Results for "Pays-Bas"

Salut à tous ! Bon d'abord mille excuses si je répète des choses déjà demandées et résolues( j'ai vu qu'il y en avait ici qui s'énervait vite...) mais je me retrouve coincée. j'ai un billet Air France pour éponger mes derniers miles . j'arrive à BMK le 28/11 et j'en repartirai le 16/01, entre temps plein de projets, d'articles à faire et de gens à rencontrer, on me dit que je ne peux avoir qu'un visa de 1 mois. Quoi faire, l'ambassade du Mali ne répond pas, faut il aller faire un tour dans un pays voisin et qq chose dans le genre....Merci à tous les voyageurs de ce site, au fait j'irais bien dire un boujour au vaillant qui construit sa pirogue à Sévaré en passant...

bonjour, J'adore le vélo et l'europe mais je n'ai pas encore eu la chance de la parcourir à vélo....Dans le cadre de mon voyage en Espagne cette été, mon amie(caterin) et moi on avait l'intension de louer des vélos et découvrir l'espagne un peu plus de cette facon. Quels villes/campagnes sont les meilleurs pour le cyclisme? Y a t-il des réseaux cyclables? Si oui sont-ils biens? ou ca ne vaut pas la peine?.....Connaissez vous des magasins de location de vélo(barcelone-madrid...préférablement), dispendieu ou pas? Bref toute les infos ou détails serons appréciés! merci;-) Wily

J'ai eu la chance d'aller en Bretagne et de visiter Saint-Goustan à AURAY .. merveilleux petit port de pêche, extrêmentent charmant ... je me demandais s'il y avais beaucoup de ces petits coins cachés en France ... parce que j'aimerai bien y aller ... S.V.P. Faites moi des suggestions ... comme quel village ou quel endroit en particulier ... merci à tous ...

Je recherche des informations sur le sud de la Tunisie pour envisager un éventuel séjour. Comme je connais le sud marocain, je crains d'être un peu déçu en comparaison. Qu'en pensez-vous ?

Bonjour à tous, je souhaite aller au Pakistan depuis Delhi en passant par Armritsar. Selon "le climat", j'ai bien envie de rentrer par chez nous en passant par la route.

Est il possible de traverser le Pakistan, ou l'Afghanistan pour rejoindre l'Iran ?

Je cherche, je cherche, mais ne trouve pas trop d'infos (sauf toujours les memes infos comme quoi le Pakistan et tous les pays ayant la terminaison an sont dangereux😉...

Qu'en pensez vous ???

Bonjour

Nous sommes deux québécoises retraitées qui envisageons passer deux semaines en France au printemps.Avril ou mai. Nous avons pensé passer quelques jours à Paris et une semaine dans le sud de la France. Nous n'aurons pas d'auto et nous nous déplacerons en train. Nous préférons les paysages pittoresques (pas toujours les mêmes) et rencontrer des personnes aux musées et cathédrales. Que nous suggérez-vous et croyez- vous qu'il sera possible de visiter si nous n'avons pas d'auto. Nous aimerions être accueillies par des retraités ou non qui envisagent venir au Québec et qui aimeraient être accueillis aussi.

Voisine😊

Bonjour,

je cherche tout information pertinante sur le chemin de compostelle... (les prix, la durée, l'hébergement) tout tout tout. Je dois dire que je quitterais le Québec en Mai 2004 est ce un bon mois pour de la belle température?? Par quel ville est-il préférable de commencé?? J'aimerais beaucoup en savoir d'avantage...je me suis renseigné pour m'acheter un bouquin sur le sujet mais les prix sont beaucoup trop élevés alors je vais commencé par chercher de l'information par internet je penserai pour le livre plus tard....alors j'attend de vos nouvelles avec impatience....

merci 🙂

ariane

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I inherited my love of travel from my parents and some of my grandparents. A strong passion, but one that was unfortunately limited by our family’s modest resources. Back then, living in northern Alsace, a simple trip to the southern part of the region—with the Wine Route as our destination—felt like an extraordinary journey to a land of plenty for the little boy I was in the late 60s and early 70s. Everything seemed so huge when you were still just a kid. Back then, I was overwhelmed by countless sensations—I was already highly sensitive, with a keen mind and a nose and taste buds that were developing like a pro’s. Which, as I’d later realize, wasn’t always an advantage.



