.
Nous parvenons enfin, peu après midi, à Chicken, un village folklorique d'une vingtaine d'habitants.
Chicken a été fondé par des chercheurs d'or, et certains perpétuent encore cette activité de nos jours. Ici aussi, à coté des exploitations artisanales, on retrouve les grandes compagnies, qui utilisent des dragues mécaniques puissantes.
Chicken est aussi une halte touristique (?), avec un camping, un gift shop et un poste d'essence.
On peut trouver dans le papier ci après (photographié sur place) toutes les explications sur le village, son histoire, sa vie. D'abord, pourquoi le village s'appelle-t-il comme ça ?
Nous rejoignons le camping, quasi désert, pour notre picnic quotidien. Un ruisseau aurifère (remarquez la couleur de l'eau) coule à proximité, et les rives ont été "travaillées" sur une grande largeur, retournées à plusieurs reprises.
Fireweed
Notre voiture a souffert de la poussière de la "Top of the World". Nous devons envisager une toilette pour paraitre respectable avant de rejoindre la civilisation.
Je repère alors une piste qui traverse le ruisseau : cela fera l'affaire.
Nous reprenons la route (bien meilleure à partir d'ici, goudronnée), et retrouvons plus tard, peu avant Tok, l'Alaska Highway, et la rivière Tanana.
Tok est une étape traditionnelle sur l'Alcan, avec plusieurs campings ou motels, et quelques restaurants (mais ici aussi, certains ont tristement fermé leurs portes).
Cependant cette fois, sous la pression du message de ce matin ("ne musardez pas en route"), nous décidons d'aller loin. Nous pensons faire étape à Glennallen, en principe à 2h30 de route de là. Mais les travaux de réfection de la route seront nombreux, incessants même. Nous n'atteindrons Glennallen qu'à près de 19h.
Nous trouvons sans peine un camping dont j'avais noté l'adresse, le Northernights Campground. Outre des emplacements sympas dans la forêt (aucune tente, que de gros et luxueux RV), il propose deux cabanes simples, en bois. Par chance elles sont libres ce soir toutes les deux ; nous en payons une. On nous apprend alors que deux soirs par semaine, le propriétaire réunit ses hôtes campeurs à 19h45 pour partager leur expérience, et surtout gouter à un dessert typique préparé par sa femme. La vie n'est-elle pas belle, aujourd'hui est un jour à dessert !
Nous rejoignons très vite notre cabine (très sommaire. Il y a bien un micro-onde, mais aucune table ou chaise), préparons puis, assis sur le lit, avalons un peu de riz au thon ; mais nous conservons un grosse place pour le dessert.
Nous revenons à la réception, et rencontrons les autres voyageurs. Les desserts sont en fait toutes sortes de gâteaux ou tartes typiques, souvent aux baies de la foret. Leur gâteau à la rhubarbe est un délice (Annie note la recette) ; nous regrettons finalement d'avons diné avant de venir, tant c'est bon, copieux et varié ici ; mais en principe, un dessert termine bien un repas, n'est-ce pas ?
Enfin, nous discutons longuement avec tous les autres voyageurs. Toutes les expériences, les conseils que nous recevons, seront utiles. Chacun raconte ses anecdotes de voyage, nous visionnons quelques photos. Les gens sont très sympathiques avec nous, car, même si certains viennent également de très loin, nous sommes les plus exotiques. Tous veulent que je parle de Paris, de la French Riviera, ou des châteaux de la Loire (je pense qu'il a dû y avoir récemment un reportage sur La France dans le dernier numéro de leur revue préférée de Camping Car).
Tôt le lendemain nous quittons Glennallen.
Un embranchement (la Richardson Hwy) conduit vers le Sud à Valdez (nous emprunterons cette route lors de notre retour). Mais pour nous aujourd'hui, c'est direction Anchorage, cap à l'Ouest.
La seule halte que nous nous permettons (toujours le message d'hier !), c'est pour prendre un café dans un roadhouse qui sert aussi de lieu de rassemblement pour tous les habitants des environs.
Nous continuons la longue route. Nous longeons sur notre gauche un magnifique glacier, mais nous ne nous arrêtons pas (le message !).
La circulation devient de plus en plus dense, il est évident que nous approchons d'une grande métropole américaine. Passé Palmer, notre route devient d'ailleurs autoroute (à l'Européenne, avec voies séparées).
Cela devient stressant, car les routes sauvages et désertes du grand Nord, on s'y habitue très vite. On retrouve avec peine les feux rouges.
Il est l'heure du picnic, et pour cela, à Anchorage, j'ai mes habitudes. Ce sera sur la rive du lac Hood (le plus grand aéroport pour hydravion du monde), où le spectacle est permanent.
Puis sans perdre un instant (le message toujours !) nous reprenons le volant, en direction de Homer (4h de route), via la péninsule de Kenai.
Cette péninsule de Kenai est belle c'est vrai, mais ce que j'aime moins, c'est qu'elle est encore plus célèbre et fréquentée qu'elle est belle. Il y a énormément de trafic, beaucoup de 4x4, tous trainant un bateau. Car cette région, les rives de la rivière Kenai en particulier, est considérée comme un haut lieu mondial de la pêche sportive au saumon en rivière, surtout durant les différentes périodes de rush des saumons (c'est le cas vers le 15 Juillet). Des bouchons se forment aux carrefours dans les agglomérations ; celles-ci sont largement pourvues en grands magasins (Walmart, Safeway, …) et en commodités. L'Alaska Sauvage, ce n'est pas définitivement plus ici.
Mais passé la région de Soldotna, les pêcheurs se font plus rares, car nous sommes quand même à plus de 100 km d'Ancorage.
Le décor change. De l'autre coté du bras de mer nommé "Cook Inlet", nous apercevons la péninsule de l'Alaska, qui se poursuit jusqu'aux confins de la Russie par le long chapelet des îles Aléoutiennes. L'ensemble est dominée par une une belle chaine de montagne, avec de nombreux volcans : l'Aleutian Range (nous les reverrons demain lors de notre vol vers Katmai). Nous passons rapidement près d'un ancien village russe très sympa où nous avions dormi il y a 4 ans, Ninilchick. Au large nous reconnaissons le magnifique Mt Redoubt, un beau volcan, aujourd'hui paisible.
Mt Reboubt, 2011
Mais en 1986, il avait été célèbre par une très violente éruption, qui a déposé beaucoup de cendre sur toute la ville d'Anchorage. Tous s'en souviennent encore.
Mt Reboubt, éruption de 1986
Un peu plus loin, à Anchor Point, nous dépassons le point routier le plus à l'Ouest de tous les Etats Unis continentaux.
Enfin, vers 17h, nous parvenons à proximité d'Homer. Nous apercevons au loin le fameux Spit d'Homer.
La ville se compose en effet de deux parties : la partie principale, sur les pentes du rivage, avec tous les bâtiments principaux, et une partie que j'appellerai "folklorique" développée dans les années 60 par des communautés hippies, assez peuplée aujourd'hui, située sur le Spit. Le Spit est une langue de terre longue de 8 km (100 m de large, altitude 6-7 mètres maximum). Elle a probablement était formée dans les temps anciens par un puissant tsunami.
Mais les autorités sont très inquiètes, car ce que la mer a formé, elle peut aussi le détruire. On craint en particulier un puissant tsunami (avec vague de 10 mètres) qui pourrait être la conséquence de l'éruption soudaine d'un volcan maritime (probablement le Mt Augustine que nous survolerons demain). D'ailleurs, lors d'un tremblement de terre dans les années 60, beaucoup de dégâts ont été constatés. Mais c'est une zone très touristique, le risque n'est pas précisemment identifié (comme pour le tsunami de Fukushima), et il est difficile de déloger tous ces gens.
le Spit d'Homer
Quoi qu'il en soit, nous devons y passer ce soir, c'est notre mission (impossible).
Nous devons en effet confirmer notre vol de demain, et toutes les agences touristiques sont sur le Spit.
Le halibut est appelé chez nous en Europe le flétan.
Nous progressons sur le Spit.
Vers le fond, le port
A proximité les meilleurs trophées du jour sont exposés, avec leurs pécheurs.
Et juste à coté du port un petit "lagon" est réservé aux pécheurs de saumon à la ligne.
Le produit de la pêche est dépecé sur place sur des tables faites pour cela, préparé en filet par les pécheurs eux-mêmes, puis est stocké dans les lourds congélateurs qu'ils font suivre dans leur camping car (oméga3 garanti pour tout l'hiver).
Remarquez la couleur rouge éclatant du bon saumon sauvage de l'Alaska. C'est très triste pour nous européens gavés aux saumons d'élevage, insipides et beiges.
Nous achetons d'ailleurs pour ce soir et demain soir deux beaux pavés bien frais de saumon et de halibut.
Nous dénichons enfin les bureaux de la Société avec laquelle nous volerons demain.
Nous devons passer préalablement à la pesée, pour équilibrer et préparer le plan de chargement de l'appareil.
Un saloon typique (typique de quoi, en fait ?) nous ouvre ses portes. L'intérieur est tapissé de billets de 1$ laissés en souvenir par les clients.
Puis nous rejoignons la ville plus conventionnelle.
Un marché écolo se tient au bord de la route.
Les légumes proposés sont énormes. En effet, bien que l'Alaska ne soit pas considéré comme un pays très chaud, il est très propice à la culture durant les deux mois d'été, quand le soleil donne presque 24h par jour. Les fleurs, les plantes adorent cela. C'est d'ailleurs en Alaska que poussent les légumes les plus volumineux de la terre (voir le livre des records).
Nous nous faisons ensuite une courte promenade en voiture le long de la baie Kachemak, dans laquelle se jettent de gros glaciers.
Kachemak Bay
Mais nous avons réservé une cabane pour plusieurs nuits et il est temps de penser à en prendre possession ; j'ai noté l'adresse. Mais nous serons retardés, à proximité, par un magnifique spectacle : un nid de "bald eagle", garni.
Puis au bout de quelques minutes, une petite tête sort également du nid.
