Hi there!
As mentioned in a previous post, we're heading to Morocco in April for 9 days instead of the originally planned 7.
Here's the itinerary I've mapped out to ideally have a complete trip, but I think it might be too ambitious. What do you think?
Here's the itinerary (click)
For those who can't open the link:
Marrakech (the afternoon of our arrival + 1 day, we’ve already been there without the kids, the goal is not to stay too long) – night
Aït Ben Haddou
Ouarzazate
Skoura – night
Oasis de Fint
Dadès Gorges
Tinghir – night
Merzouga – night
Zagora – night
M’hamid – ideally a night in the desert
Agdz
Marrakech – night (itinerary via Telouet)
What do you think of this plan? Will it feel too rushed, or is it manageable?
Since we don’t know the places, it’s hard to tell if we’ll want to stop everywhere along the way or if there’s enough time to spend at each spot.
I’ve included some night-stop assumptions (1 or 2 nights).
We’d love to hear your thoughts!
We’re traveling with my wife, a 13-year-old teen, and a 10-year-old.
We’ll have our own rental car.
Thanks! !
Bonjour,
Comme souvent je traine sur internet et je tombe sur un blog de voyage sur l'Amerique du sud. Je ne lis même plus les récits, je me contente de regarder les photos. Puis comme il y a des liens vers d'autres blogs, je clique dessus.
Après une dizaine de blogs je me rend compte qu'ils sont quasiment tous identiques, ce sont les même circuits, les même photos, limite les même récits.
Ce qui est amusant c'est que tous les blogueurs (et on en croise souvent maintenant) essayent de se démarquer en faisant les même itinéraires ce qui devient vite lassant.
A titre personnel, je trouve qu'on arrive a une overdose de blogs, vidéos, conseils au point qu'il n' y a quasiment plus de surprise pour le voyageur qui arrive dans un autre pays.
Je me rappelle lors de mon premier grand voyage en Australie qui avait au final duré 2 ans, c’était en 2008, j'avais juste le lonely planet Australie que j'avais parcouru avant de partir. A l’époque je n'avais pas de compte facebook et ne savait même pas que les blogs de voyages existaient, eh bien quel émerveillement lors de mon arrivée a Darwin.
Aujourd'hui avec la masse de photos, blogs, vidéos de voyage je trouve que ce premier sentiment risque d’être casser, puisque, pour ceux qui regardent tous ça eh bien tout est connu a l'avance ou presque.
Et vous amis voyageurs, que pensez vous de cette "mode" des blogs et autres films de voyage?
Hello,
After 20 years of operation and a 4-year hiatus, we were happy to rediscover this forum following its acquisition by Myatlas.
At the very beginning of the adventure, there was a section allowing members to share their ideas—good or bad, feasible or not—with the team in charge to help perfect the forum.
So, to help VoyageForum regain its momentum and adapt to new audiences and a new environment, why not put our heads together and suggest some improvement ideas in this thread?
I’ll get the ball rolling!
Travel journals are limited to 300 photos because photo storage is expensive. This limitation is completely understandable, and Myatlas found a solution by offering a paid subscription for those who wanted to exceed the free photo limit. Maybe this approach could be adapted here? Limiting without offering an alternative is a reason members leave.
After 20 years of operation and a 4-year hiatus, we were happy to rediscover this forum following its acquisition by Myatlas.
At the very beginning of the adventure, there was a section allowing members to share their ideas—good or bad, feasible or not—with the team in charge to help perfect the forum.
So, to help VoyageForum regain its momentum and adapt to new audiences and a new environment, why not put our heads together and suggest some improvement ideas in this thread?
I’ll get the ball rolling!
Travel journals are limited to 300 photos because photo storage is expensive. This limitation is completely understandable, and Myatlas found a solution by offering a paid subscription for those who wanted to exceed the free photo limit. Maybe this approach could be adapted here? Limiting without offering an alternative is a reason members leave.
Bonjour,
Suite aux réflexions posées sur mon premier grand voyage (qui se termine d'ici 15 jours) mais aussi après la lecture d'un article partagé sur fb, je me pose énormément de questions sur la façon dont nous voyageons, dont notre "génération" voyage. Ne voyage-t-elle pas pour faire sensation sur Instagram ?
Je pense qu'il y a du juste là-dedans mais également du faux, car il restera toujours des voyageurs, des aventuriers qui partent à la découverte du monde pour leur propre expérience, leur propre bien-être et non pas pour s'exposer sur Internet.
Le vrai là-dedans est que de plus en plus de jeunes voyageurs voyagent pour faire des photos sensationnelles, montrer une vie "trop cool", parce que le voyage est devenu une mode.
Est-ce que j'en fais partie ? Est-ce que vous en faites partie ?
Je dois vous avouer qu'avant de partir je ne me posais même pas la question, je suis partie pour voyager, pour découvrir le monde, pour trouver des réponses, des questionnements. Puis petit à petit je me suis laissée prendre au jeu des "belles photos instagram" parce que j'ai commencé à suivre de plus en plus de voyageurs sur cette plateforme. Mais désormais je me demande à quoi tout ça rime ?
Cette nouvelle façon de voyager s'empare de bcp personnes et modifie notre rapport au monde, notre façon de le voir et de le vivre.
J'avais simplement envie d'ouvrir une telle discussion, de partager avec certains mes réflexions et opinions. N'hésitez pas à me donner votre avis, sans jugement, sans critique et sans pression. Je ne souhaite pas faire polémique mais je pense que c'est une discussion actuelle et j'avais envie d'avoir des opinions.
Merci ! A bientôt
J'avais simplement envie d'ouvrir une telle discussion, de partager avec certains mes réflexions et opinions. N'hésitez pas à me donner votre avis, sans jugement, sans critique et sans pression. Je ne souhaite pas faire polémique mais je pense que c'est une discussion actuelle et j'avais envie d'avoir des opinions.
Merci ! A bientôt
This trip had been on my mind for about fifteen years.
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rental options kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!
The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan? Not in the end.
The south or not the south? Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or go with the flow? Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela about this destination (the guide has been updated since).
---/---
You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek! (Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
You’ll find here a post with some practical information.
And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.
---/---
As a supplement, the route track. Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...
From Bishkek to Karakol:
From Karakol to Kochkor:
From Kochkor to Baetov:
From Baetov to Kara-Köl:
From Kara-Köl to Bishkek:
But the discomfort of overnight stays, the difficulty of communication, and the prices of the few car rental options kept making me postpone the project.
And then, everything suddenly fell into place—I told myself, it’s time!
The preparations took longer than usual; the destination is still far from mainstream.
A bit of Kazakhstan? Not in the end.
The south or not the south? Yes, in the end.
Pre-book or go with the flow? Only two stops were a leap into the unknown.
To help me find the ideal route, I made great use of this forum (thanks to everyone for patiently answering my questions!), pored over travel journals and blogs (Christian, Jeff), zoomed in on Google Maps and Yandex, and bought the guide published by OunTravela about this destination (the guide has been updated since).
---/---
You’ve got your passport, international driver’s license, bank cards, and euros?
Off we go to Lyon—just one night left before our early morning flight.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be sleeping in Bishkek! (Steak for my partner’s mischievous nephews...)
You’ll find here a post with some practical information.
And here, the version of the travel journal without comments.
---/---
As a supplement, the route track. Not necessarily ultra-accurate since Google has serious gaps for this destination...
From Bishkek to Karakol:
From Karakol to Kochkor:
From Kochkor to Baetov:
From Baetov to Kara-Köl:
From Kara-Köl to Bishkek:
This first trip of 2025 will have the taste of Asia.
More precisely, Thailand!
It’s not my first time—I’ve often traveled across Southeast Asia between 2000 and 2015. (This travel journal, for example...)
But it’ll be my partner’s first steps in this part of the world.
The itinerary we’ve chosen will alternate between familiar sights for me and new discoveries for both of us.
I’ll get to see how the country has changed in 20 years—and what’s stayed the same!
We were torn between the north and the south of the kingdom. Fears of smoke from slash-and-burn farming and a desire to relax on the sand tipped the scales toward the south...
What if we rented a car?
