Ouf, nous sommes enfin dans le 747 qui va nous amener à Manille.
L'avion est plein comme un œuf. A Roissy, on nous a dit qu'il était surbooké de 73 places.
Du coup, nous ne regrettons plus d'être arrivés un peu trop en avance. Nous avions prévu plus de temps que d'habitude à cause des factures de médicaments à faire viser par la Douane. En fait, l'opération a pris 5 mn. Aucun contrôle, il fallait seulement le double des factures que j'avais eu la bonne idée d'apporter.
Ensuite 55 mn de vol dans un B737 où nous étions bien serrés pour arriver à Francfort. Une heure plus tard, nous embarquons dans le 747, en premier SVP, grâce au jeune âge de Marc. Plus tard, nous regretterons le temps où voyager avec des enfants nous donnait des petits privilèges.
Lundi 20/10 22H
Manille, grande chambre d'hôtel impersonnelle, deux lits d'une personne seulement, mais deux grandes pièces et une banquette pour 1800P (les chambres à 1500P étant soi-disant toutes prises), et il y a une piscine.
Pour la conversion des pesos en euros, ce n'est pas évident : 1€=63P, mais en francs, c'est très simple puisque 10P=1F. On va se retrouver à penser en francs alors que je fais la guerre à la maison pour qu'on n'en parle plus.
Nous devrions dormir car demain, nous nous levons à 6h pour prendre l'avion à 8h, mais pour notre horloge interne, il n'est que 16h. De plus, on se croirait à New-York à cause des incessants hurlements des sirènes que nous entendons depuis l'arrivée à l'hôtel. Eric a remarqué en descendant à la piscine un énorme incendie à 300m environ. D'où les sirènes. On dirait que tous les pompiers de Manille (12 millions d'habitants) convergent vers notre chambre.
Pour dîner, nous sommes allés dans les rues adjacentes à l'hôtel et nous avons fini par manger dans la rue une soupe avec une assiette de riz et porc adobo, 190P pour nous 4. La sauce adobo est LA sauce philippine : sauce brune au soja, vinaigre et sucre. Nous voilà très vite dans le bain. Pas vu de blanc depuis notre arrivée à l'hôtel.
Les sirènes continuent, le sommeil risque d'être léger.
Vivement demain, Puerto Princesa devrait être beaucoup plus calme.
Mardi 21/10 le soir
Fin de la première journée, souvent la plus délicate dans ce genre de voyage.
L'incendie d'hier était un très gros sinistre, c'est une gare de bus qui a brûlé, le feu s'étendant ensuit au bidonville voisin. Curieusement, la municipalité voulait récupérer le terrain du bidonville pour des projets immobiliers, mais les habitants s'y opposaient. Plus maintenant.
Pour arriver à Palawan, tout s'est passé comme prévu, après une nuit où personne n'a bien dormi sauf … moi. Incroyable. Une heure d'avion et nous voilà dans le petit aéroport provincial de Puerto. Nous récupérons les bagages et sortons.
Nous repérons immédiatement Lucie. Apparence sans surprise : femme brune, alerte, cheveux courts, lunettes, pas de maquillage. Pourrait interpréter une infirmière dans un téléfilm. Premier contact chaleureux. Elle est venue avec un couple d'amis philippins et leur véhicule, sorte de mini-songthaew (pour ceux qui connaissent la Thaïlande) bien pourri appelé ici multicab.
Ouf, c'en est fini des 40 kg de médicaments et de vêtements que nous avons apportés pour le dispensaire.
10 mn plus tard, nous voilà à la pension où habite Lucie quand elle descend à Puerto.
Le temps de poser les bagages et nous nous asseyons à l'extérieur avec Lucie. Nous avons bien sûr beaucoup à nous dire. Nous ne nous connaissons que par internet, il y a donc beaucoup de curiosité réciproque.
Comme nous l'avions deviné, son assoc se résume à 2 membres actifs, Lucie et Bernard, son ex-compagnon qui s'occupe de l'intendance en France. Le projet de dispensaire est un projet personnel de Lucie qu'elle mijote depuis une vingtaine d'années. Elle a attendu que ses 3 enfants (20, 23 et 25 ans maintenant) soient autonomes pour se lancer. Elle a beaucoup voyagé en Asie, avec en arrière-pensée le choix du pays où elle installerait son dispensaire. Elle a finalement choisi Palawan, à cause des besoins bien sûr, mais aussi parce que la majorité des habitants se débrouille bien en anglais.
Le financement est en grande partie personnel. Le projet de couplage du dispensaire avec l'orphelinat a été abandonné, le directeur français de l'orphelinat étant parti avec la caisse après des rumeurs (fondées semble-t-il) de pédophilie (!). L'établissement est maintenant fermé.
Après quelques heures de papotage, nous allons faire un tour en ville. La pension est située en plein centre.
Un bol de nouilles dans un resto viet, pas terribles, rien à voir avec les vietnamiens de l'avenue d'Ivry.
Il y a sur Palawan, une minorité viet. A l'époque des boat people, les Philippines ont accueilli sou la pression "amicale" des USA, un contingent de réfugiés. Une partie d'entre eux a été installée sur Palawan où ils se sont assez bien intégrés. Il y a un quartier vietnamien, à la périphérie de Puerto, après l'aéroport.
Un petit tour chez un money changer pour changer quelques euros.
Tout ça sans quitter l'avenue Rizal, épine dorsale de la ville qui n'a, de ce qu'on a vu aujourd'hui, aucun charme. Le pays est pauvre et ça se voit.
Rizal est saturée de tricycles (prononcer à l'anglaise traillecikeul), sortes de tuk-tuk en plus rustique (si, si, c'est possible) qui créent un nuage de fumée puante nimbant tout le centre ville. Il y en avait 3000 à Puerto, mais le maire a récemment limité le nombre à 2000. C'est LE moyen de transport pour se déplacer en ville. Tarif : 4P/pers si la distance ne dépasse pas 2km ; au-delà, il faut négocier. On peut tenir à 5 dedans dont une personne sur la selle derrière le chauffeur. Ca paraît dingue, mais nous l'avons fait.
Petite sieste, puis nous allons dîner dans un des meilleurs restos de la ville, le Ka Lui, encore sur Rizal. Très belle salle joliment décorée avec parquet de bambou sur lequel nous marchons pieds nus.
Pidio, le petit ami philippin de Lucie, nous accompagne. Il parle si doucement que nous avons du mal à le comprendre. Il est à Palawan pour son travail qui consiste à cartographier les zones de forêt vierge de l'île à partir de photos du satellite Spot, puis à vérifier sur place. Il est originaire de Manille.
Le repas, constitué de plusieurs plats de poissons et crustacés est délicieux. Nous ne laissons rien. En amuse-gueule, nous avons dégusté des algues appelées ici "latok" et complètement inconnues chez nous. C'est croquant avec des vésicules qui craquent sous la dent et un goût de mer, un peu comme de l'huître.
Ne pas confondre latok et lamok (moustique).
Excellent repas, Lucie est étonnée de voir les garçons se régaler autant.
Mercredi 22/10, le soir
Hier, grosse nuit pour tout le monde (10 à 12 heures de sommeil selon les cas).
Temps toujours menaçant. Un typhon passe près de nous, pas de chance.
Déjeuner chez les amis de Lucie qui nous ont accueillis à l'aéroport. Malgré les consignes de Lucie, ils avaient préparé un super repas avec latok, coquillages, poulet adobo, et deux poissons différents servis avec une délicieuse sauce aigre-douce, le tout accompagné d'un légume inconnu (y compris de Lucie) et de riz bien sûr. C'était aussi bon qu'au resto d'hier soir. Accueil chaleureux de toute la famille, frères sœurs, grands-parents, … etc… plus en special guest, un beau-frère soi-disant journaliste pour l'armée et membre des services secrets en réalité. Rond, jovial, gourmand et très sympa, il a déjà rendu pas mal de services à Lucie depuis qu'elle a décidé de s'installer ici.
Nous avons été reçus royalement alors que ce sont des gens très pauvres, Leia ne travaillant pas et Jong n'ayant pas de travail fixe. Leurs 2 fils de 8 et 10 ans (c'était l'anniversaire de ce dernier et nous lui avons offert 200P suivant le conseil de Lucie) étaient tétanisés et sont restés cloîtrés dans la petite maison.
Il occupent 2 pièces d'une maison à loyer réduit appartenant à leur église, les logements voisins étant occupés par les frères de Jong. Si j'ai bien compris, le père, très malade, était le chef de cette communauté religieuse, avant de passer le relais à un de ses fils.
Avec Lucie, Jong et Leia, nous sommes ensuite allés voir un zoo à la sortie de la ville. Sorte de réserve d'animaux spécifiques de Palawan, nous avons vu des crocodiles de mer et de rivière (les plus gros, jusqu'à 9m), un aigle serpentaire, des aigles pêcheurs, …, et un animal que nous ne connaissions pas, le bearcat, petit plantigrade spécifique de Palawan. Sympa et ça nous sortait un peu. Chance, il n'a pas plu pendant la visite.
Le soir dîner au resto Kinabusch, très bon. Calamars grillés sur plaque de bronze pour les garçons, même chose mais avec du poisson en plus pour AM et soupe aigre aux crevettes, spécialité du coin pour moi.
Pidio était avec nous. Il rentre demain à Manille pour 2 semaines de congés. Comme à chaque fois, il ira demain matin tôt au marché pour acheter 20 kg de poisson destiné à sa famille. Le poisson est nettement moins cher ici qu'à Manille.
Lucie semble bien amoureuse.
Au resto, impossible de tout payer malgré nos efforts, Pidio a même payé plus de la moitié (850P en tout pour nous 6).
Pidio est marié, enfin officiellement.
Aux Philippines, le divorce est interdit (toujours l'église catho), ce qui est embêtant quand on veut refaire sa vie. Le couple de Pidio ne marchait plus bien et sa santé non plus. Grosse fatigue et brûlures d'estomac. Pidio va faire des analyses et le médecin lui demande où il prend ses repas. Pidio répond qu'il mange toujours chez lui, le médecin lui conseille alors de manger à l'extérieur pendant quelques temps.
Son épouse avait une liaison et, voulant mettre un terme définitif à leur union, avait commencé à l'empoisonner.
Pidio est devenu méfiant avec les femmes.
Le soir, nous nous sommes esquivés tôt pour les laisser passer la soirée ensemble.
Après le déjeuner, coupure générale d'électricité, il paraît que ça arrive souvent ici. Le courant n'est revenu qu'en fin d'après-midi, juste avant la nuit.
Vendredi 24/10 9h
Sommes dans le bus de Port Barton attendant le départ, il pleut à seaux.
Hier, pluie quasi ininterrompue, ça devient pénible. Sommes allés à Luzviminda (LUZon-VIsaias-MINdanao, 3 îles dont sont originaires les habitants du village) pour voir la maison-dispensaire de Lucie. Elle a loué un multicab car celui de Jong est trop pourri pour faire la route. Il y a environ 80 kg de bagages dont les 2 sacs que nous avons apportés. Jong, Leia et leur plus jeune fils nous accompagnent.
Voyage très lent, 1h30 pour faire 35 km. Luziminda est sur la route du sud, et donne sur la baie de Puerto. C'est un village d'agriculteurs et de pêcheurs. Un petit sentier mène à une première grande maison. C'est celle d'un américain qui n'y passe que quelques jours par an. En son absence, son gardien Greg peut en user à sa guise. Greg est le propriétaire du terrain où Lucie a fait construire. Passé cette maison, nous suivons un sentier jusqu'à la maison de Lucie. La maison de Greg et Deborah est un peu plus loin.