Nous accédons finalement à notre logement vers 20h. Ce sera une petite maisonnette en bois (une cabane, quoi). Comme souvent, elle est sommaire, mais bien agréable. Le chauffage est efficace, c'est le principal nous en aurons besoin.
La cabane n'est pas étanche car les planches ne sont pas jointives : nous remarquons, dans la salle de bain une plante extérieure qui a choisi de se développer … à l'intérieur.
Quoi qu'il en soit, le barbecue habituel est installé sur la terrasse, et Annie est déjà aux commandes : les saumons n'ont qu'à bien se tenir …
Ce matin, nous nous réveillons nerveux : ce moment était très attendu. Ce devrait être une très bonne journée, avec de nombreuses rencontres sauvages. Nous la passerons à Brooks River, dans le Katmai NP, au milieu des ours.
C'est la deuxième fois que nous y allons. En 2007, nous y avons passé un merveilleux moment, une journée dont nous nous souviendrons toute la vie. Nous souhaitons la revivre une fois encore.
Il y a 4 ans, nous avions accédé à Brooks depuis Anchorage, d'abord par une ligne régulière en bimoteur jusqu'à King Salmon (1h), puis en petit hydravion (15') jusqu'à Brooks Camps. Le plan est différent cette année. Nous rejoindrons directement Nakneck Lake (à proximité immédiate de Brooks Falls) depuis Homer par un vol direct de 2h en hydravion. Je pense que c'est le meilleur choix, car l'hydravion vole à basse altitude, et nous survolons sur le trajet des spots exceptionnels. D'abord les volcans de l'Aleutian Range, puis nous longeons l'île de Kodiak, nous passeons au dessus de la McNeil River, et arriverons par l'Est dans le parc de Katmai.
Le RV est fixé à 7h30 sur le lac qui constitue la base d'hydravion d'Homer, à 500 m de notre cabane.
Notre pilote, chemise orange, devant sa "cargaison" de touristes.
Nous sommes 10 dans le monomoteur. Je choisis la place du fond, afin de mieux surveiller la situation.
décollage depuis Homer
Nous apercevons déjà deux volcans sur la droite de l'appareil, de l'autre coté du Cook Inlet : au centre le Mont Redoubt, déjà aperçu hier (celui qui était en éruption en 1986), et à l'extrême gauche en limite d'image, le Mt Iliamna.
Mt Redoubt
Mt Iliamna
La mer est parsemée de petits ilots.
Puis nous passons à courte distance du Mt Augustine (celui qui fait peser un risque de tsunami dans la région). Il forme une île sur l'océan, coiffée d'un cône régulier. C'est magnifique !
Mt Augustine
En regardant de plus près, nous apercevons une activité volcanique indéniable : un panache de fumée s'échappe de la caldera, au sommet.
le volcan fume
Nous laissons ensuite sur la gauche de l'avion le rivage enneigé de l'île de Kodiak (également très réputée pour ses ours).
Nous parvenons ensuite au dessus de la terre ferme de la presqu'ile aléoutienne, que nous atteignons au niveau de l'embouchure en delta de la Kemai River.
Kemai River
Kemai River
L'avion doit reprendre de l'altitude pour passer une nouvelle chaine de montagne, assez haute.
lac bleu sur glacier blanc
montagne avec caldéra
vallée profonde
lac dans caldéra
Nous longeons maintenant l'imposant Mt Katmai, qui culmine à plus de 2000m. Il a fait l'objet en 1912 d'un phénomène volcanique ultra violent. Le paysage des environs a été complètement remodelé, des sommets ont disparu. Mais la conséquence majeure de cette éruption, est que de la lave provenant de la même chambre magmatique s'est échappée par une énorme cheminée adjacente, et a créé une nouvelle montagne, le volcan Novarupta.
L'explosion du Novarupta en 1912, concomitante à celle du Mt Katmai, constitue (avec l'éruption du Pinatubo aux Philippines) le phénomène naturel le plus violent du XXième siècle. Le volume expulsé est environ 50 fois plus important que celui de l'éruption du Mt St Helens. Elle a eu des conséquences sur toute la planète (cendres, obscurcissement de l'atmosphère, refroidissement climatique) pendant plusieurs années. Certains lui attribuent même une part de responsabilité dans l'avènement de la guerre de 1914.
Il est remarquable de constater qu'il ne reste aujourd'hui quasiment plus rien de ce volcan Novarupta, sinon un dôme de lave très bas. Mais une énorme caldera s'est formée, englobant ce qui est aujourd'hui "la vallée des 10.000 fumées", et surtout tout le parc naturel de Katmai, qui est finalement situé à une altitude assez basse.
D'ailleurs, passée (à quelques mètres près) une dernière crête, l'avion plonge littéralement dans cette énorme caldéra. Le paysage devient vert, avec des lacs partout.
Curieusement, certaines zones rappellent même étrangement la région tropicale des Iles Palau dans le Pacifique.
Palau, ou Alaska ?
Enfin nous amerrissons sur le lac Naknek.
Sur la berge, un responsable du comité d'accueil nous attend déjà :
Un autre semble nous montrer où garer notre hydravion sur la plage.
Nous sommes impatients de débarquer.
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+ =+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=POUR LA SUITE DU VOYAGE, CLIQUEZ ICI
Arggghh ! Tu t'es arrêté juste au moment où cela devenait particulièrement palpitant !🤪
Vite la suite !
J'adore ton, carnet, je n'en perds pas une miette ! Merci !
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area).
In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
Here we go with this second travel journal dedicated to the American West! It’s a must when you love it! 😊
We had left off in the charming town of Bisbee, which once thrived thanks to its copper mines. Today, mining is a thing of the past, and the town seems a bit sleepy.
Unfortunately, I didn’t dig deep enough on-site to answer all the questions my observations raised. Guess I’ll have to *dig* into the subject a bit more... no pun intended! 😊
Let’s hop back in the car and head a little further south to check out the esplanade that offers a view—if you can call it that—of the impressive open-pit mine.
Then, it’s off to the Lowell neighborhood.
Preserved almost exactly as it was, this area must’ve been bustling in its heyday. The vintage cars are still around, storefronts and signs look like they’re straight out of another era, and the whole place has a pretty amazing vibe. You’d almost think you were on Route 66!
Here, we’re not just discovering an old neighborhood—it’s a little slice of American history. And, a detail that’s great for my physical health: the area isn’t too spread out.
Lucky me! 😊
I won’t post too many photos here since I think I can turn them into a future photo exhibit. Between these and some shots from Route 66, I should have more than enough material! So, let’s keep a few under wraps... to preserve the surprise. 😊
I love islands. So it’s no surprise that the Azores have been catching my eye for a few years now. The first time I suggested them to my dear partner back in 2021, he preferred the Lofoten Islands—an excellent choice, as it turned out, since we got to visit them with hardly any crowds. But for various reasons, the opportunity didn’t come up again in the following years. Until last year, that is. But by then, we’d left it too late—too late for the Azores, I mean—and the choice of accommodations on Flores and São Jorge was extremely limited. We decided to skip it without even looking at car rentals. So this year, we booked our flights, lodgings, and cars well in advance (between December of last year and early this year).
The Azores consist of nine islands, so you have to make choices. I quickly ruled out São Miguel, which deserves a week all to itself: from reading various blogs, some travelers seemed disappointed after visiting the other islands, even feeling it lacked the charm unique to the Azores. True or not, that was reason enough to leave it out.
In the end, we wanted to go to Flores for its lush nature (and because it’s reputed to be the most breathtaking), to São Jorge for its rural/nature vibe, and to Terceira for its cultural side and its *impérios* (more on that later). With the time we had, we could add another island without rushing. We like to take our time and wander a bit. Generally, whether it’s a viewpoint or a hike, we always spend more time than everyone else. Pico won out over Faial thanks to its wine culture. And of course, there’s Corvo, which is usually visited as a day trip from Flores. I thought it’d be nice to spend the night there to experience the atmosphere once most tourists had left. I hesitated between one or two nights and ultimately went with two (so we wouldn’t be rushed by the boat schedule). It was an excellent decision.
Here’s how it all panned out:
August 25: departure for Terceira via Lisbon at 7:40 AM;
August 25–29: Terceira;
August 29: flight to Corvo. It was supposed to take half a day, and we were meant to arrive in the early afternoon, but between schedule changes and delays, it ended up taking almost the whole day;
August 29–31: Corvo;
August 31: boat to Flores around 8:30 AM;
August 31–September 5: Flores;
September 5: flight to Faial in the early afternoon (originally scheduled for the morning, but the times changed)—visit to Horta;
September 6: boat to São Jorge around 9:00 AM;
September 6–11: São Jorge;
September 11: boat to Pico at 11:15 AM;
September 11–16: Pico;
September 16: flight to Paris via Lisbon from Pico around 10:30 AM.
We had to juggle a bit to optimize the prices of our flight tickets from Paris and the inter-island travel.
"So, my little wanderers, back at the decks? What’s this mystery destination you’ve got in store for us at the start of the year?"
Yes, the schoolyard bell’s ringing again! We’re hitting the road... or rather, the skies! At first glance, our destination might surprise more than a few. First off, simply because I was here exactly twenty years ago, and I don’t usually like retracing my own footsteps. Secondly, because the name of this place screams mass tourism—basically the opposite of what Flo and I look for.
Despite that, in this land of backsheesh, I’d promised myself I’d come back one day to experience it my way. And since Flo told me, during our wanderer chats, that this destination straddling Africa and the Middle East was in her top 2 travel dreams, the stars aligned for this roots-style trip to quickly make it onto our pharaonic festivities program! Unless you’re totally clueless in general knowledge, you’ve probably guessed by now—we’re off to Egypt! Of course, a few classics will be on our itinerary, but above all, we want to soak up a culture that can’t be appreciated in four-star resorts or on a Nile cruise boat. And let’s be clear, these next two weeks won’t be a walk in the park—neither for our two daughters who are joining us, nor for our bodies!
And that’s clear from the get-go: after our first flight, eight hours of trying (and failing) to sleep on Milan airport’s metal seats, our second flight, landing, passport stamps, our Uber ride, and our first Cairo kilometers, we finally drop our exhaustion at the little guesthouse we booked in Giza. Doesn’t all that energy deserve a little reward?
