A force de grillages et de planches clouées en travers de l’entrée la mine a été barricadée, bien qu’avec la neige qui va tomber pendant tout l’hiver et rendre l’endroit inaccessible cette précaution se révélera inutile. Personne ne risquera des éboulis dans la galerie principale, personne ne tombera dans le puits.
Pendant des jours il a emballé ses provisions, mettant à l’abri des souris et des rats celles qu’il laissera dans la « maison » de la montagne, rangeant dans des cartons et chargeant dans le vieux Toyota celles qui seront à emporter vers l’outback. « Wish you were here !” Il n’a pas pu s’empêcher de lancer ce petit message à travers la planète. « Tout est si facile quand tu t’en mêles ! »
En France à la même heure il fait nuit et « elle » dort. C’est ça, le plus facile : ne pas être concernée. Et pourtant sa vie est là-bas. Mais pour que sa vie s’en retourne « là-bas » c’est ici qu’il faut ramer, ici où personne ne ramera à sa place, ici où rien n’est facile hormis roupiller un bon coup pour reprendre des forces ou tout simplement lâcher prise, laisser voguer la galère. Elle envoie des messages, elle répond aux siens, et elle ronge son frein.
Il a fait un premier voyage hors du dédale des montagnes avec le camion chargé à bloc. Les pistes étaient boueuses mais moins qu’il ne s’y était attendu. Bill roulait devant avec son véhicule ; à eux deux ils étaient équipés pour sortir de tous les bourbiers et dégager la piste des gommiers tombés en travers. La femme de Bill mordait son mouchoir pour s’empêcher de crier. Et si elle redoutait davantage les égratignures sur le véhicule que la panne sur la piste, c’est bien la hantise de la chute libre dans le ravin qui lui faisait étouffer ses hurlements. La femme de Bill se laisse aller à la panique. Parce que Bill est là pour la récupérer avant la noyade. Heureux, aimant, puissant, et résigné. Lui sait que le ravin n’est pas un danger. Parce qu’ils roulent au pas. Mais il sait tout autant que la moindre souris dans l’habitacle occasionnera une véritable panique. Alors, à chaque instant, il est prêt à entourer de ses deux bras musclés sa compagne de cinquante années de voyages variés et à la rassurer. Et Blue rit à travers ses larmes. Tout soudain semble si puéril. Mais deux jours plus tard, tout recommencera. Pour un ravin ou une égratignure.
« All went ok ». Le conducteur du camion envoie un message en France. Il est détendu à présent, car il sait qu’en des circonstances contraires ils auraient pu mettre deux jours à sortir des montagnes, et il veut rassurer sa compagne qui à 17.000 km de là se faisait du mouron sans en avoir l’air. Si par son travail elle avait réalisé un excellent chiffre d’affaire dans le mois qui a précédé elle aurait sauté illico presto dans un avion pour accompagner les trois semaines qui vont de la montagne à l’outback, tous transferts confondus. Mais des clients se sont désistés, et d’autres ont repoussé leurs projets. Faut pagayer sinon y’a même pas de quoi croûter !
Blue envoie un message simultanément : « on te voit quand ??? »
De France on répond : « bientôt ! bonne chasse aux saphirs ! Je vous aime!»
Car Bill et Blue partent fossicker pendant deux ou trois mois à présent…
Il a convoyé le camion et le van jusque vers l’outback, un de ses amis suivant avec le Toyota et la remorque. Près de 1500 km.
« Je n’ai pas oublié ton carton ! »
Elle avait laissé tout un carton d’affaires : boots, vêtements, connectique, bouquins. Elle les retrouvera dans l’outback, le plus rapidement possible.
« Charlie et John à dîner ! Je t’aime ! »
Le dernier dîner avec Charlie et John, c’était pour leur faire découvrir des spécialités françaises : escargots et cuisses de grenouille. « Devant la dame » les compères avaient fait bonne figure, avalant – stoïquement et probablement sans les mâcher – les immondes délices gastronomiques.
« Ca a bien marché, mon blanc de poulet panné au persil et mes huîtres en beignets, non ? »
Il était tout content de son subterfuge bon enfant. Le lendemain, Charlie vint boire le thé et grignoter quelques petits gâteaux maison, biens moins suspects que les mollusques.
« Tu sais que – escargots ou non – cette simple idée m’a rendu malade toute la nuit ? »
Bon. La prochaine fois il faudra leur en faire goûter « pour de vrai » ! All right mate, mais toi d’abord !
Il arrive dans moins de deux jours et mes garde-manger sont remplis à ras-bord de very french gastronomy ! Escargots et cuisses de grenouilles compris !
Il a donc fermé la mine du Victoria, déménagé ses quartiers d’hivers vers l’outback du New South Wales et les gisements d’opales, et puis…
Et puis il est descendu vers la petite ville et il a passé quelques jours à régler un an de paperasserie. Fait l’aller-retour Melbourne pour rendre visite à ses enfants et à ses amis, refait un voyage vers la mine (il n’avait pas neigé dans l’intervalle) pour récupérer quelques affaires de plus, rendu visite à un vieux mineur avec qui il a prélevé et concassé quelques échantillons de minerai dans un endroit reculé – et passé une journée à se dégager de la boue – refait un aller-retour Melbourne, récupéré de ses enfants le parfait attirail du voyageur long-courrier (oreiller gonflable, boules Quies, somnifères, recommandations), bouclé sa valise.
« Waiting for bus to Sydney. Love you!”
Une nuit entière de bus jusqu’à Sydney. Une journée et une nuit chez son plus vieil ami. Et puis, l ‘aéroport, l’escale à Singapour et…
« Plus que quelques heures à présent ! »
« President Chirac being too busy with soccer world cup sends me to welcome you….. »
Quelle est ma plus jolie robe ?
Non pas la plus jolie, mais celle qui allie l’esthétique à la circonstcance…. ? Chouette, il y en a une ! Quoi ? Il me reste deux devis compliqués à élaborer et un peu de ménage à faire ? Qu’à cela ne tienne, j’ai aussi un peu de lecture en attente ! Le téléphone sonne ? Mais qu’est-ce qu’ils ont donc tous à vouloir caramboler leur urgences un 1er juillet ? Ok, pani pwoblem, je vous ponds ça dans la soirée…. la nuit sera longue…
Chut… silence… le soleil brille et j’écoute mes tomates mûrir….
Là-bas le soleil va se lever sur l’avion qui va décoller.
C’était mon « millième ». Une fantaisie. Peut-être.
