Arrivée très tardive à Denver après un voyage long et fatiguant.
Récupération du SUV standard chez Alamo. Peu, voire pas de choix. Des hyundai Santa Fe et deux Kia. J’opte pour une Santa Fe Sport. Celle-ci est au moins AWD (automatic wheel drive) contrairement aux Kia.
Je n’ai pas réservé d’hôtel à Denver, préférant quitter de suite l’agglomération de la capitale du Colorado pour prendre de l’avance sur ma (très) longue journée de route du lendemain.
Malgré la fatigue et la nuit, je parviens à quitter la ville assez facilement et sans me tromper. Je file droit au nord sur l’interstate 25 North pendant deux bonnes heures avant de me trouver un motel quelque part entre Fort Collins et Cheyenne. Je m’endors comme une souche.
24 août – de Fort Collins à Badlands national park.
Réveil très matinal, décalage horaire oblige. Le lever du jour est encore loin. Le temps d’avaler un café dans salle d’accueil et je reprends la route.
J’adore ces voyages en solo dans l’ouest que je m’offre en général tous les deux ans. Ils m’apportent un sentiment de liberté assez grisant. On monte dans sa voiture de location et on part à l’aventure !
En préparant ce voyage, j’ai coché une série de sites que je n’avais pas encore arpentés et quelques autres que j’avais envie de revoir. Tout cela va m’amener à parcourir un nombre impressionnant de kilomètres à travers un cercle qui inclue le Colorado, le South Dakota, le Wyoming, l’Utah, l’Arizona, et le Nouveau Mexique. Je préfère ne pas compter.
Le programme de ce premier jour doit me faire gagner le South Dakota et le Badlands national park, Ca fait de la route pour une visite que je soupçonne un peu trop courte puisque j’ai prévu d’en repartir le lendemain matin. J’aurais dû prévoir davantage.
Il fait beau et la route est sympa. Les grandes plaines du Wyoming s’étirent sous le soleil matinal. Je fais une pause dans la petite ville de Custer, du nom du général de triste mémoire.
Puis c’est la traversée de Rapid city, agrémentée d’un rapide déjeuner. J’atteints l’entrée nord du Badlands national park en début d’après-midi. Beaucoup plus tôt qu’attendu. Tant mieux, je vais pouvoir en profiter. Le parc est tout en longueur et la route (Badlands loop road) qui le parcours du nord au sud est longue de 45 kilomètres. Le camping du parc que j’ai réservé est situé tout au bout de cette route, près de la sortie sud.
La première impression est excellente. Les falaises déchiquetées sont spectaculaires et plus haute que ce à quoi je m’attendais.
La route descend ensuite dans la vallée des « Yellow mounds ». C’est ma partie préférée du parc. On slalome entre des collines colorées surréalistes. Du jeune, du rouge, de l’orange au milieu d’une herbe vert pale. C’est sauvage, inattendu. J’adore…
Pas mal de pause à mesure que je progresse vers le sud. Certains points de vue improvisés sont incroyables. Dommage qu’une bande de brume grise bouche l’horizon et gâche un peu la perspective.
J’arrive au camping. Je mets un bon moment avant de trouver mon emplacement, celui-ci ayant été changé suite à quelques inondations dans la plaine.
Ballades dans la partie sud. Windows trail, tout petit bout du Notch trail et un peu d’improvisation. L’après-midi se déroule tranquillement sous un ciel d’azur.
Je m’interroge sur la partie à privilégier pour le coucher de soleil et je songe naturellement aux Yellow mounds.
Retour au nord, donc, après quelques arrêts pour de courtes ballades improvisées au milieu des badlands. Je suis complètement emballé par ce cadre atypique dont la lumière de fin de journée accentue la magie.
Je termine la journée sur une petite colline à l’entrée des Yellow mounds. Les couleurs qu’on peut y capter sont fabuleuses. Un coucher de soleil de compétition et qui ne ressemble à aucun autre.
Retour au camping à la nuit tombée. La particularité des campings des national parks, c’est que les rangers y organisent chaque soir des activités en rapport avec la nature. Ce soir, c’est « observation du ciel nocturne ». Deux télescopes ont été installés près du traditionnel amphithéâtre à ciel ouvert. L’un est braqué sur Jupiter, l’autre sur la Lune que je n’avais jamais vue d’aussi prêt. Une belle manière de terminer cette journée riche en découvertes. Je ne regrette décidément pas de m’être imposé ce long détour par le South Dakota.
25 aout 2018 : De Badlands national park à Devils Tower national monument.
Encore un réveil très matinal, volontaire celui-là. Emballé par le spectacle offert par les Yellow mounds au coucher du soleil, j’ai décidé d’aller y admirer le lever du jour.
Je commence par m’installer au point de vue « Conata Basin overlook » qui offre un point de vue général sur la zone.
Toujours cette zone de brume au-dessus de l’horizon qui retarde l’arrivée du soleil. Je l’attribue, peut-être à tort, aux nombreux incendies qui ravagent l’ouest depuis des semaines. Je me dis que je vais peut-être devoir subir ce désagrément esthétique pendant le reste du voyage.
Le soleil finit par dépasser la brume et c’est assez grandiose. Sans doute manque-t-il un ciel dramatique au décor. Mais bon… Apprenons à nous contenter de l’existant.
Je poursuis vers le bas de la vallée en opérant un stop rapide à mi-chemin de la descente. Quelques dizaines de mètres de marche permettent de bénéficier d'une vue étendue sur les mounds.
Ma prochaine étape se situe à Yellow Mounds overlook, qui se trouve au sommet de la petite colline colorée de la veille. Presque aussi bien que la veille.
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
25 aout 2018 : De Badlands national park à Devils Tower national monument (suite)
Je continue ma route vers la sortie nord en m'autorisant quelques pauses photos. Je me dis qu'une journée de plus dans ce parc m'aurait comblé en me donnant l'occasion de faire une longue randonnée dans la zone sud. Ce sera pour une autre fois. Quelques clichés de plus sur le chemin de la sortie nord.
La première pause sur le chemin de Devils tower sera pour le Custer national park dans lequel je fais une courte incursion. Plus précisément à Sylvan lake. J'ai en mémoire quelques scènes du film « Benjamin Gates » avec Nicolas Cage (le 1 ou le 2, je ne sais plus) qui m'ont toujours donné envie d'y passer. Bon, en fait, j'aurais pu m'en abstenir.
Etape suivante, la ville de Deadwood dont les beaux immeubles de pierre me charment dès mon arrivée. Un vrai décor de western. Mais il y a un hic. Plus précisément une convention de vieilles bagnoles et autres véhicules customisés de tous genres. La ville est pleine comme un œuf. Pas moyen de trouver une place de parking. Je suis obligé de renoncer, sous peine de me garer à plusieurs kilomètres du centre. Dommage car le spectacle offert par la ville autant que par la convention semblait valoir le coup d'œil. Un feu d'artifice de bizarreries chromées à la Mad Max. Je m'en serais certainement donné la peine si je n'avais pas eu un autre but pour cette journée. Je poursuis donc en direction de Devils Tower sans avoir pu m'arrêter.
J'y arrive en milieu d'après-midi. La tour est immense et se devine de très loin, malgré la brume épaisse qui continue de brouiller le ciel. Le contre-jour d'arrange rien car j'arrive de l'est et je file plein ouest.
Petit arrêt au camping KOA qui se trouve à l'entrée du parc. Hors de prix. Je préfère tenter ma chance au camping du parc, plus simple et plus tranquille.
Bonne pioche, il y a pléthore de places malgré la taille modeste du site, et ça ne coûte presque rien. Une fois enregistré, je file vers le majestueux monument.
Tout le monde l'aura reconnu : c'est à ses pieds que se déroulent les scènes finales de « Rencontre du troisième type », l'un des premiers Spielberg (1977). Elle fait 264 mètres de haut. Il s'agit en fait d'un colossal bloc de magma piégé par l'érosion.
Pour moi qui suis un inconditionnel de ce réalisateur depuis ses débuts, c’est presque une sorte de pèlerinage.
Je commence par le Tower trail, une boucle d'environ 2 kilomètres qui fait le tour du monument au plus près de la base. On peut y apercevoir des alpinistes en pleine ascension.
Je termine la journée en empruntant le Joyner Ridge trail. C'est une piste en bon état qui permet de s’éloigner de la tour afin de l'admirer dans son écrin de prairies. De là, on dirait un immense totem dressé. Comme une dent géante surgie de terre par on ne sait quel sortilège.
Revenu au camping après un court passage par l'épicerie du KOA, je me dirige vers l'amphithéâtre histoire de voir si une activité est prévue pour la soirée. Je me fais héler de loin par l'une des deux personnes présentes. C'est un propriétaire de ranch du coin (par le « coin », comprenez une zone d'environ 100 kilomètres de rayon) qui est venu présenter à la demande des rangers un petit spectacle à base de chansons country et d'histoires de cow-boys.
Je suis l'un des premiers sur place, donc on discute un peu avant l'arrivée des campeurs. Le type est sympathique, assez caustique et cool comme un concombre. A travers ses récits, il aime faire partager sa passion des chevaux. « I tolerate cats and dogs, dit-il, but I love horses ! »
Sa guitare sonne comme du cristal. Ses histoires sont drôles même si je ne comprends pas tout, ce dont il profite d'ailleurs pour me chambrer un peu. Idéale fin de soirée.
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Hello Patrice !
Je vais bien évidemment te suivre dans tes nouvelles aventures !
Dommage pour Deadwood car effectivement, c'est une ville "historique" qui m'avait vraiment plu lors de mon passage en 2013 (j'avais aussi visité son cimetière). Pour l'instant, tu suis le même itinéraire que moi à l'époque même si j'avais fait un long arrêt à Cheyenne pour participer aux Frontier Days (top !). A bientôt pour la suite !
Franck
Je suis admiratif de tes photos de tes Badlands, elles sont simplement superbes. Tu retouches tes photos? Elles me rappellent de bons souvenirs. Ce coin mérite vraiment le détour...
Comme Franck, je vais te suivre... J'aime toujours lire tes carnets!
Bienvenue à toi et merci de tes compliments, ça fait toujours plaisir. Un petit peu de photoshop pour les contrastes et la brume mais sans plus. Le secret, c'est de photographier au maximum durant la golden hour et un peu après (blue hour). C'est ce que j'ai fait durant ce voyage ou mon appareil est le plus souvent resté au fond du sac entre 10 et 18h.
@+
Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Epoustouflée par les Badlands ! un chouette carnet, on suit avec plaisir.