I think driving in sprawling Bangkok would be a bit ambitious, so we’ll only book our vehicle from Hua Hin to return it in Surat Thani.
Other transportation will range from tuk-tuks to overnight trains and ride-hailing services.
And of course, the plane!
I’d love to travel from Auvergne to Bangkok by road, but 15 days wouldn’t be enough...
Plus, the current geopolitical situation isn’t exactly favorable...
So, once again, we’ll be stuck for hours in the less-than-comfortable economy class of Qatar Airways.
The arrival time was on schedule, entry formalities were quick, and all our luggage made it.
We left Lyon in wind and cold—now we’re breathing in the warm, humid air of กรุงเทพมหานคร.
To reach our hotel, we first took the metro, which dropped us off in the city center in about 30 minutes for the incredible price of 1.18 €.
A few taps on the GRAB app, and we booked a ride-hailing service for the last few kilometers.
We waited a while for our driver due to insane traffic in the area, but once in the 4x4, we were at our lodging in no time.
We chose this small hotel for its riverside location, tranquility, and price.
It’ll do the job perfectly—the only downside is the weak breakfast.
The room is inviting, and we collapse onto the bed for a well-deserved short nap.
Wake-up call in an hour for our first visits!
See you soon...
More precisely, Thailand!
It’s not my first time—I’ve often traveled across Southeast Asia between 2000 and 2015. (This travel journal, for example...)
But it’ll be my partner’s first steps in this part of the world.
The itinerary we’ve chosen will alternate between familiar sights for me and new discoveries for both of us.
I’ll get to see how the country has changed in 20 years—and what’s stayed the same!
We were torn between the north and the south of the kingdom. Fears of smoke from slash-and-burn farming and a desire to relax on the sand tipped the scales toward the south...
What if we rented a car?
I think driving in sprawling Bangkok would be a bit ambitious, so we’ll only book our vehicle from Hua Hin to return it in Surat Thani.
Other transportation will range from tuk-tuks to overnight trains and ride-hailing services.
And of course, the plane!
I’d love to travel from Auvergne to Bangkok by road, but 15 days wouldn’t be enough...
Plus, the current geopolitical situation isn’t exactly favorable...
So, once again, we’ll be stuck for hours in the less-than-comfortable economy class of Qatar Airways.
The arrival time was on schedule, entry formalities were quick, and all our luggage made it.
We left Lyon in wind and cold—now we’re breathing in the warm, humid air of กรุงเทพมหานคร.
To reach our hotel, we first took the metro, which dropped us off in the city center in about 30 minutes for the incredible price of 1.18 €.
A few taps on the GRAB app, and we booked a ride-hailing service for the last few kilometers.
We waited a while for our driver due to insane traffic in the area, but once in the 4x4, we were at our lodging in no time.
We chose this small hotel for its riverside location, tranquility, and price.
It’ll do the job perfectly—the only downside is the weak breakfast.
The room is inviting, and we collapse onto the bed for a well-deserved short nap.
Wake-up call in an hour for our first visits!
See you soon...
Hey there, community! Back this weekend, below is my travel journal from my adventure in Indonesia. Enjoy the read!!!
Day 1 - August 10, 2025 New life downloading for three weeks! And for that, Flo and I launched a public tender... A public tender? What’s that got to do with a travel journal???... Well, when you think about it, few destinations tick all the boxes for an August adventure: Meaning, finding a place that’s exotic in the middle of August, not too expensive, not too packed with tourists, warm but not *too* warm, with postcard-perfect landscapes, dreamy beaches, tasty cuisine with a hint of exoticism, friendly and welcoming locals, where you’re free to sleep under the stars among the mosquitos, take transport surrounded by chickens, and even eat from a pig trough if you feel like it—well, turns out it’s not that easy to find! I’d even say, given how thick the list of requirements is, there’s a big risk the tender could be declared unsuccessful for failing to meet just one criterion. Let’s just say the candidates better submit a rock-solid proposal!
After reviewing all the responses and presentations from the candidates, the obvious choice for us is... Indonesia! Except that trying to explore a country as vast as Indonesia and its 17,504 islands in less than five years is a bit like reading the summary of a Proust novel without taking the time to savor each of its 950 pages! Don’t worry, I won’t name them all here. Besides, do they even all have names? No! Only 7,870 have been named—their parents clearly ran out of ideas for the rest. Anyway, our society, which worships the "work more to earn more" mantra, unfortunately limits our adventure time. So we’ll only get to see a small part of Indonesia, and we’ll have to make a tough choice to head for the best of the best in this archipelago of over seventeen thousand islands. Each one has its own selling points: Sumatra, Sulawesi, Java, the Celebes, Bali, Borneo, Papua, Timor, the Moluccas... So many names that smell of adventure... Another tender, another list of requirements, another review of proposals... Drumroll... Splash splash... And the lucky winner is... Ta-da... Java, Bali’s big sister, where I’ve already been eight years ago... Java the programming language. The Java of Broadway. We’re gonna *do* the Java. Java the coffee. And yes, Java is also an island!
This island, four times smaller than France, is home to 136 million people, making it the most populated island in the world! Fun fact: Indonesia, with its 260 million inhabitants, is just shy of the podium for the world’s most populated countries, after the winning trio of India, China, and the United States. And it’s on this island of Java that you’ll find Jakarta, the (soon-to-be-former) capital and main airport of the country, where we’ll soon land after our nineteen-hour flight! Yep, nineteen hours! I mean, Indonesia in general—and Java in particular—is a *tad* farther than going on vacation to Grandma Yoyo’s! Not sure where it is? Easy. Grab a map. Plant your finger on the big island at the bottom right—aka Australia for those who struggle with geography—move it up two centimeters, and bam, welcome to Indonesia!
Nice transition, right? Because "Welcome to Indonesia" is exactly what the friendly flight attendant just said to me as we got off the plane! That’s it, our chakras are open, we’ve arrived at our (air)port. Time for rest, pool, cocktails, and a beach with our toes spread out... Wait, if you bought that, you clearly don’t know us yet! Since we still have energy to burn and need to adjust to the flight and time difference, we tackle the long administrative formalities to enter Indonesia, just to earn the right to hop in a 45-minute Grab taxi to the train station. The train station? What train station?... What do you usually do at a train station? Take a train, of course! Off we go for a three-hour train ride to Bandung, where we’ll officially start our adventure tomorrow after our first Indonesian night...
Unfortunately, we were a bit slow off the mark, which meant we missed the 6:25 PM train by two minutes. Oh well, we’ll have to wait until 11 PM. We take the opportunity to stretch our legs in Jakarta, soak up the atmosphere, and enjoy the delicious smells wafting from the *warungs*—those little typical street restaurants. A quick stop at the National Monument, a detour to a night market to devour our first *kwetiaw goreng* and *teh manis* for 60,000 rupiahs (that’s 3 € for two), and just like that, our penalty is lifted, and we’re allowed to hit the road again. Off to Bandung, where we arrive at 2 AM for... a *very* short night...
Day 1 - August 10, 2025 New life downloading for three weeks! And for that, Flo and I launched a public tender... A public tender? What’s that got to do with a travel journal???... Well, when you think about it, few destinations tick all the boxes for an August adventure: Meaning, finding a place that’s exotic in the middle of August, not too expensive, not too packed with tourists, warm but not *too* warm, with postcard-perfect landscapes, dreamy beaches, tasty cuisine with a hint of exoticism, friendly and welcoming locals, where you’re free to sleep under the stars among the mosquitos, take transport surrounded by chickens, and even eat from a pig trough if you feel like it—well, turns out it’s not that easy to find! I’d even say, given how thick the list of requirements is, there’s a big risk the tender could be declared unsuccessful for failing to meet just one criterion. Let’s just say the candidates better submit a rock-solid proposal!
