Why bike (MTB) along the canal between the Two Seas: the lateral canal of the Garonne from Bordeaux to Toulouse, and the Midi Canal from Toulouse to the Mediterranean?

This canal was created to connect the Mediterranean to the Atlantic without going around Spain, and along its entire length, there’s an old towpath (used to pull barges). Since this path is closed to traffic (except for service vehicles from Voies Navigables de France), no cars drive on it—it’s dangerous, noisy, and polluting. The Canal between the Two Seas was built for transporting goods, so it passes through many towns you can explore without dealing with traffic. You can stock up on supplies or spend the night. You’ll discover the varied landscapes of the countryside, always in the serenity brought by the calm and slow flow of the canal’s water. Most of the time, you’ll be in the shade of trees planted to stabilize the banks with their roots. All you have to do is follow this blue—or rather green—ribbon without needing to consult a map. But the biggest advantage is that it’s flat! Of course, on the Canal du Midi, water flows from the watershed divide at Naurouze eastward to the Mediterranean and westward to Toulouse. On the lateral canal of the Garonne, water flows toward Bordeaux. But this slope is almost imperceptible, which is a huge plus when you want to travel by bike for several days with luggage.

When I say "bike," I really mean MTB because, while the towpath has been replaced in some places by a paved bike path, it mostly resembles a dirt trail—sometimes smooth, sometimes rocky, and often cluttered with roots from the magnificent trees lining it. Since the canal was classified as a UNESCO World Heritage site, improvements have been underway, but it won’t be tomorrow that you’ll be able to ride from Bordeaux to Sète on a road bike. And I’m afraid the first sections of the path will be worn out before the rest is finished. You might even run into construction work for this bike path. That’s what happened to me during the spring of 2007.

Sunday, 03/11 – Valence d'Agen 08:15 to Toulouse (Rangueil) 16:30 97 km in 8h15 (6h on the bike) I started on the recently paved path along the lateral canal of the Garonne. The first locks appeared, and as I approached Moissac, the path turned into a billiard table until Castelsarrasin. After the Cousteau port, I was back on the classic dirt towpath with its rocks, roots, and nutria holes. But not for long—soon, I hit ruts left by backhoes and bulldozers, which, fortunately, were resting for the Sunday. A pile of rubble taller than me blocked the entire width of the path. I didn’t want to turn back to find the previous bridge and ride on the other bank, which was just as impassable (dense grass). It wasn’t easy to carry a bike with full panniers, so I lifted it over several mounds. I kept going, sometimes on foot, unsure how far the construction extended. Another bulldozer—luckily, the ground was dry. The work went all the way to Montech, making the path impassable. I recommend taking the N113, which runs parallel (that’s what I did on the way back). In Montech, the famous water slope was at rest, waiting for tourists. For many kilometers, I was back on the traditional towpath. The closer I got to Toulouse, the better the surface became, and the more cyclists and pedestrians I saw—until the city center, where there was nonstop bike traffic, especially students heading to Rangueil.

Monday, 03/12 – Rangueil 09:10 to Revel 16:30 86 km in 7h20 (5h30 on the bike) As soon as you reach Toulouse, you make a 90° turn to follow the connection between the lateral canal and the Canal du Midi. Heading east, you pass the barge selling the famous Toulouse violet souvenirs. A real bike path has been built for 50 km to Port Lauragais. It’s a true joy for Toulousains and travelers. Restrooms have been installed or shared with highway rest areas, allowing you to refill water (of course, bikes are banned from ASF rest areas, but cleverly placed racks let you secure your bike and walk in). At Port Lauragais, it’s another rest area shared by highway users, cyclists, and boaters. You’ll find a cafeteria, restaurant, hotel, and a shop selling regional souvenirs. But the real pleasure is reaching the watershed divide at Naurouze, where water flows toward the Mediterranean on one side and the Atlantic on the other. There, I decided to leave the Canal du Midi, which continues toward Castelnaudary with a much rougher towpath, to follow the *Rigole* that feeds the canal with water from the Saint-Ferréol basin. For me, it was like returning to the source—a bit like a pilgrimage in honor of the brilliant Pierre-Paul Riquet, the designer of this magnificent work. I followed the service trail along the *Rigole*. It’s actually a variant of the GR 653, leading to Revel alongside this artificial waterway. It’s fed by water from the Montagne Noire, and I was worried about a steep climb. But that wasn’t the case—the *Rigole* winds for 40 km, flowing gently under the trees. It was better than a dream: a smooth dirt path with the crunch of pine needles under the wheels, where I only crossed paths with a few fishermen... And to soothe sore buns, the last kilometers were on packed earth—a paradise (ATVs, stay away!). More walkers and cyclists appeared there.

Tuesday, 03/13 After a restful night in Revel, I started the morning with a walk around Lake Saint-Ferréol. A very pleasant 10 km hike, but I don’t recommend it for mountain bikers unless you’re used to mountain terrain and have strong calves. Otherwise, you can take the road—there are at least two hotels near the lake. In the afternoon, I began the return trip to Tarn-et-Garonne via the same path, with the same pleasure.

Total: 378 km of suffering and bliss, for which I must thank the departmental and regional councils for their funding, Voies Navigables de France for maintenance, and the volunteers who mark the hiking trails. And don’t you think you’re exaggerating a bit with your 378 km of bliss and the paradise of the *Rigole*?

Okay, fine—it wasn’t always idyllic. Sometimes the path was downright *pierrique*... but I had great weather, and the landscapes were so beautiful (water, sun, vegetation). In the rain or mud, it would’ve been less fun. What does *pierrique* even mean?

*Pierrique* is worse than rocky. I know a Pierrick, and he’s tough. And why *Facteur4*?

It’s France’s goal to reduce greenhouse gas emissions by a factor of 4 by 2050. I’m doing my part by biking to work 3 out of 4 times. And your cassoulet?

Guilty as charged. I ate the best cassoulet of my life at the Hôtel du Midi in Revel. But it was very productive in methane. My stomach hurt so much I couldn’t sleep and ended up writing my postcards between 3 and 4 AM. So many great memories!

Are you a wine lover?

Do you drink wine with your meal, and how often—every day, just on weekends, or only occasionally for special events?

What are your favorite wines, from which country, and what grape variety? I drink wine with my evening meal every day. I’m particularly fond of wines from Australia and Spain—I really like grape varieties like Cabernet Sauvignon and Shiraz.

I’ve kept the habit of blowing my nose in the sink and then washing my hands—a custom I picked up in India. Sometimes, non-travelers are shocked when they catch me in the act... 🤪

Also, when I run out of toilet paper, it doesn’t bother me—unless I’ve got company over... 🤪

Just got back from walking a friend’s dog (while they’re on vacation), wearing a djellaba and Tibetan boots... 😏😏😏 Oh, for sure, if I’d run into locals, I probably would’ve shocked them? 😏

Anyway, as long as I’m not spitting on the floor at a restaurant or squatting on the side of a highway with a water bottle in hand...

Do you bring back customs from your travels?

Hi everyone!

If you're looking for great tips and offbeat spots, if you love exploring uncharted parts of a country, if the exotic is your adrenaline, then move along!

Our 15 days in early May in this part of Turkey (a country I first discovered during a city trip to Istanbul in 2017) will only tread well-worn paths and revisit popular routes. Simply because I kept hoping until the very end that our flight to Jordan wouldn’t be canceled. Events in the Gulf proved me wrong, so we left with: Zero preparation. Not a single hotel booked (well, except the first one), no visits planned, just a flight ticket bought three weeks earlier. No guidebook, no app—just the desire to explore southern Turkey and Cappadocia, whose images and the chance to stretch our legs had caught my eye.

Oh, wait—I did bring along a new guide: Gemini! Yes, my friends, generative AI was my chief advisor throughout the trip for sites to visit, accommodations, routes, and even restaurants! An experiment I wanted to try to form my own opinion on using this new technology. And what better way to test it than a Turkish getaway?

The verdict? You’ll have to wait for the trip recap to find out!

The main idea of the trip is also relaxation.

