Hi everyone,

The idea of visiting Japan goes back a year now. I remember because I was looking for cheap flights to Europe from Paris. Surprisingly, the round-trip to Japan with Air China was just as affordable—if not cheaper—than many European destinations.

So, the tickets were booked. Three seats (including one for a 12-year-old), ten days over Easter 2018, AirBnB accommodation. Of course, in ten days, you visit without *really* visiting—you only scratch the surface. Just the classics: Kyoto, temples, moonlit rivers; the Shinkansen; and Tokyo, gardens, wandering, high-tech, and... maids.

I have to admit, we don’t know much about the country, and the thought of how we’d manage is a constant source of worry. What if this trip reveals my inability to open up to other cultures?

We board the first Air China flight with that question on our minds.

While researching this topic myself, I came across a discussion thread http://voyageforum.com/voyage/est_t_il_possible_gagner_un_peu_argent_avec_tres_belles_photos_D2577539/ that I found a bit disheartening...

First off, I want to say that this recurring dream isn’t impossible:

http://www.pixfan.com/entretien-avec-eric-lafforgue/

That said, it won’t just fall into your lap by chance! ;-) Believe me, just because no degree is required doesn’t mean you can approach this project as an amateur.

You’ll need to be a technical expert, invest thousands of euros in gear and software, have a unique aesthetic vision, sharp business sense, and a rigorous approach at every stage of your work—because this *is* a profession. Without a minimum of commitment and professionalism, you won’t get far... But then again, other careers aren’t exactly easier...

So, for those who already have a portfolio that triggers uncontrollable gasps of wonder at every slide show at Aunt Monique’s place, here are some great places to test your determination and skills:

http://www.lonelyplanetimages.com/prospective_photographers

http://www.theimageworks.com/cu_prosphoto.php

http://www.pacificstock.com/photographer_guidelines.asp

For those who think they’ve already created some high-resolution masterpieces, you can also invest in internationally renowned competitions:

http://worldinfocuscontest.com/

http://www.tpoty.com/2009/about.html

http://www.thecolorawards.com/

http://journals.worldnomads.com/scholarships/post/32554.aspx

Finally, you might want to start by simply showcasing your work online at low cost and submitting your photos to a massive, not-always-agreeable-but-not-hostile audience for feedback:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/28421453@N07/sets/72157614525899920/

By the way, I hope you're already fluent in English...

Happy travels!

Hi there!

I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.

Let’s start with the shotengai...



Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.

It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area). In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)

In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market: And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:

To be continued...

After visiting Newfoundland Island, we took the ferry to Blanc-Sablon, a municipality located on the Lower North Shore in Quebec, Canada.

Instead of heading back to Quebec via Sydney in Nova Scotia, we decided to explore the Lower North Shore—the least-known region of Quebec—as well as Labrador, which is part of the province of Newfoundland and Labrador.

From Blanc-Sablon, we drove to the municipality of Vieux-Fort via Route 138. This road ends in that municipality.

Afterward, we crossed Labrador to return to the Old Capital. Only one road allows this route. It wasn’t fully paved during our trip, but it is now.

We made stops in different areas to go on hikes that let us discover some incredible landscapes.

I hope this travel journal inspires you to venture into these stunning regions.

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

Lower North Shore:

Lower North Shore - Blanc-Sablon - Brador Falls Lookout Lower North Shore - Blanc-Sablon - Astragalus Trail (Milk-Vetch Trail) Lower North Shore - Bonne-Espérance - Granny Hill Trail

Labrador:

Red Bay - Tracey Hill Trail Mary's Harbour - White Water Falls Trail Mary's Harbour - Gin Cove Hiking Trail Mary's Harbour - Dr. Moret Hiking Trail Happy Valley-Goose Bay - Birch Island Walk North West River - Sunday Hill Lookout Trail Churchill Falls - Bowdoin Canyon Nature Trail Labrador City - Tanya Lake Loop Trail Labrador City - Crystal Falls Hiking Trail

North Shore

North Shore - Manic 2, 3, 5 Hydroelectric Plants and Daniel-Johnson Dam Baie-Comeau - Pioneers Park Tadoussac Village

**********

More landscapes of the Lower North Shore, Labrador, and the North Shore

Hi there,

We’d like to travel overland from Turkey to India in our converted van, but there are very few options these days. Crossing Iran seems risky and not particularly safe. Has anyone here done it? If so, which route did you take to minimize safety concerns?

