“Slow travel” is a concept that some tout as a philosophical revolution in travel. But on closer inspection, it’s nothing more than a marketing repackaging of an age-old practice.
This term is wrapped in an aura of intellectualism. It promises to reinvent the experience of travel by valuing slowness, contemplation, and cultural immersion.
The term “slow travel” claims to bring depth to travel, but it often relies on clichés.
Taking your time, meeting locals, avoiding quick visits—these practices have always existed and are nothing revolutionary.
Before the era of airplanes, high-speed trains, and express stays, traveling necessarily meant taking your time. Pilgrims, merchants, and explorers already practiced a form of “slow travel,” without hashtags or self-proclaimed spiritual guides.
Crossing lands on foot or by horse required total immersion in the landscapes, cultures, and unpredictability of the journey. Yet, no one attributed philosophical intentions to them: it was a necessity.
Slow travel, in its current version, may be less a philosophy than a reflection of the contradictions of an affluent class searching for meaning in a world they help overload.
So-called “slow” travel is presented as a privileged way to understand a culture, but this claim is debatable. A region never represents an entire country.
Immersing yourself in a community doesn’t guarantee a complete or more authentic understanding than any other way of traveling.
Slowness in itself doesn’t guarantee depth or ethics. You can immerse yourself in a place over a weekend, just as you can spend months in a country without grasping its subtleties.
By positioning itself as an antidote to “fast” tourism, slow travel fetishizes a temporality that only makes sense if it’s accompanied by real openness and an effort to integrate.
But this over-intellectualization often masks a desire to belong to a trend or a need to stand out socially.
Behind this posture sometimes lies a whim: the urge to reinvent one’s life elsewhere in an idealized form. But this quest for elsewhere remains fundamentally a way to escape or respond to unease, rather than a true commitment to the cultures visited.
When we talk about “encounters” while traveling, we often forget that these exchanges are facilitated by biased contexts. As a traveler, you’re seen as a temporary visitor, unattached, and that changes the dynamic.
Locals, whether curious or used to tourists, adopt a different stance than they would with a neighbor they see daily.
This interaction is also tinged with asymmetry: the traveler has the luxury of time and availability, while in daily life, personal concerns often take precedence over the desire to connect.
The flip side is that the openness displayed while traveling is often a facade. We boast about chatting with a fisherman or sharing a meal with a local family, but how many of these encounters lead to a real understanding of cultural differences or sincere reflection?
Once home, these moments become anecdotes, social trophies to show off, without fundamentally changing our relationship with others in our daily lives.
By imposing a definition, we push people to adapt their practices to fit an idealized model. This can lead to a paradoxical standardization: “slow travel” becomes a checklist of behaviors (meetings, immersion, slowness).
The “bobos” (bourgeois-bohemians), often in search of meaning in a world saturated with options, believe that giving a name to a practice grants it legitimacy or moral value. But this obsession with framing and theorizing travel only drains it of its spontaneity.
Someone who grew up at the crossroads of multiple cultures, on the other hand, doesn’t feel this need. For them, traveling isn’t a philosophical project but an intrinsic part of their life.
The very concept of “slow travel” can seem absurd: why glorify what’s simply natural?
Why try to turn into an ideology what should be a personal, intimate experience, free from semantic constraints?
Ultimately, this need for labeling, this frantic quest to name every gesture, reveals a society craving simplicity.
Travel, in its purest form, doesn’t need justification or slogans. It doesn’t need slowness or speed: it’s simply lived.
Perhaps the real challenge is to unlearn this Western habit of conceptualizing everything that should simply be felt.
For many, travel is a parenthesis, a temporary break from daily life. But if we reject this distinction between “home” and “elsewhere,” every human life becomes a continuous journey through varied environments.
From this perspective, “slow travel” loses all meaning, because living somewhere—whether for a week or five years—is part of the same experience of adaptation.
So, we ask the fans of marketing slogans: is travel a parenthesis or a journey?
“Slow travel” is often driven by a Western eco-bobo ideology, tinged with post-colonial guilt. This discourse promotes a supposedly virtuous way of traveling while forgetting that these practices remain a privilege.
Far from deconstructing power dynamics, it sometimes reinforces them by glorifying a different kind of consumption, still centered on comfort.
There’s also a condescending side to this rhetoric. By idealizing slowness, slow travel advocates imply that those who travel quickly or on a budget are less “authentic” in their approach.
Yet, isn’t that a form of contempt? Do those who leave for a well-deserved week after months of hard work deserve less consideration?
Concepts like “slow travel” or “sustainable tourism” seem hollow when reduced to marketing slogans or standardized behaviors. They confine travel to preconceived frameworks, stripping it of its spontaneous and unpredictable dimension.
Instead of categorizing, it would be more relevant to recognize the plurality of human experiences without trying to define them.
Slow travel doesn’t invent anything. It simply puts into words—and often slogans—what travel has always been for those who practice it with intention.
Maybe we should stop trying to theorize every movement and simply rediscover travel for what it is: a human experience, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, but always personal.
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This catchy and somewhat mysterious title comes from several questions I’ve been asking myself.
VF has been back open for a reasonable number of weeks and months now. The number of visitors overall matches past averages, but the number of members online in the last 24 hours seems relatively lower than what we used to see.
Yet, to my surprise, I’m seeing fewer travel journals, way fewer messages, and way fewer questions. I don’t see many new registered users online, and I notice a number of members who are logged in but either aren’t participating or have stopped participating.
Something’s not adding up for me because, in my opinion, VF is still appealing, and I don’t see which other sites could really compete.
Was there a real break between pre- and post-Covid? Does it just take more time for some people to discover the site or learn that it’s active again? Do people now prefer quick consumption on sites like FB or others I’m not familiar with? Where have the site’s old-timers gone, and what are they doing with their time now? What’s really going on here?
VF has been back open for a reasonable number of weeks and months now. The number of visitors overall matches past averages, but the number of members online in the last 24 hours seems relatively lower than what we used to see.
Yet, to my surprise, I’m seeing fewer travel journals, way fewer messages, and way fewer questions. I don’t see many new registered users online, and I notice a number of members who are logged in but either aren’t participating or have stopped participating.
Something’s not adding up for me because, in my opinion, VF is still appealing, and I don’t see which other sites could really compete.
Was there a real break between pre- and post-Covid? Does it just take more time for some people to discover the site or learn that it’s active again? Do people now prefer quick consumption on sites like FB or others I’m not familiar with? Where have the site’s old-timers gone, and what are they doing with their time now? What’s really going on here?
Now that the curtain has fallen on the past year, it’s time to see what’s happening around here.
It seems pretty quiet, but I’ll read more in detail later.
First, I need to tell you all an anecdote.
My eldest little girl, in her third year of law school, was really scared she wouldn’t pass the year. I told her: “Trust yourself, you’ve worked so hard, and worst case, if you fail, you’ll just redo the year.” “But I don’t think I’ll make it—they changed the rules, and if I mess up even one unit, I have to start all over.” I knew her grades weren’t exactly stellar, and with what I was about to say, I wasn’t taking much of a risk. “Here’s the deal, sweetheart: if you pass, I promise I’ll take you to India, just the two of us.” I have to admit, India is a country I’ve talked about so much to all my grandchildren that in their minds, it’s become a magical, mythical place (hmm).
July had barely begun when my phone rang, her name flashing on the screen. “Mamido, I did it!” My promise came rushing back—oh no, oh no, oh no! “Congratulations, sweetheart!” A little shyly, she said: “Is the India trip still on?”
And me, replying: “Of course it is!”
And that’s that—a promise is a promise, or you risk losing that precious trust that keeps hearts warm and at peace.
We’re leaving in February. Only 8 days—yikes, the carbon footprint! But we can’t miss her tutorials, or she’ll be kicked out. Personally, that works just fine for me.
Going to India has become a challenge for me. It’s far, it’s exhausting, I sweat, I hate mosquitoes, the spices bother my mouth when I used to love them. There’s noise all the time—at night, the dogs bark nonstop, and we almost get run over. I’ll get lost in the streets because my sense of direction has vanished. I don’t like rice anymore. All that chaos and those cultural differences that once enchanted me now just overwhelm me. But I promised.