After reviewing all the responses and presentations from the candidates, the obvious choice for us is... Indonesia! Except that trying to explore a country as vast as Indonesia and its 17,504 islands in less than five years is a bit like reading the summary of a Proust novel without taking the time to savor each of its 950 pages! Don’t worry, I won’t name them all here. Besides, do they even all have names? No! Only 7,870 have been named—their parents clearly ran out of ideas for the rest. Anyway, our society, which worships the "work more to earn more" mantra, unfortunately limits our adventure time. So we’ll only get to see a small part of Indonesia, and we’ll have to make a tough choice to head for the best of the best in this archipelago of over seventeen thousand islands. Each one has its own selling points: Sumatra, Sulawesi, Java, the Celebes, Bali, Borneo, Papua, Timor, the Moluccas... So many names that smell of adventure... Another tender, another list of requirements, another review of proposals... Drumroll... Splash splash... And the lucky winner is... Ta-da... Java, Bali’s big sister, where I’ve already been eight years ago... Java the programming language. The Java of Broadway. We’re gonna *do* the Java. Java the coffee. And yes, Java is also an island!
This island, four times smaller than France, is home to 136 million people, making it the most populated island in the world! Fun fact: Indonesia, with its 260 million inhabitants, is just shy of the podium for the world’s most populated countries, after the winning trio of India, China, and the United States. And it’s on this island of Java that you’ll find Jakarta, the (soon-to-be-former) capital and main airport of the country, where we’ll soon land after our nineteen-hour flight! Yep, nineteen hours! I mean, Indonesia in general—and Java in particular—is a *tad* farther than going on vacation to Grandma Yoyo’s! Not sure where it is? Easy. Grab a map. Plant your finger on the big island at the bottom right—aka Australia for those who struggle with geography—move it up two centimeters, and bam, welcome to Indonesia!
Nice transition, right? Because "Welcome to Indonesia" is exactly what the friendly flight attendant just said to me as we got off the plane! That’s it, our chakras are open, we’ve arrived at our (air)port. Time for rest, pool, cocktails, and a beach with our toes spread out... Wait, if you bought that, you clearly don’t know us yet! Since we still have energy to burn and need to adjust to the flight and time difference, we tackle the long administrative formalities to enter Indonesia, just to earn the right to hop in a 45-minute Grab taxi to the train station. The train station? What train station?... What do you usually do at a train station? Take a train, of course! Off we go for a three-hour train ride to Bandung, where we’ll officially start our adventure tomorrow after our first Indonesian night...
Unfortunately, we were a bit slow off the mark, which meant we missed the 6:25 PM train by two minutes. Oh well, we’ll have to wait until 11 PM. We take the opportunity to stretch our legs in Jakarta, soak up the atmosphere, and enjoy the delicious smells wafting from the *warungs*—those little typical street restaurants. A quick stop at the National Monument, a detour to a night market to devour our first *kwetiaw goreng* and *teh manis* for 60,000 rupiahs (that’s 3 € for two), and just like that, our penalty is lifted, and we’re allowed to hit the road again. Off to Bandung, where we arrive at 2 AM for... a *very* short night...
Salut à tous,
j'ai besoin de votre aide pour la recherche d'un hotel ou auberge de jeunesse pour 24 personnes.
Critères:
pas cher
bien placé (londres)
C'est très urgent!! Merci d'avance.
C'est très urgent!! Merci d'avance.
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! 😊
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! 😊
Hi,
Right now, with the war raging in Iran and affecting all the neighboring countries of the Persian Gulf, many airports are completely closed to all traffic.
Several airlines like Qatar Airways, Emirates, and others have almost completely halted their operations.
Whether in the Middle East or Africa, many travelers are stranded—maybe for a long time... A heartfelt thought for them and the struggles this will cause.
Four months ago, I was in Kenya with a flight booked through Qatar Airways... I can’t even imagine how I’d react if I were stuck there now. ??
Wishing all these travelers courage, patience, and success in making it back home.
...
Doha Airport on October 21, 2025:
...
Right now, with the war raging in Iran and affecting all the neighboring countries of the Persian Gulf, many airports are completely closed to all traffic.
Several airlines like Qatar Airways, Emirates, and others have almost completely halted their operations.
Whether in the Middle East or Africa, many travelers are stranded—maybe for a long time... A heartfelt thought for them and the struggles this will cause.
Four months ago, I was in Kenya with a flight booked through Qatar Airways... I can’t even imagine how I’d react if I were stuck there now. ??
Wishing all these travelers courage, patience, and success in making it back home.
...
Doha Airport on October 21, 2025:
...
Bonjour,
J'ai acheté il y a 4 jours un gravel croix de fer Genesis 20, que je me suis fait vélo hier !!! J'avoue avoir eu un coup de coeur pour ce vélo.... mais depuis ce vol je me suis mise à nouveau en quête de recherche car j'ai à nouveau comparé les prix et les équipements et à nouveau le doute plane. Le problème du croix de fer c'est la dimension du cadre il faut avoir un buste assez long pour avoir un minimum de confort ou alors raccourcir la potence mais le guidon devient nerveux et la tenue de route se dégrade selon avis d'expert ! Alors toutes les questions sont là pour un budget entre 1000 et 1500e grand max car l'assurance heureusement va me rembourser mais je vais perdre de billes ! : - cadre acier ou alu - choisir un cadre et faire monter son vélo // cadre ll city par exemple // - choix de la transition - choix des freins - pneu en 700 de quelle marque ? car il paraît qu'on ne fait pas assez attention aux pneus quand on achète son vélo alors que ce sont eux qui après le cadre offre une belle adhérence et confort route
déjà une bonne base si je pouvais avoir vos avis d'expert ....! voire quelques modèles en exemple ....
Bonne journée à tous, Anne
J'ai acheté il y a 4 jours un gravel croix de fer Genesis 20, que je me suis fait vélo hier !!! J'avoue avoir eu un coup de coeur pour ce vélo.... mais depuis ce vol je me suis mise à nouveau en quête de recherche car j'ai à nouveau comparé les prix et les équipements et à nouveau le doute plane. Le problème du croix de fer c'est la dimension du cadre il faut avoir un buste assez long pour avoir un minimum de confort ou alors raccourcir la potence mais le guidon devient nerveux et la tenue de route se dégrade selon avis d'expert ! Alors toutes les questions sont là pour un budget entre 1000 et 1500e grand max car l'assurance heureusement va me rembourser mais je vais perdre de billes ! : - cadre acier ou alu - choisir un cadre et faire monter son vélo // cadre ll city par exemple // - choix de la transition - choix des freins - pneu en 700 de quelle marque ? car il paraît qu'on ne fait pas assez attention aux pneus quand on achète son vélo alors que ce sont eux qui après le cadre offre une belle adhérence et confort route
déjà une bonne base si je pouvais avoir vos avis d'expert ....! voire quelques modèles en exemple ....
Bonne journée à tous, Anne
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!
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!
Another fresh travel journal!
The context: For my 60th birthday, I had planned to take my family (kids + partners) for a week in Gran Canaria, at an all-inclusive hotel, but with the firm intention of exploring and hiking. The deal was to meet up at least in the evenings to spend time together, if my pace didn’t suit them. Personally, I’m not into beaches and lazing around, but my daughter-in-law is pretty cool. We were going to be together, do what we liked, and all would be well. Unfortunately, five days before departure, my mother-in-law passed away, and of course, we had to cancel everything. I was able to get a refund for a lot of things, including the hotel despite missing the free cancellation deadline (really cool of them), and I got a one-year credit for the full price of the flight tickets. So, we tried to plan the same thing for my kids, but with their schedules, we couldn’t find a date. I had to find a destination served by Iberia, far enough to use up my credit. We don’t know the Caribbean, we needed sun and a bit of rest, so the Dominican Republic won out. But no way were we going to mess up by staying in an all-inclusive hotel and only visiting the island’s paradise beaches… (we’ll get back to that). So, as usual, I put together a little road trip with a rental car.
Here we go!!!!
Day 1: Crossing the Atlantic Super early departure for Lyon-Saint Exupéry Airport. A 3-hour layover in Madrid (my wife’s had enough of flight delays, so I played it safe). Flight to Santo Domingo without any issues. The luggage arrived, the driver I’d booked was there, everything went smoothly. We got to our hotel in the Zona Colonial around 4 PM. Bad luck—it’s on a cute little square where there was supposed to be neighborhood activity in the evening. It’s completely under construction! Too bad! We decided to head to the Malecón, a sort of local Promenade des Anglais, except there are no English people. It’s nice, safe, spacious, and by the ocean. We walked for a while, and as happy hour rolled around, I started my training as an intern in rum-based cocktails. A mojito, classic, but it’s amazing to be sipping the drink in the warmth, right by the big blue. On the way back to the hotel, we grabbed some bananas, ate them in the room, and then bedtime.