Christelle
"Il faut toujours viser la lune, car même en cas d’échec, on atterrit dans les étoiles" Oscar Wilde
USA 2014 / ECOSSE 2015 / ESPAGNE 2017 / USA 2018 / Bientôt Madère2021&Lanzarote2025
Très belles photos des badlands et notamment des yellow mounts que j'avais repérés depuis longtemps mais jamais eu l'occasion de voir.
Les photos aux belles heures du jour sont vraiment très jolies et donnent envie.
Je ne connaissais vraiment pas l'expression "cool comme un concombre"
Peut-être à modifier le cowboy et sa passion pour les cheveux au lieu des chevaux... enfin j'espère pour lui 😁
Pour voir mes carnets Ouest USA, cliquez sur mon pseudo puis cliquez celui désiré dans la rubrique "carnets" : Vous avez le choix avec 2009, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015 et 2016 : ça en fait de la lecture ! Et maintenant : la Chine !
Peut-être à modifier le cowboy et sa passion pour les cheveux au lieu des chevaux...
😄
"Cool comme un concombre" est une expression inventée par l'un de mes héros : le terrible et génial John McEnroe. C'est une expression qu'il avait lancée pour décrire Pete Sampras au début de sa carrière.
Si tu ne connais pas encore le parc des Badlands, je te le conseille vivement. Ça m'a scotché. Par contre, c'est loin de tout.
A+
Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Je vais également suivre ce carnet avec une belle entrée et les Badlands. J'y étais en 2017, mais nous ne sommes pas restés assez longtemps pour faire toutes les balades. J'ai adoré ce parc et rouler sur la piste pour en ressortir...
Deadwood très sympa , Devil's tower aussi.
Je suis prête à continuer la lecture de ce carnet...
Ayé, me voilà 🙂... et ravie de te suivre. J'ai toujours beaucoup de plaisir à lire tes carnets et à admirer tes superbes photos!! Sans compter les références cinématographiques 😉.
Là je suis scotchée par les Badlands du Dakota, la lumière..., ça donne vraiment envie de les découvrir. Et tant pis si c'est loin de tout, White Sands aussi, par exemple, et on avait bien fait le détour avec grand plaisir (d'autant qu'en remontant sur Sedona on était passés par Carrizozo 😉😎).
Salut Patrice ,
Décidément, plus je lis des carnets qui abordent les Badlands et plus j'ai envie d'y faire un saut !
Et tes photos ne gâchent rien ! Mais je ne vais pas poursuivre avec les compliments, d'autres l'ont fait, et tu risquerais de prendre la grosse tête. 😏
C'est vrai que c'est un parc qui se mérite, car il sort des circuits traditionnels et nécessite pas mal de route pour s'y rendre, mais est ce que la conséquence positive n'est pas une fréquentation "raisonnable" ?
Sinon j'ai vu que tu étais un sacré récidiviste et que tu sévis sur VF depuis pas mal d'années avec tes nombreux carnets ! 😉
Je fais un saut au Quebec fin mai et je me demande s'il est judicieux que je lise avant "comment j'ai (pas trop) aimé le Canada" ! 😏
Bienvenue à toi. Je vais essayer de ne Pas décevoir pour la suite. Comme toi je ne suis pas resté assez longtemps dans les badlands. Faut dire que je ne pensais pas qu'elles me charmeraient autant.
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Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Bienvenue Pascale. Eh oui, les badlands, ça vaut le déplacement malgré l'isolement et la distance. Ça te plairait beaucoup j'en suis certain. C'est exactement pour les mêmes raisons que je n'ai pas encore visité les white sands. Et l'Alaska c'est pour quand ?
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Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Mais je ne vais pas poursuivre avec les compliments, d'autres l'ont fait, et tu risquerais de prendre la grosse tête
Rassures toi, je l'ai déjà !😏
est ce que la conséquence positive n'est pas une fréquentation "raisonnable" ?
Sans doute, mais il y a quand même des visiteurs, même si ce n'est pas grand chose comparé au grand canyon.
Je fais un saut au Quebec fin mai et je me demande s'il est judicieux que je lise avant "comment j'ai (pas trop) aimé le Canada" !
En fait je ne parlais que de la partie ouest, je ne suis jamais allé au Québec. Et puis il y a pleine d'endroits que j'ai aimé, c'était un titre un peu provoc (et ça a marché😉)
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Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Départ matinal, comme d'hab. Avant la sortie du parc, je roule au ralenti en croisant plusieurs groupes de wapitis et autres bêtes à cornes. Puis quelques photos du mythique rocher à la lumière du levant.
Commence ensuite la longue remontée de l'Interstate 90. Je passe à proximité du village de Saddlestring. Pour ceux qui connaissent, c'est là que se déroulent la plupart des romans de CJ Box dont je suis fan. Je suis tenté de faire un détour pour découvrir cette petite bourgade isolée perdue au milieu des Bighorm mountains, mais je renonce car cela risquerait d'être assez chronophage et je ne tiens pas à passer ma journée au volant.
Je m'arrête prendre un café à Burgless junction, dans un gros chalet hôtel isolé. De là, la route 14 se sépare en deux branches, la nord et la sud. L'une comme l'autre mènent à Cody, capitale du rodéo, où j'ai prévu de faire étape. Je demande conseil au bar et on m'envoie sur la branche sud, moins tortueuse et plus rapide.
La route est belle et la traversée des Bighorns s'avère spectaculaire. J'arrive à Cody en début d'après-midi. Je commence par me renseigner sur le rodéo du jour. Ici, il y en a un tous les soirs pendant l'été et, comme je n'ai encore jamais assisté à ce type de spectacle malgré mes nombreux voyages dans l'ouest, pas question de laisser passer l'occasion !
En attendant la soirée, je vais réserver une place de camping au Buffalo Bill state park, quelques miles à l'ouest de la ville. Là encore, le cadre est sympa et le camping ne coûte rien.
Je passe la fin de l'après-midi à arpenter la ville qui est très agréable. L'ouest comme on se l’imagine ! J'essaye de me trouver un chapeau car j'ai perdu le mien lors de l'enregistrement à Roissy. Pas moyen d’en trouver un qui convienne à ma tête…
J'arrive assez tôt au Stampede Park ou se déroule chaque soir d’été le fameux « Cody Nite rodéo ». Cela me permet de m'installer tout près des paddocks pour profiter de la préparation des chevaux et des cow-boys.
Certains aspects du show sont d'une brutalité inouïe. A côtés, les combats de MMA (mixed martial arts) semblent taillés pour les fillettes. Je vois au moins deux types se faire démantibuler l'épaule par des taureaux furieux. Certaines disciplines comme le barrel-racing, pratiqué par les femmes, alliant vitesse et dextérité, sont davantage à mon goût.
Ça dure deux bonnes heures. Pas sûr que je revienne. Une case est cochée sur ma wish-list.
27 août 2018 : de Cody à Yellowstone.
La nuit est encore là quand je décolle du camping. Il y a moins de 50 miles jusqu'à l'entrée est de Yellowstone. Après 2008, ce sera mon second passage dans ce national park, le plus ancien du monde et l'un des plus vastes. La superficie de la Corse pour être précis.
Le ciel est bas et plus je m'approche, plus la pluie s'intensifie. Je demande à la Ranger de la guérite d'entrée si cela va durer toute la journée et elle me le confirme d'un air navré.
Le chemin jusqu'à Canyon village où j'ai réservé la première nuit est chaotique. Des trombes d'eau s'abattent sur la route et il faut éviter quelques rochers tombés sur la chaussée.
Sans parler des groupes de bisons ou de wapitis qui peuvent surgir de n'importe où.
Pourtant, la pluie s'est arrêtée lorsque je prends mon emplacement au camping du Canyon. Je me balade un peu sur le rive du canyon qui m'avait littéralement ébloui en 2008. J'ai prévu d'y passer davantage de temps le lendemain matin, quand la lumière y sera plus avenante. Tout de même, quelle splendeur ! Et à ceux qui se demandent pourquoi le lieu se nomme Yellowstone", vous avez la réponse.
Je file vers l'ouest et au sud sur la route périphérique. Première étape à Biscuit basin. Les couleurs, les odeurs, la magie opère toujours malgré le manque de lumière et les files de chinois.
Ma seconde étape va durer davantage. Le reste de la journée, en fait. L'Upper Geyser basin offre la plus large concentration de sources, fumerolles, marmites et geysers du parc. Comme il est près de 13h00, je m'offre un excellent déjeuner au sublime « Old faithfull inn », même si je n'ai pas prévu d'y dormir comme en 2008.
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Je passe l'après-midi à circuler sur les passerelles de bois, au milieu des curiosités géothermiques dont regorge le site.
Le ciel qui menace constamment mais reste sec agrémente tout cela d'une dramaturgie spectaculaire. Terre de feu et ciel de foudre. Je remarque que des couleurs d'automne commencent à apparaitre sur les prairies. Il fait largement plus froid que lors de mon passage précédent. Les dégagements de fumée sortant des sources chaudes s'en trouvent épaissis.
Last but not least : « Morning Glory pool ��. Il paraît que les couleurs se sont affadies depuis que des crétins y ont balancés des trucs. Qu'est-ce que ce serait, sinon ?
Retour à Canyon village. Douche rapide au camping, puis je file directement au supermarché pour manger à la cafétéria. En même temps que la nuit, une neige épaisse se met à tomber. Le 27 août ! Du coup, je prends mon temps. Et je me félicite d'avoir choisi de dormir dans la voiture plutôt que sous la tente.
On annonce une belle journée demain. Je demande à voir...
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Cool de retourner à Yellowstone ! J'y retournerai aussi, c'est sûr !
Par contre, je viens de m'apercevoir que tu n'vais même pas fait de stop au Mont Rushmore... Pas envie ?
Après l'Ecosse retour aux States, toujours avec de splendides photos!
Nous sommes allés aux badlands mais nous ne sommes pas restés pour le coucher du soleil car nous avions de la route à faire et c'est vrai que c'est magnifique, mais maintenant je sais que tes photos prises au lever ou au coucher du soleil magnifient les sites! 😏 Il faudra que je m'en méfie quand j'irai visiter des endroits que j'aurai d'abord vus sur tes photos.🤪
Nous sommes aussi allés assister à un rodéo au stampède de Cody. Je n'ai pas accroché non plus.
Comme tu dis, au moins , c'est fait.
C'est bizarre, devil's tower à côté duquel nous sommes passés ne m'a pas impressionné.... Deviendrais-je difficile?🤪
Par contre, le must c'est Yellowstone et tous ses paysages splendides. Quand les geysers jaillissent c'est grandiose. Avoir droit à des chutes de neige le 27 aout: waouh!!!