The upside—and it’s a big one—Raman, the same driver I’ve had forever, will be at the airport with a sign with our names. We’ll stop at the same little shop for chai (or tea, plain and simple) with that aroma that intoxicates me, halfway through the trip.
It’ll be a tiny trip—staying with friends, I’ll show her a few places I love: Chidambaram, Mamallapuram, and the clinic where I worked. Then we’ll head back. My little girl will go home to her parents.
As for me, I’ll leave right away for our Scottish island with Homme for our chilly winter.
How can you love a country so much you want to live there, then suddenly reject it, no longer able to appreciate what once made it special? That’s the mystery of love, I guess.
First, I need to tell you all an anecdote.
My eldest little girl, in her third year of law school, was really scared she wouldn’t pass the year. I told her: “Trust yourself, you’ve worked so hard, and worst case, if you fail, you’ll just redo the year.” “But I don’t think I’ll make it—they changed the rules, and if I mess up even one unit, I have to start all over.” I knew her grades weren’t exactly stellar, and with what I was about to say, I wasn’t taking much of a risk. “Here’s the deal, sweetheart: if you pass, I promise I’ll take you to India, just the two of us.” I have to admit, India is a country I’ve talked about so much to all my grandchildren that in their minds, it’s become a magical, mythical place (hmm).
July had barely begun when my phone rang, her name flashing on the screen. “Mamido, I did it!” My promise came rushing back—oh no, oh no, oh no! “Congratulations, sweetheart!” A little shyly, she said: “Is the India trip still on?”
And me, replying: “Of course it is!”
And that’s that—a promise is a promise, or you risk losing that precious trust that keeps hearts warm and at peace.
We’re leaving in February. Only 8 days—yikes, the carbon footprint! But we can’t miss her tutorials, or she’ll be kicked out. Personally, that works just fine for me.
Going to India has become a challenge for me. It’s far, it’s exhausting, I sweat, I hate mosquitoes, the spices bother my mouth when I used to love them. There’s noise all the time—at night, the dogs bark nonstop, and we almost get run over. I’ll get lost in the streets because my sense of direction has vanished. I don’t like rice anymore. All that chaos and those cultural differences that once enchanted me now just overwhelm me. But I promised.
The upside—and it’s a big one—Raman, the same driver I’ve had forever, will be at the airport with a sign with our names. We’ll stop at the same little shop for chai (or tea, plain and simple) with that aroma that intoxicates me, halfway through the trip.
It’ll be a tiny trip—staying with friends, I’ll show her a few places I love: Chidambaram, Mamallapuram, and the clinic where I worked. Then we’ll head back. My little girl will go home to her parents.
As for me, I’ll leave right away for our Scottish island with Homme for our chilly winter.
How can you love a country so much you want to live there, then suddenly reject it, no longer able to appreciate what once made it special? That’s the mystery of love, I guess.
I thought I knew the definition, but since VF reopened, I’ve been wondering—so if you could help me out, that’d be great! 🙂.
Thanks a lot!
Thanks a lot!
Hi everyone,
I’m planning a third trip to Madagascar in 2026. This time, heading north and then part of the west coast before going back up.
The question I’m asking myself—same as during our first visits—is Nosy Be or not?
Of course, the photos show stunning beaches, and when you mention Madagascar, almost everyone says Nosy Be or at least has heard of it. That’s actually why we didn’t include it in our itineraries before, especially since we’d already seen paradise-like beaches in the south, and we had them all to ourselves because they were hard to reach.
On the other hand, I’ve always been drawn to Île Sainte-Marie, but from the north, you have to go back down to Tana, which I’m okay with in principle.
So, what’s your take? Nosy Be and its surroundings—what do you think? Just tourists looking to party?
Thanks
Reunion Island, a French island located in the Indian Ocean, is characterized by remarkable geographical and cultural diversity. This island offers an immersive experience that harmoniously blends wild nature and human heritage, between active volcanoes, mountainous cirques, impressive waterfalls, and charming villages. This report explores the must-see spots, from the lunar landscapes of Piton de la Fournaise to the mountainous trails of the Mafate cirque, not forgetting the natural pools and tropical gardens. Each section highlights a distinct aspect of this vibrant island, supported by geological and historical information, as well as accounts from those who have visited.
Piton de la Fournaise, which reaches a height of 2,632 meters, is one of the most active volcanoes on our planet. Its frequent eruptions constantly shape the landscape, offering a natural spectacle where burning lava meets the ocean. The trail leading to the Dolomieu crater, though difficult to access, is open to hikers and rewards them with a panorama of vast expanses of solidified lava and volcanic gas emissions. It’s usually best to visit at this time of day to avoid clouds and enjoy the low light that enhances the lunar reliefs.
Volcanic activity has also given rise to unique structures, such as the lava tunnels of Grand Brûlé, where tourists can walk along cooled lava flows. For geology enthusiasts, the site of Cassé de la Rivière de l'Est reveals incredible basaltic organ pipes, testifying to ancient eruptions.
Despite its inactivity, Piton des Neiges (3,071 m) remains the island’s highest peak. Its ascent, via the GR R2 trail, passes through virgin forests before reaching rocky landscapes where sunrise offers a 360° panoramic view of the three cirques. This extinct volcano symbolizes Reunion Island’s geological history, characterized by successive collapses that gave birth to the surrounding cirques.
A UNESCO World Heritage site, the Salazie cirque charms with its lush greenery and hamlets clinging to cliffs. Hell-Bourg, listed among France’s most beautiful villages, delights with its brightly colored Creole houses and picturesque cobblestone streets. The trek to Voile de la Mariée, a famous waterfall, winds through bamboo groves and natural pools perfect for a swim.
Mafate, a preserved haven of tranquility, is accessible only on foot or by helicopter. Places like La Nouvelle or Marla, small villages called "îlets," offer a glimpse into traditional life on Reunion Island. The GR R1 trail, which circles Piton des Neiges, immerses hikers in breathtaking landscapes, alternating between rocky ridges and narrow valleys.
Known for its lentils and wines, Cilaos combines culinary delights with stunning scenery. The healing properties of the thermal springs at Bras-Rouge are highlighted by the trails leading to them, which also offer panoramas like the Col du Taïbit, a privileged access point to Mafate.
This unique spot features pebble beaches, waterfalls by the sea, and a palm forest. Picnickers enjoy its peaceful atmosphere, while local fishermen maintain ancient traditions. Nearby, the Garden of Perfumes and Spices cultivates vanilla, cloves, and turmeric, offering an olfactory experience at the heart of Reunionese agriculture.
Bassin Boeuf, famous for its turquoise waters, is a popular swimming spot, framed by volcanic formations. Further south, the Langevin River creates a series of waterfalls and natural pools, including the famous Trou de Fer, a 300-meter-deep canyon where water cascades in a shimmering curtain.
The island’s capital blends colonial heritage with modernity. The Léon Dierx Museum showcases modern art, while the Grand Marché draws visitors with its spices and local crafts. The Barachois promenade, along the sea, evokes the city’s maritime past with its 18th-century cannons.
The Domaine de Villèle, once a colonial plantation, now houses a museum dedicated to the history of slavery and a geranium distillery. The Chapelle Pointue, with its neo-Gothic style, offers a striking contrast to the brightly colored Tamil temples surrounding it.
The GR R1 and R2 trails are popular with experienced hikers, but more accessible routes like the Piton Maido (2,200 m) are suitable for beginners. The latter offers an unparalleled view of the Mafate cirque at dawn.
The coast of Saint-Gilles offers activities like diving, surfing, and paddleboarding, while ULM flights provide an impressive aerial view of Piton de la Fournaise.
Reunion Island presents itself as a microcosm where every landscape tells a story—geological, cultural, or human. Between the fury of volcanoes and the calm of cirques, between the bustle of markets and the tranquility of natural pools, this destination offers a diverse experience. Travelers are encouraged to mix their activities: morning hikes, cultural visits during the day, and moments of relaxation at dusk. Preserving these wonders relies on responsible tourism, respectful of fragile ecosystems and local communities.
Piton de la Fournaise, which reaches a height of 2,632 meters, is one of the most active volcanoes on our planet. Its frequent eruptions constantly shape the landscape, offering a natural spectacle where burning lava meets the ocean. The trail leading to the Dolomieu crater, though difficult to access, is open to hikers and rewards them with a panorama of vast expanses of solidified lava and volcanic gas emissions. It’s usually best to visit at this time of day to avoid clouds and enjoy the low light that enhances the lunar reliefs.
