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Vos infos sur l'Ukraine
coucou,
j'aimerais avoir des infos sur l'Ukraine, vos exprériences, impressions...bref tout...
car j'ai peut être l'occasion de partir 3 mois dans les carpates....
Merci a tt 😉
Brujita
j'aimerais avoir des infos sur l'Ukraine, vos exprériences, impressions...bref tout...
car j'ai peut être l'occasion de partir 3 mois dans les carpates....
Merci a tt 😉
Brujita
Le vin!
Avant toute chose, je demande pardon à ceux d'entre vous qui sont loin de toute bouteille et qui liront les posts qui vont suivre les yeux humides, un filet de bave aux commissures. Pardon donc à Titania, Philo, Loopkin et aux autres !
Pour donner suite au passionnant sujet, "Le Pain !", lançé par Trek, j'aimerai à présent aborder un sujet qui me passionne : le vin.
Racontez-nous vos meilleures expériences vinicoles à l'étranger : une dégustation mémorable, la rencontre avec un vigneron hors du commun, la découverte d'un cépage ou d'une technique qui vous étaient inconnus, etc.
Pour donner suite au passionnant sujet, "Le Pain !", lançé par Trek, j'aimerai à présent aborder un sujet qui me passionne : le vin.
Racontez-nous vos meilleures expériences vinicoles à l'étranger : une dégustation mémorable, la rencontre avec un vigneron hors du commun, la découverte d'un cépage ou d'une technique qui vous étaient inconnus, etc.
Le Pain!
Le pain. L’aliment le plus ancien de l’homme sédentarisé entré dans l’ère de l’agriculture. Une denrée vitale qui a nourri des générations d’hommes depuis des millénaires. Une diversité innombrable de ce met élémentaire, souvent anodin parfois délicieux, se décline à partir d’une recette simple, unique à base de farine, d’eau, de levure. Sa multitude infinie se décline de par sa variété de textures, de formes, de farines, d’eau, de mode de cuisson et de petits secrets jalousement transmis au fil des générations de boulangers ou de traditions familiales, tribales et culturelles.
De nos jours, en occident il s’apparente de plus en plus à du carton pâte ou à du béton ou parfois s’effrite comme du vulgaire plâtre, souvent fade, sans saveur. La société de consommation de masse est passée par là.
Il reste pourtant des artisans soucieux d’élaborer un produit de qualité. Qu’il soit au coin de votre rue ou à l’autre bout du monde, un boulanger sait encore vous combler et vous apporter la joie immense de goûter un produit simple, unique et vrai. L’harmonie conjuguée de l’odeur chaude et suave, de la croûte blonde et dorée, d’un cœur moelleux et délicat vous apporte un bonheur immense, parce que simple, naturel, essentiel, primordial. Cette palette infinie de couleurs blondes, dorées, ocres ou blanc cassé sont un plaisir pour les yeux. Cet éventail d’effluves de blé chaud, ou d’orge brûlant est une joie pour l’odorat. Cette multitude de textures craquantes et croquantes, tendre et fondante, élastique et flexible, onctueuse et souple sont un florilège pour notre palais.
Parlez nous de vos jardins secrets, de vos plaisirs inoubliables de pains d’exception dont vous vous êtes délectés afin de nous faire rêver, afin de ne pas rater ce boulanger rare qui confectionne encore un aliment simplement bon, nourrissant qui enrichira nos voyages de sensations élémentaires mais ô combien bénéfiques. 😉
Beub
De nos jours, en occident il s’apparente de plus en plus à du carton pâte ou à du béton ou parfois s’effrite comme du vulgaire plâtre, souvent fade, sans saveur. La société de consommation de masse est passée par là.
Il reste pourtant des artisans soucieux d’élaborer un produit de qualité. Qu’il soit au coin de votre rue ou à l’autre bout du monde, un boulanger sait encore vous combler et vous apporter la joie immense de goûter un produit simple, unique et vrai. L’harmonie conjuguée de l’odeur chaude et suave, de la croûte blonde et dorée, d’un cœur moelleux et délicat vous apporte un bonheur immense, parce que simple, naturel, essentiel, primordial. Cette palette infinie de couleurs blondes, dorées, ocres ou blanc cassé sont un plaisir pour les yeux. Cet éventail d’effluves de blé chaud, ou d’orge brûlant est une joie pour l’odorat. Cette multitude de textures craquantes et croquantes, tendre et fondante, élastique et flexible, onctueuse et souple sont un florilège pour notre palais.
Parlez nous de vos jardins secrets, de vos plaisirs inoubliables de pains d’exception dont vous vous êtes délectés afin de nous faire rêver, afin de ne pas rater ce boulanger rare qui confectionne encore un aliment simplement bon, nourrissant qui enrichira nos voyages de sensations élémentaires mais ô combien bénéfiques. 😉
Beub
Vos plus beaux clichés de monuments
Allez Tertoutes! 🙂 Une nouvelle rasade de : vos plus beaux ... clichés de monuments cette fois; Les façades, les vielles pierres, les temples ...Qui vont ont émerveillés. Je débute avec une sélection purement "azura" 😏
Amener le lait de croissance en bouteille en République Dominicaine?
Salut a tous,
je cherche plusieurs personne pouvant me renseigner car je par 15 j en république domènicaine avec un petit de deux ans et demi qui boit du lait de croissance gervais en bouteille et je ne sais pas comment faire est ce que je prend le lait avec? si oui il ne va pas tournée? ect....
merci de vos réponse c'est très important pour moi.
bise a tous
je cherche plusieurs personne pouvant me renseigner car je par 15 j en république domènicaine avec un petit de deux ans et demi qui boit du lait de croissance gervais en bouteille et je ne sais pas comment faire est ce que je prend le lait avec? si oui il ne va pas tournée? ect....
merci de vos réponse c'est très important pour moi.
bise a tous
Ouzbekistan, le retour
revenue il y a qq jours d'ouzbekistan, en vrac des infos : les médias locaux n'ont rien laissé filtrer au sujet des bombes à Taskent devant les ambassades ; et la ville a gardé son aspect habituel .. Des français se sont fait controler dans le métro et à l'occasion fait dérober du fric. Les hoteliers précisent bien qu'on ne doit montrer que son passeport et l'enregistrement, pas l'argent ; difficile peut-être de refuser à un flic ! nous on n'a pas pris le métro ! pour 500 soums on se déplace partout en taxi.
au sujet des enregistrement d'hotel, on a tout gardé précieusement et on ne nous a rien demandé à la sortie du territoire ! JUSTE la déclaration de devises, faut garder précieusement celle tamponnée à l'entrée er en remplir une autre à la sortie, en tenant compte des changes effectués, of course !
Les euros se changent sans problème, mais vu qu'il faut une brouette pour emporter les billets ouzbeks (1 usd = 1000 soums), avoir des petites coupures en dollars permet de payer les hotels, les taxis longues distances etc.
attention, même la banque peut arnaquer : des liasses de soums prises à la banque et entourées d'une bandelette de controle, ne contenaient que 98 billets et pas 100 ! petite fraude de 1000 soums, mais répétée, ça complète un salaire !
la vie locale n'est pas chère; on se nourrit pour pas cher dans les tchaichanas ; bon d'accord ce n'est pas varié et le schachlik on finit par en avoir marre, mais le reste est bien gras, on trouve dans les marchés de quoi compléter en fruits. En général dans les BB le petit déj est copieux (et compris dans le prix de la chambre).
Le gros poste budget, c'est l'hotel ; on a surtout fait des BB, autour de 10 usd la nuit par personne. A Andijan, l'hotel du même nom est en réfection et a un chambre utilisable très correcte pour 15 usd la nuit à 2 ; à Namangan, l'hotel Orzu est un caractéristique du viel hotel soviétique, surtout au niveau de la plomberie ! pour 10 usd la nuit à 2 ; mais l'accueil est fort sympathique.
A CHAKHRIZABZ, on peut loger chez l'habitant en demandant aux femmes qui vendent des souvenirs dans la cour de la mosquée, et la réceptioniste de l'hotel chakrizabz, consciente du prix prohibitif de l'hotel (40 usd !!!) propose une chambre chez elle ....
A FERGHANA, une 2éme Sonia BB, 80 rue BABOUR, et à KOKAND, une adresse super, Saima Jololona 31 rue turkestan
la ferghana ? aucun problème de déplacement, d'accueil ; c'est très tranquille, pas grand chose à voir ni à faire ... humer l'air du temps ouzbek, si possible avec un peu de russe pour les contacts, car peu de gens parlent anglais.
les fleuves : l'amou diara à la hauteur du pont de BEROUNI, coule tranquille, avec des bancs de sable, et ses eaux atteignent le bord des barges qui forment le pont. le syr daria lui aussi a des bancs de sable.
l'a fait chaud, un reget, ne pas être passer au KIRGUISISTAN, on peut obtenir le visa à Taskent en 48 h en payant le double du prix ..
BON VOYAGE à ceux qui partent !
au sujet des enregistrement d'hotel, on a tout gardé précieusement et on ne nous a rien demandé à la sortie du territoire ! JUSTE la déclaration de devises, faut garder précieusement celle tamponnée à l'entrée er en remplir une autre à la sortie, en tenant compte des changes effectués, of course !
Les euros se changent sans problème, mais vu qu'il faut une brouette pour emporter les billets ouzbeks (1 usd = 1000 soums), avoir des petites coupures en dollars permet de payer les hotels, les taxis longues distances etc.
attention, même la banque peut arnaquer : des liasses de soums prises à la banque et entourées d'une bandelette de controle, ne contenaient que 98 billets et pas 100 ! petite fraude de 1000 soums, mais répétée, ça complète un salaire !
la vie locale n'est pas chère; on se nourrit pour pas cher dans les tchaichanas ; bon d'accord ce n'est pas varié et le schachlik on finit par en avoir marre, mais le reste est bien gras, on trouve dans les marchés de quoi compléter en fruits. En général dans les BB le petit déj est copieux (et compris dans le prix de la chambre).