So, the plan is Antalya for a few days, the Turkish Riviera for a few more, Cappadocia as the highlight, and a return via Antalya to wrap up the trip. And it was all planned by AI!

So, if you're ready, fasten your seatbelts—cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check—boarding for Turkey now!

A little sneak peek?

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

I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).

So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!

We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice. For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.

We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.

Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).

Day 1 – Paris to Lima

Foreword I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.

Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).

Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.

As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.

Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.

Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.

My partner and I traveled from Sunday, July 5, 2026, to Wednesday, July 22, 2026. We spent a long time debating whether to rent a car or use public transportation. In the end, after reading so many posts about travelers getting scammed by police or rental companies—even those recommended by blogs and reviews—we decided to stick with public transport. It worked out really well. Sure, we had a little less freedom to go where we wanted, but it was way less stressful for us.

Sunday, July 5:

Arrived at Cancun Airport. Withdrew cash from the ATM in the terminal just before exiting. The ADO bus counter (they pronounce it "A-Jee-O") is right behind you when you're facing the ATM. Bus to downtown Cancun cost 145 pesos per person. Stayed at "Rose 5," booked on Booking. The studio was super clean and perfect for one night. The owner’s instructions for accessing the place were very precise, with photos included. Check-in was self-service with a code. The ADO bus terminal isn’t far, and there are shops and restaurants nearby. We really appreciated that the AC was already on when we arrived. By the way, I’d recommend always booking places with AC—it’s *really* hot in Mexico.

Monday, July 6:

Bought a SIM card with data from a TELCEL store. My partner, who’s on Free Mobile, was able to use her regular plan. Just so you know, I found the network pretty unstable. As soon as we left the cities, neither of us—me with TELCEL or her with Free—had any signal. Another thing to watch out for: roaming charges. I had to turn my SIM back on for less than 30 seconds to get a bank SMS code, and my phone apparently connected to the internet—resulting in an 8-euro roaming fee. Left on an ADO bus to Chiquila for 278 pesos per person. During our trip, ADO buses were always on time, comfortable, and clean. The AC is *cranked* though, so bring something to cover up with—it gets cold. Some routes were fully booked even in the low season, so try to reserve 1 or 2 days in advance either via the app (when it works) or at the counter. When we arrived at the ADO terminal in Chiquila, the ferry company counters were right next to it. Ferries leave every 30 minutes, alternating between companies, so no need to book ahead. Just take whichever one is leaving next (330 pesos per person). When we got to Holbox (pronounced "Hol-bosh"), we’d booked a place via Booking called "Casa de Nana." It was a huge studio with a fridge, cooking plate, and utensils. The best part? The *location*. It was 100 meters from the beach and 200 meters from a Chedraui supermarket. They provided bath towels and beach towels, and the AC worked perfectly. There’s a key box so you can leave your keys inside when you go out. The only downside was that no one was there to let us in when we arrived, so we had to wait a while. The Wi-Fi was good, which was lucky because during our 4-day stay in Holbox, the phone network *never* worked. According to locals, that’s pretty common in Holbox, along with water outages. Luckily, I’d had the good idea to download an offline map, which helped us find our way back to the place more easily. You can walk there from the dock.

The restaurant next to our place (La Barracuda) was great if you like seafood—I’d recommend their octopus dishes.

Tuesday, July 7:

We did a kayak tour in Holbox’s mangroves at 6 AM. We were looking for a sunrise kayak tour with a French-speaking guide. That’s exactly what we got with "Kayaking Holbox," where Diego, the owner, speaks English and French. He was joined by Gustavo, another guide. We’d booked for a group tour, but we were the only ones. Diego still went ahead with it instead of canceling due to lack of participants, so we got a private tour at the group rate—really professional of him. They showed us this amazing ecosystem for over 3 hours. We saw all kinds of birds: pink flamingos, pelicans, egrets, frigatebirds... rays, a horseshoe crab, and a little crocodile that was *so* well hidden. Diego and Gustavo have a real eye for spotting animals—I could’ve passed by the crocodile 100 times and never seen it, it blended in so well. Their explanations about the flora and fauna were super interesting. We also got a little break where we tasted mangoes and bananas that taste *nothing* like the ones in France. A real treat—those little Mexican yellow mangoes! I’d definitely recommend Diego and his agency for a French-language kayak tour (1000 pesos per person). In the evening, we walked to Punta Coco to see the bioluminescence. No need for a guided tour—if you really don’t want to walk, you can take a taxi. At Punta Coco, you have to pass the beach bar/restaurant and then go left into a kind of inlet that forms a lagoon. You have to wiggle your feet or move your hands in the water to create movement, which makes the light appear. Just don’t expect the kind of photos you’ve seen online—they’re all edited! It’s fun to see, but you won’t be dazzled by the light...

Wednesday, July 8:

Whale shark tour with "My Holbox Tours." Why recommend this agency over others for swimming with whale sharks? Simply because Valérie surrounds herself with top professionals to make your experience unforgettable. We were with Captain Fernando, who does everything to position the boat perfectly and make your swim easier. In the water, we were with Humberto, who also goes above and beyond to make sure you have an incredible time. He doesn’t just "supervise" like some guides from other companies who leave you on your own. No, Humberto reads the whale shark’s trajectory and guides you—all you have to do is follow him. He really puts in the effort, even holding your hand to guide you through this quick but intense encounter. Humberto also films the moment and will offer to show you the videos and sell them to you. His footage is really high quality. Fernando and Humberto also prepared food for us. Special mention for their guacamole! Valérie is there to make sure everything goes smoothly on the boat and to answer your questions in French, English, or Spanish about these animals. If you choose My Holbox Tours, you can be sure you’ll get a top-notch experience. About the tour itself: before you go, you should know that the sharks can be *really* far away. The day we went, it took 3.5 hours by boat to reach them. The boats are small, and let me tell you—on the way there, when we weren’t going with the waves, it was *rough*. Out of 9 passengers, 4 got seasick. But once you’re face-to-face with the shark, you forget all about that. Even if swimming with a whale shark isn’t exactly a walk in the park—they swim pretty fast, so you need some endurance to keep up. You’ll usually get 2 turns. Our first swim lasted a little over 4 minutes, and the second about 2 minutes because the shark was moving fast and we were still tired from the first swim. It might seem short, but when you’re swimming, it feels *long*. Either way, it’s an experience you *have* to do—but choose your company wisely. On the way back, there’s a stop at Cabo Catoche. Honestly, the snorkeling is pretty disappointing if you’ve done it elsewhere in the world. But the lunch stop at Cabo Catoche is really nice for relaxing (white sand and hammocks).

Thursday, July 9:

Short morning walk to Punta Mosquito at 6 AM. Really nice. Ferry to Chiquila (330 pesos per person) + ADO bus to Valladolid (300 pesos per person).

In Valladolid, we booked "Casa Lucia" via Booking. The hotel is gorgeous, with a colonial style, and very close to the ADO bus terminal and downtown. It’s super quiet and clean. There’s a shared kitchen you can use with a fridge, microwave, and water dispenser, plus a big table by the pool and a nice indoor terrace. Breakfast was simple but included. The only small downsides were the tiny room and bathroom, no mirror in the room, and a noisy fan.

Friday, July 10:

Not far from the ADO bus terminal is the colectivo station for Chichen Itza. They offer a round-trip to Chichen Itza with an option to stop at Ik Kil cenote on the way back and then drop you off in Valladolid for 370 pesos per person (Ik Kil entrance included). For the Chichen Itza visit, we’d booked a tour with a guide often mentioned in groups—his name is Juan Pat. He’s a Maya who lives near the site and speaks excellent French. He reserves spots in advance for you and queues up to be the first on-site. It cost 500 pesos per person + entrance fees. His tour lasts 2 hours and focuses mainly on the main pyramid and the ball court. He’s passionate and fascinating, even if some of his claims, as a Maya, might be a little biased. I think it’s *really* important to have a guide—otherwise, you’ll miss so much. You can contact Juan Pat on WhatsApp at +52 985 121 2381. Afterward, we went to Ik Kil cenote (showers and life jackets mandatory, lockers available). It’s *very* crowded, but still really beautiful with its lush vegetation.