Thanks for your replies, Julie 😎

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?🙂

Really disappointed with Costa Rica! Pura vida? The scam of the century! (Costa Rica pure emptiness).

The country where animals are free and people are in cages. 3 weeks in December in this country and never again. Imagine the trailer of a movie that seems interesting, and when you go see it, you realize it’s a flop and the best moments were in the trailer. Well, that’s exactly how we felt with Costa Rica pure emptiness. My wife and I have traveled quite a bit and didn’t expect to be so wrong about a place. On the main routes, we visited: San José Alajuela Limón, Cahuita, Puerto Viejo, Manzanillo (Caribbean side) Jaco, Quepos, Manuel Antonio (Pacific side) And a few short stops in intermediate towns.

Our dissatisfaction grew gradually like this:

When we arrived at the hotel, the taxi dropped us off on a small street in front of a white metal gate with ground-floor windows barred. We looked at it skeptically, but the sign matched. He approached the gate, rang the bell, the buzzer sounded, and the door opened slightly. The hotel wasn’t bad for the price, a 10-minute walk from downtown, but with a "Fleury-Mérogis" vibe guaranteed.

So far, so good.

After showering and regaining our bearings, we headed downtown. What started to unsettle us on the way was seeing houses with bars on the ground-floor windows and even on the second floor. At first, we thought the hotel’s neighborhood wasn’t great.

Downtown San José: It’s a generic city, not very exotic, with a pedestrian street and a small mercado where you can eat local food without frills. Very few tourists—if any—which let you blend in with the locals. We had lunch and struggled to make ourselves understood because, aside from one or two shops, English wasn’t spoken. On the way back to the hotel, we took a different route, and while chatting and strolling, my wife pointed out a beautiful two-story white house completely barricaded like Fort Knox. From that moment, we started noticing the facades of houses and buildings, and wow, it was creepy—most looked like prisons, some even with barbed wire. Though put off, we told ourselves it was probably a big-city thing and the rest of the country couldn’t be like this.

So far, so good.

We relaxed at the hotel and had a drink at the bar. Night falls early, around 5:30 PM. By 7:30 PM, we headed back downtown for dinner. A bit unsettling for a capital—downtown was almost deserted, and aside from fast-food chains, very few restaurants were open, with hardly anyone on the streets. Bars with security guards out front. I won’t say we felt unsafe that night, but once it got dark, we realized the bars on the windows weren’t for nothing. First day in, and our impression was already mixed.

The next day, we explored the city and surroundings, and our feelings didn’t change.

So far, so good.

Off to Cahuita by bus—4 hours of travel. The landscapes are very green but quickly become monotonous. The road runs alongside the forest and passes through a few towns and villages, and even in the countryside, there were just as many prison-like houses. The bus dropped us off at Cahuita’s terminal station—only four of us got off. It’s a village, or rather, a small town. Cahuita is basically one straight road and a perpendicular one, and honestly, doubt started to creep in. A few restaurants that add 13% tax and 10% service charge—so 23% extra. We dropped our stuff at the hotel and went to explore. In 20 minutes, we’d seen it all. We had lunch and planned to check out the famous park. Entry is by donation—well, the "entry" is a joke. There’s a path along the forest by the sea, and that’s it.

Nothing’s going right anymore.

We thought it was a total scam, but since we hadn’t gone far, we decided to come back the next day to explore further. We returned to the hotel, relaxed, and around 8:00 PM, we went out for dinner. Only two restaurants were open, and the streets were deserted.

Creepy!

The next day, we explored the so-called park more thoroughly and really got it. A path along the forest by the sea—2 hours there and 2 hours back, where you see animals that feel like showing their faces. A total joke—"all that for this?"