Située sur une petite colline, la maison de Lucie est fonctionnelle. Une partie habitation de 30 m² avec un séjour-cuisine et 2 petites chambres, plus une salle d'eau attenante (non comptée dans les 30 m² ; une pièce de 20 m² pour le dispensaire. Une terrasse orientée ouest. Confort minimum, mais il y a quand même un frigo, une gazinière, une télé et 2 ensembles de fauteuils et canapés en bambou. Pas d'eau courante pour le moment, une pompe à main en contrebas.
Le site est agréable, on domine la verdure de laquelle émerge le toit de 3 habitations éparpillées.
La maison est construite sur une solide base de béton montant jusqu'à 50 cm du sol, puis des panneaux de bambou tressé qu'il faudra revernir régulièrement, de même qu'il faudra traiter souvent toutes les parties en bois contre les termites.
Comme trou perdu, c'est réussi. Il y a un sari-sari (épicerie) pas loin et c'est tout. Tout le reste doit être acheté à Puerto.
Nous aurions bien aimé faire une promenade pour découvrir les alentours et descendre jusqu'au port de pêche distant de 5 km, mais il pleut trop.
Sommes restés sur la terrasse de 11h à 16h avec Lucie, Greg et Deborah, Jong et Leia, et leur fils qui s'est enfin déridé et qui joue bien avec Marc. Ils ont passé des heures à jouer avec 3 élastiques, ça change des tonnes de jouets dont nos enfants ne se servent pas.
Deborah va aider Lucie au dispensaire qui ouvrira dans quelques semaines. Elle a l'air très gentille, mais ne parle pas bien anglais.
De retour à Puerto, je fais un saut au seul hypermarché de l'île, le NCCC qui se trouve tout près de la pension et y achète du rhum et du coca pour prendre l'apéro avec Lucie.
A l'entrée du magasin, il y a une pancarte qui demande de déposer ses armes à la consigne. Tout le monde se fait palper avant de pénétrer dans la grande surface.
Devant chaque banque, il y a un garde armé d'un fusil à pompe. J'ai demandé à Lucie s'il y avait souvent des braquages, réponse : non. C'est peut-être du folklore.
Après l'apéritif, nous allons dîner au Balinsasayaw, grand et excellent resto qui se trouve dans une rue parallèle à Rizal. Eric et moi partageons un plat de poisson cru mariné au kalamansi (petits agrumes de la forme d'une grosse bille et dont le jus a un goût entre le citron et la clémentine) et bien épicé et de succulents travers de porc.
Pendant le dîner, nous reparlons de ce que nous voulons faire le lendemain. Au début, nous avions prévu d'aller à Sabang pour voir la fameuse rivière souterraine, mais la route passe par un gué et il est tombé tellement d'eau que nous risquons de pas pouvoir passer.
Lucie nous parle alors de Narra, un bled à 1h30 de route au sud, où un de ses copains tient un hôtel avec piscine au bord de la plage. Elle lui envoie un SMS pour savoir s'il y a de la place (3 bungalows seulement), auquel cas elle viendrait avec nous. Malheureusement, c'est plein.
Nous décidons alors d'aller à Port Barton. C'est un petit village sur une plage de la côte ouest, à 150km au nord de Puerto, soit entre 4 et 12h (!) de jeepney. De là, nous pourrons éventuellement aller à Sabang en banca (bateaux traditionnels à double balancier) ou repartir vers Taytay et El Nido. Nous avons besoin de bouger, rester coincés à Puerto sous la pluie nous plombe le moral, surtout Anne-Marie qui est arrivée fatiguée et qui a mal dormi depuis.
Retour à l'hôtel. Après le coucher des enfants, nous nous retrouvons dehors avec Lucie et Roberto, le proprio de l'hôtel et ami de Lucie. Je ressors le rhum et nous finissons la soirée en rigolant bien, Roberto est très amusant et le rhum philippin n'est pas mauvais du tout, il fait penser au rhum cubain. Précisons que j'ai acheté la qualité supérieure, vieillie en fûts de chêne, à moins de 2 euros la bouteille. Roberto fait partie d'une des grandes familles de Puerto et il nous raconte plein d'histoires.
Revenons à aujourd'hui.
Nous sommes donc installés dans le jeepney de Port Barton attendant le départ.
Le terminal de bus et le marché ont récemment été déplacés du centre ville vers San Jose, un village à quelques km de Puerto afin de désengorger Puerto.
Mais il y a toujours des bus qui partent du centre et qui font un arrêt à San Jose.
Ici, rien n'est vraiment certain.
Ce matin, Pete, l'employé de nuit de la pension, très gentil et serviable, est allé vérifier que l'unique bus quotidien pour Port Barton partait bien du centre à 9h et nous a réservé des places.
Nous arrivons en tricycle à 8h45. Le chauffeur nous dit qu'il ne partira qu'à 10h.
Il pleut à verse et nous n'avons pas vu Lucie ce matin. La reverrons-nous ? Nous n'en savons rien, n'ayant alors aucune idée de notre itinéraire. De plus, il est possible de quitter Palawan par El Nido en avion ou bateau.
Les conditions de voyage sont beaucoup plus rudes qu'en Thaïlande. Si le temps ne s'améliore pas rapidement, nous allons vers la galère.
A 10h, le chauffeur vient spontanément nous prévenir que nous partirons un peu plus tard car il pleut trop. Pourquoi ?
A 10h30, la pluie est moins forte et nous partons. Nous comprenons tout de suite le problème du chauffeur : il n'y a pas d'essuie-glaces ! D'ailleurs, il n'y a pas de vitres au fenêtres, comme dans tous les jeepneys. Il y a tout de même un pare-brise que le chauffeur soulève en le maintenant ouvert avec un tasseau quand il ne pleut pas trop.
A 11h, nous sommes enfin sur la route, seule route goudronnée de l'île, dénommée sans honte "highway" et correspondant à une départementale en France. Le jeepney roule à bonne allure et à 14h, nous quittons la highway pour la piste de Port Barton. Jusque là, pas de problème, le jeepney s'arrête souvent pour embarquer ou débarquer des passagers et nous avons fait une pause déjeuner de 20 mn.
Maintenant, il s'agit de traverser l'île dans sa largeur (ici 22 km) par une piste de terre. Nous sommes optimistes et pensons qu'une heure suffira. Quelle erreur ! La piste est détrempée, parsemée d'ornières boueuses. Comme l'île est montagneuse, c'est une succession de montées et de descentes assez raides. Le jeepney part plusieurs fois en dérapage. AM et moi sommes assez crispés mais les enfants s'amusent bien. Il faut juste que le passager côté jungle fasse très attention à ne pas prendre de branche d'arbre dans la figure. Après la première fois, on est vigilant.
Une femme nous raconte que, de temps à autre, le jeepney se retrouve coincé ou en panne et que les passagers doivent alors passer la nuit sur place. Elle-même y a eu droit quelques mois auparavant. Entendant cela, AM flippe à l'idée de passer la nuit dans la jungle avec les moustiques, sangsues et autres bestiaux inquiétants.
La femme se marre et je me demande si elle n'est pas un peu taquine.
Le chauffeur Toto est un as et connaît la route par cœur. Il faut dire qu'il ne fait que cet itinéraire avec son propre jeepney dénommé "Tiger" et qu'il habite Port Barton.
Nous avons droit à tout excepté l'accident et la panne, ce qui est déjà bien.
Un pont est endommagé, nous descendons tous et traversons le pont à pied avant d'observer la manœuvre de Toto. Nous nous enlisons 3 fois. La première, les 2 jeunes acolytes du chauffeur et des passagers du bus remplissent les ornières de pierres et nous passons. Les 2 suivantes, le jeepney est bien coincé et se dégage grâce au treuil intégré à l'avant comme sur un 4X4.
Une fois, au moment de descendre, un passager empêche Marc de saisir une barre verticale, montrant nonchalamment un ver qui se tortille sur la barre. C'est une sangsue ! Je la prends avec un mouchoir en papier et la jette.
Nous arrivons finalement à bon port (Barton) à 16h30, donc nous avons mis 2h30 pour 22km.
Nous nous installons à l'Eldorado, au nord du village. La GH est vide de touristes.
Dîner sur place préparé par la patronne Lucy, une veuve philippine d'une cinquantaine d'années, très accueillante. Son mari était un australien né en Norvège dont elle a eu deux enfants, un garçon de 8 ans et une fille de 10. Alors que le garçon fait philippin, la fille, déjà très grande, offre un mélange étonnant, on dirait une scandinave aux yeux bridés et aux cheveux noirs, très jolie.
Très rapidement, Marc joue avec le petit garçon. Souvent, les gens pensent que voyager avec des enfants est un handicap alors que c'est souvent un moyen d'approcher plus vite les locaux.
Espérons que le soleil se montre enfin demain. Port Barton a l'air très sympa et nous n'avons pas vu de touriste, le seul étranger étant Mike qui nous a invité à passer chez lui où il vit avec son jeune compagnon philippin.
Nous voulions venir ici, pour changer des pays un peu trop balisés que sont La Thaïlande, Bali ou la Malaisie, c'est réussi.
Super, lu deux fois, que du rêve comme je l'aime et vrai que d'enmener les enfants ouvrent la porte aux rencontres, et ceux ci n'en ressortent que plus riches pour leur vie future ......
Palawan une de mes envies ....... tu fais une suite parceque là pour le coup, j'en redemande vraiment .......
Miam... J'aurais bien aimé partager ce rhum coca avec Lucie, Pidio, toi, ta petite famille... Vous joindre à ces petits restos de poissons, faire la route dans la jungle pour arriver à un Eldorado sans autres touristes/voyageurs...
Merci pour ces rêves, cher Piaf.
As tu visité les fonds sous marins? Qu'est ce que la nature doit y être belle... J'imagine la mer aux couleurs royales, les petits bateaux à double balanciers, et puis des aigles pêcheurs et des aigles serpentaires...
Merci tout plein 😎 On attend la suite!!!
Fainéanter dans un monde neuf est la plus absorbante des occupations... (N.Bouvier)
... 🙂 Lepiaf en vacances ? Mais où ? A l'autre bout de la planète ? Là où il n'y a pas l'ombre d'un touriste, je suppose ?
Blague à part, quelles aventures pour les deux petits "piafs" qui s'en souviendront toute leur vie, et marcheront sûrement dans les pas de leurs parents baroudeurs : ce gène se transmet automatiquement !...
Bonnes vacances à toute la famille. A bientôt sur VF.
Fabricia -
Comme une eau, le monde vous traverse et pour un temps vous prête ses couleurs... ("L'Usage du Monde" - Nicolas Bouvier)
je découvre un peu de cet archipel grâce à toi, et j'aime beaucoup ce que je lis : encore un endroit de plus sur ma liste "projets futurs", qui s'allonge, s'allonge...!
merci d'avoir partagé ces souvenirs avec nous, et si tu as quelques photos dans tes tiroirs, on est preneurs
Seshat
Aimer s'instruire, être curieux, attentif, admirer, s'émouvoir, essayer de comprendre ce qui nous entoure... essayer de se coucher un peu moins con chaque soir !(Anna Gavalda)
Réveil vers 6h, j'entends un bruit d'eau qui tombe à seaux. Aïe, c'est reparti. Je me lève et me rends à la salle d'eau. Le bruit provient du robinet ouvert. L'eau courante est revenue. Je jette alors un coup d'œil dehors, miracle, il fait enfin beau.
Je sors nager. Sable blanc et fin, eau limpide à une température idéale, environ 28°C. La plage de Port Barton est parfaite, assez longue et bordée de cocotiers. Il n'y a évidemment personne. Hélas, pas de snorkelling, pour cela, il faut prendre une banca et aller un peu plus loin dans la baie sur des îlots coralliens.