"le silence des pantoufles est plus terrifiant que le bruit des bottes"
"Fantaisie" délicieuse !.....tu m'as littéralement embarqué, emballé, enjoué....quelques lignes d'écriture pour "rendre" des kilomètres d'aventure ?...quelques mots ça et là pour fleurter avec les souvenirs peut être, .. en tout cas, avec une bien jolie plume...qui, gracile nous caresse au coeur...délectable et "mordant"😉 CONGRATULATIONS FOR THE 1000 !!!!
amicalement
Nadège😊
"Il y a assez sur Terre pour répondre aux besoins de tous, mais pas assez pour satisfaire l'avidité de chacun" GHANDI"
"Heureux le voyageur, qui en parcourant le monde trouvera son âme et en s'ouvrant à lui trouvera son coeur"...
Patience, patience plus que quelques heures.......
Dans cette attente fébrile, tu crées pour nous tous le magnifique collier d'opales que chaque mot égrène et, qui feront de toi, bientôt maintenant, une Femme-Kangourou bondissante et heureuse.😏
😉🙂Oui... Après une bonne sieste je n'ai plus qu'à travailler à présent jusqu'à deux heures du mat' (café à la rescousse), et ensuite faire ce trajet tranquille sous les étoiles jusqu'à l'aéroport de Francfort...🙂
zdoiiiing! zdoiiiing!!!
"le silence des pantoufles est plus terrifiant que le bruit des bottes"
Superbe texte : un pied en Australie, un pied en France .
🙂, Je souris parce que ce texte bien trop musclé pour être qualifié " d' écriture de femme " n'a été salué jusqu'à présent que par des femmes. L'homme "mulot" craindrait-il la femme kangourou ? 😄
Catherine
" La lucidité est la blessure la plus proche du soleil" René Char
Je souris parce que ce texte bien trop musclé pour être qualifié " d' écriture de femme "
Ah bon, il y aurait une écriture de femme et une écriture d'homme ?
J'ai lu le texte le jour de sa publication, comme beaucoup d'autres sans doute, mais je ne commente pas tout ce que je lis (heureusement, se dira le lecteur de ce commentaire et il aura bien raison).
C'est absolument indéniable pour qui s'intéresse, même de très loin à l'écriture 🙂
Un concentré de CatherineGil en une courte phrase, bravo.
Tu ne te sens pas trop seule tout là-haut ?
Il n'empêche que j'aimerais bien que tu expliques ce qui différencie une écriture féminine d'une écriture masculine, plutôt que de m'asséner un "c'est absolument indéniable". Ce genre de formule éveille tout de suite ma méfiance.
Bien que ne m'intéressant pas à l'écriture, même de loin, je lis pas mal de livres sans m'attacher au sexe de l'auteur.
Bonjour,
Bien sûr qu'il y a une écriture indéniablement féminine, c'est à partir de 1974 qu'on a commencé a reconnaitre l'écriture féminine comme terme littéraire en relation avec un courant.
L'étude sémantique admet que la femme écrit avec une conscience féminine ou féministe reconnue par les lecteurs ou par la critique. Remodelage littéraire qui sert de véhicules adéquats à la sensibilité féminine.
L'écriture féminine a été un bouleversement dans le champ littéraire dès le début du XXe siècle.
Ca m'énerve que l'on ne puisse différencier à la seule lecture d'un texte le sexe de l'auteur. Parfois et c'est très rare des auteurs masculins se sont essayés à écrire en se mettant dans la peau d'une femme. Bien entendu je ne me rappelle plus du nom de ces auteurs, alors ne me le demande pas.
PS : le temps que je tape mon p'tit truc, Youpi se pose la même question, alors ma réponse est pour les deux😏😏
Merci de ta réponse et du lien.
Mais il s'agit d'une approche féministe.
Ma question était beaucoup plus prosaïque, je m'étonnais qu'il soit possible de distinguer à la lecture d'un texte si l'auteur était une femme ou un homme, en réaction à la phrase de CatherineGil ce texte bien trop musclé pour être qualifié " d' écriture de femme "
des auteurs masculins se sont essayés à écrire en se mettant dans la peau d'une femme
L'inverse est vrai aussi, ne serait-ce que l'utilisation d'un pseudo masculin pour arriver à se faire éditer.
Ben voilà, il va me falloir expliquer, tout ce que je ne sais pas faire à l'écrit😕
Catherine a peut-être écrit le terme "musclé" non en référence aux biceps masculins mais aux mots emplis de force loin de la mievrerie fréquente féminine (un peu comme moi par exemple😕)
Le cerveau, c'est quèque chose qui me passionne. Chez moi c'est la circonvolution de Vernicke (le langage) qui fonctionne à cent à l'heure.
Chez l'homme, il y a le néencaphale : cerveau conscient et rationnel mais aussi l'archencephale le cerveau instinctif. P'têtre qu'il faudrait demander à un neuropsychiatre si l'une des zones est plus développée chez l'homme que chez la femme😏😏
il y a un auteur américain qui, je trouve, a une sensibilité très féminine, c'est Douglas Kennedy, mais ceci n'engage que moi, je trouve qu'il a une façon de décrire les femmes, très féminines...
😄 Faudrait savoir . Lorsque je me donne la peine de répondre en argumentant ma réponse, tu y trouves la preuve que je cherche la polémique et si je n'argumente pas, tu y trouves la preuve que " c'est typiquement de moi " 😄
Sur ce coup, comme je souriais béatement et que je comprends mal pour quelle raison tu t'es senti visé ( quoi que 🙂 ) je m'offrirai le loisir de ne pas "polémiquer ". 😎
Catherine
" La lucidité est la blessure la plus proche du soleil" René Char
Catherine a peut-être écrit le terme "musclé" non en référence aux biceps masculins mais aux mots emplis de force loin de la mievrerie fréquente féminine (un peu comme moi par exemple😕)
He bien justement, je trouve que c'est trop simple et réducteur que de penser cela.
Je vais prendre un contre exemple sur ce forum : pataugas a effectivement une écriture directe et incisive, "musclée" si on veut, en revanche l'écriture d'Alan correspond au schémas reçus de l'écriture féminine.
Plus j'avance en âge, et plus les idées reçues sur les différences entre hommes et femmes tombent les unes après les autres.
A part les différences physiques comme la force musculaire et la possiblité d'enfanter, je pense qu'il y a une telle variété d'individus qu'il est faux de vouloir classer entre féminins et masculins.
Le plus curieux, c'est que ces idées reçues sont perpétuées autant par les hommes que par les femmes alors qu'elles sont souvent au désavantage de ces dernières, comme par exmple le sens de l'orientation qui serait meilleur chez les hommes comme je l'ai lu sur ce forum de la plume d'une femme.