Volcanic activity has also given rise to unique structures, such as the lava tunnels of Grand Brûlé, where tourists can walk along cooled lava flows. For geology enthusiasts, the site of Cassé de la Rivière de l'Est reveals incredible basaltic organ pipes, testifying to ancient eruptions.
Despite its inactivity, Piton des Neiges (3,071 m) remains the island’s highest peak. Its ascent, via the GR R2 trail, passes through virgin forests before reaching rocky landscapes where sunrise offers a 360° panoramic view of the three cirques. This extinct volcano symbolizes Reunion Island’s geological history, characterized by successive collapses that gave birth to the surrounding cirques.
A UNESCO World Heritage site, the Salazie cirque charms with its lush greenery and hamlets clinging to cliffs. Hell-Bourg, listed among France’s most beautiful villages, delights with its brightly colored Creole houses and picturesque cobblestone streets. The trek to Voile de la Mariée, a famous waterfall, winds through bamboo groves and natural pools perfect for a swim.
Mafate, a preserved haven of tranquility, is accessible only on foot or by helicopter. Places like La Nouvelle or Marla, small villages called "îlets," offer a glimpse into traditional life on Reunion Island. The GR R1 trail, which circles Piton des Neiges, immerses hikers in breathtaking landscapes, alternating between rocky ridges and narrow valleys.
Known for its lentils and wines, Cilaos combines culinary delights with stunning scenery. The healing properties of the thermal springs at Bras-Rouge are highlighted by the trails leading to them, which also offer panoramas like the Col du Taïbit, a privileged access point to Mafate.
This unique spot features pebble beaches, waterfalls by the sea, and a palm forest. Picnickers enjoy its peaceful atmosphere, while local fishermen maintain ancient traditions. Nearby, the Garden of Perfumes and Spices cultivates vanilla, cloves, and turmeric, offering an olfactory experience at the heart of Reunionese agriculture.
Bassin Boeuf, famous for its turquoise waters, is a popular swimming spot, framed by volcanic formations. Further south, the Langevin River creates a series of waterfalls and natural pools, including the famous Trou de Fer, a 300-meter-deep canyon where water cascades in a shimmering curtain.
The island’s capital blends colonial heritage with modernity. The Léon Dierx Museum showcases modern art, while the Grand Marché draws visitors with its spices and local crafts. The Barachois promenade, along the sea, evokes the city’s maritime past with its 18th-century cannons.
The Domaine de Villèle, once a colonial plantation, now houses a museum dedicated to the history of slavery and a geranium distillery. The Chapelle Pointue, with its neo-Gothic style, offers a striking contrast to the brightly colored Tamil temples surrounding it.
The GR R1 and R2 trails are popular with experienced hikers, but more accessible routes like the Piton Maido (2,200 m) are suitable for beginners. The latter offers an unparalleled view of the Mafate cirque at dawn.
The coast of Saint-Gilles offers activities like diving, surfing, and paddleboarding, while ULM flights provide an impressive aerial view of Piton de la Fournaise.
Reunion Island presents itself as a microcosm where every landscape tells a story—geological, cultural, or human. Between the fury of volcanoes and the calm of cirques, between the bustle of markets and the tranquility of natural pools, this destination offers a diverse experience. Travelers are encouraged to mix their activities: morning hikes, cultural visits during the day, and moments of relaxation at dusk. Preserving these wonders relies on responsible tourism, respectful of fragile ecosystems and local communities.
Hi everyone,
I’m new to the forum, and I’m writing today to ask the community for feedback on a site concept I’ve been working on for a few weeks.
The idea is to create a worldwide map (starting with France) where anyone can rate a city—or even a neighborhood in a large city—based on a set of criteria (cleanliness, safety, green spaces, cost of living, etc.) and add a comment highlighting the positives and negatives of the area. It’d be like rating a city or neighborhood the way we currently rate restaurants or hotels.
The goal is to inform other users about the nicer (or less nice) neighborhoods in a country and help them choose where to book their next hotel or Airbnb—so they don’t end up in a sketchy area. Beyond that, it’s also about letting people pick their next travel destination based on what matters most to them (cost of living, safety, shopping, transportation, etc.). Ratings will, of course, be moderated to prevent abuse, and users will need to provide proof (like a utility bill or evidence they’ve visited the city) before they can leave a comment.
I’ve had a test version developed for Paris with the core features, and I’ve named the site CityRate.
I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback! The site is aimed at both locals looking to move to a new neighborhood or city and travelers who want to carefully choose where to spend their next vacation.
Thanks in advance! 😊
I’m new to the forum, and I’m writing today to ask the community for feedback on a site concept I’ve been working on for a few weeks.
The idea is to create a worldwide map (starting with France) where anyone can rate a city—or even a neighborhood in a large city—based on a set of criteria (cleanliness, safety, green spaces, cost of living, etc.) and add a comment highlighting the positives and negatives of the area. It’d be like rating a city or neighborhood the way we currently rate restaurants or hotels.
The goal is to inform other users about the nicer (or less nice) neighborhoods in a country and help them choose where to book their next hotel or Airbnb—so they don’t end up in a sketchy area. Beyond that, it’s also about letting people pick their next travel destination based on what matters most to them (cost of living, safety, shopping, transportation, etc.). Ratings will, of course, be moderated to prevent abuse, and users will need to provide proof (like a utility bill or evidence they’ve visited the city) before they can leave a comment.
I’ve had a test version developed for Paris with the core features, and I’ve named the site CityRate.
I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback! The site is aimed at both locals looking to move to a new neighborhood or city and travelers who want to carefully choose where to spend their next vacation.
Thanks in advance! 😊
Hi there,
The title might be a bit long, but I hope it’s completely understandable!
When it comes to choosing your next trip, what tips the scales in favor of Eritrea over Ibiza?
Why pick Canada over French Polynesia?
The price? A magazine or TV report, a travel journal, an Instagram ad? Ease of travel? Minimal time difference? The country that has the most in common with all the trip participants? Activities? Relaxation? The desire to push your limits?
A photo?
What else, I wonder...
Personally, I often prioritize simple destinations (no administrative hassles), where I’m not at risk (nothing extraordinary like getting kidnapped by Daesh or ending up in a jail cell because the current geopolitics aren’t favorable to my passport, etc.), and where I can drive.
Wide-open natural spaces are more my thing than urban anthills.
Finally, I try not to spend three days on a plane to reach my destination, and I aim for a maximum budget of 3500 € (for 3 weeks) in comfortable conditions—that means charming hotels, good meals, etc.
What about you?🙂
The title might be a bit long, but I hope it’s completely understandable!
When it comes to choosing your next trip, what tips the scales in favor of Eritrea over Ibiza?
Why pick Canada over French Polynesia?
The price? A magazine or TV report, a travel journal, an Instagram ad? Ease of travel? Minimal time difference? The country that has the most in common with all the trip participants? Activities? Relaxation? The desire to push your limits?
A photo?
What else, I wonder...
Personally, I often prioritize simple destinations (no administrative hassles), where I’m not at risk (nothing extraordinary like getting kidnapped by Daesh or ending up in a jail cell because the current geopolitics aren’t favorable to my passport, etc.), and where I can drive.
Wide-open natural spaces are more my thing than urban anthills.
Finally, I try not to spend three days on a plane to reach my destination, and I aim for a maximum budget of 3500 € (for 3 weeks) in comfortable conditions—that means charming hotels, good meals, etc.
What about you?🙂
Hi there,
My name’s Emilie, and my view of travel has changed. I used to travel just to tick off the "places and things to do/see" boxes. But lately, I’ve realized that encounters have become really important to me while traveling. In fact, the people I’ve met and what they’ve brought to my life are now my best travel memories. What do you think? Have you had a similar shift in perspective? Are you more interested in meeting people while traveling now?
To be totally honest, I’m training to become a travel planner (a trip organizer), and I was thinking of focusing on organizing trips that are more centered around encounters. So I’d love to know if this makes sense—if travelers are interested in this kind of experience. Just to be clear, I’m not selling anything; I just want to chat and hear your thoughts.