The beach was full of wood debris and coconut husks. We wondered if the photos online were edited because the sea, very rough, wasn’t the azure blue we’d seen in pictures. But calling this a park is a joke—it’s like a new concept.

When we thought about the reviews online, we started to suspect that professionals with interests in the country were monitoring and countering any negative feedback that could harm their business. Too bad we didn’t check the negative reviews beforehand—we did while we were there, and it helped. We wondered if we’d become too demanding after all our travels, but no—when something’s bad, it’s bad.

Manuel Antonio’s park is even more ridiculous—there’s a short path along the sea for about 500 meters, and then nothing. You have to climb through mud and hack your way through the forest. We ended up barefoot because the mud was up to our calves. All that to see a raccoon and a few parrots flying overhead.

We didn’t expect Noah’s Ark, but we’ve seen more animals in Bali, Mexico, and Thailand while visiting temples or just walking around than in these so-called parks!

Puerto Viejo, not far from Cahuita and supposedly livelier—well, it couldn’t be worse! According to Lonely Planet, it had a Caribbean vibe and wild nights, but maybe that was a long time ago. The good reggae music playing everywhere isn’t enough.

In the evening, Puerto Viejo was a bit livelier than Cahuita, but that’s not saying much. Very few tourists—if any—no night market, just two or three shops open selling $20 T-shirts. Same vibe as San José.

No big deal—we enjoyed the beach and the sun, which was reliable. Our itinerary was supposed to include Tortuguero Park, but after talking to other travelers who’d just been, we changed our minds, knowing we’d be visiting Manuel Antonio Park on the Pacific side.

To get back to the Pacific side, you have to take the bus and go through San José again—5 hours this time—then switch bus terminals and another 4.5 hours to Quepos. A stopover town to get to Manuel Antonio’s beach and park! A town just like the others we’d seen—deserted as soon as the sun sets, and not exactly bustling during the day either. (Where are all the tourists?)

Still as many bars on the windows and that feeling of being in the wrong place.

7 km later: Manuel Antonio beach and park. The beach is very beautiful and quite large, but don’t expect turquoise blue water—the waves stir up the sand, giving the water a brownish color. Along the beach, shops and restaurants for about 300 meters, and then nothing. At night, after sunset, the town shuts down too.

Manuel Antonio Park is highly praised for its wildlife, so we were eager to see it. When you express dissatisfaction with Cahuita or Manzanillo parks, the response is always, "But you should’ve gone to Monteverde or Manuel Antonio!" No matter what you do or say, they’ll tell you, "You should’ve gone there or here."

Back to our famous park—entry was about $16, and contrary to what we’d heard, it wasn’t crowded! Guides at the entrance with spotting scopes offered their services for about $30. The park: a mix of boardwalk and dirt paths through the forest, sometimes running alongside beautiful coves and beaches. As soon as we entered, a crowd was taking photos of a deer eating leaves. A little further on, a guide with a group of five stopped. The guide raised his arm and set up his spotting scope! He showed them, about 100 meters away, a hummingbird perched on a branch. Some, looking through the scope, exclaimed, "Oh my God! Amazing! Incredible!" For a moment, we thought they’d discovered a unicorn or were in Jurassic Park and had just crossed paths with a T-Rex! The concept is comical—looking at a bird or another animal through a spotting scope because it’s too far away. Isn’t that what TV is for? For our part, we saw monkeys, ants, an armadillo, an iguana, and the backside of a sloth climbing a tree. Amazing, incredible!

We stayed a few days in Manuel Antonio to enjoy the beach, changing hotels often because prices varied wildly from one day to the next for shameful services. On top of that, they’d quote a price in dollars and convert it at their discretion—thieves!

Alajuela, a city near the airport, has a two-story mall and a local market downtown! No interest except its proximity to the airport.

What we liked:

The climate and, in hindsight, San José—the most authentic city we visited.