Oh, absolutely! And here it is: a full-on slap in the face for everyone! But just look at this view from our hotel terrace? For 20 € a night for four, even with this incredible view, I figured the room must be pretty shabby, right? Nope... Is the staff rude, then? Nope... Okay, so what’s the catch? You’re gonna tell me breakfast is included too? Well, yes! Honestly, this Egypt trip is off to a great start.
And the rest of the afternoon, spent rubbing shoulders with locals, only confirmed this vibe. After digesting our pyramid view, we dove into the hustle and bustle of our neighborhood with the goal of exchanging money, eating at street stalls, and testing the hospitality of the locals. Ten out of ten!
Eight little sun breads with baba ganoush and falafel? 80 pounds, or 1.5 €. A dozen Middle Eastern pastries? Same! 80 pounds! Two hawawshis, those little pita breads stuffed with meat and spices? 10 pounds each, or about twenty cents! Not to mention all those smiles and free "welcomes" left and right!!!
What a welcome! We end this first day with a sunset over the three sisters of Giza—where we’ll obviously be gawking tomorrow...
I’m sharing a little recap of this new 4-week trip to China—nothing fancy, just my experience.
We’re taking advantage of the extended visa exemption to return to China for the 4th time. I loved last summer’s trip so much that I’m a bit worried about being disappointed this year. Plus, I’ve had a few hiccups before this departure: my WeChat account got blocked, and I couldn’t recover it (luckily, Alipay still works fine); I couldn’t verify my 12306 account for weeks; Trip.com failed to book our second train; and I’ve got an injury that’ll slow me down during the trip... Ugh, I hate starting a trip with these kinds of issues. Then, oh surprise! Just before leaving, my 12306 account got verified! Super easy to use from that point on—I could book a few train tickets without fees.
We’re sticking with Free’s e-SIMs, which work great in China.
August 2–3
Anyway, on the morning of August 2nd, we took the RER to CDG. As usual, we couldn’t check in online. It’s always a bit frustrating, especially since we didn’t have any checked luggage. We flew with Air China. We arrived at the check-in counter at 9:50 AM, 2 hours and 40 minutes before the flight. The line for our check-in stretched 300 meters across the airport in both directions. What a joke!! We spent 1 hour and 45 minutes in that line just to reach the counter and get our boarding passes. By then, it was 11:35 AM, and boarding had already started at 11:20 AM. The screens showed a 25-minute walk to our gate—on the other side of the airport, of course—plus we had to go through passport control and security... Long story short, the plane didn’t leave without us 🙂 We boarded among the last passengers, and we took off at 12:30 PM. We’d flown Air China four times before, but this time, it felt *really* low-cost. The check-in chaos, the cramped seats (12 seats per row), no music by artists known outside China, mediocre food, and a boarding area at Beijing Airport with only 10 seats—worthy of Ryanair or EasyJet. And yet, the price was sky-high. Again, D.’s vacation requests were denied outside of July and August, so we’re traveling from August 2nd to 30th. We couldn’t have picked a worse time for inflated prices, and with the situation in Iran, we got hit with a 390 € fuel surcharge. I’ve never paid so much for flights—I felt like I’d bought business class, but nope, far from it!!
We landed in Beijing around 4:15 AM. It was 28°C with thick fog. We drove and drove and drove for 20 minutes, as usual in Beijing. Then we went through a first check, a second check, a third check, and waited for our connecting flight at 6:40 AM. A small Airbus A320, but way more space than in the Boeing 777 from the first flight. We landed in Kunming, Yunnan, around 10:15 AM in the rain.
We headed to the subway. You can’t pay at the machines with Alipay here either, so we set up the transport QR code directly in Alipay to scan at the subway gates. The process is a bit long the first time if you haven’t entered your info before, but once it’s done, it’s *so* much easier! We took Line 6 to the terminus for 6 yuan each.
We’d booked a hotel nearby, on the 16th floor. It’s actually studios on different floors of a huge residential building. The view’s pretty nice from here. We settled in quickly—back to those wooden beds, or rather, mattresses as hard as wood, which we *hadn’t* missed...
Then we went out for our first bowl of noodles of the trip and wandered through the shopping streets of the old town.
It was crowded, and the weather was cool—around 19–20°C. We tried a local specialty: milk skin, thick, dried, then grilled with rose jam. Yeah... we won’t be having that again. The taste and texture of the milk skin... no thanks.
We saw a lot of wild mushroom hotpot too. It’s on our list for later. We also passed through the Jinma and Biji gates, where I played with reflections in puddles. I *love* doing that 🙂
At the end of the day, we headed to a temple advertised as open 24/7 on Amap. Of course, when we got there, it was closed. We’ll go back tomorrow. That was the first of many disappointments with Amap this trip—I hadn’t had that issue on previous visits.
We were exhausted after that sleepless flight. Night was falling, and we decided to grab a quick bite without much appetite. We shared a delicious vegetable fried rice for 12 yuan—we even left half of it. The portions are *huge*.
After a couple of small purchases, we headed back at 9 PM, wiped out, after walking 17 km between the airports and these first steps in Kunming. I expected to see quite a few Western travelers here, but we didn’t spot a single one. Instead, we met lots of curious Chinese people, many of them super friendly and helpful—almost *too* eager, like when they’d run to serve us as fast as possible. It’s a bit much, but it’s great to be back!
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 three years at most in Thailand, and I’m not a big expert on the country.
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 piece together a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who miss 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 guards 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 property, be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t really 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, are 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 broken for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the side of the road, sometimes right on the road. When you arrive, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, which reminds 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. Seeing a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you might think it’s best not to cross paths with them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at temples on the brink of death, enduring terrible suffering. No one did anything about it. The image (and the smell) of one of them, dying and emitting 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 well-fed animal quickly became a happy, 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 in them 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 a gimmick—it’s just that 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.
For those planning a trip to Kerala, here’s a quick, practical summary.
For the most part: the stunning landscapes, the natural kindness of the locals, their cuisine, and their culture—you’ll get to enjoy all of that once you’re there...
Flight (arrival and departure to/from Cochin)
Avoid Air India and opt for flights via the Middle East: Saudi Arabia, Qatar, United Arab Emirates, Oman, etc.
Price: between 500 € and 600 €
Accommodations
Average price: 20 € per night for a couple (max: 40 €, min: 10 €, often including breakfast), via the usual booking sites.
Homestays (staying in the owner’s house) are of a higher standard.
Only 2 nights were spent in questionable cleanliness. The rest were good, even very good, or even *very* very good.
Car with Driver
All-inclusive daily price: tolls, fuel, driver’s lodging and meals... and of course, we often shared our meals with our driver too.
Toyota sedan (e.g., Corolla) for 4 travelers (1 in front, 3 in the back): 50 € / day,
Toyota SUV (e.g., Innova) for up to 6 travelers: 60 € / day
DM me if you’d like more details.
Overall budget (excluding flights and shopping)
Around 1500 € for 1 couple for the 3 weeks... in "2-couple mode"!
(i.e., sharing the driver’s cost).
Itinerary
Night 1: Arrival in Cochin in the morning, departure for Attirappily
Beautiful waterfalls
Night 2: Thrissur
Via Vallachira, not much tourist interest, a stop to ease into the trip and shorten the journey to Wayanad
Nights 3, 4, 5: Wayanad, staying in Sultan Battery
Coffee and tea plantations, dam lake, URAVU (bamboo craft workshop), ...
Night 6: Ooty
Botanical garden, then a really fun tourist train the next afternoon to Metupalaiyam
Night 7: Toward Coimbatore
Nights 8, 9, 10: Munnar
City visit, stunning tea plantations
Nights 11, 12: Thekkady/Kumilly
Amazing tea plantations, sightseeing, Jeep ride, not-so-interesting boat tour on Periyar Lake, trekking options
Night 13: Marari Beach (near Alleppey)
4-hour backwaters tour, then beach (swimming, dinner)
Nights 14, 15, 16: Munroe Island
Super chill, walks around the island (small coir rope factory), sunrise by boat or canoe, sunset
Night 17: Varkala
Gorgeous beaches, shopping
Night 18: Trivandrum
City center visit, then train back to Cochin the next day in 3 hours.
Night 19: Cochin
Fort Kochi is a lovely way to wrap up the trip
Have a great trip in this incredible region, so unique in India!
And we still haven’t seen everything!
Before setting off for new horizons at the end of this year, it’s time for me to share my trip to Cape Verde this summer 2025.
I particularly love these spontaneous trips, and our stay in Cape Verde is one of those because it was only at the beginning of April that we decided on this getaway, which had been catching our eye for a while, given our love for the mountains.
As always—well, when it’s open—I turned to VF, and I want to immediately thank Marie, aka ptitortue, who helped me a lot in planning this trip through her travel journals and our exchanges!
Because Cape Verde is both small and vast! We decided not to rush from one airport to another, to enjoy the places and the people, but also to relax, since the work backlog from being stuck in May (see my previous travel journal 😅) had to be caught up on in June.
So, 4 islands will be our winners from 06/28 to 07/19:
Santiago first for logistical reasons, as round-trip flights from the capital Praia were the cheapest (650 €/person from Lyon via Lisbon with TAP, still!)
São Vicente, because it’s the gateway to the next one but ultimately more than that...
Santo Antão, pretty much the main goal of the trip since Marie (and the photos) had really sold it to me.
And finally, Sal Island, for some rest—a non-negotiable condition for my other half—and we’ll see that I should’ve listened to Marie...
That said, what a chatterbox I am—buckle up, flight attendants at the doors, off we go on new beautiful escapes! (Thanks to Sophie for the easy loan)
Last note for my eager fan club 😏: yes, there will be alcohol—how could there not be in the land of grogue!
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
Alright, this year, we're heading back to South America!
The initial plan was to retrace the route we imagined in the summer of 2020: a trip to northern Argentina starting from Córdoba.
Unfortunately, the flight to Córdoba no longer exists, and airfares to Javier Milei’s country are both outrageously priced and involve multiple layovers.
So, I tweaked Google Flights every which way and finally found a flight within my budget—departing from Clermont-Ferrand!