Le gros poste budget, c'est l'hotel ; on a surtout fait des BB, autour de 10 usd la nuit par personne. A Andijan, l'hotel du même nom est en réfection et a un chambre utilisable très correcte pour 15 usd la nuit à 2 ; à Namangan, l'hotel Orzu est un caractéristique du viel hotel soviétique, surtout au niveau de la plomberie ! pour 10 usd la nuit à 2 ; mais l'accueil est fort sympathique.
A CHAKHRIZABZ, on peut loger chez l'habitant en demandant aux femmes qui vendent des souvenirs dans la cour de la mosquée, et la réceptioniste de l'hotel chakrizabz, consciente du prix prohibitif de l'hotel (40 usd !!!) propose une chambre chez elle ....
A FERGHANA, une 2éme Sonia BB, 80 rue BABOUR, et à KOKAND, une adresse super, Saima Jololona 31 rue turkestan
la ferghana ? aucun problème de déplacement, d'accueil ; c'est très tranquille, pas grand chose à voir ni à faire ... humer l'air du temps ouzbek, si possible avec un peu de russe pour les contacts, car peu de gens parlent anglais.
les fleuves : l'amou diara à la hauteur du pont de BEROUNI, coule tranquille, avec des bancs de sable, et ses eaux atteignent le bord des barges qui forment le pont. le syr daria lui aussi a des bancs de sable.
l'a fait chaud, un reget, ne pas être passer au KIRGUISISTAN, on peut obtenir le visa à Taskent en 48 h en payant le double du prix ..
BON VOYAGE à ceux qui partent !
Les photos de la soirée VF Lyon du 10 juin 2004
Salut tout le monde
Bon ben juste pour dire que plusieurs forumiens avaient leur appareil photo, j'ai pensé que les photographes pourraient faire leur reportage dans cette discussion (ce sera + facile à François d'en parler avec ce nouveau sujet plutot que d'ajouter les photos à la queue des 80 réponses du message de Pimpelune, non?).
La soirée était géniale, très enrichissante, très chaude aussi (je parle de la météo), nous étions environ 25 (et pourtant y avait pas mal d'absents!), chacun avait amené une spécialité (salade Tahitienne, salade Norvégienne, riz Cantonais, sushis, tarte au thon, tarte à la tartiflette, mousse au chocolat, brownies maison, j'en oublie et pourtant j'ai TOUT testé!!
).
On a tous été d'accord pour faire d'ici quelques temps une soirée VF Lyon n°4 ! 🙂🙂 Merci Pimpelune l'organisatrice !! 🙂🙂
Bon y a encore plein de choses à dire, alors je laisse la parole aux 25 forumiens d'hier soir pour compléter ce que j'ai dit, si possible en images!!) 🙂
Bon ben juste pour dire que plusieurs forumiens avaient leur appareil photo, j'ai pensé que les photographes pourraient faire leur reportage dans cette discussion (ce sera + facile à François d'en parler avec ce nouveau sujet plutot que d'ajouter les photos à la queue des 80 réponses du message de Pimpelune, non?).
La soirée était géniale, très enrichissante, très chaude aussi (je parle de la météo), nous étions environ 25 (et pourtant y avait pas mal d'absents!), chacun avait amené une spécialité (salade Tahitienne, salade Norvégienne, riz Cantonais, sushis, tarte au thon, tarte à la tartiflette, mousse au chocolat, brownies maison, j'en oublie et pourtant j'ai TOUT testé!!
).On a tous été d'accord pour faire d'ici quelques temps une soirée VF Lyon n°4 ! 🙂🙂 Merci Pimpelune l'organisatrice !! 🙂🙂
Bon y a encore plein de choses à dire, alors je laisse la parole aux 25 forumiens d'hier soir pour compléter ce que j'ai dit, si possible en images!!) 🙂
Mon royaume pour des Empanadas
Je suis amoureux des empanadas. Les meilleures sont à mon goût les argentines, les tops meilleures sont celles de Salta et le sublime absolu se déguste chez à Salta chez "Dona Salta" (presque en face de l'église San Fransisco, rue Cordoba), un resto que je n'ai jamais vu dans les guides (tant mieux !).
Je cherche un endroit où déguster ces petites merveilles à Paris sans avoir à pleurer au moment de l'addition.
Voilà, à part ça la meilleure viande du monde est uruguayenne.
Je cherche un endroit où déguster ces petites merveilles à Paris sans avoir à pleurer au moment de l'addition.
Voilà, à part ça la meilleure viande du monde est uruguayenne.
Ramener une tortue du Maroc
bonjour je vais aller au maroc on ma dit que je peut remmener une tortue... possible ou pas ???🙂
Chypre: superbe destination à découvrir!
Personne ne parle de Chypre sur ce forum pourtant c'est une île magnifique et à decouvrir vraiment : plages desertes, habitants extra, ambiance assurés, nourriture ( j'en reve encore!!) etc etc. Une idée pour tous ceux qui ne savent pas ou partir !!!😉
Kyrgyzstan: Practical Information 2026
Recent information about this country is scarce, so I’m starting this post in addition to my travel journal to help fill the gap.
- Which airline from Europe?
Turkish Airlines seems like an excellent option. The price is very reasonable (just over 500 €), the layover isn’t too long, the in-flight comfort is decent (great movie selection), and the planes are modern. Plus, the price automatically includes 30 kilos of luggage, which is perfect for campers.
The downside: the outrageous prices at Istanbul Airport.
- Bishkek Airport
The airport is under full reconstruction. It’s chaotic. There are SIM card vendors upon arrival, but no currency exchange or ATMs in the baggage claim area. You’ll find those in the departures section, which means you have to exit and re-enter under the current setup.
Personally, I pre-booked a VTC with my hotel for the transfer to the city. (Prices vary depending on the hotel’s standard—1200 soms for mine.)
There are taxis and a bus available.
- Entry Requirements
No visa is required for French citizens for stays of up to 30 days.
- Currency
The currency is the som, and the conversion is easy—just divide by 100...
You can get soms by exchanging euros (dollars are useless) or by withdrawing from an ATM. Some ATMs charge fees. Those from Mbank and Optimabank are fee-free.
The maximum withdrawal is usually 20,000 soms.
Bills come in 5000, 1000, 500, 200, 100, 50, and 20 soms.
Coins: 10, 5, 3, and 1 som.
- Paying
Card payments are accepted in supermarkets like Globus, some restaurants, gas stations of major chains (Bishkek Petroleum, Partner Neft, Red Petroleum), some hotels, national park entrances, tolls, etc.
But it doesn’t always work.
So always carry cash with you!
If the card works, great—otherwise, it’s back to the old days of wads of bills.
- Cost of Living
It’s really cheap (gas, affordable restaurants even at a decent standard, hotels, souvenirs, fruits, vegetables, water, bread...). For example, a lagman costs only 3.20 €, fixing a flat tire is 3.5 €, a full hour-long wash for a filthy 4x4 is 6 €, washing a big bag of laundry is 3 €, and a liter of 95-octane gas is 0.86 €...
On the pricier side: guesthouses and meals in guesthouses. The value for money is poor. I paid 40 € for a mediocre room with a very basic shared bathroom, while a double with AC, private bathroom, and fridge in a non-touristy hotel cost 20 €... Meals in guesthouses are the worst I’ve eaten and often the most expensive. Plus, they’re very light—don’t expect to fill up after a long day of hiking!
Car rentals are also quite expensive (70 $ per day for a RAV4 in my case).
In short, for two people, excluding accommodation and car rental, we spent an average of 45 € per day (groceries, restaurants, guesthouse dinners, souvenirs, paid activities, gas).
The trip cost us 2200 € per person all-inclusive for 3 weeks on the ground. Roughly 1/4 for the flight, 1/4 for the car, 1/4 for accommodation, and 1/4 for everything else.
- Getting Around
I’ve met cyclists, motorcyclists, people renting cars, those who drove their own vehicles from Europe, and others using public transport and taxis.
Personally, I chose to rent a car.
If you’re not planning long hikes or multi-day horse treks, it’s a great option for exploring the country.
Each car rental company has its own list of forbidden tracks. Make sure your planned route is allowed! Don’t think about ignoring this—vehicles are equipped with GPS trackers...
An international driver’s permit is required.
Police and speed cameras are everywhere, so it’s best to respect the signs (daytime running lights, seatbelts, 40-60 km/h in populated areas, 90 km/h on roads, zero tolerance for alcohol).
Locals have a unique driving style, and it can be dangerous on main roads (they overtake recklessly...). Like in Greece, South Africa, or Malta, a two-lane road is treated as a three-lane one. You pull over to let others pass or to let oncoming traffic overtake.
Without a car (at least a pseudo-4x4), you won’t be able to go everywhere. This country is a nature destination, but nature isn’t always accessible by public transport.
If a spot is near a road, great—the bus will get you almost to the door. Otherwise, you’ll need to hire an agency or take a taxi.
Cyclists will face steep climbs and dust. I’d advise avoiding main roads as much as possible—traffic isn’t on your side...
Motorcyclists will also eat a lot of dust and should research gas stations along their route (this advice also applies to vehicles running on 95-octane).
There’s a 95-octane pump in Kazarman and Gulcha.
Bikes and motorcycles have an advantage over cars, even 4x4s, as they can access some very remote tracks that other vehicles can’t (hikers and horses can obviously take them too!).
Be careful: some areas require a permit (border zones). Research this well in advance—the formalities don’t take an hour or even a day!
Be warned: Google Maps is completely unreliable (it shows roads that don’t exist, routes you through difficult tracks instead of paved roads, etc.). It’s essential to download Maps.me in advance. This app is much more reliable for this country, works offline, and is handy for hiking navigation.