What we didn’t like, in addition to what we’ve already mentioned:

Costa Ricans aren’t very friendly or communicative. English is barely spoken, not even by doctors at Quepos Hospital, where my wife ended up with food poisoning (thanks, Google Translate). The widespread obesity among Costa Ricans, who eat like Americans. The insecurity. The eco-hipsters who leave their $150 lodges in minivans with guides to visit parks and other sites, then return to barricade themselves in their fortresses at nightfall (oh my God, amazing, incredible). The blue signs at the entrance of towns that accept this payment method: "We accept American Express." Parking lots that become paid just because a guy is watching your car. Prices displayed in dollars. The cost of living (hotels, restaurants, taxes). Landscapes that are too green and not flowery enough. Beaches—nothing exceptional. Pollution in cities where big American trucks rule. Sewage dumped directly into the sea. Aside from the jungle, there’s nothing to visit—no ruins, monuments, or anything worth seeing.

In short, my wife and I think the hype about this supposedly eco-friendly country is overrated. It’s just the trendy destination of the moment. There are much better, cheaper, and more authentic places. In hindsight, we keep the good memories and our beautiful photos, but if we had to do it over...

Before signing off, a little message to those who don’t like hearing opinions different from theirs: Well, some things aren’t up for debate. And to those who’d have us believe that in 3 weeks, we don’t have the right to criticize a country or express our feelings—how can you praise it in so little time? What a scam. Costa Rica is a money pit. Pura vida? Pure cosmic emptiness.

If you like spending your evenings barricaded in your cozy hotel after dark, this country is for you. For everyone else: run!

Hello!



I invite you to share our wonderful discovery of Saint-Louis and its surroundings: Djoudj Park and the Langue de Barbarie... Daily life, heritage, landscapes, and wildlife (birds)...

We stayed in Senegal for 10 days in April/May 2018, specifically in Saint-Louis, Senegal, since we were there for the Jazz Festival held every year. But we took the opportunity to explore this country we didn’t know!

In this travel journal, you’ll find: - A short stop in Gorée, which we visited before heading to Saint-Louis - The different faces of Saint-Louis, especially the vibrant fishermen’s district - Djoudj Park, with its many birds - The Langue de Barbarie ... and much more!

Before going to Senegal, I did some research on this forum and others. So many strong opinions about Senegal—you either love it or hate it! If it hadn’t been for the festival, we might not have gone... What a shame that would’ve been, because we loved it!

Of course, I saw poverty, idleness, and litter, especially plastic bags—a global scourge. A bit of harassment from street vendors, especially at first when you don’t know how to deflect it and accidentally encourage it. The privileges of a social class and inequalities, though that’s something you encounter in many poor countries, not just in Africa.

But when I close my eyes and remember our trip, what stays with me is the youth, the beauty of so many boys and girls, the elegance of the women, and the sparkle in their eyes and smiles. The light and colors, the smell of grilled fish, the taste of freshly roasted peanuts and baobab fruit. The honking horns, the call of the muezzins, the music, the bursts of laughter.







To be continued...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey everyone! I’m heading back to India after more than 15 years and I’d love to know what the cost of living is like these days. I’m planning a trip for just under a month—Delhi, Agra, Varanasi, Kolkata—mostly by train and taking it slow. We’re traveling as a couple, so we’ll be splitting accommodation costs. Thanks in advance for your tips! Small travel note: trip planned for early 2027.

Hi everyone,

As part of my professional thesis, I’m conducting a study on the evolution of long-distance rail transport in France, particularly since it opened up to competition. I’ve put together a very quick (about 5-minute) and completely anonymous questionnaire. Your answers will help me better understand users' expectations regarding pricing, frequency, and environmental impact.

Questionnaire link: https://forms.gle/gF1YyesVp2hkh2GDA

Thanks so much for your help! !

All my trips combined, I’ve spent at most the equivalent of a year in Thailand, and I’m not a big expert on it. Still, after many stays, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, conversations with plenty of locals and expats, my view of the country is getting clearer—though it’s always evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.

Hi, I’m looking for recent opinions on where to stay: Ella or Haputale. Doesn’t Haputale also have the added advantage of the train? Thanks for your input!