Nous avions visité le mount Rushmore et avions assisté à un concert d'orchestre symphonique d'étudiants. C'était vachement sympa.
Les vieilles voitures américaines aussi m'attirent beaucoup et j'ai des collections de photos de ces vieilles américaines. J'ai aussi été admirative des Harley et autres motos car par le plus grand des hasards nous y étions au moment du Sturgis motocycle rally. C'est un grand moment de rencontre de jolis bikes, bien bichonnées.😄
J'essaye de me trouver un chapeau car j'ai perdu le mien lors de l'enregistrement à Roissy. Pas moyen d’en trouver un qui convienne à ma tête
C'est peut-être parce que tu as pris la grosse tête à cause des multiples compliments sur VF.😏😏 Swimmer a été inspiré d'être parcimonieux!😏
Par contre, je viens de m'apercevoir que tu n'vais même pas fait de stop au Mont Rushmore... Pas envie ?
Pas le temps, en fait. Le début de mon trajet était un peu trop serré et comme les campings de Yellow étaient réservés, je ne pouvais pas faire autrement.
En fait, je viens de me souvenir grâce à ton message que j'avais fait un petit crochet vers Rushmore (le village) sur le chemin de Custer Park (18 mois après, on oublie des trucs) , mais je me suis aperçu que ça allait me prendre trop de temps, donc j'ai renoncé. Bon, en même temps, ça ne faisait pas partie de mon projet initial. Pas vraiment envie à la base, malgré les souvenirs de "La Mort aux trousses".
A+
Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Après l'Ecosse retour aux States, toujours avec de splendides photos!
Avant une retour en Ecosse qui ne saurait tarder!
Il faudra que je m'en méfie quand j'irai visiter des endroits que j'aurai d'abord vus sur tes photos.
La "golden hour", c'est le moment sacré des photographes de paysage.
C'est bizarre, devil's tower à côté duquel nous sommes passés ne m'a pas impressionné....
Non, pas forcément, ça ne m'a pas non plus impressionné. Moins que bien d'autres sites en tout cas. Mais le lieu est tout de même très agréable. Et le film a construit le mythe.
C'est peut-être parce que tu as pris la grosse tête à cause des multiples compliments sur VF.
En fait, ils étaient tous trop grands 😉 ! Donc les compliments peuvent continuer, pas de problème !
A bientôt, en espérant te faire découvrir de nouveaux sites avec les prochaines livraisons.
Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
A bientôt, en espérant te faire découvrir de nouveaux sites avec les prochaines livraisons.
Bah, même si ce n'est pas le cas, découvrir ces paysages à travers ton œil de photographe est déjà une découverte en soie!!
Mon programme pour mon prochain séjour est déjà chargé, donc ....
La "golden hour", c'est le moment sacré des photographes de paysage.
Le problème des golden hours, c'est qu'il n'y en a pas beaucoup dans la journée. 😮 Et surtout, c'est assez tard le soir en été quand on a encore de la route à faire.
Lors de notre passage dans les badlands, nous y étions en aout. Mais c'était une exception, qui nous a permis de retourner à Yellowstone.
Mais, je préfère nettement l'ouest américain en hiver.😏
Avant un retour en Ecosse qui ne saurait tarder!
OHHHH!!!!! Encore de belles photos en perspective!!!😉
Encore un superbe chapitre!! Toujours très bien écrit, avec des anecdotes et des références de toute sorte, vraiment sympa! Et quelles photos (mais je connais ton talent de photographe, et j'ai eu la chance d'admirer tes photos sur grand écran 😉)!
J'ai essayé de voir sur mon site si, en une dizaine d'années, les pools avaient changé à Biscuit et Upper Basin. Mais on n'a pas dû photographier les mêmes, ou alors elles sont méconnaissables.
Tu me demandais, pour l'Alaska... Des contraintes familiales (ma mère a 94 ans...) nous ont empêchés de préparer quoi que ce soit. Mais ce n'est pas abandonné, loin de là!
A bientôt du côté de... laisse-moi deviner... West Thumb? 😉
Pascale
Oui, j'aime bien les références et les anecdotes. C'est ce qui reste finalement lorsqu'on rédige le récit plus d'un an après le retour.
J'ai essayé de voir sur mon site si, en une dizaine d'années, les pools avaient changé à Biscuit et Upper Basin. Mais on n'a pas dû photographier les mêmes, ou alors elles sont méconnaissables
Tiens, c'est une bonne idée, je vais faire pareil et aller voir sur "carnetsd'amériquesetd'ailleurs"
Je n'avais pas visité Biscuit en 2008, je n'ai pas de point de comparaison.
A bientôt du côté de... laisse-moi deviner... West Thumb?
Oui, mais pas que ! Et avec du soleil pour changer.
@+
Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Réveil glacial. Si la neige n'est pas restée dans la plaine, elle s'est incrustée au sommet des collines alentours. Mais le ciel est dégagé et le soleil apparaît déjà. Les prévisions étaient justes.
Je commence par avaler un rapide petit déjeuner à base de café et de muffins (aux myrtilles, toujours !). Puis je me dirige vers la rive sud du canyon. J'avais été ébloui par cet endroit lors de ma visite de 2008.
J'ai prévu de faire la ballade allant de « Artist point » à « Point Sublime ». On n'y croise rarement du monde, les touristes se limitant au point de vue sur les chutes.
C'est aussi beau que dans mon souvenir. Une ballade parmi les plus magiques qu’on puisse faire. Les parois volcaniques du canyon explosent de couleurs sous le soleil de ce début de matinée. Les collines enneigées qui le surplombent ajoutent au charme du panorama par le contraste qu'elles apportent.
A peu près à mi-chemin de Point sublime, je croise un couple orné de clochettes (censées éloigner les ours). Nous engageons une (très) rapide conversation avant qu'ils ne tournent les talons pour retourner vers Artist point.
Eux : « Are you alone ? »
Moi : « Yes »
Eux : « Do you have bear spray ? »
Moi : « No »
Eux : « We'll pray »
Ces cons m'ont foutu la trouille !
Malgré cela, je poursuis ma route vers la mort certaine qu'ils m'ont promis tout en donnant régulièrement quelques coups de bâtons dans les souches et les rochers pour signaler ma présence aux éventuels prédateurs. Par bonheur, je n'en croiserai aucun.
Le soleil se cache et la lumières change. Je reviens à mon point de départ. Il est temps de quitter la région du Yellowstone canyon pour gagner le Midway geyser basin. C'est le fief du célèbre « Grand Prismatic », la plus large source d'eau chaude du parc.
Les lumières matinales font briller les prairies dorées du Wyoming et je dois me faire violence pour ne pas m'arrêter tous les 200 mètres. De temps en temps, je dois ralentir pour laisser le passage aux bisons. Quelle merveille, ce parc.
Je me gare et je prends le sentier qui mène au belvédère (sentier des Fairy falls). Cette fois, je ne suis pas tout seul. Les vues aériennes sur la source multicolore sont spectaculaires mais un peu gâchées par la température extérieure. En effet, il fait assez froid en ce moment et le contraste avec la chaleur de la source provoque d'imposantes colonnes de brume. On n'est jamais content !
La matinée s'est bien avancée et je roule vers le sud du parc pour prendre mon emplacement réservé à Grant Village. Sur le chemin, je visite la zone de Black Basin.
Puis, une fois passé le continental divide, celle de West Thumb dont l'originalité est de se situer au bord du Yellowstone lake. Les couleurs, les odeurs, tout y est.
Installation et repas à Grant Village. La terrasse du lodge offre une vue fantastique sur le lac et les sommets enneigés qui le bordent au sud-est.
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
En milieu d'après-midi, je repars vers le nord dans le but d'assister au coucher du soleil à Grand Fountain geyser. Sur le chemin, je me sens happé par l'envie d'arpenter les passerelles du Grand Prismatic.
Difficile de se garer. Les files de voitures échouées en bord de route s'étendent loin de part et d'autre du Midway geyser basin. Je finis par trouver un espace ou me glisser.
Le soleil de fin de journée fait resplendir les couleurs de la source géante. La promenade est courte mais d'une splendeur sans pareille. J'enchaine les clichés avec pour objectif d'assembler ensuite des panoramas. Quel régal pour les pupilles (sans parler des narines !)
Des plans plus serrés permettent également de mettre en valeur les textures incroyables qui tapissent le sol. Il y a dix ans, je n'avais pas eu l'occasion de visiter ce site à cette heure de la journée. Quelle erreur c'aurait été de passer sans s'arrêter !
Je décide ensuite de poursuivre la route vers Norris geyser basin qui se trouve davantage au nord. Je l'avais visité par temps gris et en matinée. Ce sera donc un point de vue différent.
Moins de monde ici, ce qui ne gâche rien... Je commence par parcourir le « Porcelain basin » aux couleurs pastel.
Puis je fais un rapide passage sur le Back Basin car le soleil continue à baisser et je tiens à être sur place pour le voir se coucher sur Grand Fountain geyser. Et finalement, je suis un peu déçu. La faute au manque de nuages (c'est un comble !).
Retour sur Grant village ou j'arrive juste à temps pour prendre une douche avant la fermeture. Après tous les kilomètres avalés dans la journée, ça fait du bien. Pas de neige ce soir.
29 août : de Yellowstone à Bonneville salt flats.
Je me lève plus tôt encore que la nuit précédente. Il faut dire qu'une longue route m’attend et que j'ai pour premier projet d'admirer le lever du soleil sur le Emma Mathilda lake, dans le Grand Teton national park qui se trouve juste après la sortie sud de Yellowstone.
La nuit aidant, je me trompe de chemin à mon départ de Grant Village. Je fais demi-tour après une vingtaine de minutes avant de m'apercevoir que je ne m'étais finalement pas trompé. Pas réveillé. Une bonne demi-heure dans les dents au final.
En longeant le Lewis Lake, à une quinzaine de kilomètres avant la sortie de Yellowstone, j'entraperçois des vues incroyables de beauté. Encore plongé dans une semi-obscurité, le lac est enchâssé dans une gangue de brume bleue surnaturelle. C'est à tomber par terre. Et comme un con, la tête encombrée par mon planning déjà foutu, je ne m'arrête pas. Un an et demi après, je ne décolère toujours pas.
Je m'accorde tout de même une courte pause près de ces montagnes embrumées, peu après la sortie du parc et le lever du jour. De toute façon, c'est déjà mort pour Mathilda Lake.
