Un an après notre voyage en kayak gonflable à Disko au milieu des icebergs et des baleines nous sommes décidés pour retourner au Groenland. Dans ce pays grand comme quasiment 4 fois la France le choix de la « région » est un peu laborieux tant les possibilités sont nombreuses. Le fjord d’Uummannaq où je me suis rendu en hiver il y a 6 mois nous semble être formidable. Il y a un loueur (ce qui nous permettrait d’avoir un kayak rigide), des baleines, d’immenses montagnes et des icebergs en quantité. En revanche la zone est toujours sous le risque « imminent » d’un tsunami (pour une grande partie du nord du fjord). Nous craignons également l’immensité du fjord et son exposition au vent et à la houle avec en plus, selon le parcours de nombreuses traversées entre les îles dépassant les 10 km et nous ne sommes pas des kayakistes confirmés. Pour finir les températures à nos dates de congés (fin août et début septembre) risquent d’être déjà bien froides (-5/5°C) pour la pratique agréable d’un sport nautique.
Tout ceci considéré, nous continuons à imaginer des parcours avec Google Earth dans tout le pays mais les montagnes aux environs de Nanortalik sur la pointe sud du pays nous paraissent également vite idéales. Cette zone, bien desservie depuis Copenhague (vols directs !), possède de grands réseaux de fjords bien encaissés et donc protégés des caprices de la haute mer. Différents transferts en bateau proposés par la Disko Line permettent d’envisager des traversées plus ou moins longues entre les différents villages. Nous « dessinons » donc un parcours entre le village de Nanortalik et l’aéroport d’arrivée à Narsarsuaq.
Le fjord de Tasermiut apparait être le joyau du coin et ne pas s’y rendre serait bien dommage. Mais en aller-retour, visiter ce fjord nous ferait faire un détour de 140 km ! Le seul moyen d’y pagayer en restant dans les temps (15 jours de kayak) est de le parcourir en aller simple et donc de s’en échapper par la terre une fois au fond. La carte au 1/100 000e montre une vallée large et plate reliant le fond du fjord de Tasermiut à celui du Sondre Sermilik par un portage d’une petite vingtaine de kilomètres.
La traversée dans le sens Nanortalik>Narsarsuaq via le fjord de Tasermiut fait ainsi 240 km soit une bonne quinzaine de kilomètres obligatoires à effectuer pour les 15 jours de voyage. D’expérience cette distance est le compromis parfait entre les jours de rando, les jours d’avancée et la marge de sécurité. 3 portages jalonnent l’itinéraire pour un total de 30 km à effectuer à pied environ. Notre trajet passe par le village d’Ammasivik au kilomètre 160 où nous pourrons nous ravitailler. Nous ne sommes donc pas obligés d’emporter 15 jours de nourriture ce qui limite largement le poids et le volume des vivres à embarquer.
Le sud du Groenland présente également l’avantage d’avoir des températures clémentes même en septembre, pas d’ours polaire (surtout à la fin de l’été), des côtes très vertes qui contrastent avec la mer où les glaciers et de gros icebergs qui remontent depuis la côte Est le cap Farewell parfois jusqu’à Qaqortoq.
Le vol est donc réservé en mai pour la dernière semaine d’août et la première de septembre. Manque de chance, l’aller retour direct depuis Copenhague est hors de prix à nos dates mais en choisissant à l’aller un Copenhague- Narsarsuaq avec Air Greenland et un retour Narsarsuaq-Reykjavik avec Air Iceland le tarif devient plus raisonnable. C’est l’option que nous choisissons même si passer par Reykjavik complique un peu le voyage de retour sur Paris…. Depuis Narsarsuaq nous gagnerons Nanortalik en 6h de bateau. Ce trajet est réservé auprès de la Disko Line, 3 mois à l’avance, nous prenons les dernières places disponibles malgré des trajets presque quotidiens. Seulement 50 minutes séparent notre arrivée en avion et le départ du bateau mais normalement ce dernier attend les passagers… Nous prenons donc ce risque pour gagner du temps sur place. A Narsarsuaq, la présence de l’agence BlueIce tenue par un Français nous permettrait la location d’un kayak rigide mais avec 30 km de portage ce n’est pas envisageable c’est donc avec notre kayak gonflable biplace Gumotex Swing 2 que nous partons. C’est un kayak que je connais bien et avec lequel j’ai déjà effectué 2 voyages de plusieurs jours dans le grand Nord. Son seul véritable inconvénient est sa vitesse de croisière assez lente du fait de sa largeur importante et de son fond plat. Il est en revanche assez léger (14 kilos à vide) très très stable et comme tous les gonflables, facile à remettre à flot après un dessalage. C’est un kayak très robuste qui n’a d’ailleurs pas pris une ride en dépit de nombreux jours d’utilisation dans des conditions parfois rudes (gel, glace, transport en avion…)
Pour un poids total de 20 kilos avec tous ses équipements : pagaies, pompe, jupes et gilets compris il remplit pile un sac de 150 l. Les autres 20 kilos que nous autorise la franchise bagage sont occupés par le matériel de camping (tente 3 saisons et duvet 0°C confort) et 8 kilos de nourriture (4 kilos de muesli maison, 3 kilos de semoule complète et 1 kilo de comté). Même si tout peut se procurer sur place, cette nourriture pratique en camping et goûteuse constitue tout de même un petit plus ! En vue du portage, tout est empaqueté dans un gros sac à dos de randonnée de100 litres qui pèse à lui seul 3 kilos à vide tout de même. Nous partons avec un réchaud multi combustible gaz/essence MSR ainsi qu’un second réchaud Trangia à alcool à brûler au cas où.
Cette année, nous avons également investi dans des combinaisons étanches pour le confort et la sécurité. Du fait de leur volume et de leur poids nous n’osons pas les prendre comme « accessoire » de cabine, elles occupent donc la moitié de notre bagage à main. L’autre moitié est occupée par nos vêtements
Nous partons à deux (nous sommes frères) et je connais un peu la région pour avoir déjà effectué un tour en kayak en 2015 du côté de Narsaq.
Mardi 20 août
Réveil avec une petite boule au ventre après le boulot c’est le départ et un couac à une seule étape et tout le voyage tombe à l’eau. Mais la première partie s’effectue sans anicroches: Chorges (05)-parking de l’hôtel Ibis de Villeurbanne où nous laissons la voiture premier « portage » à pied de 3 km entre le parking et la gare de Lyon Part Dieu Lyon-Roissy en TGV Roissy-Copenhague en avion avec Air France et nous sommes à l’hôtel à Copenhague.
Mercredi 21 août
A 12h nous décollons pour Narsarsuaq que nous atteignons à 13h après 5h d’avion. Ce vol direct est un plaisir par rapport à toutes les escales nécessaires pour se rendre à d’autres destinations du Groenland. Même pas fatigués par ce court voyage, nous embarquons à l’heure dans le bateau de la Disko Line. Et à 19h avec 45 minutes d’avance nous voilà au bout du pays, sur la pointe sud, à Nanortalik.
Il fait beau, doux et nous repérons à quelques encablures du port une collinette cachée pour installer la tente.
Le gros supermarché ferme à 18h mais un autre plus petit est toujours ouvert. Il ne nous manque pas grand-chose pour compléter nos vivres. Nous achetons des sauces, du salami, du beurre, des tortillas, des biscuits et un litre d’alcool à brûler. Nous prenons en tout 10 jours de vivres ce qui nous laisse un peu de marge pour atteindre Ammasivik situé à 160 km d’ici. Nous sommes donc presque prêts à partir mais nous n’avons pas trouvé de cartouche de gaz. La station essence nous permettrait de partir avec ce carburant mais nous voulons quand même tenter notre chance avec le gaz dans le gros magasin. C’est quand même plus pratique que l’essence à utiliser.
Jeudi 22 août
A 7h, dès l’ouverture nous sommes au magasin et bonne pioche nous trouvons du gaz. Retour au port où nous gonflons le kayak.