Those magical days always began with a gentle late-spring or midsummer morning. The interior of the white Peugeot 404, license plate 210 LZ 67, had already soaked up the sun before the engine purred to life, and the cabin gave off a scent I could still recognize today—a fragrance I found so pleasant. Back then, I had no idea it was just the smell of warm plastic from the car’s interior. Yes, the scents of the 404 on sunny days became my madeleine de Proust... What’s more, the whole family was unusually cheerful because those moments of relaxation and leisure were rare. Everyone worked, and no one had an easy job or was well paid. Without the *Trente Glorieuses*, these experiences might never have happened.



Once we crossed the canton’s borders, I felt like I was light-years away from my everyday surroundings, and every kilometer plunged me deeper into *terra incognita*. It was thrilling. Far from my so-called "medium-sized" town, wheat fields, cornfields, and cabbage patches stretched out, punctuated by tall poles connected by long wires and topped with vegetation—like giant clotheslines without laundry, where magical beanstalks might grow to touch the sky. Back then, I was still far from tasting their product, which was simply beer. At the time, there was still a significant local hop production. Fun fact: it wasn’t until 2002 that Anglo-Saxon scientists proved hops and cannabis belong to the same biological family.

After the fields, the landscape took another step up as it rolled past the little boy’s eyes, often glued to the windows. First came modest hills, then a succession of rolling slopes that soon formed an unbroken chain. Their 700 meters in altitude felt like Himalayan peaks to me—impressive, inert giants, a whole new world. Gazing at them, an intense emotion welled up somewhere between my stomach and lungs, nearly taking my breath away. What mysteries, what treasures did these heights hold? And then there were the cherries on top—the crowning touch that made the scene even more magical: proud, majestic castles perched on the summits like impassive sentinels. Monuments from the past, yet firmly rooted in the present on their rocky spurs. The little boy’s eyes sparkled—he’d been given a castle for Christmas, complete with battlements, towers, a drawbridge, and fully armed knights. He’d watched and lived *Ivanhoe* on the only French TV channel that existed back then.

Only once did my paternal grandfather join us on one of these trips. A tall, intelligent man with a face that could shift from stern to mischievous, clearly full of humor and charisma. Sadly, his relationship with alcohol had taken a toll on his life and, by extension, those of his loved ones. He had a strong personality—if his boss crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch him, which meant he went through a lot of different jobs. Back then, you could quit one job and easily find another. It was quite something to see him in his final stages, hallucinating pink elephants and even drinking perfume when he had nothing else left. The last time I saw him, he’d slipped away from the doctors and nurses while hospitalized in pretty bad shape—at least, I assume his liver was the issue. We were sitting down for a family lunch when the door burst open, and there he stood in his pajamas, eyes twinkling with mischief, clearly pleased with the dramatic entrance. That theatrical moment didn’t spare us from burying him a few months later at the age of 71. One day, my mother told me the family doctor had quietly remarked that it was a shame—with his robust constitution, he could’ve lived to be a hundred. Yes, the family doctor—this was the man who’d come treat you any day, at almost any hour, just for a phone call. It really existed, it’s not a myth!

That day, his wife—my paternal grandmother—was also along for the ride. Everyone agreed that Jeannette was a good woman. She worked as a waitress at *Le Tigre*, the biggest brasserie in town, right in the center. Most customers preferred to be served by her, including local dignitaries and even the mayor. As a kid, I didn’t find her very fun, open, or warm—she seemed a bit stern. Back then, women in their fifties already had the face and build of grandmothers. Same went for men, don’t get me wrong. I had no idea about the struggles she faced because of her husband. I didn’t know that 30 years earlier, she’d had to flee Alsace while pregnant, under threat from Nazi fighter-bombers. I didn’t know she’d had several miscarriages, and that my father—her only surviving child, born prematurely in March 1940 at the other end of France—weighed less than a kilo at birth and was so tiny he could fit in a shoebox. Hard to imagine he’d grow into a strapping man nearly 1.80 meters tall, tipping the scales at 100 kilos. When you come back from summer camp in early August and ask why she didn’t pick you up with your parents, and they gently tell you she’s "in heaven," you don’t realize she passed away at 54 after suffering greatly from stomach cancer that had spread.