J'ai d’ailleurs un peu de mal à le trouver, celui-là. Manque de préparation. Ça m'arrive parfois... Et quand j'y parviens, c'est la déception. La brume cache intégralement les montagnes qui font tout le sel de ce point de vue. Ça valait bien la peine de snober le Lewis lake !
Du coup, je suis beaucoup moins pressé et je m'accorde un arrêt près de la vielle fermer mormonne.
Je prends mon petit déjeuner à Jackson Hole. Comme le disais justement un gars rencontré il y a longtemps lors d’une rando « Jackson, c’est Frontierland en vrai ! ». Un des romans de CJ Box se passe ici quand son héros, le garde chasse Joe Pickett, s'y retrouve muté. Si l'envie de découvrir l'envers du décors vous tente, allez y, vous ne le regretterez pas.
La section nord de mon périple est terminée, je vais maintenant filer au sud pour explorer des types de paysages très différents. Moins de vert, plus de rouge et d'ocre. Et peu de chance de revoir de la neige.
Une chose positive cependant : la première journée de type hivernal à Yellowstone semble avoir chassé le ruban de brume grise qui encombrait l'horizon depuis mon arrivée à Denver et que j'attribuais à tort aux incendies californiens.
Le reste de la journée se passe sur la route. Je me remémore certaines portions qui m'avaient marqué il y a dix ans, comme le tronçon de route qui va de Logan à Ogden. Un véritable toboggan d'au moins 15 miles. Et juste avant, le longement du Bear Lake aux eaux bleues électrique.
Passé Salt lake, je vire à l'ouest sur l'I80 qui longe le grand lac salé. On associe souvent l'endroit aux tentatives de records de vitesse sur roues mais ceux-ci se déroulent en fait 100 miles plus à l'est, sur les étendues blanches de Bonneville salt flats. C’est mon objectif.
C’est blanc, c’est plat et c’est chiant. Voilà pour ma première impression.
Mais avec le soleil qui descent vers l’horizon et la lumière qui s’adoucit, le lieu devient plus intéressant. Par contre, les fous de la vitesse qui l’investissent presque continuellement interdisent de s’y promener en toute liberté. Le ciel devenant plus intéressant, les photos s’améliorent d’autant. Pas mal de monde dans le coin, finalement
Je repars à la nuit tombante sous un ciel embrasé. Mon projet initial consistait à dormir sur place mais c’est manifestement interdit. Les panneaux sont clairs à l’entrée du site et il serait difficile de prétendre ne pas les avoir vus. Je gagne donc la ville voisine de West Wendover en espérant y trouver un petit motel.
Quelle surprise de découvrir ici une « ville casino », sorte de mini Vegas. C’est vrai qu’elle se situe juste après la frontière de l’Utah et du Nevada.
Deux énormes établissements, le Wendover Nugget et le Montego Bay resort, ouvrent la parade des lumières. Je me gare sur le parking du premier dont je tape le nom sur mon smartphone. Les chambres y sont presque données, comme souvent dans les casinos du Nevada. 50 dollars pour une pièce de 60 m2 et un King Bed de 2m sur 2, je prends.
Etrange atmosphère. L’endroit est presque désert et le personnel assez peu accueillant. Pas grave. Une bonne douche et un bon lit, c’est tout ce que je demande. J’ai de toute façon l’intention de repartir avant l’aube de façon à profiter du lever du jour sur le désert blanc.
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Ta première photo de ciel embrasé sur le Salt Flats de Bonneville est magnifique !!!
Sinon, lors de mon passage à Yellowstone, j'avais lu "Zone de tir libre" de CJ Box... J'avais adoré car on est vraiment dans l'ambiance du parc...
A+
En longeant le Lewis Lake, à une quinzaine de kilomètres avant la sortie de Yellowstone, j'entraperçois des vues incroyables de beauté. Encore plongé dans une semi-obscurité, le lac est enchâssé dans une gangue de brume bleue surnaturelle. C'est à tomber par terre. Et comme un con, la tête encombrée par mon planning déjà foutu, je ne m'arrête pas. Un an et demi après, je ne décolère toujours pas.
Quand ça veut pas, ça veut pas!!!🤪
C'est parfois dur de renoncer à ses projets initiaux!!! Apprendre à accepter, ce qu'on a....😄
Ah oui, ce roman part d'une histoire incroyable : une alliance perverse entre les lois pénales et le découpage du parc entre plusieurs états avait créé une zone très réduite ou vous pouviez commettre un meurtre pour lequel il était impossible d'être condamné, faute de pouvoir réunir assez de jurés pour la tenue d'un procès.
Pour les éventuels intéressés en voyage de noces : cette anomalie a depuis été corrigée😉.
A+
Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
C'est parfois dur de renoncer à ses projets initiaux!!! Apprendre à accepter, ce qu'on a....😄
Voilà de sages paroles que l'on devrait toujours avoir en tête 😄! Comme tu le découvrira dans ma prochaine livraison, ce premier exemple ne l'a pas suffit.
Tout ça me rappelle une citation du philosophe malgré lui Johnny Hallyday "la vie ne m'apprend rien, je refais encore et toujours les mêmes erreurs avec plaisir".
Tiens, tu as un carnet sur le Sud Lipez, faut que j'aille voir ça, c'est probablement ma prochaine destination.
A+
Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Je suis présent sur le désert blanc dès le lever du jour pour quelques photos. La lumière est belle mais pas mal de nuages bouchent l’horizon.
Il y a encore des courses de voiture au loin. Ma parole, ça n’arrête pas ! Je fais quelques pas dans le désert et je me retrouve pile sur le chemin des bolides. Je m’écarte par sécurité.
Un gros pick-up se pointe et entreprend de ramasser tous les piétons éparpillés pour les ramener sur le parking. Je me retrouve dans le coffre en compagnie de deux nanas et je renverse mon café. Retour au point de départ. Pas grave, je ne comptais pas m’attarder vu que j’ai une encore une grosse journée de route qui m’attend. Ne vous plaignez pas, je vous avais prévenus !
Quelque ultimes clichés avant de mettre les voiles.
Ça commence par un retour vers Salt Lake City avant de piquer au sud sur la I-15, puis vers l’est par la route 24. Je ne garde quasiment aucun souvenir de cette partie de la route, juste celui d’un ciel couvert sur la seconde partie.
L’objectif du jour est de passer la nuit à Moonscape overlook. C’est un point de vue original sur la 24, entre Caineville et Hanksville. Un endroit lunaire comme l’indique son nom. Je ne devrais, normalement, pas y croiser grand monde.
J’arrive suffisamment tôt dans la région pour m’autoriser une escapade sur le sentier des « Caineville badlands ». On peut difficilement manquer le repère qui en marque le démarrage.
Dans le genre amuse-gueule, celui-ci est assez coriace. Une fois passée la zone des ravines grises, le sentier s’envole littéralement sur un terrain presque aussi instable qu’une dune de sable. Il faut souvent s’aider avec les mains et les pauses photo offrent une bienheureuse occasion de souffler.
Ce n’est pas seulement plus dur, mais aussi plus long que je le pensais. Il faut dire que je ne me suis pas beaucoup renseigné sur cette ballade et que j’ignore complètement où mène ce sentier. Je sais juste que le point de vue sur les badlands y est spectaculaire. Ce qui est déjà le cas tout au long de l’ascension.
Débouchant finalement sur un plateau qui n’offre que peu de repères, je prends quelques clichés en me retournant, histoire de ne pas m’égarer au retour.
Arrivé au point de vue final sous un ciel toujours couvert. C’est sympa quand même.
Je porte la main à ma poche de chemise pour attraper mon téléphone et je constate… qu’il ne s’y trouve plus. Tout neuf, acheté il y a trois semaines. Il a dû tomber pendant la montée. Quelle idée aussi de le mettre dans une poche de chemise ! Je me dis, mais un peu tard, qu’on ne m’y reprendra plus.
Je prends le chemin du retour en tachant mettre mes pas là où je les avais posés à l’aller. Avec un peu de chance…
Je retombe sur le téléphone une cinquantaine de mètres plus loin à peine. Quel coup de bol qu’il soit tombé sur le plateau et pas dans la pente qu’il aurait certainement dévalée.
Détail amusant : je le découvrirais bien plus tard sur l’une des photos que j’avais prises pour me repérer sur le plateau.
La descente est plus rapide et le ciel s’éclaircit légèrement. De quoi espérer un peu de lumière dorée au coucher du soleil ? Croisons les doigts...
La piste menant à Moonscape overlook ne se trouve qu’à quelque miles. Aucun problème pour la trouver, pas davantage pour la parcourir. Du moins jusqu’à la bifurcation avec une seconde piste qui doit me mener jusqu’à l’à-pic.
Je me trompe d’embranchement et, pendant deux ou trois miles, j’emprunte sans m’en rendre compte une piste très étroite qui va dans la même direction mais qui se révèle beaucoup moins praticable. Pas de dégâts cependant, car je finis par retrouver le bon chemin. Pas un chat sur place, mais je m’y attendais et je l’espérais. Ce genre d’endroit se savoure toujours davantage dans une parfaite solitude.
Whoa ! Le point de vue est extrêmement impressionnant et très différent de ce que j’ai déjà pu voir par ici. On se croirait réellement sur la Lune, l’atmosphère en plus.
Une trouée dans les nuages à l’ouest permet au soleil d’habiller ce cadre somptueux d’une belle lumière rasante. Magnifique.
Je m’apprête à ranger mon réflex pour le reste de la soirée quand le ciel commence à s’embraser au sud, au-dessus des montages. Je rallume aussi sec mon canon et me précipite au bord de la rive. Ce sont ces ultimes petits moments inattendus qui font tout le sel d’un voyage comme celui-là.
Une salade au poulet en conserve, des fruits au sirop et un bon bouquin plaqué sur le volant, quelle belle fin de journée ! Hier soir dans le lit géant d’un méga casino, ce soir sur un matelas gonflable dans un coffre de voiture, les nuits se suivent et ne se ressemblent guère.
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
31 août – De Moonscape overlook à Paria movie set.
L’aube n’est pas non plus dénuée de grandeur, quand la texture duveteuse des collines grises se laisse doucement réveiller par la lumière du levant avant de virer à l’ocre pour une courte période.
En repartant, on aperçoit au loin la silhouette imposante de Factory butte.
Retour sur la route 24 en direction de Torrey. Je m’arrête prendre le petit déjeuner au Capitol Reef inn & café d’où je conserve quelques bons souvenirs avec mon groupe de 2009 (que je guiderai à NY dans quelques mois). La serveuse très sympa s’apprête à partir en vacances à Paris. J’en profite pour lui prodiguer quelques bons conseils.