Have a lovely evening, everyone! :)
My name’s Emilie, and my view of travel has changed. I used to travel just to tick off the "places and things to do/see" boxes. But lately, I’ve realized that encounters have become really important to me while traveling. In fact, the people I’ve met and what they’ve brought to my life are now my best travel memories. What do you think? Have you had a similar shift in perspective? Are you more interested in meeting people while traveling now?
To be totally honest, I’m training to become a travel planner (a trip organizer), and I was thinking of focusing on organizing trips that are more centered around encounters. So I’d love to know if this makes sense—if travelers are interested in this kind of experience. Just to be clear, I’m not selling anything; I just want to chat and hear your thoughts.
Have a lovely evening, everyone! :)
After taking a little trip around the world, I came back a few months ago with an idea in mind.
I mostly do diving, and I love observing animals in their natural habitat without disturbing them.
During the trip, I realized it was quite complicated to know where and when to see certain species.
For example:
where to dive with sharks or manta rays where you might get a chance to swim with whales
I even discovered thresher sharks during my trip… I didn’t even know this species existed before, even though they’re incredible to see.
We spent a ton of time searching for info all over the place, especially on social media, without ever getting a clear picture.
So I started putting all this together on my own, in the form of a map, to make it easier to visualize where to go depending on the seasons.
I recently put a first version online (it’s called Fauneya). There are probably mistakes, inconsistencies, or things to improve, and that’s partly why I’m posting here.
I’d really love to know how you all go about planning this kind of trip.
I mostly do diving, and I love observing animals in their natural habitat without disturbing them.
During the trip, I realized it was quite complicated to know where and when to see certain species.
For example:
where to dive with sharks or manta rays where you might get a chance to swim with whales
I even discovered thresher sharks during my trip… I didn’t even know this species existed before, even though they’re incredible to see.
We spent a ton of time searching for info all over the place, especially on social media, without ever getting a clear picture.
So I started putting all this together on my own, in the form of a map, to make it easier to visualize where to go depending on the seasons.
I recently put a first version online (it’s called Fauneya). There are probably mistakes, inconsistencies, or things to improve, and that’s partly why I’m posting here.
I’d really love to know how you all go about planning this kind of trip.
Hi everyone.
I’ve been wondering: Is it still reasonable to rent a car in the U.S.?
Apparently, since early January 2025—and very quietly—the most important insurance coverage, namely the driver’s civil liability, has seen its coverage amount drop from $1 million to just $300,000. This coverage is supposed to protect us from damages we might be responsible for while driving. We can go decades without a single scrape (especially if it’s our fault), but anything can happen in a split second. A motorcycle appearing out of nowhere, a misjudgment at one of those huge intersections with staggered traffic lights, and suddenly we could be deemed at fault for the accident. We’d then have to pay out of pocket for the other party’s medical expenses. Given what hospitals charge... it can easily exceed $300,000 and turn into a nightmare in no time!!! Plus, anyone who’s driven on American roads has seen those billboards for lawyers offering their services to accident victims. So on top of the sky-high medical bill, the lawyer will demand compensation worthy of a Hollywood movie!!!! So, is it even worth getting behind the wheel in America anymore? Well... that’s just my take! And on top of that, I haven’t found any insurance company that offers such high civil liability coverage. Chapka and others do offer coverage in the millions, but motor vehicles are excluded.... So here’s the thing... Unless I’ve "missed something," I’ve come to this conclusion: Renting a car in the U.S. is like playing Russian roulette! But maybe I’m being too pessimistic? What do you think?
I’ve been wondering: Is it still reasonable to rent a car in the U.S.?
Apparently, since early January 2025—and very quietly—the most important insurance coverage, namely the driver’s civil liability, has seen its coverage amount drop from $1 million to just $300,000. This coverage is supposed to protect us from damages we might be responsible for while driving. We can go decades without a single scrape (especially if it’s our fault), but anything can happen in a split second. A motorcycle appearing out of nowhere, a misjudgment at one of those huge intersections with staggered traffic lights, and suddenly we could be deemed at fault for the accident. We’d then have to pay out of pocket for the other party’s medical expenses. Given what hospitals charge... it can easily exceed $300,000 and turn into a nightmare in no time!!! Plus, anyone who’s driven on American roads has seen those billboards for lawyers offering their services to accident victims. So on top of the sky-high medical bill, the lawyer will demand compensation worthy of a Hollywood movie!!!! So, is it even worth getting behind the wheel in America anymore? Well... that’s just my take! And on top of that, I haven’t found any insurance company that offers such high civil liability coverage. Chapka and others do offer coverage in the millions, but motor vehicles are excluded.... So here’s the thing... Unless I’ve "missed something," I’ve come to this conclusion: Renting a car in the U.S. is like playing Russian roulette! But maybe I’m being too pessimistic? What do you think?
We just got back from a nearly 3-week trip to Costa Rica in March. For the occasion, we used EVANEOS to plan our trip based on our preferences.
After some setbacks with ADOBE RENT-A-CAR—they refused the Visa Premier card and forced us to pay for extra insurance (which is usually covered by the Visa Premier)—we finally set off to explore the country.
Observation: Apart from nature, wildlife, and flora, there isn’t much else to see, but it’s so beautiful! Some people criticize the country as insignificant, with bland food and unwelcoming locals. I think those people didn’t really explore—maybe they stayed in their hotel near the beach (UVITA?) without venturing out. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many Europeans living in Costa Rica who don’t even consider going back to their home countries.
For our part, we found Costa Ricans very kind and welcoming. It’s often said they’re thieves, but personally, we left a small suitcase in a restaurant. When we returned after driving 20 km round trip, the staff were trying to find our phone number to contact us. I think it’s like anywhere—even in France, I’d tell tourists not to leave anything in their car to avoid… well, you know.
Food: Traditional dishes, fish plates (tilapia was excellent), and especially ceviche (around 15 € per person)—really good—and lobster (around 30 to 35 € per person), all served with fruit batidos (around 3 € per person).
Car: We had a 2-wheel-drive vehicle, which kept us from visiting some sites that require a 4x4, like Boruca, the town of artisan masks. Some lodges are also only accessible via rough, rocky trails that are tough to navigate in a regular car. Don’t hesitate to insist on a 4x4.
Keep in mind that driving fast in Costa Rica isn’t possible. Some roads are in poor condition, and there are often unmarked speed bumps that are much worse than the ones in France. You’ll average about 50 to 60 km/h on a leg of the trip.
I also recommend bringing a road map to cross-check the routes suggested by Waze or Google Maps. Sometimes, these apps will send you down completely wrecked roads to save time! A paper map will help you verify the road type. It’s better to drive an extra 20 km than to get stuck on a rocky path.
- San José to Barra de Pacuare (much less crowded than Tortuguero). Sea turtles are still rare this time of year. Via the canals, we spotted howler monkeys, sloths, and birds, and on land, we saw venomous spiders, poisonous frogs, and a leatherback turtle conservation site.
Explored a primary tropical forest with its many species of flora and fauna (monkeys, snakes, sloths, toucans, raccoons, etc.).
- Barra de Pacuare to Cahuita: Explored Cahuita National Park (howler monkeys, capuchin monkeys, raccoons, sloths, blue crabs, leaf-cutter ants, etc.) and walked along the trail by Puerto Viejo’s beach.
- Cahuita to Bambú: Visited the Bribri tribe and their customs. This isn’t a tourist trap—it’s a deep immersion into a community living almost self-sufficiently. To get there, you take a motorized canoe for over an hour. But be warned:
1 - The restroom cleanliness leaves a lot to be desired
2 - There’s no hot water
3 - A waterfall hike is offered. The first two-thirds are fine, but the last third is very dangerous, especially if it’s rained, even with sneakers. You need sturdy shoes. Our guide turned back halfway…
- Bambú to Sarapiquí:
- La Fortuna: Explored the Mistico Park tropical forest. A 3+ km trail lets you discover animals and lush vegetation. Sixteen suspension bridges, some up to 45 meters high, offer stunning views of the canopy.
Walked around Arenal Volcano: Big disappointment for seeing lava flows. After 2 km, a viewpoint shows vegetation that’s taken over—only a few volcanic rocks hint at the 1968 eruption.
- La Fortuna to Carara: Spotted crocodiles at the Tarcoles Bridge.