Back to that family outing, that enchanted parenthesis. I even remembered where we’d had lunch when I passed through Dambach-la-Ville decades later. One of those charming, flower-filled towns Alsace produces in abundance—and preserves so well. This one sits high on a hill, and I was a bit stunned on the parking lot because the view stretched far, revealing the Alsace plain below—its fields, villages, hills, and forests. The world seemed so vast and enticing that day, even though I was only glimpsing a tiny fraction of it.



The region was already very touristy, but I wouldn’t notice the downsides until much later. That Sunday noon, I discovered a large restaurant filled with diners. I can still see the enormous piece of meat they served me, decorated with a little wooden skewer topped with a flag. I kept that one for a long time. Those were the golden days of rich, flowing, thick sauces—so flavorful—and the era of the world’s best fries, made on the spot with the best potatoes. To top it off, I was *exceptionally* allowed a small bottle of apple juice, Orangina, or—even better if possible—Sinalco. Yes, Sinalco—like Orangina, but better. A brand that must’ve disappeared in the 70s, but why, and what a shame! Since then, Orangina’s little bubbles have taken the brand to the other side of the planet—it’s now Japanese.

Year after year, I’d eagerly await that ecstatic moment when the most beautiful castle in Alsace, the Haut-Koenigsbourg, appeared in my field of vision. The perfect model, the archetype that blended into the landscape at the height of a child’s dreams. The trip home always felt like a reality check—less jarring than an alarm clock, but more diffuse and melancholic. From then on, there was only one wish: *When do we leave again?*

Hello 🙂

I should be serving a warming drink to the participants in the discussion about gardens and parks that provide us with beautiful photos, I could mention the delicious buttery scent wafting from bakeries in the thread about returning to France, but my heart, its powerful pulse that nourishes my entire being, is elsewhere.

Dasht-e Lut, Yazd, Esfahan, Bam, Kerman, Qeshm, Hormuz—a melody, a prayer at the heart of desire.

A dream, an unattainable fantasy? No. Not anymore. A very serious Italian travel agency is organizing this trip for 6 people this winter. I’m signed up, I’m going, I’m living. Maybe.

"But you’re completely crazy!!!!"

I know... I know that every civilization, every society has a vital need to create scapegoats to define and justify itself, pathetically. And Iran is one of them, top of the list. I laugh or sigh, and it doesn’t bother me.

But that unchanging red, deep red and garnet, so beautiful in itself, in all the Western chancelleries repeats, whispers, shouts: don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, you’re putting yourself in danger and we can’t do anything for you. You’ll be turned into mere bargaining chips, into arguments for endless negotiations. Fear must be instilled, its power absolutely preserved, no concessions made to the enemy. The information (how many French hostages, real or fake, compared to the number of travelers?) is always lacking.

Traveling becomes a merciless confrontation between desire, the vital pulse, and anxiety, its ghosts.

Catherine

Hey there, VF crew!

After wrapping up our travel journal on Java (link below), we’re now diving into our recent adventure in Puglia! Happy reading... Off we go on an adventure in Java (and a bit of Bali) | Travel journal > Indonesia | Voyage Forum

Day 1 - October 19

When you tell your friends and family you’re itching to escape to the other side of the planet to mingle with the Mongols, you can usually expect a barrage of questionable jokes and terrible puns. For this new adventure, it’s a different destination but the same old story—this time, we’re visiting the "pouilleux" (the "scruffy" ones). We’re taking off straight for Puglia! If you need a cheat sheet to remember where this oddly named place is on a world map, just think of it this way: Puglia is the maiden name on the ID card of the heel of the Italian boot! Personally, I prefer to remember it as the land of creamy burrata, the smell of focaccia fresh from the oven, orecchiette shaped by mamas, golden olive oil that shines like the sun (which beams down here 300 days a year), amaretto that makes you happy, and those famous trulli—those little hobbit-like dry-stone houses straight out of a movie set...

But I’ll stop spoiling the rest of our trip and focus on a factual rundown of this first Puglian day. So, are you joining us on this new adventure beyond our Gallic borders? Either way, Sasha (my youngest) and Luna (Flo’s daughter) didn’t need much convincing to stick with us and keep up the pace!