The plus: We actually left! The minus: There isn’t one
The context: For my 60th birthday, I had planned to take my family (kids + partners) for a week in Gran Canaria, at an all-inclusive hotel, but with the firm intention of exploring and hiking. The deal was to meet up at least in the evenings to spend time together, if my pace didn’t suit them. Personally, I’m not into beaches and lazing around, but my daughter-in-law is pretty cool. We were going to be together, do what we liked, and all would be well. Unfortunately, five days before departure, my mother-in-law passed away, and of course, we had to cancel everything. I was able to get a refund for a lot of things, including the hotel despite missing the free cancellation deadline (really cool of them), and I got a one-year credit for the full price of the flight tickets. So, we tried to plan the same thing for my kids, but with their schedules, we couldn’t find a date. I had to find a destination served by Iberia, far enough to use up my credit. We don’t know the Caribbean, we needed sun and a bit of rest, so the Dominican Republic won out. But no way were we going to mess up by staying in an all-inclusive hotel and only visiting the island’s paradise beaches… (we’ll get back to that). So, as usual, I put together a little road trip with a rental car.
Here we go!!!!
Day 1: Crossing the Atlantic Super early departure for Lyon-Saint Exupéry Airport. A 3-hour layover in Madrid (my wife’s had enough of flight delays, so I played it safe). Flight to Santo Domingo without any issues. The luggage arrived, the driver I’d booked was there, everything went smoothly. We got to our hotel in the Zona Colonial around 4 PM. Bad luck—it’s on a cute little square where there was supposed to be neighborhood activity in the evening. It’s completely under construction! Too bad! We decided to head to the Malecón, a sort of local Promenade des Anglais, except there are no English people. It’s nice, safe, spacious, and by the ocean. We walked for a while, and as happy hour rolled around, I started my training as an intern in rum-based cocktails. A mojito, classic, but it’s amazing to be sipping the drink in the warmth, right by the big blue. On the way back to the hotel, we grabbed some bananas, ate them in the room, and then bedtime.
The plus: We actually left! The minus: There isn’t one
“Slow travel” is a concept that some tout as a philosophical revolution in travel. But on closer inspection, it’s nothing more than a marketing repackaging of an age-old practice.
This term is wrapped in an aura of intellectualism. It promises to reinvent the experience of travel by valuing slowness, contemplation, and cultural immersion.
The term “slow travel” claims to bring depth to travel, but it often relies on clichés.
Taking your time, meeting locals, avoiding quick visits—these practices have always existed and are nothing revolutionary.
Before the era of airplanes, high-speed trains, and express stays, traveling necessarily meant taking your time. Pilgrims, merchants, and explorers already practiced a form of “slow travel,” without hashtags or self-proclaimed spiritual guides.
Crossing lands on foot or by horse required total immersion in the landscapes, cultures, and unpredictability of the journey. Yet, no one attributed philosophical intentions to them: it was a necessity.
Slow travel, in its current version, may be less a philosophy than a reflection of the contradictions of an affluent class searching for meaning in a world they help overload.
So-called “slow” travel is presented as a privileged way to understand a culture, but this claim is debatable. A region never represents an entire country.
Immersing yourself in a community doesn’t guarantee a complete or more authentic understanding than any other way of traveling.
Slowness in itself doesn’t guarantee depth or ethics. You can immerse yourself in a place over a weekend, just as you can spend months in a country without grasping its subtleties.
By positioning itself as an antidote to “fast” tourism, slow travel fetishizes a temporality that only makes sense if it’s accompanied by real openness and an effort to integrate.
But this over-intellectualization often masks a desire to belong to a trend or a need to stand out socially.
Behind this posture sometimes lies a whim: the urge to reinvent one’s life elsewhere in an idealized form. But this quest for elsewhere remains fundamentally a way to escape or respond to unease, rather than a true commitment to the cultures visited.
When we talk about “encounters” while traveling, we often forget that these exchanges are facilitated by biased contexts. As a traveler, you’re seen as a temporary visitor, unattached, and that changes the dynamic.
Locals, whether curious or used to tourists, adopt a different stance than they would with a neighbor they see daily.
This interaction is also tinged with asymmetry: the traveler has the luxury of time and availability, while in daily life, personal concerns often take precedence over the desire to connect.
The flip side is that the openness displayed while traveling is often a facade. We boast about chatting with a fisherman or sharing a meal with a local family, but how many of these encounters lead to a real understanding of cultural differences or sincere reflection?
Once home, these moments become anecdotes, social trophies to show off, without fundamentally changing our relationship with others in our daily lives.
By imposing a definition, we push people to adapt their practices to fit an idealized model. This can lead to a paradoxical standardization: “slow travel” becomes a checklist of behaviors (meetings, immersion, slowness).
The “bobos” (bourgeois-bohemians), often in search of meaning in a world saturated with options, believe that giving a name to a practice grants it legitimacy or moral value. But this obsession with framing and theorizing travel only drains it of its spontaneity.
Someone who grew up at the crossroads of multiple cultures, on the other hand, doesn’t feel this need. For them, traveling isn’t a philosophical project but an intrinsic part of their life.
The very concept of “slow travel” can seem absurd: why glorify what’s simply natural?
Why try to turn into an ideology what should be a personal, intimate experience, free from semantic constraints?
Ultimately, this need for labeling, this frantic quest to name every gesture, reveals a society craving simplicity.
Travel, in its purest form, doesn’t need justification or slogans. It doesn’t need slowness or speed: it’s simply lived.
Perhaps the real challenge is to unlearn this Western habit of conceptualizing everything that should simply be felt.
For many, travel is a parenthesis, a temporary break from daily life. But if we reject this distinction between “home” and “elsewhere,” every human life becomes a continuous journey through varied environments.
From this perspective, “slow travel” loses all meaning, because living somewhere—whether for a week or five years—is part of the same experience of adaptation.
So, we ask the fans of marketing slogans: is travel a parenthesis or a journey?
“Slow travel” is often driven by a Western eco-bobo ideology, tinged with post-colonial guilt. This discourse promotes a supposedly virtuous way of traveling while forgetting that these practices remain a privilege.
Far from deconstructing power dynamics, it sometimes reinforces them by glorifying a different kind of consumption, still centered on comfort.
There’s also a condescending side to this rhetoric. By idealizing slowness, slow travel advocates imply that those who travel quickly or on a budget are less “authentic” in their approach.
Yet, isn’t that a form of contempt? Do those who leave for a well-deserved week after months of hard work deserve less consideration?
Concepts like “slow travel” or “sustainable tourism” seem hollow when reduced to marketing slogans or standardized behaviors. They confine travel to preconceived frameworks, stripping it of its spontaneous and unpredictable dimension.
Instead of categorizing, it would be more relevant to recognize the plurality of human experiences without trying to define them.
Slow travel doesn’t invent anything. It simply puts into words—and often slogans—what travel has always been for those who practice it with intention.
Maybe we should stop trying to theorize every movement and simply rediscover travel for what it is: a human experience, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, but always personal.
More info on our site
This term is wrapped in an aura of intellectualism. It promises to reinvent the experience of travel by valuing slowness, contemplation, and cultural immersion.
The term “slow travel” claims to bring depth to travel, but it often relies on clichés.
Taking your time, meeting locals, avoiding quick visits—these practices have always existed and are nothing revolutionary.
Before the era of airplanes, high-speed trains, and express stays, traveling necessarily meant taking your time. Pilgrims, merchants, and explorers already practiced a form of “slow travel,” without hashtags or self-proclaimed spiritual guides.
Crossing lands on foot or by horse required total immersion in the landscapes, cultures, and unpredictability of the journey. Yet, no one attributed philosophical intentions to them: it was a necessity.
Slow travel, in its current version, may be less a philosophy than a reflection of the contradictions of an affluent class searching for meaning in a world they help overload.
So-called “slow” travel is presented as a privileged way to understand a culture, but this claim is debatable. A region never represents an entire country.
