Results for "Féroé+(îles)"

Salut a tous,

Une petite question : savez vous quel est le meilleur moyen (le moins cher...) de passer d'indonésie en Malaisie ? avion ou bateau ? J'aurai une préférence pour le bateau...mais si quelqu'un a plus de détails, je l'en remercie.

A+

bonjour à toutes et à tous,

je vais me rendre en thailande pour la première fois en avril avec un ami pour environ 3 semaines et j'aurais besoins de conseils concernant hotels et visites diverses pour bangjok (2/3 jours) et phuket et environs

et pourquoi pas correspondre avec des gens qui seront à phuket en avril pour se retrouver et boire un verre ensemble sur place

merci d'avance pour votre aide et à bientôt

ps: j'espère surtout profiter de la mer et découvrir de fabuleux endroits

salut tout le monde

* Voila je pars en thailande du 28 jan 2004 au 14 fevrier2004 je n ai rien reserve ai je bien bien fait?il me semble que c est une de periode d affluence?moi il m importe peu de dormir n importe ou; mais je pars avec ma copine;

* Serait il possible de savoir combien en moyenne coute une nuit (je sais c est tres vague alors on va dire quelque chose de propre mais pas luxe)d hotel de guest house?sur bankok et sur une petite ile. En parlant d argent :le mieux c est change en france ?change a bankok?traveler cheque?carte bleue?prendre du dollars?

* je prend un avion de la thai sont il bien, comment dire ?"bien reviser"?le service je m en fout un peu mais les info me font chier avec leur manie de tout exagerer?(putain de jounaleux)

* voila presque fini mes inquetudes savez vous les dates des full moon et du jour de l an chinois (jai peur que tout soit ferme)

desole je ne suis pas idiot mais ma copine me rend nerveux a propos de ce voyages

merci par avance dde votre aide

c la grande question que je me pose pour mon voyage de noce les 15 premiers jours d'avril prochain

alors si vous pouvez me citer les differences entre les deux iles à tout niveau (acceuil, excursions, hotel, prix, sport, faune et flore) je vous en serait vraiment reconnaissant.

merci

😎Hi there, fellow backpackers in French Polynesia,

I’ll share my personal impressions and some tips for budget backpackers. French Polynesia isn’t just for the rich—I’ve met plenty of backpackers exploring these islands on a shoestring! The biggest expense is definitely the flight ticket. Since the beginning of April 2003, Corsair no longer serves Papeete, leaving only Air France and Air Tahiti Nui (and long live competition!). (AF is ATN’s partner, and a round-trip Paris-Papeete ticket costs at least 1300 € all taxes included.)

"An agreement was signed on 14/08/2002 between the Government of French Polynesia, Nouvelles Frontières Touraventure, Air Tahiti Nui, and Corsair. Corsair’s operation of the Papeete route was scheduled to continue until March 31, 2003. From that date, the Polynesian carrier Air Tahiti Nui would reinforce this route and put two A 340-300s into service."

Before heading to French Polynesia, ask for the brochure *"La petite hôtellerie & l'hébergement chez l'habitant à Tahiti et ses Îles"* (updated every year). Of course, a travel guide from the bookstore is also very useful. Address: Maison de Tahiti et ses îles, 28, bld Saint Germain, 75005 Paris Phone: 01 55 42 64 64 www.voyageatahiti.com This brochure helped me a lot: rates, phone numbers, transfer prices, camping info...

French Polynesia is vast! Which islands do you want to visit? The Marquesas from September to December, and the rest... Two seasons: hot and humid from November to March, and a cooler season from April to October. Note that the rainy season runs from November to April. It can rain for 3 or 4 days straight... but hey, as the Tahitians say: so what! Or, well, plants need rain. In July and August, it gets chilly in the evenings in Tahiti and Moorea (the record is 16°C)!

Things to do on Tahiti: island tour, excursion to the interior, the Pearl Museum, the Museum of Tahiti and its Islands, dinner at the food trucks on the waterfront parking lot (VIP boats), Papeete Market. After that, it’s time to head to the other islands...

Cheapest accommodation right in the center of Papeete: Teamo Hostel (5-minute walk from the market!). Dorm beds cost 2100 CFP (a bit run-down, but hey, we’re backpackers, right?). It’s run by a Chinese grandma married to a Tahitian. (You can’t cook or make coffee anymore because some backpackers stole kitchen utensils.) Apparently, there’s a cheap place to stay near the hospital where you can cook, but I don’t know the address...

Truck fare from FAA airport to downtown Papeete: 130 CFP during the day, 200 CFP at night (runs 24/7). You can eat cheaply at Papeete Market (sandwiches for 300 CFP, takeaway meals from 400 to 700 CFP).

Maritime transport from Papeete to Moorea: Aremiti Ferry, 1060 CFP one way. Truck to Moorea Camping or Nelson and Josiane’s camping: 300 CFP. Rates at Nelson’s: camping 1100 CFP/night/person; dorm 1600 CFP/night/person—clean and much better than Moorea Camping.