Il a bien survécu au transport et à 9h nous pagayons en direction du fjord de Tasermiut sous un temps correct malgré un bon plafond nuageux. Comme constaté en bateau la veille, il n’y a pas un seul iceberg en vue. L’embouchure du fjord est pourtant une zone où beaucoup viennent se bloquer. C’est aussi un endroit où passent parfois des baleines de Minke et nous sommes aux aguets. Mais tandis que nous gagnons l’entrée du fjord aucun signe de vie animale n’est observé. Le fjord est très large et nous remontons sa rive Ouest puis, nous le traversons pour tenter de se protéger du petit vent arrière qui commence à se lever. A l’abri d’un cap, la pause midi est agréable, nous mangeons notre « ration » : deux tortillas avec du salami et du beurre puis une tasse de muesli.
Juste avant le village de Tasiusaq nous repérons un talus bien plat qui parait idéal pour le bivouac. Nous montons le camp vers 16h en face de nos premiers icebergs. La marée est basse et le coin est rempli de grosses moules. Nous en ramassons une pleine casserole.
Le démarrage du réchaud est inquiétant, le gaz produit une minuscule flamme bleue avec laquelle nous mettons 1h15 pour faire bouillir 3 litres d’eau ! Nous essayons divers réglages et nettoyage mais rien n’y fait le réchaud ne tire pas. Nous nous servirons de l’alcool pour tout le reste du séjour…
Vendredi 23 août
Nuit claire et beau temps à 6h au réveil. Nous reprenons notre route, les montagnes commencent à être spectaculaires notamment sur la rive Est où de grandes aiguilles de granit montent vers le ciel. A l’embouchure de la rivière Kuussuaq nous hésitons à nous arrêter : c’est ici qu’il faudrait franchir un isthme de 1 km pour rejoindre un grand lac dont l’extrémité Est est bordée de la forêt Qinngua. Cette forêt naturelle si particulière mérite apparemment une visite mais cela nous ferait faire un détour de 40 km. Les arbres n’étant pas la spécificité du pays nous décidons de tracer notre route.
Vers 13h nous atteignons la vallée de Qooromiut bordée d’une immense tour rocheuse : Ulamertorsuaq. C’est un bel endroit pour planter la tente et s’offrir une demi-journée de randonnée le long de la rivière qui coule dans la vallée.
La végétation est sublime, la toundra commence à se colorer de rouge et l’eau de la rivière est d’un bleu étincelant. Le ciel est noir et très menaçant mais il ne pleut pas, nous remontons la rive gauche de la rivière jusqu’à ce que l’heure nous rappelle. Nous constatons qu’au milieu des saules et des éboulis la progression n’est pas rapide ce qui nous laisse dubitatifs pour les 20 km du portage dans quelques jours.
23h30 quelque chose gratte vers les sacs stockés à l’extérieur de la tente. Je sors et partout où le faisceau de ma lampe éclaire, une paire d’yeux me fixe. Je compte 4 renards que j’effraie comme je peux jusqu’à leur terrier situé seulement à une centaine de mètres de la tente. 1h nouvelle visite du camp je sors à nouveau et la seule chose que je peux faire est d’obstruer pour la nuit l’entrée du terrier avec une pierre. 2h30 décidément la nuit va être longue, le terrier doit avoir plusieurs entrées puisque la pierre est toujours en place mais les renards toujours autour de la tente ! A coup de rame nous les repoussons à nouveau. Ils nous laisseront tranquilles.
Samedi 24 août
La nuit n’a pas été reposante du tout. II y a un bon brouillard mais nous devinons que le ciel bleu n’est pas loin. Nous retirons la pierre du terrier et constatons effectivement un autre trou quelques mètres plus loin…Nous reprenons la mer et après 2 km nous sommes en vue de la célèbre montagne en forme de M : Nalumarsortoq.
Elle émerge du brouillard dans une forêt de pics tous plus beaux les uns que les autres. Nous regrettons de ne pas nous être arrêtés dans cette vallée hier. D’ailleurs de nombreuses tentes sont visibles, l’endroit est réputé. La météo n’incite pas à la randonnée et nous poursuivons en kayak vers le fond du fjord. Vers midi le temps se lève alors que nous atteignons la vallée de Klosterdalen. Au pied de l’immense face Ouest de la montagne Ketil nous montons la tente dans un endroit paradisiaque.
Il est encore tôt et nous partons à pied dans la vallée. Nous sommes vite entourés de hauts bouleaux qui nous dépassent largement. Visiblement il n’y a pas que dans la forêt de Qinngua qu’on peut voir de vrais arbres au Groenland. Battus par les vents leurs troncs sont très tortueux. De retour du camp, la marée est basse et nous ramassons des moules pour agrémenter notre semoule. La cuisine est faite au feu de bois sous le soleil couchant qui illumine les sommets de la rive opposés.
Dimanche 25 août
Grand ciel bleu à 6h.
Au matin, le sommet de la montagne Ketil nous apparait pour la première fois et il est blanchi par la neige. Sa face de plus de 1400 m est vraiment impressionnante, dans presque toute sa diagonale, elle est balafrée par une grosse fissure type « âge de glace ».
Le chargement du kayak est maintenant une routine. Sur le pont avant, le gros sac de rangement du kayak de 150 l qui contient le gros sac de randonnée de 100 l qui contient lui-même trois sacs étanches de 30 l : deux de nourritures et un d’outillage divers (popote, réchauds, outils, pharmacie…) Sur le pont arrière deux sacs étanches de 60 l contiennent les vêtements, les baskets, la tente et le gaz. Tout est attaché avec des sangles réglables fixées au kayak via la ligne de vie. C’est beaucoup plus pratique qu’avec les tendeurs que nous utilisions les années précédentes.
A l’intérieur 2 autres petits bidons contiennent également de la nourriture, un troisième est rempli par les deux duvets. Les bidons sont un peu plus durs à caler et à remplir que les sacs qui sont plus souples. Mais ils ont l’avantage d’être hermétique à tout : eau et renards notamment et au fond du kayak il y a toujours un peu d’eau provenant de nos Crocs™ lors des embarquements.
Le fond du fjord n’est plus très loin et l’immense muraille glaciaire qui le ferme commence à être bien nette.
Pour la première fois du séjour nous naviguons sur une mer d’huile.
Nous sommes décidés à attaquer le portage dès aujourd’hui pour anticiper la difficulté que celui-ci pourrait représenter. Mais c’est quand même avec regrets que nous regardons les nombreuses pentes douces des montagnes de la rive Ouest qui doivent offrir des panoramas spectaculaires sur les versants à pics de la rive Est. Heureusement l’arrivée au fond du fjord nous console.
La muraille glaciaire est sublime, c’est un véritable mur de glace de 1000 m de haut et de 2 km de large qui descend presque jusqu’à la mer.
Le glacier Sermitsiaq est également grandiose avec toutes ses aiguilles qui jalonnent sa descente dans un lac.
Il est 10h lorsque nous touchons la plage de la vallée Tillersuaq que nous allons devoir remonter à pied.
Nous déchargeons toutes les affaires, plions le kayak et répartissons le tout dans les sacs à dos. Heureusement qu’il ne pleut pas ! 1h de rangement plus tard il faut se résigner tout ne tiendra pas dans les sacs à dos. Ce n’est pas la place qui manque mais le poids, les deux sacs à dos sont donnés pour 20 kg et nous les dépassons largement. Une rupture des bretelles serait bien compliquée à gérer. Nous devrons en plus des énormes sacs sur le dos porter les dernières bricoles à la main. Les sacs sont durs à soulever, leurs poids doit avoisiner les 30 kilos.
Nous nous engageons dans la vallée, pour notre plus grand bonheur la végétation est très basse rendant la marche facile.
Le rythme s’installe : 15 à 20 minutes de marche avant que les épaules ne réclament une pause de 3 à 5 minutes. La vallée est très accueillante large, plate, très verte, avec sur les côtés des montagnes et des glaciers magnifiques.
Notre progression est plus rapide que nos estimations, sûrement aux alentours de 2.5 km/h et en début de soirée nous avons parcouru 12 km. Le coin est magnifique, une belle ambiance sauvage s’est installée. Nous sommes au col et nous distinguons à la fois les montagnes du Tasermiut et celles du Sondre Sermilik, c’est très beau.
Lundi 26 août
7 km nous séparent du fjord de Sondre Sermilik, nos sacs semblent plus lourds que la veille. Nous descendons le long de la rivière alternant les passages dans des saules un peu trop hauts, des tourbières peu commodes ou des gravières de la rivière.