Faudrait savoir . Lorsque je me donne la peine de répondre en argumentant ma réponse, tu y trouves la preuve que je cherche la polémique et si je n'argumente pas, tu y trouves la preuve que " c'est typiquement de moi " 😄
Sur ce coup, comme je souriais béatement et que je comprends mal pour quelle raison tu t'es senti visé ( quoi que 🙂 ) je m'offrirai le loisir de ne pas "polémiquer ". 😎
L'écriture féminine a, comme l'écriture masculine ses qualités spécifiques et ses défauts spécifiques, la mièvrerie est un "défaut" typique de l'écriture féminine. Le texte de Geneviève lui n'est pas mièvre pour deux sous .
Remarquer qu'il y a des différences entre féminin et masculin, n'est en rien anti égalitaire bien au contraire : l'aricle premier de la Déclaration des Droits de l'Homme est là pour le souligner => tous les individus sont libres et égaux en droits quelles que soient leurs différences ( couleur, religion, sexe, opinions politiques, nationalités ect...) C'est dans la reconnaissance et le respect des différences que se trouve la véritable égalité, pas dans l'uniformité.
Souligner une différence n'est pas établir une hiérarchie.
Dolma : il n'est pas besoin de "décortiquer" un texte pour le savourer c'est plutôt une question de sensibilité et d'intuition .
Gidadesîles : Oui, bien sur, certains auteurs masculins ont une sensibilité très féminine et réciproquement, c'est sans doute la raison pour laquelle Marguerite Yourcenard et Cocteau avaient une telle complicité comme en témoigne leur correspondance .
Catherine
" La lucidité est la blessure la plus proche du soleil" René Char
Bien sûr qu'il y a une différence entre une écriture féminine et une masculine et bien sûr que si, il y a des différences entre les hommes et les femmes.
C'est typique d'un homme de dire qu'il ne voit plus ces différences. Moi, en tant que femme, je les vois tous les jours.
Nos sociétés sont fondées sur cette différence et toute la communication se fait suivant des codes masculins ou féminins.
Donc, je suis d'accord: "c'est absolument indéniable pour qui s'intéresse, même de loin à l'écriture" il suffit de lire un peu... exemple: Alexandra David-Neel et Nicolas Bouvier.
Ce sont deux de mes auteurs préférés que je lis et relis... et ils écrivent différemment, leurs centres d'intérêt ne sont pas les mêmes, ils ne remarquent pas les mêmes choses, ils ne les expriment pas de la même manière.
Et c'est tant mieux, deux genres = deux façons de voir la vie = deux fois plus de richesse intellectuelle.
Bonne lecture !
"Catherine a peut-être écrit le terme "musclé" non en référence aux biceps masculins mais aux mots emplis de force loin de la mievrerie fréquente féminine (un peu comme moi par exemple😕) "
Mievrerie fréquente féminine .... non mais ce qu'il ne faut pas lire .... faudrait pas généraliser votre cas à l'ensemble des femmes. Toutes ne sont pas mièvres: allez lire d'abord quelques auteurs comme Ella Maillart, Muriel Spark, Karen Blixen, Janet Evanovich, Michèle Alliot-Marie ....
Vous verrez, ni leurs styles, ni leurs idées, ni leurs témoignages, ni leurs histoires ne sont mièvres.
Une autre exemple flagrant : " Oasis interdites " de Ella Maillart et le même voyage effectué en même temps puisqu'ils étaient compagnons de voyage " Courrier de Tartarie " de Peter Fleming
Catherine
" La lucidité est la blessure la plus proche du soleil" René Char
C'est un signe, le 1000ème quelques heures avant le grand saut ! 😉
Hors la polémique féminin / masculin, je dirais que l'on sent le coeur bondir (!) et l'irrépressible appel vers l'aéroport... à travers le vécu de ce transit mine / outback / europe...
Suivant votre conseil, j’ai lu Courrier de Tartarie et Oasis interdites l’un après l’autre et c’est vraiment extraordinaire de voir comment deux personnes perçoivent le même voyage de façon complètement différente. Le récit de Flemming est beaucoup plus pressé, « speed » que celui de Maillart. Elle voit plus les détails, les paysages ; elle est plus lyrique que lui.
Il est plus rationnel qu’elle et beaucoup plus préoccupé par les détails pratiques de cette expédition. J’aime bien la façon dont leurs loisirs focalisent leur attention sur tel ou tel détail, lui est plutôt chasse et obnubilé par le record alors qu’elle vit plus au jour le jour, tranquillement. Elle est plus nomade dans l’esprit que lui.
Mais j’ai aimé les deux récits, merci pour ce conseil de lecture !
A bientôt.
hello to all travelers with their eyes wide open to the desert...
I’ve always wondered what I was "doing" on this earth. And why my father, who died a few months after I was born—a former youngest French resistance fighter—joined the First Saharan Motorized Company in Atar and spent the rest of his life repairing army engines in Algeria, Mauritania, Senegal, Mali (which didn’t exist under that name back then), Morocco, and finally Algeria, where my mother was born and raised. (Believe me, it’s not "cool" being the child of a soldier in a country occupied by France, and even less so the child of a "pied-noir.")
Of course, I never got an answer: the dead don’t talk, and the army doesn’t either.
But here’s the thing—I had photos...
So naturally, one day I hit the road. I wanted to see, to understand.
It’s thanks to VF that I was able to do a little research on crossing the Morocco-Mauritania border, and I’m grateful to its members, just as I’m grateful to all those who welcomed me on the road for 14 years.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been wondering if I should talk about this or not...
It turns out the Mauritanians changed my life by asking for my help... And that started as early as February 2012... (Did I owe them something? No answer to that question.)
Ah, the irony—they saw me coming. But when you’re handed sick children and begged to do something, what would you have done? I’d worked in a hospital, so I knew a bit about the rules to follow. I didn’t hesitate.
And well, over all these years, I met doctors, surgeons, and together we organized care, evacuations of children, training for surgeons—even trying to stop children from having to travel outside their country. It was never easy. I’d like to thank those who supported us, as well as *La Chaîne de l’Espoir*, *La Fondation Face au Monde*, and everyone who built bridges between our two countries.
Unfortunately, despite the constant efforts of Mauritanian doctors and surgeons, some children couldn’t be helped in time. Today, I want to talk about four siblings—orphans of their mother—suffering from congenital glaucoma causing irreversible blindness. Their case was entrusted to me in 2020, just weeks before the big lockdown. We couldn’t do anything for them then, but when their father asked me for a gift, I rushed to my computer and wrote a story.
Through a tale, the children take a great journey, explore their country, and fulfill a dream. I never thought this book would be published—it was, in 2023.
This book pays tribute to Mauritania. It’s a message for those who know nothing about the hardships of life there, carrying both the harshness and beauty of an immense desert where you can travel by 4x4, bike, on foot, or by camel in complete safety. It bears witness to the kindness of Mauritanians toward travelers.
