Results for "Finlande+itinéraire"

bonjour,

j'ai 2 enfants un petit de 3 ans 1/2 et une grande de 15 ans

nous avons fait un premier voyage avec le petit en Aout dernier (il avait 3 ans) je ne regrette absolument ce voyage ni l'accueil particulier avec un enfant....mais il y a eu des moments difficile parceque notre petit garçon n'a pas un caractère très facile

nous avons bien l'intention de faire un voyage tout les ans et cette année nous avons l'intention de partir sans eux, pendant 1 mois et 1 semaine, il est difficilement tenable et ça me paraît la meilleur des solutions cependant j'ai peur de regretter son absence tout au long de mon voyage .....

Ma question est la suivante :

(si vous voyagez souvent et que vous avez des enfants), partez vous tjs avec vos enfants en voyage ??

Bonjour, je cherche par ceux qui l' ont vécu des infos pratiques en particulier sur la Syrie pour 1 voyage -Avril /Mai-en voiture depuis la region lyonnaise via l ' ex Yougoslavie, la Grece .l ' Est de la Turquie, la Syrie, puis continuation sur le Liban et -ou- Israel puis retour par la Turquie, Grece ...avec une partie en ferry depuis la Grece ou la Yougo sur l Italie, ou alors directement en ferry depuis Haifa(Israel ) sur Patras. En particulier : pbs aux frontieres (temps d attente, bakchiches..), possibilitees de campement en Syrie, "pieges" eventuels....etc .

Merci davance . Hans

😉Bonjour tous,

C'est Christophe Colomb qui a, le premier, appellé ce pays Costa Rica tellement il trouvait la côte riche...côte étant féminin autant en français qu, en espagnol alors pourquoi dit-on LE Costa rica plutôt que LA Costa rica ???

Je n, ai jamais entendu parler de LE COSTA BRAVA NI LE COSTA DEL SOL....!!!!

“Hey, your Marker... - My Marker? - The one you used to make hitchhiking signs.”

The marker in question is sitting proudly on the kitchen table. Marielle found it at the bottom of a moving box.

I’ve been meaning to tell the long story of my love affair with hitchhiking for years. Here we go.

To be honest, I’m not quite sure when it started. My earliest memory goes back to a fair with a bike race in my maternal grandparents’ village. I was with my cousin, my little sister, and three girl cousins. There were six of us, ages ranging from six or seven to thirteen or fourteen. Our parents stayed at the fair, and we’d had enough. So we decided to walk home. Only it was four kilometers away. So we hitchhiked. A guy driving an old car picked us all up and dropped us off at the farm. He probably found it amusing to see us thumbing a ride by the side of the road, but maybe it also worried him a bit. With everything you read in the papers...

Around fifteen or sixteen, I started hitchhiking regularly, alone or with a friend, to go to the nearby town. But it was especially when I started boarding school in Orléans that it became more regular. The first year, I’d leave Monday morning and come back Saturday noon by bus. It was an old, uncomfortable bus where we froze in winter. To make matters worse, I often got motion sickness if, as was too often the case, I ended up sitting in the back. In the spring, a high school friend suggested I hitchhike back. It meant a slight detour, but the advantage was taking only national roads.

So that’s how, from the end of tenth grade to twelfth grade, I’d thumb a ride every Saturday on the Pont de Bourgogne. Drivers were used to seeing young people hitchhiking, and it worked pretty well. Our biggest fear? Soldiers! At that time, military service was still mandatory, and on weekends, it wasn’t rare to see them competing with us. They’d keep their uniforms on to go home. That gave people confidence—with everything you read in the papers—and they’d rarely wait more than five minutes. We, with our long hair, were definitely less popular. From time to time, three big red-faced guys in a van coming back from a construction site would flip us off, yelling things like “go get a haircut, you bums!” Those were the good old days.

We still had a good laugh, though. Patrice, the friend I’d hitchhike back from school with on Saturdays, is a musician—I’d later discover he’s an excellent composer. A die-hard Beatles fan, he knows their repertoire by heart and spends his time singing at the top of his lungs while we thumb a ride. One Saturday late morning, we’d been waiting for a while at the exit of Châteauneuf-sur-Loire when a little lady came up to him and asked if he could please sing a little quieter: a baby was sleeping in the house. He put on the most sorry face: “Oh, sorry ma’am, we didn’t realize.” No sooner had the lady gone back inside than he started again. Luckily, a car stopped just then, sparing me the embarrassment of seeing the lady come back out.

Saturday was also the day when the cigarette pack was dangerously low. So before leaving, we’d go buy some “Parisiennes,” the “P4s” as we called them back then. They were slightly thinner cigarettes with a mix of tobacco scraps. Sometimes they tasted like light tobacco, sometimes like dark. Not great, but by the end of the week, our pocket money was gone. They were sold in small packs of four, hence the name P4. We’d only pay 20 centimes. On Saturdays, it was rare for the two of us to manage to scrape together 1.50 F to buy a whole pack of Gauloises...

The last twenty kilometers, I’d usually do alone, Patrice having reached his destination. From time to time, luck would smile on me: an acquaintance would just happen to pass by and stop. One January Saturday, at the exit of Gien, I ran into another guy from Argenton whom I knew a little. That day, the weather was nice, but the temperature was well below zero. It was around noon, and it was the off-peak hour. We were shivering, stamping our feet by the side of the road, when a Citroën “Tube” arrived: it was his father’s boss’s, a mason. They were both sitting in the front, but since they were obese, they had us climb onto the open back. Even though we huddled against the cab to shelter from the wind, the twenty kilometers felt very long, especially since we were only going sixty kilometers an hour. Our hands and cheeks were blue when we finally arrived.

The year I took my baccalaureate, a friend with a 2CV would take me Monday mornings with one or two others we’d pick up in nearby villages. We’d share the gas costs, but it was still cheaper than the bus. And in winter, the bus was my nightmare. You had to get up at five to catch it at six. Not enough sleep, and outside it was freezing or raining—or both. The 2CV was luxury. Plus, Philippe would pick me up at home. On the other hand, since I didn’t have class Saturday mornings—well, I did, but we only had PE the first two hours and nothing after—I’d skip class and slip out right after breakfast to thumb a ride at the Pont de Bourgogne.