Saturday, July 11:

Since we didn’t have a car but still wanted to visit other cenotes that seemed hard to reach by public transport, we decided to book a taxi for the day. We agreed on 1200 pesos to take us to 3 different cenotes and wait for us at each one. (To find taxis, just look where they park near the ADO bus station.) He picked us up at Zaci cenote, which we’d walked to. We got there at opening time and were the first ones there—had the place to ourselves for a while! 150 pesos per person. A pretty cenote in the city center with lush vegetation. It’s a bit like Ik Kil but without the deep cylindrical effect.

Cenote Xcanahaltun: the most beautiful cenote we visited. Entry 250 pesos per person. It’s a closed cenote with a hole that lets light in—a cave-like setting. You can kayak inside. There are little fish at the edge that nibble dead skin off your feet. Since it’s closed, the water is *freezing*!

Cenote Palomitas: entry 250 pesos per person. Another stunning closed cenote, even more enclosed than Xcanahaltun. The hole in the ceiling is smaller, so it was pretty dark when we arrived—kind of an eerie vibe. But when the staff turned on the lights, it looked like a "Gothic cathedral" full of bright stalactites.

Cenote Sac Aua: entry 290 pesos per person. The ticket includes a guided cave tour (tip-based). This cenote is really unique with its central island and way less crowded than Suytun. Just so you know, the water is *really* cold in cenotes. In these three, in July, we had the place to ourselves for a while and never saw more than 2 families at once—so peaceful!

Sunday, July 12:

ADO bus to Bacalar (536 pesos per person). In Bacalar, we stayed via Airbnb with a host named Luli, who offers several rooms with shared bathroom and kitchen.

The room is nicely decorated in a pleasant setting. It’s ideally located near the lagoon and downtown. The shared kitchen is handy. The mosquito net over the bed is useful because there are *a lot* of mosquitoes in Bacalar. Luli provides a water jug, which is really nice. The only big downside is the lack of water pressure in the shower—we had to rinse off by filling a bucket. Also, there’s no real door separating the room from the bathroom. We never met Luli in person, but she was very responsive via messages. The terrace in the middle of the vegetation is lovely. From the ADO terminal to the place, we took a taxi for 40 pesos. Since this driver was honest about the price (we’d checked beforehand), we decided to use him every time we needed a taxi in Bacalar. Here’s his WhatsApp: +52 983 184 3585.

Monday, July 13:

We did a boat tour on the lagoon with "Bacalar Francophone Activities." Since we were just the two of us, it cost 3500 pesos. If we’d managed to be 4 people, it would’ve been 1000 pesos per person. We had a private 4-hour tour on the lagoon with Steeve and his very comfortable boat. He’s from Quebec, so his French is perfect. During those 4 hours, Steeve showed us the lagoon’s iconic spots *and* places other boats don’t go. He told us about the lagoon’s history and gave great tips on where to go and where to eat. As a little bonus, he gave us a video taken with his drone during our swimming break.

Tuesday, July 14:

We went to Los Rapidos by taxi (400 pesos round trip) and entry was 225 pesos per person. It’s *very* touristy but really beautiful. You can eat there (expensive), relax, and go down the "rapids" as many times as you want. It’s worth it if you spend a few hours there. You can’t bring in food or drinks—you leave them at the entrance and pick them up on the way out.

Wednesday, July 15:

On Wednesdays, navigation is banned on Bacalar Lagoon, so we’d planned another excursion. Visit to Calakmul from Bacalar with ABCtours (WhatsApp +52 983 319 8359). This agency organized a trip from Bacalar to Calakmul with a French-speaking guide. Communication beforehand via WhatsApp was smooth. Mr. Checo, the driver, and Fernando, the guide (who spoke great French), picked us up on the day. Mr. Checo drove very carefully on the long road and always made sure we were comfortable. Fernando is passionate about flora and fauna—he’s a biologist with a degree in ornithology, so he knows *everything* about animals. The slightest sound or song, and he knows what it is. He’s got an eye for spotting them, from the biggest to the smallest. During the trip, we stopped at km 27 for a short forest walk, then went to see the two main pyramids on the site. On the way back, we stopped at the bat cave for the magical spectacle of millions of bats flying out at dusk. In the end, we saw or glimpsed (some briefly) spider monkeys, howler monkeys, a toucan, 2 tapirs, turkeys, 2 deer, and lots of birds. If, like us, you’re more into flora and fauna than archaeology, I’d *highly* recommend this agency and tour with Fernando. It’s not cheap, but the road between Bacalar and the site is *long* (3.5 hours). Price: 3900 pesos per person for 2 (3500 for 3, 3200 for 4).

Thursday, July 16:

ADO bus to Playa del Carmen (614 pesos per person). In Playa del Carmen, we stayed in an Airbnb. The building is on the town hall square, next to the casino. The best thing about this place is the *location*—super close to Fifth Avenue (La Quinta). The kitchen is pretty basic, but the fridge works well. There are supermarkets nearby. The rooftop pool is really nice. The two big downsides, though, are the soundproofing (you can *hear* the neighbor’s alarm and all the events on the square) and the *total* lack of water pressure in the shower. We had to fill a trash can with water to pour over ourselves. When we told the owner, he said it wasn’t normal and someone would come fix it, but we never heard back. Based on previous reviews, this seems to be a known issue that never gets resolved. Playa del Carmen is *very* touristy on Fifth Avenue, but in a fun, musical vibe—we never felt unsafe. There are *tons* of little souvenir shops for tourists on this street. There’s a beautiful monumental sculpture on the beach (the two figures meeting in the air), next to which you can see the Voladores show (men climbing a pole, tying themselves with ropes, and descending headfirst while "flying" around the pole). The show is tip-based and happens several times a day. In our opinion, Calle 38 is prettier than Fifth Avenue—it’s lush, green, and quieter, with the sea at the end. Great for an early evening stroll. We had really good meals at great prices at "El Tio Noy" tacos, just a few meters from Fifth Avenue in a side street. For souvenirs, we’d recommend going to Walmart instead of Fifth Avenue—you’ll find skulls, tequila, mezcal, keychains, mugs, glasses... at good, fixed prices.

Friday, July 17:

We did the excursion to Isla Contoy. Isla Contoy is an uninhabited, highly protected island. Only 200 people are allowed to land per day on a rotating basis, so only a few companies have permission to dock there. Most agencies subcontract the day to a third-party company. We booked through VRM (Viviendo Riviera Maya), but it was Ocean Tours Mexico that handled the tour. Contoy is a little paradise. We were accompanied by multilingual guides, including French speakers, throughout the day. Steffy gave us info about the island during a short walk on the marked trails, and Leño Tlatemoa kept the mood up on the boat rides with music and dancing. Isla Contoy is *truly* stunning, and the lunch was delicious: grilled fish and chicken, guacamole and tortilla chips, rice, fruit, drinks (everything is brought and taken back by the guides). The snorkeling part was pretty disappointing if you’ve done it in Cozumel, though. The stop at Isla Mujeres isn’t very interesting either—it’s too short to explore, and the island is *extremely* touristy. Still, the excursion was very well organized, and we had a great day (2970 pesos per person).

Saturday, July 18:

We wanted to go snorkeling in Cozumel but thought the prices from French-speaking agencies were too high. Plus, for snorkeling, we figured we didn’t *need* a French-speaking guide. So we found a much cheaper solution by taking the ferry from Playa del Carmen ourselves and choosing an agency in Playa. The round-trip ferry cost 663.50 pesos per person. Then we took a taxi to the snorkeling boat (100 pesos). The agency we chose is called Mystic Snorkel—they don’t have a physical office. The tour cost 1400 pesos per person. It was a small boat, but that day we were the only ones, so we got a private tour at the group rate. We stopped at 4 different sites, all very different and beautiful. We saw all kinds of fish, corals, a nurse shark, and turtles. El Cielo, with its huge starfish, is *exceptional*. If you’re going snorkeling in the Yucatan Peninsula, this is *the* tour to do—the other sites are pretty "poor" in comparison.