A reminder: horseback riding is like cycling... If you’re not used to it or naturally padded in the right places, your backside will suffer in no time!
Think carefully before embarking on a multi-day trek!
Finally, this country is a kingdom of construction... The Chinese have taken over the market to improve truck circulation and are paving everywhere. (Good news: the Kazarman-Osh section via the tunnel is finally open in summer, even if the road isn’t quite finished.)
- Eating
I had prejudices about Kyrgyz food.
I was both wrong and right.
Supermarkets don’t offer much that’s appealing for picnics. It’s cheap, filling food, full of junk, and not gourmet. If you follow Yuka, I think you’ll be on a diet the whole trip. Bringing some pâté, sausages, or freeze-dried meals for certain nights is a good idea...
Guesthouse dinners consist of the eternal cucumber-tomato salad, a soup, and a light noodle or rice dish where you’ll be searching for the meat... Usually tough and unidentifiable. Beef? The bread is stale, and there’s no dessert or fruit.
Breakfasts always revolve around eggs or porridge... The homemade jam is usually good.
Tea is the number one drink, followed by kompot (a fruit-based drink), Coke, and Fanta.
If you want real coffee, bring your own—it’s very rare.
On the other hand, you eat well in restaurants. Lagman (homemade noodles, vegetables, spices, and usually beef), crispy eggplant, kuurdak (a kind of lamb stew with potatoes), kebabs, plov (pilaf rice with onions, carrots, and meat), and rainbow trout... For dessert? Nada!
And alcohol?
It’s available in all Globus stores: beer, wine, spirits, and you can consume your purchases in some guesthouses (depending on the owner’s religious tolerance). It’s also available in some restaurants (Bishkek, Karakol, Osh...).
The deadly specialty?
White fermented milk balls called kurut. If you think a raw-milk camembert is strong, steer clear! This is more like an old, dry, spicy goat cheese.
- Accommodation
In remote areas, it’s better to check availability on Booking a few days in advance rather than showing up last minute with high hopes.
Booking and Airbnb only offer a small portion of what’s available.
Not necessarily guesthouses, but mostly accommodations aimed at locals (business or leisure travel).
These places are generally more comfortable. There’s even some upscale options.
So it’s necessary to scour Google Maps or Yandex Maps... These accommodations are usually found on Instagram, and WhatsApp is handy for booking!
Prices are a bit of a lottery. So is the comfort. From 20 to 80 € for a double, usually with a private bathroom. (Average around 40 €). These rates are for mid-range options.
Otherwise, this country is a paradise for wild camping. In a camper van, rooftop tent, or ground tent... There are beautiful spots everywhere!
- Climate
I thought it would be quite cool/cold at altitude.
I packed too many warm clothes...
If you’re not doing high-altitude treks or sleeping in a tent, there’s no need to overload yourself with winter gear.
A good fleece, a windproof rain jacket, and technical base layers will be enough.
It only got really cold in the evenings at Song Kul Lake and Tash Rabat, and the yurts are equipped with thick blankets and a stove.
Elsewhere, temperatures ranged from 15 to 30 °C.
In short, I used the AC more than the heater! (It’s hard to drive with the windows open unless you want to be covered in dust in no time...)
- Communication
I bought an eSIM before the trip with a data plan for Kyrgyzstan (Beeline network). Perfect for communicating via WhatsApp right after landing, but this network isn’t the best in Kyrgyzstan.
We then got a physical SIM card with an unlimited one-month plan (less than 4 € including the SIM) at a Mega store downtown. This network is much better, and you get coverage in all cities and most villages. Usually in the mountain passes too.
To make yourself understood, it’s essential to download Google Translate with French, Kyrgyz, Russian, and English options.
Very useful for translating menus, signs, and communicating with locals.
Hosts and other tourism professionals will even pull out their phones to communicate with non-Russian speakers.
The police too...
- Religion
There’s a noticeable difference between the north and the southwest of the country.
In the north, it’s a bit like Albania. People are Muslim by culture but not really by religion.
In the southwest, radical Islam is growing. Mosques are more numerous and imposing. Men are more bearded, women more veiled.
For travelers, religion isn’t an issue except for the near-total absence of pork.
There’s Russian sausage, but reading the ingredient list, it’s more like a one-way ticket to cancer than an Auvergne dry sausage...
You can find the detailed account of the trip here.
- Which airline from Europe?
Turkish Airlines seems like an excellent option. The price is very reasonable (just over 500 €), the layover isn’t too long, the in-flight comfort is decent (great movie selection), and the planes are modern. Plus, the price automatically includes 30 kilos of luggage, which is perfect for campers.
The downside: the outrageous prices at Istanbul Airport.
- Bishkek Airport
The airport is under full reconstruction. It’s chaotic. There are SIM card vendors upon arrival, but no currency exchange or ATMs in the baggage claim area. You’ll find those in the departures section, which means you have to exit and re-enter under the current setup.
Personally, I pre-booked a VTC with my hotel for the transfer to the city. (Prices vary depending on the hotel’s standard—1200 soms for mine.)
There are taxis and a bus available.
- Entry Requirements
No visa is required for French citizens for stays of up to 30 days.
- Currency
The currency is the som, and the conversion is easy—just divide by 100...
You can get soms by exchanging euros (dollars are useless) or by withdrawing from an ATM. Some ATMs charge fees. Those from Mbank and Optimabank are fee-free.
The maximum withdrawal is usually 20,000 soms.
Bills come in 5000, 1000, 500, 200, 100, 50, and 20 soms.
Coins: 10, 5, 3, and 1 som.
- Paying
Card payments are accepted in supermarkets like Globus, some restaurants, gas stations of major chains (Bishkek Petroleum, Partner Neft, Red Petroleum), some hotels, national park entrances, tolls, etc.
But it doesn’t always work.
So always carry cash with you!
If the card works, great—otherwise, it’s back to the old days of wads of bills.
- Cost of Living
It’s really cheap (gas, affordable restaurants even at a decent standard, hotels, souvenirs, fruits, vegetables, water, bread...). For example, a lagman costs only 3.20 €, fixing a flat tire is 3.5 €, a full hour-long wash for a filthy 4x4 is 6 €, washing a big bag of laundry is 3 €, and a liter of 95-octane gas is 0.86 €...
On the pricier side: guesthouses and meals in guesthouses. The value for money is poor. I paid 40 € for a mediocre room with a very basic shared bathroom, while a double with AC, private bathroom, and fridge in a non-touristy hotel cost 20 €... Meals in guesthouses are the worst I’ve eaten and often the most expensive. Plus, they’re very light—don’t expect to fill up after a long day of hiking!
Car rentals are also quite expensive (70 $ per day for a RAV4 in my case).
In short, for two people, excluding accommodation and car rental, we spent an average of 45 € per day (groceries, restaurants, guesthouse dinners, souvenirs, paid activities, gas).
The trip cost us 2200 € per person all-inclusive for 3 weeks on the ground. Roughly 1/4 for the flight, 1/4 for the car, 1/4 for accommodation, and 1/4 for everything else.
- Getting Around
I’ve met cyclists, motorcyclists, people renting cars, those who drove their own vehicles from Europe, and others using public transport and taxis.
Personally, I chose to rent a car.
If you’re not planning long hikes or multi-day horse treks, it’s a great option for exploring the country.
Each car rental company has its own list of forbidden tracks. Make sure your planned route is allowed! Don’t think about ignoring this—vehicles are equipped with GPS trackers...
An international driver’s permit is required.
Police and speed cameras are everywhere, so it’s best to respect the signs (daytime running lights, seatbelts, 40-60 km/h in populated areas, 90 km/h on roads, zero tolerance for alcohol).
Locals have a unique driving style, and it can be dangerous on main roads (they overtake recklessly...). Like in Greece, South Africa, or Malta, a two-lane road is treated as a three-lane one. You pull over to let others pass or to let oncoming traffic overtake.
Without a car (at least a pseudo-4x4), you won’t be able to go everywhere. This country is a nature destination, but nature isn’t always accessible by public transport.
If a spot is near a road, great—the bus will get you almost to the door. Otherwise, you’ll need to hire an agency or take a taxi.
Cyclists will face steep climbs and dust. I’d advise avoiding main roads as much as possible—traffic isn’t on your side...
Motorcyclists will also eat a lot of dust and should research gas stations along their route (this advice also applies to vehicles running on 95-octane).
There’s a 95-octane pump in Kazarman and Gulcha.
Bikes and motorcycles have an advantage over cars, even 4x4s, as they can access some very remote tracks that other vehicles can’t (hikers and horses can obviously take them too!).
Be careful: some areas require a permit (border zones). Research this well in advance—the formalities don’t take an hour or even a day!
Be warned: Google Maps is completely unreliable (it shows roads that don’t exist, routes you through difficult tracks instead of paved roads, etc.). It’s essential to download Maps.me in advance. This app is much more reliable for this country, works offline, and is handy for hiking navigation.
A reminder: horseback riding is like cycling... If you’re not used to it or naturally padded in the right places, your backside will suffer in no time!
Think carefully before embarking on a multi-day trek!
Finally, this country is a kingdom of construction... The Chinese have taken over the market to improve truck circulation and are paving everywhere. (Good news: the Kazarman-Osh section via the tunnel is finally open in summer, even if the road isn’t quite finished.)
- Eating
I had prejudices about Kyrgyz food.
I was both wrong and right.
Supermarkets don’t offer much that’s appealing for picnics. It’s cheap, filling food, full of junk, and not gourmet. If you follow Yuka, I think you’ll be on a diet the whole trip. Bringing some pâté, sausages, or freeze-dried meals for certain nights is a good idea...
Guesthouse dinners consist of the eternal cucumber-tomato salad, a soup, and a light noodle or rice dish where you’ll be searching for the meat... Usually tough and unidentifiable. Beef? The bread is stale, and there’s no dessert or fruit.
Breakfasts always revolve around eggs or porridge... The homemade jam is usually good.