As a woman traveling alone in my vehicle—a now-rusted old Mercedes that no longer runs—I had the most beautiful encounters of my life there (I’ve seen other parts of the world...). The blind children of Choum, Atar, Nouadhibou, and Nouakchott will forever be in my heart.
Volunteer readers transcribed the book into a free audio version for the visually impaired. It’s available in sound libraries in France, the *Fondation Valentin Haüy*, and the Swiss Romande library.
I made my last trip to Mauritania in my old 4x4 to distribute the book everywhere, especially to its heroes and the school for the visually impaired in Nouakchott.
After that, I thought it was time to close the chapter because I no longer have the means or the strength to travel.
My publishers chose this title for it: *The Blue Eyes of the Desert*.
This publication helped a mission of Swiss volunteer ophthalmologists come to operate on glaucomas in Mauritania. I’m thrilled because they come back every year!
This adventure is ending, yes—everything must come to an end—but ultimately, it was born here, on the VF site!! So yes, I had to say it: THANK YOU!!!!!
Who’d like to share their best and worst travel memories in a few lines?
For me, it’s watching the TAJ MAHAL at sunrise and getting chased by dogs at the top of a mountain pass in GREECE on the way back from ISTANBUL.
THANKS GUYS
Hi everyone,
I’m Loulou, a French expat who’s been living in Southeast Asia for about fifteen years, currently in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. A passionate walker at heart, I’ve trekked in Nepal (Thorung La, Mardi Himal), India, Vietnam, and I’m still planning new hikes (Char Dham, Langtang, Annapurna).
I’ve just published my first travel journal, recounting three months of walking and encounters across India. A portion of the sales goes to an educational center I support in Kep, for children whose parents work in the salt marshes.
I’m also working on a second book about Nepal with a musician friend, focusing on the Mardi Himal trek—two independent perspectives on the same journey.
Happy to swap stories with you about the Himalayas, India, Southeast Asia, or just the urge to hit the road and walk far from home.
Safe travels,
Loulou
Hi! It was totally by chance that I stumbled upon VoyageForum (an ad online and a story lol), and I’ve been reading some really old posts from 2011 about Thai massage schools—discussions on how to get by, accommodation, prices, etc. It reminded me of my own experience: I kept things simple by staying with a local family during my entire trip. I only shared all the expenses with them, which, I’ll admit, was super cheap… and I often traveled with them, which naturally opened a lot of doors for me. To start, at the school in Salaya, my Thai friend immediately connected me with Teacher Phong (the school’s mentor and teacher of teachers, a former monk). I was supposed to join a group session with other foreigners, but for some reason I don’t know, I got two days of private lessons for free with this expert… incredible! And on top of that, he loved France! It was an amazing experience. I "discovered" massage by chance—the Thai family just told me: "Try it, you’ll see!" (I’d had a pretty intense massage in the capital before 😅… but the next day, I felt unbelievably great!))
Every morning, I’d take a taxi (chosen by the Thai family at prices that beat all the competition) to this school—I’ve forgotten the name of the little village now… right in the heart of the countryside. Then, in the evenings, I’d keep practicing massage on all the family members… and they’d teach me Thai at the same time!))
Since then, I’ve practiced a bit, with lots of positive feedback. Following Teacher Phong’s advice—he thought my pressure was deep, firm, and precise—he strongly encouraged me to take this seriously.
I love Thailand so much. It’s a whole different way of living… and it’s a real blessing, even if I couldn’t live there full-time. Anyway, that was an unforgettable memory, and sometimes the Thai family and I still say hi—from 2011, 2013… right up to today!
"It seems to me that poverty would be less painful in the sun" wrote Aznavour...
Not sure...😕 Who can prove that people in hot countries are happier than others?
What do you think?
Is it better to live in Montpellier than in Lille?
Are the Pygmies happier than the Inuit?
Are Canadians less happy than the people of Louisiana?
Are there more French expats in hot countries?
And your travels? Do you choose your destinations based on the climate?
Do you rejoice when a bit of sunshine appears?
Hi everyone, just this once I’m not posting for a travel story, but to share a thought for Venezuela.
If you didn’t know—since it’s not making headlines—the country was hit by two 7.5-magnitude earthquakes last week. Over 2,200 people have died, more than 50,000 are missing, and some coastal towns have been completely destroyed.
Maybe when the scale of the humanitarian crisis becomes clear, our media will cover it a bit more... especially since earthquakes with this many casualties usually make the front page, but there’s been nothing in France.
So here’s a thought for this country, which, whatever you think of its politics, is a true jewel of South America, both for its landscapes and its people.
hi there
I’d like to invite you to discover my coastal province in central Vietnam: Quang Ngai.
This year, my province has really improved its infrastructure—mountains, countryside, and sea are all authentic here.
No harassers or thieves, and no Russians either.
A local lunch costs around 1 €.
A *** hotel room is about 25 €, and you can find hotels right on My Khe Beach.
We have a specialty: *banh xeo*—10 crepes for just 1.5 €.
You can rent motorbikes to explore the province and maybe visit the many ethnic minorities.
I live here—I’m not selling anything, but I can help if needed (my father-in-law is a traditional Vietnamese doctor and he’s very skilled).
Hi everyone! 😉
I’m Typhaine, 35 years old. Five years ago, I left France for a solo round-the-world trip—no planes, just a van, hitchhiking, cycling, and even a canoe in the Amazon! Today, I work as a naturalist guide in Argentine Patagonia.
Wherever I go, my compass stays the same: observing and photographing wildlife, which I deeply admire and respect.
My project: I’d love to share this experience through a sustainable, authentic, and immersive nature tourism initiative. But to build something meaningful, I need to understand how other nature enthusiasts experience their own adventures.
If you:
Are over 20 years old
Have a true passion for Nature
Have already taken at least one trip lasting more than 3 nights (in your country or abroad) in your life
Promise: I’m not selling anything, this isn’t marketing. Your answers are 100% anonymous and will only help me shape this wild project.
A huge thank you to everyone for your help and kindness! Looking forward to chatting in this thread 😛
(Dear admins, this is purely a collaborative effort for my project study, with no commercial purpose. Thank you so much for your support!)
Photo: Grizzly Bear (Ursus arctos horribilis), female on the left and her cub on the right. Photo taken by me in Alaska, Denali National Park.
It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.
A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question.
They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???
Not even a simple thank you!!!
From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕
Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????
I spent 3 weeks in Bali last summer (+ 3 nights on Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java). So I wanted to see what ChatGPT could suggest for comparison...
Here’s the prompt I gave:
"You’re a local expert guide for Bali.
- Plan a 20-day itinerary for Bali with a side trip to Gili Meno and a day trip to Kawah Ijen in Java without staying overnight.