At Moorea Camping, the shark tour (feeding sharks and rays + snorkeling) costs 2500 CFP/person for guests and 3000 CFP for others (it’s the cheapest on the island—I did it three times!). Getting around isn’t easy because the truck only runs according to ferry schedules, about 3 or 4 times a day. You’ll need to rent a bike or scooter, but it’s expensive: bike rental for 8 hours is 2000 CFP. For the sporty types, the island tour is 60 km.

I can’t afford to stay at the Sofitel in Moorea, but I know it has the most beautiful beach on the island!

To continue to the other islands, you’ll need to either return to Papeete or take a plane, but since we’re broke, we head back to Papeete to catch the boats at Motu-Uta (the maritime port, a 15-minute walk from downtown). Destinations include: - Tuamotu: Tikehau, Rangiroa, Ahe, Apataki, Manihi, Fakarava... - Austral Islands: Rimatara, Rurutu, Tubuai, Raivavae, Rapa - Leeward Islands: Huahine, Raiatea, Tahaa, Bora Bora, Maupiti - Gambier and the Marquesas Islands: Nuku-Hiva, Hiva-Oa...

You can get maritime schedules from the tourist office (very useful for boat info, schedules, destinations, rates, etc.).

For transport, opt for inter-island ships: schooners or bonitiers (super cheap), but be prepared for long trips with minimal comfort and seasickness... For example, Rurutu to Papeete takes 42 hours at sea! Papeete to Bora Bora is 22 hours!

Update: The cargo ship Dory 2 sank (gasoline explosion), and Vaeanu II is grounded on the reef at Rimatara (Austral Islands).

To be continued in episode (2/)...

Bonjour vous tous,

j'ai un plan de 1 mois pour l'année prochaine qui est de quitté la terre Québécoise pour la terre Européenne mais tout ceci ne se fait pas en criant ciseau. J'aimerais bien connaitre les endroits ou il y a des auberges de jeunesses etc etc en savoir d'avantage sur les endroits ou allé quand on est une jeune fille qui désire partir à l'aventure seule. L'Islande me passionne énormément aussi mais comme l'endroit coute énormément je vais resté dans mes moyens sans trop m'endêter. Alors ca serait très plaisant de recevoir des commentaires de gens vivant dans le pays ou je désire vraiment allé....😊

Bonne journée 🙂

Ariane

Bonjour bonjour!!!

Je viens de craquer sur l'île de Porquerolles pour mes vacances en août avec mon amoureux, quelqu'un aurait des plans pour se loger pas trop trop cher, ou simplement envie de me raconter son expérience sur place?

Nous y resterions à peu près 8 jours... Y a-t-il beaucoup de monde au mois d'août?

Merci à tous ceux qui voudront partager leurs souvenirs...😉

Revenant du Venezuela, je vous deconseille Caracas actuellement: l ambiance y est merdique pour cause de "semi guerre" civile. Par contre, le reste du pays vaut vraiment la peine. Aucun touristes et prix defiants toute concurrence. A noter Choroni, Ile Marguerite et surtout la Savana Grande dans le debut de l Amazonie (plus hautes chutes d eau du monde mais il vaut mieux attendre un mois que le debit d eau grossisse).

Hello,

We’re planning a trip to Thailand for next summer. It’s the rainy season, but that’ll let us explore forest parks (Khao Yai and Khao Sok, most likely) in full bloom and teeming with wildlife. We’d also like to spend a few days on beaches with nearby coral reefs during this trip. That’s where we’re hitting a snag—I’m struggling to find an island or region with favorable weather. I’ve gone through quite a few threads on this forum, but most are pretty old and mention a few names (Tao, Phaluai, Ma, or Phang Nga), though with doubts about visibility or overall appeal. Crowds also seemed like a bit of an issue. Just to clarify, our family has mixed interests when it comes to fish-related activities—some are Level 1 divers, while others are snorkelers only.

Are there any good options in July-August for great experiences in the area? Thanks for your tips!

Hi everyone, it’s been a while since I last posted!

First time in South America for me, my wife, and our 7-year-old son. I’ve put together this itinerary and would love to hear your thoughts:

Bogotá 28/07 – 30/07: Arrival. Which neighborhood and outings would you recommend? Flight to

2 Filandia 30/07 – 03/08: (255 €). Waterfalls and horseback riding, Cocora Valley, Hiking, Nearby villages. Flight to 3 Tayrona 03/08 – 07/08: Hotel La Casablanca

Hike with Tierra Nevada and the Kogui village (any feedback?). Return by inner tube for the little one. Short night hike. Second hike to La Piscina, etc., return by 🐎.

4 Cartagena 07/08 – 10/08: Air-conditioned bus. Staying in Getsemaní? Mangroves & the Castle, exploring the city.

5 Bogotá 10/08 – 12/08

Feel free to share your feedback! Have a great day!

