Here’s my second travel journal since my 2017 one. You can check it out here if you’d like: https://voyageforum.com/forum/densha-otaku-passion-japonaise-d9177495/

This was my first trip back to Japan since the COVID lockdown. Between 2017 (with a short visit in 2018) and 2024, a lot has unfortunately changed. Economic and demographic shifts have led—and will continue to lead—to the closure of many rural railway lines. Fewer residents, fewer travelers, rising operating costs, staffing shortages, and increasingly precarious funding. Then there’s the ever-growing number of tourists who damage everything in their path and frustrate locals. Fortunately, there are still plenty of ways to escape the crowds, even if you do run into groups of Chinese tourists arriving by bus at the Mino Railway Museum or aboard a Kiha 120 crossing the Izumo-Sakane switchback. (Oops, spoiler alert—that’s for my 2025 travel journal.) We’ll see if PM Takaichi has as much success on the ground as he does in his speeches.

I’m lucky to love remote regions and places most tourists don’t know about. Taking public transport—mostly trains—and living like the locals do. That’s what my trips are all about. Those who’ve followed me on these pages know I love trains, especially older ones. These are becoming rarer in regular service, and Japan still isn’t ready to allow even certified museums to run historic trains on public lines, unlike many other countries. I even have my own license to drive historic trams, despite being an IT specialist in my day job. You’ll find some comments that clearly reflect my opinions and experience with the operation and rolling stock of certain lines—sometimes positive, sometimes not.

My trips are always intense. This isn’t about relaxing. It’s about discovering, blending in with locals, being welcomed by associations and museums, and uncovering things most people wouldn’t even imagine exist halfway across the world.

Sorry for the long intro.

Hi there,

Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.

It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected. Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel. I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability. So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.

I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:

Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras

Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya

Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat

Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott

Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou

To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog: From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations

Happy reading, and safe travels!

Hey everyone,

Yesterday, I checked the Thailand forum to see if there were any questions to answer, but not much was happening—it was pretty quiet. Then I scrolled through the Southeast Asia section and realized that, even though Burma (Myanmar) was included, there weren’t many posts about it... I’ve only been there once, back in 1987, so it’s hard to create a photo thread about multiple trips like I sometimes do for Thailand. Still, that one trip was packed with unusual adventures, so I thought I’d share a few stories from it.

Since I didn’t take any notes at the time, this is all from memory—it’s not an exhaustive travel journal and isn’t meant to help plan a future trip to Myanmar.

Don’t expect photos; there won’t be any. I have some, but they’re slides that would need scanning and editing one by one to fix the wear and tear of time—way too much work.

The Context.

Back then (reminder: 1987), I was volunteering in Paris at the counter of a travel agency on Rue des Écoles. The agency was part of a well-known organization based in Mulhouse that mostly offered scheduled flights to Asia, charter flights to the Mediterranean, and flights to Mali with their own plane. They also had a few rare "roots"-style trips to certain destinations—trips where you didn’t bring your tennis racket but were ready to soak in everything, even if it meant tough conditions.

I’d already been to Thailand, Indonesia, and the Philippines in Asia. The director knew this, so he asked me to accompany a group to Burma. At the time, tours to Burma were already being sold by competitors, but they all had to go through the state-run agency, Touristburma (buses and hotels for tourists, and they only showed you what they wanted you to see—kind of like traveling in North Korea today). The service was only payable in dollars at the official exchange rate (which was six times worse than the black market rate, mind you...), and since it went through the state agency, all the money ended up with the junta.

My job was to do everything *without* going through Touristburma, which was completely illegal there. Nothing would be booked in advance. Back then, the Burmese visa was only valid for 8 days/7 nights, and since clients were paying for the experience, the itinerary was planned ahead. I’d have to find transport and a guide on the black market as soon as I arrived.

The clients weren’t misled—they knew from the start that the trip would be off the books, that officially we’d be a small group of friends (not an agency), unlike the truth (Touristburma wasn’t mandatory for individual travelers), and that it would be challenging. They also knew their trip would cost 3-4 times less while giving them a much better experience of Burma. As for pretending to be a group of friends, there were only six of us, so it worked out.

To cover all expenses (accommodation, transport, excursions), the agency gave me a sufficient budget. They also gave me the *same* budget a second time, which was strictly for bribing officials who might cause trouble, for backshish (tips), and, if needed, to "help" me get out of prison.

Before I left, I was thoroughly briefed by another guy who’d led the previous trip (he’d dealt with all the initial challenges). He explained everything I needed to know, what to watch out for, and advised me on what to bring as "gifts" (samples of well-known perfumes, specific cigarette and whisky brands, etc.). For the perfume samples, I rallied my family, friends, and even stores. For the rest, I’d pick things up at the duty-free shops in Don Muang (Bangkok’s only airport at the time)—I had the budget for it.

I couldn’t wait to leave...

Slovenia was the originally planned destination for summer 2022, as a complement to a road trip through Croatia and Montenegro. Plans changed on a whim in February of that year. Our Balkans road trip would ultimately be limited to Slovenia and take place over 10 days during the Easter school holidays. Flight tickets and car rental were booked right away; all that was left was to finalize our itinerary, already sketched out, and the accommodation reservations.

I decided to add Plitvice Lakes in Croatia to our program. I really wanted to discover them, and for my husband, it was a chance to revisit them several years after a trip to Yugoslavia when he was a teenager.

I’m happy to contribute to the reopening of our forum by posting this travel journal (originally posted in 2022 on another forum, the text has been partially revised and photos added). As usual, a few photos to start with—maybe they’ll inspire you to join in!

Hello everyone,

I’ve been to Morocco about fifteen times, but I’ve never posted a travel journal here on Voyage Forum. Why? I have no idea… Maybe because this section was so active, with lots of stories and photos. I thought sharing my adventures in *al Maghrib* wouldn’t be very original. Today, this space feels quieter, so what if I tried to give it a little life back, modestly? With some help…

This trip will be different. From the start of my relationship with Richard, I was determined to introduce him to *my* Morocco. But he was a bit reluctant… He’ll tell you about our 2022 meeting, and I’ll illustrate it with my photos, just like we did with our India travel journal.

Since Voyage Forum is restarting after a few years of hiatus, I couldn’t find any recent info about my trip between late November 2024 and January 20, 2025, going from DAR ES SALAAM to the Cape Town area via ZAMBIA and BOTSWANA. I’m really happy the site is back up, but I’ve noticed more and more people planning their trips down to the day, mentioning what they’ve scheduled and asking for technical advice for their 4x4 routes. That’s not how I travel at all—I prefer to leave a lot to the unexpected, like public transport (and the weather) and the people you meet along the way. The tips I’m sharing below come from the current situation, the randomness that makes unplanned trips special, and the strong connections you can make when you take your time without knowing what tomorrow will bring.

😏 TANZANIA: I had booked a TAZARA train ticket via WhatsApp before leaving to go from DAR ES SALAAM to MBEYA near the Zambian border. I’d contacted the station manager in Dar at +255 713 413 141, who kindly confirmed my reservation. Unfortunately, the train was out of service for an indefinite period, so I had to take the bus from the new Mwenge bus station on the city’s outskirts (allow extra time to get there—traffic is heavy). There’s no longer a direct train to ZAMBIA. You have to get off at MBEYA, then take a bus to the TUNDUMA border (2 hours to the bus station, then a 2 km taxi ride to the border). Crossing is easy—visa is free, no no-man’s-land, and you arrive directly in NAKONDE, Zambia. Exchange money on the Zambian side, but don’t change with the first person you see—check the rate first. I preferred to stop for the night in IRINGA since I took the bus at 4 PM. I arrived at 2 AM at Georges’ place, who picked me up directly from the bus station (several km from town). I’d booked the accommodation via Booking under Travellers Backpackers and Free City Tours. Georges and his employee were extremely helpful—they organized my bus trip to MBEYA the next day (bought the ticket and dropped me off, no commission). The place is decent, clean, and comfortable (10 € per night). Georges also organizes tours and safaris in the area (+255 679 529 700 direct). In MBEYA, I stayed at Karibuni Center Hotel (a quiet evangelical convent, very friendly and open to everyone, 13 € per night with breakfast). You can eat at a restaurant across the street. The rooms are clean and quiet (contact +255 754 510 174). To head to Lake MALAWI or the tea fields in TUKUYU, it’s best to take a moto-taxi from MBEYA to the Uyole junction. From there, you’ll find minibuses heading south frequently—change buses in TUKUYU (the tea fields are 4-5 km away).