Those three high school years were formative in this optional subject that was hitchhiking. Little by little, I learned the rules of the game. First, you shouldn’t walk along the road while thumbing. Cars go too fast and can’t stop easily. Accepting a ride that’s too short is also a no-go. The guy who offers to take you a little way but drops you off at some vague crossroads in the middle of nowhere? No thanks. You need to get dropped off in a town. If it’s a fairly big city, you often have to cross it from one end to the other, but it’s better. At the exit, you have to choose your spot well. Actually, you have to put yourself in the driver’s shoes: they need to see you early enough, not be going too fast, and be able to stop easily without risking an accident. So when leaving a city, it’s better not to go too far. It’s wiser to find a spot where cars go slowly and can stop easily. And preferably near a café. The café is for when you still have a few coins for a coffee and need to warm up. From time to time, you’d run into someone nice who’d make a detour to drop you off at a better spot to start again. Finally, if possible, avoid hitchhiking on Sundays. Cars are packed with whole families who, most of the time, aren’t going far. And then there’s the little worry of those people who rarely leave home: with everything you read in the papers...

During those high school years, it was only short trips, rarely exceeding a hundred kilometers. Later, I aimed bigger, and things were a bit different. In 1973-74, I crossed part of France for the first time on two or three occasions, coming back from the German border or returning to Bordeaux, where we lived briefly. Since there weren’t many highways back then, we took national roads. It was during these trips that I realized it was better to leave in the evening. As I said earlier, Sunday is to be avoided, but on weekdays, there’s another problem: if you leave in the morning, you only make short hops. First, it often takes longer to get going because drivers are people going to work nearby. Which brings us back to those who drop you off in a bad spot, far from everything. There, you have to know how to refuse. You thank the driver for stopping—oh, if only everyone could be like you—while explaining why you’d rather stay put. People don’t take offense, by the way. Those who pick up hitchhikers often hitchhiked themselves when they were in the military or before they had a car. In the late afternoon, you’d often run into salespeople or truckers, in other words, people who drive a lot. At that time, salespeople no longer had appointments and were more relaxed. They wanted to talk about something other than the merits of their products. On the radio, it was time for *Les Grosses Têtes*. You’d also quite often run into small business owners, professionals, or even hippies. The conversations were pleasant and often enriching. A little later in the evening, truckers would take over. They’d already driven a few hundred kilometers, and the depot or customs was still far away. So they’d gladly take a hitchhiker to stay awake at the wheel and chat. The radio with Max Ménier’s show *Les routiers sont sympas*, you’d eventually get tired of it. So a hitchhiker was a change. Others, who’d hit the road at midnight to be at their destination by morning, were nice and offered to let you lie down on the bunk while they drove. When you’d been hitchhiking since six in the evening, freezing in the wind between two vehicles, you weren’t unhappy to take a little nap.

Speaking of Max Ménier, he’d often make announcements for hitchhikers. One evening, I called him. It was getting late, and I still had quite a way to go. No luck: the show had ended for good the day before!

In short, it’s better not to rush, sleep in, and leave after lunch, or better yet, in the late afternoon. Obviously, I’m talking about when you have several hundred kilometers to cover. That’s when you have to play it pro.

First thing, especially at night, but it also applies in the middle of summer when the light is blinding: dress to be seen from far away. I’ll admit I have an advantage over most other hitchhikers: I’m small and don’t scare people. To balance that out, racist drivers often take me for an Arab and are less likely to pick me up, but overall, the balance tips in my favor. Back to the need to be seen: at night, I wear light-colored clothes. In headlights, you can see me from far away.

Second thing: travel light. Forget the big backpack with a frame. Drivers don’t always have room in the trunk or on the back seat, especially if it’s rained and the ground is wet. Plus, it forces them to get out of the car. If they’re nice enough to pick up a hitchhiker, you shouldn’t ask for too much either.

Third thing: bring a cardboard sign and a big marker—like the ones in the photo at the start of this post—to write the name of your destination. In the early 80s, I ran a tourist house in the Cher, but I lived in the Netherlands. In the off-season, it was only open on weekends. On Fridays, I’d leave Holland and return on Mondays. 1200 km round trip. On the way there, in Paris, I’d stand at Porte de la Chapelle. At that spot, the road is very wide, and drivers could stop easily. Obviously, on the sign, I didn’t write Eindhoven, which not everyone knows, and even less Amsterdam because of its seedy reputation. In that case, you’d expect to see a police car stop and two officers in kepis ask for your papers. So as a first destination, I’d write Compiègne. We were well out of Paris, and since it wasn’t too far, a trucker or salesperson was less reluctant to stop. Once past Compiègne, I’d take out my Lille sign. Once in Belgium, it wasn’t really necessary to use a sign anymore, since everyone was going in the same direction. Usually, the guy who picked me up at Porte de la Chapelle would say he wasn’t going far but could take me a little way. Before that, I’d still ask if there was a gas station on the highway where he could drop me off before exiting. While talking, the guy would realize he wasn’t dealing with a dangerous criminal. He’d pretend to check his watch, think for a moment, then say that actually, he was going to Belgium and could take me to the border or a little beyond. To leave Paris on the way back, I’d take the train to Melun, where it was easier to hitchhike than at Porte d’Italie.

Over all those years, I think I was pretty lucky. Or maybe philosophical enough not to imagine a car would stop after a few minutes. An hour’s wait was average. Sure, I sometimes waited three, four, or five hours. Most often at odd hours and in terrible weather. When it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. But there’s always a moment when things pick up. Sure, when you’re soaked in freezing rain in the early morning after a sleepless night, you’re less philosophical than when I’m writing these lines comfortably at my computer, but it still holds true.