Ouf, avec le soleil, le moral remonte en flèche. Farniente sur la plage, bains, repas, sieste, plage.
Je passe seul chez Alan un peu avant midi, comme il me l'avait proposé la veille. Sa maison est située à côté de l'église, au centre du village. L'église est marrante, car elle n'a pas de mur. Elle est vaste par rapport à la taille du village et est pleine à chaque messe, et c'est amusant de regarder les fidèles et les entendre chanter.
Alan et Leo, son jeune compagnon philippin en sont au breakfast et m'accueillent aimablement. Alan me fait visiter la maison en expliquant tous ses projets. La maison est déjà bien agréable et le sera encore plus quand la nouvelle cuisine et la salle d'eau seront terminées. Il me rassure quant au palu en m'expliquant qu'il vient ici depuis 8 ans, qu'il ne s'est jamais protégé sinon un coup de bombe dans sa chambre le soir et qu'il n'a jamais eu de problème.
Ayant expliqué à Alan que nous souhaitions nous rendre à El Nido en banca (bateau traditionnel à double balancier), il me dit qu'il connaît des gars de confiance qui pourraient nous y amener, rester avec nous 2 jours pour le island hopping (excursions sur les nombreuses îles de la baie) et nous ramener à Port Barton. Alan l'a fait avec eux en mars dernier pour 6000P. Les gars couchent sur le bateau. Pour le déjeuner, on leur donne de l'argent et ils achètent du poisson qu'il font griller au déjeuner.
Le soir, apéro avec Alan, Leo et les deux boatmen, Luong et Boy. Nous commençons à discuter des dates et des conditions. Quand j'aborde la question du prix, Luong me répond plus tard. OK, nous finissons l'apéro, Lucy nous apporte le repas (grosses crevettes grillées accompagnées de légumes sautés excellents et de riz). Dans l'après-midi, j'ai fait quelques courses et acheté une bouteille de patis, le nuoc-mam local dont nous arrosons le riz.
Puis retour au bar où les 4 lascars ont continué à écluser des bières. Le bavardage avec Alan reprend. Il nous parle de son évolution personnelle, de son boulot d'entrepreneur en BTP avec 23 salariés, du stress, jusqu'à la situation actuelle, 6 mois par an aux Phil et 6 mois à bosser en Australie en indépendant avec main d'œuvre en sous-traitance. Il se fait payer cash et paye ses dépenses cash. Pas d'impôt et tout le fric est déposé dans les banques philippines.
Enfin, je dis qu'il est temps de parler prix. La négociation commence. Alan s'éclipse assez vite. Luong nous propose 9000P. Beaucoup trop cher pour nous.. Après de longues négociations et des parlotes entre Luong et Boy en tagalog, nous obtenons le prix que nous souhaitions, 5000P. Sachant que l'aller simple pour El Nido coûte 2500P, c'est correct. Ce prix nous permet même de ne pas revenir à Port Barton si nous le souhaitons.
Dimanche 26/10, 21h
Journée encore une fois un peu gâchée par la pluie.
Nous avons loué les services d'un boatman, dénommé Bong, pour faire une journée de snorkelling dans la vaste et belle baie de Port Barton. Premier arrêt sur un ilôt, spot pas terrible, peu de coraux vivants et de poissons. Pendant que nous trempons, les 2 boatmen préparent le feu pour le poisson que j'ai acheté le matin avec Bong. Quand le poisson est cuit, nous le mangeons avec le riz que Lucy nous a fourni et notre patis perso.
Entre-temps, 2 bateaux sont arrivés remplis de philippins, une cinquantaine de 1 à 92 ans (nous avons demandé). Ils ont apporté un pique-nique de pros pour fêter un anniversaire. Vers la fin de notre repas, un des philippins nous offre un plateau contenant un assortiment de pâtes en sauce, des gâteaux cuits à la vapeur et du riz de couleur brune, cuit avec de la banane, du lait de coco et du sucre. Le riz et les gâteaux sont délicieux. Voyant que nous apprécions, on nous en rapporte une bonne quantité. C'est beaucoup trop. Ils offrent ensuite du coca aux garçons et du coca/brandy aux adultes. Nous bavardons un moment avec le chef du groupe qui est le vice-maire de San Vicente, bourg le plus proche de Port Barton à 15 mn de banca.
Le fait que beaucoup de phils parlent anglais est vraiment un plus par rapport à d'autre pays d'Asie. Cela facilite grandement les contacts. De plus, les philippins que nous avons rencontrés sont dans l'ensemble ouverts et amicaux.
Nous repartons vers un autre spot de snorkelling appelé "aquarium reef", le récif aquarium, avec un nom comme ça, on devrait voir des poissons. Pour y arriver, nous traversons la grande baie et, en particulier, un gigantesque élevage d'huîtres perlières de 5500 ha à capitaux japonais. Le spot est mieux que le premier, mais l'eau n'est pas limpide à cause du typhon et, en l'absence de soleil, la lumière est insuffisante. Nous voulons du beau temps !
Au retour, nous prenons RV avec Bong pour qu'il nous guide demain jusqu'à une cascade à 1 heure de marche dans la jungle. Alan m'a prévenu hier qu'il y avait des sangsues. Je n'en parle pas à AM qui en a peur, mais je dois penser à prendre du sel. Lucie nous a dit que c'était le meilleur moyen pour les faire tomber, car chacun sait qu'on ne doit jamais arracher une sangsue qui se régale. Alan a un autre truc, il se badigeonne les jambes et les pieds d'huile de table pour empêcher les sangsues de s'accrocher.
En fin d'après-midi, je passe chez Alan boire une bière et discuter. Il se remet à tomber des cordes jusqu'à 19h.
Repas de crabes et bitiks, sorte de grosses cigales de mer à tête plate inconnues chez nous (mais pas en Australie où c'est très recherché d'après Alan), dont la chair est plus fine et moelleuse que celle de la langouste.
Lundi 27/10, 15H
Nous avons attendu Bong, mais il n'est pas venu. Comme il paraît que la cascade est facile à trouver, nous décidons de partir seuls.
Les premiers km sont parcourus aisément sur un large chemin, nous montons un peu et dominons des rizières où travaille un paysan avec son buffle, vision dont ne nous lassons pas.
Nous arrivons à la rivière et passons un premier gué. Plus loin, le chemin disparaît, il faut marcher dans l'eau et AM rebrousse par crainte des sangsues, pourtant je ne lui avais rien dit.
Nous continuons sans elle, cherchant le sentier en remontant le lit de la rivière. Nous trouvons enfin le sentier, mais il est tellement boueux que nous pataugeons. Nous savons être sur le bon chemin grâce à 2, 3 panneaux.
Après un panneau indiquant "waterfall 100m", puis un second identique 200m plus loin, le chemin s'arrête et il n'y a pas de chute, juste un joli torrent avec un bassin où l'on peut se baigner.
Je laisse les enfants et remonte le long du torrent pour essayer de trouver la chute. Première sangsue sur la cuisse, mais je la repère avant qu'elle ne suce et l'éjecte d'une chiquenaude. Ne trouvant rien, je reviens et trouve Marc un peu pâlot, culotte baissée, une tâche de sang sur la hanche. Eric et Marc se sont bien débrouillés. Je leur avais bien dit de ne pas paniquer et surtout de ne pas arracher une sangsue. Eric a trouvé le sel dans mon sac et a fait tomber la sangsue. Je les félicite, réconforte Marc et nous nous baignons dans le bassin. L'eau doit être à 25°C, très agréable. Ensuite nous décidons de revenir par le lit de la rivière, plus sympathique que le sentier boueux. Arrivés sur la piste, c'est moi qui me chope une sangsue au pied. Un peu se sel et on rentre.
Nous arrivons vers 2 heures, AM commençait juste à s'inquiéter. Nous lui disons avoir vu un croco dans la rivière. AM nous croit et prend la nouvelle calmement. Même pas drôle. En tout cas, nous avons démystifié les sangsues et les enfants font les fiers devant leur maman.
Averse juste après notre arrivée, nous avons été chanceux.
Dernière soirée à Port Barton en compagnie d'Alan, Leo et Lucy. Alan semble très attaché à Leo et ce dernier n'a pas l'air malheureux. Alan l'a rencontré il y a 2 ans à Manille où il vivait dans des conditions misérables. Depuis ils ne se quittent plus quand Alan est aux Phil. Il a même le projet de l'emmener en Australie l'an prochain.
Demain départ prévu à 6h. Très peu de pluie aujourd'hui, pourvu que cela dure.
Le lendemain à 5h30, Boy nous réveille. Nous ne serons pas en retard.
C'est parti pour 5h de banca avec un moteur assourdissant, genre marteau-piqueur. C'est long. Heureusement, il fait beau et le paysage est superbe.
En entrant dans la vaste baie de El Nido, nous ne savons où poser les yeux tellement le paysage est splendide avec les ilôts karstiques éparpillés.
Nous arrivons enfin à El Nido, village pauvre avec une plage moins accueillante que celle de port Barton. Nous parcourons tout le village pour trouver un hôtel qui nous plaise, hélas …
Nous choisissons finalement le Gloria's beach cottage et 2 vastes chambres situées au 1er étage avec balcon donnant sur la plage, un peu plus cher et moins bien qu'à Port Barton.
Heureusement, nous avons notre banca personnelle et nous allons faire du snorkelling sur l'île la plus proche, Cadlao. Nous sommes bien, seuls sur une petite plage, beaux coraux mais peu de poissons. L'eau est plus claire qu'à Port Barton, il y a du soleil, nous sommes heureux.
Au retour Boy nous conduit chez un changeur chinois qui tient une épicerie où nous changeons 300 USD. Nous n'avons plus de problème de pesos.
Etonnant, sur un site aussi célèbre que El Nido, il n'y a ni banque, ni accès internet alors qu'il y a un petit aérodrome et 2 resorts de luxe.
Il y a un peu plus de touristes qu'à Port Barton, ce n'est pas difficile, mais assez peu tout de même.
Mercredi 29/10, 18h
Aujourd'hui, "island hopping" sur Miniloc et ses 2 lagons cachés, déjeuner sur Simisu. Snorkelling à gogo, puis poisson grillé par nos boatmen, assaisonné de kalamansi et patis, riz et bananes. Adossés à un tronc de bois flotté, seuls sur une petite plage de sable blanc, nous mangeons avec les doigts. Le bonheur.
Nous voyons approcher un hors-bord qui dépose un jeune couple de japonais. Ils semblent déçus de nous voir. On leur dresse à l'autre extrémité de la plage une table avec nappe, couvert et 2 chaises pour un pique-nique en amoureux. Décalage, nous sommes hilares ainsi que les boatmen.
Puis, le vent ayant forci, nous renonçons à Helicopter island et nous rabattons sur un lagon abrité de Cadlao island. Chouette snorkelling en compagnie d'Eric. Je remonteun bénitier fraîchement ouvert par des pêcheurs. Bien que le site soit protégé, il y du braconnage.
Dîner chez Lali & Abett, le plus gros hôtel de El Nido, où la cuisine est paraît-il correcte. Cet hôtel nous intéresse aussi, car nous savons qu'il y a une famille francophone avec 2 petites filles.
Après le repas, pendant que les garçons rejoignent les filles qui regardent un dessin animé sur le PC portable du père, nous faisons connaissance avec les parents. Ils sont brésiliens, arrivés récemment (en août) à Palawan pour un contrat de 2 ans. Oliver travaille pour un cabinet de consultants chargé par le gouvernement philippin de promouvoir le tourisme dans le nord de Palawan. Il y a de quoi faire. Ils viennent de Paris où ils ont passé 3 ans. Avant, ils avaient vécu 4 ans et demi aux USA où les deux filles sont nées. Ce qui explique qu'ils parlent tous les 4 anglais et français, en plus du portugais.