Immersing yourself in a community doesn’t guarantee a complete or more authentic understanding than any other way of traveling.
Slowness in itself doesn’t guarantee depth or ethics. You can immerse yourself in a place over a weekend, just as you can spend months in a country without grasping its subtleties.
By positioning itself as an antidote to “fast” tourism, slow travel fetishizes a temporality that only makes sense if it’s accompanied by real openness and an effort to integrate.
But this over-intellectualization often masks a desire to belong to a trend or a need to stand out socially.
Behind this posture sometimes lies a whim: the urge to reinvent one’s life elsewhere in an idealized form. But this quest for elsewhere remains fundamentally a way to escape or respond to unease, rather than a true commitment to the cultures visited.
When we talk about “encounters” while traveling, we often forget that these exchanges are facilitated by biased contexts. As a traveler, you’re seen as a temporary visitor, unattached, and that changes the dynamic.
Locals, whether curious or used to tourists, adopt a different stance than they would with a neighbor they see daily.
This interaction is also tinged with asymmetry: the traveler has the luxury of time and availability, while in daily life, personal concerns often take precedence over the desire to connect.
The flip side is that the openness displayed while traveling is often a facade. We boast about chatting with a fisherman or sharing a meal with a local family, but how many of these encounters lead to a real understanding of cultural differences or sincere reflection?
Once home, these moments become anecdotes, social trophies to show off, without fundamentally changing our relationship with others in our daily lives.
By imposing a definition, we push people to adapt their practices to fit an idealized model. This can lead to a paradoxical standardization: “slow travel” becomes a checklist of behaviors (meetings, immersion, slowness).
The “bobos” (bourgeois-bohemians), often in search of meaning in a world saturated with options, believe that giving a name to a practice grants it legitimacy or moral value. But this obsession with framing and theorizing travel only drains it of its spontaneity.
Someone who grew up at the crossroads of multiple cultures, on the other hand, doesn’t feel this need. For them, traveling isn’t a philosophical project but an intrinsic part of their life.
The very concept of “slow travel” can seem absurd: why glorify what’s simply natural?
Why try to turn into an ideology what should be a personal, intimate experience, free from semantic constraints?
Ultimately, this need for labeling, this frantic quest to name every gesture, reveals a society craving simplicity.
Travel, in its purest form, doesn’t need justification or slogans. It doesn’t need slowness or speed: it’s simply lived.
Perhaps the real challenge is to unlearn this Western habit of conceptualizing everything that should simply be felt.
For many, travel is a parenthesis, a temporary break from daily life. But if we reject this distinction between “home” and “elsewhere,” every human life becomes a continuous journey through varied environments.
From this perspective, “slow travel” loses all meaning, because living somewhere—whether for a week or five years—is part of the same experience of adaptation.
So, we ask the fans of marketing slogans: is travel a parenthesis or a journey?
“Slow travel” is often driven by a Western eco-bobo ideology, tinged with post-colonial guilt. This discourse promotes a supposedly virtuous way of traveling while forgetting that these practices remain a privilege.
Far from deconstructing power dynamics, it sometimes reinforces them by glorifying a different kind of consumption, still centered on comfort.
There’s also a condescending side to this rhetoric. By idealizing slowness, slow travel advocates imply that those who travel quickly or on a budget are less “authentic” in their approach.
Yet, isn’t that a form of contempt? Do those who leave for a well-deserved week after months of hard work deserve less consideration?
Concepts like “slow travel” or “sustainable tourism” seem hollow when reduced to marketing slogans or standardized behaviors. They confine travel to preconceived frameworks, stripping it of its spontaneous and unpredictable dimension.
Instead of categorizing, it would be more relevant to recognize the plurality of human experiences without trying to define them.
Slow travel doesn’t invent anything. It simply puts into words—and often slogans—what travel has always been for those who practice it with intention.
Maybe we should stop trying to theorize every movement and simply rediscover travel for what it is: a human experience, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, but always personal.
More info on our site
Je suis actuellement en randonnée vélo de la haute Savoie à la presqu’île de giens et j’ai L’impression qu’ il y a beaucoup de voyageurs à vélo.
Beaucoup de jeunes notamment
Qu’en pensez-vous ?
This catchy and somewhat mysterious title comes from several questions I’ve been asking myself.
VF has been back open for a reasonable number of weeks and months now. The number of visitors overall matches past averages, but the number of members online in the last 24 hours seems relatively lower than what we used to see.
Yet, to my surprise, I’m seeing fewer travel journals, way fewer messages, and way fewer questions. I don’t see many new registered users online, and I notice a number of members who are logged in but either aren’t participating or have stopped participating.
Something’s not adding up for me because, in my opinion, VF is still appealing, and I don’t see which other sites could really compete.
Was there a real break between pre- and post-Covid? Does it just take more time for some people to discover the site or learn that it’s active again? Do people now prefer quick consumption on sites like FB or others I’m not familiar with? Where have the site’s old-timers gone, and what are they doing with their time now? What’s really going on here?
VF has been back open for a reasonable number of weeks and months now. The number of visitors overall matches past averages, but the number of members online in the last 24 hours seems relatively lower than what we used to see.
Yet, to my surprise, I’m seeing fewer travel journals, way fewer messages, and way fewer questions. I don’t see many new registered users online, and I notice a number of members who are logged in but either aren’t participating or have stopped participating.
Something’s not adding up for me because, in my opinion, VF is still appealing, and I don’t see which other sites could really compete.
Was there a real break between pre- and post-Covid? Does it just take more time for some people to discover the site or learn that it’s active again? Do people now prefer quick consumption on sites like FB or others I’m not familiar with? Where have the site’s old-timers gone, and what are they doing with their time now? What’s really going on here?
Bonjour
j envisage d acheter le triban rc 520 gravel. Il dispose d un double plateau 50x34 et d une chape longue r7000 en 105 qui permet a priori de mettre une cassette SRAM de 36... je sais que je n'utiliserai pas le plateau de 50 ... est il possible de l enlever et d enlever également le mecanisme du derailleur avant ? ce faisant j aurai donc en theorie un velo en monoplateau de 34 pour le plateau et de 11-36 pour la cassette .... Est ce possible ? je vise notamment les voyages en mode leger de style bikepacking.... Par ailleurs quelqu un disposerai t il d information sur la taille de velo qu il faudrait envisager ? je mesure 1m63 pour 74 d entrejambe... il n y a pas de guide des tailles sur le decathlon Français et celle figurant sur les décathlons espagnoles et anglais sont contradictoires....
j envisage d acheter le triban rc 520 gravel. Il dispose d un double plateau 50x34 et d une chape longue r7000 en 105 qui permet a priori de mettre une cassette SRAM de 36... je sais que je n'utiliserai pas le plateau de 50 ... est il possible de l enlever et d enlever également le mecanisme du derailleur avant ? ce faisant j aurai donc en theorie un velo en monoplateau de 34 pour le plateau et de 11-36 pour la cassette .... Est ce possible ? je vise notamment les voyages en mode leger de style bikepacking.... Par ailleurs quelqu un disposerai t il d information sur la taille de velo qu il faudrait envisager ? je mesure 1m63 pour 74 d entrejambe... il n y a pas de guide des tailles sur le decathlon Français et celle figurant sur les décathlons espagnoles et anglais sont contradictoires....
Hello everyone,
It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.
A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question. They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???
Not even a simple thank you!!!
From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕 Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????
Please forgive my little rant.
Wishing everyone all the best. Cheers,
Puma2A
...
It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.
A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question. They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???
Not even a simple thank you!!!
From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕 Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????
Please forgive my little rant.
Wishing everyone all the best. Cheers,
Puma2A
...
La liste des plus beaux villages en Espagne
…. et la liste pourrait s'allonger :
https://www.lospueblosmasbonitosdeespana.org/pueblos-con-encanto.html
https://www.lospueblosmasbonitosdeespana.org/pueblos-con-encanto.html
Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...This trip was in 2023, but when I wanted to write my travel journal, VF was still closed to contributions... So, now that I've just finished my Japan travel journal here, I figured it was high time to honor this destination we came back from so enchanted. Disclaimer 1: This is a written travel journal. There’ll be text! Too much, for some! Disclaimer 2: This is an illustrated travel journal. There’ll be photos! Too many, for some!
