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

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

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

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

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

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

So, we're going to explore this area!

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

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

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

Hello! 🙂

January 2026 Here we go again for new adventures and the pleasure of sharing them with you here! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me with the preparations, even with some last-minute improvisations just days before departure. Thanks to Montagnard74, Jojoone1, Songsam, Attila, Dennis2, NadegerFERM, and the authors whose travel journals about Laos inspired me (Montagnard74, Muriel18, Mavietongs...).

In this story, written by Richard and illustrated by me, we’ll tell you about the journey of four friends: Catherine, Richard, Nathalie, and Bruno. A reinvented but overall successful trip, filled with discoveries and surprises, the scents of spices and frangipani flowers, (too) spicy food, sunsets, and... one big mess.

As soon as I return to France, I catch myself thinking, "it’s better elsewhere." Wherever we’ve been, I feel this lightness of living—less restriction, less pressure, less sadness—and I start dreaming of somewhere else, of living somewhere else, a simpler life, more authentic, with colors everywhere: markets, clothes, homes...!!! Meeting kindred spirits, genuine people, gentle and kind, and letting go of all this modernism, this technological rat race, the indifference toward others, the confinement, the racism against the elderly in France, against the poor, the weak, the beautiful... fleeing the news, politics, jealousy, meanness, stupidity, greed... And in my moments of clarity, I tell myself that every country, every city has its pros and cons, and that maybe the best of all worlds isn’t down here. But I also remind myself that you have to know how to COME BACK in order to LEAVE again... yet still...!!! IS IT REALLY BETTER ELSEWHERE?😏😏😏

Hi there, I’ve been traveling for 18 years now, at least 6 months a year, and as the years go by, I actually enjoy coming back to France more and more—a feeling I struggled with at first. I mean, we always think the grass is greener elsewhere. But in the end, I find meaning in that saying about how there’s no place like home. I still love traveling just as much, but now my trips are shorter, and I enjoy spending more time in our beautiful country, even though I don’t hesitate to criticize it. How about you? How do you handle coming back from your travels?

I recently took a six-week trip to Mexico with Y, my Thai partner. To be precise, we spent 43 days there plus a final half-day before heading to Mexico City Airport for our return flight to Europe.

I’d already been to Mexico about 40 years ago! But that was only for a week or so, between Mérida and the Belize border.

First off, I should mention that I’ve never seen a beach in Mexico. I say this because discussions about Mexico always seem to revolve around the Costa / Riviera Maya.

Let’s start with an overview of the trip. Our itinerary can be split into two halves:

- First half: Querétaro, San Miguel de Allende, Morelia, Guanajuato, Mexico City “CDMX” (the capital). - Second half: Palenque, San Cristóbal de Las Casas, Chiapa de Corzo, Oaxaca, Puebla, Cholula, and finally Mexico City CDMX.

To move from one part of the trip to the other, we took a flight from Mexico City CDMX to Villahermosa, then a bus to Palenque.

In six weeks, we visited maybe a quarter or a fifth of the country (see the attached maps). Mexico is about three times the size of France! And when I say “visited,” it was really just a quick stop—enough to get a first impression. I understand that some people can only spend one or two weeks on vacation in a given country, but that’s not my idea of travel. Personally, I’d say a country as rich in every way as Mexico deserves several months of travel before you can say you’ve “seen” it.

In my next post, I’ll break down the expenses. That might help future travelers plan their trips. You don’t go to a country for several weeks (or more) without thinking about the budget! Besides, one of those future travelers to Mexico is us—we were so thrilled by Mexico that we’re definitely going back.

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?

Hello forum,

Did any of you feel the same things we did in China?

We spent a good twenty days there in August. First, we traveled solo around Chengdu, then joined an organized tour for 12 days (Beijing, Pingyao, Xi'an, Guilin, Xingping, Yangshuo, Shanghai, Wuzhen) and extended our stay by 4 extra days to visit Zhangjiajie.

The landscapes were stunning, and we have unforgettable memories... but we were really disappointed by the following points:

- The food: way too spicy. Lacking in flavor, not much taste. I’m speaking "in general" because we did enjoy some good steamed dumplings, smoked pork, and other dumplings... But compared to Thailand, Cambodia, or India, Chinese cuisine didn’t impress us at all.

- The behavior of the Chinese: disrespectful, rushed, agitated. You constantly have to fight—people push, crowd, and overwhelm you... At the entrance to the Terracotta Army (and other sites), it’s a human tidal wave... and I mean that literally. We were carried by the crowd without even touching the ground. It was like a situation where you have one bowl of rice and 20,000 starving people diving for it...

You’re at a ticket counter, and they cut in front of you. You’re in line for boarding, suitcase ready to go on the conveyor belt, and someone shows up out of nowhere to put THEIR suitcase down... even though they have a flight ticket with THEIR seat number and won’t be leaving before you!!!! You’re getting on the bus, and someone shoves past you just so they don’t end up behind you.

It’s like these people only think about themselves. I didn’t see a single person let someone else go first or even ask—it’s as if politeness and respect are completely foreign to them.

It’s honestly exhausting and draining...

- Communication: In every other country we’ve visited, whether in Asia or Europe, we always manage—with English, a few words of Italian, French, or Spanish. In China, I’ll be blunt: if you don’t speak Chinese, you’re screwed. And yet, a pair of kids around ten or twelve years old asked us in English where we were from :)

- Understanding: Here’s the rule. Even if the person you’re talking to speaks a little English and says they understand you... make sure they *really* do, because 9 times out of 10, they don’t. Out of pride or just cluelessness, they’ll give you a big smile and nod, but in reality, they didn’t get what you were saying.

Several times with our group, in the evening at a restaurant, if we hadn’t been helped by someone at another table who spoke a little English, we’d still be there. The classic example: the waiter brings one menu (for 10 people at the table), and we’re all trying to explain that we need 4 or more menus. Five minutes later, he’s still staring at us with that same blank smile...

In 3* or 4* hotels, you go to the front desk for a hot water or AC issue. Three or four staff members just stand there beaming at you. You try to explain with photos or a translator, but in the end, you leave with the problem unresolved.

They don’t speak—they shout... on buses, in hotels...

We were also surprised to find that self-service laundromats were almost nonexistent. We got scammed once at a hotel with an astronomical bill!

As for flights, we flew Air China on the way there and Austrian Airlines on the way back—no comparison. Air China had zero service and food that was "baby food" quality. Austrian Airlines had multiple services, a decent meal, and smiling flight attendants.

I don’t know if any of you had the same experience in this country, but I’m definitely not eager to go back. Whereas if someone offered me India, Thailand, or Vietnam tomorrow, I’d be there in a heartbeat!!!

Fellow travelers,

Don’t they say "never two without three"? It seems so. Here I am again on the forum to share—and let’s be honest, indulge a bit of selfish pleasure—by recounting the story of this third installment in the Land of the Rising Sun.

Where? It’s all in the title. On the island of Kyushu in southern Japan, more precisely in the northwest between Fukuoka and Nagasaki. I hope to take you along with me for 19 nights and 18 full days this autumn of 2024. On the itinerary: gastronomy, crafts, festivals, waterfalls, encounters, and leisurely strolls in all simplicity.

A last-minute flight booked just 7 days before departure, and the route evolved regularly based on whims and accommodation availability, eventually settling on this:

- 5 nights in Fukuoka: Fukuoka city, Ukiha, Itoshima, Dazaifu, Yanagawa - 4 nights in Hasami, Nagasaki Prefecture: Okawachiyama, Arita, Takeo, Kashima, Yobuko, Karatsu, Kabeshima - 6 nights in Nagasaki: Ureshino, Higashi-Sonogi, Nagasaki city, Unzen, Sotome - 4 nights in Fukuoka: Karatsu, Fukuoka city

Most of the trip was done by car for practical reasons—easier access to certain places and freedom of movement—but also for the sheer joy of it. Despite slow traffic at times, driving in rural Japan is a delight.

If the program interests you, see you soon for the start of the journey.

Hello everyone,

I imagine many of you have been captivated by the Masai Mara park and/or your safari experience with Tony Crocetta/Melting Pot Safari. Still, I’d like to share my perspective. First, I’m an avid traveler, especially in love with Africa, which my partner and I have explored a bit (Zambia, South Africa, Botswana, Kenya, Zimbabwe, Namibia...). That said, I want to express my deep disappointment with both the Masai Mara and Tony Crocetta’s camp, Melting Pot Safari, where we stayed last year.

First, about the park: it’s stunning, no doubt. But what a highly touristy place! I can’t find the words to describe the horror of being among 30 4x4 vehicles lined up in front of a lioness hunt, let alone encircling her right after her kill while her prey is still alive in her jaws... no respect for wildlife. The same goes for surrounding a young leopard playing with its small prey, a moment when I counted over 50 vehicles, most with their engines running... sickening. I turned away, both my gaze and my camera. What a disaster to see this natural wonder of Africa turned into a tourist hotspot.