Earlier, I mentioned clothing and the importance of being well-rested before leaving. When you’ve eaten well and just gotten out of the shower, shaved, you’re in a better mood. And somehow, drivers sense it. Or at least, that’s the impression I’ve always had. It’s better to look in shape than disgusted at standing there, half-heartedly thumbing a ride. In short, when I’d start to get fed up with waiting, I’d go into the first café I saw for a coffee. Coming back out, I’d be refreshed, and most of the time, a car would stop within minutes. I’ve often said that when I stood by the side of the road thumbing a ride, I felt a bit like a gambler in front of a slot machine. It was a matter of giving luck a chance. And well, it worked out pretty well.

Then, there are countries where hitchhiking works really well and others where it’s harder. In the 70s-80s, it worked best in Germany and England. In the late afternoon, it wasn’t rare to be invited for tea. Well, that was in England. Tea meant being offered room and board. In Germany, they’d offer you coffee. Once there, they’d first show you the guest room and point out the bathroom before sitting you down in front of a big plate of cold cuts. In the evening, they’d go out in town, and the next morning, they’d usually drop you off at a good spot for hitchhiking. On the other hand, in Mediterranean and Scandinavian countries, you’d better be patient. In Spain or Italy, it’s better to take the train, which was dirt cheap back then. However, if you’re a couple traveling light, it’s already easier in most countries.

In 1982, I went on a trip around Turkey with my girlfriend. We only had two small bags, which was plenty. It was November-December, and we wore our warm, bulky clothes. Leaving Eindhoven at nine in the morning, we arrived in Graz, near the Yugoslav border, at eleven at night. 1300 km in a day! In just four or five vehicles. One to the German border, about fifty kilometers from Eindhoven, the second to Hagen in the Ruhr, the third to Salzburg, and the last to Graz at the Yugoslav border. Record broken. During the night crossing of Yugoslavia, we ran into a trucker close to retirement who lent us the truck’s bunk. So we arrived fresh and rested near Skopje the next morning. We continued to Thessaloniki in northern Greece before taking the train to Istanbul. In Turkey, we traveled a good part of the country by hitchhiking too. With truckers in old, overloaded, slow trucks that climbed hills at fifteen kilometers an hour, but also in cars where five or six people were already crammed in. And every time, we were invited for tea. Once, we were even picked up by a big shot in his Mercedes with a chauffeur. Until then, the average speed was around fifty kilometers an hour. There, we were going two hundred. On a national road, not a nice European highway.

I’ve also hitchhiked in Nepal, from Lumbini, Buddha’s birthplace, to a village on the way to Pokhara. It must have been midday. No bus until the next day. I gave it a try. A small truck overloaded with rice sacks, with two or three young people already perched on top, stopped. I rode on the roof of the cab. At fifty kilometers an hour when it was going well, with a breathtaking view. Coming back from India, I also crossed part of Iran by hitchhiking, from Tehran to the Turkish border. I did this trip with an Austrian I met at the hotel who, like me, had to watch his pennies. We gave it a shot. There was almost no traffic, but to our great surprise, the first car that passed in the area would always stop. They’d just ask for a modest contribution for gas, and it cost next to nothing.

Sometimes, you get scared too. After leaving Turkey in early December 82, we spent about two weeks in the southern Peloponnese harvesting olives. A few days before Christmas, we hitchhiked back to Holland. A girl picked us up in her little Fiat 500. We were driving on a mountain road, and that morning there was a bit of black ice. After crossing a pass, we saw the old Ford Taunus ahead of us at fifty meters start to skid. The driver let out a “heeee!” while grabbing my knees. I reflexively grabbed the wheel. Finally, the Taunus got back on track. And we didn’t swerve. But those few seconds felt very long.

In January 77, while I’d been living in Germany for a few months, I decided to spend a few days in Italy. By hitchhiking, of course. I left in the early afternoon, and by ten at night, I wasn’t far from Frankfurt. I saw a big Mercedes stop. The four or five young people crammed inside were listening to Schlager at full volume. Beer cans littered the floor. They didn’t have a precise destination, and as long as they were going south, that was fine with me. They’d finished their military service that very day and had clearly already celebrated their discharge. The driver was going 160, zigzagging dangerously from one side of the highway to the other. I should have realized he wasn’t entirely sober either. Luckily, there was almost no traffic. Finally, I managed to get dropped off at a gas station just before Frankfurt, relieved. I hope their trip didn’t end tragically.

Another time, coming back from Holland with my wife, we were picked up early in the morning near Senlis by two guys from Lille. They were going to work near Tours and could drop us off at Porte d’Italie. Apparently, they were coworkers but barely knew each other. The driver offered us a beer—at six in the morning, sure!—before opening another can for himself. He was clearly having trouble staying in the right lane. We politely declined, the passenger too. Everyone was tense. Luckily, it was rush hour on the ring road, and we were going slowly. When we got out of the car, the passenger said goodbye with the look of a guy being offered the condemned man’s rum and cigarette.

Finally, there are the annoying remarks from drivers who are either gay when you’re alone or turned on by the sight of your girlfriend when you’re a couple. In those cases, I’d get in the back so the guy wouldn’t feel too confident. And if the conversation got a little too suggestive, we’d deflect until we got dropped off.

And luckily, there are the times, not so rare after all, when you run into really nice people who invite you to eat and sleep at their place and drive you to a good spot the next morning. In Germany and England, that was common. And then there are the big strokes of luck, like during our trip to Turkey when we crossed most of Germany in one car, or that other time when some Germans drove me from the exit of Geneva all the way to the Costa Brava.

Going back to “with everything you read in the papers” and its variant “with everything you see on TV”—and now on the internet—it’s always left me perplexed. Personally, I’ve never heard of hitchhikers assaulting drivers, even if it may have happened. On the other hand, what was most common were hitchhikers being assaulted, especially girls. Anyway, even armed, it seems a bit stupid to assault the driver—wouldn’t that risk causing an accident?