Hello everyone! As part of my MBA in Wine & Spirits at the Académie des Vins in Alsace, I’m conducting a study on the evolution of enotourism in France. The goal is to better understand what attracts visitors, their habits, and their expectations when exploring our wine regions. Whether you're a wine lover, a travel enthusiast, or just curious, your input matters. (Even if you’ve never visited a wine estate, you can take part!) Anonymous survey / 4 to 5 minutes To complete the survey: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSc-loQM0O6NWvXRd6J1XrFXLBNbXHTcR5UT1JTFUnX4aeFK0w/viewform?usp=header A huge thank you for your participation and for any shares! This will really help me with my study.

Note: No advertising, promotions, product sales, or service offers are included 2.16.1.2

Hi everyone,

We’re a family of four—two adults with two kids aged 4 and 7—about to embark on a year-long round-the-world trip in a camper van. I’m currently planning the Asia leg, which should last about 6 months. We’ll arrive in Thailand in January, head north, then move on to Laos. Ideally, we’d continue to Vietnam, Cambodia, and then return to Thailand to head south into Malaysia. If the budget allows, we’d love to include China and Japan. The big question after lots of research is: how easy is it to temporarily import a vehicle into these countries? The info I’ve found is outdated (2019–2020), and given how quickly regulations change, I’d love to hear from anyone currently (or recently) traveling in these countries with their vehicle. I’ve read that you need a local guide in Vietnam, local license plates in China, and that importing a vehicle into China is quite complicated—are these rules still in place? More generally, is there a recommended route for this part of the world with a camper van?

Thanks in advance!

Hi there, I need to apply for an ESTA: we’ll be on a cruise from Barcelona and will have a stopover in San Diego before disembarking two days later in Los Angeles. From there, we’ll continue our trip on our own, all the way to Las Vegas, where we’ll catch our flight back to Paris. So our point of entry into the U.S. will be San Diego. The form then asks if we’re in transit, and if not, to provide contact details for a U.S. contact (hotel or otherwise). But we don’t yet know what we’ll be doing there—we’ll actually be traveling around since we’re heading to San Francisco and Las Vegas without any prior reservations. What should we do since I don’t see any option that matches our trip? Thanks in advance for your help. Have a great Sunday, everyone.

Hello, We’re a group of four seventy-something retirees and we’re planning a 4-week trip to South Africa. We’re seasoned "adventurers" used to multi-week stays (we’ve been to India seven times, Mexico, Thailand, Laos, Myanmar, Australia, etc.).

For South Africa, we’re thinking of covering most of the trip in a private vehicle and taking flights for inter-state transfers. We’re interested in meeting people, learning about the country’s evolution, exploring major cities, visiting traditional villages, and seeing wildlife.

Here’s the itinerary we’re considering: Johannesburg – 2 days (we’ll pass through again later) Pretoria – 2 days Blyde River Canyon and Graskop – 1 day Acornhoek – 1 day Letaba – 2 days Lobamba – 2 days Johannesburg – 1 day

Flight to Cape Town

Cape Town – 3 days Cape of Good Hope – 1 day Stellenbosch – 1 day Hermanus – 1 day Mossel Bay – 2 days Oudtshoorn Wilderness – 2 days Knysna Port Elizabeth – 2 days Addo Elephant Park

Flight back to Johannesburg

Johannesburg – 1 day

Return to Paris

Could you share your thoughts on this itinerary? We’ll be renting a vehicle to explore both regions. We can easily add 4–5 more days to the trip if needed.

We’re looking at traveling either between April and May 2026 or in October/November 2026.

I’ll follow up later to discuss the best safari options and get a rough budget estimate.

Thanks to everyone who takes the time to read this and share their thoughts!

Hi,

A pretty serious issue has come up in the past few weeks for traveling to Tanzania.