Sur ces petits galets la marche se déroule bien. A chaque pas nous pensons tomber nez à nez avec des bœufs musqués. Quelques bêtes ont été introduites il y a 5 ans dans la vallée et nous rencontrons de nombreuses crottes et traces mais ils restent invisibles.
L’arrivée sur le fjord est un grand moment. Le ciel ne pourrait pas être plus bleu lorsque nous débouchons sur une butte parfaitement plate qui surplombe le fjord d’une dizaine de mètres.
Un bivouac parfait. Il nous a fallu deux demi-journées pour effectuer le portage. Le dos bien fatigué nous partons pour le reste de l’après midi en randonnée sur le cap de la vallée Isortoq qui culmine à 500 m d’altitude.
La vue sur notre parcours à pied et les vallées environnantes est superbe.
Le repas du soir pris au coin du feu sur l’immense plage déserte de l’estuaire de la rivière est également un moment marquant du séjour.
Mardi 27 août
Nous remettons le kayak à l’eau et partons en direction de l’embouchure du fjord.
Il y a un petit vent de face qui nous ralentit bien. A 13h nous pique-niquons sur le cap Est du fjord. Nous devons traverser, mais les 5 km qui nous séparent de la rive opposée sont infranchissables par cette météo. Le vent de face est maintenant bien fort et la mer est couverte d’écume. Nous stoppons l’étape sur ce cap qui offre de beaux points de vue sur les iles des environs
Mercredi 28 août
Toujours très nuageux mais le vent est tombé. La mer est calme. Nous traversons le fjord. Curieusement les kilomètres défilent plus vite que les autres jours. Peut être y a-t-il un courant invisible. Nous traversons rapidement les petites îles pour gagner le fjord Unartoq. Notre objectif est les sources chaudes sur l’île d’Unartoq. L’embouchure du fjord est soumise à la houle océanique et de belles vagues soulèvent le kayak avant de se briser sur les rochers. Elles créent une belle ambiance, pagayer des kilomètres de côtes aussi tourmentées ne doit pas être le même sport que dans les fjords encaissés. Heureusement, les vagues s’estompent rapidement à mesure que nous nous enfonçons dans le fjord. Après une traversée de 3 km nous touchons l’île en fin d’après midi bien fatigués par ces 30 km. La récompense est là: un ruisseau d’eau chaude qui sort des lichens et qui remplit une grande bassine rien que pour nous.
C’est d’autant plus plaisant que le vent est bien fort et le ciel très menaçant. Dans cette atmosphère humide et froide et après une semaine sans douche, entrer dans l’eau chaude est un vrai plaisir. Il manque quand même quelques degrés à l’eau pour ne pas être parcourus de petits frissons après une demi-heure d’immersion. Mais le fond brûlant est lui fort agréable.
Jeudi 29 août
Grand ciel bleu, sur l’eau à 7h nous ramons vers le fjord de Lichteneau. Sans vent il nous faut 4h30 pour parcourir les 11 km qui nous séparent du cap c’est presque 2 fois moins vite que la veille. Cela ne fait même pas du 2.5 km/h ! Il doit y avoir un courant contraire cette fois-ci bien que ce dernier ne soit pas franchement visible. Toutes les îles et l’embouchure du fjord sont censées être une zone d’accumulation des icebergs en provenance de la côte Est. Certaines années, ils vont même jusqu’à bloquer l’accès au fjord mais nous ne voyons que de la mer bleue à l’horizon. Il n’y a pas UN iceberg. C'est un peu décevant, les icebergs c’est quand même LE pourquoi d’un voyage au Groenland en kayak !
Nous pénétrons dans le fjord que nous remontons jusqu’au village d’Ammasivik que nous atteignons à 15h sous un vent arrière très fort et une mer trop agitée. Nous filons au Pilersuisoq dont nous ignorons les horaires. Il fermait à 14h et il n’ouvrira demain qu’à10h. Il faut attendre nous n’avons pas le choix. Il fallait un petit couac horaire dans le voyage. Nous plantons la tente à l’extérieur de ce village qui mérite le détour : perdu au milieu du fjord une cinquantaine de personnes y réside. La vie doit y être quand même particulière…
Vendredi 30 août
9h50 nous sommes devant la porte du magasin avec …une dizaine d’autres locaux. Tout le monde attend l’ouverture. Nous achetons les vivres pour la dernière semaine de voyage et nous reprenons rapidement la mer car lorsqu’il fait beau, le réchauffement des fjords par le soleil crée un appel d’air avec l’air de la haute mer. Il en résulte, aux alentours de midi, un vent parfois un peu fort qui s’engouffre dans les fjords. Aujourd’hui il se lève vers 11h30 juste après la traversée de 5 km que nous avons donc effectuée « in extremis ». Le fjord est maintenant bien blanc d’écume. Nous atteignons les fermes Qagdlumiut, lieu de notre prochain portage : par un réseau de lacs reliés par des portions en terre de 500 m à 2 km nous devons rejoindre le fjord d’Igaliku 20 km plus loin. Pour ce portage, nous ne dégonflons pas le kayak puisqu’il nous servira fréquemment à traverser les petits lacs qui le ponctuent. Nous sommes par contre très chargés (nous venons de faire les courses) et tout transporter en un seul trajet est impossible. Nous portons donc d’abord les affaires puis revenons chercher le kayak. Nous commençons par 1,5 km à pied puis 2 km de kayak puis 2 km à pied. Nous essayons d’être efficaces dans les changements. Faire les aller-retour pénalise fortement la vitesse de progression globale: en 4h30 nous avons parcourus 5km….
Nous montons le camp sous le soleil sur les rives d’un grand lac que nous nous gardons pour demain. Au milieu des montagnes et sous un ciel sans aucun nuage la soirée est agréable.
Porter ainsi les affaires est quand même bien physique, entre les gros sacs, le kayak à bout de bras, les aller-retour à pied et les kilomètres qui ne défilent pas, la fatigue est généralisée à tous les membres du corps !
Samedi 31 août
Réveil à 6h pour une journée complète de kayak et de portage. Tous les sommets sont dans la brume mais nous savons grâce à la météo captée à Ammasivik que la journée sera belle. Nous commençons par le grand lac dont nous atteignons rapidement le bout. Ici commence une enfilade de 5 petits lacs reliés par un ruisseau avant de finir dans l’immense lac de Qanisartut (long de plusieurs dizaines de kilomètres). Pour gagner du temps nous pagayons sans les combinaisons et en basket, il n’y a parfois même pas 500 m à ramer avant de reprendre la marche pour quelques centaines de mètres. A pied le terrain n’est pas évident, il y a des saules assez hauts qui masquent les trous des tourbières ou bien des éboulis glissants. Heureusement, désormais il fait beau. L’arrivée sur le lac marque la fin des « difficultés », nous mettons le kayak à l’eau pour 10 km. Pagayer sur ce lac est bien plus reposant que sur la mer, l’eau est plus chaude, le vent moins fort et on peut s’arrêter n’ importe où.
Nous voilà aux fermes de Qanisartut où il nous reste un dernier portage de 2 km avant d’atteindre le fjord d’Igaliku sur la piste carrossable ils sont avalés sans problème. Nous ramons ensuite quelques kilomètres sur le fjord pour nous éloigner de l’embarcadère des fermes et nous stoppons l’étape sur une belle pelouse d’herbe parfaitement plate au dessus de la mer.
Le soir, malgré les nuages il fait doux et nous dégustons au coin du feu une morue tout juste pêchée.
Dimanche 1er septembre
Première pluie et celle-ci a duré toute la nuit, le vent souffle très fort et le fjord est bien agité. Ce n’est même pas la peine d’essayer de prendre la mer. Nous trainons dans la tente puis partons à la pêche. A 10h les conditions sont un peu meilleures et nous tentons l’étape mais dès la sortie de notre petite baie des violentes vagues soulèvent le kayak et un vent très fort nous repousse dans notre anse.
Nous nous ne faisons pas prier pour y retourner 10 minutes à peine après notre départ ! Nous remontons le camp au même endroit. Après le pique-nique et plusieurs heures de pêche à la morue, le vent s’estompe largement et le fjord se lisse. Nous retentons.