- Carara to Uvita: Relaxed. Uvita is a small tourist town with nothing particularly original, but it’s the place to try CEVICHE, a typical dish of raw fish “cooked” in lime juice. Delicious! We recommend Mestizo for very affordable prices.
- Osa to Corcovado National Park: This park is gorgeous. You’ll see all four monkey species, tapirs, scarlet macaws, etc.
From Drake Bay, it takes about 1 hour 15 to 1 hour 30 to cross to the park. After navigating the mangroves, the boat heads into open sea until reaching the beach, where you’ll wade ashore (water up to your thighs—bring shoes for the slippery rocks).
National Geographic called the park a "jewel of humanity" that must be preserved at all costs due to its incredible biodiversity. The park represents 3% of the world’s biodiversity. You can observe countless monkeys (all four species are present), crocodiles, tapirs, and scarlet macaws.
Our guided hike with a French-speaking guide lasted 4 hours before returning by boat to the lodge.
WARNING: There’s strict control at the park entrance:
- No plastic bottles
- No knives
- No plastic items
- No bare feet. Closed-toe shoes are required (in addition to a pair for the boat)
- Osa to Zona de los Santos: This is the coffee region and home to the quetzal, a stunning but hard-to-spot bird that’s also Guatemala’s symbol. Paraíso Quetzal Lodge has a platform with a spotting scope to try to see the bird in the forest. CAUTION: This beautiful lodge is at 2,650 meters altitude. The rooms have incredible forest views, but it’s VERY VERY cold!
- Zona de los Santos to San José: Detour to Irazú Volcano. WARNING: Buy tickets before arriving. The staff kindly bought them for us via their phone. Small disappointment: The crater lake hasn’t existed for years! The ads are misleading about this.
- San José: A city we found uninteresting.
Hi,
I’m starting this thread after a digression that began in the India section and continued in a travel journal about Kerala.
The original topic was whether India is—or isn’t—a nature destination.
I’ll let you all discuss and share your own definition of a nature destination. 🙂
I’m starting this thread after a digression that began in the India section and continued in a travel journal about Kerala.
The original topic was whether India is—or isn’t—a nature destination.
I’ll let you all discuss and share your own definition of a nature destination. 🙂
I found out that in Namibia, at a camp in the Hoanib River bed... a luxurious camp with no fences but all the comfort, including "facilities" inside...
If my information is correct.
An experienced "tourist" was killed by a lion at night.
This person had left their tent in the middle of the night to answer a call of nature (even though all the amenities were inside the tent; "tent" is actually an understatement for this kind of "accommodation").
The other "campers" and staff intervened, but it was too late.
In this region, there are desert lions. In such a hostile environment, these lions tend to look for the "easy option," so they attack livestock and get closer to humans (opportunity)...
There’s an entire program to protect lions, local populations, and their livestock, including fitting lions with tracking collars.
Why am I writing all this?
In Southern Africa (AFS), in many places, you can find yourself in areas with no fences or protections, whether in private or public camps.
There are safety rules that are clearly laid out.
Only get out of your vehicle in designated areas, and always keep in mind that... wild animals could still be nearby. Even at a picnic stop in Kruger National Park (KNP)...
Don’t leave your tent or the immediate area at night... and even during the day, stay alert.
That’s also why children under 8, 10, or even 16 are often not allowed.
Even if it seems safe... you never know!
Absolute and strict adherence to these rules is essential!
ESSENTIAL!
Personally, I’ve seen lions very close to the "lounge" of a lodge in Addo... with people having breakfast outside, completely unfazed.
I remember that lodge in Maputaland where a tourist who didn’t follow the rules was killed by a lion... (in this case, the lion was identified and killed because it might have returned and also shown its buddies how easy hunting there was).
Another case where a mom decided her child was old enough to sleep alone in their chalet... and the child wandered out at night...
Or those lodges where you’re escorted even for 20 meters by an armed ranger... and not just armed with a slingshot.
Lodges where... YOU DON’T GO OUT AT NIGHT... if you have a problem, you have a whistle, a foghorn, and you wait...
That lodge where lions approached the camp and all the staff were on high alert...
Those places where you could hear the lions’ long and short calls... and the hyenas’ laughter...
I could go on...
And this applies to other animals too...
Anyway,
This little note is probably too schoolmarmish or preachy, but it’s just to remind you that safety rules are there to protect you. Never take them lightly. Never be overconfident.
Ndlelanhle! !
Hello everyone,
It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.
A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question. They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???
Not even a simple thank you!!!
From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕 Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????
Please forgive my little rant.
Wishing everyone all the best. Cheers,
Puma2A
...
It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.
A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question. They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???
Not even a simple thank you!!!
From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕 Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????
Please forgive my little rant.
Wishing everyone all the best. Cheers,
Puma2A
...
hello to all travelers with their eyes wide open to the desert...
I’ve always wondered what I was "doing" on this earth. And why my father, who died a few months after I was born—a former youngest French resistance fighter—joined the First Saharan Motorized Company in Atar and spent the rest of his life repairing army engines in Algeria, Mauritania, Senegal, Mali (which didn’t exist under that name back then), Morocco, and finally Algeria, where my mother was born and raised. (Believe me, it’s not "cool" being the child of a soldier in a country occupied by France, and even less so the child of a "pied-noir.") Of course, I never got an answer: the dead don’t talk, and the army doesn’t either. But here’s the thing—I had photos... So naturally, one day I hit the road. I wanted to see, to understand. It’s thanks to VF that I was able to do a little research on crossing the Morocco-Mauritania border, and I’m grateful to its members, just as I’m grateful to all those who welcomed me on the road for 14 years. For the past few weeks, I’ve been wondering if I should talk about this or not... It turns out the Mauritanians changed my life by asking for my help... And that started as early as February 2012... (Did I owe them something? No answer to that question.) Ah, the irony—they saw me coming. But when you’re handed sick children and begged to do something, what would you have done? I’d worked in a hospital, so I knew a bit about the rules to follow. I didn’t hesitate. And well, over all these years, I met doctors, surgeons, and together we organized care, evacuations of children, training for surgeons—even trying to stop children from having to travel outside their country. It was never easy. I’d like to thank those who supported us, as well as *La Chaîne de l’Espoir*, *La Fondation Face au Monde*, and everyone who built bridges between our two countries. Unfortunately, despite the constant efforts of Mauritanian doctors and surgeons, some children couldn’t be helped in time. Today, I want to talk about four siblings—orphans of their mother—suffering from congenital glaucoma causing irreversible blindness. Their case was entrusted to me in 2020, just weeks before the big lockdown. We couldn’t do anything for them then, but when their father asked me for a gift, I rushed to my computer and wrote a story. Through a tale, the children take a great journey, explore their country, and fulfill a dream. I never thought this book would be published—it was, in 2023. This book pays tribute to Mauritania. It’s a message for those who know nothing about the hardships of life there, carrying both the harshness and beauty of an immense desert where you can travel by 4x4, bike, on foot, or by camel in complete safety. It bears witness to the kindness of Mauritanians toward travelers. As a woman traveling alone in my vehicle—a now-rusted old Mercedes that no longer runs—I had the most beautiful encounters of my life there (I’ve seen other parts of the world...). The blind children of Choum, Atar, Nouadhibou, and Nouakchott will forever be in my heart. Volunteer readers transcribed the book into a free audio version for the visually impaired. It’s available in sound libraries in France, the *Fondation Valentin Haüy*, and the Swiss Romande library. I made my last trip to Mauritania in my old 4x4 to distribute the book everywhere, especially to its heroes and the school for the visually impaired in Nouakchott. After that, I thought it was time to close the chapter because I no longer have the means or the strength to travel. My publishers chose this title for it: *The Blue Eyes of the Desert*. This publication helped a mission of Swiss volunteer ophthalmologists come to operate on glaucomas in Mauritania. I’m thrilled because they come back every year! This adventure is ending, yes—everything must come to an end—but ultimately, it was born here, on the VF site!! So yes, I had to say it: THANK YOU!!!!!