Not to Argentina, though...
Our transatlantic flight will cross the snow-capped Andes, landing in Santiago, Chile, with a return from Lima!
In between, two domestic flights and a big road trip loop starting from the coastal city of Arica to explore the treasures of northern Chile.
Our mode of transport: a pseudo 4x4 that won’t take us through sand dunes or devilish tracks but will let us tackle the entire secondary network, including unpaved main roads, while still being insured.
Is the suitcase packed with all-season clothes?
Are the driver’s license and passport ready?
Bank cards and a few euros too?
Off we go for just over 3 weeks of southern wanderings!
--/--
To keep all my esteemed readers on track, here are a few maps outlining the Arica-Arica loop!
1- From Arica to San Pedro de Atacama via Pica and the Salar de Huasco
2- Around San Pedro
3- From San Pedro to Cariquima
4- From Cariquima to Putre
5 - From Putre to Arica
Gas stations in this part of Chile are located in Arica, Iquique, Pozo Almonte, Pica, Calama, and San Pedro de Atacama.
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...
I’m reposting here a travel journal originally published on the Routard forum in 2022 during VoyageForum’s hiatus. Without altering its content, I’ll try to streamline it. The few comments on the political situation reflect my feelings at the time and don’t account for events since then! I’d rather avoid debates on the topic. The photos are nothing fancy—just illustrative.
The context: we’re coming out of COVID. We’re looking for a not-too-distant destination, and Jordan has been catching our eye for a while. After some thought, we wonder if we shouldn’t take advantage of the geography to hop over to Israel. After all, Jerusalem is less than 100 km from Amman. Plus, Transavia lets you combine both destinations.
To plan our trip (February 19 to March 4, 2022), we contacted three French-speaking agencies in Amman. Their itinerary proposals were pretty similar, but the prices varied significantly. Given the many positive reviews we read on travel forums and a very attractive rate compared to competitors, we quickly settled on Ahmad Ababseh’s agency. Still, deep down, we had a slight worry—so many glowing reviews seemed a bit over the top, but we took the chance.
During the preparation, which happened in a very short timeframe (less than 10 days), Ahmad didn’t provide detailed roadbooks, and we made do with brief email or phone exchanges. Few details were shared either. We discussed hotels, with Ahmad preferring the ones he knew. We picked our hotel for our arrival in Amman, but before agreeing, Ahmad insisted on inspecting the rooms.
For payment, Ahmad only asked for a 500 € deposit and trusted our word for the balance, which we paid upon arrival. He also committed in writing to refund the full deposit if our trip was canceled due to COVID.
Finally, for the Israeli part, Ahmad contacted an agency in Jerusalem to handle the logistics. He didn’t take a commission.
Off to Southern Africa again! This time, the trip wasn’t just about wildlife—it was also about the local cultures and the breathtaking landscapes Mother Nature has to offer. It was an emotional rollercoaster in every way, as you’ll see.
We visited two countries: Zambia, known for its reserves, and Malawi, which is less well-known but absolutely worth a visit. Our flight landed in Lilongwe, Malawi’s capital, where our vehicle was waiting—though with a 3-hour delay. It was a 4x4 without the rooftop tent this time, since we stayed in lodges (prices are very reasonable in Malawi). Just a heads-up: don’t exchange money at the airport or banks—the official rate was 1,750 Malawian kwacha to $1. On the black market, the rate was between 3,000 and 3,500 kwacha, making the cost of living much cheaper.
With that out of the way, our first stop was South Luangwa National Park in Zambia. The first hiccup came at the Malawi-Zambia border: we were missing a document the rental company had forgotten. After some back-and-forth, they sent it via WhatsApp ($20 to get it validated by the police). But things got worse—the car’s chassis number was off by one digit from the registered one. I thought our trip was over before it even started! After what felt like forever, we got through with a "tip" of $200. Total border crossing time: 3 hours, costing nearly $400. We arrived in South Luangwa after dark.
Thankfully, the next day made up for it with an incredible day in the park (check out the photos).
We spent two full days in South Luangwa before heading to Katete for the Kulamba ceremony.
Kulamba is an annual event held at the end of August, celebrating the Chewa people, who live across Zambia, Malawi, and Mozambique. The Chewa king attends, and representatives from neighboring nations bring offerings. Thousands gather for dances, speeches, and a massive market. There are few tourists, making it a truly authentic experience.
After a few days in Zambia, we returned to Malawi (the border crossing this time was smooth—just 45 minutes). Next stop: Lake Malawi.
Lake Malawi covers over 20% of the country and stretches 580 km. It’s home to a family of fish called cichlids, some of which are endemic to the lake. I recommend taking a day trip from Cape Maclear for snorkeling and to watch the fishing eagles swoop down to catch fish.
We hit the road again to visit Liwonde Reserve, where we had a few surprises. The lodge was on the other side of the river that borders the park, and the elephants didn’t seem to care. On the way from reception to our rooms, elephants blocked our path, and one even charged just before the stairs leading to our treehouse-style rooms.
To top it off, monkeys ransacked our rooms, tearing through plastic bags for food. A mixed experience, but no real harm done.
Next up: the mountains, specifically the Mulanje Massif. This is where Malawi’s tea is grown, and it’s also a great spot for day hikes or multi-day treks. The scenery is stunning, though sometimes the mist rolls in and hides it.
After the mountains, we visited another reserve: Majete. The park is growing and now has more wildlife. We saw lions and even caught a fleeting glimpse of a leopard. And of course, the elephants got involved again—this time giving us a real scare.
During the morning game drive with a guide, we stopped to watch a herd of elephants feeding. Everything was fine until, for some reason, a female got spooked—probably for her calf—and positioned herself in front of us on the track. After a few minutes, we thought the elephants would move on, but then a young one started provoking us. The problem? We had females and calves in front of us, but also two large adult males—one behind us and one to the side.
We were trapped, and even our guide looked nervous. After what felt like an eternity (though it was only a few minutes), the herd finally moved on, freeing the track. That afternoon, we did a self-drive safari and—you guessed it—we had zero interest in running into elephants again.
The next day, we headed back to Lilongwe for our flight home. It was a fantastic, varied trip with some intense moments (sometimes *too* intense). Malawi offers amazing opportunities for those who want more than just wildlife reserves.
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
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!!!
So, a new year has begun. It’s time to reconnect with the VF buddies and wish you all my best for 2026—a year I hope is obviously full of travel, since, as I just made up:
"If travel’s good, everything’s good" 😄.
To celebrate, I’m inviting you into my new "travel journal," the one from our latest trip in November 2025, a little two-week adventure.
This time, we headed to The Gambia, a tiny country tucked right in the middle of Senegal, before making our way to Casamance.
The Gambia is English-speaking, Senegal is French-speaking, but the locals? They couldn’t care less—because in this part of the world, they mostly speak Wolof, Fula, Jola, or Mandinka.
Hence the title: Senegambia 😉.
As usual, I’m sharing the live updates I sent to friends and family—super casual, of course.
I know this isn’t the kind of destination that draws crowds, but if you love adventure, laughter, and emotion, it might just be your thing 😊.
I hope this travel journal might interest some people, but since we were completely self-sufficient (tent, sleeping bag, pot, cooking over a wood fire…) almost every day, I don’t have many hotel addresses or great restaurant tips to share! Sorry!
We used the Maio map at 1:50,000 scale. It’s part of the Boa Vista/Sal/Maio map. Bought on Amazon, but currently unavailable as of the latest news.
The people of Maio are extremely welcoming and warm, and we were always more than well received in the villages where we pitched our tent!
We’re usually big hikers, but since Maio is a beach island (gorgeous ones, at that!), we alternated a few hours of walking in the morning with some relaxation in the afternoon: beach, reading, fishing, resting…
1 euro = 110 escudos
Day 1 (Friday) Transfers by plane: Fogo-Praia-Maio
We opted for the plane to save some time on transfers, as the boat connections between Fogo and Praia take a while, and those between Praia and Maio are almost nonexistent.
You should budget around 40-50 euros per flight per person.
There are 2 flights per week between Praia and Maio—on Tuesdays and Fridays when we were there (January 2016), but currently on Mondays and Fridays.
A bit of a delay leaving Praia, but we arrived on Maio without any problems around 4 PM.
We took an *aluguer* (shared transport, 200 escudos per person) to the center of Vila do Maio, but it’s totally doable on foot with a backpack.
Since it was already a bit late, for this first night, we dropped our bags at Big Game Maio. A standard European-style hotel run by a very nice Italian family. It’s a bit pricey for us (5500 escudos for 2 people with breakfast), but after our 2 weeks in a tent on Fogo, we were happy to find a little comfort. And the breakfast is ultra-generous, with fresh products (cured ham, fruit, cheese, bread) and top quality. The hotel restaurant offers dishes that are a clever mix of Italian and Cape Verdean cuisine. Excellent!
Little tip: We didn’t try it, but Big Game Maio offers big-game fishing trips, diving, and quad rentals.
The hotel is 2 minutes from Vila’s beautiful beach, and we went for a dip at sunset and took a stroll around town. They’re redeveloping the waterfront with pretty sidewalks and light stone walls.
Vila beach
Sunset behind Santiago
Day 2 (Saturday): rest day + fishing
After 2 weeks of hiking and since Vila is such a peaceful place where it’s nice to take your time, we decided to spend an extra day there. We took the path heading south along the coast to reach Ponta Preta beach in 20 minutes. The path isn’t very pretty because there’s quite a bit of construction going on, which prevents you from really walking along the shore. Lots of real estate agencies, especially Italian ones, have taken over the land. But Ponta Preta beach is a stunning black-sand beach where we had the whole place to ourselves. We decided to go fishing from the rocks.
At 1 PM, the sun was blazing, so we headed back to Vila and dried the fish for the following days.
At 6 PM, we went fishing again, but this time at night from the rocks at the end of Vila beach.
8:30 PM: back to shower and eat at the restaurant.