Tea is the number one drink, followed by kompot (a fruit-based drink), Coke, and Fanta.
If you want real coffee, bring your own—it’s very rare.
On the other hand, you eat well in restaurants. Lagman (homemade noodles, vegetables, spices, and usually beef), crispy eggplant, kuurdak (a kind of lamb stew with potatoes), kebabs, plov (pilaf rice with onions, carrots, and meat), and rainbow trout... For dessert? Nada!
And alcohol?
It’s available in all Globus stores: beer, wine, spirits, and you can consume your purchases in some guesthouses (depending on the owner’s religious tolerance). It’s also available in some restaurants (Bishkek, Karakol, Osh...).
The deadly specialty?
White fermented milk balls called kurut. If you think a raw-milk camembert is strong, steer clear! This is more like an old, dry, spicy goat cheese.
- Accommodation
In remote areas, it’s better to check availability on Booking a few days in advance rather than showing up last minute with high hopes.
Booking and Airbnb only offer a small portion of what’s available.
Not necessarily guesthouses, but mostly accommodations aimed at locals (business or leisure travel).
These places are generally more comfortable. There’s even some upscale options.
So it’s necessary to scour Google Maps or Yandex Maps... These accommodations are usually found on Instagram, and WhatsApp is handy for booking!
Prices are a bit of a lottery. So is the comfort. From 20 to 80 € for a double, usually with a private bathroom. (Average around 40 €). These rates are for mid-range options.
Otherwise, this country is a paradise for wild camping. In a camper van, rooftop tent, or ground tent... There are beautiful spots everywhere!
- Climate
I thought it would be quite cool/cold at altitude.
I packed too many warm clothes...
If you’re not doing high-altitude treks or sleeping in a tent, there’s no need to overload yourself with winter gear.
A good fleece, a windproof rain jacket, and technical base layers will be enough.
It only got really cold in the evenings at Song Kul Lake and Tash Rabat, and the yurts are equipped with thick blankets and a stove.
Elsewhere, temperatures ranged from 15 to 30 °C.
In short, I used the AC more than the heater! (It’s hard to drive with the windows open unless you want to be covered in dust in no time...)
- Communication
I bought an eSIM before the trip with a data plan for Kyrgyzstan (Beeline network). Perfect for communicating via WhatsApp right after landing, but this network isn’t the best in Kyrgyzstan.
We then got a physical SIM card with an unlimited one-month plan (less than 4 € including the SIM) at a Mega store downtown. This network is much better, and you get coverage in all cities and most villages. Usually in the mountain passes too.
To make yourself understood, it’s essential to download Google Translate with French, Kyrgyz, Russian, and English options.
Very useful for translating menus, signs, and communicating with locals.
Hosts and other tourism professionals will even pull out their phones to communicate with non-Russian speakers.
The police too...
- Religion
There’s a noticeable difference between the north and the southwest of the country.
In the north, it’s a bit like Albania. People are Muslim by culture but not really by religion.
In the southwest, radical Islam is growing. Mosques are more numerous and imposing. Men are more bearded, women more veiled.
For travelers, religion isn’t an issue except for the near-total absence of pork.
There’s Russian sausage, but reading the ingredient list, it’s more like a one-way ticket to cancer than an Auvergne dry sausage...
You can find the detailed account of the trip here.
Draw Me Your Japan...
Hi there!
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.
Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area). In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
To be continued...
I’m inviting you on a stroll through my drawings—a completely subjective, far from exhaustive, and totally personal take, since it’s based on my own sketches. I put this travel journal together after returning in late 2024, mostly using felt-tip pens and pencils, with a few collages thrown in. I worked from our personal photos.Let’s start with the shotengai...
Our first "wow" moment came as we stepped out of the subway in Asakusa, the Tokyo neighborhood where we’d booked our hotel for our first five nights. Exhausted after our long flight, we finally arrived and took an exit that led straight into a shotengai—one of those covered shopping streets that pop up in city centers and flourished between the 1950s and 1980s.
It was an instant aesthetic shock, like a close encounter of the third kind between the modern city, a typical Asian market with its street stalls, the vintage vibe of the arcade, the sheer abundance of goods, and the bustling crowd—a mix of tourists, pilgrims (thanks to nearby Senso-ji Temple), and locals (it’s a very working-class area). In the end, it set the tone for a feeling we’d experience throughout the trip. Wherever we went, shotengai turned out to be fantastic spots for finding little restaurants, shops, or even fresh produce. Some are like real mazes, like in Kyoto, where we spent ages trying to relocate a restaurant we’d loved ;-)
In Kanazawa, the Omicho Market:
And in Kyoto, Nishiki Market:
To be continued...
Africa: A Heartfelt Love for a Continent
“When the Whites came to Africa, we had the land and they had the Bible. They taught us to pray with our eyes closed: when we opened them, the Whites had the land and we had the Bible.” Jomo Kenyatta (p.7)
The Maggi cube, an unchallenged hegemony, and so much more
“The hopeless continent,” headlined The Economist, a British magazine, in July 2000 about Africa. Eleven years later, the same magazine headlined “Africa rising” instead. Images of Africa in the prosperous North constantly oscillate between apocalyptic scenarios and enthusiastic projections. A key issue with such images lies in the generalization they entail. If you look at the continent, considerable contrasts emerge depending on space and time. It’s no surprise that a region of the world encompassing such diverse ecological zones, maintaining such varied ties with other continents, comprising nearly fifty nation-states in sub-Saharan Africa alone, and characterized by a great diversity of languages, belief systems, and historical paths, doesn’t share a single destiny.
And yet, for many people outside Africa, as well as for many Africans, the continent constitutes a single entity, defined by criteria such as skin color, a colonial past, poverty, and the art of survival. Until now, these perspectives were generally accompanied by the idea that Africa had to—or should have—followed a single path together, sometimes called development, sometimes modernization, sometimes liberation, then a market economy. None of these paths delivered on their promises.
The two writers Alain Mabanckou and Abdourahman Waberi—one from Congo, the other raised in Djibouti, both long settled in France and now professors at renowned North American universities (Los Angeles, Washington)—have had enough of pessimistic scenarios: “We are aware that Africa is in the world and the world is in Africa. The same goes for all other continents, as our destinies are inextricably linked for better or worse. We refuse to see Africa as a reservoir of misfortunes or a continent cursed by atavistic misfortune and characterized by ethnic conflicts. [...] It’s this passionate flame we wanted to capture in a book [...] a kind of stroll through African cultures, without any demands, each letter of the alphabet leading us to a notion, a practice, a concept, a moment in history, literature, painting, politics, economics, cuisine, etc.” (p.10-11). Africa, they write, is on the verge of “imposing a signature, a style, a way of being in the world and in relation to the rest of the world.” (p.11) To put words to the continent’s diversity and dynamism, the two authors created a “rambling ABC,” a kind of portrait—or more precisely, a mythography—that lets you see and feel the pulse of a vast continent whose cultural power is unfolding before our eyes. Once marginalized or even mocked, the voice and importance of the Continent in global affairs are now undeniable” (p.11), containing over a hundred entries, mostly concise, written in a relaxed and casual style. The optimistic, even exuberant tone is set from the brief introduction. The duo of authors wants to “sing a love song to the cultures of our continent, to its inhabitants past and present, to its exceptional resources and its spectacular globalization despite a certain pollution that still clouds our skies due to the unmatched duration of dictatorships in some of our regions.” (p.12) In doing so, they don’t want to be too distracted by today’s Afewerki-Biya-Bongo-Déby & Co. ...
Of course, you’ll find tributes to great precursors like Frantz Fanon (“[...] it was a love story and admiration that wasn’t dimmed by the four decades separating his birth from ours. Let’s add that we were born while the native of Fort-de-France had left the world’s stage four years earlier, in the prime of life” p.141), Mongo Beti (“You must read and reread Mongo Beti, a genius who used his fame to support often just causes in Africa, like defending oppressed groups. His place is already in History. His oppressors, like the dictators Ahmadou Ahidjo and Paul Biya, can’t compete in the same category” p.64), the Malian Amadou Hampâté Bâ
(“Posterity remembers him mainly as an tireless defender of African cultures. His plea for the collection and preservation of traditional African knowledge remains a major event for all men and women of good will. One day in 1960, at the UNESCO podium, the native of Bandiagara sounded the alarm: ‘[...] Since we’ve admitted that the humanity of each people is the heritage of all humanity, if African traditions aren’t collected in time and written down, they’ll one day be missing from the universal archives of humanity.’” p.51),
Kwame Nkrumah, “one of the founders of Pan-Africanism, father of Ghana’s independence” (p.239), as well as the historian Cheikh Anta Diop, the writer, poet, and politician Aimé Césaire, and the economist and thinker Samir Amin, but also very warm tributes to certain contemporary African intellectuals like Souleymane Bachir Diagne and Achille Mbembe
(“A few years ago, in dominant economic circles, a rumor often resurfaced, usually disguised as a cold and scientifically proven analysis: Africa is useless. It’s a burden for the rest of the human community. With its 2% share in world trade, it would disappear from stock market radars without anyone noticing. So? Maybe it’ll be pulled up by other continents. Wanting to surpass itself is a crazy bet for Africans, they concluded. Arrogant or clueless, President Nicolas Sarkozy declared before an audience of students and teachers at Cheikh Anta Diop University in Dakar: ‘The African man hasn’t entered history enough [...] He only knows the eternal repetition of time marked by the endless repetition of the same gestures and words.’ That was in 2007. For decades, armed only with reason, an intellectual often steps up to debunk prejudices, lazy readings, and dishonest frameworks used as false fronts by those who, like Nicolas Sarkozy or former journalist Stephen Smith, out of ignorance, contempt, or condescension, distort African reality. This intellectual is none other than the historian and political scientist Achille Mbembe. This heir of Frantz Fanon, Amílcar Cabral, Jean-Marc Ela, and Fabien Eboussi-Boulaga was born in 1957 in Cameroon, in the Bassa region. Marked early by the upheavals of a fratricidal war, Achille Mbembe became the guardian of the memory of martyrs. After brilliant studies in Paris, he went on to teach at the best American universities, but the call of the Continent was stronger than anything else. In Dakar, he once directed CODESRIA (Council for the Development of Social Science Research in Africa) before joining the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa. Even though the author of *Critique of Black Reason* (Éditions La Découverte, 2015) spends a few months at Duke University in North Carolina, his observation post remains South Africa. From Johannesburg, Achille Mbembe scrutinizes Africa and the whole world. A lucid observer with an elegant and generous pen, Achille Mbembe knows how to blend big and small history: ‘I was born one day in July, as the month was drawing to a close. It was 1957, in that part of Africa recently named ‘Cameroon,’ a memory of the wonder that seized Portuguese sailors in the 15th century when, sailing up the river near Douala, they couldn’t help but note the presence of a multitude of crustaceans, and named it *Rio dos Camarões*, meaning ‘River of Shrimp.’ I grew up in the shadow of this nameless land, since, in a way, the name it bears is only the product of someone else’s astonishment: a lexical mistake, if you will.’ From this mistake or wound, he made leaven, a springboard to compose a rich work, recognized worldwide. To denounce barriers and barbarians too. But that’s not enough. Among his peers in circles of thought and action, Achille Mbembe passionately and consistently defends human dignity and the beauty of the world. In doing so, he fulfills the mission Frantz Fanon entrusted to him.” (p.227-229),
as well as entries dedicated to lesser-known artists and intellectuals, like the French journalist and activist Rokhaya Diallo, daughter of Senegalese and Gambian parents, or the Ethiopian filmmaker Haile Gerima, who has long lived in the United States. Other names from politics, sports, music, art, and literature: Kofi Annan, p.36; Barack Obama, p.243; Thomas Sankara, p.277; Ousmane Sow, p.285; Yambo Ouologuem, p.250; Léopold Sédar Senghor, p.282; Muhammad Ali, p.30; Nuruddin Farah, p.146; Salif Keita, p.203; Ahmadou Kourouma, p.206; Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, p.236; Winnie Mandela, p.224; Kylian Mbappé, p.226 ...