Aucune difficulté, la navigation est facile. L’ambiance est très belle le long de la côte bien déchiquetée : le ciel est noir et des bancs de brouillard enveloppent les montagnes mais sur la mer tout est calme. L’après midi est bien avancé lorsque nous nous lançons dans une traversée de 5 km. Le jour décline, le vent se lève, la pluie recommence et nous ramons de plus belle pour vite atteindre la côte opposée. Sous une bonne pluie nous montons le camp à côté d’un troupeau de vaches, en face du village d’Igaliku dont nous captons le réseau et au passage les sms météos des parents.
Lundi 2 septembre
Temps très couvert mais sans la pluie qui était pourtant annoncée. Nous gagnons Igaliku après 2h de navigation. Au milieu de beaux pâturages bien verts et bien plats (pour le pays) les petites maisons colorées ont leur charme. Au niveau de la centrale de panneau solaire nous accostons pour un portage de 1,5 km ponctué d’un lac de la même distance.
Nous savons maintenant qu’en transportant en deux fois nos affaires le calcul est simple : 3 km = 3h d’effort.
Nous atteignons le fjord pour le pique-nique qui est savouré sous un soleil inespéré. Il y a un petit sentiment de satisfaction : Narsarsuaq n’est qu’à 18 km de kayak, dans un fjord bien protégée et sans portage, nous considérons alors la traversée bouclée. Il nous reste donc 4 jours complets à combler d’explorations diverses à pied ou en kayak. Sans hésitation nous mettons le cap sur le fjord Qooqqut et de son front glaciaire pour rattraper un peu le manque d’icebergs plus au sud. A l’entrée de la vallée Qooqqut Kua, nous montons un camp dans une ambiance étrange : le décor est très minéral, de hautes faces rocheuses branlantes entourent le fjord, le delta de la rivière est immense et draine de l’eau grisâtre dans le fjord dont l’eau bleue charrie des icebergs d’une blancheur éclatante.
Dans ce décor irréel nous installons la tente au sommet d’une grande moraine pour s’abriter d’éventuelles chutes de pierre en provenance des pentes qui nous surplombent.
Nous dégustons au réchaud les moules du jour. Exceptionnellement, comme le sol est fait de gravier, nous cuisinons dans le auvent de la tente pour gagner en sécurité, alors que jusqu’ici (et comme toujours) la cuisine était effectuée dans la chambre intérieure. Dans cet espace exigu, les flammes lèchent les parois du double toit et finissent par y faire un trou mais l’incendie est évité. C’est la première fois après des centaines de séances de cuisine sous tente qu’un incident m’arrive. Pas sûr donc, qu’utiliser le réchaud dans le auvent soit plus sûr que dans la tente en elle-même.
Mardi 3 septembre
Nous partons pour une journée repos : randonner avec de petits sacs le long de la rivière. L’objectif est les deux immenses glaciers (dont nous ignorons les noms) en pied d’éléphants qui ferment la vallée. Nous traversons une petite forêt de bouleaux qui dépassent les 3-4 mètres, il serait possible de monter dans certains. Beaucoup de portions le long des blocs du lit de la rivière rendent la marche un peu compliquée.
Nous finissons par déboucher dans une gravière immense et tellement plate que nous avons l’impression qu’un rouleau compresseur est passé. Devant nous, deux immenses murailles glaciaires en arc de cercle soulèvent des grosses moraines.
Il se met à pleuvoir mais comme l’endroit est absolument atypique nous poursuivons. Nous sommes bientôt arrêtés par un grand lac rempli d’icebergs : il est alimenté par un bras mort du glacier Qooqqup. La tente n’est qu’à 15 kilomètres mais il nous faut penser à rentrer, le terrain n’est pas vraiment des plus déroulant.
Le soir le mauvais temps se lève franchement, il pleut et tout est pris dans la brume. Dans les éboulis masqués par le brouillard qui menacent la tente, un animal (sûrement un logopède) émet de curieux sons assez effrayants ce qui, à la tombée de la nuit, n’est pas très rassurant !
Mercredi 4 septembre
La pluie a cessé mais le ciel est très menaçant. Nous reprenons la mer en direction de la muraille du glacier mais nous sommes vite arrêtés par une multitude de morceaux de glace. Il n’empêche que cela fait plaisir de naviguer dans les petits chenaux d’eau perdus au milieu des glaces flottantes. Enfin quelques icebergs !
Vers le milieu de la matinée, nous reprenons la direction de Narsarsuaq où notre ultime portage nous attend du port de la «ville» jusqu’à l’auberge de jeunesse.
Nous nous arrêtons au Blue Ice café où Jacky , le propriétaire, nous explique qu’il n’a jamais vu aussi peu d’icebergs depuis 23 ans sur place. La faute aux tempêtes de cet hiver qui les ont tous fait dériver au large.
Nous montons le camp derrière l’auberge de jeunesse tout en se préparant à une randonnée de deux jours dans les montagnes environnantes. La nuit, une grande aurore boréale traverse tout le ciel mais la lumière de la lune étant très forte, la couleur verte est plutôt pâle.
Jeudi 5 septembre
Nous partons à pied avec nos sacs dans la vallée de l’hôpital. Nous visons l’extrémité de la bande de rochers au-dessus de Narsarsuaq qui est quand même à 25 km à vol d’oiseau. Le début de la randonnée est facile puisqu’il s’effectue d’abord sur un chemin carrossable puis sur un bon sentier. Ensuite dans les montagnes, la marche se complique : éboulis, tourbières, dalles moutonnées et multiples montées/descentes morainiques ponctuent le parcours. Mais à mesure que l’altitude s’élève la vue est de plus en plus grandiose sur les montagnes qui émergent de l’inlandsis. Notre chemin croise celui de 3 lièvres arctiques vraiment pas farouches.
Nous montons le camp en début d’après midi afin de continuer sans les sacs vers le point culminant de toutes ces collines. Sur la carte et même visuellement il n’est pas loin mais il nous faut 2h30 pour atteindre la côte 1102 m. La vue est alors magnifique et il s’en suit une longue pause contemplative sur les grands méandres glaciaires qui dégueulent de l’inlandsis entre d’immenses montagnes. C’est grandiose.
Long retour au camp que nous atteignons en même temps que les premières gouttes.
Vendredi 6 septembre
A 6h au réveil le bruit des gouttes n’incite pas vraiment à sortir du duvet. Nous pensons alors au long retour sur Narsarsuaq qui nous attend sous la pluie. Mais à peine sortis de la tente la pluie s’arête et nous devinons que la journée sera belle au vu des nombreuses percées de ciel bleu qui apparaissent. Plutôt que de rentrer directement nous visons les falaises surplombant le front du glacier Qooqqup que nous avons presque atteint en kayak il y a 3 jours. Après une succession de ressauts plus moins raides et hauts nous débouchons sur la mer 200 m au dessus de la muraille de glace.
Quelle vue ! Cette fois, lorsque nous reprenons la marche vers Narsarsuaq, il règne alors une triste ambiance de fin de vacances.
Pendant ces deux jours de randos juste derrière la ville, dans une zone cartographiée au 1/100 000, pourvue de chemins dont les descriptions sont affichées partout dans Narsarsuaq (Blue Ice cafe et à l’auberge) nous n’avons pas croisé ni aperçu une seule personne…
A l’auberge nous passons notre première nuit dans un lit depuis le début de séjour. C’est aussi l’occasion de faire une activité très rare au Groenland : la conversation avec d’autres touristes.
Samedi 7 septembre
Nous «visitons» Narsarsuaq le matin en attendant le vol à 12h20 pour Reykjavik. Nous nous retrouvons à l’estuaire de la rivière qui est en fait la décharge…. Mais surtout nous scrutons le ciel et ses bans de brouillard qui accrochent certaines montagnes. A l’aéroport l’avion est bien affiché à l’heure et à 12h20 nous embarquons. Arriver et repartir du Groenland sans retard avec tous ses bagages est toujours une petite victoire.
En Islande, sous une légère bruine, nous parcourons à pied les quelques kilomètres qui séparent l’aéroport de Reykjavik de notre hôtel Travel Inn situé juste à côté du terminal de bus.