I’ve always wondered what I was "doing" on this earth. And why my father, who died a few months after I was born—a former youngest French resistance fighter—joined the First Saharan Motorized Company in Atar and spent the rest of his life repairing army engines in Algeria, Mauritania, Senegal, Mali (which didn’t exist under that name back then), Morocco, and finally Algeria, where my mother was born and raised. (Believe me, it’s not "cool" being the child of a soldier in a country occupied by France, and even less so the child of a "pied-noir.") Of course, I never got an answer: the dead don’t talk, and the army doesn’t either. But here’s the thing—I had photos... So naturally, one day I hit the road. I wanted to see, to understand. It’s thanks to VF that I was able to do a little research on crossing the Morocco-Mauritania border, and I’m grateful to its members, just as I’m grateful to all those who welcomed me on the road for 14 years. For the past few weeks, I’ve been wondering if I should talk about this or not... It turns out the Mauritanians changed my life by asking for my help... And that started as early as February 2012... (Did I owe them something? No answer to that question.) Ah, the irony—they saw me coming. But when you’re handed sick children and begged to do something, what would you have done? I’d worked in a hospital, so I knew a bit about the rules to follow. I didn’t hesitate. And well, over all these years, I met doctors, surgeons, and together we organized care, evacuations of children, training for surgeons—even trying to stop children from having to travel outside their country. It was never easy. I’d like to thank those who supported us, as well as *La Chaîne de l’Espoir*, *La Fondation Face au Monde*, and everyone who built bridges between our two countries. Unfortunately, despite the constant efforts of Mauritanian doctors and surgeons, some children couldn’t be helped in time. Today, I want to talk about four siblings—orphans of their mother—suffering from congenital glaucoma causing irreversible blindness. Their case was entrusted to me in 2020, just weeks before the big lockdown. We couldn’t do anything for them then, but when their father asked me for a gift, I rushed to my computer and wrote a story. Through a tale, the children take a great journey, explore their country, and fulfill a dream. I never thought this book would be published—it was, in 2023. This book pays tribute to Mauritania. It’s a message for those who know nothing about the hardships of life there, carrying both the harshness and beauty of an immense desert where you can travel by 4x4, bike, on foot, or by camel in complete safety. It bears witness to the kindness of Mauritanians toward travelers. As a woman traveling alone in my vehicle—a now-rusted old Mercedes that no longer runs—I had the most beautiful encounters of my life there (I’ve seen other parts of the world...). The blind children of Choum, Atar, Nouadhibou, and Nouakchott will forever be in my heart. Volunteer readers transcribed the book into a free audio version for the visually impaired. It’s available in sound libraries in France, the *Fondation Valentin Haüy*, and the Swiss Romande library. I made my last trip to Mauritania in my old 4x4 to distribute the book everywhere, especially to its heroes and the school for the visually impaired in Nouakchott. After that, I thought it was time to close the chapter because I no longer have the means or the strength to travel. My publishers chose this title for it: *The Blue Eyes of the Desert*. This publication helped a mission of Swiss volunteer ophthalmologists come to operate on glaucomas in Mauritania. I’m thrilled because they come back every year! This adventure is ending, yes—everything must come to an end—but ultimately, it was born here, on the VF site!! So yes, I had to say it: THANK YOU!!!!!
Good evening! 🙂,
I’m paraphrasing the title of discussions that were popping up back in 2020. Back then, the obstacles were travel restrictions and all sorts of often very arbitrary "health" rules. Today, it feels like we’re facing an epidemic of wanderlust that’s piling up in certain places—places that keep expanding. Places that end up feeling like wallpaper, just part of the scenery, more or less exotic, since the people, the dominant crowd, are always the same. And they’re especially overwhelming in limited spaces like villages, museums, and other remarkable sites.
Personally, it tends to send my cortisol levels through the roof, leading to desperate attempts to salvage what I can (the stress when I saw a travel journal about eastern Crete—then, phew, at least this little piece of old Greece hasn’t been exposed yet. Maybe it’ll survive a little longer). So, no more weekends in beautiful European cities. So, adjusted visiting hours, but that’s not always enough (I’ll still have to say goodbye to Caravaggio’s *Madeleine* since I can’t have a quiet moment with her anymore, even late in the day). So, outright giving up: I’ll never see Machu Picchu. Too late. So, shifting travel dates to minimize the damage (Uzbekistan was originally planned for Easter—with April 24th and May 1st to limit vacation days—but the anxiety of tourist crowds during that mild climate period, with few days off, led me to reschedule the trip for winter. Short days and possible rain are a thousand times better).
Avoiding crowds has become a fundamental criterion for choosing destinations and timing.
And you? Are you able to tune out this identical crowd everywhere, or has it changed your relationship with travel/tourism?
Catherine
I’m paraphrasing the title of discussions that were popping up back in 2020. Back then, the obstacles were travel restrictions and all sorts of often very arbitrary "health" rules. Today, it feels like we’re facing an epidemic of wanderlust that’s piling up in certain places—places that keep expanding. Places that end up feeling like wallpaper, just part of the scenery, more or less exotic, since the people, the dominant crowd, are always the same. And they’re especially overwhelming in limited spaces like villages, museums, and other remarkable sites.
Personally, it tends to send my cortisol levels through the roof, leading to desperate attempts to salvage what I can (the stress when I saw a travel journal about eastern Crete—then, phew, at least this little piece of old Greece hasn’t been exposed yet. Maybe it’ll survive a little longer). So, no more weekends in beautiful European cities. So, adjusted visiting hours, but that’s not always enough (I’ll still have to say goodbye to Caravaggio’s *Madeleine* since I can’t have a quiet moment with her anymore, even late in the day). So, outright giving up: I’ll never see Machu Picchu. Too late. So, shifting travel dates to minimize the damage (Uzbekistan was originally planned for Easter—with April 24th and May 1st to limit vacation days—but the anxiety of tourist crowds during that mild climate period, with few days off, led me to reschedule the trip for winter. Short days and possible rain are a thousand times better).
Avoiding crowds has become a fundamental criterion for choosing destinations and timing.
And you? Are you able to tune out this identical crowd everywhere, or has it changed your relationship with travel/tourism?
Catherine
I've traveled quite a bit in Vietnam over the past few years—from the southern delta to bustling cities and even some small islands—but what really sticks with me is the north, the high mountains.
Up there, there's something different—maybe slower, more raw. The morning markets with ethnic groups, women in traditional clothes, the colors...
The stilt houses, kids following you and laughing for no reason, the terraced rice fields—it almost feels unreal at times, so vast and quiet, yet so human and simple.
You often hear that Sapa has become too touristy, and that's partly true, especially in the center. But as soon as you move a little farther away, everything changes quickly. The landscapes open up, encounters feel more natural, and you rediscover something truly authentic.
I think it's that contrast that struck me—the difference between what you imagine before going and what you actually discover when you take the time.
And you—what memory do you hold onto from Vietnam? A particular place that touched you more than others?
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?
Hello fellow travel enthusiasts! 🌍
As a traveler and blogger, I’ve often been struck by the huge inequalities tied to freedom of movement. While some cross borders with ease, others face major obstacles due to their nationality, background, or the restrictive policies of certain countries.
On the occasion of International Human Rights Day, I wrote an article reflecting on this issue: 📖 Travelers' Rights: A Reflection on Freedom of Movement and Global Inequalities
In this article, I cover topics like:
Inequalities between passports ("strong" vs. "weak" passports). The specific challenges faced by travelers from marginalized communities. How to take action to promote more inclusive and equitable travel.
I’d love to hear your thoughts! 😊 Have you ever experienced these inequalities while traveling? How do you think we could raise more awareness about this issue? Feel free to share your experiences or ask questions in this thread. I can’t wait to discuss this with you!
Travel is also about building bridges between cultures. So let’s make sure it becomes a reality for everyone. ✈️🌎 Thanks for reading, and I look forward to exchanging ideas with you!
On the occasion of International Human Rights Day, I wrote an article reflecting on this issue: 📖 Travelers' Rights: A Reflection on Freedom of Movement and Global Inequalities
In this article, I cover topics like:
Inequalities between passports ("strong" vs. "weak" passports). The specific challenges faced by travelers from marginalized communities. How to take action to promote more inclusive and equitable travel.
I’d love to hear your thoughts! 😊 Have you ever experienced these inequalities while traveling? How do you think we could raise more awareness about this issue? Feel free to share your experiences or ask questions in this thread. I can’t wait to discuss this with you!
Travel is also about building bridges between cultures. So let’s make sure it becomes a reality for everyone. ✈️🌎 Thanks for reading, and I look forward to exchanging ideas with you!