The authors, who resolutely commit to a “mythography” (p.11) of Africa, also pay special attention to local social movements, cultural events, and aspects of daily life. *Y’en a marre*, “which also meant ‘we’re fed up with sitting on our hands’” (p.320-321), emerged about a decade ago in Senegal as a citizen movement of peaceful resistance and symbolizes, the authors emphasize, the fact that African youth are increasingly fed up “with the political circus deployed in Africa since independence, as our parents would say, ‘since the White man left’...” (p.321). A full entry is dedicated to the Maggi bouillon cube, which has flooded African markets for about forty years and enjoys immense popularity (“It’s everywhere in Africa, from Dakar to Djibouti, and from Tangier to Cape Town. It’s in every pot, every stew. Little hands put it in every sauce, every local or adapted dish. An unchallenged hegemony! You’ll find it in diasporas too. The culinary strolls in Paris, in the [...] neighborhood” p.90). Critics blame it not only for impoverishing the aromatic diversity of local dishes but also for being harmful to health. And yet, “he poorest Africans, those who eat only once a day, a few spoonfuls of white beans and a ball of *foufou*, for example, are the most fervent users of the magic cube.” (p.92-93)
For *fonio*, “the new trendy cereal. [...] From the millet family, fonio is probably the oldest cereal cultivated in West Africa, and mainly in its sub-Saharan part, for millennia. [...] Easy to grow, water-efficient, fonio grows everywhere except on clay soils. Long neglected because it was considered the poor man’s crop, fonio is now a source of pride for the farmers who cultivate it and cherish it like the apple of their eye” (p.156-157), the authors immediately offer a detailed recipe, letting the reader know that “e can’t resist sharing this fonio with chicken recipe from Mali with you:
Ingredients: 1 chicken 3 large ripe red tomatoes 4 tbsp tomato paste 4 large onions 1 garlic clove 1/2 cup oil 2 Maggi cubes or salt 2 large carrots 1 turnip 1 large cabbage 2 large potatoes 1 celery stalk 1 packet pre-cooked fonio 4 okra (or okra powder) salt, pepper
Preparation: 1. Prepare the sauce: wash and cut the chicken. Peel the onions, garlic, and vegetables. 2. In a pot, fry the chicken pieces. 3. Dice the onions, tomatoes, carrots, and turnip very small and add them to the pot. 4. Add the tomato paste, salt, and pepper. 5. Simmer for 15 min, then add 2 L of water and the cooked chicken pieces. 6. Simmer for 30 min, then add the crushed garlic and celery, plus the cabbage cut into 4 and the potatoes cut in half. 7. Prepare the fonio: cover it with warm water, let it rest for 15 min, and cook it over low heat. 8. In a small pot, boil the okra and crush them. 9. Mix the crushed okra with the cooked fonio, then salt. Serve hot.” (p.158-159)
The comedy *Black Mic Mac*, released in French theaters in 1986 and addressing France’s increasingly restrictive immigration policy at the time, also gets an entry, as do *Tintin in the Congo*, the popular comic, and *Jip’s Café* (“[...] a little Africa in the heart of Paris, with passersby stopping to admire the ‘ambianceurs’ on the dance floor or attend the cultural events offered by the place” (p.194), an African establishment in Paris that Alain Mabanckou already immortalized in one of his novels.
The duo of authors also tackles thorny subjects like jihadism (p.119), the Rwandan genocide (p.272), the CFA franc (p.82), and dictatorship (p.110). While the two strike the right tone here, many entries leave a slightly bitter taste. Two examples: why doesn’t the text on Barack Obama mention the great disappointment of many people in Africa, who expected more from the African policy of the first U.S. president with African roots than just occasional warm words? Why do the comments on Winnie Mandela gloss over the fact that she was a highly controversial icon of the anti-apartheid movement due to her involvement in kidnappings, acts of torture, and murders of alleged apartheid collaborators? Instead, there’s a compassion that brings tears to the eyes: “She was often reduced to a secondary role, the wife of a great man” or “When victory came, she didn’t taste its fruits. Divorced, isolated. She would never be a ‘first lady’ in an evening gown, posing before a bed of chrysanthemums. They’d keep her far from the circles of power” (p.224-225). At this point, I would’ve liked the authors to take a slightly more critical stance...
That said, these “weaknesses” (if you can call them that) shouldn’t overshadow the book as a whole. It remains an informative, sometimes very entertaining, and often even original work in its own way.
Book information (the original French and the German translation):
Alain Mabanckou/Abdourahman Waberi. Dictionnaire enjoué des cultures africaines. Fayard, 2019. Alain Mabanckou/Abdourahman Waberi. Der Puls Afrikas. Eine Liebeserklärung von A bis Z. Reclam, 2022.
Hery
The Maggi cube, an unchallenged hegemony, and so much more
“The hopeless continent,” headlined The Economist, a British magazine, in July 2000 about Africa. Eleven years later, the same magazine headlined “Africa rising” instead. Images of Africa in the prosperous North constantly oscillate between apocalyptic scenarios and enthusiastic projections. A key issue with such images lies in the generalization they entail. If you look at the continent, considerable contrasts emerge depending on space and time. It’s no surprise that a region of the world encompassing such diverse ecological zones, maintaining such varied ties with other continents, comprising nearly fifty nation-states in sub-Saharan Africa alone, and characterized by a great diversity of languages, belief systems, and historical paths, doesn’t share a single destiny.
And yet, for many people outside Africa, as well as for many Africans, the continent constitutes a single entity, defined by criteria such as skin color, a colonial past, poverty, and the art of survival. Until now, these perspectives were generally accompanied by the idea that Africa had to—or should have—followed a single path together, sometimes called development, sometimes modernization, sometimes liberation, then a market economy. None of these paths delivered on their promises.
The two writers Alain Mabanckou and Abdourahman Waberi—one from Congo, the other raised in Djibouti, both long settled in France and now professors at renowned North American universities (Los Angeles, Washington)—have had enough of pessimistic scenarios: “We are aware that Africa is in the world and the world is in Africa. The same goes for all other continents, as our destinies are inextricably linked for better or worse. We refuse to see Africa as a reservoir of misfortunes or a continent cursed by atavistic misfortune and characterized by ethnic conflicts. [...] It’s this passionate flame we wanted to capture in a book [...] a kind of stroll through African cultures, without any demands, each letter of the alphabet leading us to a notion, a practice, a concept, a moment in history, literature, painting, politics, economics, cuisine, etc.” (p.10-11). Africa, they write, is on the verge of “imposing a signature, a style, a way of being in the world and in relation to the rest of the world.” (p.11) To put words to the continent’s diversity and dynamism, the two authors created a “rambling ABC,” a kind of portrait—or more precisely, a mythography—that lets you see and feel the pulse of a vast continent whose cultural power is unfolding before our eyes. Once marginalized or even mocked, the voice and importance of the Continent in global affairs are now undeniable” (p.11), containing over a hundred entries, mostly concise, written in a relaxed and casual style. The optimistic, even exuberant tone is set from the brief introduction. The duo of authors wants to “sing a love song to the cultures of our continent, to its inhabitants past and present, to its exceptional resources and its spectacular globalization despite a certain pollution that still clouds our skies due to the unmatched duration of dictatorships in some of our regions.” (p.12) In doing so, they don’t want to be too distracted by today’s Afewerki-Biya-Bongo-Déby & Co. ...