Finally, since that time, I’ve occasionally wanted to hitchhike somewhere far away in France. Most often, too busy with work, it never happened, but the nostalgia hasn’t completely disappeared.

* * *

Other Hitchhikers

And then one day, I... settled down to become a driver myself. Ten years had passed, and you saw fewer and fewer hitchhikers. Or maybe I saw fewer because I had a regular job and wasn’t traveling the same way. And then I understood a few things.

Several times, I was tempted to pick up a hitchhiker, but they didn’t meet the required conditions. They were walking along the road instead of staying at the exit of the previous town. Hard to stop without risking an accident. Or the guy looked really scruffy. Or he was sulking, if not both. Then you think of that famous “with everything you read in the papers.” Not that I was scared, but unfortunately, the few hitchhikers I did pick up later were rarely interesting.

A few years ago, we picked up a young guy at the exit of a small town in Sologne. Not an easy spot for hitchhiking. Bad luck, he was a pretentious little jerk. He was barely 20 or 25 and talked like a bitter old man. He was a waiter in a restaurant. According to him, it was lucky he was there, otherwise the boss would have closed up shop long ago. You’d think he had thirty or forty years of professional experience behind him. As we approached Blois, he started ranting about Arabs, blaming them for all evils. And he laid it on thick. That morning, we were going to a teenager’s funeral who had just committed suicide, so he really got on our nerves, Mr. Know-It-All. Out of anger, I dropped him off next to a shopping center a few kilometers from downtown. Not nice, but it felt good.

Some time ago, we were driving around the Limousin on a Sunday to try out the used Twingo we’d just bought. We picked up a guy in his forties. A German who spoke French well. He started talking about the environment. He was a green Khmer. He got worked up all by himself with his pseudo-eco rant and, after a few kilometers, was almost yelling at us. As we were about to leave the main road for a small one, I dropped him off at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere. Normally, I would have made a little detour to take him to a better spot, but this time, I didn’t feel like doing the... eco-warrior a favor.

On the other hand, I’ve still done my good deed a few times. One June morning, coming back from Orléans, I saw a man in his sixties hitchhiking. The poor guy had had a rough time. He was from Montpellier and was coming back from Caen, where he’d been promised a job. Once there, they bluntly told him the position was already taken, and he had to go back. Except he didn’t have enough money left for the train. He’d spent the night hitchhiking without success. I could only take him as far as Lamotte-Beuvron, where I dropped him off near the fire station. Apparently, there was some vague shelter there or something, but it only opened a few hours later. In the meantime, he settled on the grass in a corner to sleep a little. While he was doing that, I quickly went to the train station to check the price of a ticket to Montpellier. It was within my means. Since he was sound asleep, I slipped the train ticket and 100 francs into his pocket. I couldn’t imagine him continuing to hitchhike all the way to Montpellier. And I bet he didn’t even have a piece of cardboard and a marker!

When we go to Brazil, we usually rent a small car. One day, we were coming back from Paracuru to Fortaleza when we saw a whole family hitchhiking. Two adults and two or three small children. Here near the equator, the sun sets very quickly, and it would soon be night. There was little traffic, and trucks wouldn’t stop because there was no room in the cab. As for the rich people driving big 4x4s, they wouldn’t stoop to picking up the lower classes. The only hope for this kind of family was usually a farmer or artisan who’d let them ride in the back of his pickup. Obviously, they were a bit surprised to see us. Everyone crammed in as best they could in the back of our little car. When we dropped them off, we got a whole string of “Deus lhes abençõe”—God bless you.

Still in Brazil, we were on the road from Barreirinhas to São Luís do Maranhão. About 150 km of deserted road with an isolated mud house here and there. A young woman flagged us down. She was very pregnant and had to get to the clinic twenty or thirty kilometers away to give birth. Someone was supposed to drive her, but the first signs of labor started earlier than expected, and the driver was unavailable. Even driving fast, we weren’t feeling great: it would be just our luck if she gave birth in the car!

Today, we’re in the age of smartphones and carpooling apps. Safety. With everything you see on TV... Three or four years ago, we signed up on a platform. Our first, and only, “client” was a little jerk who didn’t say a word the whole trip. No hello, no goodbye, and certainly no thank you. The next day, we found his Ray-Bans in the car. We didn’t run after him to give them back. Ha!

Hi everyone,

Starting tomorrow (the first day of the month), the April contest kicks off with the theme "Fish."

Important note: There was a contest in January 2020 on the theme "Fishing," where we hardly saw any fish. So this time, it should not be about fishing but mainly about fish. Live fish (1), dead fish (2), fish used in various artistic (3), commercial (4), or other illustrations (5).

Practical details:

Participation: Each VF member can submit up to 3 photos, until Saturday, April 26 at 11:59 PM Brussels time. Each photo should be posted in a separate message, with its number (1, 2, or 3). Don’t forget to add a little explanation (comment, location, etc.).

Voting: Each VF member can vote for the 3 photos they think are the best, based on their own criteria and the theme.

Voting will take place from Sunday, April 27 to Wednesday, April 30 at 11:59 PM Brussels time.

The selected photos will be ranked in order of preference: - 1st photo: 3 points - 2nd: 2 points - 3rd: 1 point

The winner is the photographer whose photo receives the most points.

Results will be published on May 1. In case of a tie, the number of first-place votes will decide. The winner will have the honor of organizing the May 2025 contest.

Photos that have already been nominated (1st, 2nd, or 3rd place) in another contest are not eligible for this one.