Sunday, July 19:

Morning dive with Triton Diving. I chose the Cozumel dive option. Great experience. Booking via WhatsApp was easy. On the day of the dive, Selene, who speaks French, was our guide. She’s *very* attentive to the group’s safety. The briefings are clear and precise. In Cozumel, we did 2 very different sites: the first was a drift dive with lots of life—beautiful corals and fish. The second was a wreck, the C53, a 56-meter boat you can enter. Not much marine life, but a beautiful wreck intentionally sunk for divers—still in great condition. An unforgettable moment. Selene even took videos during the dive, which the club sends you for free afterward. I’d *highly* recommend this club.

Just so you know, in Playa del Carmen, the beaches were full of sargassum during our stay, despite barriers and daily cleanup. Locals told us the problem is getting worse and the sargassum is arriving earlier in the season. Tourism has taken a *big* hit this summer, and they’re wondering if tourism can even survive the sargassum season anymore. A lot of tourists are heading to the islands—Isla Mujeres and Cozumel—to enjoy the beaches, as the west side of those islands is sargassum-free.

Monday, July 20:

Colectivo to Puerto Morelos. First, a colectivo toward Cancun that drops you off between Puerto Morelos town and Puerto Morelos beach (40 pesos per person), then another from that junction to the beach (10 pesos per person). In Puerto Morelos, we’d booked a room via Airbnb at "Piedra del Caribe." *Best* place we stayed in Mexico. It’s an aparthotel. Our room was ready before check-in, so they let us in early. The place matched the description—spacious, with a comfortable king-size bed. The shower had *great* pressure, which isn’t a given in Mexico. The staff was super friendly and welcoming. They let us use the pool, restrooms, and rooftop shower after check-out while we waited for our ride to Cancun Airport. They even kept our luggage. I *highly* recommend this place. In Puerto Morelos, there was *way* less sargassum than in Playa del Carmen—it was actually swimmable. We did the snorkeling tour with the fishermen’s cooperative for 450 pesos per person for 2 hours. The reef is close to the beach (you’re not allowed to swim there), so the boat ride is short. It’s not as pretty as Cozumel, but it’s nice and affordable. On Puerto Morelos’s page, you can also access a small, not-very-well-preserved reef. There’s also a cenote in the sea where fresh water mixes with saltwater—the water is murky there. We had a great dinner and excellent cocktails at "La Choza del Puerto."

Tuesday, July 21:

Wandered around Puerto Morelos (check out the church and read everything—it’s entertaining!), relaxed by the hotel pool, and left for Cancun Airport by taxi (400 pesos) booked via InDrive to head back to France.

Our highlights: - Holbox - The whale shark tour - The cenotes - The local flora and fauna (so present!) - Isla Contoy - Cabo Catoche (except for the snorkeling)

What we liked least: - The bioluminescence (barely visible despite good conditions) - The food—we found it not very diverse in taquerias - The constant tipping - The lack of water pressure in showers (fixed, wall-mounted, no hose or showerhead)

Don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions while it’s still fresh in our minds.

I had to leave Thailand as my 60-day visa was coming to an end, and this time I opted for a 14-day visit to Japan. I’d already spent 3 days in Tokyo a few years ago on a business trip, which left me with a great impression. Y, my Thai partner, had never been there. That’s why we chose a fairly classic itinerary, including a few castles and Kyoto among other things.

Before diving into the details of our trip, I’d like to recap the expenses we incurred. This will be useful for some of you, and it’ll help us prepare for our next trip to Japan.

I’ve categorized our expenses into 5 groups: - Hotels: 1150 € (breakfast included) - Transportation: 278 € (trains, buses) - Big expenses: 487 € (souvenirs and a few necessary items) - Excursions: 116 € (museum visits, temples, castles) - Daily expenses: 1125 € (meals, small purchases) Total = 3194 €, or 228 € per day on average. I’m excluding flights, as those depend on everyone’s arrangements (departure location, travel dates, etc.).

Jpeg below: apologies for “hotel” without a circumflex—my software isn’t French!



For hotels, we always chose decent but not luxurious places, well-located to let us walk to and from transportation hubs. We systematically avoided taxis, which are notoriously expensive in Japan. We’ve also gotten into the habit over several trips of traveling with minimal luggage: one duffel bag each (7-8 kg) plus the small carry-on allowed on planes (2-3 kg). This lets us travel with three sets of clothes (what we’re wearing plus two changes). We add a checked bag for the return trip to accommodate the things we buy along the way.

‘Transportation’ and ‘Big expenses’: I’ll give more details in the day-by-day account.

We didn’t do any extravagant excursions, like safaris or sports activities.

Meals and food make up the bulk of our daily expenses. We often ate at izakayas, which offer great value—between 2000 and 6000 yen for two (about 11-12 to 33-34 € for two, usually around 20-25 €). We didn’t hold back, but we also didn’t go to high-end restaurants.

More to come while I gather my photos: General Remarks.

Hello everyone,

Some of you may have noticed this morning that when you’re not logged in, advertising banners appear. We’re currently running tests, which is why they may show up in different formats.

A quick clarification: these ads will only be visible to users who aren’t logged in.

They’re necessary for the site’s survival. A website like VF incurs significant costs, whether for hosting or for the team working behind the scenes—we can’t keep it running on love and fresh air alone.

A member generously offered to help out after François’s departure, but we still need a new developer, and all work deserves fair compensation.

Hervé, from myAtlas, who took over VF, has no choice but to monetize the site to ensure it can continue to exist.

We sincerely thank you for your understanding and loyalty. Your support is essential to ensuring VF’s future.

Thanks to you, we can keep this site alive and continue sharing our shared passion.

Hi everyone,

I’m so happy to be posting on this forum again. I’m planning my trip and I’m trying to figure out the train route from Osaka to Odawara. I’ve found direct trains, but I can’t find a direct site for the specific train line (not sure if I’m making sense?!)

Because what I’ve found seems to be a “third-party” site. I can’t seem to find the official site for the specific line. If anyone can shed some light on this, I’d really appreciate it—thanks in advance!

Best,

Hello, In late February, a small group of us who are passionate about botany would like to walk through a baobab forest. However, we’ve read that more and more baobab forests in Senegal have been declassified. Which forests (aside from the treetop adventure park) are still the most interesting to visit? Is it still possible to see landscapes of baobabs (not just one or two isolated trees)?

Thank you, and have a great evening! Christophe

«Mr. Thomas's voice is that of a man muttering in a crowd. You think he's talking to himself until you realize he's actually talking to you.» (Greil Marcus)

La voix de M. Thomas est celle d'un homme marmonnant dans une foule. Vous pensez qu'il se parle à lui-même jusqu'à ce que vous réalisiez qu'en réalité il est en train de vous parler.

A year ago, a singular monument passed away

Tall and imposing, he embodied the character of Père Ubu and captivated with his physical presence as much as his voice. His distinctive tone, audacity, and aura made him a respected and truly unique figure over the past five decades: David Thomas.

Born in Miami but primarily raised in Cleveland, Ohio, David Thomas was a central figure in Cleveland’s underground experimental rock scene—a regional movement that would later give rise to Devo and Nine Inch Nails. He first gained recognition as part of the group Rocket From the Tombs, which, though it never recorded an album, became an influential local act during its brief existence. Known for his high-pitched, near-falsetto voice and his unconventional taste for professor-style stage costumes, Thomas stood out as much in person as his music did on record.

In 1975, several members of Rocket From the Tombs split off to form Pere Ubu—a band named after a play by French writer Alfred Jarry. The group (labeled with many tags or none at all: garage, industrial, experimental, rock, art-rock, avant-garde, punk, new wave) was extremely ahead of its time (and remains incredibly stimulating today), embarking on an unprecedented journey blending punk, post-rock, and an insane art-rock sophistication. Their albums, filled with literary allusions and wounded poetry, were sung-spoken in Thomas’s singular style. The band’s boldness was evident everywhere, mixing brass (especially clarinet), electric instruments, and a constant effort to connect with American musical traditions.