Seb

It’s an understatement to say that Japan is a world apart. All around me, people exclaim: "How lucky you are to be able to go there! I’ve always dreamed of visiting, of finding myself in that culture blending tradition and technology!" Yes, they’re right. Until the moment their dreams become reality and things appear as they truly are, without the filter of fantasized preconceptions. Because in the collective unconscious, Japan indeed seems like a civilization—if not neutral—at least stripped of any social maturation. As if it had emerged all at once from its canonical ages, offering only the best of its traditions, and as if those traditions were undoubtedly the foundation of its extraordinary discipline. Yet, as always, the truth is far more complex. Modern Japan is likely shaped by its millennia-old traditions. But that Japan is also the result of its own uncertainties and contradictions. I’ve always been wary. I’ve never understood why the cleaning women on the platform bow when the train arrives. At some point, too much discipline, too much deference—it makes you smile, it raises questions.

Finally, thanks to F., a dream is coming true! Not the dream of going to Japan—a country I’ve visited more than any other, except for Réunion and the UK—but the dream of completing the fastest round-the-world trip of my career. Indeed, due to the restrictions imposed by the Russians*, the plane flies over the Caucasus and China on the way there; on the return, it gracefully heads toward the Arctic after skirting the Aleutian Islands, Alaska, and Greenland. So, in nearly 26 hours of flight, I complete my 6th round-the-world trip. A round-the-world trip with just one stopover. Or two, if you count our impromptu detour to Okinawa.

(* In response to Western sanctions, Russia closed its airspace to Western airlines on February 28, 2022, except for Air Serbia, Turkish Airlines, Pegasus, and Belavia. This decision adds 2 to 3 hours to flight times and, incidentally, increases operating costs.)

The empire of noise. The empire that dazzles. In Japan, the auditory and visual space is constantly fed. No respite. You have to be strong. Navigating public transport feels like playing the most advanced video game: moving between language barriers and a different organization, the hero tries to ignore the numerous visual and auditory distractions. Mostly auditory, though. Because in Japan, there’s a culture of noise that has undoubtedly inspired our national railways. Everything must be announced. So, here and there, all along the route, we find agents whose sole role is to endlessly repeat safety messages through megaphones more or less suited to the situation. The result is a constant murmur, a kind of tinnitus, a subtle but incessant buzz that fades only at bedtime and returns with a vengeance at first light, when we descend back into the supposedly sterile depths of Osaka’s subway. "To go right, please turn right, kudasaï. When descending the stairs, please mind the steps, kudasaï. To go straight, please take the left corridor, kudasaï." That *kudasaï* ("please" in Japanese), I assure you, has permanently lodged itself in my auditory cells.

Screens are no exception; the brain is constantly stimulated. But paradoxically, passengers massively retreat into their own worlds via their screens. Literally glued to their phones, earbuds firmly in place, people escape into the virtual aisles of a furniture store, a game, a movie... In the train cars, raised voices are rare. The field is clear for announcements and other jingles. Each stop is announced by a little tune unique to each station. Simply incredible.

If we usually judge a country by the welcome its inhabitants offer, in Japan, we’re left wanting. Indeed, the Lost in Translation* spirit doesn’t just apply to verbal exchanges—it applies to everything, especially non-verbal communication. In Japan, me, the slightly North African Corsican, I’m at a loss. I speak loudly, I gesture, in front of a hotel concierge just as lost. Each for our own reasons. Yes, he speaks some English, but we can’t seem to connect. It’s a losing battle trying to find a bit of compassion from a local who’s far from familiar with Western concerns. I try to buy tickets for the World Expo? I run into a systematization as rigid as it is abrupt, which the concierge can’t seem to navigate. While we might still have a shred of common sense, here in Japan, everything is digitized. Soon, no one will be surprised that a QR code becomes essential just to go to the bathroom.

(* Film by Sofia Coppola, released in 2003, which explores isolation, unease, Japanese culture, and language through the experiences of two protagonists.)

In the end, we get that ticket for the Expo. After providing personal information on yet another account created for the occasion, we buy electronic tickets—a QR code, then—to regulate the comings and goings, the souls and aspirations of all these wandering beings scattered across the globe. And it’s probably for the best... Because we’ll be tens of thousands of visitors—100,000 to 150,000 per day—walking the aisles of this enormous improvised amusement park, a kind of delirious superstructure surrounded by the Grand Ring, the largest wooden construction in the world. Inside the park, the pavilions, flagship vessels of their respective countries, compete in ingenuity, proportionate to their GDP, to attract visitors. But you have to wait up to two hours to visit the most popular ones! Fortunately, about a hundred countries can be explored without waiting in shared, more spacious areas. What will I remember from this adventure? The beauty of that wooden structure, despite any environmental or financial considerations—200M € for barely renewable elements; a certain poetry, even magic, in the expression of this event—conversing with Juliette Petit, the splendid representative of Vanuatu, had something indescribable; a close-up experience of Japanese discipline when it came time to return to the subway after that epic evening—thousands upon thousands of people converging at the same time toward a single place without any interruption in the flow.