La première partie de la célèbre route 12 qui conduit de Torrey à Bryce est rapidement avalée. Mon projet étant de parcourir la Cottonwood canyon road et de passer la fin d’après-midi sur Yellow rock, je passe chez les rangers de Cannonville afin de m’assurer de la praticabilité de la piste. Je suis assez confiant. J’ai tort. La piste est fermée pour cause d’inondations.
Caramba, encore raté !
Je ne compte plus mes tentatives infructueuses pour parcourir cette piste. J’ai donc prévu un plan B.
Je poursuis ma route jusqu’à croiser l’US 89, puis je file au sud jusqu’à Kanab, et vers l’est en direction de Page. Comptez deux bonnes heures au total.
Je m’arrête à la Paria Station pour me renseigner auprès des rangers locaux, des fois que la piste soit plus praticable de ce côté et me permette de gagner Yellow rock. Mais non. Et je ne suis pas du genre à prendre le moindre risque avec un véhicule de location. De plus, ma Hyundai Santa Fe n’est pas un franchisseur très performant. Alors on oublie.
Mais ça, c’était pas le plan B. C’était davantage le A bis. Le B, le seul viable à présent, c’est de me rapprocher au maximum de Yellow rock par la piste menant à Paria movie set.
La partie descendante de la piste ne pose aucun problème. La seconde partie, qui continue au nord dans la vallée en longeant les badlands, est plus délicate car il faut franchir quelques wash. Mais bon, pas de difficultés majeures. J’y croise également un groupe de promeneurs à cheval qui regagnent leurs camions et à qui je dois laisser le passage.
Un peu plus loin, je remarque un gros pick-up avec une remorque pour cheval garé sur une surface plane en bord de route.
Je vais aussi loin que possible dans la bonne direction et me gare finalement près d’un petit cimetière. Ce n‘est pas un vrai. Il a été construit, ainsi que quelques bâtiments aujourd’hui détruits, pour les besoins d’un film. Ce film, je l’ai découvert par hasard en reconnaissant les badlands sur mon écran de télé. C’est « Joseph Wales, hors la loi », un vieux Clint Eastwood, et l’un des meilleurs à mon avis.
Mon projet consiste à rejoindre la Cottonwod canyon road à pieds en suivant le lit de la Paria river vers le sud-est. Ce qui va s’avérer beaucoup plus long que je le pensais.
Je suis accompagné une partie du chemin par une dame âgée sur son cheval que je viens de croiser. Elle s’appelle Sandy et elle est venue du Missouri avec son camion et son cheval en remorque – celui que j’ai aperçu un peu plus tôt - pour se promener dans le wild. Peur de rien. Faut reconnaitre qu’on n’a pas beaucoup de mamies de ce calibre par chez nous…
Nous nous quittons alors que je remonte vers le nord en sortant du canyon. Continuer vers l’est pour rejoindre la piste me ferait perdre trop de temps. Alors je choisis de couper au travers pour la retrouver plus au nord.
La progression est difficile. Des petites collines faites d’une terre instable perturbent l’orientation et obligent à quelques détours. Là encore, c’est beaucoup plus long que prévu. Je commence à me dire que c’est probablement raté pour ce soir et que je suis parti un peu tard. Mais je m’obstine. Sans doute la frustration d’avoir toujours raté Yellow rock malgré plusieurs tentatives. Et la frustration est l’une des pires sources de motivation. Souvenez-vous de cela, jeunes padawans !
Je finis par rejoindre la piste et envisage sérieusement de rebrousser chemin devant ce qu’il reste à parcourir. C’est alors qu’apparait au loin un gros pick-up, le genre de véhicule qui permet de s’affranchir des avertissements des rangers. Surtout quand on connait parfaitement le terrain.
Et il va dans la bonne direction. « C’est un signe », que je me dis. Grossière erreur. Les signes n’existent que dans l’esprit de ceux qui veulent y croire.
Il s’agit d’un couple de locaux. Des trentenaires. Ils s’arrêtent et acceptent de m’emmener jusqu’à l’embranchement de la Brigham Plains road, l’endroit que se trouve le sentier qui mène à Yellow rock. Ce n’est pas très long. Moins de dix minutes plus tard, on y est déjà. Ils me proposent une bière à ma descente du pick-up. Je leur explique que c’est assez peu indiqué pour la rando sous le soleil et ils me filent à la place une bouteille d’eau bien fraiche.
A partir de là, il faut grimper le sentier qui mène au sommet du canyon. A condition de le trouver. Et c’est avec consternation que je m’aperçois que je n’ai pas pris les bons papiers !
Trop pressé de partir, j’ai enfourné dans ma poche le dossier de la randonnée voisine menant à Red Top. Et les points GPS du sentier qui permet de grimper le canyon à cet endroit ne s’y trouvent pas
Mais je m’obstine. Encore. Malgré la fatigue, malgré le soleil qui baisse.
La traversée de la zone de végétation serrée qui sépare la piste du bas de la pente est assez pénible. J’atteins le wash et me mets à la recherche d’un début de sentier mais pas moyen de mettre le pied dessus. Alors je me décide à grimper la paroi droit devant moi, au jugé. C’est terrible. Harassant, ultra raide, ultra glissant. On monte d’un pas, on descend de trois. Pas vraiment dangereux pour peu qu’on fasse gaffe et qu’on progresse lentement, mais bon, allez savoir…
Je finis par arriver en haut mais dans un état d’épuisement assez préoccupant. Je n’aperçois pas encore Yellow rock mais parvient à trouver un semblant de sentier qui semble mener dans la bonne direction. Un petit quart d’heure plus tard, j’aperçois la colline colorée, but de tous ces efforts. Elle me parait encore si loin même si ça n’est qu’une impression. Et là, je me dis que non. Que ce n’est pas possible de continuer car il reste le chemin du retour. Et que si j’ajoute le temps nécessaire à une exploration de l’endroit et aux photos qui vont avec, je n’ai aucune chance de rentrer avant la nuit.
Il y a toujours une journée comme celle-là au cours de laquelle on accumule les erreurs. Mais là, c’est un festival, un best off, c’est le concert du nouvel an… Alors finalement, à dix petites minutes de mon objectif, je choisis la seule option raisonnable et je fais piteusement demi-tour.
La redescente dans le Cottonwood wash est facilitée par le fait que j’emprunte maintenant le sentier « officiel ». Effectivement, c’est beaucoup plus facile comme ça, même si ça reste très raide.
Je reprends la Cottonwood road dans l’autre sens, sans pick-up providentiel cette fois. A peine une demi-heure plus tard, je retrouve l’endroit où j’étais remonté sur la piste et je m’engage à nouveau dans la pampa en espérant ne pas trop m’y égarer.
Très vite, je remarque des traces de sabots récents dans le sol de terre meuble. Ce sont certainement ceux du cheval de Nancy, la femme qui m’a accompagné au début de mon périple. Et ça, c’est un vrai coup de bol ! Je n’ai qu’à les suivre pour retourner le plus directement possible à l’entrée du canyon. Voilà qui va m’économiser pas mal de forces et de concentration.
C’est long mais je finis par déboucher devant la Paria river que je n’ai plus qu’à remonter pour retrouver mon véhicule et mon matelas. Seulement voilà, le soleil est couché depuis un bon moment et l’obscurité commence à s’installer. Quelques minutes à peine après mon entrée dans le canyon, il fait un noir d’encre et j’avance au jugé, à l’instinct, ce qui se complique à mesure que le canyon s’élargit et que les parois s’abaissent et s‘éloignent à la fois. Je me dis qu’il ne va pas être simple de distinguer la branche qui doit me ramener vers le cimetière. D’autant que dans la nuit, les pistes et les washs se ressemblent comme deux gouttes d’eau et que ma lampe frontale n’éclaire guère plus loin que le bout de mes pieds. Et que je me sens vraiment très fatigué. A un point tel que je suis obligé de m’arrêter pour vomir, ce qui me fait me sentir un peu mieux.
Je dois me rendre à l’évidence, je n’ai aucun point de repère et, à continuer d’avancer comme cela dans le noir, je risque de me perdre encore davantage. La seule solution est de ne plus bouger. Ce ne sera pas très agréable mais il y a pire que de devoir dormir sur le sable par une chaude nuit d’été.
C’est alors que j’aperçois des petites lumières rouges au loin, droit devant moi. Les phares arrière d’un véhicule. D’abord, je pense à une ronde des rangers. Je me dis qu’ils ont peut-être trouvé mon Santa Fe et qu’ils se demandent où je suis.
Je presse le pas pour les atteindre avant qu’ils ne s’éloignent. Pas la peine, le véhicule semble immobile.
J’arrive sur place et là, surprise ! Il s’agit de Sandy, la dame au cheval. Elle tentait de remonter la piste jusqu’à la route 89 et s’est engagée par erreur dans un wash qu’elle prenait pour une piste. Elle voudrait faire demi-tour mais la taille considérable de son attelage l’en empêche et elle se retrouve bloquée dans un carrefour étroit entre deux pistes et ce foutu wash.
Je lui propose mon aide pour la guider de l’extérieur car la manœuvre promet d’être compliquée. Et elle elle va effectivement l’être car nous allons mettre plus d’une heure et demie à essayer différentes façon de d’extraire le camion de ce piège avant d’y parvenir. Une heure et demie pendant laquelle j’oublie complètement ma fatigue. Cela fait, elle me décerne l’Award du bon samaritain, distinction que j’accepte bien volontiers.
Pour finir, vu l’heure avancée, elle décide de passer la nuit là où elle s’était précédemment garée. Puis elle m’indique le chemin à suivre pour regagner le cimetière qui ne se trouve qu’à trois ou quatre cent mètres de là. Je m’y dirige à la lumière de ma lampe frontale. Je retrouve enfin ma voiture. Puis je reviens me garer près du camion. Nancy qui a ressorti son cheval de la remorque me couvre de barres chocolatées et énergisantes.
Pour finir, je m’écroule sur mon matelas et m’endors comme une souche. Et voilà une journée plutôt intéressante qui s’achève.
Pour la petite histoire, j’ai finalement atteint Yellow rock l’année suivante en juillet 2019. Pour feinter le mauvais sort qui s’acharnait à m’empêcher de visiter ce lieu, j’y ai emmené un groupe d’amis. Ainsi noyé dans la masse, je suis passé inaperçu aux yeux du destin.
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Pas vilain ce dernier lot de photos, notamment les panoramiques !