What’s the deal with airlines in Tanzania? https://www.capital.fr/economie-politique/ce-pays-est-tres-touristique-mais-ses-compagnies-aeriennes-sont-placees-sur-liste-noire-par-l-europe-1515325 https://www.charentelibre.fr/tourisme/la-tanzanie-sur-liste-noire-de-l-europe-des-vols-interieurs-a-haut-risque-pour-100-000-touristes-francais-25002566.php

Basically, all airlines have been blacklisted because they don’t meet European safety standards. They’re banned from flying in Europe but continue operating in Tanzania. The main issue is that travel agencies’ civil liability no longer applies to blacklisted airlines. So we can’t allow clients to fly with these carriers. Of course, there’s huge pressure from European agencies, which are forced to disrupt their plans or even cancel trips because of this. Personally, I’ve got a trip planned for February 2026 to the southern parks in Tanzania, so I’ll be keeping an eye on how this develops. Do any of you have updates? Thanks!

Loïc

Hi there,

Starting November 27th, Air France will offer a new direct route between Paris-Charles de Gaulle and Phuket, in the south of the Asian country. There will be 3 flights per week on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays from Paris, with returns on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays from Phuket. The flights will be operated using a Boeing 777-300ER equipped with 472 seats

This first trip of 2025 will have the taste of Asia.

More precisely, Thailand!

It’s not my first time—I’ve often traveled across Southeast Asia between 2000 and 2015. (This travel journal, for example...)

But it’ll be my partner’s first steps in this part of the world.

The itinerary we’ve chosen will alternate between familiar sights for me and new discoveries for both of us.

I’ll get to see how the country has changed in 20 years—and what’s stayed the same!

We were torn between the north and the south of the kingdom. Fears of smoke from slash-and-burn farming and a desire to relax on the sand tipped the scales toward the south...

What if we rented a car?

I think driving in sprawling Bangkok would be a bit ambitious, so we’ll only book our vehicle from Hua Hin to return it in Surat Thani.

Other transportation will range from tuk-tuks to overnight trains and ride-hailing services.

And of course, the plane!

I’d love to travel from Auvergne to Bangkok by road, but 15 days wouldn’t be enough...

Plus, the current geopolitical situation isn’t exactly favorable...

So, once again, we’ll be stuck for hours in the less-than-comfortable economy class of Qatar Airways.

The arrival time was on schedule, entry formalities were quick, and all our luggage made it.

We left Lyon in wind and cold—now we’re breathing in the warm, humid air of กรุงเทพมหานคร.

To reach our hotel, we first took the metro, which dropped us off in the city center in about 30 minutes for the incredible price of 1.18 €.

A few taps on the GRAB app, and we booked a ride-hailing service for the last few kilometers.

We waited a while for our driver due to insane traffic in the area, but once in the 4x4, we were at our lodging in no time.

We chose this small hotel for its riverside location, tranquility, and price.

It’ll do the job perfectly—the only downside is the weak breakfast.

The room is inviting, and we collapse onto the bed for a well-deserved short nap.

Wake-up call in an hour for our first visits!

See you soon...

Ascension is the time for the P'tits Gros, the BMH & Co association is organizing a gathering for off-road travel lovers, from 4x4s to vans and heavy-duty trucks. On the first day, arrival at the bivouac means first meetings and discussions about travel, vehicle conversions, and always a bit of mechanics. Over the following days, everyone can test their vehicle on an evolution course, and it all wraps up with our association's general assembly followed by a meal. To register for the gathering, CLICK HERE https://forum.debucquoi.com/

Hi there, I’ve planned a trip to Santorini and Amorgos in mid-April for two weeks, and I bought my flight ticket just before the seismic tremors started. Now I’m torn between going or canceling my trip. I’d love to know what the situation is like on the ground for tourists. I’ve read that half the residents have left the island and there’s a staff shortage. I’m wondering if hotels, restaurants, shops, buses, and taxis are operating normally? Also, I’d planned to do some hikes, especially along the cliffs, but I’ve read that some areas are now advised against or even off-limits due to risk of collapse. If anyone has visited Santorini or Amorgos recently, I’d love to hear your experiences. Thanks!