😏 ZAMBIA: In NAKONDE, I highly recommend Izukanji Lodge—very quiet and clean, 2 km from the station (take a moto-taxi). The main building’s rooms are pricier than the annex across the street (where the restaurant and pool are). The rooms are just as clean and quiet but only 10 €, breakfast included. Contact the manager directly on WhatsApp at +260 979 649 452. If it’s full, try Divine Guest House (+260 973 127 816). The train isn’t always on time—if you catch it on the scheduled day, consider yourself lucky. The stationmaster, Mr. Chulu, is lovely. Contact him on WhatsApp at +260 777 550 302 for real-time updates. First-class berths are great (4 per compartment), 15 € one-way to KAPIRI MPOSHI. There always seems to be space. Book two berths if you want extra comfort. No need to bring food—the dining car serves decent meals, and there’s a bar. In KAPIRI MPOSHI, I stayed at Kapiri Council Lodge, 2 km from the train station. It’s okay, but there are often power outages in the evening, which means no water either. You’ll have to wait until 8 PM. Breakfast is very basic. For LUSAKA, there are plenty of buses in the morning from the downtown bus station (2-3 hours). The best companies are Power Tools (yellow buses) or UBZ if you can find it (the best in Zambia—Western comfort). In LUSAKA, use Yango taxis (download the app—it’s like Uber in Zambia, very affordable). I stayed at Natwange (Hostelworld chain), reachable at +260 966 303 816. It’s a beautiful, quiet place 3-4 km from downtown, very shady, with a pool. The rooms are clean and comfortable, and the food is excellent (great salads). The staff is super friendly, as they are everywhere in the country. There’s also a mini-supermarket nearby with everything, including takeout meals. Book your bus ticket to LIVINGSTONE at least the day before (UBZ). The trip is pleasant. In LIVINGSTONE, many backpackers stay at Jolly Boys—it’s a nice place to relax by the pool with a beer at the end of the day, but it’s mostly a party hostel for young people doing rafting or canyoning on the Zambezi (pricier than elsewhere). For those who prefer peace and quiet, I highly recommend Likute Guest House on the same street, right near Jolly Boys. The rooms are decent for 10 €, breakfast included (same price as a dorm at JB). You can order dinner in advance. The staff is friendly. Great value at Da Canton restaurant on the main road (pizza, pasta, meat, salads, etc.). The Livingstone Museum is worth a visit if you have time. At the bottom of Kapondo Street, you can take a shared taxi to Victoria Falls or even to KAZUNGULA at the Botswana border (cheap—the taxi leaves when full). People short on time often compare the views of Victoria Falls from the Zambian side (20 $) and the Zimbabwean side (30 $). Honestly, they’re very different, and it’s worth seeing the falls from Zimbabwe even if it’s pricier (visa required, easy to get at the border—everything is done on foot). Cross the bridge where you can bungee jump. Take your time at the falls—it’s truly stunning. You can visit Zimbabwe for half a day and stay in Zambia (cheaper, since everything in Zimbabwe is paid in dollars). There’s more water on the Zimbabwean side, but the Zambian side is beautiful too.

😏 BOTSWANA: Crossing the border at KAZUNGULA from Zambia is quick and easy (brand-new bridge over the Zambezi). Visa is free. Don’t exchange money at the border. There’s a shopping center 1 km away (Choppies store) with an ATM (no commission). I hitched a ride with tourists to the bank since they had a car. In the shopping center parking lot, you can easily find a shared taxi to KASANE. In the area, you can get around easily by shared taxi (just give the name of your guesthouse, and the drivers will tell you which vehicle to take). The fare is fixed (0.50 €). I stayed at Elephant Trail GH and Backpackers—a great spot where you can stay in a 4-bed dorm for 10 €. There are also huts for two in the garden (clean and comfortable) with a pool. You can order dinner (great food) or cook your own meals. The place is quiet and friendly (they organize safaris with early-morning pickups for Chobe and evening boat trips in the Kwando marshes to see animals). I preferred flying (Air Botswana) with a friend to MAUN (55 €) instead of taking an 8-10 hour bus (tickets can be bought directly at the airport). In MAUN, I stayed at Jayla Homestay with Mapula (+267 71 658 737)—a wonderful, kind woman always ready to help. The homestay is in a beautiful family home 3-4 km from downtown, past the Kwanokeng gas station. It’s easy to get there by shared taxi from the downtown taxi stand near Shoprite. Mapula cooks refined, varied meals on request. She also organizes safaris in the OKAVANGO with morning pickups from the guesthouse (picnic included) at a great price. Her rooms are comfortable and very clean (microwave, coffee/tea, and kettle available). The day trip by canoe in the OKAVANGO marshes is a must. However, we saw very few animals because the rainy season had started (zebras, giraffes, buffaloes, hippos). The atmosphere, serenity, and changing light throughout the day were remarkable. Direct flight from MAUN to CAPE TOWN with Airlink for 280 € on December 24.

😏 SOUTH AFRICA: In Cape Town, I stayed at Sunflower Stop Backpackers in the Green Point neighborhood—very quiet and safe. This hostel is perfect for meeting travelers of all ages. Everything is nearby (supermarkets, bars, restaurants, the sea, the park, tourist areas, the stadium, Sea Point, and the Waterfront). I spent 13 days in Cape Town and always found something to do—this city is so pleasant to live in, welcoming, and packed with sports and cultural activities. Don’t miss the Minstrel Carnival in early January if you’re in the area. Kalk Bay beach (with its colorful beach huts) is worth the detour on the way to SIMON’S TOWN and Boulders Beach. Stop for lunch at Salt in FISH HOEK—the homemade ravioli and fish are amazing. Everything is excellent there. At Boulders Beach, when you arrive at the main beach after the entrance gate, don’t hesitate to wade into the water up to your waist if the tide is high and head straight past the northern end of the beach—the penguins are farther out. Beautiful beach and sunset at Scarborough Beach. I took the 8-day Bazbus pass (134 €) for the Garden Route and stopped in STELLENBOSCH on the last day of my loop back to Cape Town. This lets you extend the trip to 10 days if you stay 2 nights in STELLENBOSCH, since it’s easy and cheap to get back to Cape Town with an Uber. I really liked this Bazbus option—it’s convenient because they drop you off and pick you up directly at your chosen hostel or hotel. I loved HERMANUS, even though I didn’t see any whales. The atmosphere is very British and classy. The coastline is beautiful and rugged. Don’t miss the walk to Mosselberg, which overlooks the entire bay. MOSSEL BAY is more working-class and run-down—nothing particularly interesting, in my opinion. In WILDERNESS, try to stay at Beach House Backpackers Lodge. The sea view is stunning, even from the dorm. In KNYSNA, Thesen Island is overrated—it’s full of soulless new buildings. Prefer Leisure Island, which is just as busy with wealthy owners but nice for walks and swimming. Head to The Heads to wander the coastal trails with incredible views of the bay. Don’t hesitate to explore the heart of the artistic Concordia neighborhood (Rastafarian) to Judah Square on your own. The locals are warm and laid-back. No need to go through a tour operator. Anchorage restaurant is excellent for refined dishes and a great variety of food. In STELLENBOSCH, I stayed at Just a Bed (booked for one person on Booking). Don’t hesitate to contact the owner—she has several rooms in her guesthouse. The place is cozy and charming. The town is pleasant but feels disconnected from the surrounding population. You can walk to the Lanzerac vineyard, but don’t miss Boschendal a few kilometers away on the way to FRANSCHHOEK. People talk a lot about safety in South Africa, but as long as you respect the local norms, everything goes smoothly—the people are really welcoming, no matter their social background.

The recipe for the cocktail: endless beaches, a dazzling palette of colors, some breathtaking hikes, and excellent cuisine...

For the tasting, follow along in the pages of this travel journal! 😉

Don’t forget your hiking shoes, a swimsuit, sunscreen, but also a sweater, your driver’s license, and your credit card...

Just over 11 hours of flight, and we’ll be setting foot on Mauritian soil!

I'm starting my first travel journal since VF reopened!

This will mostly be to share my impressions and some photos, with a few days' delay, but I'm starting this journal while I'm still here.

First, I'd like to thank those who helped me prepare for this trip.

I was able to organize this stay in one of the most expensive countries in the world thanks to the home-exchange principle. Not necessarily a direct swap, but through a points system, which is more practical for choosing where you want to go without it having to be a reciprocal exchange.

For this trip, there will already be two different accommodations. We'll see how it goes after that.

The first place is near Yverdon-les-Bains, close to Lake Neuchâtel.

So, we're going to explore this area!

We arrived under capricious weather that won’t leave us for the next few days!

We had dinner at a pizzeria recommended by *Le Routard* in Yverdon, then took a little nighttime stroll through the town center before heading inland to settle into our accommodation.

We discovered a very large, quiet house—and especially the cat that stayed behind! Funny for a couple of mice! He’ll be sleeping with us 😹

This trip took place in May 2023, a period of calm that later proved precarious. Day of May 17 Departure from Marseille on El Al (tickets booked by ourselves, while the stay itself was organized by Voyageurs du Monde). Before check-in, six or seven El Al staff members conduct a security check—quite understandable, but they do it in total chaos. They send people to the left, then block them, redirect them to the right, for no apparent reason. Most of the staff don’t speak French, which complicates things. They work at an incomprehensible slow pace, stopping the interview to do something else, then coming back and starting over... The flight goes smoothly, except for the meal service, which, for a four-hour flight that El Al delayed to lunchtime, is more than basic: a quarter-liter of water and a corned beef sandwich that’s absolutely disgusting and inedible. To get a coffee, you have to queue at the back of the plane. You end up missing Ryanair🙂 Arrival at Ben Gurion goes better than expected—the passport control is fairly quick, as is baggage delivery. Transfer to the Lily and Bloom hotel, Lilienblaum Street (easy to remember 🙂) As advised by Voyageurs du Monde, we book a table for the evening at the nearest restaurant, North Abraxas. Good atmosphere and decent food. We get a sense of the price level in Israeli restaurants. Around us, diners share dishes placed in the middle of the table. Much more convivial than our individual plates!! Day of May 18

The next morning, we go down for breakfast at 7:30 AM—a late hour, but the setup is slow, with the two servers taking their time. We ask the bartender for a long coffee and a black tea... It must be a complicated order because it takes him over 10 minutes to make it. He serves us with the grace of a dancer. A good breakfast if you’re not in a hurry, followed by a little stroll in the neighborhood, since our meet-up with Patrick Arfi, our guide for the day, isn’t until 10 AM. P. Arfi is a former publishing house director in Paris who has lived in Israel for a long time and has a vast cultural knowledge. After an initial chat, we head toward Jaffa, focusing on the Bauhaus buildings preserved by a clever urban policy that allows high-rise construction while maintaining old architectural ensembles.



This policy keeps the streets looking more human-scale than the usual high-rise districts in modern cities.

With the visit to Jaffa, Patrick introduces us to a fascinating slice of history, despite the temperature nearing 38°C. Jaffa, once an independent city, is now a neighborhood of Tel Aviv—a predominantly Muslim area. We notice a few buildings in poor condition. They belong to Palestinian families who left Tel Aviv. Otherwise, the city has been very well restored, apart from these few buildings.