Voila c'est dit, pas la peine de revenir dessus.😄
C'était pas très prudent ta petite virée en solitaire sous cette chaleur pour atteindre Yellow Rock ! 😮
Pas vraiment solitaire cela dit, heureusement que d'autres avaient priés pour toi quelques jours plus tôt pour mettre mamie gâteaux sur ta route 😏
L'obstination c'est parfois terrible, et abandonner si près du but c'est la voix de la sagesse.
En tout cas tes photos de moonscape overlook au coucher et au lever du soleil sont sublimes. C'est pas bien ça, tu viens de chambouler mon programme...🤪
Je viens de parcourir ton carnet, et, que dire, sinon, comme les autres, que tes photos des Badlands donnent envie d'y retourner. J'y étais un bon mois avant toi, et, si c'était à refaire, j'y resterais une nuit de plus. Que c'est dommage que ce parc soit si excentré des autres. Il n'est pas simple à inclure dans un circuit. Je ne regrette absolument pas de l'avoir planifié dans notre boucle. Nous avions eu un ciel un peu plus "dramatique", mais je ne suis pas allée au lever du soleil, (ni au coucher d'ailleurs), ce que je regrette vivement en voyant les couleurs que tu as pu observer. Les Yellow mounds sont magnifiques!
La brume dont tu parles a gâché certains endroits aussi que nous avons visités cet été là, en fin de parcours surtout. Plusieurs personnes m'avaient dit que c'était sans doute dû aux incendies.
Yellowstone reste magique… on ne s'en lasse pas. Quelles magnifiques couleurs du canyon! Pour le reste, je ne connais pas (juste quelques lieux de passage, comme le Capitol Reef inn & café). Yellow Rock me tente, mais plus je lis vos aventures pour y arriver, plus j'hésite.
C'était pas très prudent ta petite virée en solitaire sous cette chaleur pour atteindre Yellow Rock !
Oh, j'en ai fait d'autres des comme ça. 😉 Le problème, c'est surtout qu'il était trop tard. J'aurais du attendre le lendemain et partir à l'aube, ça se serait beaucoup mieux passé.
@+
Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
abandonner si près du but c'est la voix de la sagesse
Sagesse un peu tardive, mais mieux vaut tard que jamais 🤪!
C'est pas bien ça, tu viens de chambouler mon programme.
Rassures toi, c'est pas un gros détour et la piste est ultra facile. Par contre, sunset obligatoire car le site doit être beaucoup moins attrayant en milieu de journée, écrasé par le soleil de midi.
Et sinon tu connais angel point?
Non, mais je vais jeter un œil. Merci de l'info. Même si je compte découvrir d'autres régions du monde dans quelques années à venir (en même temps, je dis toujours ça et...)
A+
Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
si c'était à refaire, j'y resterais une nuit de plus. Que c'est dommage que ce parc soit si excentré des autres. Il n'est pas simple à inclure dans un circuit. Je ne regrette absolument pas de l'avoir planifié dans notre boucle
Tout pareil.
je ne suis pas allée au lever du soleil, (ni au coucher d'ailleurs), ce que je regrette vivement en voyant les couleurs que tu as pu observer
Eh oui. Pour les yeux comme pour l'appareil photo, ce sont pour moi les meilleurs moment d'un voyage. 😇
La brume dont tu parles a gâché certains endroits aussi que nous avons visités cet été là, en fin
de parcours surtout. Plusieurs personnes m'avaient dit que c'était sans doute dû aux incendies.
Ce qui m'a étonné, c'est que ces brumes disparaissent d'un jour à l'autre. Donc, j'ai des doutes sur le responsabilité des incendies.
Yellow Rock me tente, mais plus je lis vos aventures pour y arriver, plus j'hésite.
Faut pas. Mon problème est que je pars souvent fin août et, qu'à cette période, les orages d'été ont rendu la piste impraticable. En 2019, j'y suis allé en juillet sans aucun problème sinon la chaleur.
A+
Patrice
"Faut pas trop tenter le diable, cet enfoiré ne reste jamais très longtemps sans réagir..." Johnny Dakota (le vrai)
Hello Patrice
La zone autour de Hanksville est vraiment magnifique !!!
J'y étais allé en 2013 mais n'avais pas eu le temps de tout découvrir. Ce sera au programme de mon voyage 2021 !
Pour Yellow Rock, je l'avais loupé en 2015 à cause de la météo... Là, c'est au programme de mon voyage 2020 !
A+ pour la suite !
Franck
Tes photos de Mooscape Overlook sont vraiment magnifiques, j'apprécie d'autant que je n'y suis pas encore allé.
Pour North Caineville Mesa, ce n'est pas vraiment une rando tranquille à conseiller à tous, il s'agit plus d'un crapahutage, bien casse gueule par endroit(s). Yves (mycoVtt) l'a faite aussi, un autre très bon photographe 😉. Lors de notre voyage de 2017, cela a été un de nos coups de cœur. Même si un charmant rattlesnake nous a empêché d'atteindre la toute fin. Les vues sont sublimes, ambiance lunaire. Hanksville est un coin que nous apprécions particulièrement....
Sacrée aventure à Yellow rock. Sacré souvenir que tu garderas longtemps probablement. On avait eu de la chance avec la piste (qui n'est pas la plus belle du coin) mais moins avec les bestioles volantes qui avaient contrarié notre apéro au sommet. Juin est mieux pour les orages mais c'est la pleine saison pour les fly deer, une vraie saloperie, ces taons !
Eté 2018. Le Montana, cette année, ne sera qu’une étape. Prometteuse certes, mais une simple étape dans un circuit qui pour une fois ne nous mènera pas dans…
21 juin Encore en vadrouille??? Le monde n’est pas logique... L’addiction aux jeux est une maladie. Pas la peine de revenir là-dessus, ça a été prouvé…
Alors je mets en pratique une idée que j'ai eu voici deux ans... j'invite tous ceux qui le veulent à construire ensemble un bel objet participatif, un carnet…
Cinq ans déjà ont passé depuis notre dernière boucle à partir de Salt Lake City, pendant lesquels nous avons effectué trois voyages en Argentine et au Chili.…
9 bretons aux USA du 24 juin au 20 juillet 2018: Verdure et moustiques au nord, chaleur et orages au sud... Du choix du voyage: A notre retour des USA en 2014…
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!
After as many weeks as I have fingers on my right hand, we're hitting the road again, fully recovered from our pharaonic adventure. Back in France to drop off our daughters (sorry, girls!), this time it's just the two of us, ready to be welcomed by a new destination. They say it offers one of the richest cultural heritages in the world for those willing to put in the effort. It's the land of the ancient Silk Road, where we'll follow a journey steeped in history and discoveries straight out of *One Thousand and One Nights*. A former Soviet bloc region independent only since 1991, we'll be walking in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Alexander the Great, Marco Polo...
Another fun fact about this country: it's strictly forbidden to import porn on your phone. True story. The same goes for painkillers! Unless it's about sodomy—though the two don’t seem connected, that’s just how it is. Don’t ask me why! Anyway, I’m getting off track. Here’s the big question: Where do you think we’ve just landed?... To give you a hint, the locals are known for being incredibly welcoming. No sooner said than done—our first taxi driver, proud to transport French travelers, refused to let us pay for the ride. Great vibes for these two weeks ahead. So, any guesses?
Uzbekistan!!!
"So, 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...
"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.
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!
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
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while.
When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing.
The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo.
But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip.
And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.
So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays:
- 3 nights in St Lucia
- 1 night in Hluhluwe
- 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini)
- 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini)
- 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti)
- 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve
- 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie
All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.
I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).
To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.
Hi everyone, 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.
Here we go!!!
I left home at 4 AM on October 31st and headed to Barcelona. Driving through Barcelona on the ring road stresses me out a bit, but at 6 AM the traffic is smooth, and I arrive at the airport without any issues. I call the valet, who quickly comes to pick up my car. He takes photos of it from all angles before letting me go.
Baggage check-in hasn’t started yet, and there are already several of us waiting.
Once free, everything happens very quickly. The flight to Abu Dhabi is on time and goes smoothly. I’ve never had any problems with this airline, which I’ve been using for several years.
The flight to Bangkok arrives at 7 AM as scheduled. This is my first time in Thailand and Bangkok. I’m used to traveling in India, and I notice that everything here is well organized—the customs process is quick, and the luggage is already on the carousel.
I booked a taxi on Booking. All I have to do is find the right exit and door based on the agency’s instructions. A large sign with the names of people who booked is posted on a wall. A hostess greets me and calls the taxi, which arrives 5 minutes later. I booked one night at the Lost Inn BKK hotel in the Phra Nakhon district, and we arrive at 9 AM. The welcome isn’t warm, and I have to wait until noon, sitting on a chair, before I can check into my room. I’m exhausted, and sleeping sitting up isn’t ideal. Noon finally arrives—the room is small but clean, which is fine for one night. I quickly take a shower to wake up because I plan to spend the afternoon visiting the Grand Palace. First, I need to exchange some money, and the banks are all close together on the same street, which is very convenient. When I enter one, a hostess gives me a ticket and invites me to sit down. There are about twenty counters, and I wait quietly until my number is called. The exchange is quick, so I can head out to find the Royal Palace. It’s actually very easy, and the walk is pleasant.
Entry to the Royal Palace (500 baht).
It’s magnificent and grand, and there are quite a few of us visiting. The sky is gray, it’s very humid, and a shower interrupts the visit. It’s a vast complex of temples and palaces. The buildings are colorful and sparkling, with a great sense of serenity (without the tourists, of course). I quietly enjoy the place and try to take photos without tourists, which isn’t easy.
Very close to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, one of the oldest Buddhist temples in the capital.
It’s very famous for its 46-meter-long reclining Buddha statue.
Walking around the temple, you can see different representations of Buddha, all covered in gold leaf.
Inside the temple, on one side, monks recite their prayers, while the other side is reserved for tourists who come to meditate in silence.
Before returning to the hotel, I have dinner at an Indian restaurant. I go to bed early because tomorrow’s wake-up call will be very early again.
Saturday, November 2nd
Wake-up at 4 AM, departure from the hotel at 4:30 AM. The taxi I booked via Booking is waiting for me and takes me to the airport. The trip is fairly quick—he takes small roads, and at this hour, there’s no traffic.
The flight to Phnom Penh is on time. Before boarding, I realize I left my fleece jacket on the carousel, but it’s too late to go back for it.
The flight goes well, and customs is quick.
At the exit, I take a tuk-tuk to Julieka’s GH near the museum. The welcome is friendly. I won’t be able to check into my room until noon, so I take the opportunity to exchange some euros on the market street. The street is lined with restaurants, and I’ll have my first meal there.