Hello,
On a flight from Paris to Montreal, since the aircraft trajectories pass quite a bit to the north (maybe even too much...), is there any chance of spotting this very special phenomenon from your seat on the plane? That is, the combined result of a meteorite impact dating back about 214 million years and Hydro-Québec’s major works in the 1960s and beyond on the Manicouagan for massive electricity production, which flooded and highlighted the valleys and topographic trenches? A few years ago, I somewhat naively asked "Totem Aviation," based near Les Escoumins and offering light aircraft flyovers above the Manic-5 dam. They told me the altitude needed to observe the entire phenomenon was way too high for them... 🤪 On geographical maps, it’s absolutely spectacular! 😮
On a flight from Paris to Montreal, since the aircraft trajectories pass quite a bit to the north (maybe even too much...), is there any chance of spotting this very special phenomenon from your seat on the plane? That is, the combined result of a meteorite impact dating back about 214 million years and Hydro-Québec’s major works in the 1960s and beyond on the Manicouagan for massive electricity production, which flooded and highlighted the valleys and topographic trenches? A few years ago, I somewhat naively asked "Totem Aviation," based near Les Escoumins and offering light aircraft flyovers above the Manic-5 dam. They told me the altitude needed to observe the entire phenomenon was way too high for them... 🤪 On geographical maps, it’s absolutely spectacular! 😮
Hey everyone! 😊
Aircraft manufacturers will probably adapt in the coming years, but until future planes are designed to handle severe turbulence directly linked to climate change, personally, I’ll only unbuckle my seatbelt to go to the bathroom and take a few steps to keep my blood circulating.
I already made it a habit to stay buckled up during my flights.
My only issue is my preference for aisle seats—getting hit in the face with luggage isn’t great 😅.
What about you?
My two bullfighting traditions when I'm back home in Camargue (France) and in Colombia (Caribbean) every time I return. 🤠
Details:
Bullfights (corridas) aren’t part of my two bullfighting traditions, but I respect those who attend them!!!
In these two ancestral bullfighting traditions—which aren’t bullfights—the Bulls and Toros aren’t killed or tortured, as some might think.
These are bull games where the animals return to their pastures afterward and only come back to the Arenas 2–3 times a year at most.
They spend 15 minutes in the ring for the Camarguais and 5 minutes for the Toros in the Colombian Corralejas.
They’re cared for and pampered. They’ll die of old age in miles of open fields.
The young people who face them are professionals, risking their lives to support their families and live their Passion for the Toro!!! 😄
https://youtu.be/yYKQer42HoQ
Colombian Corraleja in the link below (hope it works) 🤪
https://fb.watch/BMfmuCgQpG/
The chosen title was easy to find: it's from today's French daily newspaper "Le Figaro" (front page, right side, in the "Le Flash actualité" section at 10:31 AM).
Link: https://www.lefigaro.fr/voyages/et-si-votre-prochain-agent-de-voyage-etait-une-intelligence-artificielle-20250414
As some participants had mentioned, a simple query could sometimes yield very satisfying results, even if the initial comments from readers of this article don’t necessarily agree.
Instead of presenting our request in writing, I assume we’ll soon be able to speak to AI orally or even have a conversation with it. Refining our searches to perfection would then be a breeze.
But then, what about travel agencies and travel forums? Will Vfistes, in a twilight atmosphere, keep talking in a closed circle, fewer and fewer of them, until the last one is left monologuing? Will a side effect be that we start addressing our fellow humans in the same cold, dry way we talk to the Machine? Well, some of us have already gotten into that habit... With over 30% of current jobs set to disappear because of AI, will it become possible to quickly and perfectly plan trips we can no longer afford financially? What a paradox!
I admit I haven’t looked into this yet, and one of these days I’ll probably end up talking to the Machine, but for now, I prefer to keep laboriously and methodically planning my upcoming trips, telling myself that at least I’m still good for something...
As some participants had mentioned, a simple query could sometimes yield very satisfying results, even if the initial comments from readers of this article don’t necessarily agree.
Instead of presenting our request in writing, I assume we’ll soon be able to speak to AI orally or even have a conversation with it. Refining our searches to perfection would then be a breeze.
But then, what about travel agencies and travel forums? Will Vfistes, in a twilight atmosphere, keep talking in a closed circle, fewer and fewer of them, until the last one is left monologuing? Will a side effect be that we start addressing our fellow humans in the same cold, dry way we talk to the Machine? Well, some of us have already gotten into that habit... With over 30% of current jobs set to disappear because of AI, will it become possible to quickly and perfectly plan trips we can no longer afford financially? What a paradox!
I admit I haven’t looked into this yet, and one of these days I’ll probably end up talking to the Machine, but for now, I prefer to keep laboriously and methodically planning my upcoming trips, telling myself that at least I’m still good for something...
It’s nighttime and 3 degrees in Tashkent.
Hi there,
Reflection: an act of thought that revisits an object to examine it. The object here is travel (or tourist movement, it doesn’t really matter) and the desire to examine it from the particular angle of the verb that drives it came from reading a sentence by Xrctn in the introduction to his travel journal about Turkmenistan.
Part of that strange category of travelers who like ticking boxes...
Ticking I have no idea how strange that is—I actually get the impression it might be pretty common when I see the diverse mix of trips some people here take. But maybe it’s a different approach that drives these compulsive travelers.
Still, it wouldn’t even occur to me. What does it add?
Connecting Or chaining, assembling, linking. These are my verbs. If I can’t do it—either because finances are tight (I live in one of Europe’s pigsties—a PIIGS country, where the virtuous northern barbarians sent the G&S troika to "nurse us back to health" through austerity, making it all the more pleasant to spend every summer among civilized folks on the terrace of my little white house in Kalymnos overlooking the Aegean), or because I’ve chosen a tricky, unstable direction (Lebanon had to be canceled in summer 2006, Syria too, and Iran right now)—I don’t really feel like traveling. I might just tag along to be nice, but it doesn’t mean anything to me.
If I think about the need behind my verbs—this continuous, meticulous, patient way of traveling—it’s about stripping away sudden, artificial exoticism, weaving small, successive changes, and feeling the presence of the knots too. About understanding, integrating something a little different from the image on a screen.
And you? What’s your guiding verb?
Catherine
Hi there,
Reflection: an act of thought that revisits an object to examine it. The object here is travel (or tourist movement, it doesn’t really matter) and the desire to examine it from the particular angle of the verb that drives it came from reading a sentence by Xrctn in the introduction to his travel journal about Turkmenistan.
Part of that strange category of travelers who like ticking boxes...
Ticking I have no idea how strange that is—I actually get the impression it might be pretty common when I see the diverse mix of trips some people here take. But maybe it’s a different approach that drives these compulsive travelers.
Still, it wouldn’t even occur to me. What does it add?
Connecting Or chaining, assembling, linking. These are my verbs. If I can’t do it—either because finances are tight (I live in one of Europe’s pigsties—a PIIGS country, where the virtuous northern barbarians sent the G&S troika to "nurse us back to health" through austerity, making it all the more pleasant to spend every summer among civilized folks on the terrace of my little white house in Kalymnos overlooking the Aegean), or because I’ve chosen a tricky, unstable direction (Lebanon had to be canceled in summer 2006, Syria too, and Iran right now)—I don’t really feel like traveling. I might just tag along to be nice, but it doesn’t mean anything to me.
If I think about the need behind my verbs—this continuous, meticulous, patient way of traveling—it’s about stripping away sudden, artificial exoticism, weaving small, successive changes, and feeling the presence of the knots too. About understanding, integrating something a little different from the image on a screen.
And you? What’s your guiding verb?
Catherine
Hi! It was totally by chance that I stumbled upon VoyageForum (an ad online and a story lol), and I’ve been reading some really old posts from 2011 about Thai massage schools—discussions on how to get by, accommodation, prices, etc. It reminded me of my own experience: I kept things simple by staying with a local family during my entire trip. I only shared all the expenses with them, which, I’ll admit, was super cheap… and I often traveled with them, which naturally opened a lot of doors for me. To start, at the school in Salaya, my Thai friend immediately connected me with Teacher Phong (the school’s mentor and teacher of teachers, a former monk). I was supposed to join a group session with other foreigners, but for some reason I don’t know, I got two days of private lessons for free with this expert… incredible! And on top of that, he loved France! It was an amazing experience. I "discovered" massage by chance—the Thai family just told me: "Try it, you’ll see!" (I’d had a pretty intense massage in the capital before 😅… but the next day, I felt unbelievably great!))