claudio didn’t get its purpose: no secure bike access and it leads to a sketchy path through a grim commercial zone that’s really tough to ride on at the exit. Anyone have an explanation?

http://cbandiera.free.fr/vlsrt/bld-z.php?N=6359

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

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

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

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

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

A massive explosion sets things off... then around 5:30 PM, a huge, coordinated crowd floods the streets of Bujumbura—and the rest of the country—growing by the minute and surging through the main arteries in deafening noise. Backed by every kind of vehicle—motorized or not—pedestrians, bikes, Bajaj, Volkswagens, and Toyota Coasters unite to raise their voices with blaring horns that could wake a nearby ancestor or the Supreme Guide. The police and all law enforcement in the country—military included—are on high alert but haven’t intervened yet, keeping a very close eye on how the situation develops!

Still at work when RFI and France24 send me their "urgent" Burundi alerts, a full 90 minutes after the reliable outlet "Iwacu Burundi" broke the news. My trusty wall calendar and today’s date stamp confirm it’s March 23, 2019, backed up by my phone. Worried, I think to myself, *Oh no, here we go again in this tiny Central African country... But my God, why???*

Hi there, I didn’t plan to return to Thailand this year, but my health conditions mean it’ll be the best place for me to stay between two trips to India. The tourism setup there is so well-organized that it’s the most "comfortable" country for a short visit. Thailand feels too sanitized for my taste, and there’s too much religion, Buddha, and the King, but it’s still the best option given how my health has been evolving. I’d considered two weeks in ThaTon for hiking, but I got too sick from the burn-offs during my trips to the mountains around Chiang Rai. So I’m not sure where to go this year. Definitely not the sea, touristy spots, or the mountains with burn-offs...

Thanks, friends, if you’ve got any suggestions.

When you think of traveling in Tanzania, you often picture high-altitude treks and 4x4 safaris. However, for those who prefer exploring on two wheels, the country’s vast network of dirt tracks, volcanic terrain, and diverse ecosystems make it one of Africa’s most rewarding cycling destinations.

Whether you prefer challenging alpine climbs, fast gravel trails, or coastal rides, here’s a look at what makes cycling in northern Tanzania so exceptional, along with some of the region’s best routes:

1. Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro by bike (Kilema route) Terrain: Singletracks through humid rainforest, gravel paths in the moorland zone, and alpine desert scree. * The experience: For experienced mountain bikers seeking a high-altitude challenge, the Kilema route is the official bike-accessible path on Kilimanjaro. The trail winds through lush rainforest before reaching the open heathlands near Horombo. Higher up, crossing the alpine desert toward Kibo demands endless bike carries and pushes, but descending through the forest canopy remains an unforgettable experience.

2. The full 360° loop around Kilimanjaro’s base Terrain: Red clay earth, two-track trails, rolling gravel, and volcanic paths (total loop of about 360 km). The experience: Circling Kilimanjaro lets you admire its landscapes from every angle. The route meanders through Chagga farmlands, coffee plantations, dense forests, and the open Maasai plains of the western side (like the West Kili area). It offers stunning views of Kibo and Mount Meru while passing through local villages.

3. From Kilimanjaro to Lake Natron (descent into the Great Rift Valley) Terrain: Technical gravel, dry riverbeds (wadis), unstable volcanic rock, and acacia scrub. The experience: This route takes cyclists from the fertile high slopes of Kilimanjaro to the dramatic, arid scenery of the Great Rift Valley. As you approach Lake Natron, the active volcano Ol Doinyo Lengai (“Mountain of God”) dominates the horizon. The final stretch across the Rift floor leads to the saline, serene shores of Lake Natron, a prime breeding ground for large colonies of lesser flamingos.

4. Wildlife zones and corridors Terrain: Packed dirt tracks, animal trails, and undulating bush paths. The experience: Pedaling through the northern circuit’s wild buffer zones and Wildlife Management Areas (WMAs) offers an authentic off-the-beaten-path cycling safari. Riding through acacia woodlands often provides sightings of savanna wildlife like giraffes, zebras, and antelopes in their natural habitat.