I have to say, every time I try to discipline myself, to keep it shorter, to include fewer photos... I end up adding more. It feels like my dear Aunt Nicole, who exhausted us with her slide-show evenings in the 70s/80s, decided to take her revenge. The upside for you, readers, is that you can slip away anytime without offending Aunt Nicole. I won’t even notice!
Anyway, since I love maps, here’s one to give you an idea of where I’m taking you. As you can see, we only saw a tiny part of Laos (the areas circled in red); we only had 3 weeks for ourselves (my husband’s newly retired, I still work), and we prefer taking our time over rushing around like crazy.
In broad strokes, it was very classic:
First, we “settled in” at Luang Prabang (8 days), because we wanted and needed to. From there, we took three days to venture a little further north—not far in kilometers, but as we know, distances aren’t just about km! Then we flew south to Paksé, letting ourselves drift down to the 4,000 Islands while stopping by the pre-Angkorian archaeological sites. We wrapped up with the Bolaven Plateau.
A few practical notes: We arrived via Bangkok, then took a Bangkok-Luang Prabang flight, having picked up our luggage in Bangkok to check it in for Luang Prabang. No issues—the Bangkok airport, which many of you know, is very well organized. We got our visas on arrival in Luang Prabang. Quick, but to be fair, we were on a “small” plane, and the big flights had arrived earlier, so we weren’t too crowded in line! At the end of our trip, we didn’t fly out of Paksé but from the nearby airport in Thailand, Ubon Ratchathani (a 2.5-hour drive from Paksé), then Bangkok and Paris. You’ll notice we skipped Vientiane to stay longer in Luang Prabang. That said, there’s now a high-speed train between Vientiane and Luang Prabang—good to know—and soon the (Chinese) train will go all the way to Bangkok and even Kuala Lumpur!
With that intro out of the way, let’s dive into the heart of the matter. To be continued: Slowing down the pace... in Luang Prabang
The end of a golden age
For years, travel forums embodied the spirit of mutual aid on the web. Travelers generously shared their experiences, tips, and secret spots. This collective generosity seemed endless. But behind this altruistic facade lay a more complex reality.
The silent infiltration of forums Free travel forums have gradually become marketing hunting grounds. Under the guise of "experienced travelers," professionals in tourism, affiliates seeking commissions, or aspiring influencers testing monetization strategies now lurk.
These fake profiles master the community’s codes. They build credibility by answering dozens of basic questions before subtly slipping in their paid recommendations. A "favorite" hotel mentioned insistently, an "essential" guidebook systematically cited, an "extraordinary" local agency that keeps coming up in conversations.
New travelers can no longer tell the difference between selfless advice and disguised promotion. This informational pollution has gradually eroded the trust that gave these platforms their value.
The rise of paid Travel Planners Faced with this decline, a new profession has emerged: the independent Travel Planner. These professionals fully embrace their commercial status and charge for personalized advice.
The model is transparent: you pay for real expertise, tailor-made itineraries, and guaranteed availability. Some offer packages for 150-300 € to plan a two-week trip entirely. Others charge by the hour.
This professionalization marks a turning point. Travel advice is leaving the realm of volunteerism and entering the world of paid services. Paradoxically, this acknowledged monetization can restore a form of trust: you know what you’re paying for.
The irruption of artificial intelligence But now, a third option is emerging: generative AI. ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, and others can now generate travel itineraries in seconds, for free, with no commercial agenda.
AI promises neutral, synthetic, endlessly customizable information. It compiles thousands of sources in real time, suggests alternatives, and adapts recommendations to your budget and time constraints. It doesn’t sell anything, earns no commissions, and has no hotels to promote.
But this apparent neutrality hides its own limitations. AI feeds on existing data, often from the same polluted forums or marketing content. It can invent restaurants that don’t exist, mix up tourist seasons, or ignore recent local realities. It has never walked a city’s streets, negotiated with a tuk-tuk driver, or felt the atmosphere of a neighborhood at nightfall.
The forgotten alternative: authentic local experts In this landscape saturated with dubious information, imperfect AI, and monetized services, one often-overlooked option remains: consulting real local professionals.
Not the agencies at the top of Google’s first page—often the most expensive and generic. But small local businesses, independent guides established for years, still-free municipal tourism offices, and cultural associations organizing themed tours.
These players offer what neither AI nor forums can: embodied, up-to-date, contextualized knowledge of the area. They know the newly opened restaurant, the museum temporarily closed for renovations, the impromptu weekend festival, or the alternative route to avoid construction.
Finding them takes extra effort. You have to search in the local language, look beyond the first page of results, check regional institutional websites, and join community Facebook groups. But this approach is often rewarded with free or low-cost advice of unmatched precision.
Toward an ecology of travel advice The future of travel advice likely won’t be binary but hybrid. AI can rough out itineraries, propose logistical options, and compare alternatives. Travel Planners can refine, personalize, and reassure anxious travelers. Local experts can enrich, correct, and ground advice in on-the-ground reality.
But for this ecosystem to work, we’ll need to develop new discernment. Learn to spot fake profiles on forums. Systematically verify AI suggestions. Assess the real value of a Travel Planner before paying. And, above all, rediscover the habit of contacting those who live there directly.
Travel has always been a school of discernment. It teaches us to distinguish the authentic from the fake, sincere advice from commercial manipulation. In the digital age, this skill becomes more crucial than ever.
Because ultimately, the real question isn’t which information source to prioritize, but how to cultivate our own ability to evaluate, cross-check, and ultimately make informed choices. The best travel guide may still be our critical thinking.
Photo credit: Arakis Travel
The silent infiltration of forums Free travel forums have gradually become marketing hunting grounds. Under the guise of "experienced travelers," professionals in tourism, affiliates seeking commissions, or aspiring influencers testing monetization strategies now lurk.
These fake profiles master the community’s codes. They build credibility by answering dozens of basic questions before subtly slipping in their paid recommendations. A "favorite" hotel mentioned insistently, an "essential" guidebook systematically cited, an "extraordinary" local agency that keeps coming up in conversations.
New travelers can no longer tell the difference between selfless advice and disguised promotion. This informational pollution has gradually eroded the trust that gave these platforms their value.
The rise of paid Travel Planners Faced with this decline, a new profession has emerged: the independent Travel Planner. These professionals fully embrace their commercial status and charge for personalized advice.
The model is transparent: you pay for real expertise, tailor-made itineraries, and guaranteed availability. Some offer packages for 150-300 € to plan a two-week trip entirely. Others charge by the hour.
This professionalization marks a turning point. Travel advice is leaving the realm of volunteerism and entering the world of paid services. Paradoxically, this acknowledged monetization can restore a form of trust: you know what you’re paying for.
The irruption of artificial intelligence But now, a third option is emerging: generative AI. ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, and others can now generate travel itineraries in seconds, for free, with no commercial agenda.
AI promises neutral, synthetic, endlessly customizable information. It compiles thousands of sources in real time, suggests alternatives, and adapts recommendations to your budget and time constraints. It doesn’t sell anything, earns no commissions, and has no hotels to promote.
But this apparent neutrality hides its own limitations. AI feeds on existing data, often from the same polluted forums or marketing content. It can invent restaurants that don’t exist, mix up tourist seasons, or ignore recent local realities. It has never walked a city’s streets, negotiated with a tuk-tuk driver, or felt the atmosphere of a neighborhood at nightfall.
The forgotten alternative: authentic local experts In this landscape saturated with dubious information, imperfect AI, and monetized services, one often-overlooked option remains: consulting real local professionals.
Not the agencies at the top of Google’s first page—often the most expensive and generic. But small local businesses, independent guides established for years, still-free municipal tourism offices, and cultural associations organizing themed tours.
These players offer what neither AI nor forums can: embodied, up-to-date, contextualized knowledge of the area. They know the newly opened restaurant, the museum temporarily closed for renovations, the impromptu weekend festival, or the alternative route to avoid construction.
Finding them takes extra effort. You have to search in the local language, look beyond the first page of results, check regional institutional websites, and join community Facebook groups. But this approach is often rewarded with free or low-cost advice of unmatched precision.