But my real passion is the countryside. So, I’ll especially remember that brief escape, on the very first day, to the Mino-o waterfall, where the journey itself was already enchanting. Quickly leaving the underground lines, our train speeds through the city’s endless expanse and drops us at the foot of a hill, the abrupt edge of the urban sprawl. The slope was too steep to build anything? We leave behind an impressive hotel, a capitalist eyesore defying the laws of elevation to tackle the climb toward the waterfall. A bucolic walk where the stroller can choose between a paved path or more epic trails. Here and there, stalls, temples, everywhere, a certain serenity. The city’s pulse gives way to a magnificent spectacle magnified by giant sequoias. From the depths of a ravine, we try to glimpse the sky beyond the foliage. Everything is oversized. Here, you can breathe.

***

In reality, Japan has never undertaken any real work of memory. Aside from a few feeble gestures to appease Washington in its choice of Asian partners, one wonders if the Japanese have ever truly grasped the horror they were forced to participate in. While our Judeo-Christian society has more or less assimilated the notions of forgiveness and self-questioning, where does Japanese society stand, juggling a millennia-old Zen philosophy and the unabashed Machiavellianism of an emperor utterly possessed? Is it just me, or does there float in the atmosphere a kind of unease, a malaise, an awkward relationship with reality? For me, bowing to a train as it enters the station is just the result of a poorly directed moral dilemma...

Ah, how distant is the time of sakoku, that closure of the country—both concrete and ideological—that was in vogue for two centuries. Because if no one could enter, no one could leave either! A boon for neighboring countries. But from 1854, following the skirmishes of Commodore Matthew Perry, who demanded Japan’s participation in trade, the country suddenly became aware of the disparities separating it from the West. Bring Japan up to the level of other nations? Industrialization, competition, search for raw materials... Hirohito (1901–1989) emerges on the scene, a bit expansionist and willing to stop at nothing to achieve his goals. Above all, he knew how to use, in his own way, the incredible capacity for self-sacrifice of his people...

We protest, we condemn, we all rally behind an acceptable discourse when it comes to discussing the use of the atomic bomb. Yet, we forget one essential thing: Hiroshima wasn’t enough to make Hirohito yield. While we’re bombarded with anti-fascist elements, as if the sole purpose of school curricula were to prevent us from voting for the National Rally, we completely overlook those events of rare cruelty that took place on the other side of the globe at a time contemporary with Nazi atrocities. Why? Because it was farther away, on the other side of the world? Because we must both condemn the use of nuclear weapons and Nazism? What a dangerous game. Killing civilians is beyond comprehension, everyone agrees on that. But hasn’t Japan ever been guilty of such atrocities? Our empathy is legitimate; it won’t, however, remove from my mind the idea that there was no other solution. Nagasaki is the most telling proof of that.

At least in France, in school textbooks, Hitler will have completely overshadowed the existence of people crueler and more abject than him. Certainly, Adolf was a deeply disturbed man whom events propelled to power. But I’m justified in believing that his approach was probably more humane than that of Joseph Stalin at the height of his art*. And if Hirohito followed the same line as Hitler, in the sense that he represented the superior race, he would apply with conviction what was Stalin’s credo: contempt for his own people when sending them to slaughter, and an even fiercer contempt for the human race when it didn’t have the good fortune to be Japanese. Just look at how China was invaded and by what means millions of Chinese were annihilated, burned, deported, buried alive! Operation Scorched Earth or Three Alls Policy for kill all, burn all, loot all? No comment. Even today, the Japanese are convinced they waged a patriotic war, when clearly, that war served only vague ideological (and certainly economic) interests.

(* "In many ways, Hitler’s National Socialism was far more humane than Communism: it wasn’t unthinkable to speak to the SS or the Gestapo, and dissuading them from sending you to a prison camp wasn’t utopian. To some extent (compared to the Communists), you could still expect a semblance of justice. All those who lived under Hitler and under Communism will tell you: as the front lines shifted, they always managed to end up in Germany, where, though it was a strange place ruled by a madman, life went on. Under Communism, there was no life; totalitarianism was absolute. Probably, Hitler’s conservatism prevented him from fully imitating Bolshevism." Seraphim Rose in The Revolutions of the 19th and 20th Centuries (circa 1970))

In Naha, we visit two strategic sites: the Imperial Navy headquarters and Maeda Escarpment, in Urasoe, better known as Hacksaw Ridge. I love this confrontation with history. In the hand-dug tunnels of the headquarters, we meet Japanese people seeking information. They’re not responsible for this tragedy. Neither are we. I would have liked to tell them that, to hug them, to move on. To finally believe in those peace messages displayed here and there. Yes, it’s curious to read those calls for peace* when no real work of memory** has been undertaken. Two civilizations, two perspectives, a profound misunderstanding. When I analyze the waste of that war—and particularly the waste of those Pacific battles—like Peleliu in autumn 1944 and Okinawa in spring 1945—I can’t bring myself to share in the pathological patriotism that reigns within these walls. There, the room where the last message of Admiral Minoru Ōta was transmitted in Morse, praising the merits of the archipelago’s people. A tangled mix that, yes, is charged with positive emotions but, no, won’t remove from my mind the idea that this people was completely conditioned, completely disconnected from reality. Allying with the Axis powers? Invading the South Pacific? And finding that noble! Everyone sees things through their own lens.