This thread is exclusively for photos submitted to the contest. All discussions, comments, and chit-chat should be posted in the thread: Discussion on the April 2025 contest theme "Fish"

(1) Japanese fish (not yet turned into sushi 😛)



(2) Fish considered small fry and left on an Indonesian beach



(3) Street art in Bristol (England)



(4) Sign in Bristol (England)



(5) Hikiyama Exhibition Hall in Karatsu (Kyushu, Japan)



Good luck! 😛

PS: Whales, sperm whales, porpoises, and dolphins are welcome—let’s be inclusive! 😎

Hey everyone who survived that killer rum that was supposed to take us all out... I took a trip to Russia in August 2024—16 unforgettable days. Entered via KARSAVA, Ostrov, then Saint Petersburg, Moscow, Voronezh, Ostrov on the Don, and exited at VLADIKAVKAZ through Georgia, Turkey, etc... I’d love to know if anyone’s done the reverse route—entering via Vladikavkaz from Georgia by personal vehicle, car, or motorcycle—and how long the wait was to cross the border. At the Karsava crossing in Latvia last August, it took between 2 and 3 days. The holdup is on the Russian side due to lack of staff and equipment since the formalities are so complicated... I’m looking for a smoother crossing point for 2025. Thanks for any tips!

Bonjour Nous avons séjourné 15 jours en circuit organisé en iran. Pouvons nous aller dans l'ouest américain, las Vegas et sa région. Merci

Bonjour, nous avons prévus d'aller aux USA du coté des grands parcs (Yellowstone, Grand téton et Mont Rushmore) pour un départ le 3 juillet à destination de Denver (via Montréal par Air canada affrété par Brussels airlines) et un retour le 22 juillet (idem par air canada-brussels airlines). Nous avons acheté nos billets sur gotogate et nous ne savons pas si nous allons pouvoir partir ou pas, nous n'avons aucune informations quand aux fermetures des frontières qui évoluent de jours en jours ! Sur le site de gotogate nous n'avons pas beaucoup d'infos et sur brussel airlines comme nous n'avons pas acheté directement chez eux, ils nous disent qu'il faut se tourner vers le prestataire qui nous a vendu les billets à savoir Gotogate, j'ai lu que plusieurs personnes essayaient déséspérement d'avoir un avoir ou un remboursement en vain ! Que devons-nous faire ? vers qui se retourner ? Faut-il encore attendre le 15 juin, car le gouvernement ne sais pas encore s'il vont réouvrir les frontières jusqu'à cette date. Nous sommes perdus nous aimerions reporter notre voyage d'un an si possible. Nous espérons récupérer l'argent mis dans les billets (plus de 2200 euros). Merci par avance de votre aide ! poutsouch60

Bonjour Où se trouve cette serre ? En premier chercher le pays et ensuite la ville Françoise

Hello,

C'est un peu la question qu'on se pose et qui nous oblige à revoir nos plans, pour l'instant c'est très flou, visiblement ce ne serait pas avant Septembre voir même pas envisageable cette année, mais si vous avez des infos de ce côté là n'hésitez pas à les partager.

Gilles

Je vous donne mon avis sincère de voyageur sur le Vietnam sachant que j'ai voyagé là-bas en février et que je ne suis pas allé au nord de Hanoï ni au sud de Nha Trang.

Pour juger un voyage, j'ai l'habitude de séparer l'aspect pratique d'un côté et l'intérêt des sites de l'autre.

Du côté « pratique », le Vietnam obtient un 19/20. Je n'entre pas dans le détail mais il est incroyablement facile et bon marché de voyager dans ce pays. Et avec des standards occidentaux voire meilleurs. Enormément de moyens de transport, hôtels d'excellente qualité et vraiment pas chers...

Entre l'aspect pratique et l'intérêt des sites, je mets la cuisine et le climat. Je ne vais pas écrire des lignes sur la cuisine qui fait tout simplement partie des tops mondiaux. Juste 2 bémols : les prix sont très élevés dans les restaus raffinés par rapport aux prix du pays. Et contrairement à la Chine, on peut tomber sur des restaus où on se moque des touristes. Résultat : un repas perdu alors que chaque repas peut se transformer en souvenir de rêve au Vietnam. Donc attention. Les guides touristiques écrits sont ici très utiles.

On est averti qu'au Vietnam le temps peu être gris. Et selon les sources, on peut reprendre espoir et se dire que finalement cette saison n'a pas l'air si mal. Pour ma part, je n'ai peut-être pas eu de chance mais alors j'en ai eu beaucoup dans les nombreux autres pays où je suis allé. Le ciel est souvent gris. Au nord, ça peut même être une attraction pour curieux de voir cette grisaille prête à vous tomber sur la tête. D'autre part, j'ai rarement vu une telle fraîcheur à une telle lattitude.

Les gens sont très sympas. Certains parlent anglais et il est très intéressant d'échanger avec les vietnamiens mais il faut savoir qu'ils ont un caractère trempé dans l'acier...

Les sites sont d'un intérêt limité. Le pays est surpeuplé et avide de développement. L'aspect traditionnel et religieux est quasi absent notamment par rapport à la Thaïlande. La nature est très très abîmée. Quand vous lisez les guides, vous vous dîtes que vous allez vous régaler à explorer les côtes ou qu'il y a des animaux à voir. C'est le problèmes des guides écrits qui ne comparent pas les pays entre eux. Ils vont utiliser les même adjectifs pour un pays moyen et pour les plus beaux pays. Oui, il y a des pays beaucoup mieux que d'autres ! En fait les côtes vietnamiennes ne sont pas terribles. Selon un guide les îles Cham sont un « époustouflant archipel ». Peut-être que si le Vietnam était le seul pays sur terre ce serait vrai mais il n'en est rien et il y a beaucoup mieux ailleurs. Les grottes de Phong Nha ouvertes au grand public sont d'un intérêt très limité et les autres sont vraiment très très chères d'accès et nécessitent souvent des réservations.

Mon but n'est pas de dénigrer le Vietnam mais d'éclairer les voyageurs car les guides ne le font pas. Je pense que le Vietnam est un pays idéal pour un retraité ou pour vivre quelques mois. Par contre si vous souhaitez découvrir ce qu'il y a de mieux en Asie du sud-est et que vous n'avez que quelques semaines par an, ne commencez pas par le Vietnam.