During its initial run from 1975 to 1982, Pere Ubu was an unclassifiable group, fusing the loose energy of garage rock (a term used by D.T. to describe Pere Ubu’s music) with 1960s rock, funk bass, heavy saxophones, and Thomas’s dominant presence. Though they predated the rise of post-punk, Pere Ubu embodied that sound in all its sharp, repressed, and unpredictable nature—largely thanks to Thomas’s wild spirit. The band’s clever absurdity and adventurous approach inspired other groups, including Joy Division, Sonic Youth, Pixies, and R.E.M.

In 1978, Pere Ubu released The Modern Dance, their debut album, followed by Dub Housing (1978), New Picnic Time (1979), and The Art of Walking (1980). Though it never achieved commercial success, the album found its audience among eccentric punks and art-rock fans, intriguing many with its singular blend of rock, punk, new wave, and experimental prog. After a few lineup changes and a brief breakup, Pere Ubu released four more albums in a frenzy of creativity. Song of the Bailing Man briefly served as the group’s final album upon their split in 1982. For their 1987 return, Pere Ubu recorded The Tenement Year the following year. The band reunited intermittently over the following decades under Thomas’s leadership, who remained the sole founding member throughout the group’s existence, releasing 14 albums—not counting live records. Pere Ubu’s last full album with Thomas was Trouble on Big Beat Street, released in 2023.

Last year, on April 24, 2025, David Thomas, the founder and leader of the influential and avant-garde rock group Pere Ubu, passed away at his home in Brighton, England, at the age of 71.

hgb



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHfZovOsXlI&list=RDqHfZovOsXlI&start_radio=1

Hello everyone! Booked the cruise a year in advance for a departure from Rio on April 5th. Air France flight to Rio on April 3rd, arriving at the Windsor Plaza hotel, very well located just 300 meters from Copacabana Beach, with a pool on the 15th floor offering a view of Rio. The next morning, a behind-the-scenes visit to Rio’s Carnival—there were still some floats not yet dismantled and a little samba session. At noon, lunch on Copacabana Beach, which was deserted due to rain and gray skies all day.

Saturday, April 5th, boarding the *Marina*—still raining :( To get around Rio, we used Uber, which was really cheap—5 euros for a 15-minute ride, while taxis cost double... Arrived at the cruise terminal, boarding was very quick as usual with Oceania. The cabins would be ready around 3 PM, with luggage at the cabin door. We had booked an inside cabin. Despite numerous offers from Oceania to upgrade (with a supplement, of course), we stuck with our first choice. It’s worth noting that at least 200 cabins remained unoccupied—about 800 passengers for this transatlantic crossing... Last September, since the cruise wasn’t filling up well, Oceania lowered the price by 1,000 euros per person for an inside cabin—a great deal for us, as they adjusted the rate downward when we asked.

For this cruise, weekends and drinks at the table were included—champagne, wine, beer...—plus an onboard credit that’s now only for excursions (before, it was more flexible—another downgrade, lol).

Headed to the Terrace Café for our first meal, and what a surprise when we saw the changes... No more staff mixing your chosen salad, and way fewer options: big bowls of salad, trays of potato salad, beets, lentils—I don’t remember seeing that before—thin slices of cold cuts and cheese. On the meat side, not much choice and lower quality. Desserts also had fewer options. Well, we’ll make up for it at Jacques on the first night ;) The menu hasn’t changed much—it’s still top-notch. The seasoning is average, but it’s a safe bet.

A little note on the 15-day cruise: we ate at 11 different restaurants—3 at Jacques, 3 at Polo Grill, 3 at Toscana, and 2 at Red Ginger. Not bad for two weeks ;) A French officer invited us to Toscana, which was really nice of her. Polo Grill is still amazing—I’d rank it second after Jacques, with Toscana third and Red Ginger last. I think since the ship wasn’t full, it was easier to get into these restaurants ;)

The staff was, as always, excellent. There were 3 French employees on the *Marina*: 1 waiter at Jacques, 1 manager at Wave, and 1 officer in the offices.

In the afternoon, Tea Time had way fewer pastry choices than before... Cost-cutting seems to be happening at every level. We met people who used to stay in Penthouse Suites—before, they got a bottle of champagne in their suite every night, but since January, it’s been Prosecco instead... Just a small example of Oceania’s cost reductions. At the Terrace Café in the evening, there was no more lobster on this cruise :(

Still, the value for money on this cruise was excellent given the price we paid per person. This transatlantic crossing had 4 stops in Brazil, 1 in the Cape Verde Islands, then Dakar in Senegal, and ended in the Canary Islands.

Mich74

Beyond the traditional tourist circuits, Spain reveals its true essence through its lesser-known regions and preserved traditions. For a unique and authentic experience, we invite you to explore the hidden facets of this fascinating country. You can check out FairMoove’s offers, an eco-responsible and authentic travel agency.

The Hidden Gems of Rural Andalusia

Far from the well-trodden paths of Seville and Granada, the white villages of Andalusia transport you to a timeless Spain. In Ronda, perched on its vertiginous cliffs, the cobbled streets tell centuries of history. In the intimacy of Mijas, artisans keep age-old traditions alive in their workshops, open to curious visitors.

Master potters introduce you to their ancestral craft, sharing techniques passed down through generations. In family-run taverns, tapas are enjoyed to the rhythm of conversations with locals, revealing jealously guarded recipes. Come evening, local flamenco schools open their doors, letting you discover the deep soul of Andalusia through its traditional dances. A Sensory Journey: The Wine Route



The wine regions of Rioja and Ribera del Duero invite you to a truly "non-touristy" authentic experience. In these family-run estates, often centuries old, winemakers share their passion with characteristic generosity. Tours of historic cellars reveal the secrets of traditional winemaking, while guided tastings awaken your senses to the subtleties of local grape varieties.

During harvest season, you can join in the grape picking alongside local families, continuing age-old traditions. Meals shared in the vineyards become moments of conviviality where the wine tells the story of the terroir. Some estates even offer blending workshops where you create your own cuvée under the expert guidance of enologists. From Lively Markets to Traditional Farms: Authentic Gastronomy

In Catalonia, local markets are true theaters of daily life. Beyond Barcelona’s La Boqueria, the markets in Catalan villages offer a more intimate experience. Producers share the stories behind their products—organic vegetables, artisanal cheeses, and traditional cured meats.

In the Balearic Islands, *fincas* turned into agritourism spots keep centuries-old agricultural traditions alive. In Mallorca, join the olive harvest and oil production using ancestral methods. In Menorca, cheesemakers introduce you to the crafting of the famous Mahón-Menorca PDO cheese, a skill passed down through generations.

The Vibrant Soul of Spain’s Autonomous Regions

Each of Spain’s autonomous regions proudly cultivates its unique identity. In Galicia, Celtic traditions blend harmoniously with age-old pilgrimages. Traditional fishing ports welcome you to discover the secrets of sustainable fishing, while local festivities celebrate ancestral legends.

The Basque Country surprises with its ancient language and world-renowned gastronomy. In *txokos*—traditional gastronomic societies—you’ll explore Basque cuisine alongside locals. Local festivals, like Valencia’s Fallas or Seville’s Feria de Abril, immerse you in the excitement of Spanish popular traditions. Community-Based Tourism: A Rewarding Human Experience

Extremadura, a pioneer in community-based tourism, offers homestays that redefine travel. These initiatives not only support the local economy directly but also create authentic connections with communities. You’ll take part in seasonal agricultural work, learn traditional farming and livestock techniques, and share daily life with the families hosting you.

Community-based tourism projects also extend to preserving cultural heritage. Join efforts to restore historic monuments, rehabilitate traditional hiking trails, or pass on endangered artisanal skills.



Responsible Travel to Preserve Authenticity

This immersive approach to travel in Spain helps preserve local traditions and promote sustainable development in communities. By choosing these authentic experiences, you actively contribute to keeping Spain’s cultural heritage alive while enjoying unique moments far from mass tourism. The income generated directly supports local preservation initiatives and the passing down of traditional knowledge. Positive Impact on Local Communities

Authentic tourism allows communities to keep their traditions alive while adapting to modern challenges. Younger generations find new opportunities to carry on ancestral skills, while visitors leave enriched by unforgettable experiences and encounters.