A government agency rents out the ground floors of these buildings, which helps fund part of the security work. They also try to track down the owners and buy back the abandoned properties, but some refuse to sell. The visit is very touristy—most of the people we meet are tourists like us.













There’s very little local life, except in the lower part of the city. To be continued, as I’ve reached the allowed photo limit.

So happy the forum reopened last October!!! I’ve started reading again (posts, travel journals) and chiming in on a few discussions. Now I’m stepping it up by writing a new travel journal—I’ve already posted a few between 2018 and 2020.

My latest trip was to Italy from August 27 to September 26, 2024. As the title says, it was a wander through Tuscany in parts of the region that aren’t the most visited. No Firenze-Siena-Pisa trilogy, no San Gimignano; there’ll be a quick detour into Siena, but I’ll skip the best-known sights. That choice, plus traveling in September, should help dodge overtourism. It worked out—crowds were light, sometimes very light, the whole way. Here’s the practical rundown: - a long trip outside peak season (ah, retirees!) - solo camping (caravan) - a mix of activities (hiking, mountain biking, sightseeing) in places that aren’t always packed with tourists. Still, I don’t feel like I ended up in some hidden-away spots. Not sure if this will draw any readers.

DAY 1: Tuesday, August 27, 2024 The heat was intense on the drive in across the plain; two big storms—more rain and hail than lightning and thunder—threw the weather off, the first near Imola, the second on the four-lane road up the Savio valley. I left the Cesena-Roma four-lane at the Verghereto exit and climbed up to Balze (1,100 meters). The campsite is even higher (1,200 meters), in the forest near the source of the Tevere (Tiber). Staying up here will cut down on driving for the first part of the trip: a route through the Appennino (Apennines) on the border between Toscana and Emilia-Romagna. The temperature was surprisingly mild for the altitude, the air thick with moisture by late afternoon. I drove back down from the campsite to Balze (2 km on the road) to grab groceries (it’s doable) and scout tomorrow’s hike. .

The endpoint of the planned hike is just a few meters from this sign (the trail crosses this road about 3 km from Balze). I realized Balze and the source of the Tevere (Tiber) are actually in Emilia-Romagna, not Toscana. I always thought the Tevere (Tiber), which flows toward Roma (Tyrrhenian side), started in Toscana! I’ll come back to this quirk in Day 3’s write-up.

Travel journal in Eastern Crete from September 8th to 29th, 2024

Our 21-day itinerary

Sunday, 08/09: Once again—and this is the eighth time—we’re setting off, the four of us: Patrick, Michelle, Jacques, and Monique, for the Greek islands. This time, we’ve chosen Crete. No need to wake up at 3 or 4 a.m. to reach Basel-Mulhouse Airport at dawn to catch the first flight to Greece at 6 a.m.! Given the prohibitive prices charged by EasyJet, we found flights that were half the price from Zurich Airport, which is accessible in 3 hours by train from Colmar. Pierre-Paul drives all four of us to Colmar train station, where we take the train to Basel and then, 20 minutes later, the direct train to Zurich Airport. After wandering around the airport, we go for a coffee at 6 € each! We’re in Switzerland, after all. The other dining areas all have vending machines for selecting and paying for meals—soon, there won’t be anyone left to serve you! After a short wait, we take off at 7:45 p.m. (20 minutes late) in an Aegean Airbus A321. Free in-flight meal service isn’t bad either! We land in Heraklion around 11:15 p.m. We pick up our rental car (a red Seat Ibiza) at the airport and head straight to our apartment, located 2 km from the city center. Thanks to the GPS, we find it quickly. It’s a beautiful, fully renovated apartment with all the comforts and well-equipped. On the table, there’s wine, bottles of water, jam, coffee, etc. Given the late hour, we won’t stay up long.

Monday, 09/09: To enhance our breakfast, Michelle and Monique set off to find a bakery nearby. They return with croissants and donuts—yum... Then we head to the west coast. The highway follows the coastline, but we prefer taking the old road to Malia, our first stop. We visit the major archaeological site of this Minoan city under the hot sun. The site covers a vast area, but the ruins aren’t very evocative except for a few beautiful amphorae scattered around. The explanations in a small house at the entrance are interesting and help us better understand the organization of the ancient city with its different districts. From there, we head toward the nearby mountains to see the thousand-year-old plane tree in the village of Krasi. We take the opportunity to enjoy an excellent lunch of moussaka and delicious gemista at the Krassopsychia taverna in the village center. Pleasant surprise: the prices are still reasonable, with a bill of 70 € for four, including wine and water. The friendly tradition of complimentary dessert and glasses of raki continues—great! We’ve set the bar high right away! Let’s hope the rest lives up to it! On the way back toward the Lassithi Plateau, we stop at the Kardiotisa Monastery perched high on the mountain to enjoy a magnificent view of the entire region. Just a little further, we arrive at the Lassithi Plateau: the presence of small windmills used to pump water from the ground is the typical feature of this plateau. We complete a full loop around the plateau, passing by numerous orchards and vegetable gardens that occupy the entire space. At the end of the plateau, we once again cross mountain passes via winding roads that bring us near Agios Nikolaos. Our apartment is located about ten kilometers further south in Amoudhara. The owner, who was notified, waits for us and shows us her superb apartment, whose large terrace overlooks the entire Mirabello Bay. She then gives us valuable information about the different beaches in the area. Dinner will be frugal, given our hearty lunch in Krasi!

Sunset over Mirabello Bay

Tuesday, 10/09: A bit of a gray sky when we wake up around 8 a.m., but the sun will soon triumph over the scattered clouds. For our first swim, we opt for Voulisma Beach, even though our host warned us it was a bit “crowdy.” That’s understandable given the beautiful emerald color of the sea and the lovely curve of the beach. To avoid the big crowds, we move toward the eastern part of the beach, accessible via a steep staircase. The water is very warm, and this first dip is very pleasant. Before returning to the apartment, we stop at the bakery to buy spinach pies, essential ingredients to accompany our Greek salad for lunch. Of course, everything will be washed down with ouzo, which will remain our favorite drink for the next three weeks—but in moderation!!! A nap is in order after all that effort. In the late afternoon, we drive to Agios Nikolaos, the main seaside resort in Crete. We’re not too enthusiastic about visiting this mass-tourism resort, but the center of Agios, concentrated around the small inner harbor, is pleasant to see despite the plethora of shops and restaurants. We dine a little outside the harbor in the shaded courtyard of the Avli taverna: the oven-baked lamb, squid with spinach, and cuttlefish ink orzo pasta are all highly appreciated. We still stay under a 75 € bill for four.

Mirabello Bay seen from our terrace

Wednesday, 11/09: At 8 a.m., the terrace is already bathed in sunlight, and it’s already quite hot. The small parasol barely gives us enough shade, but we’re not complaining! For our second swim, we head to a tiny beach recommended by our host, just 3 minutes by car from our place. The path leading to it is very discreet, and we don’t find it right away! It’s a small sandy cove with a few welcome tamarisk trees for shade. When we arrive, there are two swimmers, and there won’t be more than five or six in the morning. After lunch and a nap, we head to the beautiful village of Kritsa, just a few kilometers away. It’s too late to visit the beautiful church of Kera Panagia, which is already closed. We settle for the exterior, which is worth a look. The weather is clouding over, and big clouds are gathering. Upon arriving in Kritsa, a heavy shower forces us to take shelter in the Platanos taverna in the village center, and since it’s nearly 7 p.m., we decide to stay and dine there. Good choice—excellent meze: croquettes and stuffed zucchini flowers, gigantes beans, grilled tomatoes and feta, and pancetta as the main dish. The rain stops just as we decide to head back.

Village of Kritsa

Thursday, 12/09: Our terrace faces east, so we get to watch the sunrise around 7 a.m.—it’s truly a beautiful sight we never tire of. Around 9 a.m., we head to the village of Plaka, where boats depart for the island of Spinalonga, located north of Agios Nikolaos. We board the first boat, which sets sail at 10 a.m., and we’re not alone—the boat is practically full. After 10 minutes, we land on the island at the same time as several other boats from Elounda or Agios. Needless to say, there are already quite a few people walking through the streets of the leper village. The visit remains interesting and moving as we read the explanatory panels recounting the island’s history under Byzantine and then Turkish rule, followed by its transformation into a leper colony. As soon as we climb toward the top of the island via more or less maintained paths, there’s almost no one left. The 360° view from up there is stunning.



Spinalonga Island

The heat is now unbearable, and we can’t wait to get back home to have lunch on our terrace and rest. In the late afternoon, we go grocery shopping at the AB supermarket at the entrance of Agios. We had spotted another nice restaurant in our guide, but unfortunately, there’s a different one at the indicated location that doesn’t inspire us. So, we return to the Avli taverna for another dinner just as good as the first.

Friday, 13/09: We repeat yesterday’s successful program: a swim in our little cove, lunch on the terrace, a nap, and then, in the late afternoon, we discover another nearby village, Kroustas, nestled in the olive groves near Kritsa. Much less touristy than Kritsa, it’s mostly inhabited by locals, especially the elderly who are enjoying the cool air on their chairs—if you can call it cool given the still-high temperatures in the late afternoon! We then return to visit Kritsa, which we hadn’t been able to explore due to the rain. Dinner at a taverna in the village center at a very reasonable price.