Depuis quelque temps avec ma femme, nous caressions le projet de retourner voir des aurores boréales. Nous en avions déjà vu lors de nos deux derniers voyages hivernaux en Islande mais l‘envie d’en revoir nous poussait à repartir. Nous aurions voulu partir en hiver mais cela nous aurait obligés à coucher à l’hôtel, ce qui aurait lourdement grevé notre budget. La période favorable pour voir des aurores boréales en Scandinavie s’étalant de septembre à mars, nous décidons de partir en septembre car cela nous permettra de coucher dans le lit aménagé à l’arrière de notre Land Rover Defender.

Samedi 15 septembre 2019

Le plein est fait. Le Land est bourré de provisions (cela fera autant de moins à acheter sur place) . Direction la Norvège. Départ vers 15h. Ce soir, nous ferons une étape dans le Nord pour passer voir notre fille. 100 km après notre départ de la région parisienne, le moteur du Land se met soudainement en mode dégradé. Nous plafonnons à 80 km/h. L’idée que notre voyage s’arrête là nous effleure l’esprit. On s’arrête sur le bas-côté pendant 10 mn et ouf, le moteur se remet à fonctionner normalement. On repart comme si de rien n’était. Nous n’empruntons pas les autoroutes payantes car nous ne sommes pas pressés. Arrivée dans le Nord vers 19h.

Dimanche 15 septembre 2019

Après une bonne nuit, nous partons en fin de matinée et traversons la Belgique via Charleroi et Liège. Puis nous passons en Allemagne via Aix-la-Chapelle, Duisbourg, Munster, Brême et Hambourg. Nous dormons sur une aire d’autoroute au nord d’Hambourg. Nous avons parcouru 1.000 km depuis Paris.

Lundi 16 septembre 2019

Prix du gazole sur l’autoroute allemande : 1,32 €/l Sur l’autoroute, le Land fait encore des siennes. Le moteur se remet en mode dégradé. On applique la même méthode que précédemment, à savoir, arrêt de 10 mn et ça repart normalement. Il ne faudrait pas que cela se reproduise trop souvent.

Nous franchissons la frontière danoise et arrivons au port d’Hirshals au nord du Danemark en début d’après-midi. Le vent d’ouest souffle en tempête. Cela promet pour la traversée vers la Norvège. Prix du gazole : 11,49 DNK (1,52 €) N’ayant pas réservé la traversée, nous nous rendons au bureau de Fjord Line. Prix annoncés : 205 € pour le jour même et 405 € pour le lendemain !

Nous cherchons un passage meilleur marché sur internet et réservons un billet pour Kristiansand chez Colour Line à 145 € pour le lendemain à 12h15.

Nous allons au camping d’Hirtshals en bordure de mer. La mer est démontée et il y a des wind surfers et des kite surfers qui en profitent. Particularité de cette plage, les autos peuvent y rouler.

Prix du camping 173 DNK (23 €). Bien équipé avec cuisine comprenant four, micro ondes et feux à gaz douche chaude payante avec carte. Emplacements sur pelouse délimités par des haies qui protègent du vent. Ce camping ferme fin septembre.

Mardi 17 septembre 2019

Nous embarquons sur le bateau de Colour Line à 12h15 . Heureusement, le vent s'est calmé. Nous débarquons au sud de la Norvège à Kristiansand à 15h30. Il fait un temps magnifique. Nous allons au centre ville pour retirer de l’argent au distributeur (pas beaucoup de distributeurs de billets en ville, il faut un peu chercher).



Nous prenons la direction de Lindesnes au sud-ouest de Kristiansand. Nous dormons sur le parking du phare de Lindesnes où le camping est autorisé moyennant 100 NOK (10 €). Cet endroit est le point le plus au sud de la Norvège. Beau temps mais très venté. Nous avons parcouru 1600 km depuis notre départ.







Mercredi 18 septembre 2019

Ce matin, nous suivons la côte sud en passant par Flekkefjord, Egersund jusqu’à Sandnes. Nous empruntons notre premier ferry à Lauvik pour franchir le Hosfjorden. Prix : 119 NOK















Nous sommes surpris par le grand nombre de véhicules électriques qui circulent en Norvège dont un bon nombre de Tesla. Il y a des bornes de recharge un peu partout, dans les stations service bien sûr mais aussi devant des hôtels, sur des parkings municipaux. La Norvège a une avance phénoménale dans ce domaine sur notre pays.

Il y a également un certain nombre de routes à péage qui ne sont pas des autoroutes notamment à l’approche des villes. Ce péage se fait en passant sous un portique automatique. Pour les véhicules étrangers, il paraît que nous recevons la facture à domicile mais au moment où je rédige ce carnet soit 6 mois après notre voyage, toujours pas de nouvelles.

Nous nous rendons sur le parking du Prekestolen où le prix de 250 NOK nous dissuade de nous arrêter. Nous y sommes déjà allés une trentaine d’années en arrière et nous n’avons pas de regret de ne pas y retourner . Nous cherchons un endroit pour bivouaquer mais dans cette zone très touristique, impossible de trouver un endroit .Nous poursuivons sur la route 13 vers le nord et nous arrêtons au camping de Vatne prix : 20 €. Comme toujours, camping super équipé avec cuisine et douche chauffées. Aujourd’hui étape de 290 km.

Voici le lieu idéal et recommandé pour parler de photo, de pêche, de photos de pêche !

🙂

Visiblement, les autorités britanniques auraient dans l'idée de mettre en place un système d'Esta identique à celui existant pour les USA pour tous les voyageurs actuellement dispensés de visa (y compris donc les ressortissants de l'U.E.) souhaitant se rendre dans le pays une fois le Brexit effectif (s'il le devient un jour...). Lire la suite...