The rocks and sea at Ponta Preta
Day 3 (Sunday): from Vila do Maio to Calheta de Baixo, via Monte Batalha (path 101) Hiking time: 5h
Since there aren’t many “summits” on Maio, we decided to head to Calheta de Baixo but via Monte Batalha. We left at 8:20 AM and somehow made it to Monte Batalha by 11 AM (2h40 of hiking). But the path is really hard to find in the middle of the dry grass and acacia trees. We kind of cut through randomly, aiming for the summit. Even though it’s not very high (around 300 m), the view is amazing—you can see all of Maio at 360°!
Short 30-minute break. The descent through the “forest” of acacias is even worse for finding your way. We oriented ourselves a bit by the sun to find the road connecting Vila to Calheta. We arrived around 1:30 PM at Calheta de Baixo. A very pretty little seaside village with colorful houses. An idyllic beach, a newly renovated square, and super-friendly people. We pitched our tent facing the sea on the terrace of an abandoned house (after asking the locals for permission).
We cooked some of the dried fish we’d caught the day before, along with fresh beans we’d brought from Fogo (and were still carrying!).
At the summit of Monte Batalha
Calheta
Calheta de Baixo
Day 4 (Monday): From Calheta de Baixo to Morrinho on foot. Hiking time: 3h. Then hitching a bus to Cascabulho, and a car to Pedro Vaz.
We left around 9:30 AM heading north (path 201), following the coastline where the beaches just keep coming—each one wilder and more beautiful than the last: Praia de Soca, Calheta Braca, Ponta de Pau Seco, Calhetina. We reached the dunes of Baia de Santana. There’s no real path, so you have to follow the coast, then go around the dunes, and when you spot the 3 coconut trees, head east toward them to find the track leading to Morrinho. Again, we discovered a village with a Wild West vibe, with colorful houses lined up on either side of a paved road. Just enough time to accept a drink offered by a local before jumping onto the passing school bus that took us to Cascabulho. There, we waited for a ride. A political delegation of 10 cars drove right past us without stopping. Luckily, one of the cars had a flat tire and came by 30 minutes later—and that one, thankfully, gave us a lift! They were heading to the inauguration of a water pump in Pedro Vaz. So that’s where we stopped too. After getting permission from the school principal, we pitched our tent in front of the village school… and became the attraction for all the kids who kept us company until nightfall! A woman gave us 2 jugs of water, but with all that company, it was tough to take a peaceful shower!!
Dinner: pasta with beans.
We were woken up by rain during the night and had to rush to bring all our stuff inside the tent!
The beaches just keep coming...
The dunes
The 3 coconut trees, a landmark to find the track
Day 5 (Tuesday): Rest day and fishing at Boca da Ribeira beach
We packed up at 8 AM because the kids had school. We filled the 2 water jugs that the woman lent us and headed down to camp at Boca da Ribeira beach, which is a bit further east of Pedro Vaz. It took less than an hour to get there. This time, we really were alone in the world! We pitched the tent and spent the day fishing, reading, playing, and swimming regularly because the sun was beating down hard!!! We caught a nice fish that we grilled over the fire in the evening. With the crabs and shellfish we gathered, we made a seafood rice! Yum! What a feast!
That night, once the tent was zipped up, we felt something like rain on the tent fabric. I decided to go out and gather our things, and then—shock!!! It wasn’t raindrops we were feeling and hearing, but bugs attracted by the light!! Not just a few bugs—a huge swarm of them!!! Thousands of bugs covering the whole tent, the ropes, slipping into the seams and hems! Everywhere! The blue tent had turned green!!! After that, it was a real struggle to get back inside without letting any in! A real challenge, and there were always 3 or 4 that managed to sneak in anyway. Total war!!!
Boca da Ribeira beach
Day 6 (Wednesday): From Boca da Ribeira to Ribeira Dom João. Hiking time: 3h30
We woke up leisurely and waited for the sun to dry our things, damp from the dew. A man passed by, and we gave him the water jugs we’d borrowed, which saved us a trip back to Pedro Vaz to return them to the woman.
We left around 10 AM. We followed the sea to Alcatraz, then headed toward Pilão Cão. The path runs alongside the small hills on our right, and we passed above Lagoa Cimidor. The terrain is arid, and the path is hard to find among the many goat tracks.
After 3h30 of hiking, we reached Ribeira Dom João with 2 young people we’d met along the way.
Since it was a public holiday in Cape Verde, the kids didn’t have school, and with the principal’s permission, we pitched our tent in the kindergarten. She even kindly opened the school toilets for us. The neighbor gave us the water we needed to wash up and cook. We cooked beef steaks on charcoal. A nice change from fish!! Charcoal is a widespread artisanal product on the island. People almost never cook directly over wood but always with these big chunks of charcoal.
The hills on our right
Ribeira Dom João
Day 7 (Thursday): From Ribeira Dom João to Vila do Maio. Hiking time: 3h30
We woke up at 6:30 AM to clear out of the school by 8 AM. The neighbor made us coffee to save time. It took us 2 hours to reach Barreiro, another Wild West-style town! Since we didn’t want to walk on the road, we took the old track and reached Vila do Maio in 1h30.
Last night before taking the plane back to Praia the next day.
Barreiro
The old track
The church in Vila do Maio
That’s where this trip ends!
Maio is truly a magical island! A remote, isolated place with incredible, wild beaches and villages with a Wild West feel—colorful houses on either side of well-paved, well-maintained, and decorated streets. And the locals are so warm and welcoming.
Even for hikers like us, it was a great discovery, and we were able to alternate hiking and relaxation with great pleasure! Too bad the area around Vila do Maio is being overrun by real estate construction—ongoing, unfinished, abandoned…
Hi everyone, we're back from a DIY USA road trip we organized from July 31, 2026, to August 26, 2026.
The destination: The Southwest USA, including Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico. Roughly 7,000 kilometers covered.
The car: A Chevrolet Equinox for two, rented through BSP Auto and Avis. Inside, we had 2 suitcases, a travel bag, two carry-on bags, a Walmart cooler, photo gear, and water bottles (a 40-pack).
The route: Dallas DFW, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Alpine, El Paso, Tucson, Sedona, Albuquerque, Amarillo, and back to Dallas to finish with a departure from DFW.
The travelers: Two seniors well advanced in years (73 and 75) but still active (nothing too physically demanding—to stay alive and fund our trips), fully independent physically, though a bit less so mentally. Big USA fans, a country where anything is possible. More walkers than hikers, preferring 3-star hotels over roadside motels, Italian restaurants over US food, frequent stops for photos, museums over nothing, naps over forced marches. Not too whiny, just enough to stay French in the land of the "great Satan," as they say.
Not great with languages—street English (but handy), and my Spanish is non-existent except for: "Hola! Una cerveza por favor!" That’s about it. My wife understands everything but refuses to speak.
The cost of the road trip: Around 12,000 €, including AF flights, the car, gas, gifts, visits, and everything else. Well managed, since we’d budgeted 13,500 € initially.
The positive side: A delight, with those endless open roads. Museums to discover. The realization of the Hispanic presence and its important history in this part of America. Lovely locals. Tourists who were more or less friendly. A terrible Texan accent that was hard to understand. Gas stations that were like real stores, with prepared food, alcohol sold in Arizona and New Mexico, and employees who were always up for a laugh!
The negative side: The heat throughout the trip... 43°C in Dallas at the end. Impossible to walk the streets. Lots of homeless people in downtown Dallas. Hotel breakfasts that were always the same. You get used to it.
So, it was positive overall, but the concept is starting to wear us out. We might rethink the DIY road trip model for next time. If the man upstairs grants us more time.
Next up, we’ll wait for the first batch of sorted photos to go through the wringer.
Traveling with just one spare pair of underwear, considering a hot shower a miracle, never staying in the same place too long by sleeping wherever night catches us, taking whatever local, improbable, and rickety transport we can find—this is the DNA of us wanderers. Except this time, the script for our movie is going to be a whole different genre. On paper, the destination doesn’t exactly scream epic adventure: Réunion! And what’s more... we won’t be two, or four, or even ten. We’ll be a solid thirty. All from the same family. Yes, thirty. At this point, it’s not just a trip—it’s a summer camp on the move! Why inflict this on such a peaceful island? Because my brother decided to get married there with his lovely bride. A great idea, you might say... especially when it involves relocating the equivalent of a small Ardennes village 10,000 kilometers from home for three weeks! So who’s stepping up to be the guide and wave the little flag?
So, for an exceptional trip, exceptional stories! Don’t worry, the debates at the supermarket over whether to choose plain chips or roast chicken chips, the beach picnics washed down with ti’ punch, and other rougail sausages to digest by the pool will only make it into the family archives. Here, I’ll stick to the tales of our beautiful escapes, the ones where we explore the wild corners of this little volcanic rock planted in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So where exactly are we headed?
For the first week—the subject of this first installment—we’re taking it easy. We’ll start by rediscovering the coastline, from the Souffleur in Saint-Leu to the Hermitage lagoon, before a little trip to the Cirque de Cilaos and its legendary road with 400 turns, just to get our legs warmed up.
"How about a Christmas market this year, huh? A little romantic weekend getaway...
- Yes! That’d be cool! Strasbourg? Colmar?
- Feels a bit déjà vu, doesn’t it? Plus, slim chance of snow there... And I’d love something a bit more exotic with a touch of originality..."
"Okay, Google, give me the list of the five most beautiful Christmas markets in Europe.
- In fifth place, the Christmas market in Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania.
- Save your breath! Lithuania, here we come!"
We wanted cold, and cold is exactly what we got the moment we set foot in this new, unknown land. As for landscapes, forests and lakes stretch as far as the eye can see across this vast plain, its vegetation scorched by the frost of a winter that’s clearly already well underway here.
Lakes, in fact, set the scene for our first visit to Trakai Castle, whose brick-red towers and walls rise proudly against the azure sky of our first day. Lakes, because this castle was built on an island and is only accessible on foot via a series of walkways spanning half-frozen lake offshoots. I couldn’t have picked a better spot to build my castle! Translation: We’re totally sold! Proof is we spend two hours hiking around the area, alternating between forests, reeds, and cozy houses tastefully decorated for Christmas.
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.
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!