Saturday, 14/09: Today, we move to our new base further east. We start with a high viewpoint at the Faneromeni Monastery, which overlooks Mirabello Bay. The monastery itself is of little interest as it’s under renovation with excessive concrete work. We continue to the village of Kavoussi to see another exceptional tree after a few kilometers on a dusty, bumpy track. It’s an olive tree said to be about 3,200 years old—impressive, and the countryside is very beautiful. It’s time to find a place for lunch. We find one in the charming little port of Mohlos, where a few tavernas surround a very nice small beach. Our choice falls on the Bogazzi taverna, where we enjoy fried fish. To reach our new base in Zakros, we still have to drive through the mountains before reaching Sitia, Paleokastro, and finally Zakros. The region is beautiful, with olive groves and rows of wind turbines taking advantage of the strong wind near the northern tip of the island. In Zakros, we’re greeted by our very friendly host. Here too, we have all the comforts and a beautiful terrace overlooking the village. The apartment has reversible air conditioners, but the overly simple instructions leave us puzzled. Thinking we’ve set it correctly, we realize a little too late that it’s blowing hot air over 30°C! After numerous attempts and testing several confusing programs, we finally succeed! Dinner on our new terrace.

Sunday, 15/09: This morning, we get up early to hike in the “Gorge of the Dead” while it’s still cool. The sky is blue as usual! We park in the nearest parking lot and start our descent via a beautiful path winding through the olive groves. A little further on, the landscape opens up, and the path, now a stony trail, begins the descent to the dry riverbed. On either side of the riverbed rise beautiful reddish cliffs.





Gorge of the Dead

The trail winds its way through this narrow gorge with difficulty. It was in the many caves visible halfway up the slope that the Minoans buried their dead, hence the name “Gorge of the Dead.” The gorge opens onto a beautiful small pebble beach. A swim is welcome after this hike that made us sweat. The hike took us 1 hour and 25 minutes, and a little less on the way back. Meanwhile, Monique did some shopping and prepared an excellent lunch. In the late afternoon, we go down to dine at Platanakis, a taverna in the small village of Kato Zakros.

Monday, 16/09: This morning, we explore the northern part of the east coast near Palekastro. We start with a dip at the beautiful Hionia Beach near Palekastro. The water is still just as nice, but a light breeze is blowing—not enough to spoil our fun! Seeing all the wind turbines lining the ridges, it’s no surprise.

Grocery shopping in Palekastro and return to Zakros. A little rain in the late afternoon and an excellent dinner at Iannis Mitsakakis’ Taverna in Adravastis. These are the kind of small tavernas we love—unpretentious, a few tables on a terrace, a warm welcome, a short menu guaranteeing freshness, tasty dishes prepared by the server’s mom, and a light bill. What more could you ask for!

Tuesday, 17/09: We head back toward Palekastro to do some shopping, but it’s also the road to the Toplou Monastery. There, we see a collection of magnificent icons dating from the 15th to the 20th century. We can also admire drawings of Orthodox religious architecture. We continue toward the Mavros Akrotiri headland to enjoy the view of the sea and rocky capes. On the way back to our place, we make a small detour to see the famous Vai palm grove. Meh... As for Vai Beach, it’s filled with paid umbrellas and sunbeds, and there are so many people that we flee. Plus, having to pay for parking is another reason to snub this trendy beach. We prefer our Hionia Beach, which we already appreciated the other day. In the late afternoon, Pat and I start the trail that begins at Kato Zakros Beach heading south. The poorly marked path crosses a plateau of sharp limestone. The paint and cairn markings are no longer very visible, and with dusk approaching, we turn back toward Kato Zakros. Dinner at the Platanakis taverna—less good than last time.

Wednesday, 18/09: To avoid the scorching sun, Pat, Mimi, and I get up earlier than usual to hike the Hohlakies Gorge. At this early hour, the sky is quite cloudy, and it’s drizzling. When we arrive in the village of Hohlakies, we park in front of a small chapel, the start of the hike. The sky is now completely clear. The trail starts among the olive groves, then after passing through a gate, we descend into the gorge filled with large rocks. We’re alone in the world, and the landscape is magnificent. A few wild goats clinging to the cliff watch us from above. After 1 hour and 15 minutes, we emerge onto the wonderful Karoumès Beach. A pleasant swim, then back to civilization! A walk in the late afternoon in Zakros to discover the beautiful springs route. Dinner in Adravastis.

Thursday, 19/09: Another move: Before heading to our next stop, we make a detour to see the beautiful Keratokampos Beach and can’t resist a swim in the still-warm, clear water. We continue our journey via Ziros, then reach the south coast and have lunch at the Stephi taverna in Ferma—excellent meal! The south coast is quite urbanized and has much less charm than the east coast we’ve just left! The numerous plastic greenhouses are partly to blame. We stop for groceries in Ierapetra. Around 3 p.m., we arrive at our destination in the small perched village of Anatoli. Our lodging is at the top of the village, and from the path leading to it, we have a magnificent view of the coastal plain, unfortunately overloaded with plastic greenhouses. It reminds us of the landscapes of El Ejido in Andalusia.

View of the Ierapetra coast from Anatoli

Friday, 20/09: A walk and discovery of the hamlet of Anatoli. There are few services—a tiny grocery store, a taverna, and that’s it. Fortunately, the traveling baker arrives and honks. We take the opportunity to buy fresh bread. Leaving the village, we take a path that should lead us to the hamlet of Drygies. The landscape is beautiful. We walk through a lovely pine forest before arriving at the hamlet. The path continues to a taverna that’s closed today, with a superb terrace overlooking the coast. Luckily, the owner arrives and informs us that the taverna will be open next Sunday and that we can enjoy barbecued meat. Noted! We head back to Anatoli via the small paved road with, fortunately, very limited traffic. Lunch on our terrace, then a dip in our private pool! The water is noticeably cooler than at the beach. Dinner at the village taverna: there’s only one menu—meze starters, souvlaki, water, wine, and bread—all for 35 €! We think we’re dreaming—was there a mistake? No.

Saturday, 21/09: We discover the beach of the village of Myrtos, a small seaside resort that’s quite touristy but on a human scale. We swim in the western part of the beach, and once again, we’re alone in the water. The best part: warm water and tamarisk trees for welcome shade. There’s even a shower to rinse off! In the late afternoon, Pat and I decide to go for a hike in the Selakano pine forest. To get there, we take a narrow, winding, and poorly paved road after the village of Christos. Plus, at this altitude, we encounter clouds clinging to the mountain, so it’s drizzling, and visibility is reduced. We decide to turn back and return to Anatoli. As compensation, we take the path that passes in front of the lodging and leads us to the Timios Stavros chapel, which crowns the summit of the nearby mountain. We arrive at the summit just in time for the sunset at 7 p.m. Breathtaking 360° panorama and magnificent colors!

Sunset from Anatoli

Sunday, 22/09: This morning, Pat, Mimi, and I go for a hike in the Sarakina Gorge, located about 12 km from Anatoli via a beautiful road winding through irrigated olive groves. We park in the small parking lot before the trail. At the start, the path follows a levada (small irrigation canal) and quickly enters a very narrow gorge flanked by high cliffs. The riverbed is cluttered with huge rocks blocking the passage. No matter—in the technical sections, ropes or ladders allow us to overcome these obstacles with a bit of skill. You can imagine how quickly the riverbed must rise during a storm, given the narrowness of the gorge!

We progress slowly through this magnificent and impressive rocky chaos. At the exit of the gorge, we take another return path that partly follows the paved road. Back in Anatoli, we go to lunch at the Drygies taverna. We sit at the edge of the terrace under a huge tree that covers almost the entire terrace and order grilled lamb dishes prepared according to the ancient “antikristo” method.

Monday, 23/09: Departure for our last stop before Heraklion. We thought about swimming at Tertsa Beach, but it turns out to be less pleasant than expected, with pebbles and an uneven rocky plateau. So, we return to Myrtos Beach, which we know well and suits us perfectly. We head west, leaving the coast a bit. Around 3:30 p.m., we arrive at our destination in the village of Kamilari, near the famous Matala spot. We’ve rented a beautiful, modern, well-equipped apartment with a lovely shaded terrace. The owner is very friendly and explains everything necessary for a good stay. We explore the quite touristy village with its few tavernas, all full of tourists, mostly Germans.

Tuesday, 24/09: Visit to the village of Sivas, well restored thanks to the Germans, who have invested a lot here. We take the opportunity to scout out “friendly” tavernas, then go for a swim at Kalamaki Beach. Apart from a small sandy access, you have to enter the water via a chaotic limestone plateau—proof of this is that Monique trips slightly when entering the water. A group of very unfriendly German women blocks the sandy passage and doesn’t hesitate to push swimmers they deem too close. Back home, lunch, and a nap. In the late afternoon, we drive to visit the nearby Phaistos site. We benefit from very beautiful lighting. From the elevated site, we overlook the Messara Plain with a beautiful view of the olive grove checkerboards highlighted by the late afternoon sun. The site itself is quite vast, but to appreciate it, it’s better to read the explanatory panels placed throughout the different quarters. At this hour, the site is almost empty, and the beautiful light adds charm to the visit.

Wednesday, 25/09: Departure for the village of Matala, which doesn’t interest us in itself, having been there during the “hippie” era in 1976. However, going to Red Beach, only accessible by taking a path overlooking this area, appeals to us much more. We park in the large parking lot just outside the village and start our climb, which brings us to a pass from where we can admire this beautiful red-sand beach framed by beautiful cliffs plunging into the sea. The weather is magnificent, and at this early hour, there aren’t many people yet. We swim in the free part located near the cliff on the right when arriving at the beach. The sea is like glass, warm, and without a single ripple—a real treat! After half an hour, we turn back, and now there are many people rushing on this path, not at all made for feet in sandals or flip-flops, yet many vacationers venture out like this! Matala lives up to its image—a trendy place, full of shops, bars, and restaurants. You could be in any seaside resort with a standard global urbanism, lacking particular charm. Back home. In the late afternoon, a walk through the olive groves surrounding Kamilari, then dinner at Evangelina’s, who runs the Minoan Parassies taverna in the middle of the olive groves. Evangelina is quite a character: we came to reserve a table for 8 p.m. when it was only 7 p.m., but since we lingered near her restaurant, she prepares a table for us and urges us to sit down! And there she takes our order, and a little later, the meze arrive, followed by the main dishes. We finish this good dinner with several generous glasses of raki, accompanied by Evangelina’s encouragements, repeating “poya poya bravo bravo” in a loop. We’re in great shape too, by the way! We return in the middle of the night, on foot, fortunately, with the path vaguely lit by our phones...