Dimanche 8 septembre
Lever à 4h, nous prenons le bus de 4h30 pour rejoindre Keflavik. Les vols pour la France et en général pour toute l’Europe sont très matinaux : entre 7h et 9h.
A Roissy, une mauvaise surprise nous attend : nous retrouvons sur le tapis le kayak mais pas 2ème sac. Heureusement que cette perte (sur un vol direct et sans retard) à lieu au retour ! Sans notre bagage nous retournons à Lyon en TGV. Enfin à 22h30 me voila à Chorges (05). Demain à 8h, il faudra aller au travail.
Vendredi 13 septembre
5 jours après l’arrivée, le second bagage arrive à mon domicile par Chronopost.
Faire du kayak gonflable dans le sud du Groenland
La région est très accueillante, beaucoup de vallées sont bien vertes avec des petits arbres (bouleau rampant ou saule) il y a d’ailleurs souvent des moutons en semi-liberté. Les endroits pâturés, au pied des immenses montagnes, contrastent énormément avec la mer ou le décor glaciaire et minéral des sommets.
Même si forcément on retrouve moins l’ambiance polaire des régions plus au nord, les montagnes de la pointe sud sont fantastiques. Ce sont soit de grandes tours de granit d’une pureté incroyable qui dépassent les 1000 m soit de grandes faces complexes toutes écroulées mais tout aussi esthétiques. Pagayer au milieu de ces géantes est à coup sur une expérience remarquable.
Avantage ou inconvénient selon les points de vue, l’engagement dans la zone est assez limité puisqu’elle est parsemée de nombreux petits villages ou de fermes isolées. Il est donc facile de se ravitailler ou de capter du réseau (et la météo) entre deux passages un peu plus sauvages. Rares sont les jours où nous n’avons pas croisé un bateau de pêche.
Malgré notre départ tardif dans la saison nous avons bénéficié de températures très clémentes bien plus agréables qu’à Ilulissat aux mêmes dates. Cette fois ci nous ne grelottions pas aux pauses pique-nique et n’étions pas cloitrés dans la tente le soir. De nombreux repas du soir ont pu être pris dehors et cela était fort agréable. Déguster son poisson et ses moules au feu sur des plages sauvages complètement seul est toujours un moment fort.
Sur ce voyage, pas la peine de tirer des comparaisons entre les kayaks gonflables et les kayaks rigides : vu le nombre de portages et puisque nous faisions une traversée, le gonflable était quasiment la seule embarcation qui nous permettait d’envisager ce parcours.
Aussi, en tant que kayakiste «intermédiaire», en présence de houle ou de vent, il est très plaisant de se savoir dans une embarcation insubmersible et facile à remettre à flot. De plus, pour 20 kg dans un seul et même sac ils sont très facilement transportables. Ce poids «plume» et cette compacité pour un biplace de randonnée sont vraiment les atouts de ce gonflable.
La zone de Nanortalik se prête très bien au kayak gonflable puisque du Tasermiut via des portages pas si longs il est possible de s’échapper du fjord (et d’en revenir) pour explorer les différents fjords encore plus à l’Est et qui sur la carte semblent très intéressants et bien sauvages.
C’était notre premier voyage en combinaison sèche, là aussi la comparaison entre ce vêtement et le couple: pantalon néoprène + blousons de kayak est inutile. Pagayer en combinaison c’est tout simplement un autre sport : on est toujours sec, on a moins froid aux pauses, les embarquements/débarquements sont grandement facilités et on se sent un peu moins vulnérables loin des côtes. Bref une fois la facture digérée, ce n’est que du bonheur. Nous avions des Crocs™ pour protéger la chaussette de la combinaison, à refaire nous les prendrions 3 à 4 pointures au dessus de notre taille afin de pouvoir mettre plusieurs grosses chaussettes en laine sans avoir le pied compressé.
Le voyage a couté 1800 euros de Paris à Paris avec notamment 1300 euros d’avion, 200 euros de bateau, 300 euros de courses et d’hôtels.
Le parcours
Nous avons parcouru 270 km en kayak/portage et marché 3 journées complètes dans les montagnes à la fin de séjour.
La navigation dans cette zone très encaissée n’est pas piégeuse. La plupart du temps nous étions à plus de 50 km de la mer ouverte et de ses tourments. Evidemment pour éviter les caprices éoliens de l’après midi nous attaquions tous les jours les étapes de kayak tôt le matin (vers 7h). Cela permet également d’avoir l’après midi ou les températures sont plus agréables pour faire d’autres activités (pêches, rando, cuisine…).
La principale «règle» de sécurité est d’avoir une bonne marge de temps afin de ne jamais hésiter à stopper la navigation dès que les conditions se dégradent. Viser 15 kilomètres (à vol d’oiseaux) par jour en moyenne est très raisonnable, en gonflable cela représente environ 4h à 5h de navigation effective. Il n’est pas très fatiguant d’en effectuer 20 à 25 lorsque les conditions sont bonnes et donc de prendre de l’avance (ou de rattraper son retard) du à une mauvaise météo.
Bien que n'ayant pas l'intention de faire un "truc" pareil, j'ai "survolé" ce compte rendu aussi intéressant que le précédent. Donc, je vais m'y remettre dans le week end quand j'aurai un peu plus de temps, car il mérite qu'on s'y attarde. Merci pour ce partage.
Salut Pierre!
Ah je me suis régalée en lisant ton récit, vous avez vu des coins superbes et fait des photos sublimes!
En as-tu mis d'autres qq part sur le net?
Je m'étais imaginée que vous aviez fait ce parcours dans l'autre sens...mais au moins comme ça moins d'aléas à la fin avant l'avion du retour (je parle d'expérience comme tu le verras dans mon carnet...)
Jacky nous a dit qu'il arrêtait de bosser cette année, je ne sais pas si qqn va reprendre la suite.
Et à Rodebay, Julien a arrêté aussi cet été.
Donc tu vois que ton gonflable risque de resservir!
A+
Marie
Merci beaucoup pour ce récit et ces superbes photos ! Nous avons découvert le Groenland cette année, façon pépère... Une dizaine de jours à Ilulissat et 3 à Nuuk. Je constate que le Sud a quand même des paysages un peu différents, de quoi donner envie d'aller le découvrir !
Merci à tous pour vos messages, ça fait plaisir.
Non j'ai pas mis de photos ailleurs (j'en ai pas tellement plus à part des moins belles)
Je me demande si Jacky va chercher/trouver un repreneur, vu de l'extérieur ça à l'air de bien marcher ...
J'attends ton récit!!?
Je viens de le terminer!
Pour Jacky chépas, il nous a dit ça de but en blanc alors qu'on speedait pour trier nos affaires avant le bateau.
A mon avis ça va continuer car en effet il semble avoir une bonne équipe...
Génial le compte rendu! Super précis et instructif! Ça donne envie d'aller aussi au sud. Il faudrait que je fasse le mien aussi mais mon temps libre passe dans la préparation de mon voyage 2020.
Tu parles d'un risque de tsunami sur Ummanaq, est ce vraiment important ? A Saqqaq ils en parlent aussi mais Jeff le chti figure locale de Saqqaq nous dit que ça fait 10 ans qu'ils en parlent. On envisage toujours Ummanaq en 2021, il faudra qu'on étudie la question avec sérieux.
Merci encore pour ton compte rendu c'est du beau boulot!
Bonjour
Merci pour le message c'est sympa.
Il y'a selon le GEUS, l'institut de géologie danois de géologie, contacté en juin 2019 un très fort risque d’effondrement imminent de tout un pan de montagne (nommée Skredfjeld) sur la rive nord du fjord Kangigleq. Avec création d'une vague pouvant submerger une grande zone qui s’étend du nord de l'île d'Upernivik jusqu'au nord de l'île Nugatsiaq (dont le village est d'ailleurs tjs abandonné depuis le tsunami de 2017).
Bon après c'est les probabilités et c'est une zone située à plus de 100 km d'Uummannaq...
La partie sud-est du fjord et la rive nord de la presque île de Nugssuaq semblent protégées...
Pour les icebergs, il fallait y aller un peu plus tôt, il y en avait un peu ! 😉
Jacky m'a dit qu'il revendait ses parts à la société danoise qui détient déjà une partie de sa société. Vu qu'il travaille avec Disko Line qui utilise ses propres bateaux, je suppose que ce sont eux qui vont reprendre. J'espère qu'ils resteront aussi bien car j'ai loué un rigide et compte le refaire.