Les filles sont ravies de parler français, ça leur manque depuis qu'elles sont ici.
Nous les trouvons très sympas et Emilia se montre intéressée par le projet de Lucie dont je donne les coordonnées. La transition Paris/Puerto a été brutale et l'adaptation difficile. Bien qu'étant dans des écoles réputées de Puerto où la langue officielle est l'anglais, beaucoup d'enfants et même l'instit de la plus jeune ne parlent que le tagalog. La maman craint que les filles oublient le français.
La vie d'expat avec enfants n'est pas simple.
Nous nous quittons sans prévoir de nous revoir.
Jeudi 30/10, 18h
Y a-t-il un hasard ? Sur les centaines de plages disséminées sur les îles de la baie, il a fallu que les brésiliens et nous nous retrouvions pour déjeuner sur la même.
Ils sont décidément très sympas et nous passerons les voir à Puerto.
2ème journée de island hopping. Beaucoup plus de banca qu'hier, mais nous avons vu de belles choses. Grottes, poissons, coraux et îles à gogo.
Nous avons juste loupé la secret beach sur Matinloc parce que le boatman n'a pas voulu s'approcher, de crainte d'abîmer son bateau.
Vendredi 31/10, 17h
De retour à Port Barton. 5h de banca, fatigant. Nous retrouvons l'Eldorado avec plaisir.
Lucy est partie pour la Toussaint se recueillir sur la tombe de son mari à Puerto. Dan, son associé chicagoan à gueule de mafioso, la remplace, mais malheureusement il ne cuisine pas. Alan est parti ce matin pour l'Australie.
Pour la suite du voyage, nous avons changé nos plans de nombreuses fois. Nous pouvions partir sur Coron (Busuanga island) puis remonter sur Manille. Nous avons finalement préféré revenir à Port Barton, puis passer à Sabang avant Puerto. Nous voulons revoir Lucie et les brésiliens.
Sur les conseils de Dan qui est adorable, nous partons demain pour un resort situé sur une île déserte à une petite heure de banca de Port Barton. Dan nous a assuré que nous ne le regretterions pas. Nous comptons y rester 2 ou 3 jours.
Samedi 1/11, 14h
Sieste. Nous sommes les seuls clients d'un resort de rêve sur une île déserte. En arrivant, on ne voit même pas les bungalows cachés derrière les cocotiers. L'endroit est aménagé avec goût. Les bungalows sont espacés, jolis extérieurement et corrects intérieurement. Prix négociés à 400P (prix en saison : 640P). Belle plage, chouette snorkelling à 20m. Bungalows adossés à la jungle. Pas de coq, mais un macaque qui n'aime malheureusement pas les enfants (il a mordu Marc). Eric est assez grand pour ne plus être considéré comme un enfant par le singe. Bref, que du bon, sauf pour Marc.
Le personnel est charmant. Les proprios sont un couple suisso (Henri)-philippin (Cora). Seule Cora est là. Le serveur PG est une grande folle de 20 ans qui ne cherche qu'à nous faire plaisir. Déjeuner de poisson avec buco (noix de coco fraîche) cueillie dans l'arbre à la demande. Nous sommes les premiers clients depuis 15 jours.
Nous entamons la 3ème et dernière semaine.
Dimanche 2/11, 10h
Le soir, le générateur s'arrête à 21h, c'est tôt. Donc dodo et lever très tôt.
Grasse matinée jusqu'à 7h puis snorkelling. J'adore ce genre d'endroit où on peut commencer la journée en allant dire bonjour aux poissons. Petit-déjeuner à 8h, puis glande. C'est bon de ne rien faire dans ces conditions.
Un peu d'animation, un bateau accoste à 9h30. A bord, 5 personnes, 1 japonais et 4 philippins dont 1 femme et 1 garde du corps armé d'un PM. Ils viennent de la ferme perlière pour pique-niquer et surtout picoler sur la plage. Ils attaquent tout de suite à la bière. Zut, ils ont pris le coin le plus agréable de la plage avec les hamacs à l'ombre. C'est notre coin, mais n'ayant pas de garde armé, nous ne disons rien.
Le seul problème ici, ce sont les repas. Comme il n'y avait personne, il n'y a pas beaucoup de produits frais d'avance et aujourd'hui, il n'y a même pas de poisson. Un comble ici. Et pas question de trouver un autre resto. Le bateau de l'hôtel est parti ce matin, espérons qu'il revienne avec des vivres.
Le temps est beau et chaud, en amélioration constante depuis une semaine.
Une question : restons-nous 2 ou 3 jours ? Il va falloir en discuter au déjeuner.
17h30
Décision unanime : nous restons 3 jours.
Pour le poisson, déception. Aujourd'hui est férié et personne ne travaille, même pas les pêcheurs.
Le groupe avec le japonais est reparti vers 16h. Après la bière, ils ont bu toute la journée du rhum-coca. Le jap était raide bourré, il a fallu l'aider à monter dans le bateau, ses 2 acolytes étaient allumés, la femme et le garde du corps n'avaient rien bu. Heureusement car ce dernier n'a pas quitté son arme.
Le couple de canards de l'hôtel effectue sa promenade vespérale sur la plage. Ils ne se quittent pas et sont comiques avec leur dandinement très digne. Le soir, ils sont enfermés à l'abri des chats sauvages. Marc court après le mâle et se fait engueuler par la femelle. L'air est délicieux comme tous les soirs et le ciel est très beau ce soir au couchant. Quelle magnifique journée nous avons vécu.
Je commence à penser au retour et ce n'est pas agréable. Je pense aussi à Lucie que j'espère revoir à Puerto. Demain lundi farniente, mardi Sabang, mercredi retour à Puerto pour voir Lucie, les brésiliens Oliver, Emilia et leurs filles Ligia et Georgia (tiens, encore des parents qui choisissent des prénoms aux sonorités voisines), relever et écrire les courriels, effectuer les derniers achats et manger dans les meilleurs restos.
Samedi, retour à Manille et bye bye. Reviendrons-nous un jour aux Phil ?
A chacun de nos voyages en ASE, je suis frustré car j'aimerais rester plus longtemps. Sur le plan financier, pas de problème car la vie est très bon marché, mais c'est impossible à cause des enfants.
Lundi 3/11, 11h
Sea, sex and sun.
J'ai eu la chance de nager avec une tortue ce matin. C'est la 1ère fois. Environ 50 cm de long, nage gracieuse, joie.
Le bateau de l'hôtel est allé à Port Barton. Le boatman Abi a acheté du poisson, mais pour un seul repas.
Constatation générale : l'organisation et la prévoyance ne sont pas des points forts des philippins que nous avons côtoyés.
Un peu plus tard, un bateau de pêcheurs s'arrête pour proposer du poisson fraîchement pêché, ce qui règle le problème pour ce soir. Le poisson est un magnifique lapu-lapu encore vivant, d'un rouge vermillon avec des dessins de couleur turquoise. C'est paraît-il un poisson très recherché, en particulier à Hong-Kong où on paye des fortunes pour pouvoir choisir un lapu-lapu vivant.
Suis allé dire bonjour au singe Jords qui, comme d'habitude, m'a manifesté son amitié en me cherchant les poux. Pour m'amuser, je l'ai pris dans mes bras et lui ai rendu la pareille. Il s'est complètement abandonné. Marrant.
Pour varier un peu, sommes allés faire une promenade dans la jungle par un sentier aménagé, mais pas entretenu depuis un moment. Y suis d'abord allé seul en fin de matinée, aperçu plusieurs singes d'espèces et de taille différentes, un faisan, un écureuil. Retournés en famille + PG en début d'après-midi, mais, hormis un serpent, nous n'avons pas vu d'animaux. Ils doivent faire la sieste.
Au retour, nous sommes en nage et filons à l'eau.
Arrive 16h, l'heure de la bière sur la plage en lisant jusqu'au coucher de soleil. Puis le générateur démarre, nous nous rabattons sur la terrasse. C'est l'heure du rhum-coca. Ensuite, dîner, puis lecture ou jeux de cartes avec PG jusqu'à 20h30. Coucher et extinction des feux.
Finalement, ça passe vite une journée au paradis.
Demain départ pour Sabang vers 8h00 avec le bateau de l'hôtel. Il y a 2h30 de banca et le bateau nous amène directement à la rivière souterraine et nous attend pour nous conduire ensuite à Sabang.
J'ai pas lâché le récit depuis le début ! voilà des partages écrits comme je les aime....voyageant également avec nos enfants, je me suis vu un instant aux Philippines....moi aussi je ne dis pas tout à ma femme😉...surtout pour ce qui est des bébêtes....
la suite s'il te plait.....😉
yann
Thailande, Maldives, Malaisie péninsulaire et Sabah, Kalimantan, Sulawesi, Moluques, Egypte, Sumatra. Archipel de Takabonerate l'été dernier.
www.voyagefamille.net
Voyagefamille.net
Nous quittons avec regret l'île de Cacnipa. PG est en larmes sur la plage quand la banca s'en va. Nous avons promis de lui écrire de France.
Il s'ennuie sur l'île surtout quand il n'y a pas de client comme en ce moment.
Ce qu'il aime, c'est danser en boîte ! Quand on travaille sur une île déserte, ce n'est pas facile.
Il est originaire d'une famille de pêcheurs de Port Barton.
C'est curieux cette société très coincée par la religion sur beaucoup de plans et qui tolère l'homosexualité bien mieux que nos sociétés occidentales. J'ai déjà remarqué ce fait dans d'autres pays d'Asie.
Nous arrivons sans problème à la rivière souterraine présentée comme la plus large et longue du monde. Elle fait partie d'un parc national. D'énormes varans paressent dans le bois qui jouxte l'entrée. Il paraît que les 2 sentiers traversant la jungle qui mènent du village à la rivière sont très agréables.
Pour visiter, il faut louer un bateau avec guide/pilote.
La rivière est vraiment impressionnante, très large, nous nous enfonçons sous la terre sur 3km. La rivière est 4 fois plus longue, mais la visite ne va pas plus loin.
Des centaines de milliers de chauves souris vivent là-dessous, tout du long, des concrétions calcaires énormes qui ont été nommées en fonction de leur forme, parfois sexuelle. Le guide est un comique qui connaît bien sa partition.
A la sortie, la banca nous attend et nous amène au village de Sabang. Il est midi.
Un car part pour Puerto à (vers) 14h. Que fait-on ? Un coup d'œil sur Sabang, c'est moche ; en plus, nous savons que le coin est très impaludé, donc nous décidons de partir.
En attendant l'heure du départ, nous causons avec un danois de 36 ans, moniteur de plongée en Thaïlande. Il est dégoûté de Palawan et ne pense qu'à se tirer. Chacun son trip.
Trajet effectué en 2h30, sportif, mais de la rigolade à côté de Puerto/Port Barton. Arrivés à Puerto, nous voulons aller à l'hôtel Casa Linda pour trouver un peu plus de confort qu'au El Rey. Le danois, qui veut y aller aussi, téléphone du bus avec son portable, c'est complet. Etonnant.
Nous arrivons de nuit, fatigués, et ne savons où aller. Nous nous rabattons sur El Rey, et retrouvons libres les chambres que nous occupions, le danois obtient aussi une chambre, à sa grande satisfaction.
Lucie n'est pas à l'hôtel, mais elle est à Puerto. Elle arrive un peu plus tard, très surprise de nous voir. Elle ne pensait pas que nous repasserions par Puerto.
Nous dînons au Balinsasayaw, toujours excellent.