(* Peace Declaration by Denny Tamaki, Governor of Okinawa, June 2020. ** "Recognizing the atrocities committed by one’s country requires a mix of democratic culture and self-confidence that is more the exception than the rule." Dominique Moïsi in Les Échos, April 30, 2015)

Okinawa. 200,000 dead. Stemming from bushido, the way of the warrior, this conditioning reached its peak with the kamikaze philosophy in particular and suicide in general. So, schematically, here’s how things went: as the island was encircled—Peleliu, Iwo Jima, Okinawa—and all hope was lost, the order was given to kill ten American soldiers before taking one’s own life. The deceit of this system, where surrender is synonymous with dishonor, involves creating tunnels and secret pockets where Japanese soldiers hide and from which they emerge. Long before the atomic bomb, the knell of their war had sounded. Hiroshima and Nagasaki are just the result of human pride, of which Hirohito’s reign is the finest example. Why was this henchman of Satan left in place until his death? I don’t understand. While the humiliation inflicted on Germany repeatedly was abject, especially for its people, the absence of any real and pressing accountability for Hirohito in this large-scale carnage he instigated leaves room for the wildest interpretations. As if to underscore my point, Emperor Naruhito visited Okinawa the same day we did, paying his respects to the inhabitants who fell in battle. I looked at the faces in the monorail serving the south of the island. There were elderly people who undoubtedly lost their parents eighty years ago. To what extent can they blame this tragedy on the delusional visions of their leaders?

On Maeda Escarpment, I salute the courage of Desmond Doss, that conscientious objector who fought to serve his country while refusing to ever carry a weapon. There, at the top of a steep ridge, you can see to the north the Allies’ advance, while to the south, the slope is gentler down to Shuri, in front of the headquarters. The underground is a Swiss cheese filled with enemies. Desmond works as a medic. He manages to save 75 wounded from certain death by evacuating them at night from the battlefield using makeshift ropes. Back in Osaka, far from the somewhat dilapidated tropical islands, I rediscover the splendor and grandeur of Japan’s second-largest city. To tell the truth, and this applies to Okinawa too, the density is so insane on this archipelago that you sometimes wonder if it’s not just one giant city spread across the vast territory. Because between Tokyo and Osaka, while there are some mountains and forests, it’s the city that dominates; during rush hour, a rapid train connects the two cities every five minutes. We get lost in rather quiet alleys parallel to the main streets, only to find ourselves in the covered and lively galleries of Dōtonbori. We’re looking for a place to eat—above all, we’re trying to navigate the unlimited options stretching endlessly along the sidewalks. It’s absolutely mind-blowing. And while I introduce F. to a part of history that our Western societies have quickly forgotten, he initiates me into Japanese gastronomy despite my well-known aversion to Asian food. But nothing beats having a master in the field! We feast on okonomiyaki, Japanese pancakes expertly prepared and served on a teppan embedded in our table.

Night falls on Japan, and I still haven’t found the answer. Like in Singapore, one can praise the calm and serenity of human relationships, the delicacy that may just be hypocrisy, the politeness, the discipline. But above all, we notice that in the absence of freedom, in the absence of madness, poetry struggles to take root, boredom looms, as does real madness. Bushido still exists, honor is there and must be preserved. But the youth drowns in electronics and in willingly sterile cults (otaku), unable to discern what’s essential, failing to believe in their dreams. You have to succeed? Young people commit suicide because of school bullying, the slightly older ones because of work-related difficulties or marital problems. Nothing exceptional, we might say—average*—but you’d expect better from a country so well-organized, a country that makes so many Westerners dream. Yes, night falls on Japan. Empire of noise, empire of the senses, a very strange land where you find clean toilets in subway corridors but where the very meaning of life seems stifled by the mirages of technology. Above all, a civilization deprived of a penance that would prove salutary. We’re caught between two waters. Those of a shallow modernity without depth or anchor; those of a past that was majestic but irreparably tainted by the demonic madness of an overly adored emperor.

How can one fully thrive when guilt has no outlet?

(* France and Japan share a common statistic of 17 suicides per 100,000 inhabitants, which, depending on density, means 30 per day in France and 70 in Japan...)

Hello, For flight schedules and prices from Bordeaux, and ease of reaching Alexandria by bus/train afterward, I’m considering spending 4 days around Hurghada (direct flight from Bdx).

I don’t think I’ll go for courses to get my Level 1, since I don’t plan to dive often in the future—unless you think it’s better than doing 2 discovery dives in this area (I only have one baptism under my belt, in Koh Tao 15 years ago—amazing! But I’m not targeting trips for diving; I need to go to Alexandria, so this is a chance to get back into diving and snorkeling).

I’m looking for a spot to do some snorkeling, 1 or 2 baptisms, and explore the surroundings. I’ll arrive in early March on the evening of Day 0. I’ll have 3.5 days after that (I’m planning to leave on Day 4 around 4 PM by bus/train).