Our plane drops our little crew in Bari, the site of a famously tragic battle lost in 1991. But revenge is sweet! After renting a motorized carriage, we escape the landing zone and head to our military base of operations: Ostuni, a strategic little town where we’ll set up camp for the next four days. Why Ostuni? First, for its central location, which lets us explore a region packed with must-see gems. Second, for its vibe and beauty, which have earned it quite the reputation. Perched high on a hill, the *città bianca* (the "White City") lives up to its nickname. It literally dazzles visitors. The reason? The whitewashed facades of its houses, a testament to the region’s rich architectural heritage.





We arrived late last night, so only the two bravest soldiers volunteered to scout ahead at dawn, while the younger recruits stayed behind—for now. But not for long! After the first wave of streets and the next round of exploration, headquarters made the inevitable call to retreat. Reinforcements were needed! A few strategic errands, a breakfast ration, and our battalion marched in tight formation, flag held high, to conquer Ostuni the White! *Charge!* In my squadron leader’s memoirs, I’ll write that I didn’t expect Ostuni to put up such a fight. What I thought would take two hours to conquer turned into a humbling experience—we could only bow in respect to its beauty, its relentless charm. The alleys are whiter, more labyrinthine, narrower, and more photogenic than the last. *Veni, vidi, vici*—but what an entrance, my troops!

Here’s the theme for the lovely month of May—no worries, it won’t be lilies of the valley! 😄

This month’s theme is: “Reflection(s)” This leaves a pretty wide scope: reflections in water, of course, but also in windows, on buildings... I’ll leave it to your imagination, but the reflection should be clearly visible.

If this theme has been used before, it doesn’t matter. It’s getting tricky to find new themes that can attract as many participants as possible.

I’m currently in northern Finland and don’t have access to my hard drives, so I’ll add a few photos when I return to France. Here’s just one I took with my smartphone yesterday late afternoon:



Practical details:

Participation: Each VF member can submit up to 3 photos, until Monday, May 26 at 11:59 PM Paris time. Each photo must 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 consider the best, based on their own criteria and the theme.

Voting will take place from Tuesday, May 27 to Saturday, May 31 at 11:59 PM Paris 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 author of the photo with the most points.

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

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

This thread is exclusively for photos submitted to the contest. Any discussions or comments should be posted in the following thread: https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=10707526;a=10707526

Hi there, could you please share your feedback on renting a 4x4 for a 21-day self-drive trip in Uganda? Thanks

Hello fellow cycle-tourers! First post on this site for our first big family cycling adventure with our two teens (12 and 16 years old) over 2 months. We're preparing to leave in June/July from Erdeven by bike, then take the train from Auray to Paris, followed by a FlixBus from Paris to Copenhagen with our 4 bikes. After that, we're looking to refine our route: Should we go to Sweden via Helsingborg and then head up to Stockholm along the west or east coast? Maybe passing through the Gotland islands, then via the Åland Islands, why not Turku? Then off to Estonia to Tallinn, ride a bit along the coast, and return by bus if we can find one that takes 4 bikes. :))

Could you share any tips on routes in Sweden: west coast or east coast to prioritize in the south? We’ve heard it’s a shame not to go up to Norway, but we’re worried about the elevation and don’t see how to make a loop work in our 2 months / 1500 km. Any ideas? And the southern Finnish coast: should we go all the way to Helsinki or not? Maybe at the expense of Estonia?

In short, we know choosing means giving something up, but if we can do it with advice from fellow cyclists, that would be amazing! Thanks in advance for your tips! Anne-Sophie and the whole Breton family: David, Axel, and Maude

Here’s a little story about my first trip to Japan with my partner. We went for our first visit from October 29 to November 13, 2024.

I had planned this entire trip back in November 2020, but given the health situation at the time, I had to cancel...

Here’s the classic route we took:

We booked everything ourselves and got a regional pass for the area from Kyoto to Hiroshima. The hotels were reserved 3 months in advance on Book... and Agod... (1030 € for 2 people for 13 nights = 80 €/night). For the flight, we chose a Qatar Airways flight with a layover to break up the long journey (950 € per person). We also got a pass on the same site (Japan-Experience) to take the train connecting Narita Airport to Shibuya Station (the N'EX Narita Express). Since the airport is 75 km from central Tokyo, we opted for this mode of transport, even though there are cheaper alternatives. After reading various posts on VoyageForum, I understood how important it was to have a Welcome Suica card to pay for public transport (subway, tram, bus, boat throughout the country), and we were able to buy one at Narita Airport. It turned out to be super useful! After a long but smooth journey, we found ourselves at Narita Airport in the evening. Even though we had a pass for the Narita Express, we had to go to a counter to make a reservation for the train (mandatory). Then, once we arrived at Shibuya Station, we took the subway for 2 stops and finally reached our hotel, exhausted (Hotel Asia Center of Japan – 270 € for 3 nights with breakfast included).