Spain’s regions invite you to discover their differences and similarities, creating a fascinating cultural mosaic where every stone tells a unique story. Each trip becomes an opportunity to learn, share, and support local initiatives that keep authentic Spain alive while preserving its heritage for future generations.

Hi there, I’m traveling to Quebec with my husband and our 20-year-old son for 15 days in August. To finalize our itinerary, I’d love to know the differences between La Mauricie Park and Jacques Cartier Park. We have two days to dedicate to one of the two parks. Thanks so much for your feedback!

My daughter and three of her friends went to Île Sainte-Marie, Madagascar. I haven’t heard from them in two days. Could you please tell me if you know this bar and hotel? This is the last photo she sent me, and I’d like to get in touch with them... thanks so much

Hello,

Who among us hasn’t dreamed of having a ticket to Tahiti, Bora Bora, or the Marquesas in their pocket—preferably a one-way ticket to “paradise”?

Idyllic landscape of a dream island, but difficult to access: the Bay of Virgins in Fatu Hiva, Marquesas Islands

Among the values conveyed by literature, tourism, and advertising is the quest for “elsewhere,” for a change of scenery, in the truest sense of the word—that is, the need to leave one’s country. This need for otherness, for difference, is projected onto dreamlike, idealized, even mythicized places. In our imaginary world, the island is often that place.

Yet we forget that islands have also been ideal prisons. The examples are numerous: Elba and Saint Helena, Alcatraz and Poulo Condor, If and Yeu, the Devil’s Islands and Leros. The latter, located in Greece in the Dodecanese, hosted a sinister forced labor camp during the colonels’ dictatorship as well as a psychiatric hospital. Despite the beauty of its bay, tourism has remained marginal there due to its bad reputation, unlike the neighboring island of Patmos.

I’d like to share a selection of about a dozen islands from across the world’s seas and oceans. For dreaming...

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

SANTORINI



July 27, 1967

At dawn, the ferry from Agios Nikolaos (Crete) enters the immense caldera of Santorini. From the ship’s deck, Rainer, my travel companion, and I are left in awe by the sight of these towering, multicolored cliffs looming over us. We disembark and begin the steep climb on foot via the winding mule path up to the village of Fira, the capital perched above the cliff. Though it’s still very early, we head to the youth hostel. There wasn’t a soul in the alleys that morning—or rather, there were only cats! I have a fond memory of that encounter with Santorini: a sensory shock, a breathtaking volcanic site, a harmony of blue, ochre-red, and white. A welcoming island, as it was traditional to welcome the xénou, an island that hadn’t yet fully recovered from the terrible 1956 earthquake, a Cycladic architectural marvel where local life was still preserved.

It’s easy to see why, in antiquity, the island was named Kallisté (καλλίστη), “the most beautiful,” as it’s nearly impossible to resist gazing at this landscape shaped by tectonic forces. Indeed, a massive volcanic cataclysm—the Minoan eruption—shaped this scenery in the 17th century BCE, creating a caldera that was quickly filled by the sea. The enormous tsunamis that followed reached Crete, leading to the disappearance of the Minoan civilization.

A cliffside path along the caldera leads us to the peaceful village of Oia, at the northern tip of the island. Blue-domed churches and flower-filled villages with whitewashed houses line the way. This walk is a continuous marvel, offering splendid views of the caldera and the neighboring islands formed by the breakup of the ancient volcano (Thirissa, Nea Kameni). Oia is a large, picturesque village, like Fira perched on the cliff’s edge, which was severely damaged by the 1956 earthquake, and its scars are still visible. Its cave-like houses with vaulted roofs haven’t yet been turned into luxury hotels or shops. Absolute tranquility reigns here.

Oia in 1967—a peaceful village overlooking the caldera. But where are the pools and trendy bars?

A lush countryside covered in olive trees and vineyards welcomes us for a pleasant hike, interrupted by the kindness of a friendly islander who gives us a lift in his truck for a few kilometers. He’s off to harvest his tomatoes, which he grows at the foot of Pyrgos Hill. The delicious little cherry tomato of Santorini earned an EU Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) in 2013. We climb up to the village of Pyrgos, perched on a hill and dominated by the elegant bell tower of its church. Finally, we reach the black sand beach of Kamari on the island’s eastern coast to enjoy a swim.

{...} To be continued





°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

RAIVAVAE (French Polynesia)



November 15, 2007

Éléonore from Pension Tama welcomes us with traditional flower leis, as if she’d been waiting for old friends she hadn’t seen in ages. The small airport terminal is lively, the atmosphere warm—people hugging, rejoicing in reunions, all under kilos of flowers. Then, just as quickly, the place empties until the next flight... in a few days.



In the Austral Islands, a ninety-minute flight from Tahiti, Raivavae is a world away from the frenetic pace of Papeete or the tourist crowds of the Leeward Islands. The true paradise of the South Seas can still be savored here—it’s a bit like Bora Bora half a century ago. Our first feeling upon arriving on this island is wonder, with smiles that could melt even the gloomiest among us, landscapes so stunning they take your breath away, and above all, a sense of disorientation and fulfillment. Picture a mountainous island, about ten kilometers by three and a half, encircled by a coral reef and wild motu, cradling a lagoon with shades of blue that would make Bora Bora green with envy.

The roughly one thousand inhabitants of Raivavae are spread across four villages around the island. Children are everywhere, as is typical in Polynesia, and they greet you with open, genuine smiles. Here, ancestral values have survived progress. The predominantly Protestant population is very devout, as evidenced by the several temples built across the island. Religious fervor sets the rhythm of daily life. Sundays are reserved for worship and Sunday school (catechism). Work is forbidden on that day, and tourist activities are suspended. These rules are strict and respected.

Hat contest for the worship celebration

Yet a sense of resignation is ever-present. The people of Raivavae know they are—and will remain—isolated. Despite the construction of an airstrip in 2004 and a few weekly flights to Tahiti and its nearest neighbor, Tubuai (200 km away), the island remains on the fringes of the world. One painful aspect is the separation of children from their parents when they leave for middle school in Tubuai starting in fifth grade. Television brings daily images of a world the islanders will likely never know, but one they often aspire to.

We are privileged. We have the pristine white-sand beaches of the motu and some of the most beautiful bays in Polynesia all to ourselves. The jewel in the crown, the island’s emblematic spot, is the “motu-pool,” about twenty minutes by boat. A natural, exquisite basin with crystal-clear water, gradients of blue, and white sand. And best of all, there’s almost no one there. In fact, lounging on the beach is frowned upon, especially for young women. Religion looks very unfavorably on sunbathing and lazing around. And yet, everything here leans toward that philosophy of life.



The "motu-pool"

{...} To be continued

Hey there!

This is the spot where we can chill and chat about fishing at sea worldwide 😊

Here are two charming fishermen taking a well-deserved break near Zanzibar!

Aruba is a small island in the Dutch Caribbean located off the coast of Venezuela. It’s part of the ABC islands (Aruba, Bonaire, Curaçao).

After visiting the island of Curaçao a few years earlier, we decided to explore Aruba in November 2023.

We stayed for three weeks in an Airbnb-style accommodation and rented a vehicle for the entire period to visit the various tourist attractions on the island.

These are listed below.

You’ll find several supermarkets (Carrefour, Super Food, Jumbo, etc.) as well as a wide variety of restaurants.

*****

Note:

Please be aware that since July 2024, Aruba has implemented a $20 sustainable development tax for visitors arriving by air.

This tax is payable via the online ED Card platform during the ED card application process to enter Aruba.

I invite you to continue reading this travel journal and watch the videos that will help you discover this sunny destination.

*****

Videos are embedded throughout the summary. Click on the image to start the video.