Yes, I loved this place on Earth, but no, I won’t "promote" it anywhere or to anyone.

Next, I also wanted to share my dissatisfaction with Tony Crocetta’s famous camp, Melting Pot Safari: where to begin? We booked a private vehicle for four with two friends, and I have no complaints about the vehicle itself (though it obviously came at a cost). The windows and the vehicle weren’t very photo-friendly, but let’s move on. The trip between the sisters’ guesthouse (which was fine) and the camp went smoothly, except we arrived a bit too late. Result: "We’ll leave for the safari an hour later today because the driver has to respect his rest hours." Perfect—with park formalities, we only spent about an hour in the park that evening. The safari got off to a great start... During our 12-day stay, we saw some amazing things. Tony wasn’t at the camp—I don’t know what the atmosphere is like when he’s there, but it was rather cold during our trip. Sylvie, his wife, barely looked at us, never asking how our day, night, or game drive went (I think she spoke to us once during the stay, plus the day we arrived, of course). We felt invisible... (if I were mean, I’d say the money had already been deposited into Melting Pot’s bank account.) The evening meals, if I may say so, were a joke: not enough dessert (aside from fruit, but the few elaborate desserts—like 10 for 18 guests) for everyone, barely enough meat or sides. If you were unlucky like us and ended up with a group of 15 people who decided to skip the starter, you’d better hurry to get your main course, or there might not be any left—and no refills... We always ate our fill, but sometimes we had to serve ourselves in advance. Finally, I want to correct something about the quality of the meals: seriously, this buffet was really mediocre and far from the culinary standards I’d read about in my pre-trip research (see their Facebook page). Anyway, let’s move past the food—after all, the avocados were sublime, and we’re not there primarily to eat.

About the tent: the river views were beautiful, and the beds were very comfortable. No running water, individual showers outside the tent, and dry toilets—but it’s Africa, so we weren’t shocked. However, I’m disappointed that for this "modest" price, I wasn’t warned there’d be no soap (and no, I don’t travel with my own soap—and for the price, a little bar in the tent wouldn’t be a luxury). But let’s move on—the hippo views were fantastic. Oh, and to preserve the Masai Mara’s water (which makes sense) and for hygiene reasons, underwear isn’t washed by the camp staff—fair enough. But then what’s that little sign next to the bed? Oh right, for a hefty sum, underwear suddenly becomes "washable"...

Finally, my biggest gripe is about the essential part: the game drives. In France, they sell you a dream with a "photo safari" (what’s the difference, really? A room with a few more electrical outlets?). They promise guides especially suited for photography (not a given, sorry) and vehicles that can get close to animals and go off-road... but here’s the catch: the guides are bound by park laws and hounded by rangers looking to fine rule-breakers. Result: as soon as a white ranger vehicle is spotted, we have to abandon our spot for a wild chase through the grass. Fun once... The next day, we learned that another group’s guide got caught and had to pay $100 for breaking the rules—a sum he casually asked the travelers in his vehicle to cover... because of course, Melting Pot lures tourists with dreams, the poor rangers try to get close, all while breaking park laws... and they break those laws for Crocetta’s company, which, of course, won’t dip into its profits to pay the fines. Basically, it’s "keep the clients happy, but don’t get fined—or the fines are on you or you’ll have to ask the clients directly." Nice boss! Anyway, there were long discussions about this last year, especially among the guests in the fined vehicle. My partner and I found these practices unacceptable, and we were deeply disappointed by this attitude.

I know many people adore this park and/or this company—maybe you were luckier... or maybe you’re less demanding than we are when it comes to respecting rules, nature, and clients. But after traveling through much of southern Africa, I can tell you we personally came back frustrated from this experience and aren’t eager to return... You’ve been warned.

After several discussions on VF about travel journals from the Philippines, I decided to write this curiosity: a trip report from a journey made in 1984, when traveling to the Philippines was still an adventure.

A curiosity because writing a travel journal about a trip 35 years later isn’t common, but also (mostly?) because exploring the Philippines at that time had little in common with traveling there today.

Obviously, I’ve forgotten a number of facts, most of the details, but with the help of a few notes from that time and a stack of slides (yes, there was life before digital 😊), many memories came back and added to the highlights I’d never forgotten. The scanned slides aren’t always great quality, but there are still quite a few to brighten up this chatter. Back then, we didn’t snap photos like we do now—film was too expensive—so I don’t have pictures of every place we visited... too bad, comparing some of those spots to how they look today would’ve been interesting.

Why "Adventures"? Why call it "Adventures" in the Philippines in 1984, a word so often used for a simple exotic trip? - Because the lack of information (no *Guide du Routard*, no *Lonely Planet*, no *Michelin Guide*, nothing, and obviously no internet) gave this trip what’s at the heart of adventure: the unknown. - Because the political situation made the stay sometimes dangerous. - Because transportation conditions were always epic, often perilous. - Because the question of where we’d spend the night came up almost every evening. - And for... quite a few other reasons.

That said, we weren’t exactly explorers!

Why the Philippines? First of all, why go to the Philippines in 1984—a country not exactly set up for tourism and about which we knew very little? How could we get an idea of the beauty of the Philippines and its points of interest when we had no guides or photos?

The idea came to us from Thailand a year earlier, during our first long-haul trip. After touring the north of the country, we met a Frenchman living in Phuket, where there were only a few tourists in Patong, with just a few small hotels and guesthouses. Kata and Karon had no buildings or roads, Rawai only had three palm-thatched bungalows, including ours, and the other islands were unknown to tourists. There was plenty to discover, and we wanted to return to this beautiful country... but the Frenchman made us dream about the Philippines—a country to explore, with wild landscapes.

Long evenings of discussion over multiple Sprite-Mekong cocktails (what memories of those headaches!) finally convinced us we had to go to the Philippines.

Episode 0: Before Departure The decision was made: we’d go to the Philippines in May 1984. Our friends and family were surprised when we announced we were going on vacation to the Philippines (a bit like saying today we were going paddleboarding in the Kerguelen Islands 🤪).

These days, preparing for each of our trips takes long evenings of research, planning, and noting down good addresses... etc. But for the Philippines in 1984, preparation was quick: we had very little information about the country, we were leaving almost at random, and the discovery would only be more exciting.

We still had a few bits of info gathered here and there: the rice terraces in northern Luzon, volcanoes, Negros where we were supposed to visit an acquaintance, Cebu and its marine life (we ended up going elsewhere), and absolutely avoid Mindanao, which was practically at war with the regime. That was about it, but it was already a great itinerary.

Nothing was organized in advance; we’d see day by day. We had no idea about travel times or even the existence of transportation options. The main (and sometimes only) way to connect two islands was by overloaded, rusty ferry. Only the big cities had airports.

Let’s Go: Episode 1: Paris to Manila My travel journals always start after arriving at the airport—the Europe-to-“Other Continent” trip isn’t interesting—but the flight to the Philippines was already an adventure, so I’ll make an exception.

This was the era when only a few Asian airlines were on par with Western ones: Thai, Singapore Airlines, and Philippine Airlines. They had beautiful, brand-new planes, and to attract customers (almost exclusively “businessmen”) from the usual airlines (Air France, Lufthansa, British Airways), there was opulence on board: unlimited champagne, all sorts of cocktails... Compared to today’s long-haul flights, there was still one small difference: no personal screens, just one screen at the front of the cabin with one mandatory movie. And I don’t know why, but we only got James Bond films, both ways... that must’ve been the trend at the time.

The tourism boom to Southeast Asia hadn’t started yet, and the “Asian Tigers” weren’t a thing, so there weren’t many business trips. That meant long-haul flights made stops everywhere to fill the planes. Our Philippine Airlines Boeing 747 left London, picked us up in Paris, then stopped in Frankfurt to take on a few Germans. I don’t know why we then made a stop in Dubai—a totally exotic place at the time. There was nothing to do there... things have changed a lot since. It was a small town lost in the desert. The airport was tiny, with just one or two buildings and a supermarket. During the stopover, everyone had to get off the plane and walk to the supermarket. Photo and electronic equipment were dirt cheap—I guess that was the only reason for the stop. Maybe it was their first commercial move. Emirates didn’t exist yet, as I checked online, but anyway, the idea that such a remote place could have its own airline was unthinkable.

Online, I found this photo of Dubai Airport in 1980. Anyone who’s transited through today’s massive airport with its rows of A380s will appreciate it:

Next stop: New Delhi to drop off some Europeans and pick up a few Indians, and finally, the terminus: Manila. I don’t remember how long the trip took with its five stops—an unimaginable journey today. Despite all those stops to fill the plane, there was still enough space to stretch out on the four center seats of the 747, something that never happens these days despite all the flights in every direction.

So here we are, finally at Manila Airport around midnight.

Episode 1: Manila and Baguio To start, a quick note on the political and economic situation in the Philippines in 1984, which had consequences for us as tourists, as we’d soon realize upon arrival.