Is Hurghada completely to be avoided in favor of another area in the Red Sea, or can I still have a nice 3.5 days there? I know places like Dahab are more pleasant, but the convenience and timing of Hurghada appeal to me... I usually prefer more authentic travel spots and places, but I’m willing to compromise on that if it’s still worth it for the diving. Or should I only stay 2.5 days and head to Alexandria a day earlier? (I’ve already seen Cairo and Luxor a bit.)

Open to your advice ;) Thanks in advance!

In 2026, traveling becomes a choice. While the same destinations are buckling under mass tourism, there are still preserved alternatives, often just a few hours away from the beaten path. This guide doesn’t ban any countries but suggests different practices and destinations that still breathe. Here are 8 experiences to reinvent for better travel this year.

1. Tanzania: Swap the jeep safari for a walking safari The classic: Setting off to see the "Big Five" and the vast savanna from a 4x4. Why rethink this: You don’t go to see wild animals just to end up in a traffic jam of Toyota Land Cruisers. The noise of engines and exhaust fumes stress the wildlife. Some observation points look like parking lots. The alternative: A walking safari in the Ngorongoro Highlands or the Serengeti, accompanied by Maasai guides. On foot, your senses sharpen: it’s an immersion that a car window blocks.

Practical tip: Opt for mobile bush camps rather than fixed lodges. Look into walking safaris that include bivouacs.

2. India: Skip Kerala’s houseboats for kayaking on secret lagoons The classic: Cruising the famous Backwaters in a houseboat. Why rethink this: Houseboats pollute and destroy the fragile ecosystem of the lagoons. Overcrowding in Alleppey drains the experience of its magic. Not to mention the noise of the engines. The alternative: Munroe Island or Valiyaparamba by canoe or kayak. These northern lagoons remain preserved. You can organize trips with local fishermen, spend a day with families from the area, and sleep in the heart of biodiversity instead of floating resorts.

Good to know: The famous Kettuvallams (houseboats) aren’t that old. Originally, they were rice transport barges. It was only in the 1990s that someone had the idea to add rooms. Authenticity is sometimes a marketing invention!

3. Portugal: Forget Lisbon and the Algarve for the Alentejo The classic: The charm of Lisbon’s azulejos and the golden beaches of the Algarve. Why rethink this: Lisbon is suffocating under Airbnbs, and the Algarve has become a forest of umbrellas and tourist complexes. The Portuguese soul is fading under mass tourism. The alternative: The Alentejo region, between Lisbon and the Algarve. Stay in a *Herdade* (traditional farm), taste amphora wine, and explore wild beaches where cliffs replace concrete. This is Portugal at a slower pace—the one with white villages and endless plains.

Good to know: The Alentejo is the world’s largest cork producer. Cork oaks are harvested only once every 9 years. It’s a region that sets its own rhythm, slow and respectful of nature.

4. Indonesia: Less Bali, more Sulawesi, Java, or Lombok The classic: Spirituality, rice terraces, and Bali’s beaches. Why rethink this: Between water shortages, "spiritual" traffic jams in Ubud, and beaches turned into clubs, Bali needs a break. The island is suffocating. The alternative: Sulawesi for the ancestral rites of the Toraja people, Java for the lunar volcanoes of the East and lost temples, or Lombok for a quieter version of Bali. You’ll rediscover Indonesia’s wild origins.

Good to know: Bali is the only predominantly Hindu island in the world’s largest Muslim country. Exploring Java or Sulawesi reveals a cultural diversity that Bali’s tourist bubble often overshadows.

5. South Korea: Shorten Seoul for Gyeongju and Suncheon Bay The classic: Futuristic modernity and K-Culture in Seoul. Why rethink this: Seoul is experiencing the "Kyoto effect." Historic neighborhoods like Bukchon are closing streets to protect residents’ privacy from the influx of tourists in rented hanboks. The alternative: Gyeongju and Suncheon Bay in the authentic south. Between Gyeongju’s millennia-old temples (the ancient capital) and Suncheon’s biosphere reserve, you’ll discover the real Korea—without the lines.

Good to know: Gyeongju is often called "the museum without walls." You’ll find tumuli (royal tombs shaped like grassy hills) right in the middle of the modern city. Ancient history coexists with the present.

6. Thailand: Escape Bangkok and the southern islands for Isan The classic: Bangkok, then off to Phuket, Phi Phi, or Koh Samui. Why rethink this: The southern islands are suffocating: marine pollution, crowded beaches, authenticity diluted in standardized resorts. The experience feels more like Ibiza than traditional Thailand. The alternative: The Northeast (Isan), the unknown region. Forgotten Khmer temples, authentic villages, colorful local markets, and preserved nature in parks like Phu Kradueng. Few Westerners, lots of authenticity.

Good to know: Isan makes up a third of Thailand but receives less than 5% of tourists. Yet it’s the birthplace of authentic Thai cuisine and preserved traditions. Prices are also two to three times lower.