- I’m traveling with my wife, and I love visiting historical sites, hiking, relaxing at the beach, snorkeling, and exploring rice terraces...
- For the duration of the stay, I don’t want more than 8 places to sleep, and I’d like to stay at least 2 days at each stop to avoid unpacking too often. Except for the last night, where I’m okay with just one night near the airport.
- I prefer neighborhoods that are walkable and try to avoid typical tourist traps, though I don’t want to miss the must-see spots. So suggest a mix of iconic sites and hidden gems.
- Recommend hotels or guesthouses with a budget of 50 to 100 € per night, including breakfast. Make suggestions in areas popular with travelers, specifying the vibe (I prefer quiet), and consider safety and proximity to attractions.
- For lunch and dinner, suggest two to three restaurants that are well-rated by customers.
- Give me a day-by-day program with details on travel times, visiting times for each point of interest, and recommendations for transportation (taxi, train, bike, etc.).
Estimate the total cost of the trip, including accommodations, food, transportation, and activities, and suggest two tips for saving money in each category.
- Don’t make anything up—be realistic about travel times, take into account the opening dates and hours of sites, and give me the entry fees for places to visit.
- Ask me all the questions until you’re 95% sure you understand what’s being asked. Don’t generate your response until you’ve understood."
The AI asked for a few clarifications:
"Great request—I can build you a really optimized and enjoyable itinerary, but to be 95% sure I hit the mark, I need a few key clarifications (this will really influence the pace, areas, and accommodations)."
In the end, it proposed a program very close to what we actually did.
I’ll skip its accommodation and restaurant suggestions...
Its proposal:
"Ubud (4 nights) => we did 5 nights
Sidemen (2 nights)
Amed (3 nights) => we’d planned 2 nights
Gili Meno (3 nights) => we did Gili between Sidemen and Amed
Munduk (3 nights) => we did 2 nights before Pemuteran
Pemuteran (3 nights) with Ijen => we did 4 nights
Sanur (2 nights + 1 last night) => we chose Jatiluwih instead of Sanur
It suggested "activities" (and accommodations too):
IN UBUD:
- Walk around central Ubud (1–2h)
- Campuhan Ridge Walk
- Tegalalang Rice Terrace
- Tirta Empul
- Gunung Kawi
- Massage / market / slow café
IN SIDEMEN:
- Rice terrace hike (2–3h)
- Cooking class
IN AMED:
- Snorkeling
- Japanese Shipwreck
- Beach + relaxation
- Volcano sunset
ON GILI:
- Snorkeling at Gili Meno Turtle Point, Nest Underwater Statues
IN MUNDUK:
- Jungle & waterfall hike - Munduk Waterfall + Melanting Waterfall
- Loop: 3–4h (perfect for your level)
- Ulun Danu Bratan Temple
- Twin Lakes
IN PEMUTERAN
- Snorkeling: Menjangan Island
For Kawah Ijen, it detailed the day well:
👍 from Pemuteran = best possible option
12 PM: leave hotel (we left at 10 PM)
1 PM: ferry
3 PM: arrival in Java + transfer
11 PM: start ascent
2 AM–6 AM: volcano
Return to Bali around 11 AM–12 PM (we got back at 4 PM)
👍 still very intense, but doable with an agency
💰 ~80–120 €/person all-inclusive
IN SANUR:
- Relaxation
- Quiet beach
- Proximity to airport (30 min)"
I’ve kept the habit of blowing my nose in the sink and then washing my hands—a custom I picked up in India. Sometimes, non-travelers are shocked when they catch me in the act... 🤪
Also, when I run out of toilet paper, it doesn’t bother me—unless I’ve got company over... 🤪
Just got back from walking a friend’s dog (while they’re on vacation), wearing a djellaba and Tibetan boots... 😏😏😏 Oh, for sure, if I’d run into locals, I probably would’ve shocked them? 😏
Anyway, as long as I’m not spitting on the floor at a restaurant or squatting on the side of a highway with a water bottle in hand...
After taking a little trip around the world, I came back a few months ago with an idea in mind.
I mostly do diving, and I love observing animals in their natural habitat without disturbing them.
During the trip, I realized it was quite complicated to know where and when to see certain species.
For example:
where to dive with sharks or manta rays
where you might get a chance to swim with whales
I even discovered thresher sharks during my trip… I didn’t even know this species existed before, even though they’re incredible to see.
We spent a ton of time searching for info all over the place, especially on social media, without ever getting a clear picture.
So I started putting all this together on my own, in the form of a map, to make it easier to visualize where to go depending on the seasons.
I recently put a first version online (it’s called Fauneya).
There are probably mistakes, inconsistencies, or things to improve, and that’s partly why I’m posting here.
I’d really love to know how you all go about planning this kind of trip.
As part of my Master’s thesis, I’m currently conducting a public survey on a topic that concerns all of us when planning a trip: artificial intelligence and the role of human contact in travel planning.
These days, we’re using more and more digital tools to find ideas, compare options, and book trips... but is the role of human advisors still essential? At what moments? And for what types of trips?
The survey is anonymous and takes about 7 minutes.
It’s aimed at anyone who travels (or has traveled) for leisure, whether you plan everything yourself or go through an agency.
While browsing the forum to gather info for my upcoming trip to Thailand, I often see the terms "traveler," "great traveler," and also "tourist"—so what’s the nuance for you?
I've traveled quite a bit in Vietnam over the past few years—from the southern delta to bustling cities and even some small islands—but what really sticks with me is the north, the high mountains.
Up there, there's something different—maybe slower, more raw. The morning markets with ethnic groups, women in traditional clothes, the colors...
The stilt houses, kids following you and laughing for no reason, the terraced rice fields—it almost feels unreal at times, so vast and quiet, yet so human and simple.
You often hear that Sapa has become too touristy, and that's partly true, especially in the center. But as soon as you move a little farther away, everything changes quickly. The landscapes open up, encounters feel more natural, and you rediscover something truly authentic.
I think it's that contrast that struck me—the difference between what you imagine before going and what you actually discover when you take the time.
And you—what memory do you hold onto from Vietnam? A particular place that touched you more than others?
Hello,
We’re finalizing the plans for our upcoming trip to China in May 2025. The second-to-last stop will be in Zhangjiajie, where we’ve planned to stay for 2 full days before heading to Shanghai.
We’re traveling solo using local transport and have arranged to stay in the city of Zhangjiajie.
We’ve seen that there’s a lot to see:
Tianmen Mountain, the Grand Canyon and the glass bridge, Zhangjiajie National Park, and that the sites are quite far apart with fairly expensive entry fees.