After several centuries of Spanish colonization, the Philippines became American at the start of the 20th century, then independent. In 1966, Marcos took power, and little by little, his regime sank into corruption and mismanagement, becoming a dictatorship with martial law, all for the benefit of his family and friends, who enriched themselves endlessly. The peak was the assassination of opposition leader Benigno Aquino in August 1983, which triggered harshly repressed protests. So we arrived a few months later in a very poor country, with omnipresent corruption and an extremely tense political situation, as we’d soon see for ourselves. Major protests took place in the main cities during our trip—I’ll come back to that. Two years later, Marcos fled to Hawaii after being forced out of power following rigged elections. This historical context explains a lot of the situations we found ourselves in over the following weeks.

Arriving in the middle of the night isn’t very cheerful. Manila was already a huge city with many slums, where you could find a few business hotels like the Hilton or Intercontinental—way out of our budget—and plenty of run-down hotels. Luckily, two Indians we’d chatted with on the plane offered to take us to their usual hotel. They came to Manila twice a year for business. We accepted their offer, relieved not to have to look for a place to stay in the middle of the night, figuring the address must be good since they came back every time... we were wrong 🙁

We left the airport and immediately got a taste of the local vibe when we got into the taxi: the police asked for our passports. We thought: what’s more normal than police in a dictatorship?

But that wasn’t it at all. Our two Indian friends explained that the police were noting our names along with the taxi number and time. Crime in Manila was so bad that the taxi driver would be held responsible if anything happened to us... welcome to the Philippines 😎 😎

Historically, the Philippines was a very violent country, where everything was settled with guns or machetes. Previous governments had banned carrying weapons, but Marcos later allowed the free sale and carrying of guns, and disputes were settled with pistols again (or worse, as we’d discover later). Since he’d released most of the criminals from prison to form a paramilitary militia at his service (I’ll talk about our encounter with these “heroes” later), it was pretty dangerous to go into many parts of Manila, where these “tonton macoutes” ruled.

We arrived at our hotel without incident... and then things started badly. The room was infested with big cockroaches—exactly what I hate most in those kinds of countries. No way to find another hotel at that hour. After the long flight, the urge to take a shower was so strong that we squeezed into the bathroom as best we could. After that, I don’t remember—I guess we must’ve fallen asleep exhausted under the sheets in the heat... air conditioning wasn’t widespread yet.

The next day, we just wanted to leave that dump as soon as possible. So we decided to head north right away, stopping in Baguio, and we’d visit Manila a bit on the way back.

When we stepped outside, we discovered a pretty run-down neighborhood with potholed streets. But we also discovered the jeepneys. They were everywhere, flooding the streets.





They had crazy sound systems, each one blasting louder than the last. The interiors were kitschy but fun. There weren’t many private cars—almost all transportation was by jeepney, with buses reserved for intercity trips.





Before heading to the bus terminal for the north, somewhere on the outskirts of the city, we needed to exchange some money. I don’t remember how we ended up in a policeman’s jeep who offered his services: - Exchange money on the black market at a better rate than the banks. - Take us wherever we wanted, in this case, the bus terminal.

We accepted both offers (we’d still checked the official exchange rate from dollars to pesos). So we found ourselves in his jeep. After exchanging money, we left in his vehicle and stopped for gas. Without turning off the engine, he calmly smoked a cigarette while filling up. Since we were in a jeep with no doors or roof, we were ready to jump out if things went south, our travel bag in hand.

But we weren’t done with surprises yet. Once we left the small streets, we ended up in a neighborhood with wide avenues and not much traffic, which didn’t justify his incredible behavior. At every intersection, he made the sign of the cross, closed his eyes, and crossed without looking. I was more stunned than terrified! It wasn’t until we got out of the car later that I told Anne-Marie what had happened. I’d seen everything because the cop had put me in the front seat. Luckily, A-Marie hadn’t noticed anything from the back. Crossing Manila by trusting God rather than the rules of the road was ultimately effective. We were lucky—the trip was off to a good start. 🙂 🙂

We then passed through a neighborhood where slums stretched on for a while, and we left our policeman—friendly but a bit crazy—with relief.

A few hours by bus later, here we are in Baguio, cool in the mountains. My memories of Baguio are pretty fuzzy. I remember a small town. After some research while writing this journal, I found that the population was 120,000 in 1980. Given the population density in each home, that confirms my memory of a smallish town. Outside the “official” district with the president’s summer residence and government buildings, there were two or three paved streets with nice houses. The rest was very dirty and very poor, with lots of slums and dirt roads.







People we met on the street invited us to stay with them. These days, we wouldn’t just show up at strangers’ houses, which we should’ve done in Baguio—it would’ve saved us from an unimaginable and dangerous situation... which I won’t say anything about... !😊

The simple wooden house was on stilts at the edge of a hill with a view of the mountains. Since it was the start of the rainy season in a city that gets a lot of rain, we saw a lot of water. Our outings in town happened between downpours.

View from our lodging:

Episode 2: Baguio to Bontoc Aside from the situation briefly mentioned above, it was on the next leg to Bontoc that the adventure really began: an endless and dangerous road, a bus from another era, breathtaking landscapes, and surprising people.

We didn’t know the distance or how long it would take to get to Bontoc. When we arrived after about ten hours, we learned that Baguio to Bontoc was 140 km.

We got on a bus with wooden seats and settled in, two to a seat meant for two. As the bus filled up, passengers squeezed in three or four per seat, with chickens and baskets full of all sorts of things in the aisle. A little embarrassed, we didn’t know if we should squeeze in three on our seat. The seats were super tight (luckily, Filipinos are small), and I didn’t know where to put my legs given my height. I don’t remember if we stayed alone on our bench or if we ended up sharing with others.



The “road” was a dirt track (or rather, a mud track) with endless turns. We held on as best we could to our slippery wooden seats—it was shaking in every direction. The woman behind us was carsick and throwing up... gross... but what were we doing there? Then we plunged into the Sierra Madre... just the name is dreamy!

Rice terraces started to appear:



they took up more and more space along cliffs where we weren’t always reassured,



with lots of waterfalls (all that water had to go somewhere).

A few miserable villages stretched along the track, most often just a few houses balancing between the road and the drop. The bus stopped in every village—people got on or off and settled inside or on the roof. Street vendors offered their products to the bus passengers—a common sight in Asia, even today.



We were in another world—villagers were in loincloths, others had spears. The atmosphere was strange... but all good, we wanted exoticism, and we got it:

This so-called traditional outfit was everyday wear—it wasn’t for tourists since there weren’t any.

I'm currently converting a DAF/HEULIEZ MB205 bus.

Cheaper and more spacious than a regular vehicle, the paperwork (in France) isn't too difficult for approval.

I'm ready to help anyone who wants to tackle this kind of project. Those who know, help those who want to....

Hi, the situation is complicated... My son would like to marry his girlfriend (married to a Filipino in the Philippines but separated for 14 years), who is from the Philippines... but... what complicates things is that she lives in Switzerland illegally—her visa expired after a divorce from a Swiss national, and she received a deportation order in 2022 but never left. Just to clarify, she’s been working in Switzerland for 10 years and pays Swiss taxes... Recently, she reapplied for a work visa to request residency rights so she could marry my son, but they refused, and she’s already received an order to leave the country... What can we do? We don’t know who to turn to

Hi everyone,

Actually, we ended up going to Japan almost by chance. I’d caught glimpses of the country during business trips, and it had been on my “wish list” for a while, but I thought we’d go “when the kids were grown up.”

But this summer (2016), the kids couldn’t agree on a destination—their wishes were completely opposite. Then, realizing that flight tickets weren’t outrageously priced—and having read that Japan wasn’t as expensive as people think—we, the parents, suggested Japan… while warning that it would be scorching hot and humid and that no one should complain. Our eldest (18) was immediately thrilled: “Oh! Mom! I’ve always dreamed of going to Japan!” She convinced her brother (16) that it was the perfect destination. Deal sealed: we’re going to Japan, but no one complains about the heat.

After some forum discussions and family brainstorming, I settled on the following itinerary. One non-negotiable shaped part of our choices: being in Hiroshima on August 6th to attend the lantern floating ceremony. To avoid overloading the trip with extra transport, we skipped Nara, Nikko, and Kamakura.