To jump to a specific post, here are the relevant links:

Noord - California Lighthouse Noord - Bubali Bird Sanctuary Paradera - Casibari Rock Formations Santa Cruz - Ayo Rock Formations Bushiribana - New Natural Pool (Cave Pool) Noord - Bushiribana Gold Mill Ruins Santa Cruz - Natural Bridge Oranjestad - Hooiberg San Nicolas - Seroe Colorado Natural Bridge Spanish Lagoon Mangrove Trail Shoco Habitat - Spanish Lagoon Oranjestad - Balashi Gold Mill Ruins San Nicolas - Lourdes Grotto Arikok National Park - Daimari Beach, Boka Keto Beach (Moro), Conchi Natural Pool Arikok National Park - Boca Prins Beach Arikok National Park - Fontein Cave Arikok National Park – Quadirikiri Cave Arikok National Park – Hike to Sero Arikok Oranjestad & Noord - Walking tour San Nicolas and its murals San Nicolas and its mosaic street benches The famous seafood restaurant Zeerover Noord - Snorkeling around the Baboo shipwreck Noord - Arashi Beach Noord - Boca Catalina Beach Noord - Boca Catalina Beach - Snorkeling Noord - Snorkeling at Tres Tapi - Turtle and Ray Noord - Snorkeling at Malmok Beach - Flying gurnards Noord - Hadicurari Beach (Fishermen's Huts) Noord - Palm Beach Noord - Eagle Beach Noord – Manchebo Beach Oranjestad - Divi Beach Oranjestad - Druif Beach Oranjestad - Surfside Beach Pos Chiquito - Mangel Halto Beach Savaneta - Santo Largo Beach Savaneta - Battata Beach San Nicolas - Rodgers Beach San Nicolas - Baby Beach San Nicolas - Baby Beach - Snorkeling San Nicolas - Bachelor’s Beach (Boca Tabla) San Nicolas - Boca Grandi Beach San Nicolas - Colorado Point - Snorkeling at Bachelors Beach San Nicolas - Grapefield Beach Hike - Blackstone Beach via Natural Bridge Noord - Wariruri Beach

Thursday, November 9, 2023 Cairns

TV scriptwriters are a funny bunch. As soon as their ordinary mug starts becoming recognizable on the street thanks to success, their egos start swelling. They walk on clouds. So, one of the guys who worked on the script for our trip—the one who specifically came up with the bit about the SD card being ejected into the great beyond—has built himself a nice little reputation. The kind that can sometimes launch a real career. Then, inevitably, they just can’t stop. That’s how this guy had the poor idea of adding one last twist to the sequence that made him a one-day star. An idea that’s basically about squeezing the lemon until the very last drop, if you know what I mean. The little bag I take everywhere with my essentials—car keys, camera, phone—has also hosted a bunch of secondary items over time. Tissues, a book, city maps... whatever. It became a mess! So I finally decided to sort it out. I empty it onto a table. And there, stunned, I find the memory card that Dom and I desperately searched for on all fours on Cahill’s Crossing walkway, remember? Under the shocked gaze of a little Australian girl. It had ejected straight into my bag! What do you think? Should we fire the scriptwriter? It’s way too improbable! Stuff like that doesn’t happen in real life, right?

We head out to explore Cairns. The city is mostly about the waterfront, the Esplanade. You’ll find tons of bronze plaques there, most of them in memory of a deceased loved one. All you have to do is shell out a few hundred euros, and one day, a bewildered tourist will read your prose, charmed by your lovely turns of phrase. Vanity is a thriving business!

It makes for some reading... We spot our parakeets again... What were they called? Oh right, in abundance! Everywhere, banyan fig trees provide shade from a sun that never seems to tire. Parks... Here, kids are king. Luxury hotels with their infinity pools...

You don’t know where to look first... You’ve got to go all out. Google... Where can we rent bikes? When we finally track down the only operator in town, we find the place closed. A bit further on, a Visitor’s Center might find us an alternative? We meet a charming young guy, super dynamic and a great communicator. We leave without bikes but with a full snorkeling package for the day after tomorrow! I call the shop that let us down... Well done! The owner was at the doctor’s; he’s back now, and we can make a deal!

- Oh, Dominique, where are you off to like that, so proudly and at full speed? - Me? To the Botanic Garden, of course! It’s huge and free!

They’ve recycled oil tanks into art galleries!

Hello everyone! From 2002 to 2017, I made 10 annual two-month trips to Burkina Faso, backpacking style—traveling solo (independent, self-sufficient, no agency) across the country. I happily mixed with the local population (neighborhoods, maquis, hostels, bush taxis...) and was always on the lookout for joyful, interesting exchanges. Back then, the country was peaceful, very welcoming, and any issues were always resolved with laughter, patience, and kindness!

In 2017, I was preparing to settle there for six months a year, like others do elsewhere... But in early 2018, I had an emergency medical airlift (a "welcome sign" from the skies, in hindsight—compared to what followed, the country’s negative and unpredictable evolution in recent years, plus the lasting COVID crisis...).

So, "while waiting for things to improve," I haven’t returned personally since 2018. Burkina Faso is still currently classified as a red zone ("strongly advised against for tourists") by our authorities. Though I’ve heard a few rare contradictory reports, what’s the *real* situation on the ground right now? Specifically: - General safety for Europeans - Security in the main cities - Road safety, intercity transport, and travel conditions

The current transitional president, Ibrahim Traoré, enforces strict censorship on communications (journalistic and digital networks) to the outside world... and RTB (Burkinabè television) is state-run... so...

Welcome to any fresh, recent updates from travelers or locals. Many thanks!

In this time of general travel-journal scarcity, I’m stepping up to tell you about a far-too-short getaway to the Top West End, a local term for the very northern part of Western Australia, right on the border ( ;) ) with the Northern Territory.

As usual, I didn’t manage to keep it short, but this time I’ve got photos to go with it!

August 2020. Since the opportunities to explore the world are extremely limited right now, all we (R&X) can do is explore our own island! Well, just a part of it, because with the state borders still closed, we’re stuck in Western Australia (WA).

Luckily, we’re pretty fortunate because this state is huge: over 2.5 million km² (that’s more than four times the size of France or 1.5 times Quebec). What’s more, stretching over 20 degrees of latitude between the Antarctic Ocean and the Timor Sea, you’ll find climates ranging from Mediterranean to arid to tropical. That’s actually why we decided to head as far north as possible. Sick of the endless rainy winter in Perth, bring on the heat of the Kimberley... way up Nooorth!

Friday. At the airport, the main terminal was closed (not enough flights), so we ended up in the annex (where flights to the various mines usually depart from). There was no crowd at the gate, and in this huge, single departure lounge, empty seats were plentiful. Only three flights were listed on the screens for the rest of the morning: the first to Coondewanna (?), the second to Darwin, and ours to Kununurra (code KNX).

A cool breeze swept through the half-open corridors along the runways. At the top of the walkway leading to the Fokker 100 (the Airbuses and Boeings are now parked!), a flight attendant greeted us with a basket full of sanitary masks. We were actually the only masked passengers (the staff weren’t wearing them either). With zero Covid-19 cases in WA at the time, the only rule was to maintain social distancing—something pretty hard to do on a full plane!

It was also my first time wearing a mask—it felt weird, pretty uncomfortable, and after a while, painful behind the ears. I really feel for those who have to wear one all day, every day. The flight lasted three long hours, but luckily, I had a good book. From the window, I watched an endless expanse of salt lakes in all shapes and sizes—round, elongated, gray, white, sometimes blue and green—and an infinity of winding, capricious meanders, along with long straight lines that led nowhere. The last half-hour got more interesting as rocky, swollen formations and long, sloping plateaus appeared. Against the vast ochre landscape, green patches became more frequent.







Just before landing, rows of green fields briefly appeared, along with an surprisingly wide river—but we were already rolling down the tarmac. A few hangars, a myriad of small, stationary planes, and a tiny terminal topped with a sign: “Welcome to Kununurra.”







We wanted heat, and here it was—34°C the moment we stepped off the plane! We felt alive again and totally ridiculous in our jeans and sweaters. We quickly grabbed our suitcase and picked up the 4x4 we’d rented—more out of necessity, since only that type of vehicle can access the national parks we planned to visit.

Just four kilometers separated us from Kununurra, a town of 5,000 people founded in 1961 during the construction of the Lake Argyle Dam and the development of the Ord River Irrigation Area Scheme (more on that later). On the horizon, mountain ranges (a bit of an exaggeration, since we know Mt. Meharry, WA’s highest ‘mountain,’ doesn’t even reach 1,250 meters!) and closer to the road, a few irrigation canals cutting through stretches of bush, then a huge park overlooking a small lake lined with reeds.