Of course, you’ll find tributes to great precursors like Frantz Fanon (“[...] it was a love story and admiration that wasn’t dimmed by the four decades separating his birth from ours. Let’s add that we were born while the native of Fort-de-France had left the world’s stage four years earlier, in the prime of life” p.141), Mongo Beti (“You must read and reread Mongo Beti, a genius who used his fame to support often just causes in Africa, like defending oppressed groups. His place is already in History. His oppressors, like the dictators Ahmadou Ahidjo and Paul Biya, can’t compete in the same category” p.64), the Malian Amadou Hampâté Bâ
(“Posterity remembers him mainly as an tireless defender of African cultures. His plea for the collection and preservation of traditional African knowledge remains a major event for all men and women of good will. One day in 1960, at the UNESCO podium, the native of Bandiagara sounded the alarm: ‘[...] Since we’ve admitted that the humanity of each people is the heritage of all humanity, if African traditions aren’t collected in time and written down, they’ll one day be missing from the universal archives of humanity.’” p.51),
Kwame Nkrumah, “one of the founders of Pan-Africanism, father of Ghana’s independence” (p.239), as well as the historian Cheikh Anta Diop, the writer, poet, and politician Aimé Césaire, and the economist and thinker Samir Amin, but also very warm tributes to certain contemporary African intellectuals like Souleymane Bachir Diagne and Achille Mbembe
(“A few years ago, in dominant economic circles, a rumor often resurfaced, usually disguised as a cold and scientifically proven analysis: Africa is useless. It’s a burden for the rest of the human community. With its 2% share in world trade, it would disappear from stock market radars without anyone noticing. So? Maybe it’ll be pulled up by other continents. Wanting to surpass itself is a crazy bet for Africans, they concluded. Arrogant or clueless, President Nicolas Sarkozy declared before an audience of students and teachers at Cheikh Anta Diop University in Dakar: ‘The African man hasn’t entered history enough [...] He only knows the eternal repetition of time marked by the endless repetition of the same gestures and words.’ That was in 2007. For decades, armed only with reason, an intellectual often steps up to debunk prejudices, lazy readings, and dishonest frameworks used as false fronts by those who, like Nicolas Sarkozy or former journalist Stephen Smith, out of ignorance, contempt, or condescension, distort African reality. This intellectual is none other than the historian and political scientist Achille Mbembe. This heir of Frantz Fanon, Amílcar Cabral, Jean-Marc Ela, and Fabien Eboussi-Boulaga was born in 1957 in Cameroon, in the Bassa region. Marked early by the upheavals of a fratricidal war, Achille Mbembe became the guardian of the memory of martyrs. After brilliant studies in Paris, he went on to teach at the best American universities, but the call of the Continent was stronger than anything else. In Dakar, he once directed CODESRIA (Council for the Development of Social Science Research in Africa) before joining the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa. Even though the author of *Critique of Black Reason* (Éditions La Découverte, 2015) spends a few months at Duke University in North Carolina, his observation post remains South Africa. From Johannesburg, Achille Mbembe scrutinizes Africa and the whole world. A lucid observer with an elegant and generous pen, Achille Mbembe knows how to blend big and small history: ‘I was born one day in July, as the month was drawing to a close. It was 1957, in that part of Africa recently named ‘Cameroon,’ a memory of the wonder that seized Portuguese sailors in the 15th century when, sailing up the river near Douala, they couldn’t help but note the presence of a multitude of crustaceans, and named it *Rio dos Camarões*, meaning ‘River of Shrimp.’ I grew up in the shadow of this nameless land, since, in a way, the name it bears is only the product of someone else’s astonishment: a lexical mistake, if you will.’ From this mistake or wound, he made leaven, a springboard to compose a rich work, recognized worldwide. To denounce barriers and barbarians too. But that’s not enough. Among his peers in circles of thought and action, Achille Mbembe passionately and consistently defends human dignity and the beauty of the world. In doing so, he fulfills the mission Frantz Fanon entrusted to him.” (p.227-229),
as well as entries dedicated to lesser-known artists and intellectuals, like the French journalist and activist Rokhaya Diallo, daughter of Senegalese and Gambian parents, or the Ethiopian filmmaker Haile Gerima, who has long lived in the United States. Other names from politics, sports, music, art, and literature: Kofi Annan, p.36; Barack Obama, p.243; Thomas Sankara, p.277; Ousmane Sow, p.285; Yambo Ouologuem, p.250; Léopold Sédar Senghor, p.282; Muhammad Ali, p.30; Nuruddin Farah, p.146; Salif Keita, p.203; Ahmadou Kourouma, p.206; Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, p.236; Winnie Mandela, p.224; Kylian Mbappé, p.226 ...
The authors, who resolutely commit to a “mythography” (p.11) of Africa, also pay special attention to local social movements, cultural events, and aspects of daily life. *Y’en a marre*, “which also meant ‘we’re fed up with sitting on our hands’” (p.320-321), emerged about a decade ago in Senegal as a citizen movement of peaceful resistance and symbolizes, the authors emphasize, the fact that African youth are increasingly fed up “with the political circus deployed in Africa since independence, as our parents would say, ‘since the White man left’...” (p.321). A full entry is dedicated to the Maggi bouillon cube, which has flooded African markets for about forty years and enjoys immense popularity (“It’s everywhere in Africa, from Dakar to Djibouti, and from Tangier to Cape Town. It’s in every pot, every stew. Little hands put it in every sauce, every local or adapted dish. An unchallenged hegemony! You’ll find it in diasporas too. The culinary strolls in Paris, in the [...] neighborhood” p.90). Critics blame it not only for impoverishing the aromatic diversity of local dishes but also for being harmful to health. And yet, “he poorest Africans, those who eat only once a day, a few spoonfuls of white beans and a ball of *foufou*, for example, are the most fervent users of the magic cube.” (p.92-93)
For *fonio*, “the new trendy cereal. [...] From the millet family, fonio is probably the oldest cereal cultivated in West Africa, and mainly in its sub-Saharan part, for millennia. [...] Easy to grow, water-efficient, fonio grows everywhere except on clay soils. Long neglected because it was considered the poor man’s crop, fonio is now a source of pride for the farmers who cultivate it and cherish it like the apple of their eye” (p.156-157), the authors immediately offer a detailed recipe, letting the reader know that “e can’t resist sharing this fonio with chicken recipe from Mali with you:
Ingredients: 1 chicken 3 large ripe red tomatoes 4 tbsp tomato paste 4 large onions 1 garlic clove 1/2 cup oil 2 Maggi cubes or salt 2 large carrots 1 turnip 1 large cabbage 2 large potatoes 1 celery stalk 1 packet pre-cooked fonio 4 okra (or okra powder) salt, pepper
Preparation: 1. Prepare the sauce: wash and cut the chicken. Peel the onions, garlic, and vegetables. 2. In a pot, fry the chicken pieces. 3. Dice the onions, tomatoes, carrots, and turnip very small and add them to the pot. 4. Add the tomato paste, salt, and pepper. 5. Simmer for 15 min, then add 2 L of water and the cooked chicken pieces. 6. Simmer for 30 min, then add the crushed garlic and celery, plus the cabbage cut into 4 and the potatoes cut in half. 7. Prepare the fonio: cover it with warm water, let it rest for 15 min, and cook it over low heat. 8. In a small pot, boil the okra and crush them. 9. Mix the crushed okra with the cooked fonio, then salt. Serve hot.” (p.158-159)
The comedy *Black Mic Mac*, released in French theaters in 1986 and addressing France’s increasingly restrictive immigration policy at the time, also gets an entry, as do *Tintin in the Congo*, the popular comic, and *Jip’s Café* (“[...] a little Africa in the heart of Paris, with passersby stopping to admire the ‘ambianceurs’ on the dance floor or attend the cultural events offered by the place” (p.194), an African establishment in Paris that Alain Mabanckou already immortalized in one of his novels.
The duo of authors also tackles thorny subjects like jihadism (p.119), the Rwandan genocide (p.272), the CFA franc (p.82), and dictatorship (p.110). While the two strike the right tone here, many entries leave a slightly bitter taste. Two examples: why doesn’t the text on Barack Obama mention the great disappointment of many people in Africa, who expected more from the African policy of the first U.S. president with African roots than just occasional warm words? Why do the comments on Winnie Mandela gloss over the fact that she was a highly controversial icon of the anti-apartheid movement due to her involvement in kidnappings, acts of torture, and murders of alleged apartheid collaborators? Instead, there’s a compassion that brings tears to the eyes: “She was often reduced to a secondary role, the wife of a great man” or “When victory came, she didn’t taste its fruits. Divorced, isolated. She would never be a ‘first lady’ in an evening gown, posing before a bed of chrysanthemums. They’d keep her far from the circles of power” (p.224-225). At this point, I would’ve liked the authors to take a slightly more critical stance...
That said, these “weaknesses” (if you can call them that) shouldn’t overshadow the book as a whole. It remains an informative, sometimes very entertaining, and often even original work in its own way.
Book information (the original French and the German translation):
Alain Mabanckou/Abdourahman Waberi. Dictionnaire enjoué des cultures africaines. Fayard, 2019. Alain Mabanckou/Abdourahman Waberi. Der Puls Afrikas. Eine Liebeserklärung von A bis Z. Reclam, 2022.
Hery
A whimsical taste of coming back!
I left my heart’s country eight days ago and returned to my adopted one—or was it the other way around? Scotland-Morvan, Morvan-Scotland, I’m not quite sure anymore.
After a quarter without dragging my slippers around here, even though I’d loudly declared I had no interest left in this site, here I am again!
My imagination never stays fallow for long. Just enough time for my inner land to rest. It gets overgrown with fresh nettles, the kind you can pick without getting stung. Then, it’s time to till the fragrant earth and let the story grow.
I hesitated over where to set this story. Maybe the Highlands, maybe the Hebrides, maybe the Orkney Islands, maybe the Shetland Islands. All of Scotland is myth—easy to embroider. But in the end, no. I’d almost be too afraid to bare my soul.
The story will take place at home. Simple, practical.