We’re thinking of dedicating one day to the national park and the Grand Canyon (glass bridge) and one day to Tianmen Mountain.
But we’re not sure if this plan is realistic—any thoughts would be much appreciated!
I should be serving a warming drink to the participants in the discussion about gardens and parks that provide us with beautiful photos, I could mention the delicious buttery scent wafting from bakeries in the thread about returning to France, but my heart, its powerful pulse that nourishes my entire being, is elsewhere.
Dasht-e Lut, Yazd, Esfahan, Bam, Kerman, Qeshm, Hormuz—a melody, a prayer at the heart of desire.
A dream, an unattainable fantasy? No. Not anymore.
A very serious Italian travel agency is organizing this trip for 6 people this winter. I’m signed up, I’m going, I’m living. Maybe.
"But you’re completely crazy!!!!"
I know... I know that every civilization, every society has a vital need to create scapegoats to define and justify itself, pathetically. And Iran is one of them, top of the list. I laugh or sigh, and it doesn’t bother me.
But that unchanging red, deep red and garnet, so beautiful in itself, in all the Western chancelleries repeats, whispers, shouts: don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, you’re putting yourself in danger and we can’t do anything for you. You’ll be turned into mere bargaining chips, into arguments for endless negotiations. Fear must be instilled, its power absolutely preserved, no concessions made to the enemy. The information (how many French hostages, real or fake, compared to the number of travelers?) is always lacking.
Traveling becomes a merciless confrontation between desire, the vital pulse, and anxiety, its ghosts.
Hi everyone, here’s our itinerary. Arriving on the evening of December 13th. Departing on January 7th.
Thanks in advance for your tips and valuable feedback.
Manila – 1 night
Coron – 4 nights
Coron to El Nido cruise – 2 nights
El Nido – 4 nights
Port Barton – 5 nights
Flight from Puerto Princesa to Vigan
Vigan – 2 nights
Sagada – 2 nights
Banaue – 2 nights
Bagabag – 1 night
Manila – 1 night
I’ve only booked the flight to Manila and the Manila/Coron flight so far. Is it possible to book boat trips, accommodations, and the Puerto Princesa flight last-minute?
Really disappointed with Costa Rica! Pura vida? The scam of the century!
(Costa Rica pure emptiness).
The country where animals are free and people are in cages.
3 weeks in December in this country and never again. Imagine the trailer of a movie that seems interesting, and when you go see it, you realize it’s a flop and the best moments were in the trailer.
Well, that’s exactly how we felt with Costa Rica pure emptiness.
My wife and I have traveled quite a bit and didn’t expect to be so wrong about a place.
On the main routes, we visited:
San José
Alajuela
Limón, Cahuita, Puerto Viejo, Manzanillo (Caribbean side)
Jaco, Quepos, Manuel Antonio (Pacific side)
And a few short stops in intermediate towns.
Our dissatisfaction grew gradually like this:
When we arrived at the hotel, the taxi dropped us off on a small street in front of a white metal gate with ground-floor windows barred. We looked at it skeptically, but the sign matched.
He approached the gate, rang the bell, the buzzer sounded, and the door opened slightly. The hotel wasn’t bad for the price, a 10-minute walk from downtown, but with a "Fleury-Mérogis" vibe guaranteed.
So far, so good.
After showering and regaining our bearings, we headed downtown.
What started to unsettle us on the way was seeing houses with bars on the ground-floor windows and even on the second floor.
At first, we thought the hotel’s neighborhood wasn’t great.
Downtown San José:
It’s a generic city, not very exotic, with a pedestrian street and a small mercado where you can eat local food without frills. Very few tourists—if any—which let you blend in with the locals. We had lunch and struggled to make ourselves understood because, aside from one or two shops, English wasn’t spoken.
On the way back to the hotel, we took a different route, and while chatting and strolling, my wife pointed out a beautiful two-story white house completely barricaded like Fort Knox.
From that moment, we started noticing the facades of houses and buildings, and wow, it was creepy—most looked like prisons, some even with barbed wire.
Though put off, we told ourselves it was probably a big-city thing and the rest of the country couldn’t be like this.
So far, so good.
We relaxed at the hotel and had a drink at the bar. Night falls early, around 5:30 PM. By 7:30 PM, we headed back downtown for dinner. A bit unsettling for a capital—downtown was almost deserted, and aside from fast-food chains, very few restaurants were open, with hardly anyone on the streets.
Bars with security guards out front.
I won’t say we felt unsafe that night, but once it got dark, we realized the bars on the windows weren’t for nothing. First day in, and our impression was already mixed.
The next day, we explored the city and surroundings, and our feelings didn’t change.
So far, so good.
Off to Cahuita by bus—4 hours of travel.
The landscapes are very green but quickly become monotonous. The road runs alongside the forest and passes through a few towns and villages, and even in the countryside, there were just as many prison-like houses.
The bus dropped us off at Cahuita’s terminal station—only four of us got off. It’s a village, or rather, a small town. Cahuita is basically one straight road and a perpendicular one, and honestly, doubt started to creep in.
A few restaurants that add 13% tax and 10% service charge—so 23% extra. We dropped our stuff at the hotel and went to explore. In 20 minutes, we’d seen it all. We had lunch and planned to check out the famous park.
Entry is by donation—well, the "entry" is a joke. There’s a path along the forest by the sea, and that’s it.
Nothing’s going right anymore.
We thought it was a total scam, but since we hadn’t gone far, we decided to come back the next day to explore further.
We returned to the hotel, relaxed, and around 8:00 PM, we went out for dinner. Only two restaurants were open, and the streets were deserted.
Creepy!
The next day, we explored the so-called park more thoroughly and really got it.
A path along the forest by the sea—2 hours there and 2 hours back, where you see animals that feel like showing their faces.
A total joke—"all that for this?"
The beach was full of wood debris and coconut husks. We wondered if the photos online were edited because the sea, very rough, wasn’t the azure blue we’d seen in pictures.
But calling this a park is a joke—it’s like a new concept.
When we thought about the reviews online, we started to suspect that professionals with interests in the country were monitoring and countering any negative feedback that could harm their business.
Too bad we didn’t check the negative reviews beforehand—we did while we were there, and it helped. We wondered if we’d become too demanding after all our travels, but no—when something’s bad, it’s bad.
Manuel Antonio’s park is even more ridiculous—there’s a short path along the sea for about 500 meters, and then nothing. You have to climb through mud and hack your way through the forest. We ended up barefoot because the mud was up to our calves. All that to see a raccoon and a few parrots flying overhead.
We didn’t expect Noah’s Ark, but we’ve seen more animals in Bali, Mexico, and Thailand while visiting temples or just walking around than in these so-called parks!
Puerto Viejo, not far from Cahuita and supposedly livelier—well, it couldn’t be worse!