CORSICA From September 24, 2024 to October 9, 2024 Thank you, thank you, thank you for reactivating my favorite forum, which has given me so many ideas for my trips since... 2008—it’s been ages, as they say! So, to celebrate its return, I’m sharing this little travel journal from our latest road trip, not too long ago, since it was Corsica in the autumn. Autumn is the ideal season to visit Corsica: fewer tourists, perfect temperatures around 25°C, and, most importantly, less stress on the roads. You can feel it everywhere. Servers and shopkeepers are more relaxed and have time to chat (yes, Corsicans do talk... but not all of them!)

09/24 Arrival in Erbalunga Whether you're from northern France or Belgium, like us, the easiest way to reach the Isle of Beauty is by flying from Lille-Lesquin Airport. Volotea offers two destinations: Bastia and Ajaccio. Be careful, though—while the ticket prices are attractive, the airline makes up for it with baggage fees. A 25kg suitcase for 212 €—that really drives up the cost of transportation! For us, it’ll be Bastia. After this short flight and an arrival that lets you clearly see the east coast of Cap Corse, we’re welcomed by our friend Jean-Claude, who’s kindly hosting us for a few days. We met this Corsican and his wife during our four-year stay in French Guiana, and I have to say, he completely changed my opinion of Corsicans and even made me want to visit his island. The house, clinging to the rock above the sea, is stunning and offers a breathtaking view of the island of Elba. I’d always heard of Elba but must admit I wouldn’t have known where to place it before. We’ll stay here for five nights, long enough to explore the north of the island.



Since we’ve just arrived, Jean-Claude wants to show us his village, ERLALUNGA, a quiet little port, and the small village of CASTELLO above it, where he spent a lot of time in his childhood...

Monday, August 21, 2023 - Rochefort - Marans

No journal for the first two days. Day 1 - CARCANS-ROYAN Day 2 - ROYAN - ROCHEFORT Tonight I'm in MARANS in the "dry marsh" according to the campsite manager—it’s the first time I’ve heard of a "dry marsh"?!

Photos from the first two days

My gear



The Landes region—nothing extraordinary, but the calm and serenity are nice.



Le Verdon



The wild coast



This marsh isn’t dry, though.

Today is the third day of my trip, and I’m writing to you from a campsite in Marans. I’ve set out to bike from Carcans Maubuisson back to Plaisir. Why Carcans? Because we spent a week there as a family—a great week that lets everyone reconnect for a long stretch. Also, on Saturday, we all headed home—some by car, and me by bike. This journey is about 850 km via bike paths and small cycling roads. It’s not a sporting feat, just a nice long ride for fun. As the old Chinese sage says, "The destination doesn’t matter—it’s the journey that counts." But he also told me, "Traveling is great, but what’s the point if you don’t share it?" You see, this old sage has told me a lot of things—he often keeps me company when I’m biking. Of course, he doesn’t pedal, but we travel in harmony. Sure, he can be a bit annoying sometimes, but we still get along. All this to say I’ve created a group to share my story. I’d be happy to share this experience with you—it’s an adventure for me. On Saturday, I wasn’t sure I’d even leave because I’d been dealing with sciatica for days. Luckily, Juliette, a friend of the old Chinese sage, recommended a lifesaving remedy: Alternately stretching your legs with an elastic band under your foot. Obviously, a jam jar rubber band won’t cut it.

From Marans - The mosquitoes are attacking; time to head back to shelter.

The first two legs took me to Royan and then Rochefort. The Sèvre Niortaise flows nearby, and I followed a canal from La Rochelle. You could say the area is as dry as the marsh, judging by the state of the crops.