1)
This morning, I was up well before dawn, feeling a bit grumpy, but nothing a bowl of coffee won’t fix. I love my bowl, and no one dares take it. It’s porcelain, edged with intertwined blue flowers. On the bottom, it says "Revol." The factory has existed long before the Revolution. It was my great-grandmother’s bowl. She drank roasted barley from it during the war, then her Leroux chicory.
Last year, a little guy dropped it. My bowl broke into three pieces. A black anger vibrated deep inside me. The little boy was so upset, on the verge of tears. How could I scold him!
I picked up the three pieces and took Little Boy in my arms. His hair smelled of the light, sweet sweat of toddlers. A gentle hug that healed—his budding sorrow and my anger—everything vanished, and time carried on.
Today, my bowl is even prettier. Man fixed it using the traditional kintsugi technique, except he didn’t use gold powder or lacquer but superglue, and he delicately painted the cracks with woad blue. And my bowl is even more beautiful now.
I’m lingering, I can tell—it’s just that a story wraps itself in life, and life can’t be told in the snap of a finger. Life is long. Like in architecture, you start with a rough sketch, called a "sous-cul" (the initial pencil drawing), then you make a tracing, which is the work itself, the one you later carefully roll up in a wooden tube. Life is like that: you erase, you start over, you use the nub of the pencil until it’s tiny, but you keep going—dreaming, loving.
"Living is a full-time occupation, a unique adventure. Always a surprise and a wonder, which sometimes turns into astonishment. And, from time to time, happiness."*
Alright, enough digressing—this introduction is definitely too long. Tomorrow, I’ll get to the heart of the matter. (I hate that expression; it feels like I’m cutting into someone’s skin.)
*Jean d’Ormesson
2)
After a quarter without dragging my slippers around here, even though I’d loudly declared I had no interest left in this site, here I am again!
My imagination never stays fallow for long. Just enough time for my inner land to rest. It gets overgrown with fresh nettles, the kind you can pick without getting stung. Then, it’s time to till the fragrant earth and let the story grow.
I hesitated over where to set this story. Maybe the Highlands, maybe the Hebrides, maybe the Orkney Islands, maybe the Shetland Islands. All of Scotland is myth—easy to embroider. But in the end, no. I’d almost be too afraid to bare my soul.
The story will take place at home. Simple, practical.
1)
This morning, I was up well before dawn, feeling a bit grumpy, but nothing a bowl of coffee won’t fix. I love my bowl, and no one dares take it. It’s porcelain, edged with intertwined blue flowers. On the bottom, it says "Revol." The factory has existed long before the Revolution. It was my great-grandmother’s bowl. She drank roasted barley from it during the war, then her Leroux chicory.
Last year, a little guy dropped it. My bowl broke into three pieces. A black anger vibrated deep inside me. The little boy was so upset, on the verge of tears. How could I scold him!
I picked up the three pieces and took Little Boy in my arms. His hair smelled of the light, sweet sweat of toddlers. A gentle hug that healed—his budding sorrow and my anger—everything vanished, and time carried on.
Today, my bowl is even prettier. Man fixed it using the traditional kintsugi technique, except he didn’t use gold powder or lacquer but superglue, and he delicately painted the cracks with woad blue. And my bowl is even more beautiful now.
I’m lingering, I can tell—it’s just that a story wraps itself in life, and life can’t be told in the snap of a finger. Life is long. Like in architecture, you start with a rough sketch, called a "sous-cul" (the initial pencil drawing), then you make a tracing, which is the work itself, the one you later carefully roll up in a wooden tube. Life is like that: you erase, you start over, you use the nub of the pencil until it’s tiny, but you keep going—dreaming, loving.
"Living is a full-time occupation, a unique adventure. Always a surprise and a wonder, which sometimes turns into astonishment. And, from time to time, happiness."*
Alright, enough digressing—this introduction is definitely too long. Tomorrow, I’ll get to the heart of the matter. (I hate that expression; it feels like I’m cutting into someone’s skin.)
*Jean d’Ormesson
2)
Review of an expedition cruise to the Seychelles with Ponant from January 25 to February 2, 2026
Hi everyone,
It was totally by chance that I found this cruise while chatting with Alfred in November 2024. It wasn’t planned, but the price was attractive—one of those "great deals" from Ponant that I love and that don’t exist anymore. Since everyone’s wondering, here’s the answer without waiting for the end of the story: after my various loyalty discounts, I paid **3,250 € per person** for 8 nights/9 days on the expedition cruise *The Essentials of the Seychelles*.
Expedition cruises are by far our favorites. The outings are done by Zodiac with the ship’s naturalist guides, everything’s included, and there’s no need to add any excursions or prepare anything.
We’re liking long flights less and less, so to break up the trip, we decided to stop over in Doha for four days on the way there and one day on the way back.
I’m happy to share the good and not-so-good moments, the great surprises, and the disappointments of this trip with you.
It was totally by chance that I found this cruise while chatting with Alfred in November 2024. It wasn’t planned, but the price was attractive—one of those "great deals" from Ponant that I love and that don’t exist anymore. Since everyone’s wondering, here’s the answer without waiting for the end of the story: after my various loyalty discounts, I paid **3,250 € per person** for 8 nights/9 days on the expedition cruise *The Essentials of the Seychelles*.
Expedition cruises are by far our favorites. The outings are done by Zodiac with the ship’s naturalist guides, everything’s included, and there’s no need to add any excursions or prepare anything.
We’re liking long flights less and less, so to break up the trip, we decided to stop over in Doha for four days on the way there and one day on the way back.
I’m happy to share the good and not-so-good moments, the great surprises, and the disappointments of this trip with you.
Chatting by the water
For those who want to chat quietly by the riverbanks, this is the place!
"Tropical Odyssey" CFC Renaissance – November 1st to 22nd, 2025
We’ve just returned from a cruise that my wife and I will remember—unfortunately, not in a good way.
There’s so much to say that I’ll proceed chapter by chapter.
Pre-Cruise
On January 24th, 2025, I booked through a supposedly attentive cruise agent the repositioning cruise of the CFC Renaissance to the French West Indies, initially departing from Le Havre, then from Dunkirk, on November 1st, 2025.
The return flight was included in the price of this trip.
From January, right after booking, this adventure got off to a bad start.
Used to major cruise lines, I asked my agent to reserve a table for 4 at the "Vatel" restaurant for the second seating, and to link this reservation to the cabin of friends traveling with us. First brush-off: "Ask the maître d’ at the restaurant entrance on the first night."
"To govern is to foresee, and to foresee nothing is to head for disaster," as Émile de Girardin said.
Following this maxim, in February, I started looking for transportation to Le Havre, which was initially the departure port. Then, I asked the travel agent which airport the return flight would land at. I knew flights from Pointe-à-Pitre to Paris served both main Parisian airports. Here, I found myself like a ping-pong ball between the cruise agent and CFC: The cruise agent said, "Ask CFC," and CFC replied, "No, your agent is your intermediary—ask them." It went back and forth like that. Impossible to pre-book the flight that would take us back to our final destination. During the summer, we learned that the departure port was no longer Le Havre but Dunkirk. We canceled our transfers to Le Havre but, of course, lost the cost of the reservations. Meanwhile, we purchased our "Beverage" package—we chose the "Fraîcheur" option, which included all non-alcoholic cocktails, canned sodas, fruit juices, bottled water, and regular coffees. This detail is important for the rest of the story. Every month, I followed up to find out the return airport. Nothing until October 28th (3 days before departure), when CFC finally informed me it was Orly, along with the flight number and time. Of course, on top of booking at full price, I had to arrange my final transfer home. Since I had very little time before the return flight, I had to book an Uber in a rush for the Orly/CDG transfer. Right after, we were told that our first stop in Lisbon—the most anticipated for many cruisers—had been canceled due to a strike at the port of Lisbon and replaced with Vigo, Spain. A completely unremarkable stop—nothing outstanding. As you can see, the prelude was already problematic, yet we’re far from reaching the peak of our disappointments. .......... to be continued soon.
"To govern is to foresee, and to foresee nothing is to head for disaster," as Émile de Girardin said.
Following this maxim, in February, I started looking for transportation to Le Havre, which was initially the departure port. Then, I asked the travel agent which airport the return flight would land at. I knew flights from Pointe-à-Pitre to Paris served both main Parisian airports. Here, I found myself like a ping-pong ball between the cruise agent and CFC: The cruise agent said, "Ask CFC," and CFC replied, "No, your agent is your intermediary—ask them." It went back and forth like that. Impossible to pre-book the flight that would take us back to our final destination. During the summer, we learned that the departure port was no longer Le Havre but Dunkirk. We canceled our transfers to Le Havre but, of course, lost the cost of the reservations. Meanwhile, we purchased our "Beverage" package—we chose the "Fraîcheur" option, which included all non-alcoholic cocktails, canned sodas, fruit juices, bottled water, and regular coffees. This detail is important for the rest of the story. Every month, I followed up to find out the return airport. Nothing until October 28th (3 days before departure), when CFC finally informed me it was Orly, along with the flight number and time. Of course, on top of booking at full price, I had to arrange my final transfer home. Since I had very little time before the return flight, I had to book an Uber in a rush for the Orly/CDG transfer. Right after, we were told that our first stop in Lisbon—the most anticipated for many cruisers—had been canceled due to a strike at the port of Lisbon and replaced with Vigo, Spain. A completely unremarkable stop—nothing outstanding. As you can see, the prelude was already problematic, yet we’re far from reaching the peak of our disappointments. .......... to be continued soon.
Trip to Israel / Holy Land in 2022
For once, given the destination, the author can’t set aside their religious beliefs, which inevitably shape this kind of journey.