5. Coast to coast: From Kilimanjaro to Zanzibar Terrain: Varied surfaces—from highland dirt tracks to coastal asphalt and sandy island trails. The experience: Combining the cool mountain air of Kilimanjaro with the tropical Indian Ocean coastline, this long-distance route transitions from mountainous foothills to rural towns before ending at the coast for a boat crossing to Zanzibar. There, you can cycle along white-sand beaches lined with palm trees and through the historic heart of Stone Town.

Practical tips for cycling in Tanzania

Bike choice: A sturdy hardtail MTB, full-suspension MTB, or gravel bike with ample clearance (tires at least 2.0 inches) is ideal for tackling loose rocks, sandy patches, and corrugated tracks. Mid-drive e-MTBs are also popular for handling steep climbs. Navigation: Using offline mapping apps (like Maps.me) alongside pre-downloaded GPX route files is essential for navigating rural tracks where mobile signal may be nonexistent. Best time to go: The dry seasons—June to October and December to March—offer the best trail conditions, firmer ground, and clear mountain views.

Tanzania delivers the perfect mix of technical riding, impressive elevation, and cultural immersion right alongside local communities. Don’t hesitate to ask if you have questions about trail conditions or gear to bring!

Hello everyone,

After our first trip as a young couple to the West in 2007 (yes, that doesn’t make us any younger!), we’re planning to go back in 2028, but this time as a family of four! (We have two boys who’ll be 5½ and 13 years old in the summer of 2028.)

Our plan is to combine a few big cities (SF and LA, maybe San Diego) with national parks and state parks, mostly! Ideally, we’d like to leave at the end of June and head back to France around July 19–20, so we can enjoy the first week of the Olympic Games in Los Angeles.

Since we already did the "loop" in 2007, there are must-see places we absolutely want to revisit—and especially share with our kids: Bryce Canyon, Yosemite, and above all, the Grand Canyon, which is still the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen on Earth!

On the other hand, some places didn’t leave a big impression on us for various reasons, so we’re not making them a priority: Antelope Canyon, Monument Valley, for example.

We’re planning ahead, but might as well be smart about it😏

Do you have any tips for a fun and doable itinerary over about 20–25 days with kids, without rushing?

Thanks in advance for your feedback😉

Hello. In 1996, we crossed Vietnam from Saigon to Hanoi by motorbike—Minsk bikes we bought in Saigon. I haven’t been back since, and it seems like a lot has changed.

- We’re heading to the south (well, the north and center) with the family in July-August (3 people).

- Is the road network more developed now? Back then, there was only National Route 1 from south to north. I’m thinking of renting a car this time (no motorbike with the family—though in ’96, they had a Jawa sidecar for sale, and we hesitated… maybe it’s for the best).

- Is Halong Bay really something to avoid because of overtourism? Even back then, it was pretty crowded. Is there a less touristy alternative?

- We’ll be traveling from Hanoi down to Danang (the only city we didn’t stop in back in ’96). Even though it’s a bit overhyped in a Chinese-tourist kind of way (from what I’ve read), we’re only going for the beach—pure relaxation for 7 days. The beaches are stunning, and I know the South China Sea is warm like coffee.

- Then, we’ll visit Hoi An, where I stopped in ’96. It was already popular with backpackers back then, but no glowing boats or all the touristy fuss!

- After that, Hue, where I have great memories—it’s a beautiful city.

- And also the nature around Ninh Binh, followed by 2-3 days in Hanoi.

That’s the plan. I’d love to hear any tips to avoid mass tourism, and if anyone’s done this before: - Is it possible to rent a car in Danang and drop it off in Hanoi?

Thanks, and long live the Nam! !

Hi there,

We’re thinking of spending 3 weeks in Asia this fall to visit some of the major capitals on this vast continent. We’d like to get a (very rough) sense of just how fast Asia is moving compared to what we see in the West (we’re from Quebec). For now, our very preliminary list includes Tokyo, Hong Kong, and Singapore. There are obviously plenty of other options—Seoul, Shanghai, etc.

What do you think? Thanks in advance!