The museum is right across the street, so I don’t waste any time visiting it.
The representations of Hindu deities are very different from those in India, and I don’t recognize them. Many beautiful Buddhas are on display.
The museum is very pleasant, and there aren’t too many people, which is a plus.
At the exit, I return to the GH, settle into my room—which is decent and clean.
The Royal Palace is 1 km away. I walk along a garden, and at the end of the street is the Tonlé Sap, but I turn right. I arrive at a large esplanade and see the buildings with tiered roofs and glazed tiles. The entrance to the palace is a little further away.
At the entrance, I notice there isn’t the same crowd as at the one in BKK.
Khmer architecture is magnificent. The complex consists of gardens, palaces, pagodas with golden roofs, and slender spires.
The Silver Pagoda houses the small Emerald Buddha, which is actually made of jade. The silver flooring is covered with carpets. Photos are not allowed.
The walls surrounding the pagoda are covered with frescoes depicting scenes from the Ramayana.
My partner and I traveled from Sunday, July 5, 2026, to Wednesday, July 22, 2026.
We spent a long time debating whether to rent a car or use public transportation. In the end, after reading so many posts about travelers getting scammed by police or rental companies—even those recommended by blogs and reviews—we decided to stick with public transport. It worked out really well. Sure, we had a little less freedom to go where we wanted, but it was way less stressful for us.
Sunday, July 5:
Arrived at Cancun Airport. Withdrew cash from the ATM in the terminal just before exiting. The ADO bus counter (they pronounce it "A-Jee-O") is right behind you when you're facing the ATM. Bus to downtown Cancun cost 145 pesos per person.
Stayed at "Rose 5," booked on Booking. The studio was super clean and perfect for one night. The owner’s instructions for accessing the place were very precise, with photos included. Check-in was self-service with a code. The ADO bus terminal isn’t far, and there are shops and restaurants nearby. We really appreciated that the AC was already on when we arrived. By the way, I’d recommend always booking places with AC—it’s *really* hot in Mexico.
Monday, July 6:
Bought a SIM card with data from a TELCEL store. My partner, who’s on Free Mobile, was able to use her regular plan. Just so you know, I found the network pretty unstable. As soon as we left the cities, neither of us—me with TELCEL or her with Free—had any signal.
Another thing to watch out for: roaming charges. I had to turn my SIM back on for less than 30 seconds to get a bank SMS code, and my phone apparently connected to the internet—resulting in an 8-euro roaming fee.
Left on an ADO bus to Chiquila for 278 pesos per person. During our trip, ADO buses were always on time, comfortable, and clean. The AC is *cranked* though, so bring something to cover up with—it gets cold. Some routes were fully booked even in the low season, so try to reserve 1 or 2 days in advance either via the app (when it works) or at the counter.
When we arrived at the ADO terminal in Chiquila, the ferry company counters were right next to it. Ferries leave every 30 minutes, alternating between companies, so no need to book ahead. Just take whichever one is leaving next (330 pesos per person).
When we got to Holbox (pronounced "Hol-bosh"), we’d booked a place via Booking called "Casa de Nana." It was a huge studio with a fridge, cooking plate, and utensils. The best part? The *location*. It was 100 meters from the beach and 200 meters from a Chedraui supermarket. They provided bath towels and beach towels, and the AC worked perfectly. There’s a key box so you can leave your keys inside when you go out. The only downside was that no one was there to let us in when we arrived, so we had to wait a while. The Wi-Fi was good, which was lucky because during our 4-day stay in Holbox, the phone network *never* worked. According to locals, that’s pretty common in Holbox, along with water outages.
Luckily, I’d had the good idea to download an offline map, which helped us find our way back to the place more easily. You can walk there from the dock.
The restaurant next to our place (La Barracuda) was great if you like seafood—I’d recommend their octopus dishes.
Tuesday, July 7:
We did a kayak tour in Holbox’s mangroves at 6 AM. We were looking for a sunrise kayak tour with a French-speaking guide. That’s exactly what we got with "Kayaking Holbox," where Diego, the owner, speaks English and French. He was joined by Gustavo, another guide.
We’d booked for a group tour, but we were the only ones. Diego still went ahead with it instead of canceling due to lack of participants, so we got a private tour at the group rate—really professional of him. They showed us this amazing ecosystem for over 3 hours. We saw all kinds of birds: pink flamingos, pelicans, egrets, frigatebirds... rays, a horseshoe crab, and a little crocodile that was *so* well hidden. Diego and Gustavo have a real eye for spotting animals—I could’ve passed by the crocodile 100 times and never seen it, it blended in so well. Their explanations about the flora and fauna were super interesting. We also got a little break where we tasted mangoes and bananas that taste *nothing* like the ones in France. A real treat—those little Mexican yellow mangoes! I’d definitely recommend Diego and his agency for a French-language kayak tour (1000 pesos per person).
In the evening, we walked to Punta Coco to see the bioluminescence. No need for a guided tour—if you really don’t want to walk, you can take a taxi. At Punta Coco, you have to pass the beach bar/restaurant and then go left into a kind of inlet that forms a lagoon. You have to wiggle your feet or move your hands in the water to create movement, which makes the light appear. Just don’t expect the kind of photos you’ve seen online—they’re all edited! It’s fun to see, but you won’t be dazzled by the light...
Wednesday, July 8:
Whale shark tour with "My Holbox Tours." Why recommend this agency over others for swimming with whale sharks? Simply because Valérie surrounds herself with top professionals to make your experience unforgettable. We were with Captain Fernando, who does everything to position the boat perfectly and make your swim easier. In the water, we were with Humberto, who also goes above and beyond to make sure you have an incredible time. He doesn’t just "supervise" like some guides from other companies who leave you on your own. No, Humberto reads the whale shark’s trajectory and guides you—all you have to do is follow him. He really puts in the effort, even holding your hand to guide you through this quick but intense encounter. Humberto also films the moment and will offer to show you the videos and sell them to you. His footage is really high quality.
Fernando and Humberto also prepared food for us. Special mention for their guacamole! Valérie is there to make sure everything goes smoothly on the boat and to answer your questions in French, English, or Spanish about these animals. If you choose My Holbox Tours, you can be sure you’ll get a top-notch experience.
About the tour itself: before you go, you should know that the sharks can be *really* far away. The day we went, it took 3.5 hours by boat to reach them. The boats are small, and let me tell you—on the way there, when we weren’t going with the waves, it was *rough*. Out of 9 passengers, 4 got seasick. But once you’re face-to-face with the shark, you forget all about that. Even if swimming with a whale shark isn’t exactly a walk in the park—they swim pretty fast, so you need some endurance to keep up. You’ll usually get 2 turns. Our first swim lasted a little over 4 minutes, and the second about 2 minutes because the shark was moving fast and we were still tired from the first swim. It might seem short, but when you’re swimming, it feels *long*. Either way, it’s an experience you *have* to do—but choose your company wisely. On the way back, there’s a stop at Cabo Catoche. Honestly, the snorkeling is pretty disappointing if you’ve done it elsewhere in the world. But the lunch stop at Cabo Catoche is really nice for relaxing (white sand and hammocks).
Thursday, July 9:
Short morning walk to Punta Mosquito at 6 AM. Really nice.
Ferry to Chiquila (330 pesos per person) + ADO bus to Valladolid (300 pesos per person).
In Valladolid, we booked "Casa Lucia" via Booking. The hotel is gorgeous, with a colonial style, and very close to the ADO bus terminal and downtown. It’s super quiet and clean. There’s a shared kitchen you can use with a fridge, microwave, and water dispenser, plus a big table by the pool and a nice indoor terrace. Breakfast was simple but included. The only small downsides were the tiny room and bathroom, no mirror in the room, and a noisy fan.
Friday, July 10:
Not far from the ADO bus terminal is the colectivo station for Chichen Itza. They offer a round-trip to Chichen Itza with an option to stop at Ik Kil cenote on the way back and then drop you off in Valladolid for 370 pesos per person (Ik Kil entrance included).
For the Chichen Itza visit, we’d booked a tour with a guide often mentioned in groups—his name is Juan Pat. He’s a Maya who lives near the site and speaks excellent French. He reserves spots in advance for you and queues up to be the first on-site. It cost 500 pesos per person + entrance fees. His tour lasts 2 hours and focuses mainly on the main pyramid and the ball court. He’s passionate and fascinating, even if some of his claims, as a Maya, might be a little biased. I think it’s *really* important to have a guide—otherwise, you’ll miss so much. You can contact Juan Pat on WhatsApp at +52 985 121 2381.
Afterward, we went to Ik Kil cenote (showers and life jackets mandatory, lockers available). It’s *very* crowded, but still really beautiful with its lush vegetation.
Saturday, July 11:
Since we didn’t have a car but still wanted to visit other cenotes that seemed hard to reach by public transport, we decided to book a taxi for the day. We agreed on 1200 pesos to take us to 3 different cenotes and wait for us at each one. (To find taxis, just look where they park near the ADO bus station.)
He picked us up at Zaci cenote, which we’d walked to. We got there at opening time and were the first ones there—had the place to ourselves for a while! 150 pesos per person. A pretty cenote in the city center with lush vegetation. It’s a bit like Ik Kil but without the deep cylindrical effect.
Cenote Xcanahaltun: the most beautiful cenote we visited. Entry 250 pesos per person. It’s a closed cenote with a hole that lets light in—a cave-like setting. You can kayak inside. There are little fish at the edge that nibble dead skin off your feet. Since it’s closed, the water is *freezing*!
Cenote Palomitas: entry 250 pesos per person. Another stunning closed cenote, even more enclosed than Xcanahaltun. The hole in the ceiling is smaller, so it was pretty dark when we arrived—kind of an eerie vibe. But when the staff turned on the lights, it looked like a "Gothic cathedral" full of bright stalactites.
Cenote Sac Aua: entry 290 pesos per person. The ticket includes a guided cave tour (tip-based). This cenote is really unique with its central island and way less crowded than Suytun. Just so you know, the water is *really* cold in cenotes. In these three, in July, we had the place to ourselves for a while and never saw more than 2 families at once—so peaceful!
Sunday, July 12:
ADO bus to Bacalar (536 pesos per person).
In Bacalar, we stayed via Airbnb with a host named Luli, who offers several rooms with shared bathroom and kitchen.
The room is nicely decorated in a pleasant setting. It’s ideally located near the lagoon and downtown. The shared kitchen is handy. The mosquito net over the bed is useful because there are *a lot* of mosquitoes in Bacalar. Luli provides a water jug, which is really nice. The only big downside is the lack of water pressure in the shower—we had to rinse off by filling a bucket. Also, there’s no real door separating the room from the bathroom. We never met Luli in person, but she was very responsive via messages. The terrace in the middle of the vegetation is lovely.