Programme de demain : billets d'avion, recherche d'un hôtel plus confortable, internet, poste pour les cartes postales (on ne peut acheter des timbres qu'à la poste et Lucie m'a prévenu que cela risquait d'être long), shopping et copains brésiliens.
Mercredi 5/11
Le Casa Linda est encore complet. Dommage car c'est un hôtel bien agréable, au calme avec toutes les chambres donnant sur un joli jardin intérieur pour un prix très raisonnable (450P/chambre avec fan). Au Cas Linda, nous tombons sur une californienne originaire de Palawan que nous avions rencontrée à El Nido. Elle nous conseille quelques hôtels, dont un avec piscine pas très loin, le Moana. Nous nous y rendons à pied. C'est pas mal. Il y a de l'espace pour que les garçons puissent jouer, ce qui n'est pas le cas à El Rey, toutes les chambres donnent sur une piscine d'une petite vingtaine de mètres de long. Il y a 2 chambres libres avec fan. Prix de 650P/chambre que nous négocions à 585, à peine plus cher qu'à El Rey. La patronne est aimable, son mari Paolo est italien et ils sont associés à l'italien du Swissipini (Port Barton). Le monde est petit à Palawan.
Paolo nous emmène au El Rey avec son 4X4 et nous attend pendant que nous réglons la note et refermons les sacs en vitesse pour l'avant-dernière fois. A El Rey, je tombe sur un philippin d'une soixantaine d'années que nous avions rencontré sur l'île de Matinloc à El Nido. Décidémenyt, c'est le jour des retrouvailles.
Nous demandons à Ching, l'épouse de Pidio, de prévenir Lucie.
Avant la recherche d'un nouvel hôtel, nous sommes allés à l'aéroport acheter les billets d'avion à la PAL. 9280P (2148P/adulte), moins cher qu'à l'aller. L'employée de Manille me l'avait dit, mais je n'ai toujours pas compris pourquoi.
Encore avant, nous avons relevé le courriel. Alice, notre aînée, a eu son permis de conduire du 1er coup, super. Elle a fait une fête avec ses amis pour ses 18 ans. Ca a l'air d'aller, bien qu'elle s'inquiète d'être sans nouvelles depuis 2 semaines, nous l'avions pourtant prévenue.
Avant de nous installer dans notre nouvel hôtel, nous faisons quelques achats au NCCC : 8 cartouches de cigarettes pour AM (1 cartouche vaut le prix d'un paquet en France) et 4 bouteilles de rhum (à 110P !). Bonjour l'exemple pour les enfants !
Pour les timbres, j'ai attendu … 1 minute. Comme d'hab, ça se passe rarement comme prévu.
Ensuite piscine. C'est bon, car il fait beau et chaud, quel contraste avec la première semaine. Nous nous sentons bien dans cet hôtel et les enfants sont ravis de la piscine.
Plus tard.
Vers 16h, nous nous rendons à pied chez les brésiliens (20mn de marche). Emilia nous accueille très gentiment. Elle s'attendait à nous voir plus tôt et nous dit que les filles se désespéraient de nous revoir. C'est l'heure d'aller les chercher à l'école. Nous l'accompagnons dans sa voiture. Puis visite de la maison. Construite entièrement avec un très beau bois, elle est bien conçue avec un grand séjour, une grande cuisine, une buanderie, 2 chambres et 2 salles d'eau avec toilettes. Grande terrasse. Travaux en cours dans le jardin. Ils ont beaucoup investi pour rendre cette maison la plus agréable possible. Ils on fait construire une cabane sur pilotis pour les filles et un labo pour Oliver qui en rêvait (il a une formation de biologiste). Le plus gros défaut de la maison est le bruit, la rue est passante (c'est la deuxième avenue de la ville après Rizal) et les chambres donnent sur une ruelle empruntée matin et soir par plusieurs familles.
Le goût d'Emilia nous convient très bien et nous nous sentons très à l'aise dans cette maison.
Pendant que les enfants jouent, nous bavardons sur la terrasse en attendant Olivero. Emilia nous explique les quelques problèmes rencontrés avec les philippins, en particulier, le mal qu'ils ont à faire comprendre aux propriétaires et à leur nombreuse famille qu'il ne souhaitent pas les voir débarquer chez eux à n'importe quelle heure.
Oliver arrive du travail à vélo, il est lui aussi ravi de nous revoir. Nous dînons ensemble dans un resto que nous ne connaissions pas, le Backyards situé tout près de notre hôtel. Tables très espacées dans un jardin, chanteur à guitare qui égrène le répertoire folk US des années 70, Simon et Garfunkel, America, les Eagles … etc … C'est marrant de voir à quel point les philippins sont restés figés sur cette période musicale.
Ligia et Marc ne se quittent pas, ce qui rend Eric un peu jaloux. Emilia et Oliver sont surpris de voir Marc et Eric manger avec plaisir des plats dont ne veulent pas leurs filles. Le temps passe vite, la conversation est ininterrompue et très agréable. Sympathie réciproque. Ils ont fait le choix de voyager et ont déjà été dans un nombre de pays considérable. Emilia a fait des études en Russie et parle russe. Oliver est fils d'immigrés autrichiens et parle allemand. Ils parlent donc 4 langues chacun ! Et je soupçonne Oliver de se débrouiller dans d'autres langues comme l'espagnol et le néerlandais.
Emilia nous dit souffrir du manque de livres, et particulièrement de livres en français. En revenant à l'hôtel, nous lui donnons le seul livre que nous ayons lu tous les 2, un bon polar de Deon Meyer qui se passe en Afrique du sud.
Jeudi 6/11
Nuit correcte, couchés tôt, réveillés tôt. Nous laissons les garçons à la piscine et allons en ville. 1 heure d'internet, Alice nous a répondu et nous engueule presque de l'avoir laissée sans nouvelles, c'est le monde à l'envers.
Ensuite, nous flânons jusqu'à l'ancien marché couvert qui est en réalité toujours en activité. La règle ici, c'est qu'il n'y en a pas. On y trouve des vivres, mais aussi des vêtements et de l'artisanat. Sympa. Nous demandons le prix des crustacés : langouste à 400P/kg et bitiks à 200P/kg, dommage que nous ne puissions pas en rapporter.
Retour à l'hôtel à 11h30, piscine pour se rafraîchir, puis déjeuner au Badjao Seafront. Ce resto nous a été recommandé par les brésiliens. Il est situé à 5mn de la ville et la grande salle à manger est construite au dessus de la mangrove dans la baie de Puerto. Très agréable, nous commandons un menu collectif annoncé pour 5/6 personnes. Soupe délicieuse, cochon de lait rôti, thon grillé, salade de légumes marinés, kare-kare (tripes de buffle cuisinées avec un légume inconnu dans une sauce jaune très fine, servi avec une pâte de crevettes fermentées), riz bien sûr et assiette de fruits de saison (banane, papaye et ananas). Nous nous régalons sans penser que ce soir, nous dînons au Ka Lui, l'excellent resto du 1er jour. Il va falloir nager pour s'ouvrir l'appétit.
Du resto, nous nous rendons en tricycle à la ferme des papillons située à une petite dizaine de km. Sympa sans plus, mais ça occupe.
Lucie nous rejoint au Ka Lui où, malgré le copieux déjeuner, nous faisons honneur au repas. Elle nous raconte les dernières nouvelles du dispensaire, pas encore en activité. Elle a commandé une voiture, une espèce de jeep fabriquée sur place par un de ses amis philippins. Elle en a besoin pour les allers et retour Puerto/Luzviminda.
Vendredi 7/11
Dernier jour à Puerto.
Nous sommes retournés au marché pour le montrer aux enfants. Puis nous allons à NCCC et tombons sur Emilia. Nous prenons RV pour le dîner. 5 mn plus tard, nous croisons Lucie. Elle dînera avec nous ce soir, ce qui est parfait puisqu'Emilia voulait la rencontrer.
Ce qui est marrant, c'est que tout le monde ici nous prend pour des expats. Les philippins ne voient pas souvent de touristes avec enfants.
23h
Voilà, fin de la dernière soirée à Palawan. Nous avons dîné au Kinabusch et bavardé toute la soirée avec nos nouveaux amis et Lucie. Ligia et Marc ne se sont pas quittés, mais cette fois, Eric s'est occupé de Georgia.
Emilia voudrait faire venir une jeune fille au pair française pendant un an pour que ses filles continuent à parler français. Je lui ai dit que nous l'aiderions.
Nous leur avons donné toute la lecture que nous pouvions, 2 BD et un livre de Marc pour les enfants, plus "Les corrections" de Frantzen pour les parents.
On vient de leur installer une connexion ADSL et Emilia est ravie de retrouver un lien avec ses amis et sa famille.
Demain, début de la partie la plus pénible du voyage, le long retour vers la grisaille froide et humide de novembre chez nous, la routine quotidienne et les soucis.
Samedi 8/11, 14h
Resto de l'aéroport international NAIA.
Sommes partis de Palawan avec 40 mn de retard. En ai profité pour me faire masser dans la salle d'embarquement, sympa pour patienter en se détendant.
Une fois embarqués, le pilote commence par présenter ses excuses pour le retard en expliquant que l'aéroport domestique de la PAL a été complètement fermé pendant 2 heures ce matin pour une raison que je n'ai pas comprise. Le pilote dit aussi que de nombreux passagers sont déjà au courant.
C'est le taxi à Manille qui nous explique : 2 militaires opposants au régime ont investi la tour de contrôle et ont été abattus en direct à la télé par les tireurs d'élite de la police. Les vitres de la tour sont criblées d'impacts, ambiance …
Nous sommes arrivés à NAIA vers midi. Comme notre avion ne décolle qu'à 20h35, nous avions l'intention de laisser les bagages à la consigne, puis de passer l'après-midi dans un grand parc, le Nayon Pilipino, proche de l'aéroport. Simple, mais impossible car il n'y a pas de consigne à NAIA !
Nous ne pouvons même pas pénétrer dans l'aéroport car l'horaire de notre vol est trop tardif. Le garde nous conseille d'essayer au bureau de la Lufthansa, notre compagnie. Nous allons à une autre porte, le nouveau garde nous écoute et nous laisserait bien entrer si le bureau était ouvert, mais c'est la pause méridienne jusqu'à 14h. Pour patienter, il nous conseille d'aller au resto de l'aéroport.
Déjeuner hors de prix par rapport à ce que nous avons connu (1500P), mais par rapport aux prix français, c'est très abordable. Le problème, c'est que nous n'avons alors plus de pesos et qu'il reste à payer la taxe d'aéroport de 550P/personne. Et puis qu'allons nous faire ? Dehors il commence à pleuvoir et, si nous ne trouvons pas le moyen de faire garder nos bagages, nous allons sans doute rester là jusqu'à l'heure de l'embarquement.
NAIA est un aéroport ancien qui n'est pas fonctionnel. Un nouvel aéroport international est achevé, mais il y a un contentieux financier entre la maîtrise d'ouvrage philippine et la maîtrise d'œuvre allemande qui réclame environ 400 M$. Pas facile de faire du business ici pour des étrangers. De toutes les conversations que nous avons eues avec des expats, il ressort qu'il est très difficile de travailler avec des philippins, que cela soit en tant que partenaires ou en tant qu'employés. Les déceptions sont fréquentes et certains sont repartis complètement plumés. Le système économique est aux mains de 6 ou 7 grandes familles. La notion de famille est essentielle ici, et les familles sont très grandes, avoir 6 ou 8 enfants est fréquent.
Par exemple, Oliver nous a parlé d'une collaboratrice qu'il venait de recruter et qui a commencé par lui expliquer les liens familiaux qui l'unissaient aux gens qui comptent à Puerto.