C'est ici que l'on discute dans la bonne humeur et le respect de l'autre du concours du mois de novembre.😏 C'est aussi ici que l'on partage des photos en "OFF du concours" avant d'avoir trouver "la" bonne photo pour le concours. Retour au concours de novembre: voyageforum.com/...5795;live=1;#9805795

Bonjour, mon conjoint et moi passerons 3 semaines en Croatie en septembre et début octobre prochain. Je lis sur plusieurs sites et blogues qu'il faut "impérativement" s'enregistrer auprès de la police locale lorsqu'on arrive en Croatie et même dans chaque nouveau lieu et ce dans les 24 à 48 heures après notre arrivée. Quelqu'un peut m'expliquer cette règle administrative... est-ce que cela doit être fait chaque fois que l'on change de lieu d'hébergement? Comment fait-on cela? Quel est le but de cette procédure? Pas facile quand on change de place presque chaque jour. Nous avons fait toutes nos réservations sur Booking, donc probablement des hébergements connus des autorités. Est-ce eux qui font cet enregistrement? Merci à la personne qui saura éclairer a lanterne.

Bonjour à tous,

Je voudrais témoigner de mon expérience, et, qui sait, avoir un conseil pour réagir. Nous venons de rentrer d'un séjour aux USA (dans l'est cette fois) et nous venons de recevoir un mail d'AVIS: "Your itemized Avis e-Toll receipt", indiquant une facture de 22.7$ à payer. Ce n'est en soi pas une somme énorme, mais je ne suis pas d'accord avec ce qu'ils m'envoient et je voudrais réagir.

Nous avons donc loué, comme depuis des années, une voiture chez AVIS. J'avais bien lu qu'il y avait de nombreux endroits avec des péages dans les régions que nous avons visitées, et donc nous nous sommes informés sur l'utilisation du "e pass" de la voiture. On nous a donné un papier expliquant que dès que nous activerions le "e pass", même pour une seule utilisation, le "fee" de location serait compté pour la durée totale de la location.

Nous avons donc décidé de ne pas l'utiliser, sauf en cas d'extrême nécessité, c'est-à-dire l'arrivée à un endroit où le péage ne pourrait pas être effectué avec de la monnaie. J'ai programmé mon GPS pour éviter les routes à péage au maximum, ce qui a été possible presque tout le temps. Les seules fois où nous avons emprunté des routes à péage, nous avons payé en monnaie.

Donc, cette nouvelle facture m'énerve, parce que je pense qu'il y a une erreur

Il est indiqué:

Tolling Summary

Toll Date Time: 08/04/2019 9:09:51 AM

Ce que je conteste est la date indiquée: le 4 août à 9h9 de matin, nous étions toujours dans notre Bed And Breakfast. L'un de vous sait-il si la date indiquée est bien la date à laquelle nous serions passés à ce péage?

Les autres renseignements indiqués sont:

Transportation agent : 495 Express Lanes

Exite Plaza : SPR-Interstate 395-95-495

J'essaie de voir où est cet endroit, et ce serait autour de Washington DC, mais est-ce correct?

Et donc la facture reprend la valeur du péage et bien sûr la location par jour

eToll Convenience Fee : $19.75

$3.95 per rental day, max $19.75 per rental month

Sur la facture, il est indiqué qu'en cas de contestation, il faut appeler un numéro, bien sûr aux USA. IL est évident que pour 20$ je ne vais pas passer mon temps et mon énergie à appeler, cela me coûtera sans doute moins cher de payer.

J'ai un peu regardé sur le Net et trouvé d'autres personnes qui ont eu le même genre de problème (une facture pour des toll non payés), mais je n'ai pas trouvé de témoignage de contestation de l'endroit du péage. Si nous avons effectivement été sur une des Express Lanes, sans nous en rendre compte, alors, OK, nous sommes en faute et nous devons payer, mais la date et le lieu indiqués ne correspondent pas à l'endroit où nous étions… ou alors j'ai mal compris quelque chose. Quelqu'un a-t-il une suggestion?

Merci d'avoir lu jusqu'au bout. Peut-être que cela évitera à d'autres d'avoir ce problème.

Françoise.

PS: J'ai failli ajouter ceci à une ancienne discussion concernant les péages en Floride. Nous avons terminé notre séjour en Floride et nous y allons régulièrement depuis des années. Nous n'avons jamais utilisé le sun pass, et je continue à utiliser un GPS (Here We Go sur mon smartphone) en lui demandant d'éviter les péages. Jusqu'ici, ça a fonctionné...

Bonjour tout le monde,

Voilà nous sommes revenus de nos magnifiques vacances en Suède (avec quelques jours en Norvège). Je tenais à vous faire un petit retour d'expérience, tout d'abord pour remercier ceux qui m'ont aidé à préparer ce voyage mais aussi pour donner envie (je l'espère) aux autres de découvrir ce pays fantastique.

Pour commencer, un retour sur la compagnie Norwegian Airlines à propos de laquelle j'avais déclenché, sans le vouloir, un post houleux 😇 Nous avons décollé avec 1h15 de retard de CDG, l'avion dans la précipitation je suppose, n'avais pas été nettoyé, dommage car c'est un avion récent et assez confortable. Notre pilote a été un peu rude à l'atterrissage par top pour le baptême de l'air de nos jeunes enfants, mais dans l'ensemble, pour le prix, nous sommes satisfaits.

Que dire des Suédois, alors là ça a été une agréable surprise! Je n'arrêtais pas de lire que les Suédois étaient froids, distants voire glacials, je m'insurge 😏, nous ne sommes tombés que sur des gens charmants, toujours prêts à nous rendre service, je parle évidemment des lieux touristiques mais pas que, dans les supermarchés où nous avions du mal à nous y retrouver, les gens nous sont venus en aide spontanément, et même quand nous sommes montés dans le nord, au milieu de la forêt, tous les gens nous disaient bonjour ou nous faisaient des signes de la main. Franchement, je vais contrasté dans la négative avec les Norvégiens, que nous avons eux trouvé froids, distants et même pire désagréables et agressifs.