Thursday, 26/09: This morning, we discover a new beach, Kommos Beach, not far from Kamilari either. It’s a long sandy beach, a small part of which is dedicated to paid umbrellas and sunbeds, and the rest is free. We spot a tamarisk tree to take shelter from the still-hot sun, and once again, we enjoy clear, warm water. The few swimmers spread out easily over nearly 500 meters of beach. In the late afternoon, Pat and I go to admire the sunset from the hill near our lodging. The hill, covered with olive trees, is threatened by a planned housing development of large cubic villas—trends dictate. Concrete never stops...

Friday, 27/09: We thought about leaving the car at the Odiyitria Monastery, the end of the paved road, but since the track descending to the cave remains drivable, we park 3 km further at the junction of the track leading to Kali Limenes Beach. We still have to walk for half an hour on a less drivable track, and then we’re at the entrance of the Farango Gorge. It’s a beautiful, easy hike since we follow the dry pebble riverbed. Before arriving at the beach, there’s a very beautiful small chapel sheltered under a large cliff, beautifully lit at this early hour.



Agio Farango Chapel

A few climbers are scaling the cliff, and about ten swimmers are enjoying the sea. Return to the car under the hot sun. In the late afternoon, we all return to visit the interesting Odiyitria Monastery. Last swim at Kommos Beach and an excellent dinner at the Sigelakis taverna in Sivas.

Saturday, 28/09: There’s an end-of-vacation atmosphere... We pack our bags and head north. A short stop to see the village of Vorri, and a little over an hour later, we arrive in the big city of Heraklion. Since it’s too early to check into the apartment, we park in the city center to visit the famous archaeological museum. It’s indeed a must-see highlight of our stay in Crete. All four of us are amazed by the quantity and quality of the objects presented from the Minoan civilization. After more than 2 hours, we come out without having seen everything, but we’re a bit overwhelmed by all these wonders. Lunch at a nice little taverna very close to the Titus Church. We go to take possession of our apartment—the same as on the way there, still just as satisfying. In the late afternoon, I go alone for a walk in the historic district of the city, passing by the Morosini Fountain, which is bustling with people—some seated at café terraces, others standing and chatting. There’s a lively atmosphere here. A little further on are the Venetian loggia and the Agios Titos Church. I walk down to the old Venetian port to stroll along the jetty and admire the fortifications under beautiful late-afternoon lighting, then return to the apartment. Dinner near our place at Kiriakis, a “chic” restaurant but with very reasonable prices and excellent cuisine.

Sunday, 29/09: Wake-up at 3:30 a.m., quick coffee, and drive to the nearby airport. We leave the car in the parking lot. Already a lot of people at this early hour. Since we don’t have checked luggage, we go straight to security, which goes fairly quickly, then it’s waiting time and takeoff on time in an Airbus A321 for a 45-minute flight to Athens. We take off again in another Airbus A321 with a 50-minute delay to arrive in Zurich at 11:10 a.m. local time. Then we have to take the train to Basel and then the one to Colmar. With fewer Sunday services, we won’t arrive in Colmar until around 4 p.m.

Conclusion All four of us returned very satisfied with this stay in Crete for several reasons: - We found superb beaches with clear, warm water and often very few vacationers. - The few hikes we did were magnificent, especially those where the trails went through gorges leading to deserted beaches. - We greatly appreciated Cretan gastronomy—there were so few disappointments that we can count them on one hand. - All the accommodations we booked turned out to be superb, with the icing on the cake being the very friendly welcome from our hosts. - Generally, contacts with Cretans were always very warm despite the language barrier—we speak a little Greek. - We also appreciated the diversity of landscapes in this eastern part of Crete, with plateaus and mountains with splendid rugged reliefs.

Note: The photo album is available by clicking on this link: https://photos.app.goo.gl/hfdjQndA5eXkL5k7 Captions are only visible per photo by clicking on the circled “i” in the top right. Budget: approximately 3,300 € per couple for 21 days, including train and flights Budget details per couple: - Flight Zurich-Heraklion: 440 € - Trains Colmar-Basel-Zurich round trip for 4: 442.40 € (221 € per couple) - Accommodation: 2,431 € / 21 = 115.80 € per night for 4 (1,216 € per couple) - Car rental for 21 days: 684 € + 145 € fuel (1,150 km) (414 € per couple) - Restaurants, food, etc.: 1,009 €

Hey fellow travelers,

We’re a couple in our fifties who’ve been traveling independently for ages—mostly in Asia, a bit in Africa, very little in the Americas, and never ever in West Asia until November 2023, when we discovered the Sultanate of Oman.



If we waited so long to explore this part of the world, it’s because a few questions were nagging at us, like: Can two Landais party lovers like us survive 15 days without apéro 😄? Or, more seriously: Can a feminist like me enjoy traveling in such a conservative country?

That is the question (and I feel your pain with this unbearable suspense 😅).

Ready to dive in?

PS: Apologies in advance for the casual tone of this travel journal—it’s the one I shared with our loved ones in real time, which explains everything.

Preamble

June 2024. While hiking with my brother on the GR 36 Tour du Morvan, I catch sight now and then of strange rectangular markers fixed to tree trunks. Against a bright orange background, a deep black Greek tau topped with a white dove. My first encounter with the Assisi Way. The Way of St. Francis: a pilgrimage route linking Vézelay in Burgundy to Assisi in Italy, covering nearly 1,800 km. It felt like an obvious next step—I immediately knew I’d take it on, attempt the adventure solo.



In the months that followed, I talked about my project to everyone—family, friends, my partner. An avalanche of comments, more or less the same but varying depending on each person’s character and life experiences. But deep down, it all boiled down to one legitimate question: why?

And the answers? Hesitant, awkward, partial, even confused. I quickly realized they weren’t so easy to find. It was as if my project seemed more like a whim, a kind of intimate caprice, rather than a well-thought-out plan. Of course, I knew the reasons that pushed me to leave—you always have to give some. Loved ones need to understand to feel reassured, and that’s understandable. But I fear that when I list them, they’ll sound like the same old checklist anyone embarking on this kind of journey might give. Of all the reasons I could mention, I’ll highlight just one here: the call of the road, the solo adventure that brings a powerful sense of freedom. A bit like Monsieur Seguin’s goat, who from her comfortable pen gazes longingly at the unconstrained horizon of the mountain. But if I’m being honest, I think I didn’t really know what I was looking for—or, more importantly, what I’d find. Deep down, when I reflect on it, one word keeps coming up that explains nothing and everything at once: desire.

Now well past sixty, I know that when I ask myself who I am or where I’m going, two things bring me fully back to myself: hiking and writing. And my intention was also to anchor this adventure through words, day by day. Writing down my feelings, emotions, discoveries, and reflections each evening. The famous travel journal that grounds the daily experience in reality. When I discovered the app "Polarstep," which was initially just meant to keep my loved ones updated and reassured, inform them of my progress, and maintain a connection, I found an opportunity to do it a little differently than usual. No retrospective notes polished up after returning, but spontaneous writing—recounting everything that crossed my mind during the day and publishing it immediately. A journey lived in real time.

This text is the exact transcription of my daily writings. Rereading them, I didn’t change a thing—just corrected a few mistakes and tweaked some awkward phrasing here and there. Short texts, fitting the format imposed by this kind of app. Writing as if addressing others.

Now, all that was left was to walk. April 18, 2026 – Vézelay.

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

Day 1 – February 14

We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...

But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.

"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?

15 days across Gran Canaria, El Hierro, and a dash of Tenerife under the storm Thérèse!

The planned itinerary will be slightly disrupted...

(The version without discussions is here)

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I inherited my love of travel from my parents and some of my grandparents. A strong passion, but one that was unfortunately limited by our family’s modest resources. Back then, living in northern Alsace, a simple trip to the southern part of the region—with the Wine Route as our destination—felt like an extraordinary journey to a land of plenty for the little boy I was in the late 60s and early 70s. Everything seemed so huge when you were still just a kid. Back then, I was overwhelmed by countless sensations—I was already highly sensitive, with a keen mind and a nose and taste buds that were developing like a pro’s. Which, as I’d later realize, wasn’t always an advantage.



Those magical days always began with a gentle late-spring or midsummer morning. The interior of the white Peugeot 404, license plate 210 LZ 67, had already soaked up the sun before the engine purred to life, and the cabin gave off a scent I could still recognize today—a fragrance I found so pleasant. Back then, I had no idea it was just the smell of warm plastic from the car’s interior. Yes, the scents of the 404 on sunny days became my madeleine de Proust... What’s more, the whole family was unusually cheerful because those moments of relaxation and leisure were rare. Everyone worked, and no one had an easy job or was well paid. Without the *Trente Glorieuses*, these experiences might never have happened.



Once we crossed the canton’s borders, I felt like I was light-years away from my everyday surroundings, and every kilometer plunged me deeper into *terra incognita*. It was thrilling. Far from my so-called "medium-sized" town, wheat fields, cornfields, and cabbage patches stretched out, punctuated by tall poles connected by long wires and topped with vegetation—like giant clotheslines without laundry, where magical beanstalks might grow to touch the sky. Back then, I was still far from tasting their product, which was simply beer. At the time, there was still a significant local hop production. Fun fact: it wasn’t until 2002 that Anglo-Saxon scientists proved hops and cannabis belong to the same biological family.