Day 1 - Arrival at 8:30 AM in Osaka – Kyoto - around the station Day 2 - Kyoto - East - night: Kyoto Day 3 - Kyoto - North and center - night: Kyoto Day 4 - Osaka (stroll with Osaka Safari) - Fushimi Inari -night : Kyoto Day 5 - Train - Naoshima - night: Uno Day 6 - Teshima -night: Uno Day 7 - Naoshima – Hiroshima - night: Hiroshima Day 8 - Hiroshima – Commemorations - night: Hiroshima Day 10 - Miyajima- night: Miyajima Day 10 - Miyajima - Himeji Castle - night: Osaka Day 11 - Osaka - night: Osaka Day 12 - Kyoto - West -night: Osaka Day 13 - Kanazawa to Ainokura - night: Ainokura Day 14 - Shirakawa-go - Takayama - night: Takayama Day 15 - Kamikochi night: Takayama Day 16 - Takayama - return to Kanazawa night: Kanazawa Day 17 - Kanazawa -night: Kanazawa Day 18 - Travel to Tokyo (Shibuya) -night: Tokyo Day 19 - Tokyo (visit with Tokyo Free Guide – Yoyogi Park - Meiji Shrine - Harajuku - Takeshita-dori - Omote Sando - Odaiba) - night: Tokyo Day 20 - Tokyo (with Tokyo Safari) - night: Tokyo Day 21 - Tokyo (Tsukiji, Hama-Rikyu Onshi Teien, Asakusa and Senso-ji, Kappabashi, Ameyoko, and Ueno) - night: Tokyo Day 22 - Tokyo (Shibuya-Yoyogi Park again - Ikebukuro - Shinjuku (Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, Omoide-yokocho, Golden Gai) - night: Tokyo Day 23 - Tokyo (Yanaka – Ueno – Edo-Tokyo Museum - Takashita-Dori again - back to Shibuya) - departure at 10:50 PM for Paris

(You can access the published days directly by clicking on them).

The itinerary perfectly matched our expectations: a good pace, a wide variety of visits, the must-sees, but also a first taste of rural Japan. If we were to do it again, I’d do exactly the same (except for the back-and-forth between Kyoto and Osaka on Days 4 and 12, which were due to my desire to explore Osaka with Osaka Safari). Of course, we had to skip some sights, especially in Kyoto where we missed a few “highlights,” but that was a deliberate choice—I’d limited our time in the city, which is known for being stifling in summer.

For accommodations, we mixed Airbnb apartments and quadruple rooms in guesthouses and ryokan. It worked out perfectly. The apartments gave us more space and the chance to dine in some evenings, while the guesthouses and ryokan helped us experience Japanese customs.

First, a quick recap: all four of us were enchanted by our trip. Japan is a constant source of wonder, just like the preface of *Tokyo Sanpo* by Florent Chavouet describes—I’ll take this opportunity to plug the book, which I read with great pleasure after our vacation. That’s exactly it: everything is a reason for amazement. Everything is so different from home. I wanted to photograph everything around me constantly. I promise, I won’t say “photograph like a Japanese” anymore—during this trip, *I* was the Japanese. And I better understand the culture shock Japanese travelers experience in Europe.

As a friend of mine put it: “It’s simple—they have ten fingers, so they count in base 10. Otherwise, they do everything differently from us.” Well summarized.

Another thing: everything is easy. Everything seems to have its place and be exactly where it should be. The smallest detail seems to have been thought out to make life easier. Things that come to mind: the incredibly well-designed signage in train stations and the subway, the ubiquitous public toilets, designated smoking areas, those hyper-detailed maps with all the useful information available at every place we visited… These maps are so well done that we got into the habit of picking them up systematically. It’s that simple: I came back to Paris with a complete collection. And when we arrived in Takayama by car, our first stop was at the train station to get THE map. But this order goes beyond all these practical elements. There’s a certain *je ne sais quoi* that makes you feel like everything is exactly where it should be. Even during rush hour, in the crowds, people manage to avoid each other in a smooth, collision-free flow—the opposite of the Paris metro. Anyone who’s experienced certain transfers in Paris at certain times will understand.

The exquisite politeness of the Japanese and their desire to be helpful are another highlight of the trip. Every person we met tried to help us and make our lives easier. It was really great.

Oh! I almost forgot: Japan’s hyper-safe side. I’ve rarely felt as safe as I did in Japan. No need to keep an eye on your belongings—they’re not going anywhere. One example among many: in Tokyo, Japanese women leave their bags open with their smartphones casually placed on top. Even I could’ve taken them without them noticing, let alone a pickpocket… No wonder France is seen as dangerous.

That said, I’m not claiming Japanese society is flawless. The role of women and gender relations are downright shocking and archaic from our European perspective. I also don’t think I could live in such a codified society, where the individual is so dissolved into the collective. But for a vacation, it’s simply delightful. On that note, I recommend *Nââânde?!* by Eriko Nakamura, which I discovered after our trip on the recommendation of our eldest’s friend. It’s the story of a Japanese woman married to a Frenchman living in Paris, recounting her astonishment at French habits and customs. Even though I tried to be careful, I’m sure I made quite a few blunders.

As for the climate, it didn’t stop us from enjoying our trip. Sure, we were hot—*really* hot—but by protecting ourselves from the sun (hat for me, caps for the others, plus umbrellas—Japanese-style parasols) and drinking liters and liters of water, it was manageable and didn’t bother us too much, even if we probably had a slower pace than we would’ve with milder weather. That said, with small children, we would’ve struggled more.

Last point before diving into the trip details: the cost. Despite what I’d read, traveling in Japan is still expensive. I’m not talking about our specific trip, where—using our daughter’s 18th birthday and our 20th wedding anniversary as an excuse—I splurged on a few extras that drove up the cost. I was particularly surprised by the price of quadruple rooms, which is roughly the same as two double rooms. So for a family, that’s a significant extra cost. The various paid sites in Kyoto also add up. As for food, it’s generally cheap, but it would be a shame not to budget for a few extras to try some less affordable specialties—like Hida beef in our case.

This travel journal is our second on VoyageForum, following last year’s where we recounted our four weeks in Vietnam. The goal remains the same: since some members on this site share tips, experiences, and great deals that help us prepare for our trips, we do the same after returning—both to give back a little and in the hope that our experiences might be useful to others in some way.

Our route was as follows: Bangkok, Siem Reap, Krabi, Suratthani, Koh Phangan, Koh Tao, Chumphon, Bang Saphan, Prachuab Khiri Khan, Sam Roi Yod, Hua Hin, Phetchaburi, Bangkok.

Beyond rediscovering Bangkok, our objectives were the long-held dream of seeing Angkor and exploring southern Thailand, much of which isn’t overly touristy.

A quick big thank-you to Barbot, who took the time to answer several of our questions.

12/07/2013

The cheapest flight we found earlier this year was a Paris-Bangkok route with a layover in Moscow for 1440 €, total for two people. So, this time we tried Aeroflot. Airbus A318 for the first leg, A330 for the second. Nothing particularly annoying to report—the passengers were very calm, the cabin temperature was comfortable, and we had enough legroom. That said, the quality of the meal trays was pretty mediocre, and the flight attendants weren’t exactly comedians.

We’d like to remind everyone that it’s best to exchange as little money as possible at the airport upon arrival, since the rate is about 5% worse than at city banks.

Of course, we made sure to take the airport exit where you can catch official taxis to avoid getting scammed. So, we queued up, a little lady gave us the ticket, and off we went with the driver. Generally, this system works well because these drivers are registered, know their duties, and the risks they face if they break the rules. Except that day, right off the bat, we got the scammer of the day. His first move was to snatch the ticket from my wife’s hands—the one you’re supposed to keep in case of a complaint. My husband saw it, but after a full day of travel, we were a bit out of it, and honestly, there was no reason to be suspicious. But once we started driving, the guy refused to turn on the meter. We insisted more and more firmly, but nothing. So, I used the famous method of opening the door and starting to step out of the car. At 40 km/h, that scares the driver more than the passenger. He finally turned on the meter, but that didn’t calm him down—quite the opposite. For the next half-hour, he ruined the ride by demanding extra fees here and there. Having dealt with several scam attempts last year in Vietnam, this wasn’t exactly new, and we were proud of ourselves for staying pretty zen. Still, this guy was a little scary—he was completely wired and aggressive. Honestly, it was hard not to think he was on something. He’d be perfect for a *Scarface* remake. When we finally arrived at the hotel, he followed us to the entrance. We paid the two tolls (25 and 45 baht), gave him the usual 100 baht extra for the ride, and stayed polite but firm. So, meter: 245 baht + 100 baht + 25 and 45 baht for tolls—we paid the exact amount, no way we were tipping this guy. He left furious, but he was already like that before picking us up... Anyway, avoid Mr. Chartree Chidchen, number 089 826 7308, car E2663!

We were so relieved to finally settle in at Feung Nakorn Balcony hotel in the temple district. 42 € per night, great reception, all the staff is friendly. The AC works fine, the bed seemed hard at first but turned out to be comfortable. The hotel is quiet, away from the nightlife, but at this time of year, many places are less crowded than in high season. Even with a nice fish pond and outdoor breakfast area, it’s a decent hotel, though we felt we could’ve found something better.

After a night on the plane, the first afternoon is always a bit of a slog. We napped for a few hours, and when we woke up—guess what—we were starving. We visited a temple across from the hotel (nothing special) and then decided to take the Chao Phraya Express, the river shuttle that serves many piers along the river. It was a really enjoyable experience. The steel gangway wobbles when you board and disembark, the boat sits low in the water, and sometimes you get splashed. During peak times, you’re packed in like sardines, but most of all, there’s that exotic urban landscape passing by, especially the temple rooftops.