Le tagalog est une langue difficile à apprendre, variable selon les îles, truffées de termes anglais quand ceux-ci sont plus courts que leurs équivalents tagalog. Quand on demande une explication sur un terme ou un usage, la réponse est souvent "ça dépend". Un suisse, à Puerto depuis 3 ans, nous a avoué ne se débrouiller en tagalog que depuis un an.
De plus, il existe de nombreux dialectes et les habitants sont souvent trilingues (dialecte, tagalog et anglais) et passent d'une langue à l'autre dans une conversation.
17h
Il ne nous reste plus qu'une heure et demi à attendre avant de pouvoir enregistrer les bagages. Heureusement, nous avons une table située dans un angle et on nous fiche une paix royale. Avons acheté un jeu de cartes pour occuper les garçons. Bavardé avec une femme qui travaille à l'immigration. Elle nous a appris que nous pouvions payer la taxe d'aéroport directement en $, donc nous n'avons plus besoin de changer d'argent.
Nous aurons donc passé plus de 6 heures dans ce resto. Les garçons se sont très bien comportés. Je repense à une attente de 5 heures dans une salle quasi-déserte de l'aéroport d'Hanoï, c'était nettement plus pénible.
Dans cette société philippine, l'omniprésence de la religion me dérange. La constitution permet à toutes les religions et même aux sectes de faire du prosélytisme.
La grande majorité de la population est catholique avec nombre de coteries plus ou moins tolérantes. Il y a aussi une forte présence des églises protestantes américaines dont certaines semblent très riches. Elles ponctionnent jusqu'à 20% des revenus de leurs fidèles.
A Puerto, j'ai croisé de jeunes mormons, clones de ceux qu'on voit souvent à Nantes pour leurs recherches à l'état civil.
Il n'y a pas d'école publique, toutes les écoles sont confessionnelles et, bien sûr, endoctrinent les enfants. Emilia, qui a mis Ligia dans une école protestante et Georgia dans une catholique (ou l'inverse), est atterrée du contenu de l'enseignement. Dieu est cité dans toutes les matières y compris en sciences. Quelle horreur !
Lors de nos conversations, nous avons été très intéressés par l'opinion d'Emilia et Oliver sur les sociétés américaines et françaises. En arrivant en France, ils ont eu l'impression de retrouver des gens ressemblant aux brésiliens, tellement les américains sont coincés. Ils trouvent que les USA ne sont pas démocratiques, et les rapports entre les gens sont soumis constamment au politiquement correct. Hypocrite et étouffant.
Ils ont de très bons souvenirs de France et ont apprécié de nombreux aspects de notre mode de vie. Dans ce qui ne leur a pas plu, Oliver signale nos chefs, très autoritaires et méprisants avec leur subordonnés. Leur opinion correspond bien à ce que nous ressentons.
Nous les apprécions vraiment beaucoup et allons essayer de rester en contact avec eux.
Dépenses à la louche : hors voyage Paris/Manille, 1500€ pour 3 semaines.
Bien que ce voyage soit le plus lointain que nous ayons fait, c'est le moins coûteux et certainement le plus dépaysant.
J'ai reçu une réaction de notre amie brésilienne.
Avec son autorisation, je la publie.--
J'ai lu ton journal. C'est super! D'abord tu ecris tres bien. C'est un plaisir lire ton texte. Je me suis bien amusee avec tout ce que tu a raconte. Tout est si vrai! Et nous, les bresiliens, nous sommes vraiment emus pour tout ce que tu racontes de nous! De notre cote la rencontre avec toi, AM et les enfants a ete tres speciale et importante. Vous aussi faites partie de notre vie a Palawan! Nous avons appris beaucoup des choses avec vous. Par exemple, a cause de Marc, nos filles ont commence a manger "japonais"! Tu sais, nous aussi sommes alles chercher la chute d'eau a Port Barton. Tout a ete exactement comme tu a raconte. La seule difference, heureusement, c'est que nous n'avons pas attrape aucune sangsue. Je confesse: en aucun moment nous n'avons pense a ca. Si je le savais, si j'etais consciente du danger... Ah, mon Dieu!
Il y a deux passages dans ton journal qui m'ont attire l'attention plus specialement.
1) Quand tu parle de l'incendie a Manila. Nous venons de temoigner la meme chose ici. Comme par hazard, toute une aire proche du port ou il y avait un enorme bidonville a brule. Par coincidence, c'est une aire ou, ca fait deja longtemps, la mairie a des plans de development... Il parait que cette est une pratique commune ici.
2) La tentative de empoisonnement du copain de Lucie. D'apres un ami belge qui habite a Puerto, c'est une pratique commune des femmes philippines. Pas necessairement par "empoisonnement". Les methodes peuvent changer. Il nous a raconte l'histoire d'un "cano" (mot qui vient du 'americano'. Ca veut dire, 'tous les etrangers') qui a ete trouve mort avec je ne sais pas combien de coups de couteau dans des endroits tres strategiques (pour assurer une morte sure) et qui a ete classe comme "suicide". La femme qui, disent, avait beaucoup d'interet a sa mort, est la, libre, bien vivante et amoureuse d'un autre 'cano'...
Je me sens plus tranquille. Si vous, connaisseurs de l'Asie du sud-est, avez trouve Palawan un endroit de vrai depaysement, donc ca veut dire que moi, j'ai le droit de me sentir comme je me sens!!! C'est drole, parce que sont arrives a l'ecole de Ligia et Georgia (maintenant les deux vont a la meme ecole, protestante chinoise) deux enfants venus directement de Taiwan. Une fille de 14/15 ans et un garcon d'environ 10 ans. Ils ne parlent pas ni l'anglais ni le tagalog. Seulement le chinois. Par coincidence eux aussi ont commence a pratiquer taekwondo. Ligia et Georgia (la sonorite de leurs noms a ete une sincere coincidence!! Nous n'avons note ca que quelques mois apres la naissance de Georgia!) se sont immediatement aprochees d'eux. Et ils, d'elles. Je me demande: est-ce parce que mes filles sont tres interessees par le mandarin ( et c'est vrai, elles le sont!) ou parce que ces enfants sont des vrais etrangers eux aussi? Ce que je pense est que peut-etre les palawenos sont si differents de nous que meme des enfants taiwanais deviennent plus proches! Tu comprends ce que je veut dire?
A propos, Ligia et Georgia passerons leur premier examen de Taekwondo demain. Si tout va bien, elles auront leurs ceintures jaunes!
Depuis juin je me suis mise a etudier le tagalog tres serieusement. Je lit deja! C'est une langue tres, tres compliquee. Les verbes sont le probleme. Il n'y a pas de conjugaison par "personne", seulement par "temps", mais leurs signification sont tres precises. Enfin, je me debrouille bien et suis capable d'aider les filles avec leurs devoirs. On va voir jusqu'ou je peux arriver!
Ah, encore une derniere chose. Ca a ete la premiere fois que je suis rentree dans un "forum" dans l'ordinateur. J'etais surprise par la quantite des choses! Merci pour cette ouverture!
A propos, je viens de savoir qu'il y a eu un autre cas d'empoisonnement a Puerto! Oui, une philippine qui a tue son mari avec de la poudre qu'on trouve dans la lampe de neon... Il parait que ce cas-la est bien recent! J'ai deja dit a Oliver qu'il ne faut pas la peine de risquer!!!
Je suis tres interessee au forum, mais j'ai un peu peur parce que je ne connais rien de ces choses-la. Je suis bien nulle en informatique, internet, etc... Peut-etre. On va voir. Mais merci beaucoup quand-meme de m'ouvrir cette porte.--
Mais qu'est-ce que j'apprends, dans cette longue et si sympathique réponse de ton amie brésilienne ???
"Comment se débarrasser d'un époux devenu trop encombrant ?"
Très instructif... Nos maris n'ont plus qu'à bien se tenir 😏 !
Un témoignage chaleureux et touchant du bout du monde... où amour et partage se donnent à coeur ouvert.
Fabricia -
Comme une eau, le monde vous traverse et pour un temps vous prête ses couleurs... ("L'Usage du Monde" - Nicolas Bouvier)
Le site du Ministère des Affaires Etrangères publie une carte presque toute rouge des Philippines (rouge = danger). Du coup, pour cet hiver, je me suis décidé de me rabattre sur le Laos, mais sans grande conviction... Mon coeur continue à balancer pour les Philippines... car j'ai l'impression que l'amateur d'îles paumées et paradisiaques que je suis serait comblé dans ce pays.
J'ai également vu que les forfaits aériens et ferries n'étaient pas spécialement donnés, mais les prix sont variables because concurrence. As tu une compagnie à recommander plus particulièrement?
Mon choix définitif pour cet hiver est loin d'être fixé, j'essaye de piocher ça et là des infos pour guider mon choix. merci 🙂
Je te réponds un peu plus tard en MP.
D'une manière générale, si tu suis à la lettre les recommandations du ministère des affaires étrangères, tu n'as pas beaucoup de choix, ce qui ne veut pas dire qu'on peut aller n'importe où.
Par exemple, j'ai reporté mon projet de vacances en Irak.
Merci de tes précisions. Je suis le 1er à considérer qu'il faut prendre du recul par rapport aux recommandations officielles du site, mais j'avoue que j'ai quand même des doutes sur les Philippines. Enfin, j'ai encore le temps de me décider 😉
Décembre 2003/Janvier 2004, petit voyage aux philippines de 3 semaines sans autre organisation qu'un vol A/R paris manille, la première nuit d'hotel et un lonely planet
1er partie Manille, les rizières de banaue/Batad (ile de Luzon) location de voiture
2eme partie Palawann (puerto princesa, el nido, la rivière souterraine st paul).
Les avis du ministères n'étaient pas fameux pour palawan (le sud surtout et l'ile de mindanao).
En fait, il n'y a pas eu de problème, ce fut un voyage inoubliable, des gens accueillants, une nature magnifique. (hormis Manille un peu rude, mais le soir du 31 décembre, l'explosion des feux d'artifices assez extraordinaire voir dangereuse)
Pour moi El nido est l'infrastructure parfaite (le minimum requis, des paillottes ou mini hotel tenus par des familles, deux centres de plongées, quelques restaurants, des épiceries, un centre de reservation d'avion et pour les sorties en mer dans l'archipel: en fait juste pour un nombre de touristes limités... ) Le tourisme n'a pas encore tué le village tant mieux (pour combien de temps encore).
Pour ma part, je suis marié depuis +10 ans avec un philipina et je ne suis pas encore intoxiqué (ou je ne le sais pas encore).
En fait niveau sécurité, les Philippines sont assez safe, il y a juste 2 ou 3 petites règles à respecter, comme dans tout pays pas très riche. Eviter de montrer des signes de richesses aussi petits soient-ils et surtout ne pas se prendre de gueule avec un philippin au risque de lui faire perdre la face devant des autres, à ce moment là, ta vie est sérieusement en danger. mais en dehors de ça, c'est un peuple très paisible, habitué à voir des étrangers (50 and d'occupation US ça marque et 5 siècles de spanishs).
P.S La meilleure époque pour les Philippines sont les mois de Avril et Mai, il fait très chaud, mais pas ou peu de pluie...
Je vous laisse, j'en reviens aujourd'hui de Manille et j'ai le jet-lag qui me rattrape.
Quelle surprise amusante que de recevoir ainsi des nouvelles de quelqu'un croisé au bout du monde il y a plusieurs années.
Oui, PG souffrait de la solitude sur son petit îlot, coiffeur à Manille doit lui convenir beaucoup mieux.
Merci
Bonjour,
Nouveau sur le forum mais comme je reviens de Palawan, je vais apporter ma pierre a l'edifice...
Itineraire calque sur celui du "Piaf" (merci au passage !) car voyageant avec enfants (7 et 4 ans) et souhaitant eviter les risques...