If I close my eyes and think of the Sultanate of Oman, I first smell a light scent of incense, feel the warmth of a sunbeam on my skin, before sand slips through my fingers. I taste the sweetness of a date, a real candy, then the flavor of coffee with a hint of cardamom and rosewater... I hear the desert wind whistling in my ears, the distant call of a muezzin, then the murmur of water. I open my eyes to see smiles, welcoming gestures, a turquoise sea, rocks ranging from ochre to purple, deep wadis where torrents burst forth, orange dunes, white sandy beaches where tiny crabs scurry at full speed. I see incredible oases emerging between arid mountains. I see abandoned villages that I’d dream were full of life, imposing fortresses overlooking valleys, and lively souks where offers are delicate and negotiation is a mutual courtesy.
All that, and so much more.
This is what I tried to capture in my illustrated travel journal, which I’ll fill in here and there with photos.
I drew this journal “cold,” after my return (actually, I made it this summer, while our trip was last winter). It’s a pretty special format—I bought it in Japan without really knowing what I’d do with it. Well, it found its purpose! Below is a photo of this accordion-style journal: here, it’s only partially open, because when fully unfolded, it’s 5 meters long!
For drawing enthusiasts: The accordion format is both a constraint (each sheet is 9 cm x 27 cm) and a freedom (you can create a fresco). The paper is also a bit special: it doesn’t allow for fine lines, but it takes ink well (liner pen). However, everything has to be done almost in one go (with a very light pencil sketch) because it erases poorly. It absorbs too much water for coloring with markers or watercolors (unless you avoid soaking it), but it works well with oil pastels and their use with a brush and solvent. Since it’s yellowish, it allowed me to create contrasts even with white pastel.
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those stunning doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Oman is one of the world’s largest producers of frankincense resin. Incense burners are everywhere, from the simplest clay ones to the most precious handcrafted silver ones...
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a touch of saffron, and occasionally rosewater.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (during the week and daytime; colors are more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you’ll see some men dressed in Western clothes, they’re very few. The white dishdasha is truly the shared attire of all men. The dishdasha, which has no hood, is distinguished by a small pom-pom attached to the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go overboard with it! "It smells like the pom-pom" is an expression that’s now part of our shared language, my husband and I.
Another must of men’s attire is the kuma, a small round head covering, usually white with brightly colored patterns. The keffiyeh is also worn (but without the cord called an agal in Arab countries), and it’s mostly worn by those with roots in the desert, from what I understood.
And what about the women, you might ask? Some are veiled, some in full black (but not a burka—more like a chador + abaya), due to the influence of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, whereas the traditional outfit used to be a layering of very colorful dresses. Most of the women we saw wore neutral clothing, a plain veil over their hair, but with their faces uncovered. We also saw many saris and colorful veils—don’t forget that 40% of the population consists of Indian, Nepalese, and Bangladeshi immigrants, who work a lot in tourism, hospitality, restaurants, services, and construction.
Just to clarify, as a tourist, there’s no pressure to wear a veil, and never any disapproving looks. Of course, you’ll save the mini shorts, plunging necklines, bare shoulders, and midriffs for the hotel terrace—but I’d say that’s the same for men and women, and with the sun being strong, it’s better for your skin too.
Here’s the introduction! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
My buddy Christian and I (Patrick) are off for 28 days in Argentina in March.
We’ve already shared several trips as a duo (Bolivia Peru, Namibia, Laos, Costa Rica).
Since we’re starting from the idea that at our age (65) we won’t be coming back here—there are just too many other corners of the world to discover—we did the "grand tour" of Argentina, with 6 domestic flights to make the most of our 28 days.
Here are our stops:
1) Departure from Brussels to Buenos Aires via Madrid
2) Arrival and first contact with Buenos Aires
3) Early morning flight to Ushuaia. Boat trip on the Beagle Channel
4) Ushuaia: hikes in Tierra del Fuego National Park
5) Ushuaia: last hike and flight to El Calafate
6) El Calafate to El Chaltén by bus. First hike
7) El Chaltén: hike
8) El Chaltén: hike
9) El Chaltén: hike and bus back to El Calafate
10) El Calafate: Perito Moreno Glacier
11) Flight to Bariloche. Car rental and surrounding areas
12) Seven Lakes Region
13) Nahuel Huapi National Park region
14) Flight to Salta. Car rental
15) To Tilcara
16) To Humahuaca
17) To Purmamarca
18) To Jujuy via the salt flats
19) To Cafayate
20) Around Cafayate
21) To Cachi
22) Back to Salta
23) Flight to Iguazu
24) Waterfalls on the Argentine side
25) Waterfalls on the Brazilian side and flight to Buenos Aires
26) Buenos Aires
27) Return flight
28) Morning arrival
Happy reading!..
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.
The latest travel journal about Turkmenistan dates back to 2019. Here’s a quick update on this vast desert country, which is now a bit easier to visit than before.
This is my first travel journal. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. The country is slowly opening up, but it’s still possible to visit sites where you’ll be completely alone. In five days, I saw two Hongkongers, a few Germans, and a Chilean at the crater, ten Chinese people in a capital bazaar, and that’s it!
It’s possible to visit Turkmenistan from Uzbekistan. The easiest and most economical way is to take a taxi to the border from Bukhara. The trip takes a little over an hour.
Crossing the border takes quite a while because many Turkmen bring back items bought in Uzbekistan to resell in Turkmenistan. For example, diapers, baby products, or beauty products.
It took me over 2.5 hours to cross the border. To visit Turkmenistan, it’s mandatory to have a guide and go through a travel agency. British agencies often offer three-, five-, or seven-day trips for over 1,500 or 2,000 €.
But if your budget is more limited, you can contact a few Turkmen agencies directly by email, and they’ll make you an offer between 700 and 1,300 € for three to seven days. I took a five-day trip from Turkmenabat in the northeast of the country to Dashoguz in the north. The goal was to visit the main UNESCO-listed sites, including Merv, and archaeological sites like Nisa or Gonur Tepe.
Your guide will also be your driver. They’ll pick you up at the border. The formalities are very long because customs officers have to stamp multiple documents, and obtaining the visa you previously requested from your travel agency requires several checks. But the process goes relatively smoothly, even if each step takes a while.
Once on the other side, the first surprise is the brand-new highway all the way to Turkmenabat. A very long line of trucks stretches for several kilometers on the Turkmen side to cross the border into Uzbekistan. According to my guide, Turkmen trucks transport gas and cotton (though not this season, since the harvest is in September), but they mainly fill up their tanks because fuel is much cheaper in Turkmenistan. A full tank for a car costs about 3 €, which is unbeatable.
From the Farap border post, the goal is to reach the city of Mary, which is home to the UNESCO-listed site of Merv in its suburbs, about thirty kilometers away. This city is known as a foundation by Alexander the Great in the 4th century BC under the name Alexandria of Margiana. Several fortresses are visible.
After more than three hours on the road, we have lunch at a Turkish restaurant called Aladdin. Several quotes from the president are visible along the highway, but the road is in good condition, and we move along easily. This will be by far the best road in the country—things will get much worse later.
Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while.
When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing.
The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
Here we go!!!
I left home at 4 AM on October 31st and headed to Barcelona. Driving through Barcelona on the ring road stresses me out a bit, but at 6 AM the traffic is smooth, and I arrive at the airport without any issues. I call the valet, who quickly comes to pick up my car. He takes photos of it from all angles before letting me go.
Baggage check-in hasn’t started yet, and there are already several of us waiting.
Once free, everything happens very quickly. The flight to Abu Dhabi is on time and goes smoothly. I’ve never had any problems with this airline, which I’ve been using for several years.
The flight to Bangkok arrives at 7 AM as scheduled. This is my first time in Thailand and Bangkok. I’m used to traveling in India, and I notice that everything here is well organized—the customs process is quick, and the luggage is already on the carousel.
I booked a taxi on Booking. All I have to do is find the right exit and door based on the agency’s instructions. A large sign with the names of people who booked is posted on a wall. A hostess greets me and calls the taxi, which arrives 5 minutes later. I booked one night at the Lost Inn BKK hotel in the Phra Nakhon district, and we arrive at 9 AM. The welcome isn’t warm, and I have to wait until noon, sitting on a chair, before I can check into my room. I’m exhausted, and sleeping sitting up isn’t ideal. Noon finally arrives—the room is small but clean, which is fine for one night. I quickly take a shower to wake up because I plan to spend the afternoon visiting the Grand Palace. First, I need to exchange some money, and the banks are all close together on the same street, which is very convenient. When I enter one, a hostess gives me a ticket and invites me to sit down. There are about twenty counters, and I wait quietly until my number is called. The exchange is quick, so I can head out to find the Royal Palace. It’s actually very easy, and the walk is pleasant.
Entry to the Royal Palace (500 baht).
It’s magnificent and grand, and there are quite a few of us visiting. The sky is gray, it’s very humid, and a shower interrupts the visit. It’s a vast complex of temples and palaces. The buildings are colorful and sparkling, with a great sense of serenity (without the tourists, of course). I quietly enjoy the place and try to take photos without tourists, which isn’t easy.
Very close to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, one of the oldest Buddhist temples in the capital.
It’s very famous for its 46-meter-long reclining Buddha statue.
Walking around the temple, you can see different representations of Buddha, all covered in gold leaf.
Inside the temple, on one side, monks recite their prayers, while the other side is reserved for tourists who come to meditate in silence.
Before returning to the hotel, I have dinner at an Indian restaurant. I go to bed early because tomorrow’s wake-up call will be very early again.
Saturday, November 2nd
Wake-up at 4 AM, departure from the hotel at 4:30 AM. The taxi I booked via Booking is waiting for me and takes me to the airport. The trip is fairly quick—he takes small roads, and at this hour, there’s no traffic.
The flight to Phnom Penh is on time. Before boarding, I realize I left my fleece jacket on the carousel, but it’s too late to go back for it.
The flight goes well, and customs is quick.
At the exit, I take a tuk-tuk to Julieka’s GH near the museum. The welcome is friendly. I won’t be able to check into my room until noon, so I take the opportunity to exchange some euros on the market street. The street is lined with restaurants, and I’ll have my first meal there.