En ce qui concerne la conduite, mon dieu, là c'est la douche froide, alors en Suède comme en Norvège les limitations c'est une cata, il faut constamment avoir l'oeil sur son compteur, notamment en Norvège où on a vu des 60km/h sur des 4 voies! Le comble, eux, les locaux roulent comme des tarés et ne connaissent pas ce petit truc orange qui sert à avertir quand on tourne. J'ai été surprise car on m'avait dit que les Scandinaves conduisaient bien, que nenni 🤪

Les routes sont vraiment bien entretenues, nous avons même fait plusieurs fois de la piste, et même les pistes sont bien entretenues et on peut y rouler sans problème à 80.

Difficile de visiter Stockholm en août, notamment le Gamla Stan, noir de monde et les axes principaux sont envahis de boutiques de m.... avec des souvenirs made in China. En revanche, nous avons adoré le Skansen, plus familial que touristique et vraiment vraiment bien pour les enfants comme pour les parents, un voyage à travers la vie des populations et des animaux de la Suède.

Nous avons adoré les complexes funéraires d'Anundshög en Suède (avec panneaux explicatifs en français s'il vous plait) et de Istrehagan en Norvège.

Concernant la nourriture en effet, c'est cher, mais grâce à des pique-nique le midi nous n'avons pas explosé le budget repas. On trouve des dizaine de sortes de pain pour faire de bons sandwichs, notre fil rouge aura été le pain polaire, facile à conserver et à garnir.

Concernant le budget route, là c'est l'assommoir! L'essence est plus chère qu'en France, pour commencer, et si la Suède possède un réseau autoroutier gratuit, ce n'est pas le cas de la Norvège, nous savions que rouler autour d'Oslo était payant, mais nous ignorions qu'il fallait également payer l'entrer dans les autres villes!! A coup de flash de plaque à tout va, tous les 500m vous raquez! Le comble aura été pour la navette de l'aéroport d'Oslo, qui nous aura coûté accrochez-vous bien 28€ pour aller à notre hôtel situé à 5 minutes de l'aérogare 🏴‍☠️

Nous avons séjourné deux fois en cabane, c'est vraiment un style de vie que nous avons adoré! Il y a des cabanes en bois partout là-bas, chaque bord de lac est truffé de petites bicoques qui se fondent parfaitement dans le paysage, c'est vraiment une image que nous garderons en mémoire, cela nous aura même donné l'envie d'un jour, pourquoi pas, acheter notre propre cabane là-bas 😉

J'avais posé la question des élans et des rennes, si nous n'en avons pas croisé dans la nature, nous aurons eu la chance de voir des rennes au Skansen et de toucher et nourrir les élans au Moose Park, les enfants ont adoré! C'est un petit parc familial, James le guide, fils de la famille est passionné par ses animaux, il en parle avec beaucoup d'amour. Ils possèdent une famille de 2 mâles, 3 femelles et 1 bambin, tous adorent les touristes car ils leur donnent des feuilles délicieuses à manger, ils se laissent facilement approcher et caresser, une expérience que je conseille. En revanche ça se mérite, il faut prendre la piste pour s'y rendre.

Je pense que j'ai oublié beaucoup de choses, je suis entrain d'écrire notre périple sur mon blog si le coeur vous en dit, vous pouvez nous suivre.

En attendant, voici quelques photos choisies.

Hi everyone,

Well, the time to head back has come, so it’s time to share the 3 weeks we spent in Norway this year 🙂



Right, here are a few details before we dive in!

Who: My husband, me, and our daughter, who turned 8 during the trip

When: From July 5 to 28, 2019—three full weeks there

What: A one-way trip from Oslo to Tromsø, with fjords, the Lofoten Islands, and so much more on the itinerary! Since you have to make choices—and because the country is huge—we decided to skip the south around Stavanger (we thought the hikes there might be too tough for us). We also chose not to go all the way to Bergen. Our goal was to spend time in the northern islands.

The route to Bodø:



The route from Lofoten to Tromsø



How: By camper van. Even though it’s not exactly budget-friendly, it’s really the ideal way to explore this country—especially for wild camping and adapting your route based on the weather and your mood. I’d recommend it 200%. It was our first time, and we loved it. Being able to wait out a downpour in warmth or shower after a long hike was super practical!! That said, we did have a few hiccups. The auxiliary battery (which powers the back) died, so we had to find a garage to replace it. And the biggest issue: on a narrow road, I smashed the mirror while passing another camper van 🏴‍☠️

Budget: Oh boy, that’s a big topic! To be honest, I didn’t tally it all up… because I didn’t want to! Everything is more expensive there, obviously. At the supermarket, for example. So I didn’t keep track—this was a vacation, we weren’t there to count every cent, even if we’re not exactly rolling in money! Ferries are pretty pricey, especially with a camper van, but there’s not much choice. Lots of toll roads too. Basically, when you go there, be prepared to open your wallet!!!

The weather: We weren’t sure what to expect before leaving—or rather, we were expecting bad weather. We were pleasantly surprised: we had almost nothing but great weather, with just a bit of rain toward the end. So the hiking trails weren’t muddy (at all?). Otherwise, it would’ve been a real pain and super slippery! Temperature-wise, we were lucky. It hovered between 15 and 21°C. Sounds chilly, but honestly, with the sun, it warms up nicely, and it was enough to wear shorts and a T-shirt almost the whole time—something I didn’t expect before we left. That said, the water temperature is freezing. The Arctic Ocean lives up to its name!! We could barely keep our feet in the water, even though those turquoise beaches were so tempting!!!

A few tips for preparation:

For wild camping: Use Park4Night—the app is amazing for finding spots and sharing our discoveries. We never would’ve dared to venture down some of those roads or trails without it.

For hikes: It’s not always easy to find hikes in the fjords that are manageable in terms of elevation, difficulty, and time. We still found some through blogs and tourist office websites. But we mostly focused on hikes in the Lofoten Islands, thanks to sites like rando-lofoten, 68north, and outt. Unsurprisingly, the level is pretty challenging. But by sticking to the “easy” ones, we managed just fine without being super trained, and we saw some incredible views!

Alright, no more waiting—let’s go! Follow me!

For those who want the "moving version," check out the video here, on page 3: https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=9817074;live=1;#9817074