At that exact moment, the boat was packed. We didn’t see a ticket booth at the pier, and we tried in vain to pay the few baht for the ride. The cashier on the boat was too busy, and another employee we called didn’t have time to help us. Oh well, we weren’t going to force the issue. Still, this mode of transport is super practical for avoiding traffic, and at the piers, the lines with station names are clearly marked, with colors matching the flags on the boats. Combined with a map like the *Routard* guide, it’s easy to navigate.

We easily made it to the restaurant *Harmonique*, located near one of these piers. It’s a unanimous favorite on this forum, and let us tell you—it’s well-deserved. What a wonderful experience that evening! We only saw the outdoor gazebo because there was no way we were dining inside. It’s not flashy, so those looking for a luxurious setting should look elsewhere.



That night, the staff was a bit slow, and we had to track them down several times to move things along. But oh, my friends—what a feast on the plate! Start with the appetizer platter for two at 250 baht, featuring four specialties, each more tempting than the last, followed by their famous crab curry for 200 baht. There’s *so much* crab in there! The dish is so delicious and rich that when you finish, you feel—how to put it—like it was almost *too* good, to the point where you’re almost put off eating for days. And also, oh yes, we *will* be back. Their satay chicken is just as amazing, and it would be a crime not to mention their generous dessert with ice cream, warm banana, and chocolate, plus their *excellent* almond milkshake.

Later, we took a taxi to Kao San Road, mainly to book a Ko Tao-Chumphon trip for 600 baht per person at the Lomprayah counter. In hindsight, we should’ve booked all three of our trips there right away.

Kao San Road is *ultra*-touristy—better for younger crowds, but it’s still worth seeing. There’s rock ‘n’ roll, hippies, and crowds everywhere.

We walked back to the hotel, and when we got a little lost near a canal, a really nice older Thai man spontaneously appeared out of the night to kindly point us in the right direction.

Finally, a real long night of sleep ahead—we cranked up the AC. Sweet, the vacation has begun!

Hi everyone, I’m a die-hard fan of India, but it’s time I discovered Thailand too to broaden my Asian horizons. I’m heading there on January 19, 2025, for a 46-day trip (no visa needed as I’m French). I’ve pored over a few guidebooks and travel blogs. Based on what caught my interest, I’ve put together a rough itinerary and list of sights. But since I know absolutely nothing about Thailand, I’m kind of flying blind here. Since I’m not exactly a spring chicken anymore, I’ve opted for a few bases where I’ll stay several days in the same place. That way, I won’t have to change locations and hotels every day or so, packing and unpacking my suitcase constantly. Instead, I plan to explore the surrounding area each day, within a maximum radius of 50 to 70 km. So, first question: Is that kind of round-trip distance manageable in a day in Thailand? In India, renting a car for a day—with a driver—currently costs around 35 to 40 € per day. Knowing that 1,300 to 1,500 THB would be my absolute max, and even then, only if I don’t rent a car every single day. Which brings me to my second question: Am I being unrealistic? Otherwise—third question—once I’m settled in the city I’ve chosen as my base, can I get around within that 50–70 km radius using public transport? I’ve already booked all my hotels—with free cancellation—on booking.com at an average price of 950/1,000 THB per night. Does that put me in a good range for value for money? Or am I dreaming?

Here’s my plan:

BANGKOK (13 days, 14 nights): 1 week for exploring Bangkok – Kanchanaburi/Erawan National Park? – Ayutthaya/Lopburi? – Muang Boran – Samut – Songkram/Amphawa

Bangkok -> Chiang Mai by overnight train in first-class sleeper

CHIANG MAI (6 days/6 nights): Mae Hong Son – Hot springs – Chiang Dao – caves – Lamphun – other places to be decided on the spot based on what’s worth seeing and transport options

Chiang Mai -> Chiang Rai

CHIANG RAI (7 days/8 nights): Fang – Tha Ton – Chiang Saen – Doi Tung – Chiang Khong – Doi Ang Khang, Phu Chi Fah, etc.

Chiang Rai -> Phrae

PHRAE (4 days/5 nights): Lampang and surrounding areas, depending on what’s interesting to see

Phrae -> Loei

LOEI (4 days/5 nights): Phu Kradung – Chiang Khan and surrounding areas, depending on what’s worth seeing

Loei -> Buriram

PHIMAI (Nakhon Ratchasima/Khorat) (5 days/6 nights): Phimai – Prasat Muang Tam – Phanom Rung – Prasat Phanom Wan

Phimai -> Khorat (airport or train station) -> Bangkok (overnight in Bangkok)

Day 46: BANGKOK -> KOCHI

Thanks in advance for your thoughts and advice!

Hello! 🙂

In 2017, struck by western addiction, our first road trip gave us an irresistible urge to return, which we did from September 2nd to 24th, 2019, on a loop from Denver to Denver via Yellowstone. The westernmost point of this journey, which took us through the geographical center of the USA, brought us within about a hundred kilometers of Moab, which had been the easternmost point of our last trip.

We’ve been back for over a month now, and I realize I’m starting to forget some details—it’s high time I started my travel journal before my brain turns into Swiss cheese and lets everything slip away. As I mentioned in my last story, it’ll take me quite a while to finish, so if any travelers have specific questions, don’t hesitate to message me privately. Once again, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me (and there were many!) prepare our road trip, with a special shout-out to Disneydiddl, Hiacinthe, and Titou (ladies first) as well as Fred and Itat, whom I bombarded with questions for months and who always kindly and patiently gave me tons of great tips. It’s thanks to all of you that this trip was such a success. I was a little worried I wouldn’t recapture the emotion and enthusiasm of our 2017 trip, but this one was just as "Wow" as the last.

For those who don’t know us, let me introduce our little group. We’re four friends in our sixties (this time, everyone made it, which let us score some "senior" discounts...). We live in the Var region, have known each other for over 20 years, and this was our second trip together to this magical West.

Mimi (Michèle): always the smallest and the funniest. Thank goodness she was there to speak English! Maumau (Maurice): her husband, always with his white hair, his Gallic mustache, his humor, and his Southern accent. He drove every other day. DD (André): the one with the beard, with whom I celebrated our 41st wedding anniversary at Yellowstone. Our second driver appreciated having a peaceful mind since he’s been retired since July. Marcalamar (Martine): that’s me—still blonde with glasses, still talking a lot, and still terrified of messing up the organization of this trip despite all the hours spent on the forum.

Recognize us? Ha ha ha!!!! No, just kidding!!!! That’s us!!!

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...

Good evening everyone,

This is my 15,000th post, and it's a message I would have preferred never to write.

Patrick—Yangguizi—won’t be returning from his trek in Uganda. His health betrayed him in the mountains.

Like many of you, I laughed until I couldn’t anymore at his travel stories. I met him in Shanghai, then in Istanbul... We scoured restaurants—he was an incredible expert on world cuisines. We relived Korea, China. Always brilliant, so sharp, so funny, so down-to-earth. Being even a little bit his friend was something to be proud of. I think I envied him.

Patrick is still out there, of course... He found his happiness running across the world. He’s on his path. He never doubted that "the traveler doesn’t even know if he’ll return one day."

Not sure this would’ve suited him, but his departure devastates me.

Alright, Farewell, you foreign devil. Safe travels.

Michel

Lombok, Indonesia: A Forgotten Paradise?

We’ve just returned from 3 weeks (yes, only that!) in Lombok, an island next to Bali, just a few miles away. Since I found very little information before leaving—except about the Gili Islands and organized Rinjani treks—I’ve tried to gather some details that might be useful for a Voyage Forum member looking to explore the area. Nothing exhaustive, but maybe a few great tips.

For those considering a Lonely Planet *Bali & Lombok* guide, be aware that the prices are wrong (expect a 30% increase, especially due to rising fuel costs), much of the info is outdated (the latest edition must be at least 2 or 3 years old), and the real good deals aren’t included. In short, don’t bother weighing down your bag (we already had 17kg of luggage for two—we’re getting soft!). A good map will be far more useful.

Climate: We went in late August to mid-September, so the weather was ideal in this region (best from June to September). It was pleasant, not too hot, with a light breeze keeping the Bintang cold in the evening—pure bliss!