The museum is right across the street, so I don’t waste any time visiting it.
The representations of Hindu deities are very different from those in India, and I don’t recognize them. Many beautiful Buddhas are on display.
The museum is very pleasant, and there aren’t too many people, which is a plus.
At the exit, I return to the GH, settle into my room—which is decent and clean.
The Royal Palace is 1 km away. I walk along a garden, and at the end of the street is the Tonlé Sap, but I turn right. I arrive at a large esplanade and see the buildings with tiered roofs and glazed tiles. The entrance to the palace is a little further away.
At the entrance, I notice there isn’t the same crowd as at the one in BKK.
Khmer architecture is magnificent. The complex consists of gardens, palaces, pagodas with golden roofs, and slender spires.
The Silver Pagoda houses the small Emerald Buddha, which is actually made of jade. The silver flooring is covered with carpets. Photos are not allowed.
The walls surrounding the pagoda are covered with frescoes depicting scenes from the Ramayana.
My partner and I traveled from Sunday, July 5, 2026, to Wednesday, July 22, 2026.
We spent a long time debating whether to rent a car or use public transportation. In the end, after reading so many posts about travelers getting scammed by police or rental companies—even those recommended by blogs and reviews—we decided to stick with public transport. It worked out really well. Sure, we had a little less freedom to go where we wanted, but it was way less stressful for us.
Sunday, July 5:
Arrived at Cancun Airport. Withdrew cash from the ATM in the terminal just before exiting. The ADO bus counter (they pronounce it "A-Jee-O") is right behind you when you're facing the ATM. Bus to downtown Cancun cost 145 pesos per person.
Stayed at "Rose 5," booked on Booking. The studio was super clean and perfect for one night. The owner’s instructions for accessing the place were very precise, with photos included. Check-in was self-service with a code. The ADO bus terminal isn’t far, and there are shops and restaurants nearby. We really appreciated that the AC was already on when we arrived. By the way, I’d recommend always booking places with AC—it’s *really* hot in Mexico.
Monday, July 6:
Bought a SIM card with data from a TELCEL store. My partner, who’s on Free Mobile, was able to use her regular plan. Just so you know, I found the network pretty unstable. As soon as we left the cities, neither of us—me with TELCEL or her with Free—had any signal.
Another thing to watch out for: roaming charges. I had to turn my SIM back on for less than 30 seconds to get a bank SMS code, and my phone apparently connected to the internet—resulting in an 8-euro roaming fee.
Left on an ADO bus to Chiquila for 278 pesos per person. During our trip, ADO buses were always on time, comfortable, and clean. The AC is *cranked* though, so bring something to cover up with—it gets cold. Some routes were fully booked even in the low season, so try to reserve 1 or 2 days in advance either via the app (when it works) or at the counter.
When we arrived at the ADO terminal in Chiquila, the ferry company counters were right next to it. Ferries leave every 30 minutes, alternating between companies, so no need to book ahead. Just take whichever one is leaving next (330 pesos per person).
When we got to Holbox (pronounced "Hol-bosh"), we’d booked a place via Booking called "Casa de Nana." It was a huge studio with a fridge, cooking plate, and utensils. The best part? The *location*. It was 100 meters from the beach and 200 meters from a Chedraui supermarket. They provided bath towels and beach towels, and the AC worked perfectly. There’s a key box so you can leave your keys inside when you go out. The only downside was that no one was there to let us in when we arrived, so we had to wait a while. The Wi-Fi was good, which was lucky because during our 4-day stay in Holbox, the phone network *never* worked. According to locals, that’s pretty common in Holbox, along with water outages.
Luckily, I’d had the good idea to download an offline map, which helped us find our way back to the place more easily. You can walk there from the dock.
The restaurant next to our place (La Barracuda) was great if you like seafood—I’d recommend their octopus dishes.
Tuesday, July 7:
We did a kayak tour in Holbox’s mangroves at 6 AM. We were looking for a sunrise kayak tour with a French-speaking guide. That’s exactly what we got with "Kayaking Holbox," where Diego, the owner, speaks English and French. He was joined by Gustavo, another guide.
We’d booked for a group tour, but we were the only ones. Diego still went ahead with it instead of canceling due to lack of participants, so we got a private tour at the group rate—really professional of him. They showed us this amazing ecosystem for over 3 hours. We saw all kinds of birds: pink flamingos, pelicans, egrets, frigatebirds... rays, a horseshoe crab, and a little crocodile that was *so* well hidden. Diego and Gustavo have a real eye for spotting animals—I could’ve passed by the crocodile 100 times and never seen it, it blended in so well. Their explanations about the flora and fauna were super interesting. We also got a little break where we tasted mangoes and bananas that taste *nothing* like the ones in France. A real treat—those little Mexican yellow mangoes! I’d definitely recommend Diego and his agency for a French-language kayak tour (1000 pesos per person).
In the evening, we walked to Punta Coco to see the bioluminescence. No need for a guided tour—if you really don’t want to walk, you can take a taxi. At Punta Coco, you have to pass the beach bar/restaurant and then go left into a kind of inlet that forms a lagoon. You have to wiggle your feet or move your hands in the water to create movement, which makes the light appear. Just don’t expect the kind of photos you’ve seen online—they’re all edited! It’s fun to see, but you won’t be dazzled by the light...
Wednesday, July 8:
Whale shark tour with "My Holbox Tours." Why recommend this agency over others for swimming with whale sharks? Simply because Valérie surrounds herself with top professionals to make your experience unforgettable. We were with Captain Fernando, who does everything to position the boat perfectly and make your swim easier. In the water, we were with Humberto, who also goes above and beyond to make sure you have an incredible time. He doesn’t just "supervise" like some guides from other companies who leave you on your own. No, Humberto reads the whale shark’s trajectory and guides you—all you have to do is follow him. He really puts in the effort, even holding your hand to guide you through this quick but intense encounter. Humberto also films the moment and will offer to show you the videos and sell them to you. His footage is really high quality.
Fernando and Humberto also prepared food for us. Special mention for their guacamole! Valérie is there to make sure everything goes smoothly on the boat and to answer your questions in French, English, or Spanish about these animals. If you choose My Holbox Tours, you can be sure you’ll get a top-notch experience.
About the tour itself: before you go, you should know that the sharks can be *really* far away. The day we went, it took 3.5 hours by boat to reach them. The boats are small, and let me tell you—on the way there, when we weren’t going with the waves, it was *rough*. Out of 9 passengers, 4 got seasick. But once you’re face-to-face with the shark, you forget all about that. Even if swimming with a whale shark isn’t exactly a walk in the park—they swim pretty fast, so you need some endurance to keep up. You’ll usually get 2 turns. Our first swim lasted a little over 4 minutes, and the second about 2 minutes because the shark was moving fast and we were still tired from the first swim. It might seem short, but when you’re swimming, it feels *long*. Either way, it’s an experience you *have* to do—but choose your company wisely. On the way back, there’s a stop at Cabo Catoche. Honestly, the snorkeling is pretty disappointing if you’ve done it elsewhere in the world. But the lunch stop at Cabo Catoche is really nice for relaxing (white sand and hammocks).
Thursday, July 9:
Short morning walk to Punta Mosquito at 6 AM. Really nice.
Ferry to Chiquila (330 pesos per person) + ADO bus to Valladolid (300 pesos per person).
In Valladolid, we booked "Casa Lucia" via Booking. The hotel is gorgeous, with a colonial style, and very close to the ADO bus terminal and downtown. It’s super quiet and clean. There’s a shared kitchen you can use with a fridge, microwave, and water dispenser, plus a big table by the pool and a nice indoor terrace. Breakfast was simple but included. The only small downsides were the tiny room and bathroom, no mirror in the room, and a noisy fan.
Friday, July 10:
Not far from the ADO bus terminal is the colectivo station for Chichen Itza. They offer a round-trip to Chichen Itza with an option to stop at Ik Kil cenote on the way back and then drop you off in Valladolid for 370 pesos per person (Ik Kil entrance included).
For the Chichen Itza visit, we’d booked a tour with a guide often mentioned in groups—his name is Juan Pat. He’s a Maya who lives near the site and speaks excellent French. He reserves spots in advance for you and queues up to be the first on-site. It cost 500 pesos per person + entrance fees. His tour lasts 2 hours and focuses mainly on the main pyramid and the ball court. He’s passionate and fascinating, even if some of his claims, as a Maya, might be a little biased. I think it’s *really* important to have a guide—otherwise, you’ll miss so much. You can contact Juan Pat on WhatsApp at +52 985 121 2381.
Afterward, we went to Ik Kil cenote (showers and life jackets mandatory, lockers available). It’s *very* crowded, but still really beautiful with its lush vegetation.
Saturday, July 11:
Since we didn’t have a car but still wanted to visit other cenotes that seemed hard to reach by public transport, we decided to book a taxi for the day. We agreed on 1200 pesos to take us to 3 different cenotes and wait for us at each one. (To find taxis, just look where they park near the ADO bus station.)
He picked us up at Zaci cenote, which we’d walked to. We got there at opening time and were the first ones there—had the place to ourselves for a while! 150 pesos per person. A pretty cenote in the city center with lush vegetation. It’s a bit like Ik Kil but without the deep cylindrical effect.
Cenote Xcanahaltun: the most beautiful cenote we visited. Entry 250 pesos per person. It’s a closed cenote with a hole that lets light in—a cave-like setting. You can kayak inside. There are little fish at the edge that nibble dead skin off your feet. Since it’s closed, the water is *freezing*!
Cenote Palomitas: entry 250 pesos per person. Another stunning closed cenote, even more enclosed than Xcanahaltun. The hole in the ceiling is smaller, so it was pretty dark when we arrived—kind of an eerie vibe. But when the staff turned on the lights, it looked like a "Gothic cathedral" full of bright stalactites.
Cenote Sac Aua: entry 290 pesos per person. The ticket includes a guided cave tour (tip-based). This cenote is really unique with its central island and way less crowded than Suytun. Just so you know, the water is *really* cold in cenotes. In these three, in July, we had the place to ourselves for a while and never saw more than 2 families at once—so peaceful!