Pour le fjord de Tasermiut, les tentes sont nombreuses devant les parois car il y a aussi cette horrible société espagnole qui est si mal gérée, en sus des grimpeurs.
Marie, j'attends ton récit aussi, je vais voir sur ton site. Les messages de M. me sont parvenus trop tard pour t'être utile, désolée !
Intéressant cette histoire. A Saqqaq ils attendent un effondrement rocheux sur l'île de Disko en face si j'ai bien tout compris... Un peu flippant en effet.
Salut S.
Mon récit est en ligne depuis longtemps!
Et toi? raconte un peu?
Je ne comprends pas ce que tu dis à propos de Disko Line et Blue Ice, tu peux développer?
Tu as loué un kayak à Blue Ice et l'as mis sur un bateau de Disko Line jusqu'à Nanoralik A/R?
Pour nous (après toi et après les icebergs😛), ce n'était pas la foule dans le fjord de Tasermiut mais je crois qu'on est passé entre 2 fournées d'espagnols. Tu y es allée aussi finalement? j'avais cru comprendre que tu visais l'autre fjord parallèle à l'ouest?
Salut Marie-Flore,
Oui on a fait un tour bien tranquille en kayak, on a plus marché et on s'est régalé!
A défaut de récit, tu n'aurais pas mis en ligne qq photos?
A+
Marie
Non pas encore mais tu peux les regarder là:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/SWyAeMJswJD4XXS9A
Notre tour était pépère aussi et on a eu un temps de folie, du bleu tous les jours.
On repart en 2021 tellement cela nous a plu.
Désolée, j'étais noyée sous le travail ce dernier mois, je n'ai pas eu le temps de faire quoi que ce soit d'autre ! Je viens de regarder, super les photos !
En fait, les bateaux de Disko Line appartiennent à Blue Ice. Si tu es passée au Blue Ice Cafe, leurs bureaux sont dans la même pièce que ceux de Jacky. J'ai effectivement loué le kayak à Blue Ice et on l'a mis sur le bateau pour Nanortalik. Ensuite, comme je comptais randonner, j'ai remis le kayak et le matériel à Disko Line à Nanortalik qui ont tout ramené à Narsarsuaq.
Je suis partie en kayak de Nanortalik, ai remonté le long du trajet des bateaux de ligne jusqu'au nord de l'île de Sermersoq, puis suis allée quasiment au fond du fjord de Sondre Sermilik avant de revenir à Nanortalik. Ensuite, j'ai voulu faire un trek dans le fjord de Tasermiut, mais j'ai eu du mal à trouver un transfert - je confirme que les voyageurs individuels n'intéressent personne là-bas - et c'est là que j'ai eu affaire à l'infect Jose de Tasermiut SG.
Je me suis fait débarquer à Tasiusaq et suis montée jusqu'à Tiningnertoq, avec une incursion dans la vallée et aussi dans celle de Klosterdalen, puis j'ai partagé un zodiac au retour avec des grimpeurs suédois depuis le fameux camp.
Je n'ai pu avoir les infos que je voulais qu'en croisant d'autres voyageurs en campant à l'auberge de jeunesse de Nanortalik au retour. Je déconseille le trek là-bas, les bouleaux sont ultra pénibles, on piétine plus qu'on marche, c'est crevant et hyper frustrant.
J'ai croisé pas mal de randonneurs dans Klosterdalen, beaucoup s'y font déposer. Et il y avait beaucoup de monde au campement de Tasermiut SG à mon retour, à l'aller, tout le monde était parti en montagne.
Beaucoup de croisiéristes à Nanortalik au retour aussi, peu agréable mais je suis allée au sommet aussi, la vue est incroyable !
J'ai pas mal échangé avec la nouvelle gérante de l'office du tourisme de Nanortalik, Ellen Madsen, elle est très sympa et loue des kayaks également, mais je ne sais pas comment ils sont et elle n'a pas de combi sèche, juste des anoraks.
Tu es sûre que Disko Line appartient à Blue Ice? Ils ont un paquet de bateaux, y compris dans la baie de Disko et des dizaines de salariés! Tu ne crois que qu'ils se coordonnent mais que ce sont 2 entités différentes?
Tu as fait une sacrée virée en kayak, seule en plus, bravo! Sur Google Earth on dirait que les glaciers qui débouchent au fond du Sermilik fjord sont encore actifs non? Pas trop dur de trouver où bivouaquer sur les rives?
J'ai trouvé que le coin de Narsaq est qd même plus propice au kayak, plus découpé avec plus de possibilités de varier les itinéraires...Là c'est 50 km de fjord dans un sens, idem au retour, avec les mêmes paysages. Heureusement que les lumières ne sont jamais les mêmes!
Tu es bien remontée contre "l'infect José". c'est vrai qu'on ne garde pas un souvenir impérissable de Tasermiut : on a eu l'impression de les déranger et qu'ils étaient pas mal désorganisés sans être "nuisibles" pour autant.
Quant à Ellen, j'ai échangé 1 ou 2 mails avec elle et ensuite plus rien...
Il y a des trucs qui nous échappent à Nanortalik...depuis que Niels a pris sa retraite j'ai l'impression que ça "grenouille" pas mal...
Tu as eu du bon matos chez Blue Ice? En tout cas c'est bon à savoir cette possibilité de louer chez eux et de prendre un bateau de Disko Line avec, et en plus la possibilité de ne pas avoir à ramener soi-même le matos! Comment le kayak était-il installé sur le bateau de Disko? Cela aurait été possible pour un double?
Ça en fait des questions! Mais les infos pratiques sont si rares...
Marie
Tu peux aussi envisager de te rendre à Arsuk avec l'arctic Umiaq Line 150 km plus au nord ouest de Narsaq pour ensuite revenir en kayak au point de départ. Ils peuvent transporter des kayaks pour un supplément de 300 DKK. Les centaines d'îles minuscules ont l'air amusantes en kayak et il y'a des bœufs musqués à certains endroits...
Non, je ne veux pas dire que Disko Line appartient à Blue Ice mais que les bateaux appartiennent à Blue Ice. Pour le rachat, ce n'est que spéculation de ma part. Il y a pas mal de bateaux en effet, Jacky m'a dit leur nombre mais j'ai oublié, moi et les chiffres... 😄 À son arrivée au Groenland, Jacky était installé à Disko et il n'est venu dans le sud que plus tard.
J'ai fait très très calme en kayak franchement ! J'avais prévu large en cas de problème météo et la météo a été très clémente pendant cette période. J'ai aussi une tendinite qui était assez prononcée à ce moment-là car j'ai fait beaucoup de kayak l'année dernière, donc je ne voulais pas forcer. Je compte retourner dans le coin pour faire quelque chose de plus engagé mais cela demande de la préparation et ce voyage m'a aussi permis de faire du repérage.
Le glacier au fond est séparé en deux parties, dont l'une tombe encore dans la mer, c'est super beau mais il ne faut pas trop l'éventer car c'est super calme et c'est génial. J'ai trouvé à bivouaquer mais souvent, il n'y avait de place que pour une tente, trois au maximum à certains endroits. C'est aussi pour ça que c'est calme, beaucoup plus que le fjord de Tasermiut où plein de bateaux circulent et où les groupes peuvent camper. J'ai vu plein de phoques respirer, des oiseaux, entendu des renards polaires (je pense que les empreintes que tu montres sont les leurs) et les traces des boeufs musqués que tu as vus de l'autre côté !
Je n'ai pas été lassée par les paysages, les bords sont quand même assez variés, je me suis demandé tout le long si le glacier tombait dans l'eau ou pas, et j'ai aimé les montagnes, plus quelques petites surprises.
Pour Jose, tu étais accompagnée d'un homme et crois-moi, ça fait toute la différence ! J'ai parlé à l'une des anciennes employées de la société qui m'a confirmé ce qu'il en est.
Ellen Madsen n'a pas répondu à mes mails avant non plus mais une fois sur place, elle est sympa. Il y a aussi une autre société, Tasermiut Camp, avec des Groenlandais, qui ont l'air beaucoup plus sympas et sérieux (ils ont un site Internet et ce sont les seuls qui m'ont répondu régulièrement) mais ils ne louent pas de kayaks.