Every morning, I’d take a taxi (chosen by the Thai family at prices that beat all the competition) to this school—I’ve forgotten the name of the little village now… right in the heart of the countryside. Then, in the evenings, I’d keep practicing massage on all the family members… and they’d teach me Thai at the same time!))
Since then, I’ve practiced a bit, with lots of positive feedback. Following Teacher Phong’s advice—he thought my pressure was deep, firm, and precise—he strongly encouraged me to take this seriously.
I love Thailand so much. It’s a whole different way of living… and it’s a real blessing, even if I couldn’t live there full-time. Anyway, that was an unforgettable memory, and sometimes the Thai family and I still say hi—from 2011, 2013… right up to today!
Take care, everyone! !
Every morning, I’d take a taxi (chosen by the Thai family at prices that beat all the competition) to this school—I’ve forgotten the name of the little village now… right in the heart of the countryside. Then, in the evenings, I’d keep practicing massage on all the family members… and they’d teach me Thai at the same time!))
Since then, I’ve practiced a bit, with lots of positive feedback. Following Teacher Phong’s advice—he thought my pressure was deep, firm, and precise—he strongly encouraged me to take this seriously.
I love Thailand so much. It’s a whole different way of living… and it’s a real blessing, even if I couldn’t live there full-time. Anyway, that was an unforgettable memory, and sometimes the Thai family and I still say hi—from 2011, 2013… right up to today!
Take care, everyone! !
Hello everyone on this forum!
I know in advance that what I'm about to say here won't please everyone, but honesty is a virtue, isn't it?
Here's the thing: for many years now, I've noticed a habit in French-speaking posts of using abbreviations left and right, as if to show that we're "in the know." Let me explain with a few examples:
- - In discussions about Peru, I see "Aguas" for "Aguas Calientes." And if it's Mexico, well, it'll be "Aguas" for "Aguascalientes"!
- - For Guatemala, "travelers" will say "Guaté." Come on, saying "Guatemalas" would maybe be the undeniable sign that you know nothing about the country???
- - Back from Indonesia, many will talk about how familiar they've become with the country's language: "bahasa." Of course, everyone will know what you're talking about, but it still gets on my nerves because the language (one of the many languages) of Indonesia is "bahasa Indonesia." "Bahasa" actually means "language," and you'll find this word of Indian origin ‘Bhāṣā’ (it's Sanskrit originally) outside Indonesia too: in Thailand, for example, any language will be "phasa" as in "phasa thai" (official Thai), "phasa isan" (what's spoken in northeastern Thailand), "phasa angkrit" = English, etc.
Am I an incorrigible nitpicker? Maybe. But I'd also find it ridiculous if a foreigner came and told me they visited "Monte" during their trip to France, when it was actually Monte Carlo.
I read a lot in English and don't think I've encountered such a habit among English speakers.
It’s vacation time
Vacation and silence
Silence and absence
Absence and latency
Latency and silence
Silence and vacation
Vacation and absence
It’s vacation time
I wrote these few words on July 12, 2010, and I can post them again today—nothing’s changed...🙂
I wrote these few words on July 12, 2010, and I can post them again today—nothing’s changed...🙂
"In one place, in one day, a single deed accomplished,
May hold the theater filled until the end."
- Sunday morning, a chilly dawn - The kitchen - Smell of coffee and toast, a jar of honey on the table.
- Tits pecking at sunflower seeds in the transparent feeder stuck to the window.
- France Musique on the radio: Brahms, violin concerto by the lovely Hilary Hahn - Characters: - An old man in a plush dark blue dressing gown - An old woman in a worn-out duck-blue dressing gown. They dance cheek to cheek, the woman’s head resting on the old man’s broad chest. The old man breathes in the tangled hair of the lady. She smiles. Happy. Tomorrow, they’re off on a trip.
- Sunday morning, a chilly dawn - The kitchen - Smell of coffee and toast, a jar of honey on the table.
- Tits pecking at sunflower seeds in the transparent feeder stuck to the window.
- France Musique on the radio: Brahms, violin concerto by the lovely Hilary Hahn - Characters: - An old man in a plush dark blue dressing gown - An old woman in a worn-out duck-blue dressing gown. They dance cheek to cheek, the woman’s head resting on the old man’s broad chest. The old man breathes in the tangled hair of the lady. She smiles. Happy. Tomorrow, they’re off on a trip.
There’s a similar discussion about India, by the way...
I really, really want to go back to China, but since the country is evolving at lightning speed, I’m wondering. I went there nearly 20 years ago. It was already undergoing a lot of changes, slowly but surely, but I still have wonderful memories of the country, which I found so endearing at the time. I visited Beijing, Sichuan, Guangxi, Hainan, and also Tibet by train, then Xinjiang. Now, we’re mainly considering Gansu and Hunan.
It was still possible to get 60-day visas back then, which isn’t the case anymore since they’re now limited to 30 days. But at the same time, the country seems more accessible. Many hotels are open to foreign tourists, sophisticated transport options have developed everywhere, and it’s possible to visit for up to 15 days without a visa... Tourists can easily travel by train or plane, but to reach places "off the beaten path," it seems you need to rent a vehicle with a driver. There used to be plenty of day-trip group tours, but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.
It’s hard to find info on whether certain routes are feasible for independent travel.
From what I’ve gathered here and there, "high tech" has taken over the entire country, the countryside has given way to imposing buildings, cities are increasingly industrialized and polluted—basically, the country has become dehumanized... In short, are there still beautiful places left—dare I say preserved—to see?
Add to this the bad reputation, not always justified, that China suffers from. It seems like the country is being boycotted by travel agencies, as if it’s not "politically correct" to visit. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but I’ve noticed this with French agencies like Nomade, Allibert, etc., which used to offer a wide range of itineraries everywhere, especially in Yunnan. Now, they’ve limited themselves to the classics: Beijing, Xi’an, Shanghai, water towns, or Tibet. Yunnan, Gansu, Qinghai, and many other Chinese provinces are no longer on the menu. Maybe it’s due to COVID...
The destination isn’t exactly a hit on forums either...
So, is it still worth going in 2025? I’d love to hear from those who’ve been there recently. Looking forward to exchanging thoughts on this fascinating destination (from my point of view, of course).
Anne-Claire
I really, really want to go back to China, but since the country is evolving at lightning speed, I’m wondering. I went there nearly 20 years ago. It was already undergoing a lot of changes, slowly but surely, but I still have wonderful memories of the country, which I found so endearing at the time. I visited Beijing, Sichuan, Guangxi, Hainan, and also Tibet by train, then Xinjiang. Now, we’re mainly considering Gansu and Hunan.
It was still possible to get 60-day visas back then, which isn’t the case anymore since they’re now limited to 30 days. But at the same time, the country seems more accessible. Many hotels are open to foreign tourists, sophisticated transport options have developed everywhere, and it’s possible to visit for up to 15 days without a visa... Tourists can easily travel by train or plane, but to reach places "off the beaten path," it seems you need to rent a vehicle with a driver. There used to be plenty of day-trip group tours, but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.
It’s hard to find info on whether certain routes are feasible for independent travel.
From what I’ve gathered here and there, "high tech" has taken over the entire country, the countryside has given way to imposing buildings, cities are increasingly industrialized and polluted—basically, the country has become dehumanized... In short, are there still beautiful places left—dare I say preserved—to see?
Add to this the bad reputation, not always justified, that China suffers from. It seems like the country is being boycotted by travel agencies, as if it’s not "politically correct" to visit. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but I’ve noticed this with French agencies like Nomade, Allibert, etc., which used to offer a wide range of itineraries everywhere, especially in Yunnan. Now, they’ve limited themselves to the classics: Beijing, Xi’an, Shanghai, water towns, or Tibet. Yunnan, Gansu, Qinghai, and many other Chinese provinces are no longer on the menu. Maybe it’s due to COVID...
The destination isn’t exactly a hit on forums either...
So, is it still worth going in 2025? I’d love to hear from those who’ve been there recently. Looking forward to exchanging thoughts on this fascinating destination (from my point of view, of course).
Anne-Claire