According to Lonely Planet, it had a Caribbean vibe and wild nights, but maybe that was a long time ago. The good reggae music playing everywhere isn’t enough.
In the evening, Puerto Viejo was a bit livelier than Cahuita, but that’s not saying much. Very few tourists—if any—no night market, just two or three shops open selling $20 T-shirts. Same vibe as San José.
No big deal—we enjoyed the beach and the sun, which was reliable.
Our itinerary was supposed to include Tortuguero Park, but after talking to other travelers who’d just been, we changed our minds, knowing we’d be visiting Manuel Antonio Park on the Pacific side.
To get back to the Pacific side, you have to take the bus and go through San José again—5 hours this time—then switch bus terminals and another 4.5 hours to Quepos.
A stopover town to get to Manuel Antonio’s beach and park!
A town just like the others we’d seen—deserted as soon as the sun sets, and not exactly bustling during the day either. (Where are all the tourists?)
Still as many bars on the windows and that feeling of being in the wrong place.
7 km later: Manuel Antonio beach and park.
The beach is very beautiful and quite large, but don’t expect turquoise blue water—the waves stir up the sand, giving the water a brownish color.
Along the beach, shops and restaurants for about 300 meters, and then nothing. At night, after sunset, the town shuts down too.
Manuel Antonio Park is highly praised for its wildlife, so we were eager to see it. When you express dissatisfaction with Cahuita or Manzanillo parks, the response is always, "But you should’ve gone to Monteverde or Manuel Antonio!" No matter what you do or say, they’ll tell you, "You should’ve gone there or here."
Back to our famous park—entry was about $16, and contrary to what we’d heard, it wasn’t crowded!
Guides at the entrance with spotting scopes offered their services for about $30.
The park: a mix of boardwalk and dirt paths through the forest, sometimes running alongside beautiful coves and beaches.
As soon as we entered, a crowd was taking photos of a deer eating leaves.
A little further on, a guide with a group of five stopped. The guide raised his arm and set up his spotting scope! He showed them, about 100 meters away, a hummingbird perched on a branch. Some, looking through the scope, exclaimed, "Oh my God! Amazing! Incredible!"
For a moment, we thought they’d discovered a unicorn or were in Jurassic Park and had just crossed paths with a T-Rex!
The concept is comical—looking at a bird or another animal through a spotting scope because it’s too far away. Isn’t that what TV is for?
For our part, we saw monkeys, ants, an armadillo, an iguana, and the backside of a sloth climbing a tree. Amazing, incredible!
We stayed a few days in Manuel Antonio to enjoy the beach, changing hotels often because prices varied wildly from one day to the next for shameful services. On top of that, they’d quote a price in dollars and convert it at their discretion—thieves!
Alajuela, a city near the airport, has a two-story mall and a local market downtown! No interest except its proximity to the airport.
What we liked:
The climate and, in hindsight, San José—the most authentic city we visited.
What we didn’t like, in addition to what we’ve already mentioned:
Costa Ricans aren’t very friendly or communicative. English is barely spoken, not even by doctors at Quepos Hospital, where my wife ended up with food poisoning (thanks, Google Translate). The widespread obesity among Costa Ricans, who eat like Americans. The insecurity. The eco-hipsters who leave their $150 lodges in minivans with guides to visit parks and other sites, then return to barricade themselves in their fortresses at nightfall (oh my God, amazing, incredible). The blue signs at the entrance of towns that accept this payment method: "We accept American Express." Parking lots that become paid just because a guy is watching your car. Prices displayed in dollars. The cost of living (hotels, restaurants, taxes). Landscapes that are too green and not flowery enough. Beaches—nothing exceptional. Pollution in cities where big American trucks rule. Sewage dumped directly into the sea. Aside from the jungle, there’s nothing to visit—no ruins, monuments, or anything worth seeing.
In short, my wife and I think the hype about this supposedly eco-friendly country is overrated. It’s just the trendy destination of the moment. There are much better, cheaper, and more authentic places.
In hindsight, we keep the good memories and our beautiful photos, but if we had to do it over...
Before signing off, a little message to those who don’t like hearing opinions different from theirs:
Well, some things aren’t up for debate. And to those who’d have us believe that in 3 weeks, we don’t have the right to criticize a country or express our feelings—how can you praise it in so little time? What a scam. Costa Rica is a money pit. Pura vida? Pure cosmic emptiness.
If you like spending your evenings barricaded in your cozy hotel after dark, this country is for you.
For everyone else: run!
Hello,
Since the war between Russia and Ukraine, nothing is simple anymore for traveling to Belarus due to sanctions.
No more direct flights from the EU to Minsk.
Driving is a huge hassle, especially crossing through Poland at the only open border in Brest—you can wait 2, 3, or even 4 days just to get through by car.
The least painful driving option is to come via Lithuania and cross at the only open border, with a minimum wait time of 8 hours, sometimes up to 20 hours or more!!
Controls are very strict and annoying on both the Lithuanian and Belarusian sides. Avoid bringing alcohol, food, or cigarettes—everything will end up in the trash, especially when leaving Belarus for Vilnius, where the Lithuanians are tough, even with EU citizens.
The joy I once knew when visiting my wife in Minsk is sadly over—it’s now a real ordeal.
The fastest solution is to fly. My wife travels to France by taking a bus to Kaunas in Lithuania, where you can catch a flight (though not daily) to Paris Beauvais or Charleroi in Belgium with Ryanair, for example.
For the return trip, it’s the same: a flight to Kaunas and then a direct bus from the airport to Minsk.
The bus crossing is quicker than driving—the 250 km journey, including border checks, takes about 6 to 8 hours for buses leaving Lithuania around midnight, but controls are still strict at the border.
The biggest challenge is finding flight schedules that align with the bus routes between the two countries, given the unpredictable border crossing times.
Now, my wife travels via Charleroi in Belgium (near Brussels), and you can take a train to Paris. Alternatively, you can fly into Beauvais and take a bus to Paris (Porte Maillot).
For those driving, note that EU insurance and assistance policies no longer work in Belarus or Russia. You’ll need to get local insurance, usually limited to third-party liability (I don’t think full coverage exists?), as well as mandatory medical insurance. This is available at the border.
You now have to pay highway tolls—no more BELTOLL boxes. Instead, you pay a flat fee for the duration of your stay. Stop at the first gas station after crossing from Lithuania to fill up on fuel and cigarettes.
From what I know, Lithuania bans carrying more than 60 € in cash, but there’s no limit for USD (though it’s capped at $10,000??).
With a Visa card, you can now withdraw 1,000 rubles per week (about 270 €)—two months ago, it was only 500 rubles!!