Getting There: The cheapest way is to fly to Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia Airlines), then switch airports (getting to the LCC terminal costs 1.5 ringgit by bus) and take an AirAsia flight to Bali (booked in advance online). Once in Bali, to reach Lombok: either another flight—around 30 €—on a small propeller plane (probably a Dutch legacy); or by boat, but since you have to get to Padangbai in eastern Bali to catch the ferry, you “lose” (a very relative term when traveling) a lot of time (at least 6 hours total) to save a few euros. Since we were already mid-afternoon and didn’t want to spend a night in Bali, we opted for the “tuk-tuk with propellers” 😉. It was the first time I was weighed with my bag before boarding a plane! I know I’ve put on weight lately, but still…

After arriving in the late afternoon in Mataram, Lombok, we decided to find a bed nearby. Headed to Senggigi, Lombok’s main beach resort. We ended up at the first guesthouse, “Lina Cottages,” for 75,000 IDR a night. Exhausted, we headed straight to dreamland. I woke up around midnight, thinking I heard Massimo!??!! I hadn’t even had too much Bintang—was the jet lag giving me hallucinations ? No, I really did hear Massimo belting out a song! After a few seconds of “lost in translation,” I realized the Marina, Senggigi’s trendy bar, had—like every night—a live band playing, and these guys were covering that French classic (sic) you’ve probably heard at least once. Coming all this way just to hear “Massiiiimooooo, Massiiimmoooo, Massiiimmooomooooo…” blasting in your ears like you’re at a campsite in Juan-les-Pins—enough to depress anyone! Anyway, we left ASAP. Just enough time to check out Senggigi: its 4 or 5 bars, 10 restaurants, 3 or 4 luxury hotels—still far from Kuta Bali, but not really our scene anyway. We quickly realized there’s very little organized transport (except for a few Perama bus routes, almost all passing through Senggigi) in Lombok. To avoid spending our 3 weeks in bemos, we quickly opted to rent a car (too old for a two-person motorbike, though we’d done it in Bali… Turns out we made the right call—the roads in Lombok are way too rough for bikes). Senggigi is one of the few places on the island where you can rent a car and withdraw cash. After some tough negotiation, I got a Suzuki Katana for 120,000 IDR/day (instead of the usual 200,000 IDR). I was a bit frustrated—thought it was expensive. A local on vacation in Lombok (he’s lived in Australia for years) later told me he couldn’t even get that rate, saying prices had jumped with the fuel hike (from 2,500 IDR/liter two years ago to 5,000 IDR now).

Anyway, we left Massimo to his interplanetary success and headed south. I was curious to see if we could stay on a small island off Lombok’s southwest peninsula. After 60km and 1.5 hours, we arrived in Taun, where we found a “captain” willing to take us to Gili Nanggu. There seemed to be a guesthouse on the island. After some *very* tough negotiation, we got a round-trip price of 150,000 IDR for two days later (a guide taking tourists to the island for the day later told me he pays 185,000 IDR for the same trip). The island is barely a few hundred meters across, and the only guesthouse, “Gili Nanggu Cottages” (165,000 IDR/night), offered us a charming bungalow in traditional Lombok style. No negotiating possible—we were stuck on the island anyway! By mid-afternoon, the day-trippers (often from Senggigi) left. There were about ten of us staying overnight. The sand was white, the water crystal-clear with fish, and the sunsets stunning… but the coral was pretty damaged.

Next, we headed south to Kuta Lombok. The most direct route via Sepi was marked as “small” on the map… mmm… The Lonely Planet—this was the *only* time it was “useful” (sic)—had a special warning saying many readers had been robbed in the area. Wanting to clear this up for my Voyage Forum friends, we took the plunge! The road was *completely* wrecked—potholes everywhere, and if you ignore the rain-carved ravines, it was like a pothole per square meter! I was searching for tarmac to park my wheels! After 80km and 3 hours of bone-rattling driving, with stunning views of Lombok’s arid southern countryside and deserted turquoise bays, we arrived in Kuta Lombok. On the way, instead of robbers and thieves, we only met schoolchildren with big smiles shouting cheerful “hellloooo’s.” We didn’t see a single other car the whole trip.

Kuta is nothing like its Balinese namesake. It stretches just a few hundred meters along a beautiful round-sand bay (yes, round—it rolls under your feet). About ten deserted restaurants and just as many guesthouses (5% occupancy, I was told—we only saw about ten Westerners in 3 days). No guesthouses face the beach; they’re all on the other side of the road in an inner garden. A bit of a shame. Still, the bay is gorgeous, and a few fishing families live in very basic huts on the beach. We decided to check out the Novotel to get a feel for the area. The lush vegetation contrasted with the surrounding aridity, two pools… all that fresh water being used, plus the Accor flag, made me want to head back to the fishermen’s huts. Finally, we found a guesthouse on the beach at the eastern end of Kuta Bay, just before the Novotel: “Lombok Baru.” It’s the only one on the beach. The bungalow was spotless, right by the sea, for 105,000 IDR/night. The Chinese-Indonesian family running the place told me they’d only been open for 3 years and were growing slowly as they saved up. A new bungalow was under construction, and the “garden” was still a work in progress.

The Tanjung Aan bay, a few kilometers east of Kuta, is stunning—huge, white sand, and almost no one except a few persistent sarong sellers. The bay is definitely worth a visit (if not a sunburn). A toothless old man even tried to sell us a coconut, improvising a song (after my girlfriend started singing to ignore them 😉). With his three words of broken English, he sang: “Coconut mist’errrr… mister coconuttttee… If no coconut, no monyyyy… Coconut mister…” for at least 10 minutes! A rare moment, a beautiful encounter. The song stuck with us for the rest of the trip—even now, I hum it to avoid getting too depressed about being back home. One evening, a Balinese waiter who’d been living in Lombok for 7 years gave us lots of info about the area, the culture, and the people. He talked about the security issues in Kuta—yes, there are frequent thefts (money, cars, etc.). For him, it’s due to the lack of education among many locals, who don’t see beyond their immediate needs and risk scaring tourists away (which is why Kuta is so deserted). After a few days there, you do get the sense that you shouldn’t tempt fate by flashing money or jewelry amid such poverty in southern Lombok. But calling it a “dangerous area” is a stretch! That won’t stop me from going back, though!

Next, we headed east—northeast, actually. I was curious about the small islands on my map, and I hadn’t found *anyone* who’d been there to give me tips. So we drove to Labu Pandan (115km, 3 hours—I may have pushed the Katana a bit…). What looked like a small village was actually just a guesthouse and a few fishing boats on the beach. The “Pondok Gili Lampu” guesthouse also sold basic supplies to locals and had a simple restaurant with 5 or 6 basic bungalows (60,000 IDR/night) and a beautiful deserted black-sand beach. They offered snorkeling trips to Gili Lampu and camping there (organized by the guesthouse), but there were no facilities or water on the island. The strong wind made us decide to stay on the beach—poor visibility for snorkeling and sand in the sleeping bags didn’t sound appealing… The owner, Yanto, didn’t speak a word of English but was absolutely lovely. Another heartwarming encounter that did us so much good. Life was sweet, and we let ourselves drift to the rhythm of faraway relaxation.

Then we headed to Sembalun Lawang, the least crowded starting point for the Rinjani trek (most people start from Senaru). The southern route was fine—we crossed a 1,700m pass. The only person we met was an ice cream vendor on a motorbike overtaking us on the climb—he must’ve been in a hurry, which is ironic for an ice cream seller! After 65km and 1h15 of winding roads, we arrived in Sembalun Lawang and parked our trusty Katana at “Sembalun Nauli,” which had 4 standalone bungalows (90,000 IDR/night) in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing around—just the Rinjani looming ahead, our goal for the next 3 days. The guesthouse arranged our gear (sleeping bags, tent), hired two porters, and bought food. I got a price of 1,400,000 IDR for 2 people for 3 days. I think you could get it down to 1,000,000 or 1,200,000 if you did it yourself, but we hadn’t seen a single person in SL (not a restaurant in sight—even the Rinjani Trekking Center was closed, the guy was supposedly napping…). I didn’t feel like stressing over it. It was a far cry from the 170 USD/person quoted in Senggigi!

The 3-Day Rinjani Trek was a unique experience—not just for the scenery but also for the (relative) “sharing” with the porters: Mister Adi (who spoke a little English) and Mister An (who only spoke Sasak and Indonesian). On the first day, we went from Sembalun to base camp: 1,700m elevation gain under the sun, 6 solid hours of hiking (not counting breaks). My shared backpack, weighing around 10kg, felt heavy on the climb. We took breaks to drink, while our porters smoked!! I don’t know how they did it! The next day, we left at 2:30 AM to reach the summit (1,500m elevation gain) by 6 AM for sunrise. The last 300 meters were brutal—a 35/40° slope, straight up in sand and small stones. Those who say you move a meter forward and slide 50cm back haven’t seen the slope! It’s more like 20cm forward and sometimes 20cm back… tough stuff. But we made it to the summit (3,726m)—not everyone does. A word to the wise: you’d better be in good shape and, above all, have the right mindset! More beautiful than the sunrise was the moonrise—almost full and reddish—around 4 AM. It was stunning! As for vertigo, sure, you’re walking along a ridge, but even for someone like me who’s not a fan of heights, it was fine. Back at base camp, Mister An had made delicious banana pancakes—a local ritual, apparently, and a treat for us! Then we descended to Segara Anak Lake in the crater. It was steep, and with our legs like telephone poles, it wasn’t easy: “Adeng adeng, Mister An!!!” We enjoyed the hot springs (40°C!) and I even swam in the lake itself—the water must’ve been around 20°C, incredibly pure. I was alone facing Gunung Baru, the active volcanic cone: unforgettable! On the third day, we climbed back out of the crater, then descended 2,000m to Senaru, where ojek (motorcycle taxis) were waiting to take us back to Sembalun to retrieve our car, still parked at Sembalun Nauli. Then we drove to Senggigi (2 hours, flat out), where this time we stayed at Dharmarie (150,000 IDR instead of 300,000 IDR)—spotless room, nice bathroom, much quieter than Lina! We returned our Suzuki Katana 3 days late (I thought they’d have a heart attack—they’d been looking for us everywhere, even going to Kuta!). Anyway, I paid for 2 extra days out of the 3, and we headed to catch the Perama boat directly to Gili Air from Senggigi (70,000 IDR/person).