Pour le matos, oui. Le kayak, un Venture Easky 15, était très bien pour des expéditions, mais beaucoup de prise au vent pour moi. La combi sèche était un peu fatiguée mais on ne peut pas le leur reprocher, c'est du matériel de location. J'avais emmené ma propre pagaie sinon et j'ai loué un téléphone satellite.
Le kayak est posé sur le pont à droite de la cabine, pas de souci pour un double, mais un soir, j'ai pris le bateau venant du sud et il était plus petit alors il faut voir avec eux avant je pense.
Pas de souci pour les infos pratiques, j'en ai récupéré pas mal sur place moi aussi, on ne parvient à rien par mail.
Pierre, désolée si je détourne le carnet, je continuerai en privé si vous le préférez. Merci pour le compte rendu d'ailleurs !
Que veux-tu dire par « grenouiller » ?
Je suis prête à partager toutes les infos dont je dispose, c'est tellement difficile d'en avoir dans le coin ! J'en ai beaucoup appris en campant à côté de l'auberge de jeunesse de Nanortalik où beaucoup d'individuels dormaient, c'était très intéressant.
Salut Pierre!
Oui c'est une idée aussi! Il me semble d'ailleurs avoir lu un récit sur ce parcours...
Et toi tu réfléchis tjs à l'île de Milne?
J'ai regardé les vols, c'est encore plus cher que partout ailleurs au Groenland!
Ah ! L'île de Milne ! C'est dans mes projets pour les prochaines années mais attention, j'y suis déjà allée à ski-pulka avec agence au printemps et la logistique est beaucoup plus compliquée que dans le sud.
Je comprends qu'après la quiétude du Sermilik, la "foule" du Tasermiut a du te peser...
Pour les traces, chépas, je dirais que les renards n'ont pas de griffes rétractiles nan?
Okééé...donc en fait les individuelLES intéressent qd même certains membres de l'équipe...
Oui j'ai aussi eu une très bonne impression avec les gens de Tasermiut Camp mais qd je leur ai dit que j'étais déjà en pourparler avec Tasermiut Expedition, ils m'ont élégamment suggéré de poursuivre avec eux (en fait à un moment je me suis demandé si ce n'était pas la même société...mais nan!)
grenouiller (wikipedia) : (Familier) (Péjoratif) Intriguer ou manœuvrer pour obtenir un résultat à son avantage.
C'est indiscret de te demander quel est ce projet plus engagé? Tu n'es pas attirée par la région plus à l'est?
Je ne sais pas pour les griffes rétractiles, ou alors, ce sont des traces de lièvres ?
En fait, je ne sais pas si elles les intéressent mais ils ne veulent pas qu'elles se baladent toutes seules dans le coin, ça c'est certain ! Et ils sont prêts à raconter n'importe quoi pour leur faire peur et les traitent comme des gamines écervelées qui ne savent pas où elles mettent les pieds. J'ai passé un sale quart d'heure, en résumé. Sans compter que le tarif n'est pas toujours le même, j'ai pu comparer avec UN autre voyageur...
Oui, les noms sont très proches mais ils sont vraiment plus sympas. Je les ai croisés à plusieurs reprises et un autre voyageur avec qui j'ai échangé a fait affaire avec eux.
Je ne sais pas pour le grenouillage, rien n'est clair là-bas, j'ai posé des questions mais bon... On m'a dit qu'avant, il y avait beaucoup plus de voyageurs individuels mais que rien n'était fait pour les encourager et ça se voit. Les croisiéristes rapportent beaucoup plus d'argent sans trop se fatiguer. D'ailleurs, pour info, les jours où les croisiéristes sont là, si vous n'êtes pas présents dans le bourg depuis un moment, le musée est payant.
Pour mon projet, je voudrais passer par la mer pour explorer la région au nord du Cap Farvel. Je suis attirée par l'Est, mais j'y suis déjà allée à ski-pulka et il faut d'abord que j'apprenne à tirer, avant de voir si on veut bien me louer un kayak... J'aimerais aussi faire des expés le long des côtes, mais il faut trouver des voiliers qui vont dans le coin pour la logistique à un prix raisonnable et ce n'est pas facile. J'en connais mais certains sont à éviter et je dois aussi développer mes compétences, ce n'est pas quelque chose qui s'improvise, je précise bien qu'il ne faut pas partir seul comme moi sans avoir d'expérience, puisque nous sommes sur Internet. C'est risqué.
Je suis moins attirée par la région où tu es allée car j'aime aussi voir de belles montagnes et les plus belles sont dans le sud.
L'idée de départ est de partir de Ummanaq mais 2 choses me font hésiter : le coût du transport sur Ummanaq et ce risque d'effondrement de montagne qui a l'air assez sérieux. Il n'est pas impossible qu'on.fasse le tour de Arve Princess car on partirait a 4 personnes 2 bateaux dans un souci de sécurité.
J'ai regardé...ça ne ressemble pas à des traces de lièvre. On dirait vraiment des traces de chat mais il n'y a pas d'humain à moins de 25 ou 30 km de lande humide, au bas mot...Bizarre!
Ah j'avais compris que José t'avais fait du gringue...ne crois-tu pas qu'il aurait aussi mis en garde un homme seul? C'est quand même des coins où la situation peut vite devenir compliquée et je reconnais qu'il faut savoir "se vendre" pour essayer de rassurer les prestataires locaux. Peut-être as-tu été trop modeste? As-tu mis en avant tes expériences précédentes? Je crois qu'ils doivent parfois avoir à faire à des "pénibles" dans leurs tours organisés et du coup ils noircissent un peu le tableau afin de décourager les moins préparés.
Quant au prix qui varie, ça dépend des navettes déjà prévues, selon qu'elles sont partagées ou non.
Pour le musée, il était en effet gratuit (et ouvert qq heures/jour, grâce à de vieux pépés bénévoles) quand nous y étions.
Il y a plein d'autres villages où le musée n'ouvre que pour les croisiéristes...
Moi aussi la côte est m'attire mais j'ai le physique d'une ménagère de plus de 50 ans et suis assez contemplative donc plus tentée par une balade qu'une expédition! Mais en même temps je n'aime pas être "guidée" et me voir imposer un rythme. C'est pour ça que je rassemble autant d'infos que possible pour voir ce qui est réalisable sans exploit physique tout en sortant un peu des sentiers battus.
Il y a en plus le problème des ours...je suis une grosse dormeuse et j'aime dormir sur mes 2 zoreilles!
Du coup j'ai quand même regardé une pub que j'ai reçu pour une "expédition" en voilier dans le Scoresbysund ($$$ en effet) et ce que tu dis à propos des bateaux à éviter m'interpelle, je veux bien en savoir plus (en privé si tu préfères)
D'accord, alors là, je donne ma langue au chat ! 😏
Pour Jose, non franchement, j'ai déjà eu affaire à des personnes qui voulaient s'assurer que j'étais préparée et ce n'était pas du tout comme ça, il n'y avait rien de bienveillant chez lui, j'ai aussi vu son comportement vis à vis d'une jeune et jolie grimpeuse et il a aussi une attitude très louche vis à vis des femmes par moments. J'ai aussi parlé à des hommes qui ont eu affaire à lui et il ne les a pas du tout traités comme ça. Je ne suis pas du genre à vendre mon expérience, je ne vois pas pourquoi je devrais me justifier alors qu'on ne demande rien à un homme mais j'ai dû le faire en partie et c'était très humiliant, d'autant plus que je prépare soigneusement mes voyages et suis très prudente.
Pour le prix, cela dépend de qui conduit et je peux te dire que quand le patron n'est pas là, il ne sort pas beaucoup de sa maison pour aller en mer.
Je suis aussi contemplative mais je suis sportive ! Tu fais des supers trucs, j'aime beaucoup ta façon de voyager et je trouve que faire ça en famille et le faire découvrir à ses enfants est génial.
Oui pour les ours, j'ai longtemps hésité mais je suis décidée à sauter le pas. J'ai lu des récits, donc c'est faisable, il faut juste être préparé et être prêt.