Toward an ecology of travel advice The future of travel advice likely won’t be binary but hybrid. AI can rough out itineraries, propose logistical options, and compare alternatives. Travel Planners can refine, personalize, and reassure anxious travelers. Local experts can enrich, correct, and ground advice in on-the-ground reality.
But for this ecosystem to work, we’ll need to develop new discernment. Learn to spot fake profiles on forums. Systematically verify AI suggestions. Assess the real value of a Travel Planner before paying. And, above all, rediscover the habit of contacting those who live there directly.
Travel has always been a school of discernment. It teaches us to distinguish the authentic from the fake, sincere advice from commercial manipulation. In the digital age, this skill becomes more crucial than ever.
Because ultimately, the real question isn’t which information source to prioritize, but how to cultivate our own ability to evaluate, cross-check, and ultimately make informed choices. The best travel guide may still be our critical thinking.
Photo credit: Arakis Travel
Hi there, I’m not quite sure how to introduce this topic...
Let’s just say that since Covid—and the shutdown of VF—Facebook travel groups have exploded, while travel forums (VF or Le Forum du Routard) are much less active than they used to be.
And that’s where I realize (maybe it’s just my impression) that the average traveler seems to need assistance with *every* little detail... When I look at the questions posted in travel groups on social media—oh my goodness, we’re really not in the same traveler universe. You might think I’m being harsh, even condescending toward the overwhelming majority of travelers, but at the end of the day, travel forums still inspire way more and are much more geared toward long-term travelers, those who set off on adventures, who have the traveler’s soul—rather than those asking what clothes to pack for Bogotá or whether the weather will be nice in Mexico from April 18 to 30...
I’m just noticing that travelers who have the time and love to improvise their trips are becoming really rare...
For a travel aficionado like me, it’s kind of sad to see such a demand for hand-holding... but I guess it fits with our times.
There, I said it!
Let’s just say that since Covid—and the shutdown of VF—Facebook travel groups have exploded, while travel forums (VF or Le Forum du Routard) are much less active than they used to be.
And that’s where I realize (maybe it’s just my impression) that the average traveler seems to need assistance with *every* little detail... When I look at the questions posted in travel groups on social media—oh my goodness, we’re really not in the same traveler universe. You might think I’m being harsh, even condescending toward the overwhelming majority of travelers, but at the end of the day, travel forums still inspire way more and are much more geared toward long-term travelers, those who set off on adventures, who have the traveler’s soul—rather than those asking what clothes to pack for Bogotá or whether the weather will be nice in Mexico from April 18 to 30...
I’m just noticing that travelers who have the time and love to improvise their trips are becoming really rare...
For a travel aficionado like me, it’s kind of sad to see such a demand for hand-holding... but I guess it fits with our times.
There, I said it!
Hello everyone!
This trip dates back to late 2021, but since Voyage Forum reopened for writing, I haven’t seen many travel journals about Tanzania, so I decided to repost this one, which I originally shared on another well-known travelers’ site—even though I prefer Voyage Forum’s user experience.
It’s also a chance for me to relive this exhilarating trip... So, if you’re up for it, let me take you on a classic adventure: Tarangire - Ngorongoro - Serengeti, plus a little bonus—the small Arusha Park.
First off, yes, as the title of this journal suggests, we were lucky enough to spot *tons* of lions. The power they exude is incredible, even if most of the time they just look like big cats napping or strolling around. But lock eyes with one, and you’ll be glad you’re in the jeep.
But let’s not forget the rest of the wildlife—and the landscapes, which are absolutely stunning, with those iconic tree silhouettes.
I remember before leaving, I was a little worried I wouldn’t feel that same sense of wonder I’d experienced two years earlier in Botswana (see my travel journal). That fear was unfounded—the magic worked its charm once again! Note: Since we had limited time, we focused our trip entirely on safari, so this journal is 100% animals and landscapes—and 0% Maasai. Next post: TARANGIRE
Hello,
I’m currently in Japan, in Osaka, and we just avoided a scam I wasn’t familiar with.
We were in the tall tower in Tennoji when we were approached by two Japanese guys around 20 years old.
One, speaking broken English, asked us to make a video for his friend who’s in the hospital.
The scam involves distracting you to steal your phone or later asking for money for this so-called friend, while the other stays in the background and keeps an eye on our surroundings. We obviously refused, pretending we didn’t speak English, and they left. But after 10 minutes, they came back, this time translating with his phone. After looking it up online, they call this the "sick friend scam"—used to ask for money. I’ve been coming to Japan twice a year for 15 years and had never seen this before. Also, I’ve noticed some aggressive behavior from a few Japanese people toward tourists—shoving in stores, a 1000¥ fee for luggage when taking the train from the airport, and terrible service in some hotels.
Japan plans to require an ETA (Electronic Travel Authorization) in 2025 for entry, which will need to be applied for and paid for online, along with a surveillance app. The exact date isn’t known yet, and Europe is protesting, considering reciprocity if necessary. Let’s see if this gets canceled, as the new prime minister seems to be backtracking.
Hi everyone,
In this age of zero-commission cards and fee-free accounts, I’m curious why some travelers still prefer to set off with a wallet stuffed with bills and exchange money on the spot.
I get it for those whose income comes from undeclared activities, but what about everyone else?
Between the risk of theft, scams at exchange counters, and fees that often end up being higher, I’m really puzzled.
The last time I traveled with a wad of cash was because I had to pay for accommodation in cash only, the local currency was the dollar (easy to exchange at a very low cost), and I was still paying some fees.
I’m still wondering about my next trip to Argentina because the situation there is very specific, but otherwise?
Is it an allergy to modern payment methods?
A budget so tight that an extra 20 € (the fees some local banks charge for withdrawals) on a 2000 € budget would be impossible to manage?
Thanks for shedding some light on this!
In this age of zero-commission cards and fee-free accounts, I’m curious why some travelers still prefer to set off with a wallet stuffed with bills and exchange money on the spot.
I get it for those whose income comes from undeclared activities, but what about everyone else?
Between the risk of theft, scams at exchange counters, and fees that often end up being higher, I’m really puzzled.
The last time I traveled with a wad of cash was because I had to pay for accommodation in cash only, the local currency was the dollar (easy to exchange at a very low cost), and I was still paying some fees.
I’m still wondering about my next trip to Argentina because the situation there is very specific, but otherwise?
Is it an allergy to modern payment methods?
A budget so tight that an extra 20 € (the fees some local banks charge for withdrawals) on a 2000 € budget would be impossible to manage?
Thanks for shedding some light on this!
J en ai connus qui ne supporteraient pas, ou plus, de prendre des vacances ou de voyager hors de leur pays, en Belgique en Suisse ou en France. Ou en Europe.
je ne suis pas de ceux là. Il me faut un cadre qui m eloigne de tout ce que je connais visuellement parlant. Des paysages radicalement differents, une tout autre restauration, des visages et un langage qui appartiennent a un "ailleurs". D autres coutumes une autre monnaie une autre musique. Sinon mon esprit ne ressent pas l apaisement la distraction et je ne sens pas les bienfaits de ce repos 1 fois dans une annee. Oh on arrive a s en passer mais il manque quelque chose. Les bienfaits de l exotisme, des alizees, des tropiques, un autre gout de vin ou de whisky.
nous voila drogués du voyage et en ce moment a la fois libres et en prison.
Dans une récente discussion sur ce forum, des internautes envisageaient de ne plus donner de note sur Trip Advisor pour protéger « les coins de paradis »....
Mais Internet a décidément chamboulé complètement la manière de voyager et les derniers coins de paradis risquent de ne plus rester longtemps secrets : www.consoglobe.com/..._quoti_du_2019-08-20
Mais Internet a décidément chamboulé complètement la manière de voyager et les derniers coins de paradis risquent de ne plus rester longtemps secrets : www.consoglobe.com/..._quoti_du_2019-08-20
Three of our grandchildren came to spend the last weekend of the holidays at our house.
With her driver’s license just in hand, the oldest took her sister and a cousin along.
I was talking about VoyageForum, and the conversation turned to AI, which finds writing travel journals a breeze—churning out amazing ads for this or that country and even nudging tourists to visit one place over another.