From the ADO terminal to the place, we took a taxi for 40 pesos. Since this driver was honest about the price (we’d checked beforehand), we decided to use him every time we needed a taxi in Bacalar. Here’s his WhatsApp: +52 983 184 3585.
Monday, July 13:
We did a boat tour on the lagoon with "Bacalar Francophone Activities." Since we were just the two of us, it cost 3500 pesos. If we’d managed to be 4 people, it would’ve been 1000 pesos per person.
We had a private 4-hour tour on the lagoon with Steeve and his very comfortable boat. He’s from Quebec, so his French is perfect. During those 4 hours, Steeve showed us the lagoon’s iconic spots *and* places other boats don’t go. He told us about the lagoon’s history and gave great tips on where to go and where to eat. As a little bonus, he gave us a video taken with his drone during our swimming break.
Tuesday, July 14:
We went to Los Rapidos by taxi (400 pesos round trip) and entry was 225 pesos per person. It’s *very* touristy but really beautiful. You can eat there (expensive), relax, and go down the "rapids" as many times as you want. It’s worth it if you spend a few hours there. You can’t bring in food or drinks—you leave them at the entrance and pick them up on the way out.
Wednesday, July 15:
On Wednesdays, navigation is banned on Bacalar Lagoon, so we’d planned another excursion.
Visit to Calakmul from Bacalar with ABCtours (WhatsApp +52 983 319 8359).
This agency organized a trip from Bacalar to Calakmul with a French-speaking guide. Communication beforehand via WhatsApp was smooth. Mr. Checo, the driver, and Fernando, the guide (who spoke great French), picked us up on the day. Mr. Checo drove very carefully on the long road and always made sure we were comfortable. Fernando is passionate about flora and fauna—he’s a biologist with a degree in ornithology, so he knows *everything* about animals. The slightest sound or song, and he knows what it is. He’s got an eye for spotting them, from the biggest to the smallest.
During the trip, we stopped at km 27 for a short forest walk, then went to see the two main pyramids on the site. On the way back, we stopped at the bat cave for the magical spectacle of millions of bats flying out at dusk. In the end, we saw or glimpsed (some briefly) spider monkeys, howler monkeys, a toucan, 2 tapirs, turkeys, 2 deer, and lots of birds. If, like us, you’re more into flora and fauna than archaeology, I’d *highly* recommend this agency and tour with Fernando.
It’s not cheap, but the road between Bacalar and the site is *long* (3.5 hours). Price: 3900 pesos per person for 2 (3500 for 3, 3200 for 4).
Thursday, July 16:
ADO bus to Playa del Carmen (614 pesos per person).
In Playa del Carmen, we stayed in an Airbnb. The building is on the town hall square, next to the casino.
The best thing about this place is the *location*—super close to Fifth Avenue (La Quinta). The kitchen is pretty basic, but the fridge works well. There are supermarkets nearby. The rooftop pool is really nice. The two big downsides, though, are the soundproofing (you can *hear* the neighbor’s alarm and all the events on the square) and the *total* lack of water pressure in the shower. We had to fill a trash can with water to pour over ourselves. When we told the owner, he said it wasn’t normal and someone would come fix it, but we never heard back. Based on previous reviews, this seems to be a known issue that never gets resolved.
Playa del Carmen is *very* touristy on Fifth Avenue, but in a fun, musical vibe—we never felt unsafe. There are *tons* of little souvenir shops for tourists on this street. There’s a beautiful monumental sculpture on the beach (the two figures meeting in the air), next to which you can see the Voladores show (men climbing a pole, tying themselves with ropes, and descending headfirst while "flying" around the pole). The show is tip-based and happens several times a day. In our opinion, Calle 38 is prettier than Fifth Avenue—it’s lush, green, and quieter, with the sea at the end. Great for an early evening stroll. We had really good meals at great prices at "El Tio Noy" tacos, just a few meters from Fifth Avenue in a side street.
For souvenirs, we’d recommend going to Walmart instead of Fifth Avenue—you’ll find skulls, tequila, mezcal, keychains, mugs, glasses... at good, fixed prices.
Friday, July 17:
We did the excursion to Isla Contoy. Isla Contoy is an uninhabited, highly protected island. Only 200 people are allowed to land per day on a rotating basis, so only a few companies have permission to dock there. Most agencies subcontract the day to a third-party company.
We booked through VRM (Viviendo Riviera Maya), but it was Ocean Tours Mexico that handled the tour. Contoy is a little paradise. We were accompanied by multilingual guides, including French speakers, throughout the day. Steffy gave us info about the island during a short walk on the marked trails, and Leño Tlatemoa kept the mood up on the boat rides with music and dancing. Isla Contoy is *truly* stunning, and the lunch was delicious: grilled fish and chicken, guacamole and tortilla chips, rice, fruit, drinks (everything is brought and taken back by the guides). The snorkeling part was pretty disappointing if you’ve done it in Cozumel, though. The stop at Isla Mujeres isn’t very interesting either—it’s too short to explore, and the island is *extremely* touristy. Still, the excursion was very well organized, and we had a great day (2970 pesos per person).
Saturday, July 18:
We wanted to go snorkeling in Cozumel but thought the prices from French-speaking agencies were too high. Plus, for snorkeling, we figured we didn’t *need* a French-speaking guide.
So we found a much cheaper solution by taking the ferry from Playa del Carmen ourselves and choosing an agency in Playa. The round-trip ferry cost 663.50 pesos per person. Then we took a taxi to the snorkeling boat (100 pesos). The agency we chose is called Mystic Snorkel—they don’t have a physical office. The tour cost 1400 pesos per person. It was a small boat, but that day we were the only ones, so we got a private tour at the group rate. We stopped at 4 different sites, all very different and beautiful. We saw all kinds of fish, corals, a nurse shark, and turtles. El Cielo, with its huge starfish, is *exceptional*. If you’re going snorkeling in the Yucatan Peninsula, this is *the* tour to do—the other sites are pretty "poor" in comparison.
Sunday, July 19:
Morning dive with Triton Diving. I chose the Cozumel dive option. Great experience.
Booking via WhatsApp was easy. On the day of the dive, Selene, who speaks French, was our guide. She’s *very* attentive to the group’s safety. The briefings are clear and precise. In Cozumel, we did 2 very different sites: the first was a drift dive with lots of life—beautiful corals and fish. The second was a wreck, the C53, a 56-meter boat you can enter. Not much marine life, but a beautiful wreck intentionally sunk for divers—still in great condition. An unforgettable moment. Selene even took videos during the dive, which the club sends you for free afterward. I’d *highly* recommend this club.
Just so you know, in Playa del Carmen, the beaches were full of sargassum during our stay, despite barriers and daily cleanup. Locals told us the problem is getting worse and the sargassum is arriving earlier in the season. Tourism has taken a *big* hit this summer, and they’re wondering if tourism can even survive the sargassum season anymore. A lot of tourists are heading to the islands—Isla Mujeres and Cozumel—to enjoy the beaches, as the west side of those islands is sargassum-free.
Monday, July 20:
Colectivo to Puerto Morelos. First, a colectivo toward Cancun that drops you off between Puerto Morelos town and Puerto Morelos beach (40 pesos per person), then another from that junction to the beach (10 pesos per person).
In Puerto Morelos, we’d booked a room via Airbnb at "Piedra del Caribe." *Best* place we stayed in Mexico. It’s an aparthotel. Our room was ready before check-in, so they let us in early. The place matched the description—spacious, with a comfortable king-size bed. The shower had *great* pressure, which isn’t a given in Mexico. The staff was super friendly and welcoming. They let us use the pool, restrooms, and rooftop shower after check-out while we waited for our ride to Cancun Airport. They even kept our luggage. I *highly* recommend this place.
In Puerto Morelos, there was *way* less sargassum than in Playa del Carmen—it was actually swimmable.
We did the snorkeling tour with the fishermen’s cooperative for 450 pesos per person for 2 hours. The reef is close to the beach (you’re not allowed to swim there), so the boat ride is short. It’s not as pretty as Cozumel, but it’s nice and affordable. On Puerto Morelos’s page, you can also access a small, not-very-well-preserved reef. There’s also a cenote in the sea where fresh water mixes with saltwater—the water is murky there. We had a great dinner and excellent cocktails at "La Choza del Puerto."
Tuesday, July 21:
Wandered around Puerto Morelos (check out the church and read everything—it’s entertaining!), relaxed by the hotel pool, and left for Cancun Airport by taxi (400 pesos) booked via InDrive to head back to France.
Our highlights:
- Holbox
- The whale shark tour
- The cenotes
- The local flora and fauna (so present!)
- Isla Contoy
- Cabo Catoche (except for the snorkeling)
What we liked least:
- The bioluminescence (barely visible despite good conditions)
- The food—we found it not very diverse in taquerias
- The constant tipping
- The lack of water pressure in showers (fixed, wall-mounted, no hose or showerhead)
Don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions while it’s still fresh in our minds.
Traveling with just one spare pair of underwear, considering a hot shower a miracle, never staying in the same place too long by sleeping wherever night catches us, taking whatever local, improbable, and rickety transport we can find—this is the DNA of us wanderers. Except this time, the script for our movie is going to be a whole different genre. On paper, the destination doesn’t exactly scream epic adventure: Réunion! And what’s more... we won’t be two, or four, or even ten. We’ll be a solid thirty. All from the same family. Yes, thirty. At this point, it’s not just a trip—it’s a summer camp on the move! Why inflict this on such a peaceful island? Because my brother decided to get married there with his lovely bride. A great idea, you might say... especially when it involves relocating the equivalent of a small Ardennes village 10,000 kilometers from home for three weeks! So who’s stepping up to be the guide and wave the little flag?
So, for an exceptional trip, exceptional stories! Don’t worry, the debates at the supermarket over whether to choose plain chips or roast chicken chips, the beach picnics washed down with ti’ punch, and other rougail sausages to digest by the pool will only make it into the family archives. Here, I’ll stick to the tales of our beautiful escapes, the ones where we explore the wild corners of this little volcanic rock planted in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So where exactly are we headed?
For the first week—the subject of this first installment—we’re taking it easy. We’ll start by rediscovering the coastline, from the Souffleur in Saint-Leu to the Hermitage lagoon, before a little trip to the Cirque de Cilaos and its legendary road with 400 turns, just to get our legs warmed up.
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...