Je connais ce blog, j'aime beaucoup ce que fait ce photographe et c'est l'une de mes inspirations. J'ai échangé avec lui aussi pour avoir des infos et il est sympa. Je suis d'autres blogs du même genre pour les infos.
D'ailleurs, il a fait un petit film sur Jeff qui est sur les photos de Marifb ! Il l'a rencontré plus au nord. C'était amusant.
Non on est tombé sur lui en débarquant du bateau à Saqqaq. Et il nous a pas mal briefé pour la semaine kayak qu'on allait faire. Il adore voir des gens car il n'y a pas une folle activité à Saqqaq😉. On a fait une journée de kayak vers son île où il a posé des cabanes, il voulait qu'on y dorme mais on n'avait pas trop envie d'inconfort à ce moment sachant qu'on avait notre petite cabane arctique en location pour la semaine et qu'on partait en rando kayak juste après. On a passé pas mal de notre semaine à Saqqaq avec lui. C'est un gars incroyable, passionnant et bien marrant. Il connait le coin comme sa poche et a aidé Grand nord grand large à bosser dans la baie de Disko.
la cinquantaine c'est pile l'âge des grands champion(nnes) d'ultra trail. Parfait pour les efforts modérés pendant de longues heures. ;)
Non la je suis dans le voyage d'hiver notamment les alpes de Stauning à 200 km à l'ouest ittoqqortoormiit mais bon il faut emmener la bouffe de France, avoir un permis pour entrer dans le parc qui impose du matériel que je n'ai pas (VHF, tel sat, balise PLB...), se faire transférer sur 200 km aller retour, poser quasiment une semaine rien que pour les trajets..... c'est un peu décourageant
Il y'a bien une agence à Constable Point capable de s'occuper de tout ça : Tangent Expedition (qui sont d'ailleurs très réactifs et sympa...) mais on sur des budgets énormes, il faudrait pouvoir partir 5 ou 6 semaines.
Peut être que en été c'est plus facile et l'île de Milne n'est pas dans le parc
Je vais montrer ton message à Fred, ça va bien le faire rigoler!
Sinon oui j'ai repéré sur Google Earth ce coin qui a l'air ultra superbe!
Une balise PLB ne coute pas bien cher et tu auras l'occasion de la réutiliser...
Un tél satellite peut se louer, ce qui coûte cher c'est en plus les communications (plus de 150 € pour 75 mn à utiliser sur 1 mois)
A mon avis ça ne vaut plus le coût d'investir, il y a de nouvelles technologies qui apparraissent bien plus ergonomiques comme par exemple un hotspot wifi qui fonctionne par satellite -pas le temps là de retrouver les détails... peut-être garmin inreach)
Restent les transports, longs, chers et qui nécessitent une marge de sécurité (j'en sais qq chose!) donc en effet ça bouffe des congés...
La PLB peut se louer, le tél. satellite aussi je crois mais ils ne vous ont pas demandé une caution énorme surtout ? Parce que maintenant, pour traverser le Groenland à skis en individuel, c'est le cas.
Sinon, il y a la Terre de Liverpool, tu peux partir directement de l'aéroport sans payer de transfert. Tangent Expedition propose une traversée mais c'est très cher effectivement, il y a d'autres possibilités. Tu peux voir la carte et un récit sur le site de Michael Charavin aussi. Mais c'est du ski nordique, tu veux peut-être plutôt faire du ski de rando alpine ? Je pense qu'il y a des possibilités.
Pour l'île de Milne, c'est faisable, j'ai lu le récit d'un gars qui y est allé seul en envoyant son kayak par le fret maritime mais il y aussi une agence qui en loue. La grosse difficulté déjà, c'est de négocier avec la compagnie aérienne et tu n'es pas certain que tout ton matériel revienne avec toi parce que ça dépend du fret, il faut également prendre les billets très tôt.
Merci à vous deux pour vos réponses.
Oui rien d'insurmontable mais bon, tout mis bout à bout ça commence à faire un peu lourd.
C'est sur en revanche que la région et le coin ont l'air grandiose. Dans tous les récits qu'on peut trouver les photos sont sublimes.
La résolution Google Earth est en plus très bonne sur la partie sud des alpes il doit y avoir de belles boucles à faire en ski nordique par les différents glaciers...
Non je n'ai pas le détail pour la caution : l'agence propose un package transfert + permis + loc de matériel éventuel
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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.
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!
"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.
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!!!
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.
"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...
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.
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!
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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!
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:
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.
Preamble:
Africa was calling to me, so a year ago, with our usual travel companions, we decided to return to the continent we love so much.
Where to go?
Uganda quickly caught our attention—wildlife we’re used to seeing, plus gorillas and the shoebill we missed in Zambia.
We got in touch with Paul, who’s been mentioned several times on the forum back in September, booked our flight tickets, secured the gorilla permits, and by early October, the most important things were done.
We still had plenty of time to hold our "prep meetings" for the final itinerary.
Three days before departure, I sprained my ankle (my weak spot, as you’ll recall from our Colombia trip).
I wasn’t in great spirits, but after a year of waiting, nothing was going to stop me.
We’d see how it goes!
Off we went for our new adventures
If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!
Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with:
Zero preparation.
Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.
Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?
The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!
The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.
So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!
So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!
It often happens that we're asked what to visit in Belgium.
And the answers usually point to Bruges, Ghent, Antwerp, and Brussels—and rightly so, as these cities are well worth visiting ;).
However, Belgium, though small, isn’t just limited to these four cities.
I live in one of them (Brussels), enjoy spending time in the other three, but I’d like to highlight some lesser-known spots that could add to the trip for those who want to see a bit more or something different.
Between trips, I like exploring one or two corners of the country where I live.
Hence the idea for a travel journal of walks.
Most of the places I’ll talk about can be visited as a day trip from Brussels, whether by public transport or car.
In chronological order of the topics covered:
- The Gileppe Dam (Liège province) - message 2, page 1
- The Domaine de La Hulpe (Walloon Brabant) - message 3, page 1
- Mechelen (Antwerp province) - message 4, page 1
- The coast - message 5, page 1
- The Westhoek, from De Panne - message 6, page 1
- The Zwin, from Knokke - message 7, page 1
- Lier (between Mechelen and Antwerp) - message 8, page 1
- Mons (Hainaut) - message 9, page 1
- The Florenville region - message 12, page 1
- The East Cantons - message 13, page 1
- Dinant - message 18, page 1
- The Japanese garden in Hasselt - message 24, page 2
- Leuven - message 29, page 2
- Louvain-la-Neuve - message 32, page 2
- Ostend - message 42 (page 3) and message 166 (page 9)
- The floralies of Groot-Bijgaarden - message 43, page 3
- Halle Forest - message 44, page 3
- Pralines - message 54, page 3
- Charleroi - message 68, page 4
- Namur - message 92, page 5
- Le Bois du Cazier (Marcinelle) - message 95, page 5
- Couques and gosettes - message 96, page 5
- Liège - message 99, page 5
- Tournai - message 115, page 6
- Oudenaarde - message 121, page 7
- Meise Botanical Garden - message 124, page 7
- Tongeren - message 125, page 7
- Beersel Castle (Flemish Brabant) - message 126, page 7
- Brussels in lockdown (messages 150 and 154, page 8)
- Notre-Dame à la Rose Hospital in Lessines (messages 161 and 162, page 9)
- Westende (message 167, page 9)
I’ll keep updating this list as the journal progresses...
This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rental options kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!
The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan?
Not in the end.
The south or not the south?
Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or go with the flow?
Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela about this destination (the guide has been updated since).
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You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek!
(Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
You’ll find here a post with some practical information.
And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.
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As a supplement, the route track.
Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...
January 2026
Here we go again for new adventures and the pleasure of sharing them with you here! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me with the preparations, even with some last-minute improvisations just days before departure. Thanks to Montagnard74, Jojoone1, Songsam, Attila, Dennis2, NadegerFERM, and the authors whose travel journals about Laos inspired me (Montagnard74, Muriel18, Mavietongs...).
In this story, written by Richard and illustrated by me, we’ll tell you about the journey of four friends: Catherine, Richard, Nathalie, and Bruno. A reinvented but overall successful trip, filled with discoveries and surprises, the scents of spices and frangipani flowers, (too) spicy food, sunsets, and... one big mess.