A row of baobabs (yes, there are baobabs in Australia too!), a series of motels with immaculate lawns, a gas station, and there’s the main street leading to the town center—that is, the parking lots of the two supermarkets, the bottleshop, the pub, the Town Hall, the municipal pool, and the Tourist Office (already closed!), and at the next roundabout, another park, the Presbyterian church, and a few other shops. In short, two or three green blocks that you can explore in no time.

One road leads to the small industrial area and one of the town’s three or four campgrounds, while another heads toward the residential neighborhoods, which look just like the typical suburbs you find in any Australian city—except with tropical vegetation. We stocked up at Coles, an identical copy of the one near our place, and—surprise—the prices were practically the same.

We checked into one of the motels. The receptionist listed the town’s three or four restaurants, insisting that it’s always better to book a table. She recommended the Pump House, a bit outside town on the lake’s edge. “Best spot to watch the sunset, but hurry up.” she told us. It was only 5:00 PM!

When we got there half an hour later, the place was packed, and the sun had already disappeared behind a row of trees! Sure enough, we’d see a few days later that the sunset can be a stunning spectacle—if you wait a bit for the sky (especially if it’s cloudy) to blaze and reflect in the lake’s calm waters. A little disappointed, we headed back into town, where we easily found the other lively spot in town: the pub (nothing like an old English pub). Above the long L-shaped bar, several giant screens (thankfully muted) were broadcasting live footy, rugby league, etc. In one corner, players circled the pool table, while in another, customers were digging into plates of the day’s special. Instead of rooms, there were various patios where groups of friends and coworkers (easily recognizable by the fluoro vests they were still wearing) were gathered. We found a table under a mango tree—unfortunately, a little too close to the guitarist strumming his entire Country Music repertoire, complete with Keith Urban-style tremolos. Guaranteed culture shock!

Since it’s the custom here, we called the Country Club to book a table before the kitchen closed! The CC is the town’s—and even the region’s—fancy spot. Dark decor, modern furniture, dim lighting, and the air conditioning blasting. The twenty or so customers had taken refuge on the vast terrace, lit by torches. The view of the tall eucalyptus trees, illuminated by spotlights shifting from red to blue, was breathtaking.

The menu was minimal, but the grilled salmon was excellent, and the Pavlova (the meringue dessert Kiwis and Aussies have been arguing over since 1906) with melon and watermelon was absolutely divine.

It wasn’t even 9:00 PM, and we were already in bed. Had we already adopted the Top West End’s chicken schedule?!

To be continued... Journal dedicated to Attila

Hello, Here’s my review of a pleasant cruise on the Costa Smeralda with a very classic itinerary on a ship that’s anything but! I’ll share my observations and thoughts with minimal commentary to avoid "judgment," so it’ll be factual—something everyone can "adapt" to their own tastes.

A special thought goes out to those currently on board who won’t be able to disembark at the Italian ports, as well as to all those disappointed by cruises canceled up to April 3, some of whom had already faced a cancellation at the end of last year due to the ship’s delivery delay of over 2 months. I also had to deal with a postponement and had to fight with Costa, eventually getting a round-trip ticket to keep the exceptional conditions I’d managed to secure!!!

To make this easier to read, I’ll split it into two parts: text and photos. First up: What we enjoyed:

The LNG-powered engines, which are more eco-friendly. The availability of antibacterial gel in front of elevators on every deck, as well as in various spots around the ship, plus numerous handwashing stations at the entrance of all restaurants, with staff gently reminding forgetful guests. The staff’s consistently great kindness and helpfulness. No mall-like atmosphere, thanks to the smart layout and quality of the shops and bars. The quality of the meals and the speed of service. The well-organized reception area with ticketing and a comfortable waiting lounge. The outdoor decks were very pleasant, even though it wasn’t very warm. Smooth embarkation (including in Marseille) and disembarkation. Numerous bars and spots with or without music, both indoors and outdoors. The many automatic door systems that open just by waving your hand. Our extended cabin (I’d chosen it), which made up for the narrower width. There are indeed fewer shelves and drawers, but the closet is large. By bringing (as always) plenty of dry-cleaning-style hangers and storing life jackets under the beds, we had more than enough space for two. Finally, a sliding door to access the balcony! An electrical outlet under the bedside table and USB ports on the desk. The bathroom layout with a nice shower and plenty of shelves. The spa staff’s quick response in removing someone who thought they "owned" a lounge bed. The pleasant presentation of the daily newsletter, which didn’t look like an obituary notice like those on the Mediterranea in January. The ship’s decor—though that’s subjective, so take it with a grain of salt.

Have a great day!

https://photos.app.goo.gl/Vvuv1WSKGQ69Ac9i9

Hi everyone, I’m a 67-year-old woman who loves to travel, and for my third solo trip, I’ve decided to explore Indonesia. I’ll be there from September 1st to October 5th, and I’m really struggling to plan my itinerary. I’d love any advice you can share—I’ll read it all carefully. So far, I’ve booked my first two nights with a local host in Jakarta, and then I’m heading to Borobudur. That’s all I’ve got planned for now. Do you think I should book accommodations and transport tickets in advance? It seems really complicated, or could I just decide day by day based on how I feel? Thanks in advance for your replies!

I’m offering my accommodation for free to anyone who wants to visit Cameroon and its diversity.

As an independent guide, I love making friends around the world to broaden my cultural curiosity. A few years ago, I settled in Cameroon (a return to my roots) for personal reasons. Over time, things fell into place, and I now take joy in savoring every day of my life.

If you have a project or ambition to visit Cameroon, I’m here for you!

Perks: * Visits to tourist sites * Tasting local dishes * Attending traditional dance events * Tour of the Cameroonian Football Federation museum and meeting its President (Mr. SAMUEL ETO'O FILS) for a fun moment and unforgettable memories * Visit to Noah Country Club plus a direct chat with former world tennis champion "YANNICK NOAH"

PS: This is not a paid service. Individuals accepted Couples accepted Groups accepted

LIVING TOGETHER IS THE VERY ESSENCE OF LOVE.

Hello!

After a lovely one-month trip around New Zealand, we’re offering some camping equipment for sale: - 3-person tent - inflatable mattress (2p) + pump - 2 sleeping bags - cookware set: stove, gas, pot + lid, pan, colander... - various accessories: cutting board, kitchen utensils...

Everything’s in good condition and will be available in Auckland around April 5–7!

More photos on request!

Hi there, We’re a family of 4 with two boys aged 12 and 10 traveling to Egypt in February. We’re spending 3 days in Cairo to take our time exploring the city and the sites before heading south.

-Is it necessary to have a guide to visit the GEM? Are audio guides available? -Do you have any contacts for drivers to organize a few transfers (Giza, Saqqara, Airport)? -Do you know a French-speaking guide who’s friendly, family-friendly, and good at making things exciting, with reasonable prices?

Marie

Hi there, Double rooms, nice and cheap (21 € per night) for rent about 5 minutes by car from Cap Skirring in a very quiet location. Private shower and toilet. Kettle included. Pool available! About a 10/15-minute walk to the beach. Shops and restaurants nearby. The manager is a former trekking guide in the Himalayas and will be happy to share his travel experiences with you. His Casamance-born wife can help make your stay easier and put you in touch with people based on your needs. They can arrange airport/lodging transfers for 5 €. DM for more info.

Hi there,

We’ve just returned from 15 days in Cape Verde, including 8 days of hiking in Santo Antão. It was a fantastic trip with great weather and heat that stayed manageable. Everything was organized by a highly competent local agency that really listened to our requests. I’m happy to share more details about the hikes, hotels, etc. if you’d like!

Because of a miscalculation on extra costs (non-hotel expenses and transfers), I’ve got 18,000 escudos left—I’d be more than happy to exchange them for a more widely used currency!

We’re stopping over in Rovinj this coming May, and since we’ve already visited the main sights (port, church, etc.), is there a walk we can do on our own—no boat needed—that would fill a morning? Thanks to anyone who knows the area…