Nous sommes en 2007 mais rien a change ! Piste toujours aussi boueuse, electricite dispo entre 6 PM et 3 AM... Rien que de l'authentique et de la vie sauvage ! Au passge, je souhaiterais mentionner un spectacle a ne pas rater : A 12 Km au NE de Puerto Princesa (location de mobylette 500 PHP par jour ; soit 50 Francs), s'arreter au "Pier" de Honda Bay au crepuscule et assister a l'envol d'un millon de chauves-souris geantes (max 1 M). Chauves-souris fructivores ("Palawan Flying Foxes") qui quittent les mangroves de "Bat Island" pour rejoindre les montagnes de Palawan et s'y nourrir la nuit. Spectacle garanti chaque soir ! J'ai appris aussi que de pauvres philippins, pour survivre, mangent parfois ces animaux...
Palawan, 99% safe ; population accueillante et chaleureuse, "El Nido" : sublime !... C'est vrai que les trajets sont un peu animes mais ca fait parti du charme de ce voyage !
Pour finir, si vous passez par Puerto Princesa, je laisse les coordonnees d'un expat anglais qui habite pres de "white beach" et qui loue une chambre tout confort (1 grand lit, air conditionne, moustiquaire, salle de bain) pour 300 PHP/nuit (30 Francs) :
Garry Hadfield
Barangay Bagong Sikat
Circulation Road - Abueg Road (near white beach & Badjoa Seafront restaurant)
Tel home : 434 8878 / Port : 09197704969
Bonjour,
Nouveau sur le forum mais comme je reviens de Palawan, je vais apporter ma pierre a l'edifice...
Itineraire calque sur celui du "Piaf" (merci au passage !) car voyageant avec enfants (7 et 4 ans) et souhaitant eviter les risques...
Nous sommes en 2007 mais rien a change ! Piste toujours aussi boueuse, electricite dispo entre 6 PM et 3 AM... Rien que de l'authentique et de la vie sauvage ! Au passge, je souhaiterais mentionner un spectacle a ne pas rater : A 12 Km au NE de Puerto Princesa (location de mobylette 500 PHP par jour ; soit 50 Francs), s'arreter au "Pier" de Honda Bay au crepuscule et assister a l'envol d'un millon de chauves-souris geantes (max 1 M). Chauves-souris fructivores ("Palawan Flying Foxes") qui quittent les mangroves de "Bat Island" pour rejoindre les montagnes de Palawan et s'y nourrir la nuit. Spectacle garanti chaque soir ! J'ai appris aussi que de pauvres philippins, pour survivre, mangent parfois ces animaux...
Palawan, 99% safe ; population accueillante et chaleureuse, "El Nido" : sublime !... C'est vrai que les trajets sont un peu animes mais ca fait parti du charme de ce voyage !
Pour finir, si vous passez par Puerto Princesa, je laisse les coordonnees d'un expat anglais qui habite pres de "white beach" et qui loue une chambre tout confort (1 grand lit, air conditionne, moustiquaire, salle de bain) pour 300 PHP/nuit (30 Francs) :
Garry Hadfield
Barangay Bagong Sikat
Circulation Road - Abueg Road (near white beach & Badjoa Seafront restaurant)
Tel home : 434 8878 / Port : 09197704969
Merci du merci, toujours sympa d'avoir un retour même s'il n'y avait pas eu d'aller.
C'est étonnant d'apprendre après coup que quelqu'un a suivi ses traces.
Si c'était à refaire ... dans les mêmes circonstances, oui, mais ce ce ne sont pas les mêmes circonstances. En novembre 2003, il n'y avait quasiment pas de touriste à Palawan et nous étions seuls à Cacnipa. depuis, rien qu'à lire VF, il y en a beaucoup plus.
Dans le genre île déserte, Cacnipa nous a bien plu.
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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!
With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo.
But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip.
And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.
So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays:
- 3 nights in St Lucia
- 1 night in Hluhluwe
- 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini)
- 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini)
- 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti)
- 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve
- 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie
All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.
I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).
To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.
Hi everyone, 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.
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.
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…
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!..
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.
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.
"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...
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.
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!!!
"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.
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.
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.
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...
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.
This travel journal is our second on VoyageForum, following last year’s where we recounted our four weeks in Vietnam.
The goal remains the same: since some members on this site share tips, experiences, and great deals that help us prepare for our trips, we do the same after returning—both to give back a little and in the hope that our experiences might be useful to others in some way.
Our route was as follows: Bangkok, Siem Reap, Krabi, Suratthani, Koh Phangan, Koh Tao, Chumphon, Bang Saphan, Prachuab Khiri Khan, Sam Roi Yod, Hua Hin, Phetchaburi, Bangkok.
Beyond rediscovering Bangkok, our objectives were the long-held dream of seeing Angkor and exploring southern Thailand, much of which isn’t overly touristy.
A quick big thank-you to Barbot, who took the time to answer several of our questions.
12/07/2013
The cheapest flight we found earlier this year was a Paris-Bangkok route with a layover in Moscow for 1440 €, total for two people.
So, this time we tried Aeroflot. Airbus A318 for the first leg, A330 for the second. Nothing particularly annoying to report—the passengers were very calm, the cabin temperature was comfortable, and we had enough legroom.
That said, the quality of the meal trays was pretty mediocre, and the flight attendants weren’t exactly comedians.
We’d like to remind everyone that it’s best to exchange as little money as possible at the airport upon arrival, since the rate is about 5% worse than at city banks.
Of course, we made sure to take the airport exit where you can catch official taxis to avoid getting scammed. So, we queued up, a little lady gave us the ticket, and off we went with the driver.
Generally, this system works well because these drivers are registered, know their duties, and the risks they face if they break the rules. Except that day, right off the bat, we got the scammer of the day. His first move was to snatch the ticket from my wife’s hands—the one you’re supposed to keep in case of a complaint. My husband saw it, but after a full day of travel, we were a bit out of it, and honestly, there was no reason to be suspicious. But once we started driving, the guy refused to turn on the meter. We insisted more and more firmly, but nothing. So, I used the famous method of opening the door and starting to step out of the car. At 40 km/h, that scares the driver more than the passenger. He finally turned on the meter, but that didn’t calm him down—quite the opposite. For the next half-hour, he ruined the ride by demanding extra fees here and there. Having dealt with several scam attempts last year in Vietnam, this wasn’t exactly new, and we were proud of ourselves for staying pretty zen. Still, this guy was a little scary—he was completely wired and aggressive. Honestly, it was hard not to think he was on something. He’d be perfect for a *Scarface* remake. When we finally arrived at the hotel, he followed us to the entrance. We paid the two tolls (25 and 45 baht), gave him the usual 100 baht extra for the ride, and stayed polite but firm. So, meter: 245 baht + 100 baht + 25 and 45 baht for tolls—we paid the exact amount, no way we were tipping this guy. He left furious, but he was already like that before picking us up... Anyway, avoid Mr. Chartree Chidchen, number 089 826 7308, car E2663!
We were so relieved to finally settle in at Feung Nakorn Balcony hotel in the temple district. 42 € per night, great reception, all the staff is friendly. The AC works fine, the bed seemed hard at first but turned out to be comfortable. The hotel is quiet, away from the nightlife, but at this time of year, many places are less crowded than in high season. Even with a nice fish pond and outdoor breakfast area, it’s a decent hotel, though we felt we could’ve found something better.
After a night on the plane, the first afternoon is always a bit of a slog. We napped for a few hours, and when we woke up—guess what—we were starving. We visited a temple across from the hotel (nothing special) and then decided to take the Chao Phraya Express, the river shuttle that serves many piers along the river. It was a really enjoyable experience. The steel gangway wobbles when you board and disembark, the boat sits low in the water, and sometimes you get splashed. During peak times, you’re packed in like sardines, but most of all, there’s that exotic urban landscape passing by, especially the temple rooftops.
At that exact moment, the boat was packed. We didn’t see a ticket booth at the pier, and we tried in vain to pay the few baht for the ride. The cashier on the boat was too busy, and another employee we called didn’t have time to help us. Oh well, we weren’t going to force the issue. Still, this mode of transport is super practical for avoiding traffic, and at the piers, the lines with station names are clearly marked, with colors matching the flags on the boats. Combined with a map like the *Routard* guide, it’s easy to navigate.
We easily made it to the restaurant *Harmonique*, located near one of these piers. It’s a unanimous favorite on this forum, and let us tell you—it’s well-deserved. What a wonderful experience that evening! We only saw the outdoor gazebo because there was no way we were dining inside. It’s not flashy, so those looking for a luxurious setting should look elsewhere.
That night, the staff was a bit slow, and we had to track them down several times to move things along. But oh, my friends—what a feast on the plate! Start with the appetizer platter for two at 250 baht, featuring four specialties, each more tempting than the last, followed by their famous crab curry for 200 baht. There’s *so much* crab in there! The dish is so delicious and rich that when you finish, you feel—how to put it—like it was almost *too* good, to the point where you’re almost put off eating for days. And also, oh yes, we *will* be back. Their satay chicken is just as amazing, and it would be a crime not to mention their generous dessert with ice cream, warm banana, and chocolate, plus their *excellent* almond milkshake.
Later, we took a taxi to Kao San Road, mainly to book a Ko Tao-Chumphon trip for 600 baht per person at the Lomprayah counter. In hindsight, we should’ve booked all three of our trips there right away.
Kao San Road is *ultra*-touristy—better for younger crowds, but it’s still worth seeing. There’s rock ‘n’ roll, hippies, and crowds everywhere.
We walked back to the hotel, and when we got a little lost near a canal, a really nice older Thai man spontaneously appeared out of the night to kindly point us in the right direction.
Finally, a real long night of sleep ahead—we cranked up the AC. Sweet, the vacation has begun!
Hi there,
I just got back from a trip to Sri Lanka from December 18th to January 1st with 2 adults and 2 kids (12 years old).
If it helps, here’s my itinerary.
We left on December 18th from Madrid with Qatar Airways. No complaints. I booked my tickets back in March for 800 € per person. (I flew from Madrid because I live near the Spanish border and was too worried about strikes in France.)
We arrived on December 19th at 4 PM (local time). Before leaving France, I’d booked a taxi through MyTransfer for 59 € to Sigiriya. A van was waiting for us at the airport exit.
A never-ending 3-hour drive to Sigiriya. We stayed at Samana Guesthouse—very simple, clean, with a pool and an excellent Sri Lankan breakfast. Shower and straight to bed.
Friday, December 20th: Beautiful weather, but very humid and hot. We visited Lion Rock (36 € for adults) and then Pidurangala.
I loved both sites—they’re a must-do in my opinion.
Spent the late afternoon by the pool.
Saturday, December 21st: Another gorgeous day. The guesthouse manager offered us a free 2-hour tuk-tuk tour. We first visited a lake, rice fields, the temple, and the Sigiriya market, plus the usual tourist trap—the botanical garden (no pressure to buy anything at the end).
Then we took a tuk-tuk to Dambulla Temple, the Golden Buddha, and the wholesale market.
Sunday, December 22nd: Still beautiful weather. I’d booked a taxi for 8 AM. We did all the long trips by taxi to save time. I’d ask for prices from 2 or 3 WhatsApp taxi agencies 2 days or the day before—super responsive, always got replies within 5 minutes. We headed to Ella (4-hour drive) for 22,000 LKR.
Arrived in the afternoon at Rest Full Homestay—a small, family-run guesthouse. Clean, cozy, and an amazing Sri Lankan breakfast.