We chose Gili Air based on the posts I’d read on Voyage Forum (thanks 😉). Somehow, we ended up with a French friend at Hotel Gili Air (yes, I know—after our Rinjani adventure, we treated ourselves…) on the north side of the island, where we negotiated the room down to 225,000 IDR/night from the listed 38 USD. The included breakfast was huge, and the seawater pool was a nice touch (if not the hotel staff…). The island was pretty nice—white sand, pretty fish, turtles—but the coral was damaged in many places. Hammock, snorkeling, grilled fish, and Bintang—a simple pleasure

After 3 days, the travel bug bit us again. We wanted to reach Komodo by boat. Two agencies offered 4-day one-way trips to Flores: Perama (1,400,000 IDR/person for deck sleeping) and another (name forgotten) for 850,000 IDR. Couldn’t negotiate with Perama—the next departure was in 5 days (every 6 days, I think). We went with the other one. Everything seemed fine (the boat actually left from Labuhan Lombok, east of Lombok, which we reached by bus from Gili Air) until the agency told us there were only 2 flights a week from Labuan Bajo in Flores back to Bali, which would leave us stuck for 3 days in Flores and make us miss our return flight to Kuala Lumpur. To top it off, the agency lady said we were only 6 people signed up, and the boat wouldn’t leave with fewer than 8… so it fell through. We decided to end our trip with a few days in Bali to see how the island had changed since our last visit in 2003.

I won’t go on about Bali—it’s much better known than Lombok—but here are 3 great spots: - Ubud: So much construction since 2003! You’d think you were in a French city center with all the shops! “Nick’s Pension,” near the top of Monkey Forest—take a small alley to the left as you go up, all the way to the end. A green paradise in the middle of rice fields, quiet, just 50m from Monkey Forest. Nice pool. 300,000 IDR/night, negotiated down to 150,000 IDR. - Amed: “Wa Wa We We II” (120,000 IDR/night)—gorgeous infinity pool, charming bungalows, “relax” vibe. - Jimbaran: “Villa Puri Royan” (from 120,000 IDR)—like a hacienda on 3 levels with a pool in the middle. Right next to the beach warungs. *The* good deal in Jimbaran.

When you go from Lombok to Bali, you notice a clear difference. First, in terms of development. In Lombok, cars are rare outside Mataram/Senggigi. Development is far behind Bali—probably what Bali was like 20 years ago! I heard that construction on an international airport in Praya, central Lombok, started on August 1, 2006… Even if it takes 5 or 10 years to build, maybe it’s time to go. Then there’s the “people” factor—culture or religion plays a role. It’s true that it’s less easy than in Bali (which is so unique…), and relationships can be tougher, even tense at times. Maybe it’s just less accessible for “whirlwind travelers” like us. The car also saved us from many hassles (negotiating bemos, ferry arrivals, etc.). Still, we had some amazing encounters and never felt unsafe. I imagine other experiences could be different, especially if you’re easily intimidated.

I hope you’ll find some useful info in this post. When you visit this part of the world, try to get off the beaten path of the Gili Islands or Senggigi. Lombok and its people are well worth a detour.

Selamat Jalan

Hi everyone,

I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences about marrying a Cuban and moving to Cuba (not the other way around!). Yes, some of us actually *want* to stay on the island! Is it possible to work there without too much hassle, or is it really complicated?

Thanks in advance!

...

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

...

Hello everyone,

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

-2- These routes mainly use Cessna 208 Caravans.



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

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



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

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



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



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

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



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



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



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



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



...

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

...

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

...

During the 60s and 70s, thousands of travelers hit the road to India. Some were backpackers or hippies, but not all. In this collective anthology featuring around twenty contributors (including GeorgesOz), you’ll also find truth-seekers, a couple who went on their honeymoon to get married in Bengal... and "crazy" folks who set off on VéloSolex bikes...

Worth noting: all contributors donated their royalties to support the Céline Hegron clinic in a poor neighborhood of Varanasi.

Hi there,

While reading some travel journals, I notice that we always reflect on the people of the countries we visit.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on which people charmed you the most during your travels?

I’m not looking for controversy, just reflections and personal feelings. Looking forward to reading your replies...

Hello everyone.

Preamble:

Sooner or later, you’ve got to take the plunge! I thought lockdown would be the perfect time to start this travel journal, but between working from home and gardening, I just didn’t have the time (or the motivation). Plus, long-haul trips weren’t really on the cards back then... But then I stumbled upon my photos and thought, "I’ve got to share my latest adventure in Brazil—you guessed it!"

First, a little flashback: some of you (yes, really, in DMs!) pointed out the big gaps in my travel journals—India in 2019, Vietnam in 2018, so many missed opportunities!

Truth is, for India, I traveled with a private guide and honestly didn’t have much to add to the tons of well-documented journals already out there. Plus, I still haven’t decided if I love or hate India... So, how do you share your feelings when you’re not even sure yourself? As for Vietnam, I had plenty to say—even though the itinerary was pretty classic—but I’ll admit the vibe on this part of the forum at the time kinda put me off for a while... And time flies, and memories fade... Anyway, just wanted to clear that up for my (many or few) readers. *Tudo bem*, let’s get started!!

Kattegat isn’t just the name of the village in the TV series *Vikings*—it’s also the stretch of water separating Denmark from Sweden... the sea, basically! And further north, you’ve got Norway and its fjords! Originally, I’d planned to just do a loop around Kattegat, with the *Under* restaurant in Lindesnes as our anniversary treat... but along the way, we thought, why not "push" a little further north, keeping an eye on the budget since we’d chosen to travel by car in June 2025 through Scandinavia.

Why by car when most travelers opt for a camper van, while others prefer the comfort of cruises? Well, because we don’t own a camper van, renting one is pricey, and then you’ve got to add fuel costs (those things guzzle gas!), ferry fees, and other "tolls." All things considered, we went for mostly rentals—especially since there were four of us at the start of the trip. We spent the first week in Denmark with our daughter and son-in-law. Then they flew back to Belgium, and we continued our adventure as a couple. For accommodation, we mainly booked Airbnb apartments, which helped keep costs down and, most importantly, let us prepare our own meals (diet, diet!). In this travel journal, you’ll discover (or rediscover, for those who followed my older ones) our unbridled love for theme parks, museums, unique experiences, and—especially in Denmark—Legos! Unfortunately, we didn’t do any hikes this year because the unpredictable weather had made the trails slippery, and since I’d already taken three tumbles during the trip, I didn’t want to risk another! In the end, we traveled for 32 days, covered 6,200 km, and most importantly, discovered the charming country of Denmark, marveled at Norway’s breathtaking fjords—all without suffering the heatwave that hit France and Belgium that June! If you’ve got any questions, don’t hesitate to ask!

Hi everyone,

My husband and I have just gone through this stage of a Franco-Togolese marriage—he’s Togolese, and I’m French. Given how complicated things can get with the administration, I thought I’d leave this post here. If you’d like advice or want to learn from our experience, don’t hesitate to ask...

Good luck to all of you in the same situation!!

Hello everyone!

We're off! After exploring the north, the four friends have now discovered the south. We’re excited to share this new travel journal, dedicated to our little group and our strong friendship, written by Richard and illustrated with Kate’s photos. I’ll chime in from time to time with practical tips.

First of all, a big thank you to everyone on VoyageForum who helped us plan this trip. It would’ve been quite different if we’d just relied on guidebooks.

The itinerary lasted just over 3 weeks: Mahabalipuram, Pondicherry, Thanjavur, the Chettinad region, Madurai, Munnar, Munroe Island, Cochin, and Chennai. We traveled by train, taxi, and private car with a driver, took a domestic flight, and stayed in guesthouses, Airbnb apartments, and hotels. For each of us, including flights, the total budget barely reached 2000 €, and we didn’t hold back—knowing we avoid resorts and love street food and small Indian restaurants.

Hello,

After several years, I’ve finally decided to repost a travel journal on the forum. We returned a few weeks ago from an incredible trip to Kenya, and it’s reignited my desire to share our emotions in the face of these animals.