After the fields, the landscape took another step up as it rolled past the little boy’s eyes, often glued to the windows. First came modest hills, then a succession of rolling slopes that soon formed an unbroken chain. Their 700 meters in altitude felt like Himalayan peaks to me—impressive, inert giants, a whole new world. Gazing at them, an intense emotion welled up somewhere between my stomach and lungs, nearly taking my breath away. What mysteries, what treasures did these heights hold? And then there were the cherries on top—the crowning touch that made the scene even more magical: proud, majestic castles perched on the summits like impassive sentinels. Monuments from the past, yet firmly rooted in the present on their rocky spurs. The little boy’s eyes sparkled—he’d been given a castle for Christmas, complete with battlements, towers, a drawbridge, and fully armed knights. He’d watched and lived *Ivanhoe* on the only French TV channel that existed back then.

Only once did my paternal grandfather join us on one of these trips. A tall, intelligent man with a face that could shift from stern to mischievous, clearly full of humor and charisma. Sadly, his relationship with alcohol had taken a toll on his life and, by extension, those of his loved ones. He had a strong personality—if his boss crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch him, which meant he went through a lot of different jobs. Back then, you could quit one job and easily find another. It was quite something to see him in his final stages, hallucinating pink elephants and even drinking perfume when he had nothing else left. The last time I saw him, he’d slipped away from the doctors and nurses while hospitalized in pretty bad shape—at least, I assume his liver was the issue. We were sitting down for a family lunch when the door burst open, and there he stood in his pajamas, eyes twinkling with mischief, clearly pleased with the dramatic entrance. That theatrical moment didn’t spare us from burying him a few months later at the age of 71. One day, my mother told me the family doctor had quietly remarked that it was a shame—with his robust constitution, he could’ve lived to be a hundred. Yes, the family doctor—this was the man who’d come treat you any day, at almost any hour, just for a phone call. It really existed, it’s not a myth!

That day, his wife—my paternal grandmother—was also along for the ride. Everyone agreed that Jeannette was a good woman. She worked as a waitress at *Le Tigre*, the biggest brasserie in town, right in the center. Most customers preferred to be served by her, including local dignitaries and even the mayor. As a kid, I didn’t find her very fun, open, or warm—she seemed a bit stern. Back then, women in their fifties already had the face and build of grandmothers. Same went for men, don’t get me wrong. I had no idea about the struggles she faced because of her husband. I didn’t know that 30 years earlier, she’d had to flee Alsace while pregnant, under threat from Nazi fighter-bombers. I didn’t know she’d had several miscarriages, and that my father—her only surviving child, born prematurely in March 1940 at the other end of France—weighed less than a kilo at birth and was so tiny he could fit in a shoebox. Hard to imagine he’d grow into a strapping man nearly 1.80 meters tall, tipping the scales at 100 kilos. When you come back from summer camp in early August and ask why she didn’t pick you up with your parents, and they gently tell you she’s "in heaven," you don’t realize she passed away at 54 after suffering greatly from stomach cancer that had spread.

Back to that family outing, that enchanted parenthesis. I even remembered where we’d had lunch when I passed through Dambach-la-Ville decades later. One of those charming, flower-filled towns Alsace produces in abundance—and preserves so well. This one sits high on a hill, and I was a bit stunned on the parking lot because the view stretched far, revealing the Alsace plain below—its fields, villages, hills, and forests. The world seemed so vast and enticing that day, even though I was only glimpsing a tiny fraction of it.



The region was already very touristy, but I wouldn’t notice the downsides until much later. That Sunday noon, I discovered a large restaurant filled with diners. I can still see the enormous piece of meat they served me, decorated with a little wooden skewer topped with a flag. I kept that one for a long time. Those were the golden days of rich, flowing, thick sauces—so flavorful—and the era of the world’s best fries, made on the spot with the best potatoes. To top it off, I was *exceptionally* allowed a small bottle of apple juice, Orangina, or—even better if possible—Sinalco. Yes, Sinalco—like Orangina, but better. A brand that must’ve disappeared in the 70s, but why, and what a shame! Since then, Orangina’s little bubbles have taken the brand to the other side of the planet—it’s now Japanese.

Year after year, I’d eagerly await that ecstatic moment when the most beautiful castle in Alsace, the Haut-Koenigsbourg, appeared in my field of vision. The perfect model, the archetype that blended into the landscape at the height of a child’s dreams. The trip home always felt like a reality check—less jarring than an alarm clock, but more diffuse and melancholic. From then on, there was only one wish: *When do we leave again?*

Some trips are born twice.

Ours was supposed to happen in 2020. Everything was ready: the itinerary, the flight tickets, hotel reservations and Machu Picchu, the rental car, dreams of high altitudes and wide-open spaces. And then the world stopped.

Like so many other plans, our trip to Peru was put on hold. Disappointment was followed by a more concrete reality: paperwork, endless back-and-forth, and battles to recover some of the costs we’d already paid.

The years went by. Life moved on, with its shifting priorities and unexpected twists. Rescheduling this trip wasn’t possible until 2025.

The itinerary stayed mostly true to what we’d imagined five years earlier. One major difference, though—in 2020, we’d planned to rent a car and explore the roads completely independently. Most importantly, we hadn’t included the three-day Ausangate trek, due to lack of time.

For 2025, our plans evolved. 4x4 rental prices had skyrocketed, and when we looked at our schedule more closely, we realized quite a few days didn’t actually need a vehicle. So we made a different choice and opted for private drivers instead. A decision we never regretted. Always punctual, thoughtful, and available... they were so much more than just drivers.

All our reservations were made in January, except for the trek, which we booked in February.

Finding reliable drivers on our own was tough, so we asked Laurent from Tout Pérou to handle it for us. Going through Tout Pérou also gave us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, so Laurent booked those tickets too. He also bought our Machu Picchu entrance tickets at the same price we would’ve paid on the official website. When comparing domestic flight prices, we found it was cheaper to book from Peru, so Laurent took care of those as well.

This time, nothing was going to stop us. Peru was waiting. And we were ready. 🙂

Hey there, VF crew!

After wrapping up our travel journal on Java (link below), we’re now diving into our recent adventure in Puglia! Happy reading... Off we go on an adventure in Java (and a bit of Bali) | Travel journal > Indonesia | Voyage Forum

Day 1 - October 19

When you tell your friends and family you’re itching to escape to the other side of the planet to mingle with the Mongols, you can usually expect a barrage of questionable jokes and terrible puns. For this new adventure, it’s a different destination but the same old story—this time, we’re visiting the "pouilleux" (the "scruffy" ones). We’re taking off straight for Puglia! If you need a cheat sheet to remember where this oddly named place is on a world map, just think of it this way: Puglia is the maiden name on the ID card of the heel of the Italian boot! Personally, I prefer to remember it as the land of creamy burrata, the smell of focaccia fresh from the oven, orecchiette shaped by mamas, golden olive oil that shines like the sun (which beams down here 300 days a year), amaretto that makes you happy, and those famous trulli—those little hobbit-like dry-stone houses straight out of a movie set...

But I’ll stop spoiling the rest of our trip and focus on a factual rundown of this first Puglian day. So, are you joining us on this new adventure beyond our Gallic borders? Either way, Sasha (my youngest) and Luna (Flo’s daughter) didn’t need much convincing to stick with us and keep up the pace!

Our plane drops our little crew in Bari, the site of a famously tragic battle lost in 1991. But revenge is sweet! After renting a motorized carriage, we escape the landing zone and head to our military base of operations: Ostuni, a strategic little town where we’ll set up camp for the next four days. Why Ostuni? First, for its central location, which lets us explore a region packed with must-see gems. Second, for its vibe and beauty, which have earned it quite the reputation. Perched high on a hill, the *città bianca* (the "White City") lives up to its nickname. It literally dazzles visitors. The reason? The whitewashed facades of its houses, a testament to the region’s rich architectural heritage.





We arrived late last night, so only the two bravest soldiers volunteered to scout ahead at dawn, while the younger recruits stayed behind—for now. But not for long! After the first wave of streets and the next round of exploration, headquarters made the inevitable call to retreat. Reinforcements were needed! A few strategic errands, a breakfast ration, and our battalion marched in tight formation, flag held high, to conquer Ostuni the White! *Charge!* In my squadron leader’s memoirs, I’ll write that I didn’t expect Ostuni to put up such a fight. What I thought would take two hours to conquer turned into a humbling experience—we could only bow in respect to its beauty, its relentless charm. The alleys are whiter, more labyrinthine, narrower, and more photogenic than the last. *Veni, vidi, vici*—but what an entrance, my troops!

For once, given the destination, the author can’t set aside their religious beliefs, which inevitably shape this kind of journey.

The Trip

Early in the morning at Orly Airport, in the departure lounge for Tel Aviv, a group of about forty young men arrives, all looking identical! The same neatly trimmed beards, the same identical haircuts, the same outfits with a touch of whimsy… The effect of seeing these forty “clones” is striking and raises questions! Why such perfect uniformity among this group of guys? Do they belong to the same family, sports club, cultural association, or religious group? A mystery! At the same time, the waiting area fills up with men who are more expected, given our destination: they wear large felt hats and dress in black suits with white shirts—Hassidim? The ones I’ve glimpsed fleetingly in Paris or New York, who have always been a mystery to me. More discreet-looking women accompany them.

I’m already in Israel without even setting foot there! Plus, I witness the preparations for an improvised show.

The “clones” start a flash mob at seven in the morning in a Paris airport departure lounge! Some pull out musical instruments, others begin singing and dancing. A music with strange, unfamiliar sounds enchants the waiting passengers.