Sunday, July 12:
ADO bus to Bacalar (536 pesos per person).
In Bacalar, we stayed via Airbnb with a host named Luli, who offers several rooms with shared bathroom and kitchen.
The room is nicely decorated in a pleasant setting. It’s ideally located near the lagoon and downtown. The shared kitchen is handy. The mosquito net over the bed is useful because there are *a lot* of mosquitoes in Bacalar. Luli provides a water jug, which is really nice. The only big downside is the lack of water pressure in the shower—we had to rinse off by filling a bucket. Also, there’s no real door separating the room from the bathroom. We never met Luli in person, but she was very responsive via messages. The terrace in the middle of the vegetation is lovely.
From the ADO terminal to the place, we took a taxi for 40 pesos. Since this driver was honest about the price (we’d checked beforehand), we decided to use him every time we needed a taxi in Bacalar. Here’s his WhatsApp: +52 983 184 3585.
Monday, July 13:
We did a boat tour on the lagoon with "Bacalar Francophone Activities." Since we were just the two of us, it cost 3500 pesos. If we’d managed to be 4 people, it would’ve been 1000 pesos per person.
We had a private 4-hour tour on the lagoon with Steeve and his very comfortable boat. He’s from Quebec, so his French is perfect. During those 4 hours, Steeve showed us the lagoon’s iconic spots *and* places other boats don’t go. He told us about the lagoon’s history and gave great tips on where to go and where to eat. As a little bonus, he gave us a video taken with his drone during our swimming break.
Tuesday, July 14:
We went to Los Rapidos by taxi (400 pesos round trip) and entry was 225 pesos per person. It’s *very* touristy but really beautiful. You can eat there (expensive), relax, and go down the "rapids" as many times as you want. It’s worth it if you spend a few hours there. You can’t bring in food or drinks—you leave them at the entrance and pick them up on the way out.
Wednesday, July 15:
On Wednesdays, navigation is banned on Bacalar Lagoon, so we’d planned another excursion.
Visit to Calakmul from Bacalar with ABCtours (WhatsApp +52 983 319 8359).
This agency organized a trip from Bacalar to Calakmul with a French-speaking guide. Communication beforehand via WhatsApp was smooth. Mr. Checo, the driver, and Fernando, the guide (who spoke great French), picked us up on the day. Mr. Checo drove very carefully on the long road and always made sure we were comfortable. Fernando is passionate about flora and fauna—he’s a biologist with a degree in ornithology, so he knows *everything* about animals. The slightest sound or song, and he knows what it is. He’s got an eye for spotting them, from the biggest to the smallest.
During the trip, we stopped at km 27 for a short forest walk, then went to see the two main pyramids on the site. On the way back, we stopped at the bat cave for the magical spectacle of millions of bats flying out at dusk. In the end, we saw or glimpsed (some briefly) spider monkeys, howler monkeys, a toucan, 2 tapirs, turkeys, 2 deer, and lots of birds. If, like us, you’re more into flora and fauna than archaeology, I’d *highly* recommend this agency and tour with Fernando.
It’s not cheap, but the road between Bacalar and the site is *long* (3.5 hours). Price: 3900 pesos per person for 2 (3500 for 3, 3200 for 4).
Thursday, July 16:
ADO bus to Playa del Carmen (614 pesos per person).
In Playa del Carmen, we stayed in an Airbnb. The building is on the town hall square, next to the casino.
The best thing about this place is the *location*—super close to Fifth Avenue (La Quinta). The kitchen is pretty basic, but the fridge works well. There are supermarkets nearby. The rooftop pool is really nice. The two big downsides, though, are the soundproofing (you can *hear* the neighbor’s alarm and all the events on the square) and the *total* lack of water pressure in the shower. We had to fill a trash can with water to pour over ourselves. When we told the owner, he said it wasn’t normal and someone would come fix it, but we never heard back. Based on previous reviews, this seems to be a known issue that never gets resolved.
Playa del Carmen is *very* touristy on Fifth Avenue, but in a fun, musical vibe—we never felt unsafe. There are *tons* of little souvenir shops for tourists on this street. There’s a beautiful monumental sculpture on the beach (the two figures meeting in the air), next to which you can see the Voladores show (men climbing a pole, tying themselves with ropes, and descending headfirst while "flying" around the pole). The show is tip-based and happens several times a day. In our opinion, Calle 38 is prettier than Fifth Avenue—it’s lush, green, and quieter, with the sea at the end. Great for an early evening stroll. We had really good meals at great prices at "El Tio Noy" tacos, just a few meters from Fifth Avenue in a side street.
For souvenirs, we’d recommend going to Walmart instead of Fifth Avenue—you’ll find skulls, tequila, mezcal, keychains, mugs, glasses... at good, fixed prices.
Friday, July 17:
We did the excursion to Isla Contoy. Isla Contoy is an uninhabited, highly protected island. Only 200 people are allowed to land per day on a rotating basis, so only a few companies have permission to dock there. Most agencies subcontract the day to a third-party company.
We booked through VRM (Viviendo Riviera Maya), but it was Ocean Tours Mexico that handled the tour. Contoy is a little paradise. We were accompanied by multilingual guides, including French speakers, throughout the day. Steffy gave us info about the island during a short walk on the marked trails, and Leño Tlatemoa kept the mood up on the boat rides with music and dancing. Isla Contoy is *truly* stunning, and the lunch was delicious: grilled fish and chicken, guacamole and tortilla chips, rice, fruit, drinks (everything is brought and taken back by the guides). The snorkeling part was pretty disappointing if you’ve done it in Cozumel, though. The stop at Isla Mujeres isn’t very interesting either—it’s too short to explore, and the island is *extremely* touristy. Still, the excursion was very well organized, and we had a great day (2970 pesos per person).
Saturday, July 18:
We wanted to go snorkeling in Cozumel but thought the prices from French-speaking agencies were too high. Plus, for snorkeling, we figured we didn’t *need* a French-speaking guide.
So we found a much cheaper solution by taking the ferry from Playa del Carmen ourselves and choosing an agency in Playa. The round-trip ferry cost 663.50 pesos per person. Then we took a taxi to the snorkeling boat (100 pesos). The agency we chose is called Mystic Snorkel—they don’t have a physical office. The tour cost 1400 pesos per person. It was a small boat, but that day we were the only ones, so we got a private tour at the group rate. We stopped at 4 different sites, all very different and beautiful. We saw all kinds of fish, corals, a nurse shark, and turtles. El Cielo, with its huge starfish, is *exceptional*. If you’re going snorkeling in the Yucatan Peninsula, this is *the* tour to do—the other sites are pretty "poor" in comparison.
Sunday, July 19:
Morning dive with Triton Diving. I chose the Cozumel dive option. Great experience.
Booking via WhatsApp was easy. On the day of the dive, Selene, who speaks French, was our guide. She’s *very* attentive to the group’s safety. The briefings are clear and precise. In Cozumel, we did 2 very different sites: the first was a drift dive with lots of life—beautiful corals and fish. The second was a wreck, the C53, a 56-meter boat you can enter. Not much marine life, but a beautiful wreck intentionally sunk for divers—still in great condition. An unforgettable moment. Selene even took videos during the dive, which the club sends you for free afterward. I’d *highly* recommend this club.
Just so you know, in Playa del Carmen, the beaches were full of sargassum during our stay, despite barriers and daily cleanup. Locals told us the problem is getting worse and the sargassum is arriving earlier in the season. Tourism has taken a *big* hit this summer, and they’re wondering if tourism can even survive the sargassum season anymore. A lot of tourists are heading to the islands—Isla Mujeres and Cozumel—to enjoy the beaches, as the west side of those islands is sargassum-free.
Monday, July 20:
Colectivo to Puerto Morelos. First, a colectivo toward Cancun that drops you off between Puerto Morelos town and Puerto Morelos beach (40 pesos per person), then another from that junction to the beach (10 pesos per person).
In Puerto Morelos, we’d booked a room via Airbnb at "Piedra del Caribe." *Best* place we stayed in Mexico. It’s an aparthotel. Our room was ready before check-in, so they let us in early. The place matched the description—spacious, with a comfortable king-size bed. The shower had *great* pressure, which isn’t a given in Mexico. The staff was super friendly and welcoming. They let us use the pool, restrooms, and rooftop shower after check-out while we waited for our ride to Cancun Airport. They even kept our luggage. I *highly* recommend this place.
In Puerto Morelos, there was *way* less sargassum than in Playa del Carmen—it was actually swimmable.
We did the snorkeling tour with the fishermen’s cooperative for 450 pesos per person for 2 hours. The reef is close to the beach (you’re not allowed to swim there), so the boat ride is short. It’s not as pretty as Cozumel, but it’s nice and affordable. On Puerto Morelos’s page, you can also access a small, not-very-well-preserved reef. There’s also a cenote in the sea where fresh water mixes with saltwater—the water is murky there. We had a great dinner and excellent cocktails at "La Choza del Puerto."
Tuesday, July 21:
Wandered around Puerto Morelos (check out the church and read everything—it’s entertaining!), relaxed by the hotel pool, and left for Cancun Airport by taxi (400 pesos) booked via InDrive to head back to France.
Our highlights:
- Holbox
- The whale shark tour
- The cenotes
- The local flora and fauna (so present!)
- Isla Contoy
- Cabo Catoche (except for the snorkeling)
What we liked least:
- The bioluminescence (barely visible despite good conditions)
- The food—we found it not very diverse in taquerias
- The constant tipping
- The lack of water pressure in showers (fixed, wall-mounted, no hose or showerhead)
Don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions while it’s still fresh in our minds.
Here we go—finally, the big day has arrived! A trip the whole family (my two kids, my husband, and me) had been looking forward to for so long.
To keep it short, we left from Nice, arrived in Namibia on June 25, 2025, and left again on the 21st—four weeks later.
We used an agency for all the camping reservations, activities, and the car rental. At least that side of things was taken care of. Michaël was our contact throughout the planning and the trip itself.
We spent our first night at Londiningi BB. A bit out of the city center but very quiet. The rooms were spacious and clean, and we could eat on-site that evening. Perfect for recovering from the flight.