7. Peru: Skip Machu Picchu for Kuelap and northern Peru The classic: Machu Picchu and the Sacred Valley. Why rethink this: Strict quotas, mandatory bookings months in advance, sky-high prices, and timed tourist flows. The experience has become administrative before it’s spiritual. The alternative: Northern Peru with Kuelap, the "Machu Picchu of the north" without the crowds. The Gocta Canyon, the Chachapoyas region, and lesser-known but equally fascinating pre-Inca cultures. The modern cable car makes access easy without the hordes.

Good to know: Kuelap is larger and older than Machu Picchu but receives 100 times fewer visitors. Its cyclopean walls reach 20 meters high, and the fortress remains shrouded in mystery.

8. Iceland: Ditch the Golden Circle for the northern fjords The classic: The Iceland tour via the Ring Road and the famous Golden Circle. Why rethink this: The Ring Road has become a single-file line of rental vans. Iconic sites (Golden Circle, Solheimasandur plane wreck, Reynisfjara Beach) are saturated, turning the quest for Icelandic solitude into a crowded parking lot experience. The alternative: The Tröllaskagi Peninsula and the northern fjords. Forget the clock to rediscover the Iceland of the sagas. This is the kingdom of mountains plunging into the sea, secret hot springs accessible only on foot, and fjords where silence reigns.

Good to know: In Iceland, you don’t "own" nature—you borrow it. Over 50% of Icelanders still believe in the existence of *Huldufólk* (the hidden people), elves who live in the rocks. To catch a glimpse of them, they say, you must leave the noise of Route 1’s engines and learn to listen to the silence of the fjords.

Hi everyone, We’re planning to return to Cambodia in July 2026, as a family, for the third time. Since we’ve already visited Siem Reap and Battambang, we’re not considering going back this time. Instead, we’d like to travel more slowly and take the time to settle in. We’re thinking of an itinerary around Mondulkiri, Kampot, and Koh Kong (Tatai waterfalls, mangroves, etc.). For those who know the Koh Kong province and Mondulkiri well: are these areas still accessible and enjoyable during the rainy season? We’d also like to spend 2 or 3 days on an island, but we’re not sure if it’s really feasible at this time of year (sea conditions, boat crossings…). If it’s doable, which one would you recommend? We’re planning to spend only a short time in Phnom Penh, then a few days with family near Koh Thom. If you have any other ideas, firsthand experiences, or suggestions for stops that work well for a trip in July, we’d love to hear them. Thanks in advance !

While planning a trip to the LOFOTEN for summer 2023 using the excellent guide *Hiking in the Lofoten*, we discovered this trek.

Sure, it’s rated as difficult, but it lets you cross the LOFOTEN on foot from north to south in 11 stages, covering 160 km and 9,193 m of elevation gain (or the reverse, of course).

So, it’s a multi-day hike, with wild camping, and no need to rent a car. Perfect...

What’s making us hesitate a bit are the island transfers (okay, I’ll admit, the difficulty is also a factor for me). These transfers require taking public transport and/or hitchhiking. But the stages are designed with this in mind, and the transfers are well explained. Plus, water isn’t an issue, and you can resupply several times, which helps keep the pack weight down.

For Jean Marie, my partner, this will be his first multi-day trek, but he’s an experienced and hardy hiker. As for me, even though I’m not as tough, I’ve already done some multi-day hikes. So, we should complement each other well.

So, are we going for it? Sold!!

Here’s the trek map: HERE

03/08 – Day 1 - Delp – Sandsletta 04/08 - Day 2 – Sandsletta – Svolvaer 05/08 - Day 3 – Svolvaer – Kleppstad + transfer to the start of Day 4 06/08 – Day 4 – Vikjorda hamlet – Store Lake 07/08 – Day 5 – Store Lake – Leknes - Transfer to Napp on Flakstadøya Island 08/08 – Day 6 – Napp – Nusfjord 09/08 – Day 7 – Nusfjord – Ramberg 10/08 – Day 8 – Ramberg – Selfjord Bay (Moskenesøya Island) 11/08 – Day 9 - Selfjord – Bunes Beach 12/08 – Day 10 - Bunes Beach - Krokvatnet Lake 13/08 – Day 11 - Krokvatnet Lake – Moskenes (campsite) and round trip to Å by bus 14/08 – Day 12 – Hike up Reinebringen – Reine – Tour of Agvatnet Lake 15/08 – Return to Bodø - flight back to France on 16/08 And here’s the inevitable recap