The flight crew finally arrives, cutting through the flash mob, bringing us back to the reality of the moment: waiting to take off soon for this so troubling and mysterious Middle East. We go through passport control, presenting our faces to the scanners that operate the exit gate. The group of “identical” young men gets held up by the system: logically, a scanner let the first one through but blocked the second because of his perfect resemblance to the first. To the machine, the same person shouldn’t be able to cross the border twice? But eventually, the whole group makes it through the glass doors, leaving the Republic behind. My simplistic explanation is left looking ridiculous.

At every new destination, I ask myself countless questions, revealing a certain anxiety tied to the unknown: fear of attacks (one just happened at a bus station in Jerusalem), possible police pressure, unexpected events. Israel isn’t known for being a relaxing destination. In reality, if I did face a serious difficulty in this country, it wasn’t one I had anticipated—and it wasn’t particularly tied to Israel!

I take my seat by the window, which is already occupied by a little girl. Her father, a Hassidic man, politely asks if I’d be willing to give up my seat for his daughter. I tell him I’d be happy to make her happy. Seeing me masked, he asks if I’d like him and his daughter to wear masks too. In response, I take off my mask so as not to impose any constraints on them and wish them a good flight.

It was the first time I’d approached and spoken to a Hassidic man. He didn’t speak the way I might have expected after watching *Rabbi Jacob* with Louis de Funès; he spoke perfectly without an accent, just like you and me! Beware of stereotypes! Throughout the flight, I sneak glances at my strange neighbor: he prayed silently without stopping for a minute. His daughter, as good as gold, never interrupted him. He used several religious accessories during his three-hour continuous prayer: a kippa, a prayer shawl, and a rosary?… I left that plane deeply impressed, me, who has a very distant relationship with my Creator and only prays now and then.

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.

Hi there,

I’ve got a bit of time to share my latest Cape Town – Cape Town trip... A fairly short itinerary, but it was just before heading to Kruger for an extension. In May... Honestly, I’d usually recommend a different time to visit CT—I’ve been there in August, September, and October before. But as they say, "Do as I say, not as I do" or "Only fools never change their minds." Why? Whale season peaks from August to October... and seeing whales right by the shore or breaching out of the water is absolutely spectacular. The end-of-year holiday period—take this year, for example—can get absolutely packed, with beaches closed due to overcrowding, etc. June and July are freezing (for me)... early August isn’t always great either. That said, 2024 saw a September-October with rain, cold, and fog like never before. The Postberg section of West Coast National Park (WCNP) is only open in August and September. Flower season is roughly from mid-August to mid-September.

So, May... The weather? Gorgeous (lucky me!). The route... Not super original (I’ve done it before, though it’s been a while). I didn’t go too far from CT because I prefer slow travel. Cape Town – Langebaan (for WCNP, again) – Cederberg (at Mountain Ceder, again) – Bontebok NP (new to me, and on the way) – De Hoop NR (at De Hoop) – Agulhas NP – Boulders (for Boulders Beach and the peninsula, again and again).

The trip started off badly due to storms in Frankfurt... My overnight flight was delayed until the next day, but via Amsterdam, so a daytime flight instead. A bit stressful, but Lufthansa and KLM handled it well. Now it was my turn to sort things out... "Well, I need you to keep the car for me... I’m arriving tonight!" (aroundaboutcars, a Chinese Haval, blue and 4x4—though I didn’t actually need the 4x4... which waited for me).



"Well, I need you to keep my room for me... I’m arriving *very* late tonight." A hotel perfectly located by the lagoon, right by the gates of WCNP, but still close to Langebaan and its restaurants. I spotted it myself and booked it during Black Friday...





Yep, what was normally a short 1.5-hour drive *in daylight* from the Mother City to Langebaan... was now *at night*. And here I am, usually the one telling people, "Don’t drive at night, folks!" Well, I know the route, and Google won’t let me get lost... until Langebaan, that is. The last few kilometers were rough—"Don’t they put up signs? Don’t they have streetlights?"

Alright, it’s late, the day’s been long—time for bed! !

You can post your personal photos in the following thread: https://voyageforum.com/forum/quelque-part-en-thailande-d10655574/

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.

April 11 – Day 1

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...

...

" We’re ALL different, and so are our expectations when it comes to travel or leisure ". There are—without a doubt—as many ways to experience a trip as there are travelers!! For the two of us, it’s only our love of wild nature that guides us to East Africa. The stated goal of this trip was purely wildlife-focused, and NOT about discovering the country or its people.

...

Hello everyone,

Previously, I shared the account of a trip/safari in southern Tanzania in June 2024, in the Mikumi and Selous reserves.

This time, still in southern Tanzania, I invite you to join us in Ruaha National Park. (Then, depending on the number of images allowed in my quota, at the end of my story, we’ll return to Selous for the second part of the same trip.)

- This trip/safari took place in November 2022. - Our flight started in Marseille, heading to Addis Ababa, then Dar es Salaam (via Ethiopian Airlines). In Dar, we spent one night at a hotel near the airfield.

-1- During the layover in Addis Ababa. The Airbus A-350 in the early morning mist.



Reminder: Click on each image to enlarge it, if needed. .

From Dar es Salaam, if you want to go by road to Ruaha, it’ll take a very long and tiring day. 🤪

On previous trips, we’ve always taken a bush plane for this route. In this case, it took just over an hour and a half, with two short intermediate stops to drop off passengers at other bush airstrips.

Since I’m also passionate about aviation, I love these flights where you can admire the landscapes from low altitude while sitting right behind the pilot 🙂.

-2- These routes mainly use Cessna 208 Caravans.



At the Msembe airstrip, we’re greeted around 1:30 PM by a guide and a driver from our chosen lodge. They brought a picnic basket, which we enjoy at a nearby picnic area. We’re by the Ruaha River, completely dry—it’s scorching hot.

-3- The first mammals we encounter are a pair of female impalas, accompanied by a young male.



Reminder: Click on the image to view it in larger size. 😉

-4- To save the hippopotamus populations from certain death, rangers had to dig holes in the sand with bulldozers. Fortunately, water is present beneath the sand layer.



-5- This crocodile doesn’t seem to have been accepted as a swimming neighbor by the hippos...



We’ll explore along the river for 2-3 hours before crossing it at a ford toward the southern part of the reserve.

-6- The typical landscape of Ruaha, with its many baobabs.



-7- My buddy the R.L.B. is also here to welcome me.... 🙂 🙂



-8- As well as this little bee-eater... 😎



-9- ...which reminds us of the origin of its name...!



-10- Above a rare waterhole, a fish eagle keeps watch for fish...



...

*** Please wait until the end of the story for any questions or to share your own experiences in Ruaha. (Or via PM.) Thanks in advance for keeping this account smooth and enjoyable. 😉

...

*** I’m not an ornithologist, but birds are an important and unavoidable part of safari discoveries. You’ll find quite a few in the images of my story. 😎

...

Hey fellow travelers!

This isn’t meant to be a full-on travel journal—just a little springtime dip into the Moroccan coast (and maybe a bit more if we click).

For our third trip to this country, we set off for 8 days in early June 2025, *sure* we’d be greeted by non-stop sunshine...



...and well, that didn’t happen! The gray stuck around for a day, then two, then three (while back home in the Landes, we had gorgeous sunshine 🤦‍♂️😂).

Now, unlike us, the Morocco experts here probably already know this, but apparently, it’s pretty common—especially in spring—when the warm air from inland meets the cool ocean breeze. Locals even have to warm up with hot water bottles, can you believe it? 😄!



And of course, it had to happen now, since our plan is to follow the coast from Essaouira to Mirleft!!

Oh well, we’ll see how it goes—but luckily, this first stunning sunset made up for the weather 🌅.



See you soon to anyone who’s up for it! 😊

The reopening of the forum is great news—let's keep it going! I’m going to share a little story about this 12-day trip, which was my second-to-last journey and my most recent one in Africa for now.

I went to this country for one very specific reason: to see two endemic animal species. A little suspense… you’ll find out what they are soon if you don’t already know!

The country is poor, very poor even. And it hits you even harder when you arrive in the capital: a massive open-air construction site that gives an impression of prosperity. A lot of roads were built by the Chinese, but to be honest, they’re far from perfect… and I mean *far*!

When it comes to restaurants, it’s pretty much the same story. Most offer endless menus, but in reality, there aren’t many choices. Once, I was flat-out told: “No rice today!” Ordering a dish? It’s a real gamble! The food is *very* spicy—I’m warning you, it’s intense! There’s chili in almost everything, so it’s best to ask beforehand if you don’t want your mouth on fire. Actually, this was the first time I didn’t like the food in a country I visited. Had to happen eventually, right?

Their national dish? Injera. A large flatbread topped with sauces, vegetables, and meat. The taste is really unique—some love it, others… not so much.

Well, here we go, despite the lack of info on Zambia, I managed to pull off this pretty special trip. I’d posted asking for tips but got very few replies. So I leaned heavily on Giradhino’s travel journal to plan the route.

The context: After visiting Kenya, then Namibia, then Botswana, I wanted to see another Southern African country—hence Zambia. This time, we’re two couples: us (of course) and our friends we’ve traveled with to the last two countries mentioned. The idea was to do a self-drive trip, picking up a 4x4 at the airport and figuring it out as we went.

We rented our fully equipped vehicle from Hemingways, an agency in Livingstone. Great agency (really), I’ll talk more about them later. It came with rooftop tents and all the gear for cooking and everything... However, our goal was to sleep in lodges and only use the tents as a last resort. Mission accomplished—we never even unfolded the tents. Guess we’re getting old 🙂

The route (summary): Lusaka - Kasanka NP - Bangweulu NP - Mutinondo - Kapishya - North Luangwa - South Luangwa and back to Lusaka.

That said, let’s hit the road for this travel journal of a pretty lively trip. Reminder: I’m more of a filmmaker, so I’ve got tons of footage but very few photos. The ones I have were taken on my phone, so they’re not great quality. My wife’s the one who handles that side of things.