For now, you can still pay by card in shops and gas stations.
However, major retailers like KORONA (which may be Russian-owned??) no longer accept foreign Visa cards.
Unfortunately, the additional sanctions announced by the U.S. on August 5, 2025, against Russia—and possibly Belarus—aren’t promising for the future.
After 20 years of visiting Belarus, I’m truly saddened to see the joy of living in this country with my wonderful wife turn into such a bleak situation, all because of human folly.
Hi everyone!
I’m putting together our travel itinerary for Veneto at the end of April. And the more I look and research potential sites to visit, the more I find!
We’ll only be there for a week—my family and I—including 3 days in Venice. So we have to make some choices...
I plan to rent a car when we arrive in Venice and head straight to Bergamo, which would be our first stop. We’d leave the car at the airport when we return to Venice so we can explore the city at our leisure.
What do you think:
1 night in Bergamo (a 2h15 drive from Venice airport),
1 night in Garda,
1 night in Verona,
1 in Padua, and
3 in Venice—would that be doable?
Thanks in advance for your tips and experiences! :)
Now that the curtain has fallen on the past year, it’s time to see what’s happening around here.
It seems pretty quiet, but I’ll read more in detail later.
First, I need to tell you all an anecdote.
My eldest little girl, in her third year of law school, was really scared she wouldn’t pass the year.
I told her:
“Trust yourself, you’ve worked so hard, and worst case, if you fail, you’ll just redo the year.”
“But I don’t think I’ll make it—they changed the rules, and if I mess up even one unit, I have to start all over.”
I knew her grades weren’t exactly stellar, and with what I was about to say, I wasn’t taking much of a risk.
“Here’s the deal, sweetheart: if you pass, I promise I’ll take you to India, just the two of us.”
I have to admit, India is a country I’ve talked about so much to all my grandchildren that in their minds, it’s become a magical, mythical place (hmm).
July had barely begun when my phone rang, her name flashing on the screen.
“Mamido, I did it!”
My promise came rushing back—oh no, oh no, oh no!
“Congratulations, sweetheart!”
A little shyly, she said:
“Is the India trip still on?”
And me, replying:
“Of course it is!”
And that’s that—a promise is a promise, or you risk losing that precious trust that keeps hearts warm and at peace.
We’re leaving in February. Only 8 days—yikes, the carbon footprint!
But we can’t miss her tutorials, or she’ll be kicked out.
Personally, that works just fine for me.
Going to India has become a challenge for me. It’s far, it’s exhausting, I sweat, I hate mosquitoes, the spices bother my mouth when I used to love them. There’s noise all the time—at night, the dogs bark nonstop, and we almost get run over. I’ll get lost in the streets because my sense of direction has vanished. I don’t like rice anymore. All that chaos and those cultural differences that once enchanted me now just overwhelm me.
But I promised.
The upside—and it’s a big one—Raman, the same driver I’ve had forever, will be at the airport with a sign with our names. We’ll stop at the same little shop for chai (or tea, plain and simple) with that aroma that intoxicates me, halfway through the trip.
It’ll be a tiny trip—staying with friends, I’ll show her a few places I love: Chidambaram, Mamallapuram, and the clinic where I worked. Then we’ll head back.
My little girl will go home to her parents.
As for me, I’ll leave right away for our Scottish island with Homme for our chilly winter.
How can you love a country so much you want to live there, then suddenly reject it, no longer able to appreciate what once made it special?
That’s the mystery of love, I guess.
I’ve visited the U.S. four times myself, including two long road trips. The last one was just this past August...
I won’t be going back. I already felt guilty last August, but recent policies have finally convinced me: the humiliation of Zelensky, authoritarian excesses, Gestapo-like methods for detaining people of foreign origin, the murder of innocent people (a mother shot dead), corruption, insane "tariffs," skyrocketing healthcare costs for Americans, the abduction of foreign figures to secure oil, the requirement to disclose social media accounts, and now... threats and blackmail to forcibly take Greenland—a region that belongs to Denmark and thus the European Union!
The reality is that simply posting this could get me denied entry to the U.S.!
In this context, I just can’t keep spending money there. I loved my trips, but there are so many other countries with stunning landscapes to explore.
So I get why you’d want to travel there. I did, and I loved it. But once a country no longer respects any of the values that made us love it, why go?
How can we even consider traveling to a country that threatens to take one of our territories by force?
Hello everyone,
Controversial topic? Not necessarily—maybe just a reflection on a world to come.
I spent the last 15 days of August on a cruise in Greenland, from Kangerlussuaq to Tasiilaq.
I was utterly amazed by this unique world of rock and ice, the little houses in every color, a simple life that’s also complicated by isolation and climate, among other things...
I carry in my heart the kindness of the people I met, the raw and gentle majesty of the icebergs, the colors of the sky...
So, I can’t even imagine a massive presence of raw material prospectors, heavy machinery requiring roads to be built—if that’s even possible—changing their way of life... putting sled dogs out to pasture!
Do fast food and Greenland’s northern lights really mix?
I wouldn’t trade my memories for an ESTA!
All opinions are respectable, which is why this isn’t a controversy—but I’m sorry, I have a soft spot for *my* Greenland.
We’re a couple aged 58 and 63. We’ve just returned from a wonderful trip to South India in Tamil Nadu and a few days in Kerala. We traveled with a local French-speaking guide and his friend, the driver. They both live in Pondicherry. We spent 3 weeks with them in the most authentic way!
We covered just over 2,500 km and visited not only temples but also archaeological sites, museums, and small artisanal businesses making tiles, tea, sculptures, bronze, and silk spinning. We were lucky enough to visit a public school, attend a wedding, and even a death announcement in a small countryside village. We were fully immersed in the culture, food, noise, and colors—it was incredible!
The hotels and guesthouses we chose were very clean and mostly quiet. We’re returning from India with amazing discoveries!
We’re happy to share more info if you’d like!
M-Claire and Jean
This catchy and somewhat mysterious title comes from several questions I’ve been asking myself.
VF has been back open for a reasonable number of weeks and months now.
The number of visitors overall matches past averages, but the number of members online in the last 24 hours seems relatively lower than what we used to see.
Yet, to my surprise, I’m seeing fewer travel journals, way fewer messages, and way fewer questions.
I don’t see many new registered users online, and I notice a number of members who are logged in but either aren’t participating or have stopped participating.
Something’s not adding up for me because, in my opinion, VF is still appealing, and I don’t see which other sites could really compete.
Was there a real break between pre- and post-Covid?
Does it just take more time for some people to discover the site or learn that it’s active again?
Do people now prefer quick consumption on sites like FB or others I’m not familiar with?
Where have the site’s old-timers gone, and what are they doing with their time now?
What’s really going on here?
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