Jules: "It’s crazy, you can plan and organize everything, then just add your photos and the AI’s text, and boom—you’ve got something great." Héloïse: "What a cheat for yourself and for others." (She’s so wise!) Gaïané: "Ugh, no more surprises. It even picks the restaurants—so lame."
I had this idea to stay on the theme of travel journals:
I found an excerpt from a book (I’ll let you guess the title and author—of course, the kids figured it out in two seconds with their phones), then I wrote my own version, and finally, the AI generated its own using a few keywords.
Here they are:
"We walked at dusk through the thick, dark forest. Sometimes, a clearing would reveal a dreamlike landscape. A magical world, far from humans. A world of frozen waterfalls, stiff fir trees, and sharp peaks slicing through the blinding whiteness of the air.
We gazed, dazzled, at the spectacle, imagining we’d left the human world behind and joined that of the spirits."
"For days, we walked through the half-darkness of dense, untouched forests, then suddenly, a clearing would unveil landscapes you only see in dreams. Sharp peaks piercing the sky, icy torrents, giant waterfalls—an entire fantastical world, blindingly white, rising above the dark line traced by the giant fir trees. We stared at this extraordinary sight, speechless, awestruck, ready to believe we’d reached the limits of the human world and stood at the threshold of the spirits’ realm."
"We walked through the mountain, wild and unyielding, its sharp peaks tearing the sky like honed blades. Giant waterfalls roared and foamed, as if the earth’s hidden forces were pouring out. Higher still, the blinding whiteness belonged to the world of spirits—capricious beings whispering to lost travelers. Faced with this silent vastness, we felt tiny, uninvited guests meditating on the invisible that dwells in these forbidden peaks."
And, amazingly, they unanimously agreed that the author’s excerpt was a thousand times more poetic. Héloïse, my history buff, said: "Nothing replaces the real travel experience." Jules said: "Yeah, but it does the job. Even if the excerpt is cool." And our oldest added: "It makes you want to go there—not at all like the other two versions. Sorry, Mamido."
And then, miracle—Jules asks: "Do you have the book? Can I borrow it?"
I’m so relieved—young people aren’t completely devoured by technology yet. And the forum will keep its charm and usefulness for a long time. Phew!
You agree, right?
Jules: "It’s crazy, you can plan and organize everything, then just add your photos and the AI’s text, and boom—you’ve got something great." Héloïse: "What a cheat for yourself and for others." (She’s so wise!) Gaïané: "Ugh, no more surprises. It even picks the restaurants—so lame."
I had this idea to stay on the theme of travel journals:
I found an excerpt from a book (I’ll let you guess the title and author—of course, the kids figured it out in two seconds with their phones), then I wrote my own version, and finally, the AI generated its own using a few keywords.
Here they are:
"We walked at dusk through the thick, dark forest. Sometimes, a clearing would reveal a dreamlike landscape. A magical world, far from humans. A world of frozen waterfalls, stiff fir trees, and sharp peaks slicing through the blinding whiteness of the air.
We gazed, dazzled, at the spectacle, imagining we’d left the human world behind and joined that of the spirits."
"For days, we walked through the half-darkness of dense, untouched forests, then suddenly, a clearing would unveil landscapes you only see in dreams. Sharp peaks piercing the sky, icy torrents, giant waterfalls—an entire fantastical world, blindingly white, rising above the dark line traced by the giant fir trees. We stared at this extraordinary sight, speechless, awestruck, ready to believe we’d reached the limits of the human world and stood at the threshold of the spirits’ realm."
"We walked through the mountain, wild and unyielding, its sharp peaks tearing the sky like honed blades. Giant waterfalls roared and foamed, as if the earth’s hidden forces were pouring out. Higher still, the blinding whiteness belonged to the world of spirits—capricious beings whispering to lost travelers. Faced with this silent vastness, we felt tiny, uninvited guests meditating on the invisible that dwells in these forbidden peaks."
And, amazingly, they unanimously agreed that the author’s excerpt was a thousand times more poetic. Héloïse, my history buff, said: "Nothing replaces the real travel experience." Jules said: "Yeah, but it does the job. Even if the excerpt is cool." And our oldest added: "It makes you want to go there—not at all like the other two versions. Sorry, Mamido."
And then, miracle—Jules asks: "Do you have the book? Can I borrow it?"
I’m so relieved—young people aren’t completely devoured by technology yet. And the forum will keep its charm and usefulness for a long time. Phew!
You agree, right?
Nous avons effectué cette petite escapade au Maroc il y a quelques mois, en juillet dernier. Avec ma femme et mes deux fils de 13 et 11 ans, nous sommes partis un peu à l'improviste, réservant nos billets quelques jours seulement avant le départ. Le but principal était de décompresser du quotidien professionnel, mais dans un endroit qui vaille le détour.
Nos fils ne connaissaient pas Marrakech, c'était donc l'occasion de leur faire découvrir la "ville rouge". Ce joli surnom est dû aux tons ocres et rougeâtres qu'arborent un grand nombre des maisons et bâtiments de la ville.
Alors bien sûr, ce carnet ne passionnera peut-être pas les spécialistes de la destination 😕 Mais je l'écris quand même pour donner un aperçu à tous ceux qui envisagent de profiter d'un low-cost pour aller passer quelques jours dans cette ville si agréable... 😎
Nous avons visité trois des principaux quartiers de la ville :
la Médina, c'est-à-dire la vieille ville nichée à l'intérieur des remparts : c'est là que nous avons passé l'essentiel de notre temps, et c'est l'endroit que nous avons préféré ; le Guéliz, pour découvrir notamment le fameux jardin Majorelle ; la Palmeraie, juste pour voir : située un peu à l'écart, ce quartier peu emballant pour le visiteur est celui des milliardaires, dont les villas de luxe ont remplacé peu à peu les palmiers...
Je publierai nos infos pratiques à la fin du carnet.
LA MÉDINA Il s'agit du quartier historique, celui où bat le cœur de la ville et où il fait si bon se balader pour s'imprégner de son atmosphère unique. La Médina est classée par l'Unesco au patrimoine de l'humanité, classement qui inclut divers sites incontournables pour qui visite la ville : les remparts, la mosquée Koutoubia, la fameuse place Jemaa-el-Fna, le palais Bahia ou encore les somptueux tombeaux saadiens.
- Déambuler dans la Médina Avant de passer tous ces sites en revue, comment ne pas évoquer l'atmosphère si particulière qu'on ressent lorsqu'on flâne dans cette vieille ville.
Un peu partout, l'architecture raffinée apporte un témoignage de ce que fût l'histoire de la ville, laquelle a subi diverses influences (Omeyyades, Almoravides...).
C'est en s'enfonçant dans les entrailles de la Médina et en se perdant dans ses ruelles labyrinthiques qu'on s'imprègne le mieux de l'âme de la ville.
A chaque coin de rue, au fond de chaque derb (passage parfois étroit) se succèdent les scènes de la vie quotidienne dans cet écrin de murs rougeâtres.
- Les remparts La Médina est cernée par de jolis remparts régulièrement renforcés par des tours, le tout construit en pisé, c'est-à-dire avec de la terre argileuse pour matériau de base.
On pourrait ainsi penser que ces fortifications sont fragiles mais à tort, puisqu'elles ont fièrement traversé les siècles : près d'un millénaire en tout. Aujourd'hui, il suffit juste de quelques réparations ponctuelles pour permettre à la solidité de l'ensemble de perdurer.
D'une longueur totale de dix-neuf kilomètres, ces remparts sont percés par vingt-deux portes, lesquelles permettent d'accéder à la ville et d'en sortir. Certaines ethnies qui venaient commercer à Marrakech avaient d'ailleurs une porte qui leur était réservée.
Ci-dessus : Bab Agnaou, l'une des portes les plus décorées des remparts de Marrakech
Aujourd'hui, c'est en début et en fin de journée qu'il faut admirer les remparts, car c'est à ces moments-là qu'ils sont embellis par la lumière chaude du lever et du coucher du soleil.
Ci-dessus : fin du marché
En attendant de poster la suite du carnet, voici une courte vidéo de cette escapade dépaysante... https://youtu.be/z-7rIAMschM