Day 1:

At 9 a.m. sharp (or close enough), we leave the Lyon area, heading to Paris CDG. Our flight’s at 9:30 p.m., but it’s a busy Saturday with holiday traffic, so we play it safe to avoid jams—especially since the Olympics (hosted in Paris, in case you didn’t know) are causing extra traffic issues.

We’re relaxed and happy to be on our way. The drive goes smoothly. We take the eastern route around Paris to reach a hotel with parking at a better price than the airport lots. We leave the car there, and a shuttle takes us to Terminal 2. Bad luck—we’re actually flying from Terminal 1! The transfer between terminals is quick, though, so no stress.

After the usual formalities (with Rwandair), we end up in the Duty Free.

A rare rant-free moment: Usually, I let off steam in my travel journals now and then, but this time it’s the opposite. I had a terrible memory of CDG and had been avoiding it for years. But this time—Olympics effect? A big change? What a pleasant surprise! The staff were plentiful and super friendly at every pre-flight step, making everything easier. Comfortable seats for waiting to board. Well done, CDG!

We buy Ricard, Jack Daniel’s, and Get 27 to handle any situation that might come up. We board on time, and that’s when our adventures with Rwandair really begin. Yep, the first hiccup!

We’d booked our tickets back in October and (since we don’t hold back!) had paid extra for preferred seats on all our flights. Since October, we’d received emails about schedule changes—just a few minutes here and there. Unfortunately, we never got an email saying that *on top of* the schedule change, the plane’s configuration had also changed. So when we boarded with our seats (all four of us together at row 25), we were furious to see that the preferred seats were now row 23. We’d been *completely* scammed. We’d paid extra to end up in seats we’d been trying to avoid! You could say Rwandair double-dipped on the same seats. What a rip-off! We tried to negotiate an upgrade, but the flight was full. So our flight to Kigali started with a real sense of anger.

The +: We’re on our way The -: Rwandair

Back from a week in the Algarve.

The goal was to get some fresh air, walk at a relaxed pace (80 km in 6 days), and visit friends.

Transavia flight: No issues YorCar rental: No issues (and cheap) B&B 1: Quinta do Mocho Turismo Rural in Estoy: Good, even if a bit remote B&B 2: Casa Luma B&B in Lagos: Disappointed (and really disappointed with room #3)

Day 1: Flight, rental car, stop at São Lourenço in Almancil, and visit to Loulé Day 2: Olhão, walk at Praia do Barril, Tavira, and evening in Faro’s old town (park at São Francisco parking lot) Day 3: Walk on the boardwalks at Quinto do Ludo, Falesia beaches, Carvoeiro Day 4: The boardwalks in Alvor, Praia da Rocha in Portimão, Ferragudo, and the boardwalks around Algar Seco Day 5: Ponta da Piedade in Lagos, walk to Praia de Luz from Praia Camilho Day 6: Burgau, Cape Sagres, Cape St. Vincent, Carrapateira, and Praia da Bordeira Day 7: "Sete Vales Suspensos" hike from Marinha Beach

Our highlights: - The Vincentine Coast (Carrapateira), much nicer than the concrete of the southern coast - The fish restaurants and Cataplana (A Barrigada in Lagos, Ribeira do Poço in Vila do Bispo...) - The boardwalks everywhere (Quinto do Ludo, Alvor, Algar Seco...) - The sun on the cliffs and Falesia Beach (it’s the local Bryce Canyon) - Chatting with the fishermen perched on the cliffs of Carrapateira - The weather (we were lucky for early March)

Our disappointments: - The towns and villages (Tavira and Lagos stand out) - The traffic off the highway - The English, the English, and more English everywhere

Just back from a week on Nosy Boraha, better known as Île Sainte-Marie. Mostly on Île aux Nattes, actually, at the very south of the island—literally just a few hundred meters from Sainte-Marie’s airport. Far east of Madagascar, and if you keep going straight, you’ll hit Australia.

We flew in through that airport to avoid a long, rough road trip before and after Tamatave, plus a boat ride that could be short or long (boat time was inversely proportional to the bus ride to the port for the Sainte-Marie ferry). No issues with Tsaradia—departures and returns were on time, service was impeccable, and the ATR plane was smooth. Too bad the prices are so high. We managed a change due to a delayed Kenya Airways flight.

First, we stayed in the northern half, on the west coast of the island, at Natiora Green Lodge. The place is absolutely stunning—a little cove opening onto a small bay dotted with rocky outcrops under lush vegetation. The bungalows are practically on the beach, in a gorgeous, forested setting alive with birdsong. It’s the perfect spot for a pirate crew and just begs for daydreaming. No reef barrier, so it gets deep pretty quickly, but the rocks have healthy coral and plenty of small fish. Great snorkeling—we even saw a turtle. Really, really nice. The only downside is that it’s a bit far from the island’s center and kinda isolated, so eating anywhere but the hotel or going for a walk without a rental car or tuk-tuk is tricky. Not impossible, but harder than if you’re somewhere livelier.

Next, we moved to Île aux Nattes at Baboo Village, which overlooks the channel between Nosy Boraha and Nosy Nato. The bungalows are right on the water, nicely and simply decorated, with a restaurant and terrace right next door. You get to the hotel directly by pirogue from Sainte-Marie’s "embarcadère"—it takes 2-3 minutes, or a little longer if the motor’s acting up. The owner is super friendly and welcoming, with a relaxed, "family/friendly" vibe. There are often a few lemurs in the hotel’s park, adding life to the place, and the vegetation is beautiful once again. The path that circles the island starts right at the hotel entrance, making it easy to reach the island’s dock and the different beaches on the west, east, or even south. Several restaurants are within walking distance, and nothing’s far by pirogue anyway. You can also find the island’s "center" with a few small shops for basic supplies or a meal at a hotely. Since there’s no electricity on the island, the generator at the hotel runs from 6 PM to 10 PM, but you can charge your phone anytime by leaving it at reception. Kayaks are free to use and great for exploring—the whole island is doable, even if you’re not an expert. Just take your time. The upside of Île aux Nattes and Sainte-Marie’s east coast is the reef barrier and lagoon (unlike the west side), which means those gorgeous water colors, accessible coral, and shallow swimming spots. The only downside of Baboo for me, since I love snorkeling, is its location right on the channel. Personally, I prefer the south side of Île aux Nattes (near the Aurora) or the east side (like Kintana) for the lagoon views and easier snorkeling (though my wife didn’t agree). But as I said, those spots are still super easy to reach from Baboo. The west side’s okay, but I like it less—except for the view of Madagascar and the sunset. Again, totally subjective.

On Sainte-Marie, we didn’t try any restaurants other than Natiora’s. Not a ton of options, but it was fine. We weren’t fans of Chez Nono in Baie d’Ampanihy—overpriced for the tiny portions. Sure, the crab was good, but there was so little of it for the price. A bit of a rip-off, since crabs are everywhere and can’t cost much for Nono. On Île aux Nattes, there are plenty of little restaurants. We tried three—Chez Adelaide, La Buvette, and Coco Sud—and every time, we had fish or seafood, and it was always good and generous, with great achards. Prices were very reasonable.

Of course, we soaked up the time, the light, the beauty of the place, the sounds, the smells... just chilling in full *tranquillou billou* mode.

We also did some activities. Snorkeling—I’ll come back to it. In 2019, I thought it was a disaster, with no nice spots and really disappointing. This year, I jumped in everywhere I could and tested spots I’d spotted on Maps or during my last trip. And it was *really* good. Mostly on Île aux Nattes: the south side near the sacred islet, west in front of Kintana, west north of the channel (especially the sand islets), and on Sainte-Marie at Natiora’s rocks. Lots of healthy coral and plenty of fish typical of the area. If you’re into big fish, this isn’t the place, but if you love coral and little critters, it’s awesome. Snorkeling outside the reef was disappointing again, and diving was too. Unless you get lucky, it’s not worth it, in my opinion.

The tour of Île aux Nattes with a meal included was great—perfect for taking breaks whenever you find a pretty spot to snorkel or just relax on a nice beach.

A trip to the sand islets was also really fun. You can’t stay long because it gets super hot, and you’re at the mercy of the tides. There’s a good flock of terns that probably nest there. The coral reefs on the east side of the islet are gorgeous. Really, really nice. Plus, the islets themselves are just stunning.

We chose to go to Ampanihy via the lagoon, hugging the shore—it’s beautiful, with amazing colors, a wilder coastline than the west, and views of seaweed farms. It’s a long trip, though, and at Ampanihy, there’s a pretty beach (but there are tons elsewhere) and a nice mangrove. Maybe it’s better to go by road to the bay and take a boat to explore the lagoon and stop somewhere without going all the way to Ampanihy, saving yourself 2 hours of boat time round-trip. Once there, you can take a little pirogue tour to the beach and through the mangrove. The way we did it, the trip wasn’t essential. As I said, Chez Nono was disappointing—bring a picnic or try Chez Samson instead.

Of course, we visited the pirate cemetery, a place I love even though there’s not much left to see—just a few graves, unfortunately, and some vandalism. The site is still magical, though, and you can let your thoughts drift with La Buse and William Kidd, who passed through here.

We organized all our outings with Crépin, who runs two small boats with his brother. We met him totally by chance, but we don’t regret it. We could adjust the trips based on what we wanted—where to stop or which spot to visit next—and Crépin handled the meals. Prices were super affordable for a full day. I can share his number if you want. We didn’t try anyone else, but I’m sure there are other great operators—I just can’t compare or recommend.

Good prep for anyone looking for an alternative to Nosy Be. Way fewer activities, sure, but also way fewer people and a really nice vibe on Sainte-Marie in general, and Île aux Nattes in particular. The beaches are more beautiful than Nosy Be’s, and there’s a reef and lagoon (it *is* the pirate island, after all). And in whale season, well, the whales.

All in all, a great place to stay for a trip.