Kenya wasn’t originally a priority for us in terms of safari—we had the impression it was too touristy. So, we started with other destinations: Namibia, Tanzania, Botswana, and South Africa. But as I did more research, especially on the forum (thanks in part to Sylvie’s many trips), I eventually convinced myself that Kenya could be magnificent, as long as we chose our itinerary carefully and avoided peak seasons.

We ended up going in January, from the 17th to the 31st. We worked with a travel agency (TP) that crafted a custom itinerary for us: Samburu-Ol Pejeta-Naivasha-Maji Moto-Maasai Mara-Diani. They partnered with a local French-speaking agency, and everything was perfectly organized. Our trip exceeded all our expectations, and none of it would’ve been as amazing without our guide, Alfred. He accompanied us for 10 days and was a fantastic travel companion—professional, respectful of the animals, and always in good spirits. We formed a great bond with him in such a short time.

- **January 17th** After meeting up with Juliette and Charlotte in Rennes the night before, we left at 4 AM for Roissy Charles de Gaulle Airport. The thick fog made the drive pretty rough, but we arrived safely around 7:45 AM. A Blue Valet driver was waiting to take our car. Check-in went smoothly, and we waited patiently for our 10:40 AM flight. Unfortunately, despite boarding on time, a passenger was missing, and we had to find a replacement last minute. Then, another passenger who had checked in and dropped off their luggage wasn’t on the plane, so they had to unload their bags. After a long period of uncertainty and spotty communication from the crew, we finally took off over an hour late.

We arrived in Nairobi in the late afternoon, 45 minutes behind schedule. The administrative formalities were endless—it took nearly 1.5 hours from landing to leaving the airport with our luggage. When we stepped out, Alfred, our guide, was waiting with a big smile and drove us to the Eka Hotel, not far from the airport. Exhausted from the long journey, we fell asleep quickly.

- **January 18th** Alfred met us at 7 AM for a long drive to Samburu Reserve. We had a peaceful night, unlike the girls, who barely slept because their neighbors were talking loudly all night. Things even escalated when Charlotte started shouting insults to get them to quiet down, but it didn’t work.

It was Sunday, so traffic around Nairobi and along the route was light. Aside from a quick "technical stop," we drove straight through and arrived in Samburu after just under 6 hours. Because of the lower altitude (around 1,000m on average), it was hot—over 30°C in mid-January.

As soon as we entered the reserve, we spotted some impalas and quickly came across one of the region’s endemic species: the reticulated giraffe, which is absolutely stunning.



While heading to our camp for lunch, Alfred crossed paths with another vehicle and learned that a leopard was nearby. We started searching, and a few minutes later, Anny spotted a shape in a tree—it was our leopard!





There were actually two of them—a mother and her adolescent. The young one was perched high in the tree, in the shade. We got to observe them for a good half-hour in excellent conditions, with just one other vehicle nearby.





Alfred also noticed that the mother had hidden prey (a gerenuk gazelle) in the vegetation, away from prying eyes.

It was time to head to our camp, the Ashnil Samburu Camp, located in the Buffalo Springs area, by the river, in an idyllic setting surrounded by the region’s typical vegetation.





The welcome was fantastic—we immediately felt at home, and that feeling lasted throughout our 3-day stay in the reserve. It was 2 PM, but no one rushed us to the table. Our waitress, Sheila, who took care of us the whole time, was as lovely as the rest of the team. Barely seated, we were invited to watch an elephant passing right by the camp, in front of the restaurant. This trip was off to a great start!

After lunch, we relaxed by the pool. Monkeys, especially vervets, were everywhere, and a camp employee was assigned to keep an eye on them and shoo them away if needed (especially the baboons).

A little before 4 PM, we met up with Alfred for our first game drive. Just outside the camp, a few elephants were in the valley near the river.





We’d see them in the same area almost every day. We also spotted some gazelles.

Hi everyone,

I’d love to share a little travel journal from our 14-day/12-night road trip with our two teens (14 and 17) in February/March 2020. A huge thank you to all of you who helped me plan this trip to South Africa—your patience with my endless questions was amazing!



We left Lyon on Saturday, February 22 at 7:00 AM and arrived in Johannesburg at 10:00 PM after a short layover in Amsterdam. Flights cost 440 € per person (booked in October), with carry-on luggage. We added just one checked bag for the whole family (80 € round-trip with the free Flying Blue membership). Since we’d be moving around a lot, we packed light! In Lyon, we reserved parking at P5 in advance for 70 € for 14 days. The Air France/KLM flight was smooth. When we landed, we picked up our bags and had booked a night at the Aero Guest Lodge, just 5 minutes from the airport, with a free shuttle and breakfast. All you have to do is send a WhatsApp message when you arrive at the airport to let the shuttle driver know. The tricky part? Finding him in the terminal—he wasn’t holding a sign with the hotel’s name. 🤪 A South African called him for me since my English wasn’t great (and I had to get used to the accent 😛), and helped us spot the driver (who was actually less than 5 meters away!) with other guests. When we got to the hotel: all good, except we were 10 people in a van meant for 7. The room was spacious—one king-size bed and two single beds for the kids—with a simple but clean bathroom, a garden, pool, and breakfast (which we didn’t try). All for 65 €, so an awesome value!

After a restful night, we woke up at 6:00 AM to catch the shuttle back to the airport. Just a heads-up: there’s only one shuttle per hour in the morning, and Kulula canceled our 9:00 AM flight, moving it to 8:00 AM—so no time for breakfast (it starts at 6:30). We waited 15 minutes in the lovely garden for the driver, who dropped us off at the airport in 5 minutes. We checked in for our flight to Cape Town, which cost around 40 € (including two checked bags per person). We grabbed breakfast at the airport instead (less than 20 € for all four of us—one of the nice surprises of South Africa!), and arrived in Cape Town at 10:20 AM.

After quickly picking up our bags, we headed to the Avis counter and left with a Toyota Corolla for 80 € for 4 days (rented with the Flying Blue card—free additional driver). Everything’s on the left... not easy, but it works if you plan your route well. We drove to our Airbnb in Constantia. We were surprised to see animals, bikes, and pedestrians on the highway! We arrived around 11:30 AM at our rental—a huge house in the vineyards, in a super secure neighborhood, about 15-20 minutes from Hout Bay. It felt like Beverly Hills, but with super-high walls and barbed wire around the villas. 😕



We dropped off our bags, changed into shorts (it was around 30°C/86°F), and headed to the Bay Harbour Market in Hout Bay. We had lunch there—such a great vibe! We wandered through the stalls, everyone picked their own dish, and we sat down on the terrace. There was music, artisans of all kinds... a really nice moment.



I’d withdrawn 50 € before leaving... and that gave me change to pay the parking attendant. Lunch cost around 30 € for four, including food and drinks.



After browsing the artisan stalls, we headed to Hout Bay Beach near the restaurant, Marina Wharf (another small tip for the parking attendant—we’d have to get used to that!). We stopped to admire the sea lions. An ice cream for 1 €? No way we were saying no! 🙂





The fatigue was starting to hit, so we headed to the grocery store 10 minutes away (Constantia shopping center) and then had an aperitif in front of the vineyards, opening a delicious bottle of white wine.

We’ve been back for a month now, so it’s high time I posted the story of our adventures! 😉 I’d also like to thank everyone who shared their own experiences on this forum (or elsewhere) and gave us tips—it really helped us plan our trip.

14/09/2019: Johannesburg - Vryburg After months of waiting and reading other travelers’ journals, it’s finally our turn! We arrived in Johannesburg from Nantes and Paris in the morning. We looked for the Bushlore rep—we’d rented our 4x4 from them—but there was no sign with our name! « Bushlore? She’s a woman, I saw her a few minutes ago, » someone told us. A minute later, the Bushlore employee showed up: a man! 🤪 He sped onto the highway, and just 30 minutes later, we arrived at the rental place. It’s a big operation with good organization and lots of vehicles—pretty reassuring. Our 4x4 was there, a classic Toyota Hilux fully equipped for safari: rooftop tent, dual diesel tanks, 60-liter water reserve, two batteries, two spare tires, all the camping gear, plus everything needed for *désensablement* (getting unstuck from sand). Speaking of which, is it "désensablage" or "désensablement"? Best to just avoid getting stuck in the first place! 😏 Good news… or not: the vehicle was brand new, with barely 100 kilometers on the odometer. On one hand, we figured we wouldn’t have mechanical issues or a fridge breakdown, but on the other, we knew it wouldn’t be easy to return it without a single scratch. Either way, it was our first time renting a 4x4, and we were impressed.



We set off toward Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park—it’s not exactly around the corner! In 1994 (when Mandela had just become President) and 2007, during our two previous trips to South Africa, we loved this park, so we couldn’t imagine going to Botswana without returning. The road was pretty monotonous, with not much to see except a few ostriches.







We stopped for the night in Vryburg at the Kameelboom Lodge campsite. It was a bit noisy since it’s close to the road, and the facilities weren’t great, but it was fine for one night.