The Trip
Early in the morning at Orly Airport, in the departure lounge for Tel Aviv, a group of about forty young men arrives, all looking identical! The same neatly trimmed beards, the same identical haircuts, the same outfits with a touch of whimsy… The effect of seeing these forty “clones” is striking and raises questions! Why such perfect uniformity among this group of guys? Do they belong to the same family, sports club, cultural association, or religious group? A mystery! At the same time, the waiting area fills up with men who are more expected, given our destination: they wear large felt hats and dress in black suits with white shirts—Hassidim? The ones I’ve glimpsed fleetingly in Paris or New York, who have always been a mystery to me. More discreet-looking women accompany them.
I’m already in Israel without even setting foot there! Plus, I witness the preparations for an improvised show.
The “clones” start a flash mob at seven in the morning in a Paris airport departure lounge! Some pull out musical instruments, others begin singing and dancing. A music with strange, unfamiliar sounds enchants the waiting passengers.
The flight crew finally arrives, cutting through the flash mob, bringing us back to the reality of the moment: waiting to take off soon for this so troubling and mysterious Middle East. We go through passport control, presenting our faces to the scanners that operate the exit gate. The group of “identical” young men gets held up by the system: logically, a scanner let the first one through but blocked the second because of his perfect resemblance to the first. To the machine, the same person shouldn’t be able to cross the border twice? But eventually, the whole group makes it through the glass doors, leaving the Republic behind. My simplistic explanation is left looking ridiculous.
At every new destination, I ask myself countless questions, revealing a certain anxiety tied to the unknown: fear of attacks (one just happened at a bus station in Jerusalem), possible police pressure, unexpected events. Israel isn’t known for being a relaxing destination. In reality, if I did face a serious difficulty in this country, it wasn’t one I had anticipated—and it wasn’t particularly tied to Israel!
I take my seat by the window, which is already occupied by a little girl. Her father, a Hassidic man, politely asks if I’d be willing to give up my seat for his daughter. I tell him I’d be happy to make her happy. Seeing me masked, he asks if I’d like him and his daughter to wear masks too. In response, I take off my mask so as not to impose any constraints on them and wish them a good flight.
It was the first time I’d approached and spoken to a Hassidic man. He didn’t speak the way I might have expected after watching *Rabbi Jacob* with Louis de Funès; he spoke perfectly without an accent, just like you and me! Beware of stereotypes! Throughout the flight, I sneak glances at my strange neighbor: he prayed silently without stopping for a minute. His daughter, as good as gold, never interrupted him. He used several religious accessories during his three-hour continuous prayer: a kippa, a prayer shawl, and a rosary?… I left that plane deeply impressed, me, who has a very distant relationship with my Creator and only prays now and then.
The Trip
Early in the morning at Orly Airport, in the departure lounge for Tel Aviv, a group of about forty young men arrives, all looking identical! The same neatly trimmed beards, the same identical haircuts, the same outfits with a touch of whimsy… The effect of seeing these forty “clones” is striking and raises questions! Why such perfect uniformity among this group of guys? Do they belong to the same family, sports club, cultural association, or religious group? A mystery! At the same time, the waiting area fills up with men who are more expected, given our destination: they wear large felt hats and dress in black suits with white shirts—Hassidim? The ones I’ve glimpsed fleetingly in Paris or New York, who have always been a mystery to me. More discreet-looking women accompany them.
I’m already in Israel without even setting foot there! Plus, I witness the preparations for an improvised show.
The “clones” start a flash mob at seven in the morning in a Paris airport departure lounge! Some pull out musical instruments, others begin singing and dancing. A music with strange, unfamiliar sounds enchants the waiting passengers.
The flight crew finally arrives, cutting through the flash mob, bringing us back to the reality of the moment: waiting to take off soon for this so troubling and mysterious Middle East. We go through passport control, presenting our faces to the scanners that operate the exit gate. The group of “identical” young men gets held up by the system: logically, a scanner let the first one through but blocked the second because of his perfect resemblance to the first. To the machine, the same person shouldn’t be able to cross the border twice? But eventually, the whole group makes it through the glass doors, leaving the Republic behind. My simplistic explanation is left looking ridiculous.
At every new destination, I ask myself countless questions, revealing a certain anxiety tied to the unknown: fear of attacks (one just happened at a bus station in Jerusalem), possible police pressure, unexpected events. Israel isn’t known for being a relaxing destination. In reality, if I did face a serious difficulty in this country, it wasn’t one I had anticipated—and it wasn’t particularly tied to Israel!
I take my seat by the window, which is already occupied by a little girl. Her father, a Hassidic man, politely asks if I’d be willing to give up my seat for his daughter. I tell him I’d be happy to make her happy. Seeing me masked, he asks if I’d like him and his daughter to wear masks too. In response, I take off my mask so as not to impose any constraints on them and wish them a good flight.
It was the first time I’d approached and spoken to a Hassidic man. He didn’t speak the way I might have expected after watching *Rabbi Jacob* with Louis de Funès; he spoke perfectly without an accent, just like you and me! Beware of stereotypes! Throughout the flight, I sneak glances at my strange neighbor: he prayed silently without stopping for a minute. His daughter, as good as gold, never interrupted him. He used several religious accessories during his three-hour continuous prayer: a kippa, a prayer shawl, and a rosary?… I left that plane deeply impressed, me, who has a very distant relationship with my Creator and only prays now and then.
Review of a Norway cruise on the Emerald Princess in June 2025 (1)
Hello everyone,
I’ve wanted to take this Norway cruise for a very long time. The first time I booked it was in July 2020 with Azamara. Unfortunately, it was canceled, as everyone remembers. When I tried to book it again, the prices (already a bit high with Azamara) had simply doubled. So, since then, I’ve been keeping an eye out every year for any opportunities...
The last time we sailed with Princess was eleven years ago, and things didn’t go very well. I came back pretty unhappy with their service and quite disappointed. Despite the $600 they gave me as credit for a future cruise, I’d never set foot on one of their ships again.
But this time, the opportunity arose—a fantastic itinerary with lots of stops, a reasonable price for 16 nights (I’ll share the details in the conclusion), and a ship that’s not too big, so to speak, with only 3,000 passengers. I’m not expecting much from the cruise line this time and am boarding the ship with low expectations beyond the itinerary.
Princess has introduced an app to download before the cruise. It’s essential because online check-in is no longer available, and the agency doesn’t send a travel journal. Everything is done through the app. After completing the check-in on the app, we only know that we’ll need to pick up our key, the Medallion, at embarkation by following the blue line in the terminal and presenting our passport.
Up until our departure, the weather forecast for the coming week in Norway is disastrous—rain, rain, and more rain. It was pretty much the same two years ago before our Iceland cruise, and in the end, the weather turned out fine.
If you’re ready to embark on the Emerald Princess to discover this beautiful cruise and the stunning landscapes of Norway, let’s go!
Southampton - Sea day - Bergen - Olden - Åndalsnes - Sea day - Tromsø - Honningsvåg (North Cape) - Alta - Sea day - Molde - Trondheim - Two sea days - Edinburgh - Sea day - Southampton
I’ve wanted to take this Norway cruise for a very long time. The first time I booked it was in July 2020 with Azamara. Unfortunately, it was canceled, as everyone remembers. When I tried to book it again, the prices (already a bit high with Azamara) had simply doubled. So, since then, I’ve been keeping an eye out every year for any opportunities...
The last time we sailed with Princess was eleven years ago, and things didn’t go very well. I came back pretty unhappy with their service and quite disappointed. Despite the $600 they gave me as credit for a future cruise, I’d never set foot on one of their ships again.
But this time, the opportunity arose—a fantastic itinerary with lots of stops, a reasonable price for 16 nights (I’ll share the details in the conclusion), and a ship that’s not too big, so to speak, with only 3,000 passengers. I’m not expecting much from the cruise line this time and am boarding the ship with low expectations beyond the itinerary.
Princess has introduced an app to download before the cruise. It’s essential because online check-in is no longer available, and the agency doesn’t send a travel journal. Everything is done through the app. After completing the check-in on the app, we only know that we’ll need to pick up our key, the Medallion, at embarkation by following the blue line in the terminal and presenting our passport.
Up until our departure, the weather forecast for the coming week in Norway is disastrous—rain, rain, and more rain. It was pretty much the same two years ago before our Iceland cruise, and in the end, the weather turned out fine.
If you’re ready to embark on the Emerald Princess to discover this beautiful cruise and the stunning landscapes of Norway, let’s go!
Southampton - Sea day - Bergen - Olden - Åndalsnes - Sea day - Tromsø - Honningsvåg (North Cape) - Alta - Sea day - Molde - Trondheim - Two sea days - Edinburgh - Sea day - Southampton
Croatia, Montenegro – two victims of overtourism?
Mid-June, two Auvergnats on the starting blocks—off we go to the former Yugoslavia!
We’d already explored some nooks and crannies of northern Croatia back in 2019, so we’re keeping the momentum going by planning a trip to the south of the country and then Montenegro.
On the way back, we’ll drift into Bosnia-Herzegovina just to mix things up a bit!
We’re a little unsure about what to expect in terms of tourist crowds.
Dubrovnik has a reputation for being the hardest-hit city by overtourism, and Kotor and the whole Dalmatian coast aren’t exactly empty...
Luckily, most European countries haven’t started school holidays yet, and some measures seem to have been put in place to limit the flow (like restrictions on the number of cruise ships allowed to dock at the same time).
Maybe we’ll manage to escape the promised hell?
For now, we’re slamming the doors of the Scirocco and heading off to our first stop: northern Italy!
On the way back, we’ll drift into Bosnia-Herzegovina just to mix things up a bit!
We’re a little unsure about what to expect in terms of tourist crowds.
Dubrovnik has a reputation for being the hardest-hit city by overtourism, and Kotor and the whole Dalmatian coast aren’t exactly empty...
Luckily, most European countries haven’t started school holidays yet, and some measures seem to have been put in place to limit the flow (like restrictions on the number of cruise ships allowed to dock at the same time).
Maybe we’ll manage to escape the promised hell?
For now, we’re slamming the doors of the Scirocco and heading off to our first stop: northern Italy!