Hello, We (a couple aged 60 and 66) are arriving in Montreal on 09/21 to meet up with our son (on a working holiday). Our original plan was to spend the first 3 nights near Parc de la Mauricie, then 3 nights in Quebec City, and the following 3 near Parc des Hautes-Gorges-de-la-Malbaie. The 2 days we’d planned in each park were supposed to be for hiking (including the Acropole des Draveurs) and canoeing if possible. The issue is that I’ve recently developed frozen shoulder (capsulitis😕), and I likely won’t have recovered by the time we leave. So, we’re scrapping hikes with significant elevation gain, trekking poles, or any risk of falling. My question is: which hikes of 10–15 km max on easy terrain with beautiful views would you recommend? (We’ll be there in late September, hoping to catch the fall colors already!). For this type of hike, would it be better to swap Parc de la Mauricie for Réserve faunique des Laurentides, Parc de la Jacques-Cartier, or is Mauricie still okay? And should we replace Parc des Hautes-Gorges-de-la-Malbaie with Parc des Grands-Jardins? Are there spots easier than others for canoeing (I could get in the canoe with my son, but he’d be the only one paddling—I’m light, and he’s strong, but I don’t want to overdo it 😉). Or maybe pedal boats, if that’s still an option this season? Thanks for your advice after these unexpected changes of plans. Claire

Hi everyone!!

My wife and I are heading to Thailand in April 2025 with our two daughters, aged 4 and 7. I’d love to get your thoughts and some great tips on our itinerary (which isn’t set in stone at all!!). We’re planning to arrive in Phuket and head straight to Koh Lanta (4/5 nights). I’d love to visit another spot in the area, but nothing’s really grabbing us—so if you’ve got any ideas, we’re all ears! Next, we’re heading to Koh Phangan (the north) for about 4 nights. After that, we’ll head east to Ko Chang and Koh Kood, spending around 3 nights on each island. Then, Bangkok for 2 days and one night before flying back to France. We’ll have about 16-17 days there. Like most people, we’re looking for quiet spots, far from big resorts, with beaches, pools, and walks/activities for our young kids. From my research, the west has great beaches and views, while the east offers a bit more adventure and fewer crowds. Thanks in advance for your feedback!

Quentin, Dune, Juno, and Marley

Hello everyone,

A lot of articles and replies about southern Thailand are quite old...

I’m arriving at Trang Airport in mid-November. What’s the going rate for Pakmeng Pier and then for Koh Mook? Also, what’s the cheapest way to get from Koh Mook to Noppharat Thara (Ao Nang)? After that, I’ll be heading from Railay to Koh Yao Noi. Should I buy tickets from a local agency or at the pier?

Thanks also for your great tips! What are the must-see spots during 5 nights on Koh Mook, 3 around Ao Nang, and 3 on Koh Yao Noi? After that, I’m planning to visit Phuket City, Khao Lak, Surat Thani, Ao Khanom, maybe Koh Samui... and Bangkok for 4 nights. I’m retired and looking for places still off the beaten path, away from mass tourism... Thanks in advance, Jacques from Brussels

Alright, I'm diving into this Hawaiian travel journal! I hope lots of you will follow along because the destination is absolutely charming. 🙂 Just a heads-up—I might take a while to finish it.

The trip took place from February 20th to March 3rd, 2025 (11 days total, with 9 days on-site). It was a trip with my friend Christelle, with whom I’ve already traveled to Iceland and Morocco in recent years. We’re totally on the same wavelength, with the same expectations and desires, which makes things a lot easier (and, as a bonus, it helps cut down the final bill). Being the generous soul I am, I asked Christelle which country she wanted to visit. Her answer: Asia, since I’ve never been, or Namibia... Hawaii is basically the same thing, right?!! All thanks to the search comparator—I stumbled upon round-trip tickets from Paris to Honolulu for 580 € per person during school holidays, with a layover in Canada (I don’t get to choose my vacation dates). We jumped on it on August 28th (didn’t take much convincing). For info, I always check flight tickets during the last week of August or the first half of September because there are always amazing deals.

Nine days on-site is short, so we had to make some tough choices for the islands we’d visit (I’m only listing the main ones): - Oahu: the most urbanized but also home to Honolulu, Pearl Harbor, and some stunning beaches.

Kauai: the Garden Isle. It’s the island from *Jurassic Park*, with lush vegetation—so it’s pretty rainy. Big Island: volcanoes, volcanoes, and more, but also things like night snorkeling with manta rays. Maui: very touristy, with a magnificent volcano, the Road to Hana, and the ultimate spot for whale watching (and we were there right in the middle of whale season).

We limited ourselves to two islands to avoid rushing, and in the end, we picked Kauai (non-negotiable) and Oahu (which saved us an extra domestic flight and, since we were there in winter, let us experience the BIG WAVES on the North Shore). We would’ve loved to visit Big Island, but we’d already seen volcanoes in Iceland, and the island is huge—we just didn’t have enough time. Maui was recently hit by a major wildfire and is also the most expensive island (along with Kauai). We were really hoping to see humpback whales (my favorite animal) on both Oahu and Kauai. Hawaii is far, and it’s worth the effort. The journey went smoothly. I took a 40-minute bus ride and a 1h32 RER trip just to get to Roissy, then a 9h15 flight to Calgary, with a two-hour layover before a 6h45 flight to Honolulu. 11 hours of time difference, arriving at 10 PM local time. And you know what? (spoiler alert) I’d do it a thousand times if I got the chance.

Alright, let’s go—here we go!