In the afternoon, we went to Nine Arches Bridge. It was a Sunday, a Sri Lankan holiday, so it was *packed*—mostly locals and very few white tourists! Even though it was crowded, it was cool because it was all Sri Lankans. We waited an hour for the train. It’s worth seeing, but honestly, I didn’t think it was that amazing.
Then we headed to the station to check if we needed to book tickets for the train to Haputale—turns out, no.
Monday, December 23rd: Beautiful weather. We hiked Ella Rock—a gorgeous trek. The final stretch is steep but shaded, so it wasn’t as tough as I’d read. The whole hike is stunning from start to finish. We saw the train pass twice (one blue, one red) and lots of women picking tea.
After that, we did Little Adam’s Peak. It’s not hard, but it was *packed* with tourists—meh. Luckily, at the top, you can walk a bit farther (down one side and back up) to get some space to yourself.
What I *didn’t* like was the commercial vibe at the big café/restaurant with a pool at the entrance of Little Adam’s Peak. Loud music, all that money being made right next to little souvenir stands run by Sri Lankans or tea-picking women. Felt off.
Ended the day buying souvenirs at one of the few shops we found during the trip.
Tuesday, December 24th: Beautiful weather. Took the train to Haputale. We got to the station 30 minutes before the 9:30 AM train. We could’ve taken 2nd or 3rd class—I went with 2nd (160 LKR per person).
It was crowded, but we managed to get seats—first 2, then 3. Only a 1-hour ride, but I *loved* it—windows and doors open the whole time.
Arrived in Haputale around 11 AM, and the mist was already rolling in.
We walked to our guesthouse, The Mist Holiday Bungalow. Simple but clean, with a great view of the tea plantations. The owner’s wife is Vietnamese and used to work for French tour operators, so her French is still pretty good—helpful for us since our English is terrible. They booked us a tuk-tuk for 4:45 AM the next day (2,000 LKR) to Lipton’s Seat.
Spent the afternoon wandering around Haputale. Not much charm, but there’s a nice fruit and veggie market and a short walk through the tea plantations.
Wednesday, December 25th: Beautiful weather. The tuk-tuk was on time to take us to Lipton’s Seat. We were the first ones there—the sky was just starting to turn pink. In the end, only about ten of us watched the sunrise. The guesthouse had packed us breakfast, and we walked back down (half on the road, half through the plantations). Didn’t see any tea picking since it was Christmas, but the walk was still incredible. We took detours through villages full of kids.
After that, we visited the tea factory. The tour was really interesting, and we took the bus back down to Haputale. Such a great moment—whole families were heading to mass, dressed up and made up. All so beautiful.
At noon, we left for Udawalawe National Park. Taxi for 14,000 LKR. Stayed at River Inn Safari Cottage. *Warning*: It’s the same place as Eagle Safari Cottage. I don’t recommend it. We’d always stayed with families before, but here it was just staff—totally different vibe. The pool was nice but not very clean (water was murky). The bungalow was big and fine, but it was brand new—so new the asphalt floor wasn’t fully dry. It’s in the middle of nowhere, so we had to eat on-site. Couldn’t leave a review on Booking because they never confirmed we’d stayed, and they canceled our reservation the next day.
Thursday, December 26th: Beautiful weather. I’d booked a safari through the hotel for 5:30–10 AM for 54 USD. Honestly, yes, there are a lot of jeeps, but it was great. The kids loved it—we saw everything there was to see.
Left by taxi at 11:30 AM for Welligama (12,000 LKR).
We didn’t stay in Welligama city but at Coconut Beach, between Welligama and Midigama. *Total crush* on the guesthouse: Sky Mountain Café with View. Such a lovely family. The mom makes amazing meals at reasonable prices. The view from the hill over the sea is unreal.
Spent the afternoon walking along the beach.
Friday, December 27th: Beautiful weather. My kids are surfers. Unfortunately, there weren’t any boards their size to rent at Coconut, so we took a tuk-tuk to Welligama Bay (1,000 LKR). They surfed from 8 AM to 5 PM—rental was 5,000 LKR for the day. Meanwhile, we walked the beach and swam. Water was 29°C.
Saturday, December 28th: Beautiful weather, rain from 4 PM until midnight. Same surf day. They were so well-behaved the whole trip, so this was their reward.
Sunday, December 29th: Beautiful weather. Beach day at Coconut. *Warning*: It’s a reef break. For surfers, there are three spots (Coconut Left, Middle, and Right). The boys bodysurfed (with fins) all morning, and at 1 PM, we took the bus to Hikkaduwa.
Stayed at Hotel Universal Beach. Nothing special—right on the water, but the rooms were dark even though they were clean. The manager was super nice, but the rest was meh, and breakfast was mediocre compared to what we’d had before (2 eggs and 3 slices of toast). Plus, it was late—8 AM.
First impression of Hikkaduwa wasn’t great—way too many Russians for our taste.
Monday, December 30th: Beautiful weather. Spent the whole day exploring. Turtle Beach, then the other side of the beach (toward Galle) near the fishing port. The beach there is much wider, with scattered hotels and super quiet. It’s beautiful—I should’ve booked somewhere in that area. Ended up having a great day away from the crowds.
Tuesday, December 31st: Overcast, then beautiful, rain at 4 PM. Had to end the year (and the trip) with some surf. Rented boards for the kids (3,000 LKR per board for the day). Bad luck—the waves were on a reef break but small. Not great for them, but no big deal. They still got out of the water by 2 PM. Walked the beach (which is gorgeous), had a juice, and went for a swim. Then back to surfing in the rain at 4 PM.
Wednesday, January 1st: Left by taxi at 5 AM (18,000 LKR). Flight at 10 AM. Arrived in Madrid at 8 PM.
I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).
So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!
We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice.
For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.
We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.
Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).
Day 1 – Paris to Lima
Foreword
I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.
Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).
Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.
As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.
Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.
Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
We did the Langtang trek (hike) from September 10th to 17th, with the first and last days being the trip from Kathmandu and back—so 6 days of actual walking. It’s a fairly well-known trek but certainly not as famous or crowded as those in the Annapurna or Everest regions, which is why we chose it.
In theory, it’s mandatory to have a guide for this trek. In reality, it seems there are ways to bypass the regulations: we met at least two people hiking without a guide—a South Korean, a New Zealander, and possibly also a couple of English women and an American couple, though we’re not sure if they had a guide.
The agency we booked with had told us it was an affordable trek for relatively older people in good shape—which is our case (I’m 72 myself). I have to say upfront that we found it quite challenging, maybe because we didn’t have good weather—it was the end of the monsoon season. To be clear, no matter your fitness level, I’d say doing this trek in the middle of the monsoon season would be suicidal.
Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi
On Monday, September 8th, there had been violent protests in Kathmandu against the government, which had, among other things, blocked access to social media and been accused of nepotism and corruption. There were 19 deaths. The situation was very tense on the day of our departure, Wednesday the 10th. The agency warned us that public transport was very unreliable. So, we decided to take a jeep, at an additional cost of $100 ($160 minus what was already budgeted for the bus).
We left a little before 7 a.m. and it took us a good hour just to reach the outskirts of Kathmandu. Along the way, we saw several houses and vehicles set on fire by protesters.
The road to Syapru Besi is only 120 km, but it’s frankly awful. It’s always narrow, winds through endless mountains, and the shoulders range from bad to confusing to nonexistent. Several sections are just dirt tracks. We didn’t regret opting for the jeep, as we could stop several times at our convenience—if only to let Y (my Thai partner) throw up everything she had. She’d taken her usual motion sickness medication, but the constant turns, accelerations, and braking eventually made her terribly carsick.
In Nuwakot, we stopped for breakfast at a nice little restaurant, Jimbu. It was around 8:30 a.m., and we’d barely covered 60 km. The restaurant has a lovely garden overlooking the Trishuli Ganga, the river flowing down from Syapru Besi. First photo: the river in the bottom right corner, mist and clouds over the mountain on the other side.
An hour later, my second photo: the hills along the Trishuli Ganga. You can see the different crops—lush green rice paddies in the lower right and corn, already yellowed and likely harvested, in the foreground on the left. And of course, the mist and clouds through which you can glimpse the mountain on the other side of the river.
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Our first stop was just a few kilometers from Marrakech, at a lovely house perfect for relaxing and recharging before continuing. It’s called Bleu House, a little paradise on the outskirts of Marrakech. The welcome was very warm, with a beautiful pool and a lovely garden.
Next, we headed toward the Tichka Pass. The road has really improved in recent years—it’s much easier to drive now. No more getting stuck behind trucks, and today, the construction is practically finished.
Morocco has turned green after the recent rains. It’s a joy for the herds and shepherds.
I hesitated about writing this travel journal...
This summer, we only did the classics (the 3 northern parks and Zanzibar) and let a local agency take care of everything from start to finish.
No craziness, no risks, no sleeping under the stars, no self-drive, no venturing off the beaten path, no incidents, and not even any delays in the pre-planned itinerary...
But don’t think we were disappointed!
The whole family (there were 6 of us) came back with smiles and memories of great moments spent together.
So, if you're looking for a "classic" way to discover Tanzania, this is the place to be.
Our 2-week itinerary:
- Arusha (1 night upon arrival)
- Tarangire (1 night)
- Ngorongoro (2 nights in Karatu then Irmisigiyo)
- Serengeti (3 nights in Robanda, Togoro Plains, and Seronera)
- Zanzibar Stone Town (1 night)
- Zanzibar Matemwe (3 nights)
- Zanzibar Jambiani (3 nights)
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions...
So, now that I've just finished my Japan travel journal here, I figured it was high time to honor this destination we came back from so enchanted.
Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some!
Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!
I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to include fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to take her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can slip away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!
Anyway, since I love maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red); we only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband’s newly retired, I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.
In broad strokes, it was very classic:
First, we “settled in” at Luang Prabang (8 days), because we wanted and needed to.
From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we know, distances aren’t just about km!
Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4,000 Islands while stopping by the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites.
We wrapped up with the Bolaven Plateau.
A few practical notes: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having picked up our luggage in Bangkok to check it in for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized.
We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. Quick, but to be fair, we were on a “small” plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too crowded in line!
At the end of our trip, we didn’t fly out of Paksé but from the nearby airport in Thailand, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), then Bangkok and Paris.
You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the (Chinese) train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!
With that intro out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter.
To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang
It’s an ancient city that breathes, a living spring.
Here, no kitschy signs like “I miss you in Fengyu,” nor mass-produced fake antiques.
The century-old houses still bear the marks of wind and rain; in the morning, you hear roosters crowing, and at dusk, smoke gently rises from the kitchens.
This city doesn’t try to please anyone—like the spring water flowing through it, it simply keeps living at its own pace.
Located in Eryuan County, in the Dali Prefecture of Yunnan, the ancient town of Fengyu is a nationally designated historical and cultural city. It’s nicknamed the “land of scholars and ink”—during the Qing Dynasty, the Fengxiang Academy produced four *jinshi* and eleven *juren* in the imperial examinations. The Bai families made studying and farming a true legacy. Even on market days, you’ll find stalls of calligraphy and paintings, while lintels and screen walls are covered with family mottos.
Fengyu was also an important stop on the ancient Tea Horse Road. It preserves the second-largest Bai architectural complex in China, just after Xizhou. The famous traveler Xu Xiake spent seven days here and compared it to the “peach blossom paradise.”
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:
2- Around San Pedro
Vila beach
Sunset behind Santiago
The rocks and sea at Ponta Preta
At the summit of Monte Batalha
Calheta
Calheta de Baixo
The beaches just keep coming...
The dunes
The 3 coconut trees, a landmark to find the track
Boca da Ribeira beach
The hills on our right
Ribeira Dom João
Barreiro
The old track
The church in Vila do Maio
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.
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.
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!
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.
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...
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.
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