As I mentioned, it’s the third day, and if Jesus rose again on this day, for me it was more like the crucifixion. The scorching heat—only bearable when you’re moving—combined with rough trail conditions, and the old Chinese sage says, "Terrible roads, slow speed, and watch your limbs." I set out to do 60 km but ended up doing 80, and the last 20 were tough. I kept checking the GPS to see how much farther until the campsite. Today: Rochefort to Marans, sticking to the coast until La Rochelle, then no notable towns after that—just a constant canal. But since the sky isn’t too low, it hasn’t gotten lost. I’ve still got plenty of anecdotes to share, but it’s pitch black out, and the mosquitoes are still around. This morning, I counted ten in my tent, all full of my blood. Yesterday, at the end of the leg to Rochefort, I was really looking forward to crossing the Charente using the transporter bridge, but a sneaky GPS conspiracy led me far from it. I ended up crossing the Charente on a completely ordinary bridge, watching the transporter bridge in the distance with disappointment.

End of the first episode. Until tomorrow, if you’d like!

Here are the dates for some of the most beautiful Christmas markets in Europe in 2024 (not an exhaustive list): 🎄🎁❄️

🇩🇪 Berlin (Gendarmenmarkt), Germany - 25 November to 31 December 🇸🇰 Bratislava, Slovakia - 21 November to 6 January 🇧🇪 Bruges, Belgium - 22 November to 5 January 🇧🇪 Brussels, Belgium - 29 November to 5 January 🇭🇺 Budapest, Hungary - 15 November to 1 January 🇩🇪 Cologne, Germany - 18 November to 23 December 🇫🇷 Colmar, France - 26 November to 29 December 🇩🇰 Copenhagen (Tivoli Gardens), Denmark - 16 November to 2 January 🇵🇱 Krakow, Poland - 29 November to 26 December 🇷🇴 Craiova, Romania - 15 November to 5 January 🇩🇪 Dresden (Striezelmarkt), Germany - 27 November to 24 December 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 Edinburgh, Scotland - 15 November to 4 January 🇸🇪 Gothenburg (Liseberg), Sweden - 16 November to 30 December 🇩🇪 Hamburg, Germany - 13 November to 29 December 🇫🇮 Helsinki, Finland - 1 December to 22 December 🇫🇷 Le Barcarès, France - 16 November to 5 January 🇧🇪 Liège, Belgium - 29 November to 30 December 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 London (Hyde Park), England - 21 November to 5 January 🇱🇺 Luxembourg City, Luxembourg - 23 November to 24 December 🇵🇹 Madeira, Portugal - 1 December to 5 January 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 Manchester, England - 8 November to 22 December 🇫🇷 Metz, France - 24 November to 30 December 🇫🇷 Montbéliard, France - 23 November to 24 December 🇫🇷 Mulhouse, France - 22 November to 23 December 🇩🇪 Munich, Germany - 25 November to 24 December 🇩🇪 Nuremberg, Germany - 29 November to 24 December 🇵🇱 Poznan, Poland - 19 November to 23 December 🇨🇿 Prague, Czech Republic - 30 November to 6 January 🇱🇻 Riga, Latvia - 29 November to 2 January 🇫🇮 Rovaniemi, Finland - 30 November to 22 December 🇸🇪 Stockholm (Skansen), Sweden - 30 November to 23 December 🇫🇷 Strasbourg, France - 27 November to 27 December 🇪🇪 Tallinn, Estonia - 22 November to 27 December 🇳🇱 Valkenburg, Netherlands - 16 November to 29 December 🇵🇱 Warsaw, Poland - 29 November to 6 January 🇦🇹 Vienna, Austria - 13 November to 23 December 🇵🇱 Wroclaw, Poland - 29 November to 7 January 🇨🇭 Zurich, Switzerland - 23 November to 24 December

Feel free to suggest other beautiful Christmas markets in Europe with their 2024 dates!

A turbulent period came to an end around 2022.

Many of us have returned to big trips after making only very small ones—or none at all. For a little anecdote, my dentist told me that due to the lack of travel, a lot of clients treated themselves to implants they would’ve otherwise skipped. The joy of traveling again probably gave some vacationers smiles they hadn’t dared to show before!

Here, you can share what’s on your mind: Have these new, real trips disappointed you, rejuvenated you, or just relieved a long frustration?

For my part, not being so young anymore, there was definitely relief but no explosion of joy. I just had the feeling of picking up the thread of life after a foggy pause, with the bitter taste that 2 or 3 years of my life had been partly stolen from me.