Itinerary.

Almost the entire end of the trip (nearly until the return) will take place during a heatwave; it would feel like a heatwave in France, maybe not so much in California. I’ll experience it as someone who’s mostly traveled at high altitudes.
I leave fairly early, but not early enough, because when I arrive at "Yosemite Valley," I realize there’s no point counting on the parking lots scattered around the two villages. There are already lots of vehicles parked along the roads where it’s not explicitly forbidden. A car leaves a spot, and I take it immediately. Twenty minutes later, rangers posted at intersections are trying to direct visitors and regulate traffic. On this Sunday, the park is packed. Without the shuttle system in the valley that lets you move from one place to another, I think it would be total gridlock. Are Sundays during this time of year (snowmelt) peak days for crowds? I first visit "Yosemite Village" (Visitor Center, museum, exhibit, reconstructed Native American village). I continue on foot toward "Lower and Upper Yosemite Falls." "Upper Yosemite Fall" seen from the bottom of the valley, surrounded by its granite walls.

I don’t go right up to the waterfalls because I’ve chosen a different hike. So I take the shuttle back to my car, which is in a rural area near "Merced River," with a view of the "Yosemite Falls" and, in another direction, "Half Dome."

I have an early picnic and will have plenty of time for the planned hike. The shuttle drops me off at the starting point. The route is Vernal Fall, Nevada Fall, John Muir Trail.
The trail gently climbs through the gorge to the bridge over "Merced River." Along the way, in the distance at the bottom of a side valley, I spot "Illilouette Fall." Just past the bridge, at a trail junction, a ranger is stationed. From this point, I’ll do a loop: up via the waterfalls, down via the "John Muir Trail."
I’ll be blown away by what I see. I’ve practically always lived in western France and have often been to the Alps in winter and summer, but for family and work reasons, I’ve never been there in May or June. So I’ve never seen waterfalls with such massive flows. I remember "Toketee Falls" during my trip to Oregon last year, but the flow was reduced due to hydroelectric power. The trail starts to climb steeply. It’s very well developed (steps built with blocks), heavily trafficked, with narrow passages. There’s so much to see—it’s stunning—and there are bottlenecks on the trail because hikers are going both ways. The trail quickly gets soaked from a cloud of mist, like yesterday. Since the trail doesn’t go to the base of the waterfall but climbs along the side to offset the height of the drop, nothing is in the mist once you’ve climbed a bit. The amount of water plunging into the void is unimaginable.


When I reach the top of the waterfall, I ask myself the same question as many others: is it better to let the T-shirt dry on me or on the hot rock?

A few dozen meters from the top of the waterfall, the National Park Service put up this sign. Why did they do it?

Possibility 1: It’s a joke. Possibility 2: It’s serious. At the end of summer, the flow is reduced, and pools form in the stream bed. People unaware of the remaining current might venture in. Note: I made up possibility 2 without having the slightest idea of the situation at the end of summer.
That was "Vernal Fall." The next waterfall is "Nevada Fall." The trail crosses "Merced River" and gets closer to the waterfall, but it doesn’t approach as closely as it did for "Vernal Fall," either at the base or during the climb (you can’t see the waterfall anymore). "Nevada Fall."

At the top of the waterfall, one trail leads to "Half Dome," another follows the wider, flatter valley toward "Merced Lake." A bridge lets you cross the river and return via the "John Muir Trail." The top of "Nevada Fall" is different from "Vernal Fall": you can’t see the bottom of the waterfall at all.

The trail starts to descend gently. It will go through a second damp section (an unavoidable shower). The rock face is vertical on the left; the trail is paved (about a meter wide) with a low wall on the right. The rock on the left has a slight overhang that reaches the vertical midpoint of the trail. Water constantly flows from the overhang, ensuring the shower and turning the trail into a stream, all over about 100 meters. In my opinion, when water isn’t flowing from the overhang, you don’t notice anything. The descent offers many panoramic views of the "Nevada Fall" site.

It’s a 600-meter elevation gain hike (4 to 5 hours without rushing, including all breaks and photos) and was exceptional under the conditions I experienced. I then go to "Half Dome Village" (accommodations, shops, etc.), among other things to take a shower at the "shower house," since there are no showers at the campground where I’m staying or in the park’s other campgrounds. Traffic is now flowing smoothly. I’ll end the day by driving up to "Glacier Point." On the itinerary posted at the beginning of the message, it’s at the end of the black line starting from "Badger Pass Ski Area." It’s about 50 km from Yosemite. I stop at "Washburn Point" first. The advantage of this viewpoint is that it’s in the vertical plane of "Half Dome," so the face of "Half Dome" appears as a vertical line.

The sky has turned milky, and the sun is gone. From up here, I also see the part of the park where I hiked this afternoon and its waterfalls, "Vernal Fall" and "Nevada Fall."

About 1 km farther, I arrive at "Glacier Point," the end of the road and probably the park’s most famous viewpoint. The face of "Half Dome" is visible (offset from "Washburn Point"), and photographers with tripods are waiting for it to be lit by the setting sun.

I think they’re waiting for nothing, but actually, they’ll be right—the sky will clear completely while I’m heading back to "Summerdale Campground."











































































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.


Why this country?
After visiting Hungary, Slovenia, Romania, and Poland in recent years, I’ve fallen in love with Eastern European countries. I adore the Slavic soul, its Austro-Hungarian villages, the gentle landscapes, the Carpathian Mountains, and that slightly mysterious atmosphere.
Slovakia evokes a certain imagination with its deep forests, medieval castles, and cobbled villages.
After seeing photos of the High Tatras—especially Lake Štrbské Pleso and Spiš Castle—I thought, "Let’s do it! We’re going!"
So, will Slovakia live up to what I imagine?
We’ll find out together.
We decided to travel as a group of six (five adults and a six-year-old child), by car (we needed two).
Here’s the day-by-day itinerary for this family trip, which started with a 3-day stay in Vienna (see the dedicated travel journal):














When it comes to the Caribbean island of Saint-Martin, it's customary to praise its coastline and dreamy beaches—and they certainly deserve it.
But in this story, I’d like to highlight other memories, aspects, and impressions for a slightly different change of scenery.
Enjoy the read—some text and, above all, lots of photos.
« Byenveni sou zile Sen Maten! » (Welcome to the island of Saint-Martin)

























Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...









